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strangererotica · 5 months ago

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SOAKED 𓇢𓆸

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Summary: After Reader is stranded by a carriage mishap, she finds herself lost in an attempt to make her way home alone. Luckily for her, another carriage happens to cross her path, belonging to none other than the Viscount Bridgerton himself…

In keeping with Bridgerton’s vibe, Reader is a young woman with zero sexual knowledge or experience. I imagine she’s around nineteen or twenty years old and while she has had suitors, none of them have inspired in her the feelings Lord Bridgerton evokes…

While enjoying your evening ride, your carriage had broken down. To the great frustration of your driver, you’d insisted on walking home alone. It wasn’t in good taste, for a young woman to be out walking unattended. But you were in an exploring mood, and wanted to do your exploring alone. The company of your carriage driver was something you were honestly glad to be rid of.

Despite being reasonably close to town, you’d somehow managed to wander in the direction of the forest rather than home. Night was creeping closer, trees casting shadows across your path as you looked up at the sky, trying to find your bearings.

A large, cold drop of rain ‘plopped’ against your forehead, making you flinch. Several subsequent drops followed, till the situation quickly became a downpour. You raced for shelter beneath the trees, cursing under your breath as your ankle twisted on a large root sticking up from the ground. The trees were basically useless at shielding you from the rain, Autumn having stripped their branches almost entirely of leaves.

Your hat was soaked, its brim flattened against the sides of your head. The pretty dress you’d chosen to wear that afternoon was now caked with mud at the trim; you realized you must look incredibly foolish right now, but certainly not as foolish as you felt.

The sound of horses’ hooves approaching caught your attention. You looked down the road to see a carriage drawing closer, rain bouncing from its roof and sides. When the carriage came to a stop just by you, a stab of panic shot through your chest. What if it was someone you knew, discovering you out here looking a complete mess? And even worse, what if the carriage belonged to a man?

The carriage came to a full stop; the door swung open, and the handsome, familiar face of Anthony Bridgerton emerged. Your heart thumped inside your chest as his jet eyes raked over you, a mischievous smirk turning his lips upward. “Unusual night for a walk, Miss (Y/N),” he remarked, his tone playful.

Despite your embarrassment and the wet state of your clothing, you attempted a curtsy. “Indeed it is, Lord Bridgerton,” you replied. “I was out for an evening ride, when my carriage broke down.�� You pointed past you, unsure of which direction you’d actually come from at this point.

“And your driver?” Anthony asked, seemingly unbothered by the rain pelting his hat and shoulders. “What of him? Am I to assume he left you unattended? At the-.” He bit his lip, running his eyes over your breasts, your nipples visible through the soaked material. “-Mercy of whomever should find you?” he finished.

You felt your cheeks going red, in spite of the chilly rain running down your skin. “It was my choice, I assure you,” you explained. “I insisted he allow me the chance to take some air, alone, on my journey home. I had not expected…” Your voice wavered, words failing you as Lord Bridgerton’s penetrating gaze made you weak.

“The rain?” he offered, an eyebrow lifted in amusement. “Understandable, Miss (Y/N). It seems I’ve found you absolutely drenched.” His eyes scanned your breasts and back up to your face.

Anthony tilted his head, acknowledging your ankle. You hadn’t noticed, but you’d been keeping your full weight off of it on purpose. “Your ankle,” he said, his tone sympathetic. “Is it sprained? You seem hesitant to apply pressure to it.”

“I twisted it on a raised root,” you explained. “It is not badly sprained. More of a discomfort, really-.”

“Regardless,” Lord Bridgerton interrupted. “Leaving you to manage on your own would be unconscionable. I insist-.” He extended his hand for you. “-That you allow me the honor of delivering you home.”

There was no way around it; you had to accept the offer. Taking a soggy step forward, you reached for Anthony’s hand and allowed him to help you into the carriage.

Immediately, you felt embarrassed by the way your wet clothes were dripping all over the carriage’s interior. The horses’ hooves sounded, followed by the familiar tug as the carriage was pulled forward. You could feel the Viscount’s gaze resting on you, but were too afraid to meet it. You’d harbored feelings for him for years, and had often wondered what it would feel like to have his attention fixed solely on you, to be the object of his interest. Now that you were in exactly such a situation, all of the practiced lines you’d rehearsed in your daydreams had completely vanished.

You pressed your thighs together, a familiar ache blossoming between them…a tightening, throbbing sensation similar to your heartbeat. You weren’t sure what it was, this odd pleasure mixed with pain; but you always felt it when you were in Lord Bridgerton’s presence, and sometimes, it occurred while simply thinking of him. You’d come to associate the feeling with Anthony, loving the sensation even as it frightened you. Not unlike your feelings for the Viscount himself.

“You needn’t worry about making a mess,” he remarked, and you froze. Because for a moment, you worried Anthony knew of what accompanied the feeling…the clear, slippery fluid that inevitably wound up wetting your inner thighs, whenever you thought of him.

He pointed to the seat across from him, which you were sitting on. Panic seized you, till you realized he was obviously speaking of the mess your rain-soaked clothing was making inside the carriage.

Your cheeks went rosy and warm again. Anthony noticed, and smiled slightly, as if holding onto a sweet secret that pleased him. “Upholstery can be mended,” he explained. “And on the subject of things that need mending…”

Anthony reached forward, taking hold of your injured ankle and lifting your foot to rest on his lap. Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise. What could he possibly be thinking, touching you in such an intimate way?

You watched his fingers as they gently undid the laces of your boot. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a wicked glimmer reflecting back at you. Anthony removed your boot, and delicately rolled the lace cuff of your sock downward, exposing your ankle. When his fingertips brushed your skin, the contact of his touch went straight to the aching space between your legs, as if a line were somehow connecting those parts of you.

A shiver ran through your body, your hips bucking as Anthony softly stroked your skin, coaxing his finger lower, till he was cradling your foot in his hand. Every subtle movement of his fingertips sent a flash of heat straight to your center, setting you ablaze with something you’d never felt before. The familiar throbbing between your legs was suddenly burning, the pleasure mixed with a pain that kept increasing, as if demanding some kind of release, though you didn’t know how to relieve it.

Anthony watched you with an unbearable intensity-could he not see that you were unwell?-his smile long departed and replaced with something darker, almost hungry, like the focus of a predator locked in on its prey. Your body jolted as if struck. Anthony observed your behavior in stoic silence-was he angry with you?-all the while continuing to delicately stroke your skin, as if he couldn’t see the way your body was completely overcome by his simple, tender ministrations. Tears burned behind your eyes as the ache within you throbbed harder and harder, pulsing in time with your racing heartbeat. You gripped the edge of your seat, your eyes squeezing shut, air leaving your body in gasps.

You realized you must have been dying…surely, there was no other way to explain this frenzy that had overtaken you. But just as you were sure you were dying…you were flying. The world went white in your field of vision, as the tension inside your lower body finally gave way. A brand new feeling, of absolute rapture and inexplicable bliss, pulsed at your core in waves, rippling and shattering its way through you. Relief washed over you, a light sheen of sweat covering your skin, chest heaving as you recovered from whatever beautiful, brutal attack your body had just endured.

Your eyes opened on Anthony, whose expression was even more intense than before. Certain that you’d upset him with your embarrassing fit, a sudden shame humbled you. “Forgive me, Lord Bridgerton,” you panted, tears welling in your eyes. “I am unwell. I do not know what came over me just now, but I must apologize for my intemperate behavior...”

Anthony’s expression softened, unlike his lap, which now felt stiff and uneven beneath your ankle. He cleared his throat, before assuring you that “everything is alright, (Y/N).” Hearing your name leave his lips, your first name and not your family name, was like hearing an angel speak. “You’ve done nothing wrong. And I promise, you are not unwell.” Lord Bridgerton’s eyebrow lifted slightly. “Quite the opposite, in fact,” he said.

“But-.” You watched as he rolled your sock back over your ankle. “-I must be ill, my Lord-.” Anthony slid your boot back over your foot. “-Or perhaps a demon momentarily seized hold of me-??” Anthony chuckled slightly, his eyes on the laces of your boot as he fixed them. “-I must rest,” you decided. “To make sure this doesn’t happen again...”

Anthony bit his lip and grinned. “Well,” he conceded. “Perhaps you’re right. Some time in bed might be just what you need…” Anthony leaned forward and took your hand in his. “…In case that frightful feeling returns.”

Your lips parted, his nearness an alarming reminder of the feeling he conjured within you, the aching pulse between your slippery thighs reigniting. “I…” You tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come, not with his hand holding yours, his lips so near to your skin-

-A rapping on the carriage lurched you from the trance you’d fallen in. You hadn’t even noticed that the carriage had stopped moving. A driver opened the door for you, offering his hand to help you out. “Thank you, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, exiting the carriage. “I’m so grateful for your assistance today.”

Anthony nodded politely, a warm smile on his face. “It was my pleasure, Miss (Y/N),” he said, and as you turned toward your home, “I’ll call on you later this week, to see how you’re recovering.”

You felt your heart rate kick up a notch. “…from your sprained ankle, Miss (Y/N),” Anthony clarified, though the suggestive glimmer in his eye implied otherwise. You watched as his carriage retreated, starting on unsteady legs into your home. Your dress was still soaked, wet with rain and something else…something only Anthony Bridgerton was able to conjure in you, the product of a secret it now seemed the two of you shared, together… 🩵

PART TWO

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thelostmagicians · 1 year ago

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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve

♡

The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about.

He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings.

So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship.

The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings.

“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart.

“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.

You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him.

But that was a year ago.

Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.

“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”

Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”

“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.

“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”

Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”

You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.

“Oh please you can’t be serious.”

You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home.

The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold.

You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.

You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug.

“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease.

Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down.

“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup.

She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside.

“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in.

Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”

“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”

“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”

You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”

Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”

“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself.

She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”

Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”

“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”

Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.

This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck.

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger.

You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”

Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit.

The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile.

Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something.

Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off.

“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.

Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.

You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”

Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait.

“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”

Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”

He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him.

They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere.

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strawberriesoup · 1 month ago

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umbrella٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A sudden storm causes your evening plans with Jisung to be canceled.

word count: 1.8k

genre: fluff/angst, jisung x female reader, established relationship, comfort

warnings: cursing, crying, reader has a hard time vocalizing her feelings, kisses, super fluffy, jisung is best boyfriend, hugs

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Normally, the slight pitter patter of rain tapping at your window wouldn’t bother you so much. The droplets racing down the glass were usually your cue to brew up some tea and clear your mind whilst watching the headlights of cars whoosh by on the street far below.

Right now your mind is anything but clear. You pull your hand away from the window, leaving a print of condensation behind as the chill in the air picks up, warning of the upcoming storm.

If nothing else, the weather instills in you a newfound hate for the weatherman and his deceitful games.

Why did everything have to go wrong? First your dinner plans with Jisung were canceled because of “renovations” and now this? The forecast predicts thunderstorms the rest of the day and through the night as well. The rain and your mood are getting worse by the minute.

You miss him. You just want to see him. Is that really too much to ask? But the universe— like always—has different plans.

It was about two months now since you had met Jisung. You had been thirsting over his best friend, Minho, and Jisung had stepped in as your wingman. Needless to say, you weren’t so interested in Minho anymore after getting to know Jisung.

Technically, you met him at a party — said party you had only attended to stalk Minho— so your first impressions of Jisung were understandably questionable. Come to find out later that his friend group forced him there and he’s actually just a cheesecake-loving homebody who’s afraid of pigeons (“Those damn birds know too much”) and likes the show Nana a little more than he probably should.

He’s cute as hell though.

Your couch squeaks as you throw yourself down on it. That stupid squeaking. It incites more violence in you than it probably should, and you take that as a sign to take a deep breath and try to think positively.

Unfortunately you just end up thinking of Jisung and how, if he were here, he would be able to cheer you up with one of his stupid jokes and that goddamn pretty smile. Ugh.

Should you call him? Would asking him to come over be too much? It was raining exponentially hard and he probably wouldn’t want to bother. There’s always another day. But still. Your mind is hyper-fixated on the thought of him, his presence, his laughter, the way his eyes seem to sparkle when he rants about his latest obsession…

Fuck this. You’ll just go over to his place.

By now, the downpour is in full swing and practically roaring against the side of the building, the sound blocking out even the rush of traffic building on the road below. You feel a chill run through your limbs at the thought of trekking through that mess with only your umbrella as a shield.

Through the clamor of the rain outside, you swear you hear a soft knocking. Are you imagining things? You must be. It was probably just thunder.

After a beat, you hear the knocking again. Louder this time.

Yeah, that was definitely your door. You jump up from the couch, heart leaping hopefully into your throat as you rush to unlock the door. It can’t be.

It was.

There stands Jisung, sporting a soaked umbrella, tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and a grin.

You must stare at him with an open mouth for longer than you thought because his brows furrow and he bursts out into a laugh.

“No ‘Hi Jisung’? No ‘Oh, how I missed you, I’m so glad you’re here Jisung’?”

He wraps his arms around you, his soaked umbrella thumping against your back. You return the hug tightly, coming back to your senses. He’s here! Wait, he’s actually here? The dots don’t seem to connect in your mind, but the arms around you, slowly rocking you back and forth in a warm embrace finally convince your stubborn mind that this is real.

“You came? But—“

“Yeah, duh! The rain’s pretty crazy isn’t it? Still sucks we couldn’t go to dinner, but look I brought snacks!”

He pulls away from you to shake the plastic convenience store bag in front of your face and sets it on the counter, the contents spilling out over the surface. All your favorite snacks. You feel tears prick at your eyes.

No. You are not going to cry right now. You clench your fists by your sides, trying to will the tears back into your skull. Unaware of your internal conflict, Jisung hums absentmindedly to himself while he shrugs off his drenched jacket and stows away his umbrella on the rack by the door.

“So what are we thinking?” Jisung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, “Youtube? Card game?” He turns his attention towards you. The second he sees you, his eyes widen in confusion. Are you okay? What happened?

Before he has a chance to ask anything, the dam cracks and you break down into tears.

He’s right there by your side, following you down to the floor and kneeling in front of you. He takes your hand between both of his own.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Can you tell me?” He speaks in such a soft tone, but the worry in his voice leaks through. It just makes you sob harder. You bury your face in your knees. Stop crying. Stop it right now, this is ridiculous.

He squeezes your hand before flattening your clenched fist and kissing your palm. He lingers there for a moment, a warm and steady presence, while you collect yourself.

Eventually, you bring yourself to meet his eyes. His eyes flitter between your own, laced with obvious concern. Which makes sense because who in their right mind just breaks down sobbing with zero explanation as soon as their boyfriend walks in the door.

“I.. It’s just— I can’t believe you actually came here. To.. to see me. It’s— I don’t know, it’s really not a big deal I’m so sorry—” You stammer pathetically between gasps, wiping your tears on your shirt sleeve. Damn it. Why can’t you just pull your self together?

“Shhh. It’s okay, just take your time. I’m listening.” He soothes, pressing his mouth against your knuckles. You can feel his teeth through the soft skin of his lip as his breath ghosts across your skin.

“I just missed you.” You finish plainly.

It’s true, you did miss him. But you can’t quite bring yourself to say the whole truth. You want to tell him how much him showing up means to you. You want to thank him for actually caring about you and wanting to be around you, even if that means he has to go out of his way to achieve that. Nobody had ever treated you this way before. They wanted you when you were convenient. When you were easy.

Jisung just isn’t like that. How could you think otherwise?

Jisung huffs out a fond laugh at your answer and breaks into a half smile. By the knowing look in his eye, you can tell he understands you without words.

“Yeah, well, I missed you too. Come here.” He folds you into his chest, one hand behind your head and the other tracing circles across your back. You could stay here like this with him forever. Except that you might be getting snot on his shirt right now.

“Hold on, I really need a tissue,”you admit, pulling away from him and giggling. You excuse yourself to the bathroom while Jisung gasps and dramatically “ewwwuhh”s after you.

You avoid making eye contact with your reflection in the mirror as you blow your nose. Eventually, you glance up to take in your appearance. God. You look a mess. Your puffy red eyes squinting back at you agree. You rinse your face with some cold water just for good measure.

After you had taken care of business, you emerge from the bathroom to find Jisung sprawled out on your couch, limbs dangling about haphazardly. When he spots you, he pouts and makes grabby hands.

Mock rolling your eyes, you go over and lay on top of him, your couch complaining at the added weight. Straddling your legs, you place both of your arms around his head, cradling it. The feeling of his body underneath yours, the steadiness of his heartbeat, the curve of his waist, It just feels right. Like it should always be this way.

“You want to kiss me sooo bad, huh?” Jisung teases. He cocks an eyebrow at you and makes a kissy face. You cant help but laugh while you grab his face between your palms.

“And so what if I do? Huh?” The grin is evident in your voice as you dip down to give him a peck on the lips. It proves to be a little difficult to give a proper kiss to someone who is giggling through their nose and fighting back a smile. You kiss him once, twice, three times.

“You know,” you comment, “this would be easier if you just stayed still—“ Jisung abruptly surges upwards into a sitting position, nearly bonking his head against yours in the process. You find yourself straddling his lap while his hands shift to support your thighs.

Eyes brimming with admiration, he simply stares at you for a moment. Taking in everything that makes you, you. You’re perfect. And he wants nothing more than for you to just be able to see what he sees.

He leans in, slowly closing the gap between you two. You feel your heart skip as you lean to meet him, your eyes fluttering shut.

A bright flash blinds you and before you could even draw in a gasp, a deafening crack of thunder consumes your senses.

You can feel Jisung jump beneath you, his hands tightening around your thighs. Both of you pull away from each other in shock. He stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open, looking so genuinely frazzled that you break into a fit of laughter and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He laughs breathlessly in shock for a few moments, hand coming up to his heart to ground himself.

