#but the result is so cool. i keep looking at it and going Hell Yeah | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

i9messi · 4 months ago

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Hard to get — Oscar Piastri

You're a rookie, always determined to prove yourself on track, but Oscar is constantly underestimating you. He is annoying and has ben like this since you were fifteen.

word count — 2,6k

note: rivals to lovers. oscar is childish and annoying. warnings: misogynist comments made by a journalist. oh, and a car accident. i think i don't forget anything. feedback and reblogs are well appreciated.

MASTERLIST

“Why do you keep looking at him?”

Charles was standing beside you, your gaze didn't move away for a second from the certain driver who was a few meters away. Nothing but hatred in your eyes.

Charles loved to laugh at the fact you didn’t get along with Oscar. He thought it was a childish and stupid fight, where neither of you accepted you were being silly. The Ferrari driver was the one who tried to keep things cool, after all, Oscar was his adopted son and you were like his younger sister.

On the other hand, Lando just laughed and encouraged you to keep fighting.

“He’s looking at me!”

“And you’re looking at him, no need to complain.”

“I hate that stupid face and his stupid hair….”

Charles smiled even more.

“And his stupid voice… Oh, what more?” he added, jokingly.

“Charles, don't try to be on his side.”

“I'm not! This is a stupid fight and you should act like adults, not like kids.”

“Nevermind. Good luck in the race.”

You walked away and put on your helmet. The race was about to start. Starting behind Lando and alongside Carlos, you thought you were doing well in your first season as a rookie. But, bad things were, Oscar was behind you and you knew that could only mean something terrible.

Both were competitive since you had met, always fought for the lead and you didn't think this time would be different. Your relationship was reaching a point where you felt that at any moment everything would blow up.

And Oscar was the one to blame.

He must have noticed somehow that you were thinking of him, because he came to stand closer to you. To annoy you.

“Oh great, it’s you again.”

“I just wanted to wish you good luck.”

Your gaze kept on him, not believing for anything in the world that your greatest rival since you were fifteen really wished you good luck.

But Oscar didn't finish talking, because he smiled machiavelliously.

“...You’re obviously going to end up behind me. It must be a nice view from behind.”

“Me behind you? That’s funny. Last time I checked, you were two positions behind me.”

Oscar was mad, you could notice that for the way he was looking at you, with his teeth biting his lips. For a calm boy, he always showed all his emotions when he had a conversation with you.

“We’ll see how this race ends and if you really deserve your seat.”

“Go to hell, Oscar.”

Oscar smiled and touched your shoulder.

“See you later, princess.”

The race started moments later. Despite the pressure you had to give a good result for your team, you also enjoyed being able to drive the car at high speed. Nothing was like formula one, it was unique. You kept up a good pace and thought that if you fought hard enough, you could get to the podium. Oscar was behind you, but as Lewis was struggling for position and to overtake the aussie, he was busy with more important matters than bothering you. So for the moment, you were fine.

However, on lap nineteen, everything ended for you. You hit the wall on a curve.

“Damn! I’m sorry, guys.”

You were angry with yourself, with Oscar and everyone. You knew it was your fault, because that curve had been difficult for you in each lap and even though you practiced it dozens of times, a mistake had caused the car to move and you could not stop it before the impact.

“Are you all right?” they asked on the radio.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Mad as hell, but fine.”

You got out of the car and the medical staff took care of you to check that your injuries were minor. Once they finished, you locked yourself in your room to try to calm down. You were angry, sad that you failed the team and your ego was hurt.

You heard someone knocking the door, you opened to see the face of your PR manager.

“I know you don't want to talk with anyone, but you have some interviews to do.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

Much more calm than moments ago, you went to the area where a lot of journalists were waiting to ask what had happened in the race. Oscar was there and you saw his evil smile. He was probably happy about your crash, and you hated him for it.

“Hi.” you said to the first person you saw, a man in his forties.

“So how do you feel about your own mistake in the race?”

Some journalists were like sharks, waiting for a drop of blood to attack. A sign of weakness.

“It wasn’t the result we wanted and... I talked with the team and they know how sorry I am. I hope the next race result will be different.”

However, the man insisted.

“We can see that women don’t know how to drive properly after all.”

“Excuse me?”

He didn’t give you time to fight back and tell what you really thought, just kept talking as if the only thing that mattered was his own voice.

“Do you think your team will replace you? You’re not having the result they expected you to have in this season, there are rumors that Perez is gonna take your seat. I doubt you’ll keep the car for the rest of the season.”

You swallowed, stopped looking at the journalist and just turned your head to the side. His words had been like daggers in an unhealed wound.

“I have nothing to say. That's my team's decision.”

You passed to the next person, this time it was a woman who was patient and kind with you. Yet the words of the man kept on repeating in your head. Keeping the seat all season was a hard job, you knew how fast a team could get tired of a driver and how the dream could end in a matter of hours. You wanted to stay there, you wanted to prove what you were capable of.

The interviews ended and you kept your head low, staring at the ground. You walked away and did the worst thing you could have done at that time, you opened twitter. There were a lot of aggressive tweets against you, saying that you were a disappointment to women who wanted to earn a place in sports. But you didn’t want to be anyone’s model or inspiration, you just wanted to be yourself, doing a sport you loved since you were a kid. Why was it so difficult?

Locked in your room, you heard a knock on the door. Someone calling your name.

“It’s Oscar, please open.”

Oscar? What the hell was he doing there? Surely your nemesis wanted to make you feel even worse than you already were. If the press were like sharks, Oscar was a crow.

“Go away.”

"I want to talk with you."

He did not stop knocking the door. Exhausted, you opened the door and saw him. Still wearing his race clothes, his hair was messy and he looked at you as if he had seen you for the first time in those years that you knew each other.

Did he look at you with concern?

“Your tears kill me, I don’t like to see you cry.”

There was still a trace of tears in your face and the only person you didn't want to see them, actually saw them.

“You are an amazing driver and you deserve the seat more than anyone else in the world. No one has the right to make a mean comment about you.”

You wanted to fight, you wanted to get angry with someone. That someone was standing there in front of you.

“So, you think you're the only one who has the right to underestimate me?”

“That's not…”

“Since we met you’ve made my life miserable. You say bullshit about me. What the press and people said about me is more of the same. You’re no different from them.”

“I’m sorry, I really am.”

He avoided your eyes, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor.

“Just go, Oscar. I don’t need your pity.”

For the first time, he didn’t insist. He just left. Later that day you started thinking about what it meant for Oscar to come to talk with you.

Lando texted you, saying that the guys were going to the club. Just a few minutes later, Charles sent you almost an identical message, telling you that it wouldn’t be the same without your presence. As much as you were not in the mood, you accepted the invitation. Tomorrow you had a meeting with the team and you knew that that same night you would not be able to sleep. At least you’d have a few drinks and then go back to your room.

Charles came to pick you up at your hotel and together you went to the club, there you met a lot of familiar faces and among them, it was Oscar. None of you said a thing, but there was a strange vibe. The other drivers ignored the situation, and if they felt the tension, they acted as if they had not.

“Let’s dance.” Lando grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You looked at Charles for help but he just smiled at you.

“Go!”

Lando danced with you, but you felt a glance on you. It was Oscar, who drank a glass of something and kept his eyes on you.

“I don’t know what happened between you two but you should talk.” Your friend said in your ear, as you kept your gaze on Oscar.

“I don’t want to talk to him, he’s despicable.”

“But he’s constantly in your head.”

“That’s not true,” you tried to argue, but you knew that was true. Oscar was always in your thoughts, living rent free in your mind. “Fine, I’ll go talk to him.”

“If you fight, remember to talk loudly so I can record you on my phone!”

“Stupid.”

Lando laughed.

After what happened today, you thought you would try to be the adult in the relationship (even though there was no real relationship) and try to at least have a mature conversation with Oscar. You approached him, who was sitting next to Charles and Carlos.

“Oscar, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

That was different. Oscar always said something annoying but not now.

You led him out of the club, until both ended up sitting in his car.

“Do you want to go talk to my hotel?” he suggested, not really knowing where to go. You didn’t want the cameras and people taking pictures of you together, because everything could be misunderstood.

“Uhm— sure.”

Oscar drove carefully until you ended up at the hotel where McLaren was staying. The way to his room was a bit awkward, where maybe you expected him to say something but he didn’t. Oscar stood silent.

Already in the room, you sat on the bed and he stood still two meters away.

“I know you hate me because I’m a woman in sports and you think women don’t deserve a place.”

“That’s bullshit. I don’t think that. Women deserve to be in sports as well as men.”

You raised an eyebrow, confusion showing in your face.

“And why do you hate me so much?”

It was a question you wanted to ask him since the first time you met, that day when he told you that you didn’t deserve to be there and that you would surely cry on the first lap.

“Because— are you sure you already don’t know? It’s pretty obvious.”

“What is obvious?”

Oscar finally spoke, his cute eyes kept looking anywhere but you.

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was fifteen. At first, I thought it was because you were beautiful and you were the coolest kid around but I know it’s deeper than that. I kept thinking you would never notice me and I was trying so hard to catch your attention, so I guess I did what I had to do.”

“So you tried to catch my attention, making me hate you?”

He looked at the floor, avoiding your gaze, ashamed to acknowledge that he had acted in that way.

“It sounds stupid but it was the only thing that came to me at fifteen. When time passed, I couldn't suddenly say that I didn't hate you anymore and no longer wanted to fight with you. It was funny to fight before a race, knowing that it would make you go crazy and say horrible things to me. I liked to think that I drove you crazy.”

You thought about it, until you just said what you thought.

“You’re an asshole, Oscar.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

There was a rare silence, finally his eyes met yours. After so many fights, so many years in which the only things that came out of your mouths were negative aspects from each other, for the first time you were trying not to be bad with him.

“Oscar…”

“Yes?”

“I’ve had a crush on you since I was seventeen. No one knows.”

Oscar’s face looked surprised, a smile coming out of his lips.

“It took two years? See, I’m still faster than you in every aspect.”

He smiled and you smiled, a joke that was offensive and harmless at the same time. Now you understood everything, Oscar was never like a polite cat with you like was with others, he was aggressive and childish. And it was all because he had feelings for you.

“We’re two idiots.”

“We are.”

It was the first time he agreed with you, after all.

You stood and walked a few steps in his direction, Oscar kept in his place. There was a lot of tension in the room, but something had calmed down after both confessed your secrets.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said to you in an almost imperceptible murmur. “and so hard to get.”

“Do you still think I’m the coolest kid around?”

He smiled. “You are, you always were.”

His lips were really close to yours, hoping for a kiss you didn’t know what it could mean. Not when you had spent years hating each other. There was anticipation, there were lots of mixed feelings.

“Do you still hate me?” he asked, as he drew his hand to your cheek.

“I do, that never changes.”

Your lips barely touched when you heard someone knocking the door.

“GUYS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? PLEASE DON’T KILL EACH OTHER.”

It was Lando and with him was Charles, screaming as loud as they could. Both accents made the situation funny as hell and also the fact you weren't trying to harm yourselves, you were two seconds away from kissing.

“OSCAR, DON’T DO ANYTHING TO MY FRIEND!”

Before they did anything crazy, or called security, you and Oscar got away and opened the door. Lando looked at you suspiciously.

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

Charles kept his gaze on Oscar, also with a suspicious face.

“Why are you blushing?*

“We were fighting.” He said, not admitting the truth.

“Yeah, and I was winning.”

Oscar stopped looking at Lando, to only focus on you.

“That’s not true, I was winning. You’re dumb, you can’t win.”

“Oh, Oscar shut the fuc…”

“Calm, calm, calm down.” Charles grabbed you by the arm and pushed you to his side as he pulled you out of Oscar’s room.

When you turned around, you saw that Oscar gave you a smile. A sincere smile, something you had rarely seen. Hell, you were crazy for him.

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri 81 #oscar piastri smau #oscar piastri one shot #oscar piastri story #oscar piastri x female driver #oscar piastri x fem!reader #f1 #f1 x you #f1 one shot #f1 fandom #mclaren

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vunblr · 2 months ago

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Tangled (#2)

Pairing: Cecaelia! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Slight Angst. Fluff. Slow Burn. I don't know if there will be eventual teratophilia.

Summary: Between fear and fascination, a solitary creature struggles to protect his hidden world -and himself- after an unexpected encounter with a curious human woman makes him question everything he thought he knew about trust, danger, and boundaries.

Word Count: About 6.5k.

note: The Cecaelia is a mythical creature that's half-man, half-octopus, and that was the winning result of the poll about what kind of creature would be merman!Bucky. So yeah.

Previous Chapter

The next morning, she decided to switch things up. Maybe, going earlier would save her from another weird staring contest with the stranger from yesterday. So she packed her usual things -her project, a thermos, a snack- and threw on a light jacket before heading out. The air was crisp and salty, the sun still low and soft on the horizon, casting everything in golden light.

By the time she made it to her spot by the rocks, she was greeted by two small but satisfying victories.

First: no sign of him.

Second: the tide was low.

Very low.

The mouth of the cave yawned open before her, dark, cool, and tempting. She stood there for a moment, just listening to the rhythmic hush of the waves and the soft cries of seabirds above. The breeze tugged playfully at her hair as she scanned the shoreline, confirming what she had suspected, the tide was still receding. She had time.

Her gaze flicked back to the cave.

Maybe… she could finally take a proper look inside. If the locals were so set on being cryptic about the place, well, she could see for herself what the fuss was about.

Adjusting the straps of her backpack, she made her way carefully across the rocky terrain, taking her time to step only on firm, dry stones. Her shoes crunched softly against the pebbles as she went, and when she reached the cave’s entrance, she hesitated only briefly before ducking inside.

It was bigger than she thought.

Seawater pools clung to dips in the cave floor, catching the sunlight and scattering it across the rock like scattered coins. She trailed a hand along the rough wall, marveling at how nature shaped everything so perfectly.

God, this place was beautiful.

She wandered a few feet inside, careful to keep the brighter mouth of the cave within her sight, she wasn’t about to get herself lost in the dark, after all.

The deeper she went, the more she noticed little details, the way seaweed had been caught high in some places, as though pushed there by violent tides, the shimmer of shells wedged between stones, and even marks on the walls.

Scratches?

No… another kind of mark she couldn’t decipher.

----

Bucky was minding his business -lately, this meant trying to nap and failing- when the sound of footsteps echoing faintly through the stone reached his ears. His eyes snapped open, sharp and alert, and his pupils narrowed against the faint shaft of light filtering through the cave’s chimney.

Footsteps.

Too light to be a fisherman or some reckless teenager come to drink where they thought no one would find them.

No, this was different.

He pushed himself up slightly from where he’d been half-submerged in one of the deeper pools, and the water swirled softly around the dark coils of his limbs. His long hair, still damp from an early morning swim, clung to his shoulders as he turned toward the sound, tattooed fingers flexing against the rock's edge.

