#thread:oliver

[blindspct]

closed starter for @itsrogersandco ft. oliver & aoife!!

oliver meant it when he mentioned that he was going to try harder. he thought she deserved that much. after all, she'd been by his side through thick and thin. what kind of husband would he be if he didn't give aoife his all? he was seated by the pool of their vacation home, a glass of wine in his hand. "dinner was amazing, as always." he paused to take a proper sip. "i can't remember the last time we actually sat down and ate together." that was his fault though and he knew that. "what do you think about a night swim once we digest a little bit, hm?"

[blindspct]

oliver hated seeing her life this and he knew even before she started crying that she was upset. his forehead leaned against hers for a moment, hands sliding down to cup her neck. "i know. i hate him too," he sighed, pulling back so that his eyes met hers. "what did he do back then? what did he do to you?"

Aoife strode confidentally out of the hall and out the building, not aware of just how much Oliver was holding her up. It wasn't until he stopped and placed his hands on her face that the adrenaline left her body and she began to cry. Tears of anger and relief streamed down her face and she pushed her face against his shoulder as her body began to shake. "I hate him so much," she muttered. "Fucking ass, what did I ever see in him?"

[savingthisforwaaaaylater-blog]

IN THE MIDDLE OF MY DARKEST HOUR ► IRIS/OLIVER

LOCATION: Central City, alleyway in the middle of fucking nowhere, probably.

TIME FRAME: Some time after 2 AM.

No, Central City was not, by far, scarier than Gotham under the thick veil of the night. 

On the contrary -- it was far more lively. Instead of the streets whispering coquettish lies, drawing her in with promises of all that can make her beautiful and happy only to deliver despair and distraught, Central City opened its arms quietly, welcomed her with no promises, but with mere sights that spoke to her in small tones, leading the way to what she sought. 

Tonight, although no different at the start, Central City began transforming monstrously into something like Gotham, the further south she walked. The people were becoming scarce, the buildings that so spoke to her were suddenly silent, the brightness of the city dimming and fading behind her as every step she took lead her further and further into a part of the city she'd never seen before -- a part of the city that made her skin crawl, throat close, stomach churn. But the fear that began curling at her toes and begged her skin to quiver was swallowed down by pure resolve and determination: she had a destination to arrive to, and Iris West was no flake. 

Earlier in the day, when the sun was still up and the city still friendly, Iris had received a cryptic message in her inbox -- unsurprisingly, for all Iris ever receives in her inbox are cryptic messages, from multiple sources attempting to conceal their identity and cleverly trying to set up meeting times and places. Iris knows which messages to fish out; silly teenagers trying to get back at an enemy (or even a friend, sometimes), mentally unstable men swearing on their dead mother's graves about conspiracy theories from the White House -- Iris rarely ever trusted new sources,  because more often than not, they proved to be useless, and she had enough connections as it was: all around the world, one man or one woman for everything she needed, every story she sniffed out, every lead she followed; she was resourceful, and she had her father to thank for that. It was something, she knew, Lois liked about her: and Iris, always one to help find the truth (and not the extensive theories Lois Lane liked to come up with most of the time), was happy to direct her to her sources.

But this message; this one was different. It was from an ongoing -- and new, of all things, new -- source, one that had discovered Iris's off the book investigation and jumped in: I'll help, they'd said at first, and nothing else. It took little to peak Iris's intrigue, if done the right way, so she'd responded -- with what? The source replied with nothing but a blank message, and several file attachments, which, upon inspection, Iris realized were blueprints. Not -- not entire blueprints, but bits and pieces of some, almost as if they'd been torn apart and recovered by someone who'd been in the presence of said event. They made little sense to Iris, but one thing did manage to catch her eye, if nothing else--

In one devastatingly wrinkled corner, where the scanner had obviously drawn a too-sharp line, in small, capitalized letters, it read: © EOBARD THAWNE.

And wasn't that just what she needed.