“You good?” You lean back and brush his back the hair that had fallen in his face, peering into his eyes.

“Mhm!” Jisung nods with a tight-mouthed smile, his voice an octave higher than normal.

“Awhhh my poor babyy,” You coo, returning to your previous position and rocking him back and forth.

Eventually, you two settle into a comfortable position on the couch. You had tucked yourself into Jisung’s side, resting your head on his chest. He had recovered from his little heart attack and is now rambling on about the lore of Hollow Knight, with the steady beat of the ever-pounding storm at your walls as accompaniment. You sigh in contentment, bathing in the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Jisung?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Hm?”

“Stay with me?”

“Always.”

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littlelamy · 2 months ago

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good morning/afternoon/evening!

i just wanted to ask if you could write a rafe fic based on "bad idea right?" by olivia rodrigo

so basically, reader and rafe are exes (duh) and one day, reader "accidentally" unblocks him. just as she was abt to block him again, a message pops up asking for her to come over hehe. so obviously, she decides to go. but suddenly, its like god was against her going bcs her car wont work, the bus is running late and it even started to rain! but she does arrive at rafes house and basically they get back together again lmao

if you decided to do this, tysm!! i love love love ur writing and i think you are insanely talented. again, tysm and goodbye!

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!🤍🐑

you really shouldn’t be doing this. like, seriously, this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. but here you are, staring at your phone screen, heart racing because you just “accidentally” unblocked your ex, rafe cameron.

it wasn’t even intentional. okay, maybe a little. you were mindlessly scrolling through instagram when you saw his name on an old dm, and your thumb slipped. you thought about blocking him again right away, but then a message popped up. “come over?”

you stare at the text, feeling your pulse quicken. what the hell are you thinking? you blocked rafe for a reason — or a hundred reasons, actually. he was toxic, arrogant, and he had this way of pulling you in, even when you knew better. and now here he is, luring you back with just two little words.

bad idea, right? you should just stay home, curl up on the couch, and forget this ever happened. but of course, you don’t. instead, you grab your jacket and keys, tossing your phone in your bag like you're trying to outrun your better judgment.

when you get to your car, it won’t start. of course. perfect. as if God is trying to save you from your own stupidity. you slam the steering wheel, muttering a few choice words. fine. no problem. you’ll just take the bus.

but the bus is late. like, really late. you check the time every five minutes, cursing under your breath. why can’t you just forget about rafe? why can’t you stay away from him like a normal person with self-control?

the sky opens up as if God isn’t done with you yet, and it starts to pour. just your luck. you stand there, soaked to the bone, waiting for a bus that feels like it’s never coming. every rational part of you is screaming to turn around and go home, but your feet stay glued to the spot.

eventually, the uber you placed comes, and by the time you arrive at rafe’s house, you’re drenched and shivering. his place looks exactly the same — massive, expensive, and too quiet for comfort. you stand at the door for a second, debating if you should knock or just turn around. but before you can make up your mind, the door swings open.

“look who decided to show up,” rafe says, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid grin of his. he looks annoyingly good, as usual, in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“shut up,” you mutter, stepping inside before you can change your mind. “this was a bad idea.”

“maybe,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. “but you’re here, aren’t you?”

you glare at him, peeling off your wet jacket and dropping it on the floor. he’s standing way too close, and you can feel the tension between you, thick and heavy. the same tension that always pulls you back, no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re done with him.

“why did you text me?” you ask, crossing your arms like that’ll somehow protect you from the mess you’re about to get yourself into.

“because i knew you’d come,” he says simply, stepping closer. “you always do.”

his words hit harder than they should have, because he’s right. you hate that he’s right. you should have stayed home. you should have walked away the moment you saw his message, but now that you’re here, you don’t want to leave.

“maybe i shouldn’t have,” you whisper, even though you both know that’s a lie.

rafe’s eyes darken, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “but you did.”

you hate how easy it is for him to break down your walls, to make you forget why you ever ended things in the first place. his fingers brush your cheek, and you lean into his touch, feeling that familiar pull. it isn’t just lust. it’s something deeper, something dangerous.

before you can stop yourself, you kiss him. hard. like you need him to remind you why this is such a terrible idea, but all he does is kiss you back, pulling you closer until you can feel his heartbeat against yours.

his hands are everywhere—in your hair, on your back, gripping your waist like he never wants to let go. it’s like you haven’t spent months apart, like nothing has changed between you. and in that moment, maybe it hasn’t.

you pull back, breathless, staring up at him with wide eyes. “this is a bad idea, rafe.”

he smirks, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, “maybe. but when has that ever stopped us?”

you don’t have an answer, because he’s right. it never has.

taglist (comment below if you want to be added): @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

#rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafecore #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron outer banks

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weirdmarioenemies · 1 year ago

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Name: Neo Bowser City (aka Koopa City in PAL regions)

Debut: Mario Kart 7

Do you ever think of all the weird locations we only ever see in Mario Kart games? Despite being the biggest of all of Mario's spin-off franchises, when you really get down to it, remarkably few Mario Kart courses are actually based on established Mario locations!

It's not none, there's the occasional Donut Plains and Tick-Tock Clock and Airship Fortress, but most of the courses are these weird one-off locations we never see outside the context of that specific racetrack.

But have you ever taken a moment to step back and like, think of the Lore Implications of some of these places?

Like okay! Bowser just owns this whole dang cyberpunk city and we only ever see it in the context of Kart Racing! How messed up is that?!

One day Mario and Friends were looking for new places to race, and Bowser must have said something like "Gwah-hah-hah! I bet you puny punks could NEVER beat me in a race in my cyberpunk metropolis!" and right then and there it was established that Bowser owns a cyberpunk metropolis. Neo Bowser City is a city that exists in the Super Mario World and aside from returning in other Mario Kart games, it hasn't been acknowledged before or since.

Neo Bowser City first appeared in Mario Kart 7, as the third course in the Star Cup. Despite its flashy visuals, it actually doesn't really have a whole lot going on. It's a difficult track with some tight turns made more difficult by the rain making things more slippery, but besides that it doesn't really have any of the Wacky Obstacles that define so many Mario Kart courses.

Then it returned in Mario Kart 8 looking more gorgeous than ever! The bright colors really pop out, and the whole track is just oozing with detail that really emphasizes the scale of this city!

But like, the emphasized scale really only further raises the question of where this exists in the Mario World. Clearly, the fact that Bowser is plastered all over the billboards and the fact it's named "Neo Bowser City" helps us deduce that this city probably belongs to Bowser. Is this located in Bowser's Kingdom? Just how big is Bowser's Kingdom? And why does he own so many separate castles?

Maybe Neo Bowser City exists in the future? Is this a bad timeline? I mean, Mario Kart is allowed to have time-travel shenanigans. There's a Splatoon battle arena and that exists thousands of years in the future so sure, dust off Mario's Time Machine and head to the bad future where Bowser wins. Should've pressed that New Super Mario Bros. big yellow P-Switch!

I asked my friend Mod Chikako for their input and their theory is that Neo Bowser City isn't the future of Mario's world, but of our world. Clearly Bowser just couldn't take Wreck-It-Ralph losing the Oscar vote!

But in that case I guess it's a cooler cyberpunk future than the one we're living in right now. Corporate monopolies that run mass-surveillance with little government intervention due to their extreme wealth giving them extensive political power? No thank you! Neo Bowser City has bright neon colors, and flying cars! If I'm going to live in a dystopia, I want it to be a fun one. The only advertisements I want to see plastered everywhere are ones advertising Bowser!

Boo! That's the bad guy! Thumbs down!

The course returns again in that pitiful mobile game with another redesign, this time letting us see his Coney Island Disco Palace off in the distance. Does Bowser live in his Neo City? Is this worldbuilding we've been missing out on for decades, finally answered by a kart racer? Is this the capital city of Bowser's Kingdom? Am I once again falling victim to my perpetual hubris of overthinking the Mario franchise?

Really, I can't offer too much in terms of wacky fan theories, because I'm still thinking about this location existing in the first place. I'd love to know the Lore and worldbuilding here, but I guess the nature of Mario's canon is that it doesn't need to be over-analyzed. Bowser simply owns a cyberpunk metropolis, we'll only ever see it in the context of kart racing, and maybe that's okay.

Of course, this post wouldn't be complete if I didn't mention Dinohattan from the 1993 Super Mario Bros. Movie, which we've barely talked about on this blog somehow. You see, when the meteor hit, some of the dinosaurs escaped into a parallel timeline where they then evolved into humans, and then they built Dinohattan instead of Manhattan. Get it? Yeah, that movie is all sorts of bonkers. I wouldn't say it's very good, but I kinda love it. I'd recommend checking it out, if only to see a vastly different take on Mario than you'd be used to.

Anyway I bring this up because it's a completely separate instance of a version of Bowser building a large cyberpunk metropolis, and it actually predates Neo Bowser City! Do you think they could be connected? Are Dinohattan and Neo Bowser City one and the same...?

#neo bowser city #mario kart 7 #weird mario locations #mario kart 8 #mod hooligon #really mod chikako also helped contribute a few jokes to this post i gotta credit them #i've had this post sitting in the drafts for over a year and a half #no clue why i took so long to publish it it's basically been fully complete this whole time

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sp0o0kylights · 8 months ago

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There were a lot of things Mike hated in life.

The demogorgon, and how it had essentially destroyed his life.

Brenner, and the madhouse laboratory El had survived.

How each and every one of his friends now did something weird--were weird, because flashing lights or fireworks or some stupid tune a toy horse played dragged up memories that made their eyes flat and faces hollow.

Most of all though, Mike hated how much they relied on Steve.

There was no reason he should be the person to call when it started pouring and no one wanted to bike home from AV.

Steve wasn’t Nancy, or Jonathan, or a parent--he wasn’t even dating anyone related to any of the Party anymore so what excuse did he have to keep hanging around?

(Even if Jonathan was always working, and Nancy was always busy with some club or homework, and everyone’s parents all seemed to be in a race of who could get back to normal the fastest…)

They should at least try to get a hold of other people, instead of constantly going to Steve first.

“Why?” Dusitn had scoffed at him the last time this had happened, feeding quarters into a phone and staring at Mike like he was the one being unreasonable. “I’m not gonna waste money just to hear your sister tell us no again when we all know Steve will do it.”

Which was perhaps the most infuriating part of it all.

That Steve would do it.

Show up and help them, even if he bitched the whole time.

Hell, Steve Harrington knew more about Mike’s life offhand than Nancy did, and that made him want to punch a wall more days than it didn’t. Why the hell was Steve so involved?

It was stupid.

Weird, even! They weren’t friends, (even if Dustin and Max and El of all people said the opposite) he wasn’t being paid to babysit, (Mike had double checked; going round to ask Ma Henderson and Mrs. Sinclair, only to get an earful of how wonderful Steve was from both.) he had no reason to hang around!

It didn’t make sense that Steve could be harassed into picking them up from school.

Would take them to get ice cream, or hand over extra quarters for the arcade. He even gave out advice like some kind of--brother that Mike had never wanted.

Above all?

Mike hated that when he needed someone, the number he punched in on automatic was Steve’s.

“I need you to come get me.” He said into the receiver, mad at himself and the world, but mostly mad that beyond the normal amount of squawking Steve did, he shut up and came.

Drove up in his rich boy car, stepping out and herding Mike into it like the rain hadn’t already seeped into his bones.

“You wanna tell me why you snuck into a bar two towns over?” Steve asked, long after Mike had slung himself into the passenger seat, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“No.”

One of Steve’s hands went right to his hair, running through it before adjusting the mess he’d just made.

It was a nervous habit, and Mike hated that he knew that too.

“Okay, well.” Steve’s hand fell back to the steering wheel, clenching tight around it. “Next time you want to do something dumb could you at least come talk to me about it beforehand?”

“What the hell would that do?” Mike bitched, staring firmly out of the window.

“Not waste my gas for starters.” Steve bitched right back. “But I dunno man, we could have taken some bats and gone and wailed on cars in the junkyard and talked or some shit, not--whatever this all was.”

‘This all’ was accompanied by a wave of his hand, indicating not just the bar Mike had been standing in front of, but his general sopping wet state.

“You’d actually go to the junkyard with me?” Mike challenged, doubtful.

Steve made a face. “Did you lose your hearing in there? I just said--.”

“Why?” Mike interrupted. “Why the fuck would you come out with me?”

Matching his entire aggressive tone, Steve said; “Because it’s better than trying to sneak into the one local gay bar when you’re barely fourteen, Michael.”

And that?

Steve being oddly aware of shit he really shouldn’t have?

Mike hated that too.

“You knew what the bar was?” He asked, his voice coming out much smaller than he intended.

“Everyone knows what that bar is, except it’s more of a biker bar than a gay bar.” Steve shot back--which did actually explain about ten different questions Mike had about the place. “Also, language you little shit.”

Under his breath, Steve continued in a muttered; “I swear I’m going to start carrying around soap.”

“You cuss more than we do.” Mike responded, and if his own voice was a little strangled as he fought back the sudden swell of tears, then that was between him and God.

He was not crying in front of Steve Harrington, he outright refused.

“The point I’m making is that there are way better bars to sneak into. That one’s not nearly as welcoming as people make it out to be, probably because they’re sick of all the rumors.”

Steve seemed to realize what he was implying because he quickly added; “Not that you should be sneaking into any bars at all!”

“You’re not my mom.” Mike’s voice turned wet as he lost his battle with his throat, voice cracking as he failed to choke the tears back.

“No shit Wheeler.” Steve said, and at least he was good enough not to call attention to Mike’s crying.

If he had, Mike was pretty sure he’d just up and die of embarrassment, right there.

“I don’t get why you care.” He muttered, angrily swiping at his eyes.

“I didn’t keep you alive this long just so you could die of something stupid.” Steve countered easily.

Which was kinda fair, if you thought about it.

Mike very much did not want to think about it.

Any of it.

Ever.

“Are you gonna tell my parents?” He asked after a painfully long moment.

Long enough that Steve had begun fiddling with the radio, trying to find a station as they drove back that wasn’t wailing country or gospel music.

“I’m not a narc, so no.”

“Not about the bar.”

Now Steve just looked confused.

Probably because he was, because he was without a doubt the stupidest almost adult Mike knew.

(Not that he could say that out loud--last time he had, Max had made one of her pissy faces and then El got mad because Max was, which led to a break up, which led to Mike having to beg his way back into his girlfriend’s good graces while explaining that he hadn’t meant it like that.

“How did you mean it then?” Max demanded, and Mike wasn’t sure how he managed to dodge that entire conversation but he had, on grounds that untangling his own emotions regarding stupid Steve made him want to pull his hair out and scream.)

“What about then?”

“You know. Don’t make me say it.” Mike absolutely didn’t plead, even if it did sort of, kind of, sound like pleading.

Steve flicked his eyes away from the road to give one long, weird look at Mike. The same one he gave Dustin when he went off on a rant about Cerebro or Lucas when he started discussing the stats of different D&D weapons.

Unlike those times, Steve’s face cleared.

“Oh.” He said, blinking, and Mike could practically see the light bulb flash above his head.

Then;

“Nah.”

Mike waited.

And waited.

And kept waiting as Steve went back to searching through radio channels, as if that was the end of the conversation.

It couldn't be the end of this conversation.

Not when this was the part that was eating Mike alive.

He didn’t know if this was Steve repressing it on purpose or if this was what he had to look forward to for the rest of his life if he kept trying to figure his own head out, but either way, he knew he had a choice to make.

To let the unspoken part of today die quietly. Go unsaid, and remain unsaid, for all eternity--or he could let it out.

Shove the “gay” part of “gay bar” in Steve’s stupid, jock face.

Make him acknowledge it, even if it got Mike kicked out of the car, and who cared if it did?

Steve wasn’t the person who should have picked him up anyway.

The anger climbed higher and higher in his chest, tears and rage combining until Mike spat it all out, furious.

“You’re not going to ask if I’m gay?”

Steve didn’t turn to face him, but Mike saw his eyebrow cocking anyway, given how he was currently glaring a hole in the side of the older teen’s head.

“Do you want me to?”

“No.” Mike bit out automatically. “Yes. I don’t know!”

Steve’s hand found its way back into his hair.

“Okay then.” Steve paused, clearly fishing for something to say.

Gleefully, Mike watched him struggle.

“Do you like guys?” He managed finally, looking like he was navigating a minefield more than just talking.

“I don’t know.” Mike stressed, sinking lower in his seat. “Why do you think I was at the bar? I was trying to figure it out!”

“Honestly I assumed this was some sort of stupid dare--but!” Steve held up a finger, before Mike could interrupt, “But let’s--shit, hold on, I had a speech for this but I kinda wasn’t expecting to use it this soon. Um.”

“You have a speech for me being gay?”

“Not for you.” Steve rolled his eyes. “For--in general! It was an in general, just in case speech!”

He rounded on Mike, for longer than the younger was comfortable with given Steve took his eyes off the road to do it. “Okay--you can like boobies, you can like, uh--not boobies, and that’s fine! It’s all totally fine!”

“You are not making it sound like it’s fine.” Mike said, feeling like he’d been taken out by hearing Steve say the word “boobies.”

Gross, gross, gross.

“Well it is.” Steve said, in a tone that felt like he was two seconds from adding in a smarmy ‘so there!’ at the end.

“But I’m dating El.” Mike whined, which really, was both the heart of the matter and the eye of the storm that had been growing in his head for months now. “I can’t be gay if I like her.”

“Don’t you guys break up and get together like four times a week?”

“No, that's Max and Lucas, El and I are stable.” Mike scoffed. “Or we--we were stable.”

Before he started to have thoughts about people that weren't his girlfriend.

Or women.