Then he heard it again, careful steps over the stones. Hesitant. Testing the ground like someone not used to walking there.

His jaw clenched. He knew who it was even before he heard the soft intake of breath that followed.

Her.

The one who kept coming to his shore. The one who dared to sit and hum and twist her strange threads in the sunlight like she belonged there.

He swore softly under his breath. What the hell was she doing now?

She’d never ventured this close. Never crossed into the mouth of his lair. Sliding silently beneath the surface, he moved closer to where the cave opened wide, staying in the deeper shadows, where the water was darkest and the light struggled to reach. Only his eyes remained above, sharp as a blade, watching her figure outlined against the sunlight spilling from the entrance.

She moved slowly, and wide-eyed, running her fingers along the walls -his walls- studying the cave like she had every right to be there. He felt something twist low in his gut, a mix of annoyance and... something else. Something that felt dangerously close to curiosity.

Didn’t she realize how stupid it was to wander into places she didn’t understand? His dark tendrils shifting restlessly in the water, echoing his unease.

She paused by one of the shallow pools, crouching to look at something glinting in the rocks. Shells or maybe bits of drift metal carried in by the tides, small things he sometimes kept and sometimes destroyed when he was in the wrong mood.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he watched her expression. Not fear, not yet. She didn’t know she wasn’t alone. A flicker of guilt assaulted him, uninvited. She wasn’t armed, wasn’t threatening. She looked... curious. Innocent, even.

But he knew better than to trust a human face.

He was used to watching her from a distance. Used to seeing her hands dance over her threads, hearing the soft sound of her voice when she hummed to herself.

But now?

Now she was here. Too close.

And as she straightened up and turned deeper into the cave, following the patches of light that filtered through cracks and chimneys, Bucky felt his chest tighten. What was he supposed to do with her? His fingers dug into the rock, and his muscles tensed under dark, storm-hued skin.

Maybe it was time to show her this wasn’t a place to wander.

----

When she started moving toward that alcove, -the one where her little seashell square hung, swaying gently on its line- something sharp and possessive twisted in Bucky’s chest.

No.

That was his now.

Without thinking much about it, he slid from the deeper shadows of his resting pool, moving swift and fluid along the rocky edge, like a shadow swallowed by darker ones. His lower half gripped the slick stones as he glided over them, slipping noiselessly into another pool closer to her path.

Hidden beneath the surface, only his eyes above the waterline, he watched as she hesitated, scanning the alcove’s uneven walls with quiet wonder.

She was too close.

His fingers curled over the rim of the pond, the dark tattooed lines on his arm twisting as his grip tensed. And then, he hissed.

Low, sharp, and deliberate.

The sound slithered through the cavern like a living thing, bouncing off the rock, and gaining depth and weight as it echoed through the chambers. She froze mid-step. She turned around slowly, all wide eyes as she scanned the shadows, the pools, the craggy walls.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, uncertain.

Bucky said nothing, keeping still as stone. She stepped back, brushing the cave wall lightly with her hand, as if for support. But that was all. She wasn’t running. She wasn’t screaming. Just standing there, scanning the dim light, with her mouth pressed in a thin line.

He stayed hidden, with his body almost perfectly blended with the dark water and stone. Watching. Studying.

She lingered another minute, wrapping her arms loosely around herself as if trying to convince herself that the hiss -that low, sharp thing slithering through the cavern- had been nothing. Just some natural sound of the sea moving through the rocks.

With a slow exhale, she wisely turned on her heel and started her march toward the exit, cautiously stepping over the slick stone.

But fate, of course, wasn’t on her side.

Her foot slipped on a patch of algae-slick rock, and before she could even yelp, she went down hard, landing with a splash in a pool she hadn't noticed before.

“Shit!” she gasped, as the cold water soaked her jeans instantly.

The splash echoed off the cavern walls, bouncing sharp and loud through the space. And that sudden, chaotic movement, the crash of her body into the water, the way her hands scrambled to push herself back up, startled something.

From across the pool, where the water dipped into shadow, the rocks seemed to shift. Her eyes caught on the movement, as the illusion of stone melted away, like mist burning under the sun. There, clinging to the rocks, was him.

Not a shadow. Not a trick of the light.

A man, pale and tattooed, with long dark hair plastered against his shoulders, and wide blue eyes locked on her with equal parts shock and anger.

But it wasn’t just a man.

Where legs should’ve been, his body changed, and thick limbs -deep blues and blacks shifting like oil- curled and rippled over the stones, some half-submerged, others coiled for balance. She could see suction cups running along the underside of a few, clinging effortlessly to the wet rock. The tips flicked and twitched, betraying tension and irritation.

For a long heartbeat, neither of them moved.

What-

He looked just as surprised as she was, like he hadn’t expected to reveal his position, to startle. Then, like a storm cloud pulling itself together, his expression darkened. He tilted his head slightly as if assessing how dangerous she was now that his secret was laid bare.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

The creep in the waves, she thought, as her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. Only… not quite the kind of creep she’d expected. No, this was paranormal-weird. A fucking living, breathing fairy tale was perched just a few feet away, staring her down like she had personally eaten the last of his cereal.

They just… kept staring at each other.

She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his tattooed arm flexed and braced against the rock like he was ready to launch himself forward. His inhuman lower half -those tendrils, massive and sleek in stormy blues and black- gripped the rock tightly, suction cups shifting and adjusting as if they couldn’t quite decide between holding steady or moving closer.

He was uneasy.

But she was very sure he could sense her unease too.

Her brain spun wildly, running in circles like a hamster in an out-of-control wheel. A male cecaelia? A fucking octopus man, just a short walk from her house? A goddamn myth glaring at her like she had just walked into his living room uninvited. Which, technically, she had.

Okay, okay… don’t freak out…

She swallowed thickly, trying to keep her face neutral, though she was pretty sure her wide eyes were betraying every last thought. She flicked a glance to the nearest rocks, desperately scanning for an escape route. If she could get up without slipping again, and if she could make it out before he decided to drag her back under…

Her stomach churned.

Because unlike a fish-tailed mermaid or triton, this guy didn’t need the water. Those muscular tendrils looked more than capable of hauling his heavy body across the rocks, and the way they were shifting now, gripping and testing, made her feel all kinds of not safe.

If he decided she was a threat -or worse, prey- she had no illusions about being able to outrun him on that slippery surface. He could snap her neck or trap her and pull her under the water before she even got to her feet.

Feigning death? Not an option. She wasn’t a possum, and he didn’t look like he’d fall for it.

Her thoughts tumbled in panic, but something in his eyes -that strange stormy blue, watching her so intently- made her pause. There was hesitation there. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with her, either.

So, she did the only thing she could think of.

The polite, and incredibly stupid thing.

She raised her hand -fingers trembling slightly- and waved.

“Um… hi there.”

Her voice cracked a little on the last word, but she managed to get it out.

Carefully, without taking her eyes off him, she pushed herself up to sitting, legs still half-submerged in the cold pool, and bracing her palms on the rocks to stop from sliding again. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it. But she kept her chin up, watching him watch her, waiting to see what the hell came next.

He didn’t move at first. He just stared, slightly narrowing his crystal-shaded blue eyes, with blown wide pupils in the dim light of the cave.

What… what kind of human waved at a creature like him? He understood her mistaking him for a man the day before, but now?

His sharp gaze swept over her face as if searching for something. Maybe she hit her head when she fell. Yeah, that had to be it. Otherwise, why would she be sitting there, soaked and trembling, but still raising a hand at him like they were having some casual chat over the weather?

His lips curled slightly, baring his sharp teeth, and a low, guttural hiss escaped his throat before he could even think about it.

She flinched -a visible, whole-body jerk- and Bucky felt a grim flicker of satisfaction. Good. Maybe now she realized what kind of danger she was in. But to his surprise, she didn’t scream. She didn’t scramble for the exit or try to throw something at him, both of which he would’ve expected.

Instead, she lifted her hands in a slow, careful gesture, palms out, like she was trying to calm a wild animal. Maybe she was.

“I- I mean no harm,” she said, with measured words like she didn’t want to spook him. Her hands stayed up, placating, trembling just slightly. "I’ll leave," she added, her gaze never leaving his, though he could see the rapid flicker of her eyes as they tracked the way his tendrils shifted and tensed against the rocks.

Bucky’s head tilted, sharp and predatory, watching her mouth as she spoke. He could understand her words. The meaning was there, swimming somewhere in the mess his mind had become.

But speaking back? That was another matter.

Once, long ago, he could speak like any human. Could hold conversations, ask questions, and give warnings. But now the words tangled, twisted up in the shadows of his mind, caught in the wreckage of what they had done to him. Thinking about them made something sharp and dark coil in his chest. His pupils narrowed.

Without meaning to, he slid forward a little, muscles rippling under pale skin as his tendrils dragged him closer, silent and smooth against the stone.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she instinctively leaned back, pressing her palms into the slick rock as if ready to push herself away, but she didn’t move. Not yet.

Every instinct in him screamed not to let her leave. She had found his lair, seen him. No human had gotten this close to him and walked away in… he couldn’t even remember how long.

Letting her go felt wrong. Dangerous. But…

Her eyes weren’t filled with the kind of hatred and greed he was used to, nor calculation. No net. No spear. No sharp weapons. Only those trembling hands and careful words. His gaze flicked to her legs, still half-submerged in the shallow pool. If he reached just a little further, he could drag her back, down into the water where she wouldn’t be able to run-

His claws scraped lightly against the stone, and the sound echoed faintly in the cave. He knew he was scaring her, could smell the sharp tang of fear on her skin. And yet… she wasn’t running away.

Maybe because she understood she couldn’t. But instead of scrambling away or begging, she drew in a shaky breath and tried something else.

"Look…" she started, "I didn’t mean to bother you. I didn’t even know you were-" She hesitated, darting her eyes briefly to his glimmering tendrils before snapping back to his face. "Here."

She swallowed and lifted her hands again, as if he needed more proof that she wasn’t a threat. "I wasn’t looking for you. I was just curious about the cave. You-" another pause, her brow furrowed, searching for words that wouldn't anger him. "You live here, right?"

Bucky’s jaw tensed, sharp teeth flashing for the briefest second as his mouth twitched into something that wasn’t quite a snarl but wasn’t friendly either.

He shifted forward again, slow and deliberate, and the water slid over his skin and tendrils with a quiet hiss. She stiffened as he moved, but didn’t retreat, watching him wide-eyed.

He tilted his head again, and for a moment she thought he might just keep glaring in silence. But then he opened his mouth as if to speak, and nothing came out but a low, broken rasp, like a breath caught on something sharp. His brows furrowed, frustrated, and his lips parted again, trying to form the words tangled in his head.

"Why..." It came out rough, the echo of a voice long unused.

He shifted closer, water dripping from his hair as he leaned slightly to one side, circling her, as if testing, watching how she reacted to every inch he gained.

"Why… here?" he finally managed. His voice was low and hoarse like it hurt to speak. His eyes pinned her, demanding an answer.

She blinked at him, surprised that he had spoken at all, but the question was clear enough.

"I-I just was curious about the place," she answered honestly, lowering her hands slightly now that she saw he was at least trying to communicate. "I moved to the cottage up the hill. I didn’t know this was your home."

Her eyes darted to the water where his tendrils swayed and curled with tension.

"I can stay away if you want," she added, softer.

Bucky watched her in silence, tilting his head slightly as if weighing her words. She could see his throat working, as though he wanted to speak again but couldn’t force the words out.

Still, he crept a little closer, tendrils rising slightly out of the water, black and blue slick shapes moving with that unsettling, liquid grace, like living shadows.

She swallowed hard, watching him shift, seeing the way his muscles moved beneath pale skin, the long dark hair falling over his shoulders in wet strands. He was... too close now. Close enough that she could see how the water slid off his skin, how sharp the lines of his jaw were, how inhumanly still he could go, like a predator assessing prey.

Her mind raced, trying to piece together anything that would make sense of this encounter. Maybe she could reason with him? Offer something, anything in exchange for her safe retreat?

Her fingers trembled as she carefully slid the backpack off her shoulder, keeping her movements slow, and deliberate, showing him she wasn’t reaching for a weapon.

“Um...” she cleared her throat, forcing herself to speak, though her voice was uneven. “I can give you what I brought with me... if you want.”

She opened the flap of the bag and hesitated for a heartbeat before reaching in. The colorful yarn spilled between her fingers, reds and oranges mostly, bright and warm against the grey light filtering through the cave’s chimney. She held it out awkwardly as if offering a peace token to some ancient god of the deep.

His eyes, flicked from her face to the yarn in her hand.

She tried to smile, though her lips felt stiff and dry. “You... want it?” she asked quietly. “You can have it. I’ll just... go.”

Stillness.

His gaze returned to her, dark lashes lowering slightly, as if thinking. Or weighing.

And then, he shifted. His body undulated with a slow, contained force as he slid a little closer, tendrils curling and uncurling at his sides like restless snakes.

Her breath hitched.

But instead of lunging or attacking, one of those black and blue limbs uncurled, hesitating mid-air before reaching out toward the yarn.

She stayed very still, with her heart thudding painfully as she watched the tip of the tendril brush lightly against the threads.

Still, she took the chance to speak again, softer now, like trying to soothe a wild animal. “I don’t mean any harm,” she whispered. “I didn’t know this was your place. I’ll go, alright? I won’t bother you again.”

His gaze flicked from the dripping yarn in his grasp back to her, sharp and assessing.

She swallowed, holding herself still, watching as he studied the mess of threads. The yarn was already soaking wet, clinging to itself in limp strands, and for a moment he just looked at it, frowning slightly, as if puzzling over its nature.

Then, she saw the way his brows pulled tighter, as the realization dawned in his sharp gaze. It was useless like this, just raw material. His tendrils flexed, curling tighter and then unfurling in a slow, almost thoughtful motion.

When he lifted the dripping yarn again, something flickered across his face. A decision. He moved closer now -gliding with that unsettling, fluid grace- and she instinctively stiffened as the water rippled from his advance. But he didn’t lash out. Instead, he extended the yarn back to her, holding it out.

She blinked in confusion, hesitating before accepting it carefully, as though she was unsure if it was a trap.

Then came a sound, low, rough, like something long-forgotten being forced out of his throat. “…Make.”

Her eyes darted up to him, frowning slightly, unsure she had heard right.

“What?” she asked quietly, as if speaking too loud might break the fragile truce between them.

His tendril twitched, wiggling the yarn in her hand, insistently.

“…Make.” He said again, with a scratchy voice. She could see frustration flickering across his features, clenching his jaw as he struggled to articulate more.

“You…” she clenched her fingers slightly around the yarn- “You want me to craft something for you?”

The way his body stilled, then the sharp nod that followed -curt, and decisive- confirmed her guess.