The backstory of it was this: Iris's skin had always crawled at the thought and presence of Eobard Thawne. Though the man was much older than her, and proved to be much less wiser in some instances, his romantic advances towards her were -- well, bold, to say the least and to put it mildly. There had been times, in fact, where Iris had snapped on live television, as Eobard attempted to subtly place his hand atop Iris's own, or even, if he was feeling especially perverted, on her thigh. Whereas with other men, refusing advances was simple to Iris (one long-winded speech about sexism from her and they were usually very much over her and stepped back for good), with Eobard, it was almost impossible. No matter how hard she'd try, Eobard would always whisper to her that she was special, that he could show her so much more, if she'd only let him.

Others would simply believe Eobard was having delusions of grandeur, or that he was simply a very colorful man, with age rotting away his brain. Iris, however, knew better -- she trusted nothing if not her gut, and every offhand comment made to her by Eobard was always hiding a double entendre, whether or not anyone else decided to see it. So, as usual, Iris gave into her prying nature, and began looking further into Thawne's past, which was -- well, it was brief, to say the least. Almost as if a part of his life had seized to exist: like he jumped a few years into the future, disappeared, left nothing behind in the wake. It wasn't normal -- no matter how much digging Iris did (contacted the best of the best, because she knew the best of the best, then contacted the better of the best), only one thing about Eobard Thawne was certain: he was hiding something, and whatever it was, he was hiding it well.

So the e-mail she'd received had been a blessing in disguise; before that, all she'd been able to receive were coordinates, which, when placed on a map, lead to nowhere other than the ocean, no speck of what could be land to be seen. Perhaps they'd been wrong, she thought, but before she could send the coordinates off to the one man in Japan that could figure it out, the e-mail came in, and she'd forgotten all about them. And this started a ripple: every week, she'd receive more intel, ranging from small, unintelligible messages ("Over twenty years ago") to larger attachment of files, usually more parts of the ripped blue prints -- that were somehow -- they almost looked like--

And she couldn't put her finger on it, not without a shiver running through her spine. Because it could be anything, really: but then the latest message came, and her mystery source decided it was finally time they met in person: it was finally time she heard the whole story, because time was running out.

Which is what lead her to where she was now: the darkest part of Central City, if she'd been following the directions to a tee, now in the middle of an alleyway, smelling of dead rats and cat piss, the only sound the dripping of water somewhere behind her, unnoticeable to her eyes. She cleared her throat, forced her heart to stop racing (it was so very loud, in the quiet of the alleyway, in the silence of the night). "Hello?" She called out, swallowing thickly and fiddling with a small pocket knife in her back pocket (gifted to her by her brother, who said he hoped she'd never have to use it -- and she hoped so, too). "TimeLeft?" Her voice was quiet, but sounded loud and foreign out in the open as she called her mystery source out by his electronic screen name. "Iris West."

"Yes." The word was drawn out, the voice icy and thin from somewhere in front of her -- she first saw the man's eyes, an icy blue stare, before she noticed the smirk as he stepped into Iris's view, body thin but swift. "I wasn't sure if you'd come." A snake. That's what Iris was reminded of. The man spoke like a snake would -- drawing out every possibly syllable, voice taunting and condescending, turning her blood into ice, skin into stone. 

"I'm here," she forced her voice steady, begged her pounding heart to quiet. She took an unnoticeable step back, hand still stroking the pocket knife. "Say what you need to say and let's get it over with."

"But where, my dame, is the fun in that?" The man hissed with glee that was fearful, almost damned, almost--evil, if Iris could go so far with an adjective. Pure, unadulterated evil. "We have all the time in the world."

Her breath hitched -- not at his words, for they held no meaning to Iris, but at the sudden sight of more men reaching from the shadows. Just as lithe as the first one, just as cunning, with identical smirks etched upon their lips and the same icy, cold gaze. Almost -- almost identical, if it weren't for the defining color of their hair, they could be twins, triplets -- there were four more, quintuplets. 

And Iris wasn't dense -- she knew exactly what was happening now. This was a set-up if she'd ever seen one, and one that wouldn't end with laughing teenagers or interned mentally unstable men: there was only one outcome to this, and Iris wasn't walking out of it -- not alive, anyway.