“Stable for being in middle school, sure.” Steve snorted. “You don’t just have to like one or the other you know. You can like dudes and chicks at the same time.”

Which Mike did not know, on account of being fourteen.

He did his absolute damndest not to show that realization, instead adding that to the list of reasons why he hated Steve Harrington too.

Steve shouldn't be the one teaching him about who you could like!

“The point is that who you end up loving isn’t a problem.” Steve finally looked back to the road. “Other people might be an issue, and those people we can punch in the face so long as the cops aren’t looking, which isn’t part of the speech so let’s not tell people I said that part, but whatever you do choose, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

Steve’s voice went firm, as he apparently recalled his speech or something close enough to it because his next words sounded a little rehearsed. “You have people who are here for you, no matter what. Okay?”

Oh God, Mike was crying again.

He wanted to punch Steve in his stupid face.

Wanted to hold onto the fury he'd built inside himself. Thrash around, throw himself out of the car, get away from the emotions that felt too big for his chest to contain.

Instead he felt it all break on Steve's acceptance. On word's he didn't know he needed to hear until they'd been spoken, and sniffed out a quiet; “Okay.”

Steve of course had to take it too far by reaching over and patting his knee, which they both regretted judging by how quickly Steve took his hand back and the face Mike made at his hand--but it…

It was appreciated, even amongst all Mike's rage.

Steve was appreciated.

Not that Mike would ever, on pain of death, tell him that.

Neither said a word for a while, Steve finally landing on a radio that was playing some Top 40 hit, Tears for Fears singing about ruling the world while Mike found himself trying to rebuild his own once again, tired of it having shattered so many times over.

At least he finally felt better, even if he refused to admit Steve was the reason for it.

He wasn’t quite done though.

There was a piece Steve had skipped over, that Mike felt was critically important, if only because it was partly the reason he was having thoughts about being gay in the first place.

He had to know if Steve saw it too.

That it wasn’t just him and his stupid head, making up things that weren’t there.

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Who was the speech for?”

Steve sighed.

“Rule one of the whole queer thing Wheeler, you don’t out other people.”

Like there were written rules or something.

(Maybe there were, it wasn't like Mike knew.)

“Was it Will?” Mike asked, and pretended like he didn’t desperately want the answer to be yes.

Steve didn’t say a thing, but the fact he nearly took the car off the road was a pretty solid answer in itself.

“We’re not playing guessing games about other people’s sexualites!” He yelped, hands gripping the steering wheel as Mike felt a wave of relief crash through him.

Will was--maybe, possibly, also--queer too.

Which didn’t make this any better but it--wasn’t the not preferred outcome, either.

(It wasn’t just Mike struggling alone, trying to figure out if his best friend wanted to be more than that, if El was breaking up with him and more and more because she wanted to be less than a girlfriend, if things were changing and he would have no one--)

“I’m not out here picking Will up from a gay bar dipshit, I’m picking you up, and this is your reminder that next time, you should just come talk to me!” Steve ranted.

Mike snorted.

He absolutely hated Steve Harrington, but--

“Fine.” He said, talking so low he could barely be heard. “I will.”

--maybe Mike did have someone in his corner after all.

Even if it was just Steve.

xXx

Bonus:

“Between you and me, that kid is gayer than a two dollar bill.”

“Wow Robin,” Steve teased, “Isn’t that like, a slur or whatever?”

He snickered when she rolled her eyes and threw a roll of stickers his way.

“I’m just saying. Did you see the way he was looking at you when you were showing off your stupid biceps?” Robin said, nudging her shoulder into Steve’s. “Will’s gonna have a rude awakening later if he hasn’t already.”

Steve nudged her back, but kept his gaze on the Party as they trooped their way from Family Video to the arcade next door, the realization that they now had connections for free rentals making them downright gleeful.

Will was the last one in, and Steve watched him hurry so as to not be left behind.

He didn’t like to worry about the dipshits, but Robin was just putting voice to a thought Steve knew he wasn’t the first person to have.

And if he noticed it, then it didn't exactly bode well as being kept a secret.

“Should we like…talk to him about that?” He asked after a long moment, turning to face Robin.

“Us?” She pointed at herself, before turning her finger on Steve. “Why us?”

“Well you’re into girls.” He gave her a pointed look, glad that the store was empty of everyone but them so he could actually voice all this. “And I’m fine with it.”

“Yeah I’m sure he wants to know you’re fine with it.” Robin taunted, but she had her thinking face on, eyes out to the middle distance. “I barely know him. You barely know him--he’s the quietest out of all your kids.”

“They’re not my kids.” Steve argued automatically. “They're like a weird cross between shitty siblings and that kid in your class who never leaves you alone.”

A fact Steve no longer took for granted, even if he made it sound like the worst thing ever.

“I just think it’d be nice if he knew that he had people in his corner, you know? Who supported him and shit.”

“Steve, you compared my crush to a muppet, that wasn’t supportive.” Robin countered, but it too was on automatic.

Softer she admitted; “You’re right though. If I had known other queer people, if I had known people would accept me...it would have made things a lot easier.”

A very long pause, in which both of them stewed for a moment, before Robin abruptly slapped her hand down on the table.

“Okay, you got me. We're doing it, and I'm making us a speech.”

“A speech?”

“Yes dingus, a speech. I know you, you’re terrible when you’re put on the spot with this kinda thing, and trust me with things like this the moment will be spontaneous.”

“It’s Will, how spontaneous can it be?” Steve challenged back. “Getting a dinner order out of him is a chore.”

“Stop whining and hand me that notepad. Im telling you its gonna happen when you least expect it and then you're gonna thank me later.”

“It better not happen without you.” Steve sighed, but passed the notepad over.

God the things he did for those stupid kids.

Bonus x2

Steve would later go on to use the speech on himself, in a gas station bathroom mirror, eyes wide and freaked out after Eddie Munson called him Big Boy in a van they stole, while Robin snickered behind him.

He would turn on her, snapping that she; “Help me with this dammit!”

In return she’d remind him that Tammy might sing like a muppet but Eddie was the guy who stepped on lunches while giving speeches at lunch and sticking his tongue out, and “Really Steve, I think I won best gay awakening, here.”

Which would promptly start an argument regarding how it wasn’t a competition, which would continue for another fifteen or so odd years before finding its way as a reference into both of their speeches as each other’s best man.

Nancy and Eddie wouldn’t get it at either wedding, but Mike would.

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milkkkkkkkkkk · 1 year ago

Text

cw: explicit content, oral sex, vaginal sex, afab!reader, teasing, smut, mdni

word count: 2.8k

"You were soaking wet from the storm outside. You made your last delivery for the day, but still couldn't go home. Will the offer for some hot cocoa turn a bad day to a good one?"

jim halpert x reader

WORST DAY

You were thankful for your new job. It was awful most days, but thursdays... You had started working in delivery, pastries to be precise, and worked monday through thursday. And on that one last day, you got a weekly order from Dunder Mifflin. The receptionist always smiled at you, she was very sweet, and the guy who was apparently the boss didn't miss a chance to make an inappropriate comment. But there was a reason you kept making these deliveries, even if you could ask someone else to do them. You met his gaze, a couple desks over. There he was, brown wavy hair and soft eyes. You felt the butterflies in your stomach, and you heart raced a little. You held his gaze, not wanting to seem shy, and he looked down a couple of seconds later, showing a small grin on his face. That was the highlight of your weeks. The donut delivery to Dunder Mifflin.

One day he started to receive and sign the deliveries himself, taking the chance to make small talk, ask about your day or maybe your plans for the weekend. You surprisingly found him really easy to talk to, and learned that his name was Jim, his birthday was october first and he always had jam and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Your crush had developed into something more than just your heart skipping a beat. You'd noticed his eyes trailing down your body, and him leaning a little bit closer than needed, and how easy he made you squirm. You wanted him, and the tension between you two was undeniable.

That was your routine for a little over three months, stealing glances and hidden smiles, talking and flirting a little before you had to go. You'd grown comfortable around each other. And that had been your regular schedule, never a mishap. But today was different. The rain had you almost completely soaked, but you were making sure that your tiny umbrella covered the donuts completely and kept them dry, even if it was at your expense. You struggled to open the front door and at the exact moment you managed to get in you crashed into someone, resulting in a box of donuts on the ground. Thankfully the box was sealed with tape and none of the donuts actually hit the floor, but the glaze was messed up. You scrambled and mumbled a string of apologies, mentally cursing yourself and everyone else. You had a rough morning, and this was just making your day worse.

Gentle hands met yours when trying to lift the box off the ground, and as you looked up from underneath your long eyelashes, you met the gaze you were so familiar with. He looked a bit worried, and his mouth moved, saying something you didn't hear, you were too busy trying to comprehend what was happening.

You started to realize the state you were in, and asked a soft "Sorry?"

He smiled and asked "Are you okay?" while getting up from the ground with you.

"Oh," you chuckled slightly "Yeah I'm okay, I'm just having a little bit of a bad day."

"Strong storm outside..." He trailed off looking at the window to the rain outside. To be honest, it was raining pretty hard.

You took the chance to look at him for a second, taking in his wet hair and sticky shirt. Thinking he must've got caught up in the storm as well, and scolding yourself for staring.

"So um... Do you have any plans for today?" He suddenly asked, locking his eyes with yours.

"Thankfully this is my last delivery for the day, though I can't really go home, they're fixing a leak" You sighed, thinking how you couldn't even relax at home during the storm. You'd end up in a library maybe, you'd have to hope they'd let you in with soaked clothes.

"Im uh, done for the day, got off early," He started, "We could maybe go to my place" He suggested and you looked at him.

"I make killer hot cocoa" He finished with an enticing grin.

You considered it, it would be a chance to get closer, and maybe more...

You finished the delivery, deeply apologizing to the receptionist and after explaining the situation and the state of the donuts, you assured her the next delivery would be free of cost.

Finally, you opened the door to his car. He was waiting for you outside of the building, and turned on the heat to warm up. He lived 20 minutes away from his office, and actually closer to your apartment too. You walked into his flat, looking at the simple and a little bit messy living room.

"I'll bring some dry clothes for you" He said, disappearing into what you assumed was his bedroom. You took the chance to walk around the kitchen, it was clean and organized. He reappeared with a black t-shirt, some red and black pajama pants and a towel.

"These pants were my brother's, I think they'll fit" He said as he handed you the dry clothes. "The bathroom is over there" He pointed to a white door.

You thanked him and went into the bathroom, locking eyes with him as you closed the door, intentionally leaving a gap big enough to catch a peak. You turned your back to the door as you started to undress, feeling his eyes on you. You unbuttoned your shirt, and slowly slipped it from your shoulders until it hit the floor. The bathroom was directly across the couch in the living room. And you heard him as he sat down to enjoy the show. That made you even more giddy, and slick with anticipation. You unclasped your bra and took it off before moving to your pants. They were made out of soft fabric that was easy to remove from you body, and they dropped to the floor. Toeing off your shoes, you finally put on the t-shirt he gave you. You could tell he wore it often, it smelled strongly like him, and that made you wet. You grabbed the towel and put it around your neck, drying your hair a little, and walked out of the bathroom, to stand directly in front of him in only a shirt and panties.

"The pants didnt fit."

He was sitting on the couch, man spreading, one of his arms thrown over the back rest of the couch and the other one resting in his thigh. The first three buttons of his white shirt were open, and his tie ditched on the floor, his hair messier. The mood had changed completely, there was a clear sexual tension and heaviness in the air. His eyes had darkened, like his expression, and he looked directly at you. Looking at his shirt on your body had an effect on him. The hem of the shirt was just below your ass, and your perky nipples showed through the soft material. He didn't say anything and just stared, taking in the sight, and you noticed the growing bulge in his pants.

You took a step forward, and he stared at your eyes, finally smiling at you, a different kind of smile to the one he offered every thursday. Maybe today wouldn't be such a bad day.

You finished walking towards him, standing in between his legs, and you placed a hand on his cheek, making him look up. His eyes were hungry, and his hands acted like so. He started on your legs, caressing them, moving up to your thighs and then your waist and your back. You closed your eyes, enjoying his touch, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling his head towards your abdomen. After a few minutes he finally grabbed at your ass, looking up from your abdomen and pulling you to sit on his lap, straddling him.

You felt him then, hard and big underneath you. Leaning down, your breaths mingled, your hands moved to his neck as his hands cupped your ass. You were so close, yet your lips weren't touching.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

"Yes." You whispered back before he kissed you. Slowly at first, as if he was memorizing how your lips felt on his, or how soft your skin was beneath his hands. He began kissing you more deeply, almost desperately, and you wondered if he had wanted you as long as you had wanted him.

He squeezed your ass, making you open your mouth to let out a sudden moan and he took that chance to make his tongue meet yours. He explored every inch of your mouth, and you started pressing down on his hard cock. You were in a state of bliss, and wanted to take the next step. Moving your hands from his neck you moved to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them and revealing a toned build. You finished unbuttoning his shirt and ran your hands through his chest. Your legs moved away from his sides and onto the floor between his legs. One of his hands moved to his belt, unbuckling it with such and ease that it made it incredibly arousing. You dragged his pants and his boxers down in one go, not wanting to take more time, desperate to have his dick in your mouth.

It was big, and it had a nice girth to it. You stared at it, your mouth already watering. One of your hands grabbed it by the base, and your tongue drew a line from the base to the tip. He threw his head back, finding the sight of you unbelievably hot. He gave himself to the feeling of your mouth on his dick. After teasing a little, your lips wraped around the tip of his member, earning a small gasp from his mouth. You swirled your tongue around it, before hollowing your cheeks for a few seconds and letting go, making a popping sound. You spat on it, before putting it in your mouth again. You continued, feeling one of his hands tangle in your hair. You bobbed up and down for a few minutes, before your needs started to feel unbearable. A string of saliva connected your mouth and his dick when you pulled away, looking up at him. You found his eyes staring right back, with an expression you couldn't read. You stood up, standing in between his legs again, and his hands found their way to the hem of your panties, sliding them down your legs until they were on the floor. He wet his lips, his eyes filled with lust and anticipation. He gently pushed you to the couch, making you lay on your back, and you were suddenly feeling a little embarrassed when he opened your legs to get a good look at you. You were flushed, and Jim was delighted to see you like that, so impossibly lewd.

He bent down, kissing you right below the belly button, and he continued leaving a trail of kisses leading right to your pussy. He only gave one kiss to your clit before moving away, kissing the inside of your thighs, the sides of your abdomen, and getting so close to your pussy it was almost torture. He was slow, as if he was enjoying tormenting you.

"J-Jim please...."

He froze for one second before turning his eyes to you.

"Are you begging?" He asked in a mixture of disbelief and lust.

You looked away, pouty. "I guess I am" You said sheepishly.

You couldn't have known the effect that had on Jim, to see you begging for him, sprawled in his couch, wearing your shirt, and so wet for him. He would've liked to keep going, to keep teasing you, but you were so irresistible looking like that... that he couldn't help it. He kissed you pussy, finally, earning a moan from your mouth. You didn't know if he had neighbors, so you tried to stifle the sounds coming from your mouth as he started to dive right in your folds. He swiped his tongue over and over, sucking on your clit, plunging his tongue into your hole, making you a moaning mess. You couldn't stand it anymore, you needed him, needed to feel full of him. Would he fuck you if you begged?

"Mnhn... Jim... please fuck me"

That was all he needed to hear before kneeling on the couch, one hand on the handrest behind your head, the other grabbing at your thigh, looking at you with hunger. He grabbed the base of his dick, swiping his tip on your slick folds and earning soft sounds from you. He was tremendously hard. He aligned himself at your entrance before looking at you for approval. You nodded.

You felt the mixture of pain and pleasure as he pushed in, stretching you, going deeper and deeper, before he was all in. He waited a moment before slowly pulling back out, and going back in. He kept a torturously unhurried pace, making sure you were comfortable, and enjoying it as much as he was. He had a knack for teasing you, for making you beg, you realized. When you were ready to pick up the pace, you looked up at him, hands on his chest.

"Faster...please"

He buried his head on your neck, and you wrapped your hands around his back. He started to go faster, slapping sounds filling the room, mixing with the ongoing storm outside. He felt so incredibly good inside you, you could hear the little sounds coming from him, his hands gripping your skin, his lips leaving a mark at the crook of your neck. You felt a familiar sensation starting to build in your lower abdomen, the fast steady pace of him hitting a particular spot inside you that made you feel better than you ever had. The sex was mimd boggling. You were so close.

"Jim...ah...I-I'm gonna..." You said through strained breaths.

He kept his pace, gripping you tighter, the knot snapping. You moaned, gasping for air, feeling overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your sensitive parts being overstimulated by him, now going at an uneven pace, chasing his own release. He moaned and pulled out, sticky white strings shot out of him, landing on your chest and stomach. His load was big, and he kissed you when he finished.

You were both exhausted, but he still stood up and went to the bathroom. He came back with a towel and clean clothes and asked if you wanted to take a shower. You did, and wore the comfy hoodie he gave you. While you were in the shower he cleaned the couch and started preparing some hot cocoa. You emerged from the bathroom, taking in the sight in front of you. Shirtless Jim, preparing hot cocoa for both of you. A blanket on the couch and some snacks on the table. You could get used to this. His back was turned to you, and you suddenly felt the need to hug him. You wondered if it would be okay, or if it would be crossing a line. You decided to risk it as you walked up to him from behind. Your hands slithered around him and he flinched. A sudden wave of disappointment hit you, and you tried to pulled away before his hands grabbed yours, and pulled them around him.

"Your hands are cold"

He said as he turned his head to smile at you. Relief washed over you, and you melted on his back, before he turned around completely, leaning on the counter.