But before she could say anything else, before she could even think of agreeing, his voice rasped out again, harsher this time.

“No... spi—spells.”

Her eyes widened slightly. His tendrils curled tighter, and she saw the tension in his body, as though even the thought of her weaving some enchantment into a craft unsettled him.

She lifted her free hand slowly, palms out in a placating gesture.

“No spells,” she promised gently, watching his reaction carefully. “Just…” she looked down at the yarn in her hand, “Just yarn. Nothing else.”

His eyes stayed on her for a long moment as if trying to read the truth through every line of her body. Then, with a sharp exhale that might’ve been a grudging acceptance, he let his tendrils slide back into the water, though he remained close, watching.

She swallowed again. “All right,” she said quietly, clutching the yarn to her chest as if that fragile agreement between them had some weight. “I’ll make you something.”

Still, he watched, unmoving, as though waiting to see if she’d keep her word.

And, maybe because she was reckless or because something in his gaze wasn’t entirely threatening anymore, she gave a small nod.

“I’ll bring it when it’s done.”

The moment the words left her lips, she knew she had said the wrong thing.

Because his eyes narrowed, sharp and unyielding, and before she could take a step back, he moved. Effortless, like a shadow sliding over stone, he surged forward, out of the water.

She gasped, stumbling a half step back as he rose up, tendrils unfurling and curling along the slick rocks as he dragged himself fully from the pool. Water streamed down the pale skin of his human half, muscles shifting under scarred flesh, and she couldn’t help but notice how solid he was, how much bigger than she had thought. If those massive tendrils below his hips were legs, and he stood at full height…

He moved with unsettling grace, positioning himself squarely between her and the only exit she had. The soft slap of his tendrils against the stone echoed ominously, and her heart was suddenly thundering in her chest again.

He was blocking her way out.

Her fingers tightened instinctively around the damp yarn, and her pulse raced as he stared her down.

“Here,” he hissed. His gaze was unblinking, cold as the sea.

She swallowed, watching as one of his tendrils lifted to tap the yarn, insistently.

“Make. Here.”

Oh, he didn’t trust her. Of course, he didn’t.

Why should he? She had wandered right into his lair, trespassed into the most private corner of his world. What reason would he have to believe she'd come back, or not run straight to town blabbering about a sea monster living in the cliffs?

She licked her lips, with her throat suddenly dry, her eyes darting from his looming form to the narrow path that led out, now completely cut off.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice a little shaky. "Okay. I get it." She kept her hands slow, deliberate, as she crouched down on a drier patch of rock, her gaze flicking up to him as if asking for permission.

He watched her like a hawk, tendrils shifting slightly against the ground as though ready to react to the smallest wrong move.

Her fingers fumbled slightly as she dug into her backpack for her hook, small and harmless, but she could feel the way his gaze latched onto it, tracking the glint of metal with suspicion.

“It’s… it’s just for the yarn,” she murmured, showing him the crochet hook in the flat of her hand before she picked up the sodden threads.

She exhaled, long and slow, trying to calm the tremble in her fingers as she looped the yarn and began to work, her mind racing even as her hands found familiar movements.

Crochet. Right. He wanted her to make something, here, now. She needed to make something fast. Something that looked impressive enough to satisfy him, but simple enough to be done before the tide decided to join them in the cave.

A jellyfish.

The thought flickered in her mind like lightning.

Last year, she had made dozens of them — some as little hanging decorations, some flat like coasters, cute and simple. The design was burned into her memory. Bright colors, curly tentacles. Easy.

Perfect.

She swallowed, adjusting her grip on the yarn and pulling her hook through the loops with more confidence now, as muscle memory took over. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him.

He was still coiled protectively between her and the exit, but now he seemed… fixated. Watching her hands, the way the thread looped and twisted under her fingers.

Her mind raced as her fingers worked the damp yarn, still feeling the weight of his stare, unrelenting, sharp, and far too close.

And then, slowly, he inched closer.

Closer.

Way too close.

By the time she was halfway done with the main body of the jellyfish, his face was mere inches from hers, darting his eyes between her concentrating expression and her hands. She tried to pretend her heart wasn’t slamming against her chest, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the way his tendrils had crept silently over the rocks to surround her, some of them curling and uncurling near her feet, others bracing close to her sides like dark, living ropes.

For a creature that didn’t trust her, he clearly had no concept of personal space. She wet her lips nervously but didn’t stop working, feeling the heat of his gaze following every flick and twist of her fingers. “You know,” she murmured, not daring to look directly at him, “for someone so wary… you’re really not giving me a lot of room here.”

She risked a glance up, and for a fleeting second, she thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, amusement? Or maybe just sharper curiosity. His tendrils flexed against the rock, shifting slightly closer. One of them slid forward and she nearly flinched, but it didn’t touch her. No, it reached for the trailing end of yarn, brushing the thread lightly, as though testing the texture.

He made a low sound in his throat, almost like a hum, flicking his eyes from the yarn to her face and back again.

Her hands kept working, faster now, shaping the last round before starting the dangling "tentacles”: a few quick chains and curls, loose and wavy, the way jellyfish tendrils floated underwater.

"I’m making a jellyfish, by the way," she said quietly, filling the silence between them. "Not sure what you'll do with it down here, but-” She glanced at him, seeing how his brows furrowed slightly, as though trying to grasp her words. "But," she added gently, "you didn’t say what you wanted, so… this is what you’re getting."

Still, no answer. Just those sharp, blue, and way too focused eyes on her face. She tried to ignore how close he was. How she could see the faint shimmer of water on his skin, the way his dark hair clung to his temples. Almost done. Just a few more loops.

"If I finish this and give it to you," she murmured, working through the last stitch, "you’ll let me go, right?"

One of his tendrils curled slowly near her ankle, and she tensed before it retreated again, but he didn’t answer.

The final loop tightened under her hook, and she carefully turned the jellyfish over in her hands. It wasn’t her best work, but considering the circumstances? Pretty damn good. She held it up with slightly trembling fingers and finally met his gaze.

"Here," she whispered. "It’s for you."

For a long, heavy moment, he didn’t move.

Then one of his tendrils reached forward -slow, deliberate- and wrapped around the little yarn creature, lifting it gently from her hands. He held it delicately, looking at the bright red and orange yarn, wet but still vivid, which seemed almost to pulse in the dim light of the cave.

Her breath caught.

Was it enough?

His eyes flicked back to her, sharp and unreadable, before returning to the soft thing in his hold. Then, slowly, he brought it closer. He touched it with his hand, testing its weight and texture, making the curled tendrils bounce softly with his fingers. The way his clawed fingertips brushed over the loops of yarn was almost… reverent, like someone handling an unknown relic.

And when he lifted it to his face and sniffed it, she blinked in surprise. He made a low, thoughtful sound, something like a rumble deep in his chest, before glancing up toward the alcove where the seashell square hung. Not that she knew about it.

She didn't dare to move yet, holding her breath as his dark gaze returned to her, assessing, cold and sharp, and yet... there was something else there too.

Finally, with a rough, almost reluctant tone, he said, "Leave."

She didn't need to be told twice.

"Right. Leaving. Thanks," she mumbled, starting to push herself to her feet.

But as soon as she moved, pain shot up her leg and she stumbled with a sharp intake of breath, catching herself awkwardly on a slick rock. She heard him exhale a frustrated, almost growling sound.

And before she could even react, he was moving, fast and smooth despite his bulk.

Tendrils lashed out, wrapping around her waist, and before she could yelp properly, he hoisted her like she weighed nothing, slinging her over one broad shoulder in a way that knocked the air out of her lungs.

"What the-?! Hey!"

But he was already moving, crawling effortlessly across the rocks, with his powerful limbs and tendrils gripping surfaces with frightening ease.

She realized, squirming a little but not daring to struggle much, that he was carrying her toward the cave's exit, toward the open shore.

Despite the rush of fear and surprise, part of her brain registered the strength it took to lift her like this but he was using one arm and one tendril to support her, coiling firmly but not painfully around her, while he moved fluid and controlled.

When they reached the mouth of the cave, bathed in the cold morning light, he set her down, still holding her tightly with the tendril on her waist. She realized he wasn’t letting go. She barely had a moment to catch her breath before one strong hand cupped her face,pressing along her cheek and jaw, tilting her head to face him directly.

His eyes burned into hers, too close, too sharp.

"No one," he growled, like the sound of stones grinding together.

Her heart hammered.

"I- I won’t," she breathed, eyes wide.

His brow furrowed, searching her face for any sign of a lie, and for a long, tense moment, they simply stared at each other.

Then, with a final squeeze on her waist, -reminding her just how easily he could break her if he wanted- he let her go.

She stumbled back a step, watching him as he slowly retreated into the shadows of the cave, taking her jellyfish with him like a strange prize.

----

Once alone, he slipped back into the shadows, feeling the cool kiss of the water as he submerged into his favorite pond again.

But for once, the calm he usually found there didn’t come. The little jellyfish dangled from his hand, dripping seawater, with its soft yarn tendrils swaying gently with the motion of his arm.

He lifted it again, inspecting it closer now that the human was gone.

Red and orange, bright like the creatures that danced in the deep where no human dared to go. It shouldn’t exist here, among these dull coastal grays and browns, but maybe that’s why he liked it. It reminded him of things from the trenches of the sea, strange, delicate, and dangerous all at once.

With careful fingers, he turned it, watching how the thin tendrils curled and bounced with every shift, and for a moment he wondered, how did she know how these creatures were? And, did she guess what might catch his eye, or was it just luck?

His gaze drifted to the alcove where the seashell square still hung, weathered and faded from salt and air. Frowning thoughtfully, he slithered from the pool and grabbed another thin piece of fishing line. Working deftly, he tied the jellyfish, letting it dangle beside the square, and the breeze filtering through a vent stirred both pieces gently.

The tendrils danced, twisting and swaying as if alive, and something about that made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand or didn’t want to.

She had made this for him, even if coaxed.

And true to her word, it didn’t reek of magic, no strange tingling in the fibers, no shimmer of spells on its surface. Just simple human craft. He stared at it, folding his arms over the edge of the alcove and resting his chin on his wrist, watching the little creature spin lazily in the wind.

After a while, he found his thoughts drifting back to her, the way she’d stared at him, wide-eyed but trying to stay calm. The way she’d carefully spoken to him in a soft, and unsure voice.

Her face, her eyes.

Pretty.

He huffed to himself, irritated at the thought.

Pretty, for a human. Not that it mattered.

Still…

His brow furrowed.

Did she have a mate?

The question rose before he could stop it, crawling at the edge of his mind. Maybe someone waiting in that lair on the cliff? A male that would come looking if she didn’t return one day?

But then again...

If she had a mate, why would she spend so much time alone, sitting by his rocks, working with her strange threads? His tendrils twitched restlessly against the stone.

It wasn’t his business.

He firmly told himself that, squeezing the edge of the alcove a little too tightly. She was just a reckless human. One he should’ve scared off properly.

And yet, when the jellyfish spun again in the breeze, he watched it, and behind his eyes, he saw her hands moving, and her lips parting as she worked.

----

By the time she reached the cottage, her legs were trembling, partly from the cold of her soaked clothes, and partly from the leftover adrenaline rushing through her veins. The door slammed shut behind her, and she pressed her back to it, breathing hard, as if expecting him to have followed her all the way there.

But, of course, he didn’t.

She winced as she bent to take off her jeans, feeling the forming bruise at the base of her spine, joining the throbbing of her leg from where she’d landed in that stupid pond. "Great. Add that to my collection of regrets."

Once free of the wet clothes, she wrapped herself in a soft towel, padding barefoot to the bathroom to start the shower, replaying the whole encounter.

A cecaelia.

She knew the folklore. Old stories and whispered warnings of half-man, half-octopus creatures that lurked in the deep, dragging sailors under the sea, charming swimmers to their deaths, or seducing them into the dark.

Not that she ever believed those tales. Until today.

And God, even furious and unfriendly as he was, he was painfully, otherworldly handsome, in a way that made her stomach twist uncomfortably. She didn’t want to think how could it be to look at those features when they decided to charm instead of being hostile.

She turned her back to the mirror as she waited for the water to heat, rubbing absently at her bruised backside, but her mind wouldn't stop spinning. She could understand now why those old tales spoke of these creatures luring humans to them. There was something magnetic about him, even if she didn't want to admit it.

But...

If he really wanted to hurt her, he could have.

He could’ve crushed her throat, or dragged her under the water until she stopped breathing, hell, he had carried her like she weighed nothing at all. First slung over his broad shoulder, holding her tight with his arm, and then later, when his tentacles wrapped her waist and lifted her to her feet, holding her firm as if she were a doll.

But instead, he had trusted, and warned her off. No one, he said, the words harsh and rough on his tongue.

Because if she talked… if people knew something was living out there, how long before curious fishermen came with nets? Before reporters descended on the town, or researchers, trying to trap him, study him? Or worse?

All he wanted was to be left alone. And she -stupidly- had wandered straight into his home, poking around like some tourist in a forbidden place.

She sighed, finally stepping into the shower, letting the hot water pound her skin, washing away the salt and the fear. But even as the warmth soaked into her muscles, she couldn’t stop thinking of the way his tentacles had flexed when he watched her work, how close his face had gotten when he stared at her like he was trying to figure her out.

And then she wondered, what parts of the old stories were true.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @civilbucky @thatesqcrush @lonelyghosts-stuff @x-press-it @the-voice-beckons-below @angelilacsworld @dollface-xoxo @mcira

dividers by @/strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #merman! Bucky #cecaelia! Bucky #cecaelia

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quinnnfabrgay-writes · 5 months ago

Text

what it means to burn

This is my (incredibly and abhorrently late) entry for the Summer Lovin Challenge! My prompt was heat wave along with this AMAZING mood board! Thank you so, so much for putting this on @pedgito (and for being so incredibly patient)

pairing: dieter bravo x actress!reader

summary: There are many different ways to burn. People warn against getting sunburned amidst the suns cruel rays. Others are told it's in the afterlife where they'll feel hells wrath and burning flames. But burning desire that fills your body, floods your system, clouds your mind... what on earth are you supposed to do with that?

wc: 4.8k

tags/warnings: not much, some good ol' pining-esque angst (and some tooth-rotting fluff for funsies), Dieter is an idiot - but that's why we love him, i know nothing of film sets so there's that too

reader description: reader is described as having breasts and there is gendered language, otherwise nothing else about reader is described, no use of y/n

a/n: yeah, so this is almost exactly 6 months late, i am SO so sorry. i feel like i've been so stuck creatively this year. BUT here it is. at first I had no idea where I wanted to go with this, but then my wife and I binged all of Bridgerton in two weeks and I have that to blame for how some of this turned out. i also tried to really lean into the heatwave aspect of it 🫣 MAJOR shoutout to @bitchesuntitled for reading this over when i was losing my mind, i am so incredibly grateful

divider credit: @saradika-graphics

Your toes dig into the sand beneath your feet, each grain tickling your nerves - a much needed distraction you welcome. A bead of sweat trickles down your forehead, your body's desperate attempt at keeping you cool as you approach your third hour in this dreadful, sweltering heat. Your fingers twitch, fighting the automatic urge to wipe it away - the last thing you need is to give the director, Jared, another reason to call “cut” for the umpteenth time.