Her one thought, ironically enough, was how angry she was she wouldn't be able to report her own death.

She drew the small pocket knife swiftly, sure it would do little to stop them, but acting on instinct anyway. "I suggest you stay back," she spat, feigning bravery in the midst of pure fear. "I'm not below stabbing multiple times."

The five men laughed -- identically -- icing Iris to the core, locking her feet to the their place on the ground, and before they came nearer, they spoke to one another as if Iris was no longer in their presence, no longer a threat to their existence (which, if she was being honest with herself, she never was). "He said not to hurt her too much -- just scare her enough so that she backs off," the man she'd seen first hummed with mirth. To his left, the other man's eyes shone with amusement. 

"We're not going to listen to him, are we?" he hissed, drawing closer and closer to Iris, enclosing her against the alleyway's cold, brick wall. "She's already seen too much."

"Of course not," the man to the far right spat. "But she should know why she's dying."

And she closed her eyes, and she didn't dare breathe -- they asked her, then, if she wasn't going to scream as she felt one hand take the knife from her own and another hand stroke her hair, softly and disgustingly. She didn't grant them an answer -- if she was going to die, tonight, she was going to die with dignity. She wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of hearing her scream, or writhe, or struggle. Iris West wasn't going to let them have fun with this; she was going down the way she'd always lived: knowing the truth, and standing still with it.

Her eyes remained closed as she felt a hand wrap around her throat forcefully, and words were being spoken that she couldn't register, and she thought about Wally, she thought about Barry, she thought about her parents and her siblings and she cursed Eobard Thawne's name, cursed it over and over and over as her breath began to escape her lungs, feeling the ground escape her feet and her chest burn, burn, burn, waiting to erupt.

[radicaloptimismsposts]

Oliver simply watched her without a care in the world. There was nothing he wanted more than to be simply with her. That was what mattered to him the most and what he cared about the most. He looked into her eyes longingly for some time before taking a deep breath as he heard her words. That was what made him pause for a moment as he tried to think things through before finally responding to her. "Nothing much really. I was thinking of heading to the bar having a few drinks and maybe find some beautiful woman to hook up with. And it's alright. You aren't interrupting me in anyway." He found himself saying to her with a warm smile. He then paused for a moment before responding to her again. "And what about you? What are your plans for tonight?" He asked her as his eyes fell on her lips for a moment.

The silence that filled the room didn't seem to bother her, in fact, it was almost comforting to just be able to exist in a room with someone and not have to speak if it didn't feel necessary. When she was sharing space with him her brain wasn't running a billion miles an hour thinking of what would come next, she could just genuinely enjoy the moment at hand. Much like when she was in the moment singing her songs. As he sat beside her she smiled, feeling goosebumps form on her skin as his hand rested on her thigh. "Perfect," Astraea replied, unconsciously licking her lips as she found herself leaning against him gently. "Well, what did you have planned for this evening? I would hate to throw your plans entirely out the window." And she could happily sit here in his presence without a care.

[blindspct]

WHO: oliver mcmahon. pansexual. casino owner. matt bomer fc. OPEN TO: anyone 30+ PLOT: oliver's tired and frustrated, and your muse presses him a bit too hard

he shook his head and leaned up from his position against the counter, "i am not going to sit here and defend myself when i haven't done anything wrong," oliver paused and moved to walk past his partner, "so, i worked late. what's the big deal? i've never given you a reason not to trust me." and it's not like he had a typical nine to five job. the casino kept him busy at all hours of the day. glancing over his shoulder to look at them, "and if you can't trust me then i'd say maybe this is a good time to realize that we shouldn't be together."

[blindspct]

closed starter for @lostrnkets ft. oliver & tatum

oliver always hired local when it came to his company. whether it was maintenance, an exterminator, or advertisement, he wanted to share his wealth with people in his community and help their business as they did with his. so, it was no surprise that oliver hired tatum, especially once he saw her work. she was good at capturing the moments and that's what he wanted for his website. looking up as he heard a knock at his door, he smiled at the sight of the woman. "catch some good ones?" the man questioned with a tilt of his head. "i'd like to see some of them before you go, if that's alright. now, do you prefer cash or check? i can do either and i'd like to pay you now before i forget. i don't want you thinking your time wasn't appreciated."