"I need to take a shower" Was all he said before pecking your lips and disappearing into the bathroom for 10 minutes. You decided to make yourself comfortable on the couch, pulling the blanket over your body. He got out of the bathroom with wet hair, and you couldn't help but think about how hot he looked. You then realized what just happened. You just had the best sex of your life with Jim Halpert. And you were in his apartment, in his clothes, waiting for the hot cocoa he made for you. You blushed, today was truly an out of the ordinary day.

He went into the kitchen and came back with two mugs. He put on a show and you drank your hot cocoa, talking about whatever came to mind. It was truly a killer hot cocoa, and you hoped to have it again. Soon, you had both finished your drinks and now were cuddling on the couch, his arms lazily hung around your body, and you were playing with his hair.

"Let me take you out on a date" He said out of nowhere, and he smiled when you met his gaze. You returned the smile, agreeing to meet tomorrow for dinner. Your bad day had turned out to be the best day you've had in years. You gave into the cozy feeling of being in his arms, taking in his scent and his warmth, and fell asleep to his fingers drawing circles on your skin.

note: hi!! im new to tumblr so im sorry if my posts look a little weird. this was originally posted on ao3 with the same name. i hope you liked it!! <3

#the office #jim halpert #jim halpert x reader #smut

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thunder-wolf64 · 2 months ago

Text

I Have a Proposition

-by thunder-wolf64

Cw for Monk Gourm Surv spoilers.

Story below the cut.

As Monk crawled into a shelter, rain shook the ground outside. Unexpectedly, someone followed behind. Monk turned around and jolted seeing the creature behind them.

Enot's smile grew, it's flat red teeth shining against the dim light. "Hello, short one!"

Monk's ears pinned, "H-hello!" He returned the greeting. Monk shuffled into the corner a bit more, "Do you need to stay in this shelter? it's raining outside now, I don't think you'll make it to a different shelter." Monk patted the insulated ground of the room. "I don't mind company, I'd never want anyone to die to the rain, not without as much help as I can offer."

Enot chuckled softly, "You sure follow your namesake." It slithered into the box, soft moss and lichens padded the cold metal ground. Though that didn't matter to Enot. "Do you share shelters a lot?"

Monk was quiet for a moment, "... You must've heard about me from the scavengers, they love to chat." The yellow slugcat laid down on the ground, his short fur and body heat warning the ground. "Mhm back home I usually sleep in piles with the others, but now I'm here and more often scavengers and lizards will hibernate with me. I have yet to see another slugcat though!"

"You must miss colony life, you're a sociable little creature." Enot scooted closer to Monk and lays down, its long tail curled around both of them. "Colonies aren't around inside the walls anymore, the rain is too severe and the shelters are too small."

"The walls?" Monk echoed. He noticed Enot's long and disjointed tail curling around him, but he didn't mind. "Is that where I am?"

Enot nodded its head, its long ears smoothing out to avoid hitting the top of the cramped shelter. "Inside the walls, a place where the rain takes over, as you know. Your life on the outside, in the wilds, is more tame than the destruction here."

Monk chuckled, "I mean, not dealing with jungle leeches is nice-"

"Is feeling yourself slowly becoming paralyzed from a spider better? Is dealing the rot better? Is swimming in polluted waters better? is getting swept off the ground by vultures better? Is lizards fighting over your limp body better? Is being drowned by worms better?" Enot leaned closer and its smile wrapped around its long snout. "You haven't even experienced half of the terrors here. No matter how nice you are, how much kindness you treat a creature with, you'll always be reduced to a karma flower for your empathy."

Monk stood up and stepped away from Enot. "You can't know that."

Enot hummed, "hmm, well I do." Enot sat up on its haunches and leaned over the yellow furred slugcat. "You need to go home. You won't find your sister here. She's already gone."

Monk's heart raced, what does this slugcat mean by that? "She's not gone, she'll never be gone for as long as I'm searching for her." The whole reason Monk came here was for Survivor, he couldn't give up. "And how could you know?!"

"Everyone really needs to stop asking that question again and again." Enot rolled its strange blue eyes. "I made sure your sister had her ending. You need yours. You'll see her again, you just need a way to go home." Enot taps his claws, "Except you can't actually leave."

"You're not making any sense! Is Survivor already home? Is she still here?" Monk starts to lose his composure.

Enot frowns, "ugh, timelines, how do I make this sort of linear?" Enot starts to mumble to itself while Monk sees if he can make a run for the exit. "Gourm opened the door after Surv- but Surv isn't home so Monk can't see her..."

Monk leapt around Enot and dashed for the pipe, but the messed up slugcat grabs Monk by the tail and drags him back down. "Get off of me!" Monk yelps.

"Wait wait wait! Darn... OKAY." Enot gently tosses Monk back into the corner and blocks the exit. "Out of every scug I figured you'd be the easiest to convince towards their 'bad' ending." Enot groans and yanks on their ears in frustration. "Ummm, sure go home. It's a long journey, and your sister won't be the same. But screw the timeline, my existence itself is breaking this world!"

Monk looks on twitch fear, "...what?"

"You beat my games, I'll have to think this through better next time!" Enot begins to cough something up, an egg with a weird red marking. "Sorry about this, but it is .. your payment for your ending or whatever. Find the iterators yada yada and you'll be fine-" Enot reaches out and taps Monk on the nose, "-boop!" Enot drops the egg and everything starts to warp.

Monk gasps as he wakes up where he started last cycle. "... I think I need to go home asap."

---

Moink avoided Enot's tricks through plot holes! Yippie!

Also new monk design!

#art #my art #digitail art #rain world #slugcat #rw monk #rw enot #rw IHAP

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 11 days ago

Text

Partners in crime

Warning ⚠️; Blood, murder, mention of child murder.

Pairing; Ghostface/Gn!Reader

Summary; People never learn from the past and you use it to your advantage. Because what’s better than one killer? Two.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The police station was eerily quiet as you sat on a plastic chair facing the detective behind his desk. The man had crossed his hands under his chin and closed his eyes, his face showing how heavy the burden of his investigation was. The man grinded his teeth before opening his eyes to stare at you.

Legs crossed and back pressed against your chair, you weren't impressed by the situation. You felt no remorse nor fear, knowing how safe you actually were. They had no proof, not enough evidence to lock you up in a cell. Not after the new murder. Not after Ghostface had slaughtered two more people while you were being interrogated and manhandled by the man in front of you.

- “I think I deserve an apology, detective.” You said, tilting your head to the side. “Probably even more than that after you humiliated me in front of everyone and ruined my fucking life.”

- “Listen here, everything pointed to you. I don't have to give you an apology or anything just because I was doing my job.” The detective snapped, almost throwing himself back against his own chair as he raised his head, his ego bruised by what you said. “Besides, now everyone knows you are innocent and were just some kind of scapegoat.”

- “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Give me back my job, the salary I lost or erase what my family and friends told me?”

To that, the man had nothing to say. There was no way for him to rewind time and do things correctly. He had wanted fame for catching the killer and forgot your were human. Forgot that you were innocent until proven guilty. Now he was the one being humiliated and ridiculized for messing up and a part of you hoped he would lose his job.

Because he had been right.

You were the masked killer. Or rather, one of them. There were two of you and no one seemed to have realized it, but it was true you and your partner had been more than careful to not leave any proof behind. You had been the careless one and now your partner had to save your ass.

That pissed you off because you knew he wouldn't shut up about it and would tease you relentlessly for the foreseeable future. What a mess.

And the fact the detective had identified you drew a target on his back. You needed him gone. Fired at least, dead at best. He was a threat and you needed to take care of him now.

- “Anyway, you are free to go.” The detective said, turning away from you and faking focusing on his screen.

Free, you got up from the chair and collected your things back. On your way out, you began texting your acolyte and told him to pick you up. You two had a lot to talk about but of course, not on the phone nor by texto.

Outside the rain was pouring like crazy and it took less than a minute for you to be soaked to the bone. In the middle of autumn, it wasn't the best thing to happen to you, but better than to be in the police station. You could feel the eyes and judgement of the people who walked by. They knew who you were and what you had been accused of. But they weren't important so you ignored their staring.

Your partner soon arrived and you quickly jumped on the seat next to him. After slamming the door he drove away in silence. Eyes closed, you rested your head and tried to calm your racing heartbeat. That had been a close call. Too close.

You could still feel your bones shaking as adrenaline still filled your veins. You smiled weakly when you felt your partner’s hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently in sign of support. Having him there, right by you was the only comfort you needed. Your friend, your soulmate, your partner in crime. Together you were unstoppable.

You opened your eyes and turned your attention to your partner. His eyes were staring at the road and you could see anger and determination in them. He was as pissed as you about what had happened, but at least he had the decency to stay quiet and not say anything about how you fucked up.

- “So. What are we gonna do?” He asked, hands grabbing the wheel tighter. “Your call.”

- “We fear him apart.” You simply said, resting your head against the cold window. “Tonight, we are going to make him and his whole fucking family pay.”

- “Good for me. I leave the kids to you.”

You nodded, eyes watching the scenery pass, the rain blurring the window but still allowing you to see.

- “First the kid, then the wife and we finish with him”

- “Aye, going to drive him mad! Oh, can I deal with his wife please, please, please!”

- “You saved my ass, do as you wish.”

You loved the terror you spread in town as much as the fear in your victims’ eyes as life left them. Tracking and playing with them, was your partner’s favourite but you two hated the same thing; waiting. The wait was definitely the worse part about being a killer. You had to observe and wait for the perfect time while the only thing you wanted was to paint the whole place red.

Hidding in the woods behind the detective’s house, you watched as his wife came home before him with the kids. His little spawns ran around, laughing and screaming as they played unsupervised, their mother too busy preparing dinner inside. It would be so easy to just scoop them up and make them disappear.

And that exactly what you did.

They never got a chance to scream, your gloved hand clasped shut on their mouths.

The sun set quickly and soon the woods were filled with cops and volunteers who hoped the find the kids. Little did they know, it was already too late. You had made quick work of sending them to see their grandparents but had put them in a mise en scène just for their father to find.

Obviously, you weren't part of the searching party.

You went back home, savouring the fruitful night by rewatching the Stabs movies with your partner. After all, you weren't supposed to know the detective’s kids were missing and after his accusations you had no reason to help him. You ignored your phone as long as you could until you had no choice but to reply to your “friends”, reassuring them you were fine and relaxing with your partner and didn't know anything.

It was predictable that the detective would come and confront you, but you still almost jumped off your skin. The pounding on your door almost scared you to death, but it was your boyfriend who confronted him through the door as he called the cops.

You listened to your partner and the detective screaming match, a knife in hand. If things escalated you wouldn't hesitate to guts the fucker and throw the plan out the window. Thankfully, two cops’ car showed up and the detective left with them.

You didn't need to talk for you and your boyfriend to understand each other. You both knew what was left to do that night. It was time to finish your business with the detective.

You waited in the woods, satisfied to see not only the yellow tapes but also the absence of any police cars. No one was there to watch over the house or their colleague, you had made sure of it with your partner. You didn't want to get caught, not now, not when you were about to get your revenge.

Once the sun as fully disappeared and the house was wrapped in darkness, you acted. In silence, you broke inside the house and split to be able to find the woman quicker. It was your boyfriend who got his hands on her first and he didn't give her the time to scream. He walked in the living room, her unconscious body on his shoulder and you could imagine the grin under the mask.

He dropped her on the floor with a loud thud before he gaged her. You gave him the rope and let him tie her like a saucisson while you walked around the room. Pictures of a happy family hang on the walls and the sight made you sneer. There was also pictures of the detective with his boss and other important people. You chuckled. Where were they? Not here, not protecting his wife.

You sat in the armchair after turning it to face the sofa. Legs crossed, you stared at the woman without words as she woke up. Her whimpers and tears didn't do anything but amuse you. You raised a hand and pointed at your partner, making her turn her head. She screamed, but the gag prevented the sound from coming out, as your boyfriend stabbed her in the belly.

He didn't stop there. Over and over again the blade fell on the woman like a brush on a canvas and her blood became the paint. It soon formed a puddle around her and after a long moment, she stopped moving. Yet, your partner wasn't finished. You shiver in disgust as he opened her up like a pig and cuts out her heart. He left it on a plate with a fake flower he grabbed somewhere in the house.

- “Done?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, let's go. I don't want to be inside when he finds her. Once he gets inside, we need to act quickly. He will call the cops and they'll be here in minutes.”

And so the waiting began again. You sat outside in the woods on a bed of dried leaves and sticks, back against a tree. Your partner watched, mounting guard, his back against the same tree as you with his arms crossed. Neither of you spoke, not wanting the risk to be spotted.

But you still interacted with each other.

Sometimes he would nudge you to get your attention, then make a small dance or just flip you off for the heck of it. You weren't better, hitting him with sticks or throwing dead leaves at him.

Then, the Detective came home.

It was time to finish the night in beauty.

You followed inside, quiet, as his scream echoed in the house. Under your mask, you smiled and pulled out your knife. With careful steps, you made your way to the living room and found the Detective cradling his wife’s headless body while crying. Behind you, your partner sneaked into the shadows and went hiding in a dark corner in silence.

You entered the living room and stepped behind the grieving man, resting your blade against his neck. You smiled as you saw him tensing in fear.

- “What's the matter, Detective? You didn't expect me tonight?” You asked, your synthetic voice filling the room.

- “You son of bitch! Why?” He asked, slightly turning his head as you took off your mask. “You! You… how…”

At the same time, your partner revealed himself, toying with his knife and slowly dancing. You saw surprise and shock appear on the defective’s face and you laughed.

- “Surprise! I am not alone, I never was.” You said, quickly sinking your knife in his throat.

You didn't wait and pulled out the blade and stabbed him again, but this time in the chest as he grabbed his neck trying to stop the bleeding. Gurgles left his mouth while blood rolled down his chin. It wasn't long until he laid dead in a puddle of his wife's and his own blood.

You stared at his corpse, tilting your head. He went down quicker than expected, but you were happy it was over. No one would suspect you anymore.

You slowly lifted your head and shared a look with your partner. He was there, applauding you as if you gave him the best spectacle in the world. You chuckled and put your mask back before bowing to him.

You two left the house and made your way back home. You hid your costumes in their usual place and went for a long shower. Under the warm jet, you savoured your boyfriend’s kisses and tender caress. Tonight again you had been the perfect duo and it only made you feel pride. Unlike any other Ghostface, it seemed that your duo might actually win.

And who knows? Maybe one day you'll feel bold enough to go after Sydney Prescott herself but until then, you'll enjoy your victories.

#male reader #x male reader #x reader #fanfic #reader #angst #x gn reader #gn reader #writers #writeblr #writers on tumblr #scream #ghostface x gn reader #ghostface x you #ghostface x reader #ghostface #ghostface x male reader

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hotxcheeto · 2 years ago

Note

omgomgomg so i saw that u write for tess & when i tell u i never screamed louder!!1!1!!

can we pretty please get a toothrottingly fluffy smut where its readers first time & tess is just like gentle & sweet towards reader and making sure theyre comfy and stuff, sorry if this is kind of all over the place this is actually my first time requestin somethin 🫶🏽

━ 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Tess Servopoulos x Fem-bodied!Reader ( Written as game vers. Tess but can be read as both! )

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, v fingering ( r receiving ), oral sex ( r receiving ), mentions of alcohol / getting drunk ( in passing ), super fluffy cause omg they're cute, top!tess, bottom!reader, ( let me know if I missed something with the gender I tried to be as gender neutral as possible )

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope ( it's been hours and it's 2am I'm tired )

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - I'm so happy that I was the first you requested for! I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK TO LONG IT'S BEEN A ROUGH TIME. BUT ILY!!!! I hope you enjoy!! <3

Game tess has no gifs unlike HBO Tess :( They're both equally hot they should have equal gifs !!!!!!

REBLOGS APPRECIATED AND NOTICED

The lightning flickered against your eyes every time it made it's appearance, it's partner, thunder, never far behind. The loud sounds feeling as though they shook the entire complex and everything around it, even the QZ walls shuddered. But you payed no mind, staring down at the guards in the road. Very few, but they were there.

They'd talk back and forth to forget about the rain, ignore the chill of the wind nipping their faces. Talk about before or pretend the past never happened.

Sometimes you could hear them, but tonight you couldn't. Not with the rain and the loud banging on the decrepit buildings. Sometimes you wondered whether or not the buildings in the QZ would last much longer with storms like this.

Instead though, on this night, you just watched them, then sometimes the rain droplets, imagining them as two cars racing one another down the glass. As if you were a kid in the back of your childhood van.

The door then suddenly opened up behind you, but you didn't turn around. Recognizing how specific her boots sounded against the wood flooring, how she cursed underneath her breath and threw her stuff onto the table with a thump.

You knew who it was without needing to turn around so you kept staring. Eyes droopy but you were wide awake.

"What's so entertaining?" You heard the slight sass in her voice, the tone that never left even when she was being deadly serious. It made you smile, turning your head to the side to look at her.

"Everything and nothing." You took in a breath of the cold air that crept passed the window seal. "Gotta make do in the apocalypse."

She stood at island counters, hands spread apart and leaning her weight on the tile. Staring at you with a stupid smirk on her face.

"What took you so long?" Tess knew the question was coming but that didn't mean she wanted to answer it. "Ran into some trouble-" "What?" "-but I got out of it. Just some assholes that thought they wanted to mess with Joel and I."

You hadn't seen Joel in a while, but you reckon he hadn't changed a teeny, tiny bit since the last time you had. You took to liking to the grumpy man, you trusted him to make sure Tess came back breathing.

Despite is unfavorable gaze and his harsh wording.

"Are you hurt?" You stood from the chair, taking fast strides towards her while she shook her head, still smiling. "No, didn't even bump a hair on my head. I promise." A bit of a white lie, but she didn't want to worry you.