What was supposed to be a “quick and easy” take of the scene in which Dieter’s character has a heat-induced fever dream of your character scantily clad in an oasis, has now become a whole cluster fuck.

Dieter was almost an hour late to set - his reasons being missed alarms, traffic, every excuse under the sun really, but that was the least of your frustrations. Once everyone was finally in place and ready to start shooting, wardrobe mishaps galore.

They originally wanted to have you in a gauzy, deep cut dress, golden ropes tied around your waist to complement your figure. But between the combination of the heat and your sweat, the dress tape meant to keep the cloth adhered to your breasts kept slipping off your skin multiple times, resulting in multiple nip slips that had the wardrobe department ushering you back into the trailers for an emergency costume change.

But perhaps the most annoying circumstance of all has to be the sheer amount of times Jared has had the two of you film and re-film the part in the scene in which Dieter’s character finally confesses his feelings for your character- or the mirage of your character to be exact.

Picture it: Dieter’s character is lost in the desert, he’s been walking for days and nights looking for reprieve when he stumbles upon a beautiful oasis that’s too good to be true. Because it is. It’s simply a mirage used as a catalyst for Dieter’s character to come to terms with his romantic feelings. He’s supposed to come upon the oasis to find you lounging by the pool of a waterfall, dipping your toes in the water before approaching him, lavishing him with attention. Light sultry touches from you, flirty quips back and forth before devolving into a confession of love from him, all culminating into an almost kiss. Dieter is meant to lean in, your lips almost touching before his character wakes from his fever dream with a new determination to get back home and confess his feelings to the real life version of your character.

Which wouldn’t be an issue if it weren’t for the director finding a new problem almost every take.

The first few takes were issues with your wardrobe. The next few, he wanted to try different starting positions: you by the pool of the waterfall, then you lounging on a moss covered rock, finally he settled on you wading out of the pool of the waterfall, the water making your skin sparkle and glisten under the cruel sun.

A change you gladly welcomed the first one or two times you had filmed trying the new starting point, the water helping cool you down as the heat of the sun kept beating down on everyone. But soon enough even the water wasn’t enough of a reprieve, because then Jared had an issue with yours and Dieters chemistry.

Or lack thereof.

He couldn’t really blame the two of you though. At this point you were tired, sweltering, hungry, and so so cranky. Dieter wasn’t faring any better, you could tell he was two takes away from throwing a temper tantrum like a petulant child, and to be honest you weren’t too far behind him. The last thing on your mind was trying to convince the cameras of any romantic inclinations.

Although, if you were being honest with yourself, it really shouldn’t be that hard, it’s not like you would be acting at all. This isn’t the first movie or project where you’ve led opposite Dieter Bravo, and even though you’ve tried your damnedest to do the complete opposite, you have found yourself falling more and more for the handsome goofball with each passing day.

He was one of the first of the bigger names to show you kindness in your earlier roles; even took you under his wing as it were to warn you about the creeps to stay away from, to tell you the little tips and tricks of the trade, he even offered to run lines with you for auditions from time to time.

His party-going ways and eccentricities were enough to keep your feelings at bay for a while, but as the two of you grew closer, and you got to see more of the real Dieter, it became more and more difficult to deny that you had indeed fallen for the one and only Dieter Bravo. And you had fallen hard.

And if that doesn’t just piss you off.

“Oh for the love of Christ- cut cut cut!”

You and Dieter both huff and groan, you drop your head into your hands as Dieter slumps his shoulders in frustration. You feel like you could scream, your anger and frustration building to the point of tears gathering in your eyes.

“What is the matter with you two?!” Jared's voice becomes louder as his steps grow closer to the two of you.

You're just about to let him have it (deservedly so), but luckily Dieter pipes up before you can say something that might deem you “difficult to work with.”

“I don't know Jared, it could be a number of things. This goddamn heat being at the top of the shit list.”

You bite the corner of your lip to keep yourself from laughing, reigning your expression into a slight amused smirk instead as you watch Dieter and Jared go back and forth, mentally checking yourself out of the conversation until you hear Jared let out a dramatic sigh, running his hands through his hair before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in thought.

“Okay, I get it. I really do. I know I've been impatient myself, this heat really is getting the best of all of us I suspect.” He drops his hand, opens his eyes, and glances back and forth between you and Dieter as he pleads his case.

“Just one more take, please? Just the speech Dieter gives, that's all we need. You two are almost there, it just doesn't feel… right yet. There's an underlying sense of animosity that I can't pinpoint, but that's what is holding you two up. Just take a couple of deep breaths and let go. Give us everything you got, okay? Really, you two are ridiculously talented, I specifically requested you two for a reason. If there's any hesitation, just let it go. And let everything else be fuel for the fire. Use your frustrations and channel them into your character's desire for each other, okay?”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes. You know his speech was pointed towards you, there's no way it wasn't, but he was good about making it seem like it was a pep talk for the both of you.

You nod your head, blinking quickly to clear the moisture in your eyes before any tear drops could fall.

“Y-yeah, thanks Jared.” You reach your hand out to squeeze one of his forearms, a quiet show of appreciation.

Dieter rubs the back of his neck as he nods once in agreement, his lips pursed in thought.

Jared gives you two an unreadable look before speaking again. “From the top then, yeah? Just one more time.” He claps his hands, swiftly turning around and back to his chair as he orders everyone else back into their places.

Dieter lets out a long, drawn out sigh before turning towards you, an eyebrow quirked and a half smile sweet enough to wash away your irritation.

He briefly looks back over to Jared before shouting “can we have a moment?”

Jared simply slumps in his chair, waving his hand exasperated in a manner signaling “go on.”

Your brows furrow; what could he possibly need to talk about that can't wait until you've at least been able to scarf down the snacks in the shared trailer, enjoying its glorious AC?

He swiftly turns towards you, stepping forward and closing the small gap between you two until you are practically toe to toe with one another.

You draw in a quick, sharp breath as he reaches both of his hands out grabbing your own. Such a simple touch, yet paired with the sheer closeness he's created, it's enough to set your skin on fire where the two of you are connected. Or maybe it's just the heat finally pulling you into an exhausted haze and warming your skin to the touch. That had to be it, there's no way this means anything.

“Mírame, por favor.”

Dieter’s voice raspy from the dry heat, yet it's still smooth as silk to your ears. You acquiesce, slowly raising your eyes to meet his gaze.

The look on his face could easily bring anyone to their knees. The molten pools of his dark brown eyes draw you in, begging you to dip your toe in. A false sense of security washes over you as you believe that little voice in the back of your head saying “it's safe, the water's fine,” as if the tide of his gaze won't pull you under at the first chance you'd let it.

You could dive in head first into the deep inky waves, letting them pull you further and further down - not once feeling panicked or afraid even as the darkness spreads around the corners of your vision, finally feeling at peace. Finally giving up your resistance, letting him finally drown and consume you…

You're shaken from this image, your mind coming back into reality, dropping back into your body when Dieter squeezes your hands in his. The deep baritone of his voice floating through your ears like a choir of angels when he utters “estrella.”

“Y-yes?”

“I- um, I just–” Dieter cuts himself off with a huff, casting his eyes down and you're pretty sure you hear him mutter fuck under his breath. He slowly shakes his head, a self deprecating tone weaved into his voice. “I'm terrible at this.”

“Dieter, what're you ta–”

His head swings back up quickly. “I'm sorry.”

You jerk your head back slightly, completely caught off guard. He looks so determined, his eyes flickering back and forth between your own. He squeezes your hands again, takes a deep breath, and continues.

“I'm- I'm sorry. For today, for the million takes, for being late. All of it.”

He pauses long enough, you go to tell him it's fine, but he shakes his head, beating you to it. “No, I'm– fuck. Look, I know why Jared feels like there's some underlying animosity.”

You shuffle slightly, dropping your gaze to his feet, suddenly uncomfortable with the turn this conversation has taken.

“But what I'm trying to say is, I get it. You have every right to want to rip my head off right now. I know me being late really screwed up the schedule, and- and, I don't know. I just wanted you to know that I get it, and I really, truly am sorry. It was incredibly unprofessional.”

You brave looking back up at him. A pang runs through your heart at how genuine he looks. You have to bite the corner of your lip to distract yourself from the tears that want to well up, hoping you can keep them at bay.

“Thank you, Dieter. I really appreciate it.” A small, soft smile stretches your lips, meaning every word.

A small smile spreads across Dieter’s lips, mirroring your own.

“I- um, I just couldn't sleep.”

“...huh?”

“Why I was late. I really did miss all of my alarms this morning. I was up most of the night, too nervous to sleep.”

Your brows and lips wrench up in confusion. “Nervous?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds ridiculous. I mean this isn't the first romantic drama we've shot together or anything. I just really want to nail this scene. I want to be the scene partner you deserve. I really believe this could be the project that gets you nominated.”

“Oh, Dieter, th-thats's… that's getting a little ahead–”

“No, I'm serious. You deserve this. How can you become an EGOT winner without the Oscar? Huh?” He's full on grinning at you, those brown eyes sparkling with mischief.

You huff a chuckle out, shaking your head. “Dee, please. That was just a silly childhood dream.”

“No, it’s not, and you know it.”

He dips his head slightly, trying to get you to meet his eyes. Once you do, his face softens. A small, adoring smile graces his features.

“You deserve it more than anyone I know.” He drops one of your hands to softly cup your chin, his thumb brushing across your skin. “Mi estrella brillante.”

Your stomach drops as you try to remind yourself it’s nothing more than a friendly gesture. But Dieter apparently wasn't finished tormenting your lovesick soul. Before you have time to comprehend what's happening, he leans forward and drops his lips to your forehead, your chin still in his hand.

It had to have been only a brief few seconds, but to you that moment was frozen in time.

His devastatingly soft and pouty lips have your skin tingling, goosebumps forming along your arms, and all he has done is kiss you on the forehead, possibly one of the most innocent kisses two people could share, and yet your knees threaten to buckle as if he was worshiping your body underneath his tongue.

God, you needed to get out of this heat.

Dieter pulls back and must notice something's amiss. His face falls slightly, his eyes searching your own as he says your name.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

Your eyes flutter as you shake your head to try and rid yourself of this spell he's put you under.

“H-huh? Oh y-yeah. I think the heat is finally getting to me.”

“Alright you two,” Jared's voice further coaxing you out of your stupor, “let's wrap this up so we can all go home, yeah?”

If logic was accessible in this moment, you could easily remind yourself that this isn't him talking to you like this. It's all for the movie, nothing more.

Unfortunately, that's not the case, all logic flew out the window the moment his lips touched your skin. You have no doubt in your mind that you're looking at Dieter like he hung the moon– which works for the scene, but were you really acting?

It's hard to think of anything else beyond the feeling of his soft lips on your forehead, the reverent way he looked at you while cradling your chin in the palm of his hand, softly muttering, “mi estrella brillante.”

Mi estrella brillante.

You slowly flick your eyes back and forth between his, wondering if anyone has ever told him he has the most painfully beautiful eyes. So expressive, so captivating.

Many a time you have gotten lost in studying his micro expressions - one of the many reasons you fell for him honestly. The amount of emotion this man can portray in one glance, a simple lift of his brow, a slight tilt of his head or subtle frown - it was mesmerizing. He's mesmerizing.

His hand finds your cheek, the wide breadth of his palm practically encompassing the side of your face in its entirety.

In an instant it all becomes too much - the pounding in your ears, the shallow breaths you're struggling to take in, the haze forming around the edges of your vision. Your gaze drops to his lips. His irresistibly tempting lips, still moving, still reciting his lines, but the words remain a mystery to your overheated state of being.

The way the velvet plush of them unwittingly beckons you closer and closer. And suddenly it all becomes so clear to you.

This fiery all consuming heat, this overwhelming longing that has been ignited and seized your entire being, has nothing to do with the hours spent in the burning sun.

This aching, this burning, it's all coming from within you.

A burning desire all for one Dieter Bravo.

In hindsight, you were probably also dehydrated, but in this moment the only thing you want to drink in, the only thing you crave, is the taste of Dieter's tongue sliding against your own, to feel his lips mold perfectly around yours. The very thought of him pulling your body against his, close enough where you wouldn't know for certain where your breath began and his ended.

It's this thought alone that has you acting like you've finally snapped and lost your damn mind, maybe you have.

Dieter’s still in the middle of his monologue when you suddenly clutch the front of his billowy shirt in your fists, a soft breathy whine slipping past your lips, your gaze locked onto your plump pillowy prize. You see his lips frown slightly, pursed as he starts forming a question, but you can't wait one second more. You shake your head, silently asking him to not speak, to not disturb whatever stars or planets that had aligned to make this moment possible.

You gently pull on his shirt, bringing his body closer to yours as you angle your chin up, brushing your lips against his. Your eyelids flutter closed before you quietly whisper your simple request, “Stop talking and kiss me.”

Every worry, each little annoyance you encountered throughout the day all fades away to nothing the moment Dieter tenderly presses his lips to yours. His palm moves from your face, gently sweeping down the skin of your arm, goosebumps forming under his touch; an unexpected shiver shocking your system amidst the unrelenting heat.

He continues his path until his hand finds the small of your back, the pads of his fingertips stroking the skin bared from the exposed back of your costume. He gently pulls your body flush against his as he wraps his other hand around the nape of your neck, further enveloping you in his embrace.

The warmth of his body against your own should be the very last thing you crave in this unforgiving and blistering heat, your dress starting to soak through with your sweat, yet somehow his touch is exactly what you need. His touch like a balm to your nerves; his caress the only source of reprieve you desire.

You let go of the white knuckle grip you have on his shirt, immediately tracing the edges and curves of his body as your palms chart a path towards his hair. Your fingers twisting into his curls greedily, not even caring to pay any mind to the slick of the sweat drenching his tresses.

Your heart clenches when you swipe your tongue past your lips to find his tongue peeking out as well, the both of you in sync as you deepen the kiss. You can't control the small whimper you make at the sound of Dieter softly groaning as your tongue slides against his for the first time.

His iron grip around your body tightens even further; you swear your body could melt against his from the sheer heat shared between the two of you.

The heat so all consuming it's flooded your senses, spread through your veins, and now sets your skin alight. Dieter is flint and wood, and you are the spark that sets the whole thing ablaze.