[radicaloptimismsposts]

Oliver had been enamoured by her from the moment they first met each other. He still remembered the day he first met his mom's best friend after coming back from college. From the moment he met her he was taken aback by her beauty and her figure. She looked like she was nothing short of a goddess and certainly looked like she was heaven on earth. The male always had a weakness for older women. Even back in college he had a thing for his professors and often flirted with them. This wasn't any different from that.

At first he would only engage in ideal conversations with her. Just checking in on her and asking her about her day and what not. He had also made certain to be perceptive and always helped her out whenever she needed any help. He was always there for and that was how he had made a place for himself around her. His eyes were often on here though making certain to check her out. As he admired her fiery red hair and her plump lips to her perky breasts. And on more than one occasion he had felt her eyes on him. It always made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Now that they were alone today with his mom away on vacation he felt this was the best opportunity he was going to get. So Oliver decided to try and seize the moment and kiss her. But unfortunately it didn't go for long as he was stopped in his tracks by her.

For a moment Oliver looked at her in slight surprise as he was certain she wanted this as much as he did. And then he heard her words and despite everything he had a faint smile on his face. "Hey come on now. We are both adults here and yes you are older than me but I don't see that mattering much. You are smart and beautiful and simply the most amazing woman I have ever met. From the day we met I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. And despite the differences in our ages I want you as much as every living being wants oxygen to breath. And I have a strong feeling you want me too." He whispered those last words as he found himself leaning in towards her again.

open to males muse: amy gilmore (jessica chastain) 38-48 plot: based on this (basically just younger guy after older woman) connections: neighbor / best friend's son / son's best friend / boyfriend's son / assistant (open to suggestions) -

Amy felt the air shift the moment he leaned in, his warm breath and a flicker of daring in his eyes, along with the subtle hesitation that asked for permission without a word. Her heart stuttered. God, she wanted to feel his mouth on hers, to stop pretending she hadn’t been watching the way his lips moved when he talked. But just as he leaned in to close the distance, she grabbed him by the chin, halting him from coming any closer. “Hey now, you're starting to push it, mister,” she scolded lightly, trying to hide the fact that he nearly caught her off guard. “It's starting to become obvious that you're too young to know why this is a bad idea."

How Amy had found herself in this situation, she'd never quite know. The two of them were alone, and that fact had caused things to escalate far too quickly. She needed to nip this in the bud now. "Darling, I'm far too old for you."

[radicaloptimismsposts]

Oliver found himself face to face with her once she opened the door. He was wearing denim jeans and a jacket and shirt. His jacket was made out of leather. When he had told he had to arrive at the farm and help out working there for some time he certainly hadn't expected that to happen anytime soon. He hated the idea of having to come here and work in a stupid farm. This was the last thing he would have ever wanted. Though he certainly hadn't expected a beautiful woman standing face to face with him. She was apparently the owner of the farm and whom he would be working with closely. She was certainly more beautiful than he would have expected. Hearing her words he looked down his clothes for a moment in confusion before he turned his attention towards her again. "What's so wrong about my clothes?" He found himself asking for a moment.

⸻ ✧ muse: savannah lambert. 32. rancher. ⸻ ✧ open to: all ⸻ ✧ context: a troubled rich girl/boy gets sent to a small town in the middle of nowhere to work on a farm by their parents in the hope it will keep them out of trouble.

"Hello darlin'," she drawled as she opened the door, brow arching when she spotted the person standing on her porch. "No offense, but you don't quite look like you're ready to be workin' outdoors."