"Swear?" Tess quietly nodded, looking at you run your eyes over and over her face while turning her head back and forth. Looking for any scratch or slightly discolored patch of skin that wasn't there that morning.

"Say it." She grabbed your hands from her cheeks and holding them in her own. "Swear."

You leaned forwards to kiss her, noticing her slightly chapped lips and the mostly soaked in lip oil you'd let her borrow while out and about. Wanting to hide one of your favorite parts of her away from the unforgiving wind.

It didn't take her a second to kiss back either, grabbing your hips to keep you there until she decided to pull back. Grabbing either side of your cheeks and tilting your head down to kiss your forehead. Resting her mouth against your hair as she thought.

"How 'bout you go get ready for bed, I'll get my shit put away, okay?" Pulling away from her you raised an eyebrow. "And what am I getting out of this?" "You ain't gonna get anything you keep asking questions."

You huffed but shuffled off, squeezing her hand as you did so .

Tess and you were never supposed to go this far. Roommates. Someone to get drunk with to forget or tell stories and be each other shoulder to maybe shed a tear on. Never go further than that.

But it did.

You weren't sure who fell first, you just knew you did and it was hard.

She felt as if she was too old for you, even though you weren't the youngest yourself. You did know that there were some things that she had experienced that you just hadn't because of the world's terrible timing. But you never felt too young for her.

Just perfect, actually.

You were barely friends back then, and yet, you trusted each other more than most married couples. But, once it did go further it also went unspoken.

You were hers, as she was yours. Corny, but so were you.

As Tess would say anyway.

You laid down to wait for her, looking at the closed curtains in your small shared room. Only fitting a tiny closet and a bed, not that you had much for the closet to hold.

"Scooch."

Tess appeared behind you, smiling while watching you scoot towards the other side of the bed to make room for her. Feeling her arms wrap around your middle and her breath against your neck send shivers down your spine.

"What about your day?" Tess muttered, kissing the nape of your neck. "Boring. I did some odd jobs all day but they didn't last long. Mostly waited on your slow ass." You felt her laugh against your skin, chuckling to herself while shaking her head.

"Slow, huh?" "Mhm. Too busy getting jumped to come home to me, right?" Her grip tightened when she let a sarcastic 'ha ha', sitting up and resting her head on her hand.

"C'mere." Tess lightly gripped your face, giving you a much hungrier kiss than she had earlier when you had initiated. No, this one had need behind it, want seeping from it.

"I missed you today." She whispered, kissing you again and letting herself taste the mint contraband you'd been chewing earlier. "I missed you too." You breathed, a nervous feeling pooling in your lower belly.

"Fuck I missed this." Tess hated leaving in the mornings, and the afternoons, especially the nights as well. Tess just hated leaving, but she knew she had to if you both wanted to survive.

Her hand crept down to your sleeping pants, running her fingers over the band that was low on your hips. The rough pads feathering over your sensitive skin. Caressing your inner thigh through the thin, withered fabric.

Inches away where you began to felt the need for her. A need you hadn't felt in a long, long time. One you'd never satisfied, and you sure never had someone else satisfy.

"Tess." You pulled back slightly, a bit taken aback by your reaction just as she was. "Shit, I'm sorry, fuck I should've-" "It's... it's not that."

Your expression spoke a thousand words, shamefully glancing away from her and at anything else in the room to distract yourself.

"You're.." It was deadly silent besides the rain banging against the glass panes. "Y/n, you didn't think to tell me?" "M'sorry I didn't.."

Her voice held no malice, only genuine confusion making you finally look at her. Seeing her more concerned you didn't feel comfortable enough to tell her, the thought of you hiding it maliciously never crossing her mind.

"I was so young... when the world went to shit.." You trailed off in a broken whisper, trying to explain yourself but you didn't have to.

Not to her. Never to her.

Not with something like this.

"Hey, hey look at me." And you did, meeting her darkened eyes only illuminated by the light coming from the sheer covered window.

"You don't have to do all that. Not with me. It's up to you."

"I want to." You spoke, so low and soft, your voice sounded like a drug to her. Nervous and ready for what was to come.

You trusted her.

Tess looked away from your eyes and down at the hem of your oversized shirt, unable to give her a view of your silhouette that she loved so much.

Her hand moved to pull it up and over your boobs, lightly brushing the very tips of her fingers against your nipples. Getting a few light whimpers to fall from your lips.

"Look at that." Tess moved over your body, kissing your collarbone and then your chest. Making her way all the way down to your sensitive bud, licking your tit to get a reaction from you.

And it worked, her mouth making your breath halt, feeling the warmth wrap around your entire boob. Then quickly feeling her move to the other, only kissing it before giving your belly a peck. Sitting up again.

Tess scanned your face, leaning down to kiss your lips.

"You tell me when it's too much, got it? You tell me when to stop."

"Okay. Okay I will."

Looping around your waistband, Tess pulled the pants from your legs. Making the pulse between your thighs even worse as the layer was stripped away. Even squeezing them together to be rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

"God, you're so... shit just look at you." You felt your face warm, invisible to her eye but to you, you were burning up. A fever created from her words mixed with her starved eyes raking over your body like she hadn't ate in decades.

"Spread your legs baby, c'mon." And you did, her arms hooking under your knees to bring you even closer to you. The woman grinning when you shrieked in surprise at her sudden tug.

"There you go, so good for me. To think no one else has gotten to see any of this. Some unlucky fucks."

"Lucky for you though." You giggled, her warm palms trailing your exposed hips. Hooking under the tiny elastic underwear band.

"You sure about this?" Her eyes flicked to yours again.

"Positive."

Tess than pulled them slowly from your legs, a string of slick following after them making her own cunt ache at the sight.

"God, Y/n." She tossed them aside to find another time. Leaning down between your thighs. "All for me." Tess kissed your inner thigh, again and again while inching towards your heat.

"Ready baby?" You nodded quickly, the pain of your own arousal becoming too much for you to handle all on your own. "Yes, please, please Tess."

Her mouth soon wrapped around your clit, tongue tracing an infinity sign over the sensitive bud over and over. Not stopping and not slowing, just again and again while watching your reactions.

Your legs felt like they went numb, head falling back in to the pillows while loud babbles tumbled from your lips. Wanting to praise her but you couldn't. The feeling was so alien and so much, you didn't know what to say. Until you did.

"Oh- oh my god.. please more Tess... please.." Your hands went to her hair, the other to your mouth to try it's best the muffle the sounds. But you weren't sure of well it would work when you couldn't keep it there, instead gripping the sheets when she pushed your leg further to the side getting an even better angle to fuck you in.

"I'm gonna do something, okay, you tell me if it's too much." You hummed, a bit lost in your cotton-stuffed mind feeling like you were lost in a fog and couldn't find yourself a way out.

Tess's finger appeared at your hole, very slowly pushing inside your body. A whine of discomfort filling her ears and she hated it, only wanting it to be over as soon as it could be. Wanting your body to stop tensing so hard.

"I know, I know, but it's gonna feel good I promise." The woman kissed your thigh again, then your clit, beginning her assault on your bundle of nerves to distract the rest of you away from the twinges of pain.

And it began to, not only her warm tongue sending so much pleasure through your lower half, now a curled finger ran along your walls. The rest of you beginning to relax as her movements sped up, but only the more you began to get used to it.

"Tess... more. I want more please." You looked down at her, never having felt what you were at the moment, and you couldn't get enough.

Tess added yet another finger and giving you another deliciously nice stretch, the woman sitting up a bit, the thumb of her other hand circling your clit.

"How's that, huh?" She watched you nod, looking down at your cunt while she kept you full. Moving in and out at a faster pace while keeping her thumb going in whatever motion she decided.

"G-good.." You responded, "reall-ly good." "That's it." Tess went faster, kissing your lips, muffling your loud moans that wouldn't stop even if you tried. "You're doing so good." "Tess.. oh fuck.. I-"

"Come Y/n. Let go. Let go for me baby." The high-pitched shriek was cute, she thought. Watching you come undone on her fingers.

Pleasure shooting through your entire body, but her movements never stopped. Only going faster, the circular motion on your clit making you joke and try and squeeze your thighs together.

It was too much.

You'd never felt something like that, something so strong and so pleasure-filled, not in a world like this.

Your mind went into a hazed mush while you mumbled and cried out things to her. Your hand scratching at her upper arm while she whispered sweet things to you, calming you down while a tear or two trickled down your hot cheeks.

"You did so good. You did so good, baby."

"Tess... oh fuck." You cried out.

"I know, I know."

And you did, the only thing auditory besides the now slowed rain. Tess kissing the space between your eyebrows and then your nose. Finally moving down to your lips.

"You did so good." Her fingers pulled away from you making you whimper. "I really liked that." You mumbled, Tess smiling and letting out a light chuckle. "Yeah?" You nodded in response.

"M'glad it was you." You then whispered, your blinking began to slow as the exhaustion followed the adrenaline crash. Tess flustered in the darkness, the woman was glad you couldn't see it.

"Get some rest, I'll clean you up, okay?" She kissed your neck, sitting up just as you rolled over, laying almost completely on her side of the bed.

"Okay. But you better come back." "Well you better be out of my spot."

You huffed, "But it's comfier."

a/N: 2:22

#tess x reader tlou #tess x reader #tess tlou #tess #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tlou #the last of us series #the last of us #tlou hbo #hbo #hbo the last of us #nevy writes

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wrathofrats · 1 year ago

Note

16 for the angst prompts pleasee (maybe mountain dew?)

-☀️🌙

… I’m so sorry

This turned into 1.2k words of me deep diving into dew’s insecurities. Y’all keep telling me to hurt that fire ghoul and I sadly have more than enough to deliver.

Hope you enjoy!

“He’s just been extra sensitive recently.”

It sounds like rain from what dew can make out through the door.

“I know. He’s just been harsh.”

That was definitely mountain. Were they talking about him?

“I don’t think he means it. Just been rough for him”

“Yeah but it’s getting hard to be around. He’s been mean rain, more than he usually is”

Usually is?

“I know. I’ll talk to him. He’s just in a funk I’m sorry”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You’re not the problem, dew needs to figure himself out”

So they were talking about him.

“I agree, trust me. Just cut him some slack ok?”

“Fine”

He hears the doorknob turn and he quickly darts in the direction of his own room.

Had he really been that badly recently? Sure he’s usually blunt and likes to mess around, but *mean*? Has he really been mean to everyone? To mountain?

The questions race through his head as he sits on the ground in his room. He doesn’t try to be mean. He doesn’t try to hurt anyone, the thought of being genuinely malicious to those he loves makes him feel sick. He knows no matter how much guilt he may feel or whatever his intentions actually were, they don’t excuse the effect they’ve apparently had.

He tries to suck it up and stop wallowing in his own pity. He wants to make it up to mountain, and whoever else is thinking the same thing as him, because surely everyone else is right? Dew doesn’t feel right with himself.

He starts with the greenhouse. He brings up the fresh mulch from storage that mountains been talking about needing to retrieve, and quickly refills his watering can before mountain comes to start his work.

“Droplet, did you do this?” Mountain asks. Dew doesn’t like the tone of confusion in his voice, like he would never expect dew of all people to help out. But he nods anyways and retreats back to his room.

The next day dew makes mountain his coffee alongside is. Wakes up 15 minutes early to be able to beat him downstairs.

“I made you coffee since I was awake, just how I know you like it.” Dew offers him a nonchalant smile. He tries hard to not seem like he’s going out of his way to be so kind. He hopes that the others will maybe just think he’s finally changed his ways, become better.

“Dew, can I ask if something’s wrong” mountain stares down into his coffee in confusion.

“What? No. Nothings wrong with your coffee. It’s just a kind gesture” dew rolls his eyes. Mountain didn’t think this was some elaborate prank did he?

“No, is there something wrong with you droplet” mountains eyes held genuine concern.

“Why would there be?”

Mountain doesn’t know how to phrase it. Doesn’t like the weight of the words on his tongue, but tries to say them anyways.

“You’ve just been … overly kind recently. Did something happen? I just want to know if you’re alright”

The slam of dews ceramic coffee cup echos off of the kitchen walls. He knew this would happen, he should’ve expected it.

“Why do you think something’s wrong with me when I’m nice? You wanted me to be nicer and now something’s wrong with me?” His voice is higher than he wants it to be.

“Dew no, that’s not what I meant-“

“I heard what you told rain. I’m sorry I just wanted to do better for you” he doesn’t want to cry. He is anyways. He again prayed that mountain would just take his kindness and forgive him and they could move on but he’s never had that kind of good luck before, why would he now?

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was frustrated and was venting and I never wanted you to hear that.”

Dew hiccups around his words. He’s embarrassed, never likes to show this much emotion. He’s always been the emotional one and he hates it more than words can ever describe.

“But you said it for a reason. Just let me change. I just want you all to love me I’ll change I’m sorry I’ll do better” his words slur together. His wipes his face with his sleeve and tries so hard to be composed though he knows he can’t be. Not like this.

“You don’t need to change dewdrop. We don’t want you to change. I’m sorry, you didn’t need to hear any of that. I didn’t mean it.” Mountain tries his best to plea with him, but he knows this about more than a stupid conversation behind closed doors.

“I do need to change. I need you all to love me like you do each other. Please” he can’t stop the words from tumbling out if his mouth. Years of pent up insecurities and he’s ashamed for how easy he’s letting them all go.

“We do love you dew, we love each other all equally, what is this about?”

“You don’t treat me the same” the words are choked, they’re barely coherent. “No one gives me the same affection as everyone else and I don’t get it. I just want to be loved like everyone else is”

“Oh dew, we do love you. I’m sorry if we made you feel otherwise. Why didn’t you say something?” Mountains abandoned his coffee now in favor of trying to rest his hand on dews shoulder but it’s quickly batted away. He’s concerned, almost scared at the way dew is practically sobbing, almost hyperventilating.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you how I feel. If I deserved love I would’ve gotten it already” he finally yells, sobs around his words. He collapses on the ground with mountain by his side. He’s again ashamed for his emotions. He doesn’t like being like this, doesn’t like being a nuisance. This was supposed to be about proving himself to mountain and he’s made it about himself. He again tries to push the concerned ghoul away. He doesn’t deserve the support.

Dew knows he's being unreasonable. He's jerk, a menace, a brat. Why would anyone go out of their way to show him any extra kindness. He doesn't deserve it. There's always the question of "if you crave love so badly, why don't you treat others with it" and the internal debate of "I don't deserve it" and "if I deserved it, someone would see past the act and give it to me anyways"

He's blind though, as the other ghouls do love him no matter what. The way they mess with him a bit extra, giving him an outlet to have fun, they think he enjoys it so they keep doing it. How they go to him when somethings wrong, or immediately move aside when all he needs is a warm bed and no talking.

The way mountain plants extra lilacs because he likes the smell, or how ether stands closer to him than the others on stage.

He's just too blinded by his own insecurities to see it. A bitter sweet feeling at being "right" about not deserving to be loved, but he was never right, just can't get over his own ego to admit that.

#I’m sorry #this one has been saved up #a lot of pent up emotions oops!!#my bad for real #the band ghost #ghost #fanfic #nameless ghouls #ghost bc #dewdrop ghoul #wrath writes #mountain ghoul

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 8 months ago

Text

Mess With The Best. Die Like The Rest. (Affinity Series)

Alpha!Bucky x Sweet Little Omega!POC!Reader x Alpha!Steve

Wordcount: 6235

Summary:

A certain someone from your past tries to rain on your parade of love and is dealt with accordingly.

Warnings:

Domestic Fluff, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Shameless Smut, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Mating Cycles/In Heat

Notes:

A little angst never hurt anybody. Don't worry it is rare for me not to have a HEA. I don't like writing angst for angst sake. Happy Reading Heathens 😈

Bannner by @cafekitsune Divider by @firefly-graphics

It’s a glorious Saturday afternoon.

The sun is high in the cloudless sky as you drive along the country roads deeper into the compound. You sometimes forget just how large this place really is. Tony made sure to have enough space so that anyone on the team could make a home without feeling suffocated with the day-to-day that is being an Avenger.

As your taking in all the lush greenery around you, you feel the car begin to turn onto a road you have never seen before.

“Ooh. This is new. Looks freshly paved.”

“It is. Finished just a couple days ago actually.” Bucky states.

“I wonder what it could possibly be all the way out here?”

“Well, stop pondering and just let your eyes wander, Doll. I’m sure it will show itself soon.” Steve quips with a poke to your side from the backseat.

Just as you turn in your seat to give the cheeky Alpha a sassy retort the tree lined road opens to clearing. Revealing luscious green grass surrounding the most beautiful Victorian Gothic house you have ever laid eyes on. It looks as if someone had reached inside your head and brought your dream home to life.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper to no one.

“Want to take a look inside?” Bucky asks, while gently grabbing your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. You hadn’t even noticed that the car had stopped.

“Can we? I don’t want to disturb whoever lives here.”

“It’s a brand-new property. Tony only let us know about it last week.” Steve answers.

“Then yes, please. I’d love to take a look inside before it gets snatched up.” You quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the door handle. Launching yourself out of the car as fast as your legs can carry you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, there little Omega. The house ain’t going nowhere. Pump the breaks, baby girl.” Bucky chides you.

“Sorry.” You quickly reply. “I’m just so excited to see what the inside looks like.

“Well, I’m the one with the keys so you’re going to have to at least keep pace with me.” Bucky teases.

“Get a move on then Alpha.”

“Brat.” Steve whispers in your ear as he gives your ass a smack. “Behave. I know your excited, Doll, but there really is no rush.”

You take a calming breath, trying to tamp down some of your excited energy. That all goes out the window the moment Bucky unlocks the stained glass adorned front door.

Your Alphas are quickly forgotten as you race around the house.