Every pass of his tongue, every tug of his hair, each shared breath between you two only serves to feed and fan the flames; the heat of them licking at your skin, growing ever higher and higher until you and Dieter are one giant shimmering inferno.

But even roaring fires turn to ash eventually.

“And cut!”

Jared’s voice cuts through your trance, jolting you out of Dieter’s embrace. You immediately take a step back, giving yourself space to fully assess and absorb what you’ve just done.

Dieter’s hands hang aimlessly by his side now that you’re no longer wrapped around him, his chest heaving as he catches his breath, his lips swollen and slick from your kiss, his eyes wide and wild, glowing like the last few golden embers that refuse to be smothered into smoke.

You find the will to tear your eyes away from him and brave a glance at the crew around you. Some looks of shock come into view, some of annoyance, but nothing is as unnerving as the stoic look upon Jared’s face.

Your nerves quickly take hold, a chill running down your spine and spreading through your limbs as you slowly back further away from Dieter.

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t- I…”

You quickly turn, gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands and move swiftly to the trailers, head hung in embarrassment.

What have you done?

A rush of frigid air greets you as you fling open the nearest trailer door, too wrapped up in your distress to pay any mind to where it is you’re actually going.

It’s only when the door slams shut behind you that you finally take notice of your surroundings - a table littered with script pages, all strewn about with red and blue ink scrawled in the margins; a green robe haphazardly draped across the back of a chair; various bottles of water scattered across all in varying degrees of fullness, not one of them fully empty.

Dieter’s trailer. Of fucking course.

Even in a moment where you need some space to distance yourself from this school girl crush, you still can’t escape him. Whether you like it or not, you’re inherently drawn to him - even just a space that he’s inhabited has enough magnetic pull to draw you in.

And it’s so fucking frustrating.

You’re just about to let out a much needed scream when you hear the door whip open behind you, the sound of it clicking shut only seconds later after the unwelcome guest makes their way inside.

Well, technically you’re the unwelcome guest.

You bury your face in your hands, not ready to face what’s coming next. You don’t even second guess who it was that followed you in, it was inevitable that he would come running after you - always looking after you, never once giving you a moment to breathe. The sun itself no longer the source of heat that threatens to smother you. Even the chilling AC isn’t enough to temper the rising fury of your admittedly misplaced anger. If only he would give you just one minute to wrap your head around the situation you have placed yourself in.

The heat of Dieter’s body radiates off him in waves as you hear him shuffle closer to you, the exposed skin of your back already starting to dampen with newly formed beads of sweat. The feel of his hand coming to rest on your hip burns as if he is made of fire himself, a quiet “Estrella,” mumbled close to your ear. You drop your hands from your face in defeat, closing your eyes to muster whatever strength you have left, and push his hand off of your body.

“Dieter, please, don’t.”

He lets his hand fall away from you, but you still feel his presence as he stays put behind you.

“I don’t understand, did I- did I do something wrong?”

You slowly shake your head, still not ready to turn around, still not ready to confront this head on.

“It's just… it's jus-”

Fuck, it really is now or never, isn’t it?

You can tell Dieter is starting to get just as frustrated as you have been all day, a childish exasperated huff tickles your skin before the cracks in his composure start to show. In any other moment, you might have the patience and wherewithal to sympathize and agree that his day has been just as shitty as yours, but at your wits end? Well that’s no place for compassion or sensitivity, now is it.

“It's just what? Spit it out alre-”

You whip around facing him, feeling like the embodiment of a steaming kettle finally blowing its top, ready to let its contents boil and bubble over.��

“You frustrate the living daylights out of me, Dieter!”

He takes a step back, shock written all over his face, obviously not expecting this outburst of anger from you. His eyes narrow as he crosses his arms in a show of defense.

“Yeah, and? I piss a lot of people off. Where is this even coming from, I thought we were coo-”

“Oh please, we are well past you merely pissing me off. You have completely turned my world on its axis! You have single handedly complicated and confused everything I thought I knew about myself! You're so infuriating - with your stupid reservations over anything bluetooth-”

“Not stupid, the EMF waves mess with your brain-”

“-your complete and utter inability to care for or respect anyone's time but your own. Your obsession with alien probing?! What is that? If aliens are real, you really think out of everyone on this planet, that they would choose you to beam up into their ship just to what? Study you?”

“It's not an obsession! It's a reasonable and completely rational fear and respect for aliens. And no, not study me… I'm afraid they'll impregnate me, okay?”

You stare at him blankly, silence filling the air. Dieter’s face is so… genuine. His eyebrows downturned in distress, those deep brown eyes of his widened slightly in legitimate fear. If it weren’t for the circumstances or the subject matter of your current conversation, you would almost feel bad for him, almost wanting to close the distance and caress his face, easing his worries.

But his worries were… ridiculous.

It starts out small; a quirk in your brow, the corners of your mouth twitching as you let out an amused huff in disbelief. It tickles your insides, the sheer absurdness the turn this conversation has taken.

It quickly takes over, growing into giggles you try to contain behind your hands, but then Dieter’s face cracks - his own expression twisting in mirth as the two of you erupt into fits of laughter.

A few seconds pass as you both fight to reign it in until silence takes hold again. But this time, it's not as suffocating, it's… nice.

You softly smile at him as he returns the gesture, cautiously taking a step forward into your space, Dieter’s hands finding their home cupping your face, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. You can see the internal battle waging behind his eyes, no doubt trying to figure out what to say in an attempt to not set you off again.

You give him some much deserved grace, bringing your own hands up to wrap around his wrists, feeling his pulse beating rapidly below your fingertips. You take a shallow breath before attempting to apologize, but yet again Dieter beats you to the punch.

“I won't pretend to know what's running through that brilliant mind of yours, but if I've done anything to upset you…” his gaze quickly drops to your lips before flicking back up to meet your eyes, “... I'm sorry.”

“No, no you really don't meed to apologize Dieter, I… fuck.”

You snap your eyes shut, afraid to see the inevitable look of pity. You can't look him in the eyes when you say it. Brilliant my ass, more like a fucking coward.

“I'm just so embarrassed, that was so unprofessional and I know everybody is pissed that I messed up yet another take and I just… I couldn't deny it any longer. And I'm so sorry I took you by surprise like that, it was completely uncalled for and mmfph-”

Dieters lips come crashing down on your own, silencing your babbling. Your hold on his wrists tighten as you immediately match his fervor, not caring that you're already struggling to take a breath, his is the only oxygen you need at this moment. Before you can get too lost in the kiss, he breaks it off, resting his forehead against yours while you both try to regain your breath.

He nuzzles your nose before smirking, “there, now we're even.”

A surprised and delighted giggle escapes your lips, holding onto his wrists even tighter, filing away every second of this that you can before the moment is over. But Dieter was always full of surprises.

“And if you'll let me, I'd very much like to do that again. Maybe later, after dinner?”

You can’t stop the goofy grin spreading across your face as you respond.

“I think we could work something out.”

Thank you to anyone who reads this, comments and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated. I'm just happy there's someone out there who might enjoy the things I have to say ❤️

tagging some Dieter moots (no pressure to read or reblog obvi): @sp00kymulderr @perotovar @covetyou @chronically-ghosted @yopossum @whatsnewalycat @kedsandtubesocks @whocaresstillthelouvre @pedrostories @beefrobeefcal @seventeenpins @ozarkthedog @pedrit0-pascalit0

#this took me way too long to write #but i think i'm finally happy with it #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #SummerLovin24 #writing challenge entries

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capsgirl19 · 2 months ago

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Alright boys, Jesus Christ, I spent several hours in a Wikipedia hole learning about Doflamingo's boat, Spanish literature, and the Roman Empire and I think I might've unraveled a fair chunk of the plot inspiration for Dressrosa? Good lord.

So it all started in my local East Asian imports store. I was browsing their models, fruitlessly hunting for more Slowpoke kits, when I noticed they had a bunch of One Piece ship model kits. Super cool, pretty big selection, so I decided to see if they had Doffy's ship online. Well, they don't. Sad life, but I said "it's fine, we see it for all of like 10 seconds, I don't think that ship even has a name. And I'm super not bitter that Garp's warship (called 'Garp's Warship' on the model kit bc that one is actually unnamed) was included while my man's was not." And then I figured I should look up whether Doflamingo's ship has a name, which it apparently does. The Numancia Flamingo.

Well I get the flamingo part, but what the hell is Numancia? In the trivia on the wiki page, it says it may be named after the Spanish battle ship Numancia, so now I'm on that Wikipedia page. The Spanish ship was the first warship to circumnavigate the globe. Cool, but that's fucking nothing with regard to what really matters, One Piece lore. So it's time to go and look at the list of other ships named Numancia, because apparently this is not a one-off for Spain.

According to the list page, these ships are all named in honor of the Siege of Numantia, an old city near modern-day Soria. Numantia (Numancia is the Spanish spelling) was a Celtiberian settlement in 134 BC, at which time Rome decided that it would actually very much like for Numantia to be a Roman settlement, and in keeping with this sent out some guys to really just beat the hell out of those Celtiberians once and for all. Now, Numantia was a fort on a hill, so the plan was to do a siege, which worked. Attempts to break the siege were unsuccessful, and the city attempted to negotiate surrender under the condition that they wouldn't be enslaved. The Romans refused this offer. There was mass suicide, followed by the remaining populace burning the city to ashes before surrendering unconditionally to the Romans.

Alright, interesting, so this is picking up. It's not like One Piece doesn't have stuff named after random ass battles, but they're typically naval battles and the Siege of Numantia is pretty definitively a land-based conflict. I guess it can't hurt to check the "legacy" section.

Oh, that's cool, there's a Spanish play about it! Some scholars think it's the best Spanish tragedy of all time! El Cerco de Numancia. It's by--

It's by Miguel de Cervantes. Best known for his authorship of Don Quixote. Fucking hell.

Right. Cool, cool, cool. How does the play differ from the real life Siege of Numantia? Well, for one we're going to need main characters to anchor us to the story. This means adding a central romance between a soldier (Marandro) and a woman who lives in the city (Lira). Their marriage has been arranged by Lira's father, but postponed due to the war. Their storyline ends with Marandro entering enemy territory to steal bread for Lira, but succumbing to his wounds shortly after bringing it to her.

There's also the matter of Doflamingo's appearance. If you look up who he's based on, you'll get a lot of results about French musician Michel Polnareff. I can definitely see the sense of style and general coloring from this, but from the neck up they kind of look nothing alike, save sunglasses and blond hair. There's somebody else that Doffy's always reminded me of though, the shape of the nose, set of the cheekbones, the damn hairline...

Yeah, guy's a dead ringer for Julius Caesar, the face of the Roman Empire. I don't think this is a stretch, the dude literally showed up and immediately installed a to-the-death gladitorial system of enslaved prisoners in a pre-existing coloseum, it's clear Rome was an influence on the plotline.

Oda strikes a balance between the nobility of tragedy and the messy human reality of war. In the Cervantes play, every inhabitant of Numantia dies before surrendering to enslavement. Many of them gracefully succumb to starvation. The very gods of their land weep for their sacrifice. In reality, the residents of Numantia engaged in cannibalism (as one might expect of a slowly starving populace). Many of them died, but several thousand surrendered to become Roman slaves.

As he often does, Oda finds a middle ground between humanity and humanist ideals. Initially, I wondered if it was all in the name of his ship, all wrapped up before he even makes it to the New World: ultimately, Doflamingo is going to fail because the people of Dressrosa will die before willingly submitting to enslavement. But I think it's not quite so simple as that. Certainly, he's deposed in the end. Justice prevails, as it were. But it's hard to argue that a man who ruled a country for a decade, getting everything he wanted and enslaving half its populace, failed. Furthermore, the people are not noble after this ends. They're angry and afraid and they act in ways that hurt the people trying to free them and by extension their own self-interest.

We all know how Dressrosa ends, but I'm more in love with how unafraid of people One Piece is. How it depicts our flaws with sympathy even as it insists that people want to be good and usually just need a little encouragement.

Oh shit I've wandered off into misty-eyed anarchist sentiments about the inherent goodness of humanity again, this happens all the time, my point is: I TRACKED DOWN AND READ A SPANISH PLAY FOR THIS! THIS BASTARD HAS MADE ME A FULLER AND MORE CULTURED PERSON AGAIN! GODDAMN IT!

#One Piece #Dressrosa #Donquixote Doflamingo #Wanted to get this out for the Ides lmao #one piece meta

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takamimami · 8 months ago

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Does Heaven Know You're Missing?

Pairing: Eustass Kidd + f!Reader (no use of y/n)

this post from @innerfare sparked this thought and I had to get it down on paper :3

CW: SMUT, pretty mild tbh, fingering, nipple play, Kidd praises you, calls you 'angel' --- word count: 3.3k

NSFW; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS KEEP IT MOVING

Summary: Modern AU - Body Piercer!Kidd x Reader You go with your best friend to your favorite tattoo and piercing parlor to get your new piercings resized and you end up getting very acquainted with the body piercer. OR Eustass Kidd lets it slip that he thinks nipple piercings are hot so you let him pierce your nipples in hopes that he will fall in love with you, but turns out he already has. *Jewelry reference*

After a long nine months, you were finally on your way back to your favorite tattoo and piercing parlor, Punk Needles, to get your finally healed nipple piercings sized down. The past few months had been hell waiting for them to recover, but you couldn’t be happier with the results.

As you approached the entrance of the shop, you caught a whiff of marijuana lofting through the air, and you followed the scent over to two broad-shouldered men standing near the side entrance of the shop. Your cheeks immediately flush as you lock eyes with Kidd, his eyes trailing you shamelessly as a small grin forms on his lips. The same grin he tried desperately to hide when you showed up in his chair nine months ago telling him you wanted your nipples pierced.

The blonde standing next to him let out a chuckle before whistling over to your group, your best friend's head shooting in his direction before giving him a playful wave.

“You ready to make me hurt, Killer?” she calls out to him playfully, his tattoed arms raising to cross over his chest as he lets out another chuckle.

“I just hope you’re ready, gorgeous,” he calls back flirtatiously, and you turn to look at your friend as you watch her try her best to play it cool. Your group walks through the doors and immediately the receptionist calls out to you, her chipper voice ringing through the lobby.

“Hiya! Welcome into the shop,” she chimes, before a look of recognition dawns on her face. “You girls have been here before, yeah?”

Simultaneously you and your best friend nod, and she speaks up before you can, “Yep, I’ve got a tattoo appointment with Killer, and she’s here to resize her piercings.”

You smile gently as you hand your ID over to the receptionist, whose name you couldn’t recall, and she sets it down on the counter next to her as she begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“Okay, perfect. I’m going to go make sure the boys are ready for you, and I’ll be right back,” she grins, a hint of mischief on her face as she ducks through the doorway behind her counter and disappears.