[blindspct]

oliver was sure that he was going to be able to trust the woman to advertise his business in the way he wanted to. after all, he had researched her work before he'd even hired her. she was talented and he was excited to see what she'd captured. he gave the woman a nod and gave her some time to connect everything, "noted. i'll make sure you're taken care of. now, for those pictures. excuse me if i'm a little impatient. i'm just ready to see what you've captured." he admitted with a light chuckle.

to say that tatum was absolutely in love with her job was an understatement, it never felt like work to her especially once she found herself in the full on zone with it. glancing over the photos she already took with much satisfaction for what she captured - confident that he would be able to find more than one photo that would fit the criteria he was seeking for to begin with. "oh, yeah! they turned out incredible. i'm totally excited for you to see them. let me get my laptop set up and connect everything so you have a bigger screen to view them on." she said softly, gathering her things out onto the counter as she quickly connected many cords to the computer. it was something she had done countless times. "either payment method is fine. entirely up to you."

[blindspct]

this wasn't a situation that he ever thought he'd land himself in. one, because he never ever allowed himself to fall in love with his victims and two, he never got caught. he had never considered that either of those things would happen and now that they had, he didn't know what to say or do to fix things. the options she gave him weren't things he wanted to do, especially when there was no guarantee that she was still going to want him at the end of the day. he liked taking risks but not risks that would end up in him getting hurt. "i'm still me. i've been me the entire time, despite the things i did to betray you." he explained, eyes watching her. he had really hurt someone he managed to fall in love with. how could he be so stupid? "you ahould choose me because i'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. i know i fucked up. i know i hurt you but this is all i've ever known. i-" he never had anyone but himself, "i'll do whatever you need me to do." but finally, he needed someone by his side.

"How am I supposed to trust you when the foundation of our relationship is built on lies. Of course you fell for me Zach, I was being honest with you the whole time." Harriet felt like there was no good choice for her to make in this situation. "Meanwhile I'm questioning where the lies stopped. Wondering if I fell in love with a facade of a person and wouldn't love the true you. This is impossible." She exclaimed placing her face in her hands breathing deeply as she considered her options. "I'm worried that if I choose you, I won't feel the same when I start learning your true character. Not to mention I would probably lose my family in the process. So why should I choose you Zach and don't tell me it's because you care about me. If you really want me you have to win me all over again. You can start by apologizing to my father and my entire family. Can you do that, are you man enough to take responsibility for your actions? Which I still don't understand why." Harriet is exasperated as she lays back into the couch staring at him blankly.

[blindspct]

there was absolutely no way that oliver wasn't going to let something happen to his wife, especially when it came to a creep like that. "i fucking warned you. don't you ever come near my wife again. a matter of fact, don't even look at her." he growled, his arm coming around aoife's waist as he led her away from the man. the anger melted from his face once they made it outside and he stopped to cup her face. his eyes found hers, "are you okay?"

Aoife tried to get past Dan, shaking at his words and his proximity to her. He was much bigger and stronger that she was and if he chose to act then there was little she could do to stop him. The way he had blocked her in she couldn't see past him so it wasn't until Oliver's hand moved that she realised he was there. Relief flooded her body and she reached for her husband as Dan crumpled to the floor. "You'll leave us both the fuck alone or next time I'll press charges," Aoife warned the man as he clutched his nose. Reaching for Oliver's hand Aoife tugged him towards the car, "Let's go home. I've had more than enough of him."

[blindspct]

he was sure that the conversation wasn't really one that aoife wanted to have but he wanted to know what the man had managed to put her through. whatever it was clearly bothered her and he wanted to give her some sort of support. `he stood by the bar as she parted from him and waited for his wife to meet up with him so that the two of them could go home. after a few moments, he got worried and went looking for her. his eyes caught a glance of him cornering her once again and this time he wasn't holding back. storming over to the man, he tapped him on the shoulder. as soon as he looked at him, he swung and punched him right in the nose. "i told you to leave my wife the fuck alone."

Aoife shivered as Oliver wanted to talk about her ex on the journey home. She did not want to give any more thought to the past. "I'll just say goodbye to my aunt," Aoife replied as she picked up her purse and walked away. She spoke to her aunt and then decided to head to the restroom before they travelled home. As Aoife stepped back out of the bathroom she ran right into Dan again.

"I forgot you like it rough baby," Dan purred at Aoife. "If you are that keen we can head back into the restroom and you can show me how you want it."