Once again you feel as if someone made your dream home a reality. From the black, gray, crimson, copper, and white aesthetics adorning the walls and standard fixtures. To the ornate clawfoot tub in the master ensuite.

You make your way back to the surprisingly bright and open kitchen. The windows let in the perfect amount of light to make the most used room in any home feel warm and inviting.

“What do you think, little Omega?” Bucky asks as you dance your fingers along the marble island.

“It's stunning. Tony really out did himself this time. It's like its torn out of the pages of a gothic romance novel.” You swoon.

“I agree. I think it's perfect. Do you think we could be happy here?” Bucky queries.

Turning to face him you answer truthfully. “I’d be happy anywhere my Alpha's are.”

"What he means to say is…" Steve begins.

You watch, eyes wide, as both men get down on one knee. Bucky on his left, Steve on his right, allowing them to connect in the center where together they hold an open velvet box containing two rings that interlock to create one magnificent piece.

It's dainty and elegant. With just a hint of danger. Another thing that seems plucked from your dreams.

Steve continues. "Will you make us even happier than you already have by becoming more than just our sweet little Omega…"

"But our sweet little wife as well?" Bucky finishes.

With the tears brimming in your eyes, threatening to fall, you whisper your answer. "Yes."

"What was that? Couldn't hear ya. Need to be a bit louder, baby girl." Bucky teases.

"Shut up. You heard me. Super soldier hearing and all."

"Well I'd like to hear it again just to be certain."

“Me too.” Steve adds.

"Yes. James and Steven. A thousand times yes."

They grin ear to ear as they place the rings on your finger.

“We promise to fill this home with all the love and babies you can handle, little Omega.” Steve declares.

You pull them both up by their collars so that you can seal the engagement with a kiss.

“Please tell me, we get to stay here tonight?” You state, staring adoringly at your new ring.

“Just say the word and Pepper will be here to help select furniture and have it delivered before the day is over.” Steve informs.

“Oh, wow. Being mated to Avengers certainly has its perks.” You chuckle. “What about all our things at the apartment?”

“Movers are on standby. We weren’t leaving anything up to chance. We know our sweet little Omega. There was no way you would resist moving as soon as possible.” Bucky supplied with a kiss to his claiming mark along your collarbone, hugging you from behind.

“Well then. Make the calls.” You pull out of Bucky’s arms, kissing each man on the cheek. “I’m off to go find the perfect place to put my nest.”

You hum to yourself as you saunter through your new home. A shiny new ring adorning your finger and a promise for forever brightening your smile.

The first morning in your new home…

You’re awoken to the feeling of your body being moved. Followed by a tickling across your legs and the feeling of something wet sliding across your folds. You open your eyes to find Bucky with his face buried between your parted thighs.

A moan escapes your throat before you can begin to speak. “A-alpha. W-what are you doing? I was trying to get some sleep after the night you and Stevie put me through.”

"I couldn’t help it baby. What else am I supposed to do when you're lying in our bed looking all cute. My shirt that you stole to sleep in; being the only thing you have on, is bunched up around your waist because you can’t help but twist onto your tummy and bend your leg up regardless of if one of us is there to wrap around or not. You've got that sweet, sweet peach on full display looking ready to be played like bongos. And then when I run a finger along your outer thigh, and you arch your back like good little Omega in heat, teasing me with a glimpse of the treasure you keep between your thighs. Well what can I say. My brain shuts off. Goes right into autopilot and I can’t be held accountable for the wicked things my tongue does when left to its own devices." He confesses.

"You're a menace, Sarg."

"Yes, I am. But you love it. Now let me get back to my breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day after all."

You lay your head back down, spread your thighs a bit more and enjoy the early morning spoiling.

Steve, having just finished his morning run, is drawn to the sounds emanating from the bedroom. Upon his approach he leans against the doorframe. He’s shirtless. His grey joggers sitting low on his hips. His dick print elongates, creating an uncomfortable bulge as he watches his best friend and packmate please you.

“I don’t know what I want more. To listen to those sweet little moans get louder as you get closer to coming undone or to muffle them by filling your throat with my cock.” He gives his dick a squeeze and your glazed over eyes focus in on the movement and never stray. You lick your lips at the thought of getting your own shot of protein for breakfast.

“Want my dick in your mouth little Omega? Want me to feed you just like your feeding our head Alpha?” He pulls his dick out of his sweats and gives it a slow pump.

You whine and nod your head. Bucky stops teasing your clit and pulls back just enough to growl against your mound. “Use your words Omega.”

“Yes. I want your cock in my mouth, Captain.”

“Good girl.” Steve purrs. Stepping over to the bed and running a finger across your cheek. “Open up for me, baby.”

Bucky takes that moment to flatten his tongue and lick a path up your slit. Collecting all your slick honey along the way. “Fuck. You always taste so sweet, Omega. Better hurry up and get to sucking before your too stupid to remember how.”

You waste no time teasing your tongue along Steve’s length from base to tip. Making sure every inch was nice and wet. Wrapping your lips around his tip, you up into his ocean eyes and proceed to suck him down to the back of your throat.

You allow yourself a moment, mouth full to bursting, as you figure out how to breathe with so much thickness restricting your airways.

That is when Bucky chooses to suck on your aching pearl. Running the smooth underside of his tongue against the sensitive button, causing you to moan around the girth in your mouth.

The vibrations of your voice box along Steve’s shaft evokes a steady growl from his chest, and a slight jerk of the hips. “Fuck, Omega. You know what moaning with my cock in your throat does to me.”

Pulling your head back, you release him. A string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his spit-soaked tip. “That’s the point, right? I thought you wanted me to be a good little Omega?”

“Fucking brat,” You hear Bucky whisper against your thigh. Giving it a nip before getting back to his meal.

You take Steve’s silence as your que to swallow him back down. Focused on bringing him to his knees, you suck the life out of his cock. Bucky’s not the only one with a ravenous appetite.

Just as you can feel Steve teetering on the edge of his climax, Bucky slides two of his thick metal digits knuckle deep inside you. He even takes the time to curl them upwards. Hitting that sweet spongy spot that brings your orgasm to the forefront. Within moments you’re pulling off of Steve and falling apart on his tongue. Screaming out your pleasure to fill the room around you.

Your body quakes with aftershocks from the intensity to which you just came. You are not to be deterred though. You NEED your Alpha’s to feel as good as you do right now.

You scramble off the large bed. Lowering yourself to your knees on the plush area rug you had placed the day before. “I need both of you to lose the sweats and come stand before me.”

“That what you need little Omega? To suck both of us off. One dick to service isn’t enough for you this morning?” Bucky teases.

“Never. Always want both of you. All the time.” You whimper.

They exchange a look with each other before removing the offending sweats from their bodies and coming to stand in front of you shoulder to shoulder.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you on your knees, baby girl.” Bucky whispers out as he traces your lips with his flesh hand.

You squirm on your heels. Waiting rather impatiently to service them. That fuzzy hindbrain has taken over momentarily and all you can think about is pleasing your Alphas.

“Please.” You whine.

“Such good manners.” Steve praises you. “Go on, Doll. Make us feel good. Earn yourself a tasty little morning treat.”

That’s all you need to hear to place a hand around each of their dicks. Giving a slow tug until a pearl of precum makes itself know on their tips. Stretching out your tongue you make sure to collect each enticing drop.

You then proceed to alternate between them. Deep throating one as your hand jacks off the other. Teasing their knots until they are tight and ready to pop.

Leaning back on your heels, you open your mouth wide. Signaling to them that you’re ready for your creamy reward. With both being so close to brink of ecstasy, it doesn’t take long before they succumb to a mind-numbing orgasm of their own. Coating your tongue, face, and chest with rope after rope of their combined seed. Staining the shirt you slept in like a Jackson Pollock.

You can only imagine how crazed you look. Hair a mess. Smiling from ear to ear as you’re covered in the very essence of your mates. Your broken from your blissful revelry when the now cum stained shirt is pull off your body.

You watch in horror as Bucky goes to toss it in with the other dirty clothes.

"No! Don't put it in the hamper!” His arm stops midair. The shirt still clutched in his fist. “I want it in my nest. It’s the perfect blend of all of us. I need it." You plead. Sounding whiney even to yourself.

You know your heat is coming soon. You can already feel the pre heat symptoms slowly creeping in, but you don’t care. You need that dirty shirt in your nest.

"Should I be concerned that her needing to have a shirt that's covered in our cum is turning me on right now?" Steve questions.

"No. I think that falls into your possessive pervy wheelhouse. And I’m right there with ya, pal." Bucky agrees.

You shake your head. "Knotheads. The both of you." Snatching the shirt from Bucky’s grasp you head off to your nest to find the perfect spot to place it before claiming the first bath in your glorious new tub.

The following weekend…

The main compound patio and lawn has once more been transformed. Any excuse for Tony to throw a party he is on top of it. Well, Pepper is. Tonight he’s throwing his favorite mated pack a housewarming party so that we can announce your engagement semi publicly. If that is what we wish to do of course.

Seeing as how the party is in your honor, you made sure that your best friend Arlo got an invite. And the Alpha couldn’t be happier about it. Not since he quite literally bumped into Bellamy, one of Bruce’s Lab Assistants and seems to have made a connection. Could it be love? Who knows, but at least it’s been fun to watch.

When Bellamy gets pulled away by his fellow techs to take a round of shots you seize the opportunity to cozy up with your bestie.

"Who knew you were attracted to something other than gym bro betas and service Omegas?" You tease.

"Watch yourself little misses. Your track record until of late was not the greatest either. Your picker was broken too" He jabs back.

"Good thing I used mine instead, huh?" Bucky chimes in.

You all hear a loud obnoxious laugh ringing out over the crowd followed by a girlie giggly. Wanting to know what all the commotion is, you find your eyes scanning the party for the culprit.

That’s when your eyes land on the large solid frame of your abusive asshole of an ex, Caleb and you freeze. Your breath halts in your lungs and you turn pleading eyes to Arlo.

"Oh no.” He whispers. “Not that face. Please tell me your seeing things."

This alerts Bucky who is already at your side and Steve who had just made his way over with fresh drinks in hand.

"What's going on? Why's our Omega frozen in fear like that?" He demands.

"One word.” Arlo sighs in exasperation. “Caleb."

"You mean her waste of space Alpha asshole ex that shouldn’t be breathing let alone at a party in our honor, Caleb?" Bucky grits out.

"One and the same. Looks like he's attached to one of the female agents. Must be her plus one" He observes.

Steve tracks where your eyes have returned and sees a well-dressed man with his arm around a young omega agent that he recognizes. Clearly working his charm on the group that surrounds him.

"Vivienne." he growls.

"The omega that has been giving you issues in training is here with that scum?" Bucky asks.

"Not for long. She has the option to stay as she is part of the lesser teams. But he has to go. I don’t want to make a big deal about it, so I think it's best if you and I handle this quietly."

They exchange a look with each other. One that conveys that no matter what happens they are on the same side and will protect you at any cost.

"Arlo, why don't you take our Omega out on the dance floor and get her mind off things." Steve suggests. His Captain voice leaking through.

You snap out of your fear-stricken haze and turn to your Alphas. "You're leaving me?"

"No baby." Bucky coo's, nuzzling your cheek. "We're just going to go take out the trash. Didn’t want you worrying when you should be celebrating."

You look at Arlo. "Come on sweets. Let's destroy the dance floor and show these Avengers how to really party."

You look to your Alphas once more. "Okay. But you owe me a dance when you get back."

"Oh my sweet, sweet, little omega. Nothing could keep me from feeling that glorious body grind up against me while you’re lost to the music." Steve teases. "Have fun ruining our friends."

"I swear one of these days, those hips are gonna get somebody pregnant." Bucky jests.

"Is that so bad?" You state with innocent eyes.

He pulls you close and whispers in your ear. "Watch yourself little Omega. I just might take that as a challenge." He kisses you behind the ear and then turns to his best friend.

"Give your Alphas a kiss for good luck baby girl." He requests and you happily oblige.

Steve takes the liberty of deepening his and making sure to get your sweet scent all over him. "Now I can handle business properly. We won’t be long, Doll. Arlo, don’t let her out of your sight."

"Aye aye Captain!"

You shake your head. "You just had to make it awkward. What am I going to do with you?"

"Come on. I couldn’t help it. It was right there." Arlo laughs.

"You're lucky I love you." You jest.

"I’m a damn delight and you know it. Now let’s go shake our asses and turn this party up higher." He grabs your hand and leads you out on to the dance floor.

Bucky and Steve watch you saunter off before they face each other once again. "Got any ideas how you want to do this?"

"Just follow my lead." Steve replies.

"Aye, aye captain."

"Wow. Et tu Bucky. Et tu?"

"How's everybody doing? Having a good time?" Steve asks with a friendly smile on his face.

"Hello, Captain Rogers. It's a great party. Congrats on the new house. I'm sure being closer to work is nice." Vivenne greets him.

"The privacy and extra space was needed." He looks over to Caleb, his public mask firmly in place. "You're a new face. Hello, I'm Steve Rogers."

"I know who you are, Sir. And the Winter Soldier as well. I'm Caleb Withers. It's a pleasure to meet you. As my lovely date has already said, this party is great. Never been to a housewarming so big."

"Yeah. Usually Tony goes too over the top, but our Omega deserves all the bells and whistles."

"That's just the sweetest thing. I want my Alpha to gush about me like that someday. Where is she? I'd love to congratulate her as well." Vivienne carries on.

"She's on the dance floor with her best friend Arlo." Steve answers. Smile sat smugly on his face.

At the mention of Arlo's name, Caleb's brows furrow. "Arlo Ducant?"

"Yes, actually. Do you know him?" Bucky inquires with a darkened glare.

It's at this moment that the wind (or possibly a tipsy Scarlett Witch) kicks up. Pushing the scent of you mixed with your Alphas in Calebs direction.

He can't help but inhale. The familiar scent invading his space and evoking memories of the Omega who got away. The one who practically maimed him the last time he ran into her.

Ever the observant soldier, Steve notices the subtle changes happening before him. "Ah. Looks like someone finally figured it out."

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." Caleb spits out.

"What’s going on?" A confused Vivienne asks.

"Your date is our Omegas ex. I’m not going to get into particulars here but it's time for him to go." Steve succinctly states.

“Excuse me?” Caleb pipes up.

“You heard him. You’re not wanted here.” Bucky steps forward.

“Yeah. No.” Caleb stands taller and takes a slow sip of his drink. “If she wants me gone, she’s going to have to come over here and tell me herself. Not send over her little minions.”

“Caleb, what the fuck?!” Vivienne says on a gasp. “I am so sorry Captain. I didn’t know.”

“We’ll talk about this on Monday before training. You're dismissed.”

Not willing to have her risk her job over some asshole, Will, a fellow agent and Alpha, grabs her hand. “Come on, Vivi. Let’s go refresh our drinks.” He quickly spirits her away without further issue.

“I’m really not a fan of repeating myself. So place the drink down and let’s go. We’ll personally escort you out since you have such a hard time following direction.” Steve dictates.

With a clench to his jaw, Caleb downs his Vodka in one gulp, maintaining eye contact with Steve, before placing the glass down on a nearby table.

“We’re all going to walk calmly out of this party. I assume you didn’t bring a car. But that’s of no matter. Tony always has drivers on standby for parties.” Steve states. “Let me make one thing abundantly clear. You will not make a scene on our way out. Your presence alone nearly sullied our entire night. I will not have our Omega embarrassed over some poor excuse for an Alpha.”

Caleb glares at the only somewhat larger Alpha before him.

Bucky shuts him down real quick. “I wouldn’t get any funny ideas right now if I were you. The only reason your still standing is because besides Arlo and our Omega, we’re the only ones who know what kind of an Alpha you really are.”

“It’s time to go. After you.” Steve cuts in before Caleb can spew a retort.

The walk out of the patio was uneventful. Upon venturing through the darkened pathway that ran along the side of the compound, Steve, with the quickness only a Super Soldier can possess, grabs Calebs collar and pins him against the wall.

The little shit laughs in his face and shakes his head. “Oh wow. The little bitch really has you in a chokehold doesn’t she. I mean I know that pussy is magical but damn.”

“Watch your mouth when you talk about our mate, pal.” Steve grits out.

“Our mate? Both of you claimed her. What kind of old school bullshit is that?”

“She has two mating glands; therefore she was destined two Alphas. She was meant for a pack not a pair.” Bucky states while remaining deadly calm.

“And she chose a murderer and America’s bitch boy to mate with?” He starts laughing once again. “Fucking figures. She was always so..”

His words are cut off when a fist makes contact with his jaw. “Say whatever the fuck you want about us. We’ve heard it all. But what you won’t be doing is bad mouthing our girl. I should kill you where you stand for ever thinking it was okay to hurt a woman. I’d get away with it too. Benefits of being, what was that you called me, oh yeah America’s Bitch Boy.”

“Him I could believe. You? You wouldn’t have to balls to actually do it.” Caleb goads.

Bucky sighs in exasperation. “Fuck. Here we go.”

Without saying a single word, Steve begins to rain down fist after fist to Caleb's face and abdomen. He knows he’s broken at least three of the douchebags ribs. Besides a possible fractured orbital socket. Hard to tell when his eye is swollen shut.

“Which hand is your dominate one?” Steve demands.

He raises his right hand as his left holds on to his chest. Steve takes the hand and proceeds to break every finger. When the bastard starts to scream, he pins him back up against the wall with a hand around his throat. Choking out any sound.

As the anger that this man caused you pain rises. That he left you bloody and bruised and had the nerve to try and intimidate you even after you got out of that situation. His grip around Calebs throat tightens.

It’s when Bucky notices him start to turn a bit blue that he steps in. “Alright, Stevie. He’s had enough. Both Pepper and our little Omega will be pissed with us if there’s a body that needs cleaning up. Let the douche bag go.”