Your best friend laughs giddily as she fills out her paperwork, nudging you in the arm to grab your attention. “Are you excited to let Kidd see your tits again?” she teased, and her comment earned an eye roll from you as you pretended to ignore her.

Your mind flashes back to your first time in the shop; your best friend had dragged you with her to go see the guy she’d been talking to at his job. That was the only context you’d received as you walked through the doors, your eyes immediately locking with a pair of amber orbs as he stood next to the orange-haired receptionist, towering over her as he seemed to grimace at your arrival. Ever since that day, you had taken your friend up on her offer to tag along with her to the shop, taking every chance you could to see him again. He was possibly the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, his red hair usually pulled back with a headband, his face riddled with piercings, and his broad chest a sight to behold. You were almost positive he purposely wore t-shirts that were a size too small, but you definitely didn’t mind seeing as it made it easier to see the muscle definition on his torso.

After a few visits to the shop you had finally introduced yourself, and after you did Kidd started coming around whenever Killer came to you and your best friend’s get-togethers you often hosted. One night in particular you were hosting a bonfire, and everyone was drunkenly talking about things they found most attractive in a partner. You only tuned into the conversation when Kidd spoke up, and he mentioned he loved a woman with piercings, even chuckling that nipple and clit piercings were his personal favorite.

The thought of the latter made you flinch, but you had secretly been contemplating getting your nipples pierced for a bit. You knew the shop had a piercer, so the next time you paid them a visit you threw caution to the wind and signed the paperwork.

A flash of orange curls pulled you from your thoughts and the receptionist returned with a smile still plastered on her face. “Killer is setting up, but he said you can head back whenever you’re ready,” she hums towards your friend, before turning to face you. “And I’ll take you back to Kidd’s spot whenever you’re ready, angel .”

You were almost certain there was a teasing tone in her voice as she said it, but she turned around quickly and walked towards the doorway again, turning to look for you over her shoulder. Your foot stuttered before finally responding and following her, your mind going back to your previous daydream.

“So, are you going to do the piercing or just keep teasing me?” you snapped as you crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously.

Kidd moves closer to you, towering over you as you sit in the chair. He leans down so he’s closer to your height, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses.

“Relax, angel, I’ll give you what you want,” his tone was more seductive than intended, causing you to clench your legs tighter. “It's just not every day an innocent little thing like you comes in asking to get her nipples done as her first piercing.”

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the session, and you had to focus on your breathing each time his hands touched your skin. When he was done his eyes lingered on your naked chest a little longer than what would be considered professional, before he bit his lip to suppress the smirk on his face and looked up to meet your gaze.

“They look perfect,” he says as he stands up and turns around to discard the needles and his gloves, you’re face growing hot at the suggestive compliment. Kidd must have noticed your blush as he returns with a new pair of gloves and some bandages to cover the piercings with.

“The piercings, angel,” he chuckles, his eyes not moving to meet yours as you feel your flush deepen. Once he’d secured the bandages to protect your piercings you tugged your tank top down gently, you’re heart pounding in your chest due to the tension in the room.

You chuckle to yourself as you think about that encounter, turning the corner to see Kidd perched on his stool, finishing with his sanitization as he turns to greet you with a smirk.

“Hello again, angel,” he says teasingly, the nickname sending a pleasant chill down your spine. You straightened your shoulders as you walked over to the chair in the middle of the room, trying to hide the inevitable nervousness you seemed to feel whenever the two of you were near each other. “How are those piercings healing up?”

You smiled warmly as you heard the door click, “Good, the tenderness is completely gone, so I think I’m ready for some new jewelry.” Kidd smiles at you as he slides his stool over to you, eyes trailing up your body curiously, before stopping at the obvious peaks of your nipples poking through your thin shirt. He shifts in his seat as he looks over them approvingly, looking up at you when you don’t move.

“You gonna let me see ‘em, or you gonna pretend to be shy again?”

His question has you unable to respond as you grab the bottom of your shirt with shaky hands. You lift the shirt over your head and take it off completely, immediately regretting not just lifting it when the cold air of the room runs over your now exposed shoulders. You feel goosebumps prickle onto your skin and your nipples harden reactively, and you swear you see Kidd’s eyes widen slightly as he notices.

He moves closer to you and reaches out his hand, stopping just before making contact, “Is it alright if I touch you?” he asks gently. You know he’s only being professional and considerate, but the ache between your legs wish he meant it in the way you were craving.

“They look great,” he comments, and you bite your lip as you feel your cheeks grow hotter. You hated the effect he had on you, especially because it didn’t feel like you had anywhere near the same one on him. “I have some custom pieces I can put on you if you want, otherwise we have some basic barbels in different sizes and colors.”

His eyes meet yours again and you swear they are a shade darker than normal, his face seeming almost strained as he spoke. He pulls off his gloves and tosses them into the garbage as you contemplate your response.

“Can I see the custom ones?” you inquire, and Kidd spins around to grab a jewelry case from his workspace and hands it over to you. You grab the case from him and look over the pieces, trying not to drop your jaw at the craftsmanship of the jewelry. As if he suddenly remembered something, Kidd pops up from his stool, walking across the room with a few purposeful strides before returning with a small box in his hands.

“There’s also these,” he says sheepishly, running his hand through his hair as he hands you the box. You ignore the nervousness he seems to be exhibiting and look over the jewelry, smiling at the intricacy of the angel wings on either end of the barbells. “I just finished them a few days ago, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to sell them or not.”

Your head snaps up, looking up at Kidd as he gazes down at you, “You made these?” He nods and your mouth falls open slightly, unable to hide your astonishment. You look back over the jewelry before handing the case back to him, clutching the small box with the angel wing jewelry in your hand. “I’ll take these.”

The smile that curls onto Kidd’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you as he turns around to return the jewelry case to his desk, slipping on another pair of gloves before returning to you. He takes a seat on his stool again and begins cleaning the piercings gently, making quick work of changing the jewelry before handing you a mirror to look over his work.

You smile to yourself at the new additions, a satisfied smile on your face as you look over to him, “They’re perfect!”

Kidd smiles triumphantly as he moves over to the sink on the other side of his room, turning the water on to wash his hands. He remains quiet as he returns to his spot on his stool, rolling closer to you as he hands you your shirt that had fallen to the floor at some point.

His proximity once again has your body reacting to him, goosebumps prickling at your skin again and your nipples hardening into stiff peaks. Kidd’s eyes flash down to them as he notices, quickly averting his gaze back up to your face as he speaks again.

“They may be a bit sensitive for the next few hours since this is the first time you’ve changed the jewelry,” he rasps, licking his lips as he strains his eyes to not look back down at your breasts. “But it should just be a dull soreness, nothing serious.”

You notice he seems more flustered than the other times he had pierced you, and you don’t know how to interpret his reaction to you. You found yourself staring at his painted lips as he spoke, and even after he finished.

“You alright, angel,” he questions, his voice sounding strained. You clear your throat and lick your lips as you look up into his eyes, his face only inches from yours as you nod.

“Yeah,” you manage to whisper, your eyes moving down to the growing tent in his pants. You’re not sure where your boldness came from but the words are leaving your mouth before you have time to give them a second thought, “Are you alright, Kidd?”

He follows your gaze before looking back up at you, the wicked grin on his face telling enough. “No,” he says honestly, eyes sinking back down to your still-exposed breasts, “I haven’t been alright since you fell from the sky and landed in my chair nine months ago, angel.”

You furrow your brow as he meets your gaze again, swallowing hard as he leans his in until his lips nearly touch your ear. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I met you.”

Kidd’s breath tickles the skin of your neck as he shifts slightly, angling his face towards yours. You take advantage and lean towards his ear, your boldness surprising you once again.

“It’s about time you said something,” you breathe, doing your best to keep your voice steady, “I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.”

You only catch a glance of Kidd’s smirk before he crashes his lips to yours, the warmth of the kiss a harsh contrast to the chill in the air. You feel his lips moving in rhythm with yours, lost in the taste of him as his tongue prods your lips open, slipping inside your mouth gingerly. The kiss turns rough once he gets a taste of your mouth, his hand reaching up to grip your chin as he pulls you upright in the chair. Your legs swing around the edge of the chair as Kidd slides in between them, beckoning you into his lap hastily as his free hand grips your waist.

You quickly become putty in his hands as he pulls you to him, your hips seated right about the growing erection in his pants. Your body moves on its own, your hips grinding down onto his as the hand he has on your chin moves to the back of your head and tugs the hair at the base of your neck. He reluctantly breaks the kiss to leave a messy trail of kisses down your neck, sucking down on the tender spot where your neck meets your collarbone. Your hands reach up and you run your fingers through his hair, trying to suppress the moans building in your throat.

A satisfied hum leaves his mouth as he kisses over the skin there, pulling away to look at you once more. “Sorry for keeping you waiting, angel,” he teases, the sound close to a growl as he leans you backward, your back hitting the chair you were previously sat in as he keeps you in place on his lap. You were suddenly reminded that your shirt was still off, and Kidd’s eyes trailed down from your face to your decorated nipples. “...But I had to wait for these to heal.”

He cups your breast tenderly before dipping his head and running the flat of his tongue over your nipple slowly, looking up at you through his lashes in search of any soreness. You bite down on your bottom lip as he repeats the action, a damp heat pooling between your legs as he begins flicking the tip of his tongue over it quickly. He lets out a satisfied growl before taking the entire nipple in his mouth, reaching his hand over to the other one to not deprive it of attention. Your fingers lace through his hair as you feel his fingers pinch your nipple lightly before dancing over the skin of your stomach, stopping to trace the waistband of your leggings.

He looks up at you with lust-filled eyes, silently checking for permission before slipping his hand into your pants and running a thick finger through your wet folds.

“Hmmm, so wet for me,” he praises, letting out a satisfied hum as he takes your other nipple in his mouth, this time teasing the sensitive but with his teeth. The sensation sends your head back against the chair behind you, your lips falling open as a quiet whimper leaves them. You feel Kidd trace a few lazy circles around your clit before sinking his middle finger into you. A louder moan leaves your mouth and your head shoots up to look down at him again, this time his eyes trained on you as he relishes in the pleasure he’s bringing you.

The squelching sounds from his finger moving inside you have a deep blush rising on your cheeks, yet you can’t seem to look away from him as he smirks up at you devilishly. It's only when he adds a second finger that you screw your eyes shut and drop your head back again, the stretch of his fingers mixed with the feeling of his tongue on your nipples enough to have you moaning his name.

“K-Kidd,” you stutter, trying your best to keep your voice down as he presses his thumb to your clit and begins rubbing rough circles around it, making the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hmmm, you sing so pretty,” he praises you again, trying his best to ignore the straining erection in his pants that was begging for attention. “Keep singing and cum for me, angel.”

You gladly do as you’re told and arch your back, your hips bucking into Kidd’s hand as you feel your orgasm ripple through your core. You gasp for air as the waves of euphoria wash over you, your vision going blurry as Kidd fucks you with his fingers, prolonging the glorious scene before him for as long as he can. His hand wraps around the middle of your back to support you as your hips finally still, coming down from your high as you slacken in his arms.

Once your breathing levels out Kidd pulls you up to his chest, holding you close as he plants gentle kisses along your shoulder and up your neck, finally finding your lips again as you run your hands along his chest. When you break apart you glance down at the tent still painfully present in his pants, but he tilts your chin back up to look at him, an amused smile on his lips.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive.”

You try to protest, but Kidd silences you with another kiss. He smiles into the kiss and then pulls away suddenly, looking up at you with adoration-filled eyes.

“Does heaven know you’re missing, angel?”

You don’t have time to entertain his question before a knock at the door has you nearly jumping out of his lap, Kidd laughing gruffly as the person on the other end of the door calls out your name.

“One sec!” You race to pull your shirt back on before running your hands over yourself, eyeing Kidd who has now moved to the other end of the room, flipping through the paperwork on his desk as you move to open the door for your best friend.

“‘Bout time! I’m already done with my tattoo,” she chastises, “Lemme see your tits!”

You laugh as you brush past her, walking out toward the door awkwardly before shooting a quiet ‘thank you’ towards Kidd. He doesn’t move and you make your way down the hall towards the lobby, before realizing you didn’t pay for the jewelry and turning back around towards the room.

You peek your head back in the door and Kidd is sitting on his stool again, his face buried in his phone as he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden return.

“I… I didn’t pay you for these,” you stutter, unable to look him in the eyes after what just happened between you two. You can already feel the blush rising in your cheeks as he stands and makes his way over to you, grabbing your chin and pulling you into another sloppy kiss.

“I’ll come over tonight after I get off, you can pay me then.”

the idea of eustass kidd calling me 'angel' will never not make my knees weak :3 sorry for the limited smut, this ended up being so much longer than I thought it was going to be. I just really wanted to drive home the sexual tension because he makes me crazy lol As always, feel free to message me or leave a like or comment to let me know what you thought :3 ✨come say hai :3✨

Do not repost or translate.