[blindspct]

oliver couldn't help but want to beat the hell out of the guy but he knew that wasn't the appropriate action considering where they were and so, for his wife's sake he held back. "i'm glad you can too." he breathed out and placed a kiss against her forehead. "'course we can. why don't you tell me more about why the two of you broke up on the way home, hm? i'm curious to know what this asshole did to you."

"I know," she assured him. "I just had a vivd flashback to when he and I were together and why we broke up." Aoife leaned her head on his shoulder, her body still trembling slightly. "He thinks it's ok because he's an absolute jerk. I don't know what I ever saw in him but I'm glad I can see through his crap now." Turning her head to look more at Oliver, Aoife muttered, "Can we go home now? I just want to be alone with you again."

[blindspct]

the last thing that he wanted was to come off as a jerk but he hated seeing another man with his hands on his wife. things had gone so well between the two of them that he didn't want anything else to ruin it. his arms came around her without a second thought and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "i'm not upset with you. you know that right? i just want you to be okay." his hand rubbed over her back, "i don't know why he thought that it was okay to come up to you like that." he huffed out.

Once back in Oliver's arms Aoife was still tense and stood still and rigid until Dan walked away. She barely even registered the kiss from her husband until her ex was well away from her. Turning to face Oliver at his question she felt her eyes begin to water and her body began to tremble. Without saying anything she pushed herself close to him, her head resting on his chest as she shivered. "I'm alright," she muttered after a moment but she made no move to stand back up by herself, bitterly regretting ever challenging Oliver about the way he had spoken to Dan. "I'm sorry."

[blindspct]

oliver wasn't at all trying to be a jerk but he was protective of the woman he loved and he didn't like seeing other guys with their hands on his wife. this time around, it didn't seem to bother he as much when he stepped in and maybe it was because he did what he could in order to save her and to not cause a scene. his arm shifted around her waist, a glare shot in the other's direction before his face softened as he looked down at aoife. "i'd love to keep you company." he reassured and placed a loving kissing on top of her head. as the other finally walked away from the two of them, he sighed. "he didn't hurt you did he?"

Aoife began to wriggle from Dan's grasp, both because she knew Oliver would get annoyed but also because she did not appreciate the way he felt he could touch her in such a way. Her heart sank as he asked her to dance because she knew he had a temper and she didn't want to cause him to overreact but she was internally panicking over what to do. However before she had to do anything she heard her husband's voice and it had never sounded as fabulous.

"Darling," Aoife gasped, turning towards her husband with a huge smile as she was pulled towards him. "There's a bit of a queue for drinks but you can definitely keep me company." Turning to Dan she shook her head, "It was nice to see you but I am sure you have plenty of other people to talk to so goodbye."

[blindspct]

oliver had seemingly forgotten about everything that had happened between the two of them, at least as far as the run in with her ex went. he was talking to a member of her family, laughing as she seemed to be having fun with her cousins on the dancefloor. after a little while, he seemed to have lost sight of her. only for a few moments and that's when he saw the other man shooting his shot once again. frustration and jealousy filled his body before he made his way over to the two of them. he knew it had nothing to do with wife and everything to do with her ex. he gritted his teeth, glaring at the man. "i hope you don't mind if i step in." he grumbled and grabbed his wife's hand before tugging her against him protectively.

"I do know," Aoife agreed easily as her arms settled around his neck and she began to sway to the music. "I love you too," she added, the words spoken against the shell of his ear as she moved against him with just the right amount of restraint for a family wedding.

As the evening progressed Aoife danced with Oliver but also her cousins and other distant family. She was relaxed and happy and enjoying the champagne that flowed and any earlier tension has eased away. Leaving Oliver talking to her uncle Aoife made her way over to the bar and stood patiently waiting to be served. "Those hips don't lie," a deep voice whispered in her ear and she jumped as she felt a hand land on her hip urging her to move them.

"You know I'm married. There are plenty of woman who would indulge you here," Aoife replied firmly as she brushed his hand away from her. However Dan was not easily swayed and both hands quickly returned to her hips.

"Just one little dance for me, for old times sake," he pleaded.