Coming to his more rational senses he loosens his grip. He lets Caleb fall to the floor, gasping for air, faced muddled in bruises in fresh cuts. There is no way he is showing his face here again.

While his best friend catches his breath, Bucky reaches down with his metal hand and pulls Caleb up from the floor by the back of his shirt. Not wasting any more time, he continues their intended trek out to the driveway where a car is most likely waiting to take him away.

You’d think being nearly beaten to death by Captain America would have knocked some sense into him or at least kept him quiet. But Caleb was determined to have the last word. The entire journey to the town car, he continued spewing his hate. Calling you horrible names and saying all you were ever good for was a tight pussy and decent looks. That he and Steve must have really low standards if they chose you.

By the time they reached the car, Bucky has had enough.

Happy was standing off to the side, making sure his drivers were ready at a moment’s notice. Not batting an eye at the battered man being dragged by the Winter Soldier, he approaches them.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with your sweet little lady? Not out here taking out the trash?”

Steve, having emerged from the darkened pathway answers for him. “This particular trash needed special handling.” He takes out a handkerchief and begins wiping his knuckles free of blood.

“I see. Raymond, I’ll be driving this man myself. Keep an eye on things for me will you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Happy opens the back door as Bucky lifts Caleb up to lean against the car. The asshole has more parting words for him. “We’re not so different you and I. One of these days she’s going to open that smart mouth and say the wrong thing and your hands will lash out without thought.”

Bucky leans all of his weight into the man. Making sure to add extra pressure to his ribs. “Just because I saved you from my best friend murdering you on our night of celebration doesn’t mean you’re safe. I’ll be keeping tabs on you myself. You better be on your best behavior. You won’t see me coming until your slowly bleeding out.”

He shoves him none to carefully into the back seat and slams the door. “I don’t care where you take him Happy. Just get him away from here. And make sure your drivers keep their mouths shut about what they’ve seen.”

“Already done.” Happy agrees. He gets into the driver’s seat and takes off down the long and windy driveway.

“You can’t walk back into the party like that, pal. Your shirt is covered in blood.” Bucky chuckles with a shake of his head.

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I need to see our Omega. Know that she is okay.” He growls out.

“Down boy. I’m going to go get her and then we can all head home. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve bobs his head.

Bucky whistles for one of the valets to grab their car. When it arrives he addresses the still clearly agitated Alpha. “Get in the back and try to calm yourself down man. I’ll drive us home so our sweet little Omega can sort you out in the back. Got it?”

“Don’t take forever.” He retorts, sliding into the backseat.

You’re blissfully unaware of the carnage that has taken place as you make your way to the car with Bucky. You know Steve is waiting for you and even though this was a party for you all, your social battery is just above empty. You just want to be at home with your Alphas.

You reach the idling car in no time and Bucky opens the back door for you. You slide in and a gasp leaves your mouth. Steve’s shirt is covered in blood. Your Omega instincts kick into high gear and you begin checking him for injuries.

“Little Omega, I’m okay. It’s not my blood.” Steve says in a soothing tone.

“Then who’s is it? Was the compound attacked?” You ask, still frantically checking him over.

“No baby. The compound is safe. We just had a little discussion with Caleb on his way out. Things may have gotten a little heated.” He states.

Bucky, having started the car, chimes in as he makes it out of the driveway. “The idiot kept running his mouth and Stevie almost killed him for it.”

You look to your Alpha as warmth settles low in your belly. This man loves you so much that he almost killed a man just to protect you. You can’t help the sinful smile that spreads across your face.

Who knew defending your honor so fiercely was such a turn on. Could be instincts. Could be that your heat is so close. The reason why is of no matter. All you know is that you need to show your Alpha just how appreciative you are of his protection.

You hike your dress up and crawl into Steve’s lap. He tilts his head at the sudden change in your demeanor. A question clearly poised on his tongue. One that never gets to see the light of day as you lean forward and place a devastating kiss to his pillow soft lips.

You hum into the kiss, feeling your temperature rise, he pours the same amount of emotion into it as you have. You break away from the kiss and start praising your big strong Alpha for standing up for you. Pulling his hands up to your face and kissing his angry knuckles. Then sucking on his thick fingers like you would his cock.

You’re driving him crazy, and he just needs to feel all of you. He needs to remind himself that you are okay, and nothing will ever happen to you on his watch. With those quick reflexes you love so much, he spins his body and places you on the seat. Lowering himself down into the footwell, where he places sweet kisses to your thighs before ripping your panties off your body.

With a rumbly growl, he leans forward and begins feasting on your dripping pussy.

Glancing in the rearview mirror Bucky can’t help but point out his observations. “This seems vaguely familiar yet different all the same.”

Clearly, he is referencing the night you fully met the team for the first time. When you and Bucky were fooling around in the backseat on the way home while Steve drove. The night you first tasted Steve on your tongue.

Next thing you know you’re coming on Steve’s tongue. The orgasm was amazing but it’s not enough. So you proceed to pull your Alpha up by his disheveled hair. Your fingers waste no time unzipping his slacks and pulling his hardened cock out. “Please, Alpha. Need you inside me. Now. Want your knot.”

Once more he lifts you up and spins so that he is now seated with you hovering above him. “Then take it little Omega. It’s all yours.”

Slick is leaking down your thighs and your temperature is continuing it’s steady climb. You am more than ready to take his thickness. You notch his weeping head to your entrance and slide down his length with ease. He grips your hips as you begin to undulate above him. When his dick hits that sweet spot it’s all over for you.

Like an addict jones for a fix you make him graze it over and over again. It’s intense and hot as hell.

Poor Bucky almost drives off the road because he’s so turned on and keeps checking the rearview. He even cracks the steering wheel with his Vibranium hand.

Another orgasm is ripped from your body as you’re pulling up your driveway to the garage. Your spasming walls massage Steve’s girth, and he can’t help but pop his knot. He throws his head back as you continue to ride him until you collapse against his chest. Panting and locked together.

Steve kisses your forehead. “Hey little Omega, I know you’re feeling just as good as I am right now. But we have to get inside. Bucky is going to open the door and I need you to wrap those sexy legs around my waist for me. Can you do that, doll?”

You nod your head before burying it deeper in his neck. Being the amazing team that they are, having so much history together, it doesn’t take the Alpha’s much time at all to get you both out of the backseat.

Steve leads the way inside, with you wrapped tightly around his waist. The entire walk to the nest you’re a whiny needy mess. Begging to be filled with their pups. Telling them you don’t care about a wedding. That you just want to start your family already.

Clearly your heat has been triggered. And with how intense the sex in the car was you may have triggered their ruts as well.

You make it to your nest just as Steve’s knot has deflated enough for him to pull out and place you down gently. You immediately remove your dress and unclasp your bra. Letting it fall to the ground, before pulling Bucky forward and ridding him of the layers that are keeping you from his warm skin.

“Someone is very eager tonight? Is there something you wanna tell us, Omega?”

Instead of giving a verbal answer, you turn your back to them, kneel on all fours and present like a good little Omega.

“As good as you look presenting so pretty for me. I’m going to need to hear your words before we’re all lost to our hormones.” Bucky states. Always the stickler for consent. Something you very much love about him.

“Heat. My heat is here, and I need your knot Alpha mine.”

He grips the base of aching cock at your words. “And that’s exactly what you’re gonna get, Omega. Gonna keep our girl nice and full.” He lets his hind brain take over.

The haze setting in as he teases your cleft before thrusting to the hilt. Your pussy tightens around him immediately, setting off his need to breed you. To claim you from the inside out. To give you the pups you’ve been begging them for.

Everything else fades away as he goes to town on you while Steve recovers. Who takes the time, while his mind is till clear to make sure the room is set for your first heat/rut cycle in your new home.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve come. Lost in the feeling of pleasure and being so full. With a roar resounding through the air, you feel Bucky’s knot pop deep inside you. Locking you in place as his teeth sink into your mating mark and he fills your womb with the seed you so desperately crave.

Laying on your sides, you play with the metal fingers on his Vibranium hand. Placing it against your chest to help cool you down. Steve, having stripped himself, makes his way into the nest to join in on the cuddle puddle.

Your nose wrinkles as he get’s closer. “As hot as you defending my honor is. I think it’s time for a shower and for you to burn those clothes. They faintly smell like Caleb and that’s just a lady boner killer.”

“Wasn’t such a problem when you were riding my knot in the car.” Steve quips back.

“Momentary heat induced insanity. I’ve cum, therefore the scent must go.”

“Only if you come wash my back. Make sure there’s no trace of him left.” He counters.

“What do I get out of it?”

“A white wolf between your legs getting his fill.” Bucky stage whispers in your ear.

You bite your lip at the image his words provide. “Deal.”

#poc reader #avengers smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #alpha bucky x omega reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha buck x omega reader x alpha steve #abo au #abo dynamics

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godsfavdarling · 5 months ago

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stay a while

list of chapters, also available on wattpad and Ao3, my masterlist previous chapter --- next chapter pairing: Spencer Reid x Elle Greenaway summary: The team is in LA on a case. warnings: smut (no condom, she is on a pill), munch!spencer, spoilers for s1 obviously! words: 3,4k a/n: we are doing so good! don't you love being consistent? new chapter next week!

The team finally had a few days off after a grueling case, and the weather in D.C. was matching the mood - dark, rainy, and gloomy. Spencer sat in his apartment, staring at the rain cascading down his window, lost in thought. His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his reverie. It was a call from Elle.

"Hey, Reid," her voice came through warmly, a welcome break from the monotony of the rain. "How are you holding up?"

"Hey, Elle. I'm okay, just trying to figure out what to do with all this free time. You?"

"Same here. It’s pouring outside, so going out isn’t really an option. What are your plans?"

"Honestly, I haven’t made any. Just reading and catching up on some documentaries, I guess."

Elle chuckled softly. "Of course you are. Why don’t you come over?"

Spencer hesitated for a moment. "Come over?"

"Yeah," she replied. "We can watch a movie or something. It’s better than being alone in this weather."

He smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him at the invitation. "Alright, I’ll be there in a bit."

Not long after, Spencer stood outside Elle’s apartment, shaking off his umbrella before knocking on the door. Elle opened it almost immediately, pulling him inside. The moment the door closed behind him, she was on him, her lips capturing his in a fierce kiss.

Spencer responded, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. Their kisses grew more urgent, clothes quickly becoming a hindrance. Elle tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head, and Spencer followed suit, helping her out of her sweater.

Elle paused, her breath coming in soft pants as she looked up at him. "Do you wanna have sex?"

Spencer blinked, slightly taken aback. "Isn't that where this is going?"

Elle shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "I mean, do you want to actually have sex? You know, you putting your dick in me?"

Spencer's cheeks flushed, his breath hitching as she kissed his neck. "I... um... I've never really done it with a girl before."

Elle's lips moved to his chest, her hands roaming his back. "But you've had sex? With not a girl?"

"There was this guy, Ethan," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He was a lot of my firsts. But no, no girls so far."

Elle pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Do you want to?"

Spencer's heart raced. "Yes, but I'm not sure... I mean, I don’t want to mess this up."

Elle cupped his face, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's okay... We'll take things slow. We'll figure it out together."

He nodded, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Okay."

She smiled, leaning in to kiss him again, softer this time. "Just follow my lead," she whispered against his lips.

Spencer's hands found her waist, pulling her closer as their kisses deepened. Elle guided him to the bedroom, their clothes leaving a trail behind them. She laid him down gently, straddling his hips, her eyes never leaving his.

“Do you have condoms?”Spencer said, his voice a mix of desire and concern.

Elle paused, meeting his gaze. “I’m on the pill,” she replied, her tone reassuring. “Are you okay with that?”

He nodded, the tension between them shifting from caution to anticipation. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Yeah?” she asked, her lips brushing against his as she giggled softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The playful energy between them was electric, their laughter mingling with the heat between them.

Elle leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin. “Then let’s make this unforgettable,” she whispered, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Spencer's heart raced at her words, the anticipation building as he pulled her in for another passionate kiss, ready to lose himself in her.

She was above his hips, both of them bare, the warmth of their bodies mingling in the dim light. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him lightly, feeling him harden even more and twitch against her palm.

With a teasing smile, she shifted her already wet folds above his length, her eyes locking onto his. “Are you okay?” she asked softly, her voice laced with excitement.

He nodded, desire evident in his gaze, and urged her to continue.

Encouraged, she began to rub herself against him, feeling the heat of his skin against her folds. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she reveled in the sensation, the slickness between them building with every movement.

Spencer was driven wild by her grinding, his breath quickening as pleasure coursed through him while he watched his dick press to his stomach as Elle moved.

Elle took her time, savoring the moment, the way he responded to her every shift and roll. The tension between them mounted, electric and exhilarating.

Finally, feeling ready, she aligned herself with him and slowly lowered herself onto his length. A gasp escaped her as she felt him fill her, inch by delicious inch.

A wave of warmth and pleasure washed over her. She felt an intoxicating blend of fullness and intimacy.

He pulled her face to his. Their lips brushing and tongues dancing as she began to ride him. Her movements were slow and deliberate at first, a gentle exploration of their bodies together. Each rise and fall sent shivers of pleasure through them.

Spencer’s hands found her waist, guiding her as their breaths mingled and their bodies moved in sync. Elle lost herself in the moment, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of them, lost in each other.

Their pace gradually picked up, each movement filled with an intensity that brought them closer together. She felt every subtle shift and he kissed her and kissed her. Cupping her face in his hands he placed the kisses from her cheeks to her jaw to her neck and chest and his lips lingered there, breathing her in.

His hands gripped her hips again, guiding her rhythm as she moved her face to capture his lips once more. The kiss deepened, and he could feel the heat radiating between them, their bodies in perfect harmony. With each rise and fall, pleasure surged through them, building to a breathtaking crescendo.

Elle could sense the mounting tension, the way their breaths quickened and hearts raced. She found herself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. Spencer's gaze was intense, filled with a desire that matched her own, urging her on as she rode him harder.

Finally, the pressure within them reached its peak.

Elle's movements became frantic, driven by an insatiable need as she felt herself teetering on the edge. Spencer's breath hitched, and he whispered her name, the sound sending shivers down her spine.

With a final thrust, they both soared over the precipice, the waves of pleasure crashing over them in a euphoric tide.

Elle cried out softly, lost in the moment, as Spencer held her close, their bodies trembling together in the aftermath.

As the last echoes of their release faded, they collapsed into each other, breathless and sated.

Afterward, they lay intertwined under the covers, the sound of the rain still falling outside. Elle rested her head on the pillow, turned to Spencer, as he stared at the ceiling.

"That was... amazing," Elle murmured.

Spencer nodded, his fingers gently grabbing her hand. "Yeah, it was."

"I really needed that," she said softly.

Spencer glanced down at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "Needed what?"

"This," she replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Someone to fuck me."

Spencer's cheeks turned crimson, and he stammered, "I-I wouldn't think you'd have problems finding people who'd be interested..."

Elle chuckled, looking at him with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Is that your way of saying I'm attractive, Dr. Reid?"

"Well, yes," he said, still flustered but trying to gather his thoughts. "I mean, you are. Very attractive. I just... I never thought you would have trouble finding someone."

Elle smiled warmly, appreciating his awkward honesty. "Thanks, Spencer. But it's not always about finding someone. Sometimes it's about finding the… right someone."

Spencer nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. "I understand."

After a moment, he stood up, starting to gather his clothes. “I should get going…”

But Elle reached out, grabbing his hand gently. “Stay a while. Unless you have somewhere to be?”

He shook his head, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. “No, I don’t have anywhere to be.”

With a playful grin, she pulled him back into bed, their laughter filling the room once more. She leaned in, capturing his lips with hers, their tongues meeting in a dance as Spencer settled over her, the heat between them reigniting.

-------------------

As the team walked back to the hotel, the tension from the recent case began to ebb away. They had just arrested a woman who had been obsessively stalking actress Lila Archer. Spencer's hair was still a little damp from the incident at the pool, and the cool evening air made him shiver slightly.

Gideon and Hotch were ahead, discussing the logistics of transporting the suspect, while JJ and Morgan chatted about dinner plans. Elle and Spencer trailed a few steps behind, the silence between them thick and palpable.

Elle had been unusually quiet since the pool incident, and Spencer couldn't shake the gnawing worry that she had seen more than he'd hoped. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge her mood. He hoped she hadn't seen the full extent of what had happened with Lila. Or maybe it was better if she had; then she’d know that Lila had initiated the kiss and that he had just gotten caught up in the moment.

His thoughts raced, the urge to explain himself bubbling up, but he couldn't find the words. They weren’t dating, after all. They’d never discussed being committed to each other. "It’s just sex," Elle had said. But Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt. He didn’t want to hurt Elle in any way, but did she even care that he had kissed another girl? Either way, it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident.

He glanced at Elle again, her face unreadable as they walked. The guilt gnawed at him, making him wonder if she had seen more than him trying to clumsily get out of the pool. He hoped she knew he hadn’t intended for any of it to happen, that it was a moment of confusion and surprise. The idea of hurting her, even unintentionally, weighed heavily on his mind.

As they reached their respective rooms, the hallway was quiet, save for the soft murmur of their footsteps. Spencer lingered for a moment, his eyes still fixed on Elle. She noticed his gaze and turned to face him, a curious expression on her face.

"What?" she asked, her voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and weariness.

Spencer hesitated, searching for the right words but ultimately failing to find them. "Nothing," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. He offered a small, strained smile before turning and heading into his room.

Elle watched him go, a thoughtful look in her eyes. She shook her head slightly, as if to clear her thoughts, before entering her own room. The door closed softly behind her, leaving the hallway silent once more.