#eustass kid #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid smut #ek smut #eustass x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x you #eustass kidd x reader #eustass kidd x you #one piece #one piece smut #limitlesswrites

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thefiery-phoenix · 1 year ago

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YANDERE BAKUSQUAD HEADCANONS

You were a really determined person. You always put your best whenever you did something, and didn't worry about the result and that was something the Bakusquad admired about you, however, you were incredibly naive and trusting of everyone around you

You had met the Bakusquad on your first day. As usual, Bakugou was yelling at you about something, and suddenly, you snapped and asked him to shut up. Everyone around you gasped and soon, the Bakusquad looked at you with immense respect. Ofc, Bakugou wasn't too happy about that but eventually he let you join the Bakusquad since he was actually impressed with your quirk and courage to stand up against him which most people can't do without breaking at least 5 bones

You loved hanging out with the Bakusquad and they loved hanging out with you. They didn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable

Whenever someone tries to bully you, they immediately stick up for you with intense threatening looks in their eyes like they're about to murder them. Pretty soon, their overprotectiveness for you had turned into a CRAZY OBSESSION and they realized that they all liked you

However, they didn't like how innocent and trusting you were. What if someone takes advantage of that? What if someone hurts you? What if they do something bad to you? They talked about it when you were absent from school one day

''Man... Y/N is really cool and I think we're all in love with her but....'' said Sero but stopped in the middle. ''But what?" asked Mina. ''She's so trusting of everyone around her and not to mention really innocent'' he said. ''Yeah, well someone has to show that little nerd that not everyone can be trusted'' growled Bakugou. ''That's right.... after all, we ARE becoming pro heroes and what sort of heroes will we BE if we can't save our friend?" asked Kirishima. ''Kiribro's right. We NEED to take action for Y/N's own good and keep her safe'' and everyone agreed

Soon, they even started getting clingier and possessive of you than usual and finally, you started trying to avoid them, but that was a HUGE mistake

''Y/N WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING!!??" screeched Bakugou as he tried running towards you but you just waved back at him and shouted, ''Sorry... I need to go'' and ran off in the other direction. When it soon dawned upon them that you were avoiding them, they were hurt at first, but came to the conclusion that you were just shy and scared and confused. But don't worry, they're going to take care of everything for you

You were tied to the headboard of a bed with a few ropes and you had a quirk cancelling cuff around your ankle after you blacked out due to them bonking you over the head. You then saw your old friends, the Bakusquad come in and you said, ''Guys... this isn't funny, let me go'' you snarled. ''Why would we do that when we worked so had to take you away and try to keep you safe?'' asked Denki. "Guys, if this is about the time I declined your offer about going to the arcade, I said I was sorry since I had somewhere else to be'' you said

''It's all right.... From now on, you're going to be ONLY with us since we all love and care for you'' smiled Kirishima as you yelled, ''YOU GUYS ARE PSYCHOPATHS!!" Bakugou just laughed and tried stroking your cheek but you attempted to bite his finger off. ''Ohh...she's feisty'' squealed Mina. "None of this would happened if you were so naive all the time...dumbass"

''We'll undo the ropes for you when you can prove you can be trusted. It's just that we don't want to see our darling in any form of danger now do we, Mi amor~" said Sero

You wished your life would go back to normal and you regretted being friends with these people who claimed all they wanted to do was keep you safe. They DID treat you well, and they never raised their hand at you. Of course, they had to stop Bakugou from literally MURDERING you when you act up while Kirishima and Denki and Sero calm him TF down and Mina tries comforting you. They actually treat you like royalty once you develop Stockholm Syndrome and cuddle sessions with them are a MUST! Maybe it won't be so bad

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bakugou imagines #yandere bakugou headcanons #yandere kirishima eijirou oneshots #yandere sero hanta headcanons #yandere denki kaminari scenarios #yandere mina ashido oneshots #yandere bakusquad #yandere bakusquad x reader #yandere bakusquad oneshots #yandere bakusquad imagines #yandere bakusquad scenarios #yandere bakusquad headcanons

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quinloki · 4 months ago

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Quin's Terrible Two's

Here we are at the back half of the Tumblrversary event \o/

Some polls are closed, Some Are Still Going (go vote!)

The votes have been counted, the results have been assessed! Now it's time for What Happens Because of All of That <3

So without further ado -- /hands the results of the poll off to Marco and Rayleigh and let's them take it from here./

(Hell yeah I voted in my own event XD )

Balanced Result

CW: sensory deprivation, harried sensations, double penetration (2 dicks in one vagina), multiple orgasms, outside no audience, mdni

Marco and Rayleigh are completely unreadable as they look over the poll results. The smiles on their faces seem soft and amused, and you don’t sense any hostility, but it’s hard to say.

“Interesting,” Rayleigh muses, eyes shifting away from the results toward you.

“The smash one, pass one’s are pretty even, yoi.” Marco hums.

“The both option prevailed, however.” Rayleigh says. “So there’s interest and consent.”

Heat flushes up your body at the look the two give you. Hooded eyes, relaxed gaze, relaxed body language, nothing about either of them was on edge, but there was still something there. Something that reached out and pet all the sweetest places on your body. A desire that whispered up your neck and dripped between your legs.

Putting a hand up to your nose you panic at the small trickle of blood coming from it.

“More than just passing interest,” Marco hums, holding your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your lips part as you gasp a little in surprise at the action and he wipes the blood away with the pad of his thumb. “You seem just a little indecisive, so let us help you with that.”

Soft fabric covers your eyes, and you’re certain it’s Rayleigh behind you that ties it into place.

“This way you won’t have to worry about who is doing what,” Rayleigh says, voice soft and low by your ear as he ties the blindfold into place. “You can just relax, and enjoy the pleasures of it all.”

You can barely feel their touches as things begin. Deft fingers remove your clothing, moving your body as needed with ease. You move as they move you, the guiding motions so natural it almost feels like you’re moving under your own power. The only thing that makes your heart rate rise and your breath quiver is the feel of the warm air on your skin.

The soft grass between your toes, and the sun that warms your skin until one or the other of them stands between you and it. Not a word is spoken between them, until a finger curls around the band of your panties, and the strap of your bra.

“Sing well, sweet bird,” Marco hums softly into one ear.

“We’ll keep you safe, young lady.” Rayleigh purrs into your other ear.

Your panties slip to your knees, and your bra is pulled down, restraining your arms a little as your breasts spill free. They lean you forward, and the one in front of you licks your nipples, while the one behind you spreads your labia, admiring the view for a second before licking along your folds.

You gasp, the shivering whine dripping from your lips as strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you on your feet as the hungry tongue explores every fold and crease of your pussy. Strong hands on your shoulders hold you in place as a greedy tongue licks and flicks your stiffening nipples, causing your fingers to flex and clench. Soft lips suckle your other nipple, leaving the air to tease and cool the first one.

“Please,” you husk, blood and need rushing through you. The tongue between your thighs pushes through your folds, teasing your clit as his nose nudges the entrance of your vagina. The hands on your shoulders adjust, one hand bracing you against your clavicle, as his mouth and spare hand tease both your tits.

You moan, body tensing between them and squirm from the building pleasure. Your movements do nothing to throw them off or slow them down and the building euphoria is an unavoidable rush.

“I’m gonna… cum, I’m gonna-!” You gasp the words in a mix of need and concern. Both of them hum into your skin, changing nothing about what they’re doing. The pleasure tingling along your skin rolls up from your thighs to your chest and back. Like a shift of water that gets faster and deeper with each slosh.

Until it spills over and the pleasure soaked into your skin peaks. Your muscles tense from the euphoria as it moves up from your feet to your head, making you dizzy and hot from it.

Your bra and panties are removed entirely, and you’re moved with disorienting ease.

“She’s rag dolled a bit,” Rayleigh muses.

“Being relaxed will help, yoi.” Marco agrees, and you think he has you hugged to his chest because you can feel the words against your chest.

Two fingers push inside you and a content and pleasant sound rolls around your tongue before you let it out. A soft chuckle from the two men is all you get as two fingers become three. The wet squelch of your pussy makes you throb in anticipation.

“If we tease her too much longer, she may start begging.” Marco chuckles and you feel the fingers push in deeper, flexing inside your gummy walls and giving you a sweet ache.

“A proper gentlemen doesn’t make a young lady beg,” Rayleigh says and you think he might be behind you, the one whose fingers are working your pussy like he lost something in there. “At least not at the beginning.”

His fingers pull free and a nice thick cock presses into your cunt, sinking into the warm wetness easily. You keen sweetly as you’re lifted up enough to take the whole length in, angled so that your clit was nestled against the torso beneath you.

“Beautiful,” Marco sighs as warm hands settle on your hips and begin to move you. “Don’t worry about anything, pretty bird.” He purrs as pleasure nestles against your clit and coils around your insides. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

The cock inside you pulls out and you whine from the emptiness, a new one pushes in and fills you to the hilt again and you moan contentedly. But even that one only thrusts in a few times before pulling out again.

You full on pout from the teasing, but hands and lips are on you in a flurry. Teasing your breasts, rubbing your clit, leaving hickies and teeth against the tender curves of your neck. The sensations are focused, flooding pleasure into you from several places at once.

Just as you start to feel another orgasm building, both cocks push into your pussy at the same time. The initial action and stretch catches your breath in your chest and you tense. A finger against your tongue and warm, soothing hands on your skin help ground you.

“Breathe,” says one.

“Relax.”

“You can take it.”

“Just breathe, and sink… there you go.”

“Good girl.” Both say.

The praise in stereo almost brings you over the edge as you sink down on both of them. The intense stretch doesn’t hurt. It feels like it should be too much, that you shouldn’t be able to take it, but with every shift they go deeper. The deeper they go the better it feels. The skilled fingers teasing your clit and the hungry mouths kissing your body help you ease down further and further.

The grass against your feet is the only sense of who is where that you have, being mostly sure you’re at least upright, with the ground beneath your knees and the sky above your back.

A little more sinks in and hits a spot that sends stars into your vision. The men miss nothing and bully the spot until you’re clenching around them both, cumming so hard one of them bites you to force you to breathe in before you pass out. The pain shatters the powerful pleasure, but they don’t stop bullying that place, fingers on your clit teasing you and hurdling you toward another orgasm.

Shattered swears and babbled words pour from your lips as your limbs curl and tense, fingers scratching deep marks into whoever you’re grabbing a hold of. Your pleas and pleasure are screamed out into the sky as the orgasm claws into your muscles so deeply you’re keening cries of thanks even when you’re breathing in.

It feels like it takes you forever to come down from the high, soft kisses and gentle caresses easing your descent as you sink down even further onto their cocks.

“A couple more and we’ll fill you up so sweetly.” Rayleigh says, the realization that neither one of them have cum yet sinking into you a little like a cold sweat.

“Hang in there, pretty bird.”

#2 year anniversary #quin muses #tumblrversary #2 year tumblrversary #reader insert #x reader #quin's terrible two's #marco the phoenix #silvers rayleigh #mdni

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seikoru · 1 year ago

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!Nerd Armin h'cs

Since I found out that the dudes here love !Nerd Armin, I felt it was my duty to share my head-canons on him. I have no idea how to use tumblr at all but here it is. All of this is a pieces of my au for a huge storyline armin fanfic with original female character, so…. just enjoy

You met completely by accident. You only went to Wall High School this year when you moved. And you didn't really like the local way of doing things. The whole caste thing, the whole cool dudes/loser thing. it was weird.

You wanted to hang out with everyone, no matter how different they were. Even though you were considered a cool and pretty girl by their metrics.

You first asked Armin for help after another biology class with a hell of a teacher, and he gladly agreed to help.

Armin was immediately very sweet to you. The way he would sometimes adjust his glasses or tuck a strand of hair behind his ear while he was explaining a topic to you…

To be honest, he was a bit frustrated by your lack of results after his help. You were barely getting better grades. He just didn't notice that half the time you weren't looking at the textbook, but at him.

But the more you became friends, the better his character revealed to you. He was known around school as the creepy anime otaku. Was that true? Absolutely. When you first went to his place, you were literally in a pink kingdom where all the walls were covered with anime girls.

Yeah, Armin had never felt the touch of a woman before. He'd had friends like Mikasa, but you… you were something else.

You'd been friends for almost six months until the winter ball was announced. And you literally didn't know who to go with. There were tons of guys chasing you, but they were all like Reiner: idiotic jocks.

The prom was coming up, and you still hadn't found a date. Armin rejected the prom: he didn't like the idea of jostling with sweaty, drunken teenagers to idiotic music in a stuffy room when he could be at home playing video games.

You managed to talk him into going out with you as a friend.

Did you kiss him ballroom night? Yes, you did.

When you, already drunk, said "I want to kiss you", Armin was quite taken aback. At first he just pulled you away and said something like "You need to sober up," but his heart was jumping out of his chest.

When you started convincing him of your sincere affection for him, he became hesitant. Quietly he muttered "I don't want you playing with my feelings".

You asked "Feelings?". He realized he had said something unnecessary, but there was no turning back. So you moved closer, took his glasses off his nose and gently touched his lips with yours.

In a relationship, Armin is the ultimate golden retriever. He smiles widely when he accidentally meets you in the school hallway at recess and is adorably embarrassed when you fleetingly touch him in public.

You're not allowed to spend much time together, lest you bring a wave of bullying on Armin. You had to keep yourselves within the school castes. But you guys didn't like the PDA anyway, so it wasn't a big problem.

Armin is proud of his collection of anime girls on his wall, but he's even more proud of his girlfriend. He always thought you were out of his league, and he couldn't hope for anything more than friendship.

But how happy he was when you would come to his house and sit on his lap while he was on Discord with his friends playing some games.

Armin often caught hyperfixated on his studies and wouldn't get out from under mountains of textbooks. It's not like you like studying much. But Armin is fine with it: he's willing to do ABSOLUTELY ALL of your homework for you.

Socially, he doesn't show how soft he is on the inside. While you were friends, you were sure he only knew how to be sassy. But hell, it turns out he's also good at kneeling in front of you, slowly kissing your ankles, calves and knees, working his way up to your thighs-

And you loved owning that side of him. Supple, belonging only to you. When he stared at you with admiring eyes, and you gently brushed away the strands of hair that fell across his face. He could have tell to fuck off to anyone else without a second thought, but not you.

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maxiskindahere · 1 year ago

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Did you know? | Emily x F!Reader

this is one of my first few fic back to tumblr so i sincerely apologise if it is ass xx

Prompt: Emily introduces Y/N to Charlie & Vaggie during the twos visit to the heaven, Y/N attends the trail, blah blah emily is displeased

“Y/N!” The girl jumps as she hears the voice from behind her “Holy-“ She yelps out, before realising it’s Emily and letting out a soft sigh and she turns to face the girl, taking note of Sera & the two others following after her

“Sera, Emily” The girl bows, a sly smile on her face as Sera waves her off “No need to put on a show, this is Charlotte, Lucifers daughter.. and her plus one.” Sera states, introducing the girl to the two “Oh- wow” Y/N replies, her eyes wide

“Does uh.. Adam know?” She hesitantly asks, glancing between Sera and Emily. Y/N was unlucky enough to be close with Adam and Lute, she knew all about the exterminations and all about how Emily was not allowed to know.

“Adam is aware, but on that note.. I have something to speak to him about. Take care of Emily for me” Sera says softly, before disappearing with a glow leaving the three alone

“It’s actually Charlie” Lucifers daughter says shortly after Sera left, Y/N waves her off “Y/N, if you haven’t gathered” She says with a laugh as Emily takes her hand into hers “Is this your guard or..?” She trails off, looking the other demon up and down

“Vaggie? No, but she does help protect the hotel from danger” Charlie corrects the girl, wrapping an arm around Vaggies waist “Interesting, kinda like what I do then” The h/c girl hums, grinning at Emily

“Vaggie is Charlie’s girlfriend” Emily adds on, her eyes shining brightly. Y/N gapes at the girl “I knew it. All the cool gay girls went to hell…” She exclaims dramatically, wincing as Emily slaps her lightly

“You are literally my girlfriend.” Emily points out, resulting in the demon duo in front of them to let out a short gasp “And Sera is cool with that?” Vaggie asks suspiciously, looking the two up and down

“No, she’s super homophobic.” Y/N deadpans before laughing “Nah she’s chill with it, everyone is!” She says happily, wrapping a wing around Emily “Why? Is there people not cool with you guys down there?” She questions, a pang of hurt soaring through her as she thinks of how it must hurt to not be accepted

“No! No! everyone’s cool with it, there’s a lot of us down there..” Charlie explains awkwardly, keeping a smile on her face “Yeah I suppose that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Y/N asks, smiling at the princess

“Yeah! I have this hotel to rehabilitate sinners to help prevent e-“ Y/N quickly cuts off the girl, “Emily! Uh, would you be able to go grab us some ice cream? There’s this.. surprise! I have planned and I want to get some other input from it” Y/N swiftly lies, despite how bad she felt she knew Emily is better off not knowing.