In his room, Spencer leaned against the door for a moment, exhaling deeply. The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. He moved to the window, staring out at the night-soaked cityscape. His mind raced with thoughts of Elle, of Lila, of the complicated web of feelings that seemed to entangle him.

After taking a long, hot shower, Spencer wrapped himself in a towel and ran his fingers through his damp hair. The steam still lingered in the air, a soothing contrast to the turmoil in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts, when a soft knock at the door startled him.

He hesitated for a moment, then walked over and opened the door. Elle stood there, her hair slightly damp and a robe wrapped loosely around her. Her eyes locked onto his, a determined expression on her face.

"Elle," Spencer began, but before he could say more, she stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

Without a word, she reached up and cupped his face, pulling him into a deep, urgent kiss. Spencer's initial surprise melted away as he responded, his hands finding their way to her waist. Their lips moved together with a fervor.

Elle guided him backward into the room, their mouths never breaking contact. She pulled down the towel around his hips and pushed him onto the bed, and he fell back, looking up at her with a mix of anticipation and wonder. With deliberate movements, Elle untied her robe, letting it fall to the floor and revealing her naked body.

Spencer's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her. She climbed on top of him, her body pressing against his as she kissed him again, this time with a slow, sensual intensity.

Their naked bodies melded together, skin gliding against skin. The softness of her curves pressed against his chest, the heat of her center brushing against him.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as Elle moved against him, her hips grinding gently against his. Spencer's hands explored her body, feeling her breasts against his fingers. He squeezed them gently, making Elle whimper and moan into his mouth. He repeated the motion, a thrill running through him at her response.

“Please don't stop that,” she moaned as he kneaded both peaks. With newfound confidence, he took her nipple between his fingers and squeezed gently.

“Oh, fuck,” Elle moaned.

The world outside ceased to exist as they lost themselves in each other again, the only sounds the soft gasps and moans that filled the room.

She took him into her hand and stroked him gently feeling his precum already escaping his tip.

Her eyes never left Spencer's as she guided herself onto him, just as she did a few days ago, a slow, deliberate movement that drew a gasp from both of them.

She felt him fill her, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating. She let out a soft moan, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as she began to move.

Spencer's hands settled on her hips, his touch gentle but firm, guiding her rhythm. He watched her through half-lidded eyes, the sight of her riding him sending waves of pleasure through his entire body. Elle's movements were slow at first, savoring every sensation, every inch of him.

As their pace increased, Spencer's breaths came faster, his fingers digging into her skin. Elle's moans grew louder, each one sending shivers down his spine. Her movements became more urgent, more desperate, as she chased her own pleasure while driving him closer to his.

After a while, Elle leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him up so they were chest to chest. The new angle sent a fresh wave of sensations through both of them, and Spencer's arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, holding her close. He could feel her heartbeat against his chest, matching the frantic rhythm of his own.

Elle's lips found his again, their kiss deep and passionate. She moved against him, their bodies in perfect sync. Spencer's hands roamed her back, feeling the flex and movement of her muscles. His lips trailed down her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat, the scent of her filling his senses.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered his name, her voice thick with need. Spencer responded with a low moan, his hands gripping her tighter, pulling her even closer.

Their movements grew more frenzied, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. Spencer's world narrowed to the feel of Elle's body, the sound of her moans, the taste of her skin.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, Elle reached her climax, her body trembling in his arms. Spencer followed moments later, the pleasure overwhelming him, his grip on her tightening as he rode out the waves of ecstasy spilling himself into her.

They stayed like that for a while, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Elle's head rested on Spencer's shoulder, her fingers gently stroking his hair. Spencer held her close, secretly hoping he could hold her forever.

Slowly, they pulled back just enough to look at each other. Elle's eyes were soft, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and something deeper. She smiled, a tender, intimate expression that made Spencer's heart swell with emotion.

"That was..." Spencer started, but words failed him.

Elle chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Yeah, it was," she agreed, her voice a whisper in the quiet room.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, savoring the closeness and the afterglow.

Afterwards, Elle finally stood up, reaching for her robe to head back to her room. Just as her feet hit the floor, Spencer moved quickly, kneeling on the edge of the bed. His hands found her waist, halting her movements.

"Stay a while," he murmured, his voice soft but urgent.

Elle looked down at him, her eyes questioning, but before she could say anything, Spencer leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to her stomach. His hands moved to her hips, then to her ass, pulling her closer. He knew he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was doing, but he hadn't had enough of her yet.

His kisses trailed lower, and he slid off the bed, kneeling before her.

Elle gasped softly, her hands instinctively finding their way to his hair. Spencer continued kissing her, his lips and tongue exploring her skin with a mix of curiosity and hunger. He guided her to sit down on the edge of the bed, his hands gentle but insistent.

Spencer’s eyes met hers for a moment, a silent question hanging between them. Elle nodded slightly, her breath hitching in anticipation.

He carefully lifted her legs, placing them over his shoulders as she lay down. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and desire, before lowering his mouth to her.

Elle's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as Spencer’s tongue made contact. He could still taste himself on her.

His movements were tentative at first, exploring, tasting. But as he found his rhythm, Elle's reactions guided him. Her moans grew louder, her fingers tangling in his hair, encouraging him to continue. She was so wet. Her and his arousal mixed together between the folds.

Spencer's hands gripped her thighs, his thumbs gently stroking her skin. He could feel her body responding to him, the way she trembled, the way her breath caught with every movement of his tongue. He was learning, adapting, driven by the need to make her feel as incredible as she had made him feel.

Elle's hips began to move, her body seeking more of the pleasure he was giving her. Spencer responded, his tongue and lips working more eagerly, more confidently. He could hear her moans, feel the way her legs tensed around his shoulders. Every sound, every movement, spurred him on.

Elle's climax built gradually, her body arching, her hands gripping the sheets.

He focused all his attention on her, determined to see her through to the end. When she finally came, her cries of pleasure echoed through the room, her body shaking with the intensity of it.

He continued to kiss her softly, his hands gently caressing her thighs as she came down from her high. He looked up at her, his face flushed, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection.

Elle reached down, pulling him up towards her, and their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

"That was amazing," she whispered against his lips, her voice breathless.

Spencer smiled, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "I'm glad," he replied softly, his hands still holding her close.

#why don't you come over #spencelle #elle greenaway #spencer reid x elle greenaway #reid x greenaway #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #elle greenaway smut #sub!spencer #sub spencer reid #dom elle greenaway #munch!spencer

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soleminisanction · 1 year ago

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The thing I keep coming back to, now that I've wrapped up the first part of "Batgirl, Repentant" and am starting to outline the second, is how much the book's hyper-focus on Steph hamstrings the story I think they're trying to tell.

I say I think because obviously I can't read the writers' minds so for all I know they taped the random lip service about hope and justice and fighting for the little guys onto the Stephanie-love-fest in a half-assed response to criticism, but I'm trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that when the first arc ends with:

And that gets followed up two issues later with Steph telling Damian:

I want to take them at their word that that's what they're going for. But it's not the story they tell at all because, for all the lip service paid, there's not a single plot point that actually backs those themes up. Every single narrative element is instead 100% oriented around Stephanie, her feelings, her desires, and her ambitions, none of which involve helping or protecting other people.

Batgirl's first appearance in issue 1 isn't about bringing hope or protecting anybody, it's about, "Ooooh, who is this mysterious new Batgirl who's such a badass but looked down on by The Man for being a little chaotic? Ta-da, it's Stephanie Brown!!"

When she talks about promises being made to her mom (by which of course I mean lies, she's just lying to her mother) or the supposed "promise" she didn't actually make to Tim Drake, it's all framed as unreasonable expectations that other people are piling onto Steph's shoulders, without so much as a second thought for how the person she supposedly made these promises to might feel.

When Cass leaves her the Batgirl costume, it's not with requests to carry on the legacy or protect Gotham in her absence or even to look out for Barbara, it's all about Cass's relationship with Bruce (as though that was ever her motivation!) and then "Now the fight is yours, Stephanie" while she vanishes into the rain in her underwear. Like Batgirl is a toy she's letting Steph have her fair turn with now that she doesn't want to play anymore.

When Steph thinks about the symbolism of the Bat and of Batgirl, it's not about how it can be a symbol of hope and protection in the darkness of Gotham, it's about how it makes her feel powerful. Even when she worries about messing up it's framed as, "Nothing I do ever ends well" and "It's just a matter of time before I get caught," not concerns about the harm her previous attempts that "didn't end well" wound up doing to other people.

And despite the fact that there's a riot going on in the next few pages, she's not inspired to go out and help with that, but to assist a single dumbass cop who got in over his head.

And then again when Babs shows up to chew her out in the next issue, it's all about Steph and her safety. "You already died" this and "You have a death wish" that. Barbara Gordon, the original Batgirl, only gets to talk about the symbolism of Batgirl as it relates to Stephanie Brown -- "Wearing that Bat on your chest might scare off the smaller thugs, but you're literally asking, no, begging for attention from more dangerous criminals. You're a mark for anyone who wants to make theirs."

Again, even the fact that she fucked up in the past and hurt people is framed around Steph -- "The last time you tried being helpful, you accidentally brought Gotham to its knees." And while Steph pays lip service to "doing this instead of sleeping" because she "thinks it's right," she doesn't ever elaborate on what exactly is "the right thing" she thinks she's doing, and it's not like she's gone out to protect people. You can't even argue, like you maybe could with the street race, that she's doing a flashy display to show ordinary people there's someone on their side -- she's beating up random goons in an isolated chop-shop.

Then of course there's the fact that nothing about Scarecrow's whole Thrill plot makes any sense because he's not being written with any kind of coherent villain motivation, it's all just being done to set up moments for Steph. Why do some of his goons decide to spike the punch at a random college party and then run away at just the right moment to make themselves look as suspicious as possible? Because Stephanie's going to be there and they need to hook her into that plot.

And when Steph argues with Babs later about why they should work together to solve this case, does she express concern about her classmates or her university, or even point out that Barbara isn't working with an on-the-street agent like she has in the past and hey, maybe you'd be a little less stressed if you had someone to share the load?

Nope. It's just "I'm just as much a part of it now as you are!"

To say nothing of my eternal, teeth-grinding frustration over Barbara's characterization. "I'm only being so hard on her because I'm jealous that she's Batgirl and I'm not anymore." Fuck all the way off, Bryan Q. Miller.

This whole thing is so bad that when you get to the climax of this arc -- when they've tracked Scarecrow and his goons to their creepy hospital lair -- the stakes aren't that anyone is in danger, or that there's any chance that Scarecrow might be able to escape in the next five minutes before the police arrive. In fact, if Steph's actual motivation was to make sure Scarecrow saw justice, it would've been a better strategy for her to stay outside watching the exits so she could jump him if he tried to make a run for it.

But she doesn't do that. Because the actual stakes for the climax of the first arc are that if she doesn't swing in and beat the shit out of Scarecrow right the fuck now, the police will beat her to it and then Stephanie won't get the credit for saving the day.

They even try to clumsily raise the stakes by implying that Scarecrow works for Black Mask, a plot point that goes absolutely nowhere because -- whoopsie -- Black Mask is dead at this point and has been since before Steph came back to life. He only ever showed up again as a Black Lantern in Blackest Night, at which point Ivy fed him to a plant.

(They did not fix this in the trade paperback version BTW, I checked)

There's some effort to turn Steph's fight with Scarecrow into something more by having him spout some weird nonsense about how he's controlling people with drugs because, "Nobody truly has a choice little girl" while she represents free will fighting back against attempts to take it away, but that's seriously hamstrung by the fact that writing is all over the place.

Like, at the start of Steph's big dramatic speech, she's all but arguing against the concept of free will, echoing an earlier classroom discussion I've bitched about before, saying that people (by which of course she actually means herself) stay when things get tough "Because we don't know how to do anything else."

But on the very next page she poses the question again and answers it with... frankly complete nonsense.

Because the point isn't actually 'control vs. free will', the whole thing -- all of the forced, misunderstood philosophy that fills out this entire arc -- is actually just repeating the same question Babs was asking earlier, this time in metaphor -- why does Stephanie keep throwing herself into danger, why doesn't she just quit?

And her answers, apparently, are, "because this is who I want to be" and "because I don't know how do anything else." Neither of which spare even a passing thought for anyone but herself, which is kind of a problem if you're trying to present Batgirl's mission statement as bringing hope to the people around her.

Then there's the bit about "facing your worst self," which refers to slightly before this, when Scarecrow drugs Steph with Thrill (a move that makes no sense in-universe because again, Scarecrow is only here to set up set pieces for Stephanie and has zero internal logic of his own). What Steph sees during that sequence is her ex-boyfriend and previous identity tearing her down and telling her that she's not good enough to be a superhero, which implies that her 'worst self' is self-doubt, or possibly "letting other people make you doubt yourself." Again -- all about her, with other people framed as nothing but obstacles to her happiness.

And just to remind you-- she has no actual reason to be here. She's not "saving the city," the city is not under threat. She's not doing anything heroic by throwing herself into this fight. She's only doing this because she wanted the credit for saving the day. That's the only stake the story ever establishes.

It's like there's this standing assumption that she must obviously want to be superhero for selfless reasons, therefore they don't need to bring that up ever and can just focus on how much she wants to be one and how noble it is that she's willing to fight through pain and hardship to be one.

But that's just not how it works? Maybe if you were still writing for the Golden Age when the storytelling was simpler and characterization was optional, but not in 2009. Part of the purpose of a solo book's first arc is to establish/re-establish the core hero's motivation and, if it's changed, explain how and why.

Just as a contemporary example -- Red Robin sends Tim Drake off on what's literally a personal quest and spends its first arc establishing how he's darker and more alone than he's ever been before... but it still opens with him rescuing a kidnapping victim, reaffirming that, whatever he's going through and whatever he has to do to accomplish his goal, he's still, at heart, a hero who will put his own needs aside to protect an innocent. That's also the role that Tam Fox essentially plays in the second arc, giving him someone to protect even when he's isolated from the normal push and pull of the DCU.

Whether you're approaching Batgirl (2009) as a new reader who's never met Steph before in your life, or as someone who read her previous material, there is nothing in this first arc, or those that follow, that establishes her motivation beyond, "I want to be Batgirl and I won't let anyone tell me no." She'll occasionally say she's being selfless and heroic, but it's not backed up by her actions or her thoughts.

Perhaps the most blatant self-contained example of this "It's all about Stephanie and obviously she's a perfectly selfless hero so we don't need to bother establishing it," mindset comes in the denouncement of the first arc. They recreate the vow in the dark -- not the most iconic scene in Batman history but still one that's well-known, a moment that goes all the way back to the first appearance of Robin, when Dick and Bruce vowed an "undying oath" to fight together against crime and corruption and never to swerve from the path of righteousness, symbolically committing themselves to act as a light in the darkness and protectors of the innocent.

Batgirl (2009) recreates this scene... by having Barbara vow to support Stephanie Brown and only Stephanie Brown in everything that she does "for as long as she wants it" so she "won't go out alone" and end up in a chair like Babs did. Meanwhile, Steph's response boils down to, "Oh yeah totes me too," because, according to the book, she doesn't need to take an oath, it's just completely self-evident that she's already made her right choice and will obviously continue to do the same forever and ever, no doubt about it.

Two extra little details scattered throughout:

Through the entire series, Steph is constantly doing this obnoxious humble-brag thing of, "I'm Stephanie Brown, and I'm just a normal girl tee-hee" over images of her doing badass Batgirl things that are obviously supposed to be ironic, and she always uses her full name. The trade paperback version is literally called, "Batgirl: Stephanie Brown" because there's nothing else to say about this story. Tim Drake: Robin didn't use his full name this much and it was actually in the title.

And that's not even getting into how often they waste entire pages on splash images of just... Stephanie. Not Stephanie doing anything special, just, Stephanie, and we're supposed to be very awed and impressed by her because she's Stephanie Brown and she's Batgirl now wowie wow wow.

That one tiny little caption box in the upper-left corner of the last page of the storyline? That's literally the first and only time that the concept of "Batgirl makes sure everyone gets home to see tomorrow" is ever mentioned.

This his is all just the first storyline. This same pattern continues on into the rest of the book, only getting worse as they add in other Batfamily member guest-stars for Steph to show up and prove wrong, and stock civilians who do nothing but shower her with praise and adoration. The tiny little sprinkles they offer up of, "Oh yeah I'm doing this to bring hope to the people of Gotham!!" just don't compare to deluge of "Steph gets to be Batgirl because she wants to be Batgirl, that makes her the coolest motherfucker on the planet, and if you disagree you must be sexist."

---

TL;DR (and sorry this got so long) -- Bryan Q. Miller et. al seem to be either under the impression (or want to give the impression) that they're telling the story of Stephanie Brown, the plucky young girl who never gave up on her dream of being a superhero no matter the haters or setbacks she faced, and how seeing her succeed despite being so average and relatable inspires other average people to have hope and fight for a better tomorrow.

But the story they actually tell is of Stephanie Brown, a teenage girl utterly obsessed with becoming a superhero to the exclusion of all else, including her own well-being, future, and relationships with her friends and family, apparently just because she likes the way it makes her feel, has no self-control and can't imagine herself doing anything else, who is applauded and cheered for this by everyone she meets, save for a small handful of haters who are just there to be proven wrong, beaten up, or both.

The first could've been a good-ish story -- ish, because it doesn't actually engage with Steph's previous characterization, but that's a different post -- but it's just not the story they told.

#stephanie brown #batgirl #batgirl 2009 #batgirls #dc comics #dc #batman #meta #comics meta #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #hmmmm I wound up spending all day on this whoops #ah well it was a sick day and I needed to get it out of my head #there are worse reasons not to move for eight hours

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