The Seraphim smiles brightly at her “Of course! I’ll get your favourite, I’ll get surprises for those two!” She says excitedly, and as soon as she’s out of earshot Y/N turns to the two demons “Look, can you keep extermination talk to the absolute minimum, in fact say nothing about it at all.” She hisses out in a whisper, flinching at the disappointed look on Charlie’s face

“I’m not okay with it, I think it’s wrong but that’s Sera’s job to deal with. Not Emily’s, I won’t have you trying to manipulate her with a sob story to keep her on your side.” Y/N states with a tone of finality in her voice before straightening herself with a smile

“I do hope Sera listens to you, despite whom I will be with during the trial.” She explains softly, trying to make it obvious how against the exterminations she is “Wait, don’t tell me..” Charlie groans out “Let me guess, Adam?”

Before she can answer, another voice does for her “Sup little Lute” Y/N rolls her eyes as she turns to face Adam & Lute, who was glaring daggers at Vaggie “Hello Adam” she replies, keeping an eye out for Emily “Just wondering why you’re with these bummers, when you could be with us” He says cockily, jerking his finger at the two hellborns

“If you must know, Emily brought them around. Speaking of, watch what you say in front of her.” Y/N hisses out, glaring at Adam who raises his hands in faux defense “No need to be so hostile, babes!” Lute sighs stepping forward “Ignore him, you are aware you will be with us during this court session rather than Emily, correct?”

Y/N sighs, nodding her head “Yes ma’am, i’m well aware how much you hate my happiness” She says rolling her eyes as Lute glares at her, no true heat behind them “Just making sure, don’t spend too much time with these filth” She hisses out before she and Adam take their overly dramatic leave

Before much more can be said, Emily arrives back with their ice creams and handing them out “What did they want?” She asks Y/N who pauses before answering “Lute just wanted to give me pointers on training, nothing for you to worry about my dove” She swiftly lies, placing a kiss to Emily’s free hand

“So we’re just lying now.” Vaggie mutters under her breath, anger clear in her voice “Anyways! I never got to tell you about my hotel!” Charlie quickly butts in, her voice frantic as she waves her hands around

“Oh yeah, tell me about it”

Y/N watches as Emily paces nervously in their shared room, she was nervous. Anyone could tell. “You want to talk about what’s wrong?” Y/N offers, patting the seat beside her as Emily swiftly moves to sit beside her lover

“I just can’t help but think that this trial is so much more than just about the hotel.” She mutters, fiddling with her fingers “Sera’s been hiding things from me recently, I don’t like it.” She adds on, looking at Y/N with doelike eyes

“I’m sure whatever she isn’t telling you.. isn’t important” Y/N says awkwardly, brushing the hair out of Emily’s face “It’ll be okay. I won’t be with you, but I’ll be within arms reach so if you need anything.. I’m sure they’ll understand if you fly down to me” the girl says reassuringly to the older girl who smiles at her

“You’re the best, you know that right?”

—

The trial went horribly. Adam had just revealed the exterminations to not only Emily but the entire council, in a surprisingly short musical number.

Which leads Y/N to now, sat alone in her shared room with Emily as the girl discusses the exterminations with Sera. She wasn’t sure if Emily knew about her knowing, but considering how close she is with Adam and Lute, it wouldn’t be hard to piece together.

“Did you know?” Emily’s voice appears out of nowhere, it looked as if she had been crying, and Y/N didn’t have the heart to keep lying to her.

“I did” She says quietly, wrapping her wings around her body “I’ve known for a while” She confesses, looking down to avoid looking Emily in the eyes “You knew they were killing innocent human souls, and you didn’t tell me?” The heart break on Emily’s voice was undeniable. She was rightfully upset with Y/N.

“Seraphim’s mate for life, the first thing I told you about me is that I value honesty. Yet for however long, you’ve been lying to me.” Emily states, the heartbreak being replaced by anger “I wasn’t allowed to, I didn’t want to be the reason you fell.” Y/N admits, tears welling in her eyes as she finally looks up to look at Emily

“You were so happy when you found out that you could show sinners around, how could I tell you that the only reason they came is because my friends were murdering their people?” Y/N chokes out, tightening her wings around her as Emily stands tall

“By being honest, by not allowing them to hurt those souls!” Emily exclaims, throwing her arms out in anger “It’s my job to protect you, Emily! Sera said keeping this from you was exactly that.” Y/N tearfully exclaims, standing up from the bed

“You would have been devastated if I were to tell you as soon as I found out, you would have fallen like Lucifer.” Y/N continues to rant as tears flow down her face “And it would have been my fault! Not Adam’s, not Lutes, mine!” The girl finishes defeatedly, wiping her tears away

“I should have told you, and I’m sorry I didn’t but I’m not sorry for doing what I thought was best for you.” Y/N concludes, breathing heavily as Emily lets out a sigh “You don’t need to protect me from everything, Y/N” She says softly, stepping closer to her partner before taking her hand in hers

“I’m sorry” Is all Y/N says before she’s pulled into a tight hug from Emily “You are such an idiot, but I understand.” The girl mutters as Y/N wraps her arms around the taller girl, desperate to just feel her.

“I don’t deserve you” She mumbles into the seraphim’s neck, tightening her arms around Emily who shakes her head softly

“No, you deserve the world.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel oneshots #emily x reader #emily hazbin hotel #if you look close enough there’s adam x lute

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shizukateal · 6 months ago

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Hey, I want to ask you something because I'm in somewhat of an impasse. It's about magical girl fashion. To start at the beginning, I'm planning to design magical girl costumes/clothing for characters from a piece of media. My main struggle is, how to make the costumes visibly a magical form while also retaining its practicality. These characters move around a lot during battle and in general, and even the ones who use ranged weaponry do get to have their one-on-one fight occasionally when fighting enemies. So how do I design a magical girl costume, without sacrificing personality and 'fanciness', so to speak...while also being practical so that there'd be few things for an enemy to potentially grab or things to get stuck somewhere?

The key is always verisimilitude in movement and weight. You don't have to be perfectly grounded in what's practical for the form of combat your character takes, you just have to make something that seems like it at least wouldn't get in their way and which compliments them stylistically.

For a concrete exercise recommendation I give you this: draw your characters in different action poses, with as much range of motion as their fighting style allows. Put the clothes and hair on them. Now, if you find an element in the design that seems to be impractical, ask yourself before deleting it "how much and how consistently can I cheat the physics of this element to make it work with this fighting style?".

Take Batman's cape for example. In real life that would be impractical as all hell (Edna Mode's rant and all), especially since Batman primarily uses martial arts, but the illustrators and animators "cheat" by making it flow in a way that doesn't get in the way of him throwing punches and kicks. If Batman is fighting mano a mano the cape stays neatly behind his back and only the bottom moves a bit without ever turning front. Enemies conveniently avoid grabbing him by it and on the off chance they go for that option then he'll overpower them and use their grip against them. If he's dodging or stalking then suddenly the material is more floaty or almost liquid. If he does a big dramatic jump then the cape will perfectly retain its wing shape mid air for as long as it's needed to really imprint the fact that yes, indeed, he does look like a bat. What's important is that you're never really asking yourself how much Batman's cape weights, even if you understand that it's not realistic. You know that the cape will be more stiff around his torso and shoulders and more loose at the bottom, you get how those differences interact to make the whole, and you also get that sometimes the whole will become a bit stiffer if it's for the sake of maintaining a cool pose. So as long as the cape moves consistently with that in mind no one will give a fuck that it doesn't snag on everything around it.

However, this also means that there's a limit to how acrobatically Batman moves, unlike the robins, because there are only so many ways you can stylize that movement before you break the verisimilitude of the physics involved. Can Batman do a cartwheel with a cape that moves like that? Yeah, sometimes, but to keep the stylization consistent the cape would need to move so slow that it would strain suspension of disbelief for him to do so all the time instead of dodging normally.

That's the "problem" (quotes because it is a matter of personal taste) I have with most modern Precure outfits. Good or bad, the dresses are so charged and the hairstyles so big that the animators can't really move those elements in a way that compliments their fighting style of big jumps, punches and kicks. You try to pose them for a generic jab and you have to contend with both their massive skirts not getting in the way of their stance and their hair not whipping around in a way that would unbalance them, and the result ends up feeling way too artificial because everything has to remain unnaturally frozen in place for it to work. Oops!

But ok, those are practical concerns, what about choosing the stylization itself? Well, movement can still help us a lot on that area.

Let me be predictable as I turn your eyes towards the Holy Quintet once more. First let's focus on Sayaka Miki, who also has an overdramatic cape.

As we can see in this gif above, Sayaka's cape is constantly flaming, not only in the sense of how it moves but in the shape it most consistently retains, always coming from the focalized point of her neck. This loose application of physics makes it move wherever it would help her silhouette look more impactful aided by the short hair not presenting the usual competition that would be present on other magical girls (looking at you Cure Sky), although of course it can stay still and quietly cascading when it's stylish. But even beyond that the movement of the cape matches a consistent motif in how Sayaka moves within her fighting style and what that means in the context of her aesthetic. If you rewatch the show or most of her transformation sequences you'll notice that Sayaka tends to swoop into to or dive into the action. Of the Holy Quintet she's the one who seems to run the fastest and usually in a straight line, because that's what she is: heroic and straightforward.

Now let's make a broader comparison with the 5 members of the team.

Naoko Yamada from Kyoto Animation fame has said that you can tell a lot about a girl from her legs and in this case she's right. Starting from the left, Kyoko has thigh-highs and pirate boots that cinch below the knee, and along her skirt her legs are framed by her long-coat. Her weapon is a spear, a weapon that requires a stance that must be solid but still quick enough to shift, so the weight of her outfit is focused downwards while her shoulders are exposed for mobility but her arms and especially her wrists are protected, and her big ponytail balances the whole thing. Sayaka runs fast and she sword fights, so she's covered in most of the same areas as Kyoko since she needs a similar balance of stance and mobility, but the weight is put more around her torso so she can run more freely and the cape frames her arms instead of her legs, because her sword serves mostly to slash and so her arms will move more stiffly than Kyoko's. It's another genius way to show they're foils.

Mami has very long, stylish guns and uses her ribbons as vines to move around. Stance also matters in her case, but not in the same way as the previous two. She doesn't need to keep standing on her feet, she needs to move around more freely and even crouch or kneel at times, so her boots are very form-fitting, but there's still some ease and looseness with her absolute territory. And since pointing a gun requires a stable grip and quick reflexes on the fingers her arms are heavier and her gloves are finger-less. But beyond all of those practical concerns you'll notice that she's very very fond of twirling around, whether standing on the ground or in mid-jump, so it's important to her that her skirt has that furls and unfurls like a blossoming flower.

Homura's legs are very highlighted. Unlike Mami who jumps around in her loose skirt doing somersaults an adds unnecessary frills to her movements Homura is efficient. Precise. Practically a rectangle. Her stocking-boots protect her whole legs and keep them compressed and strong without sacrificing much mobility were it not for her very high and thin stilettos. There's a limit to how quick she can run in those things before making her run cycle look kinda stupid, so instead her focus is to do as much as she can with the least amount of movements possible. She elegantly falls feet-first and poses into action, her hair moving most of all in a similar manner to Sayaka's cape. When she's Moemura, however, her braids flop clumsily like oversized ears on a puppy. She'll look good with a big gun like Mami since her silhouette is so subdued, but since her specialty are bombs and short guns her uniform calls more attention to her hands.

And last but not least we have Madoka. Constantly perched on her rounded tippy-toes due to her high heels, with bunched up shoulders and dainty gloves that call attention to her wrists. Her outfit is designed to highlight her Girly Run. Kyoko flails her arms, Sayaka dives, Mami twirls, Homura glides and Madoka bounces around, hence her buoyant tutu. But she's also an archer. Now, would a real archer wear those dainty, frilly, white tea-time gloves? Haha, no. But that doesn't change the fact that gloves are a useful thing for an archer to wear. It's credible enough and it fits her style, so why not add it?

Please note however that I'm not saying the Holy Quintet's outfits are the only way to handle their respective fighting and movement styles. Rather, I'm trying to teach you how the elements they use compliment them so you can analyze what you want to achieve and start looking for solutions from there. Here, let's make a comparison between characters with the same core idea and what the subtle differences in their executions tell us about them.

Now, why would two catgirl magical girls both wear round-toed, tight boots that highlight their knees? Well, because cat's hind legs are one big feet up to the knee is why. And if you're gonna stand in all fours then might as well add some gloves for protection. Then add a puffy skirt for bounce and dessert theming and voilá, jumpy acrobatic cat. If anything, however, I'd say Mew Ichigo's fit is better movility-wise, because her bob is lighter and less obstructive, her skirt and boots allow for more range of motion, and her gloves look thicker and more resistant. But both work well for their purposes, it's just that Ichigo is built more around the agility of a cat and Macaron around its elegance.

Then we have Cat Noir, who has 3 ways of moving: his acrobatics -similar to Ichigo-, his bo-staff, and his cataclysm. Notice that his joints stick out from his otherwise form-fitting literal catsuit. This is because he puts even more of his weight into those than the previous two. Ichigo mostly jumps catlike with her legs straight, but Chat crouches and stalks and climbs and slashes with his claws, and sometimes I think he even uses his bo-staff to fence like a rapier. He may be the most practical out of the 3, but on the other hand notice that his feet seem the heaviest both because of how highlighted they are and because the boots seem steel-toed. Chat can contort into positions the other two won't, but he'll likely do less somersault twirls than them because it feels like his feet are too heavy for that. If his tail belt was more alive like an actual tail, however, we might have a different story, because that would provide a counterbalance to the heaviness of the shoes and it could move in a similar way to a skirt.

One last example and I'll be over.

So, I watched The Mandalorian (pirated so that Disney can't legally kill my spouse), and at the end of the first season they give the main character a jet pack. Now, it's important to this character that he wears a long cape because he's brooding and questant and mysterious but with a strict code of conduct and so his pastiche of archetypes includes looking like a crusader knight. So you'd think that getting a jetpack would make him ditch the cape since it's a fire hazard, but no, not quite. Instead he simply gathers it over one of his shoulders, and since the flame of the jetpack is small, so long as the end of the cape doesn't move around to wildly you barely notice that it's there at all. Is it improbable that the whole thing doesn't catch fire? Absolutely. Does it work anyways? Yes!

In conclusion? Find ways to cheat physics. But find them! Don't just stare at your first draft expecting it to do the work for you!

#magical girl fashion #character design #holy quintet #pmmm #batman #the mandalorian #tokyo mew mew #miraculous ladybug #precure a la mode

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