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manicpixiefelix · 1 year ago

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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 7.

Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable

A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.

It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.

But there was something different about yesterday.

"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.

Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.

"Maybe." Unhelpful.

"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.

"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.

"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.

"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."

"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."

"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.

"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.

"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.

"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -

"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.

"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.

"You're hot too, Farleigh -"

"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.

Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.

And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.

Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.

"So -"

"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.

Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.

And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.

Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.

He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.

He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.

He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.

When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.

Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.

Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -

"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -

"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.

Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.

It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.

It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.

More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.

Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.

Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.

There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.

"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.

"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.

"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.

"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.

"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.

"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.

"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.

"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.

"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.

"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.

"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.

"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.

"That's different -"

"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.

"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.

"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.

Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.

Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.

But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.

Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.

Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.

Fuck.

No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.

But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.

"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.

Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.

"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.

"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.

"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.

"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."

"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."

He's never been inside your room at night.

It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.

"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -

He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.

"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."

Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.

You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."

"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.

"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."

"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."

"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.

"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.

"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"

"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.

"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.

When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.

"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”

"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."

This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.

"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.

"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.

"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -

Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.

But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.

"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.

"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."

"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.

"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.

"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.

Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.

"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.

"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.

"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.

You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.

When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.

"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.

"Ollie~"

For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.

"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.

But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.

How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.

When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.

There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.

But it doesn't last.

It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.

Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.

"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?

"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.

"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.

"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.

Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.

"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."

"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.

"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.

"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.

"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -

"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."

Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.

"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."

"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;

"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.

Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.

"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.

You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.

"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.

"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -

"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."

But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.

Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.

"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.

In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.

"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.

"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.

There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.

"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -

"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.

Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-

"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.

"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"

"It's disgusting, Felix."

"It's fine."

"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.

Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.

Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.

That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.

In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.

"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.

"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"

Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?

Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.

Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.

"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.

"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.

A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.

Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.

With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.

And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #head heart hand fic #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #felix catton smut #oliver quick smut #saltburn smut

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gothamite-rambler · 1 month ago

Text

The Batgirls on their Periods at the Same Time

Context: This is probably some ooc and if that bothers you just scroll on by. It's cool, silly fics like this depicting the batfamily in this manner isn't for everybody but don't leave hate comments if this bothers you. This is posted here because it's more shorter and just feels like it would work here 😊 Oh and I wrote this while on my period. We go through out periods in different ways. The batgirls and batwoman are expys of that and this is how the male members of their family handle it. This is for all my girlie pops that have to deal with this curse. Let's dive in!

Dick (walking over to Barbara): Hey, Barb, you sent me a few angry texts. Did I make you mad about something I'm unaware of?

Barbara (seething): Yes! Remember that triple chocolate cake I had leftover? You’d better buy me a new one!

Barbara deliberately rolled over Dick's foot while muttering an impressive assortment of curse words.

Dick (complaining): Ow! You said I could have it!

Barbara (voice filled with the fury of a thousand angry souls): Lies! Get me a new one, or I'm ignoring you for the rest of the day, including during comms tonight! You greedy ass! Hold off on the sweets, fat ass!

Dick (furrowing his brows, angry): Fat ass? Rude! Jesus over some cake? I'll buy you another one... after I ice my foot. You freakin’ jerk.

Barbara (over her shoulder with a smirk): Cake thief!

Tim silently listened to the argument while he sat at the kitchen table. Dick sat down, rubbing his sore foot.

Tim (confused): Hm... Have the girls been acting… a little on edge lately?

Dick (hesitating): I hadn’t really noticed until my foot became a casualty. What have you seen?

Tim: Barbara seems to be irritated with everything around her and Stephanie has been eerily quiet and distant today, which is unlike her. Bruce asked her if she wanted to patrol a different part of Gotham, and she just growled at him... which is close to how she usually acts.

Dick: Hm… that's odd.

Just then, Stephanie Brown trudged into the kitchen, wearing an oversized shirt and jogger pants, looking like she had just escaped from some form of medieval torture.

Stephanie (almost a whisper): I’m watching cat videos. Don’t bother me and let Duke know I'm really sorry for the many hurtful words I said.

Tim (coolly while stirring his tea): He said it's fine and he'll return in a few days.

Stephanie nodded with an understanding 'mm-hm'.

Stephanie: Oh and tell Bruce I’m covering the other part of town tonight, just need to be wrapped in blanket for next few hours.

Tim (nodding): You got it, bestie.

Stephanie grunted a 'thank you' and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Tim: She hasn’t snapped at me too much.

Dick (worried): Hm… wait, wait, wait... Duke left? This isn’t the time, is it?

Tim (tilting his head): Time for what?

Dick (leaning in dramatically): No, no, no- Wait, we might be in the clear if Cass and Kate don't have there's.

Tim (looking confused): Have what?

Dick: You poor summer child.

Dick sighed, shaking his head, while Tim shrugged nonchalantly, blissfully unaware of the tale as old as time: period sync-up.

---------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Jason heard a knock at his door. He opened it to find his older sister, Cass, standing there, wringing her hands nervously. She bit her lip, a worried expression on her face.

Cass (waving quickly): Hi, Jason.

Jason: Hey, Cass. Everything okay? You seem stressed.

Cass (bashfully): Do I? Yeah, um, my… Aunt Flo is visiting, my caregiver never took the time to- I hate when she visits, but I need to go to the store for supplies… I don’t want to go alone. You’re the only one I trust to take me.

Jason (confused): You don’t have an Aunt Flo, and what supplies do you need to meet her?

Cass (frowning): Oh… oh dear, you don't get it. Um, my crimson tide… has arrived?

Jason: Crimson… what now?

Cass (losing patience): My period is on! I need to buy tampons or pads before I bleed and ruin my sheets again! I'm literally wearing the last tampon, Selina is on vacation-

Jason (covering her mouth): All right, got it! The message is crystal clear now. Okay, stand there, I’ll grab my keys.

As Jason went to his living room to get his backpack, Cass stepped inside, surprised he’d actually agreed to take her to the store.

Cass: Wait, you’re not… weirded out by this?

Jason: I’m friends with Artemis. I’ve seen things, it makes me squeamish at times, but that might be because I've never went through it... thank God. Austen can keep watch while I'm gone.

Austen the cat meowed to confirm that as he rested in a carboard box.

Jason (heading outside): Now let’s get you those supplies.

Cass clapped eagerly, following Jason to his car, clearly relieved.

-----------------------------------

Back at Wayne Manor, Dick waited for his father to pick up while Tim sat in perplexed silence.

Dick (calling Bruce): Bruce, are the girls on their periods?

Tim (gasping dramatically): Oh, that’s what it is!

Dick (clearly irritated): Jesus Christ, Tim. Duke figured it out!

Tim (defending himself): I've been distracted lately.

Bruce (calm): Hm… that explains why Stephanie snapped at me and why Barbara cussed me out… I’m a little too familiar with that sort of thing. I don't blame Duke for taking a week off, he texted me earlier about that. So yes, they definitely are. Cass is probably on board for that ride too. Women can sync up with their menstrual cycles like a well-oiled machine.

Kate's laughter could be heard in the background along with Bruce groaning.

Tim (stammering): How does he-- Bruce, how do you know that?

Bruce (slightly uncomfortable): Selina is very informative… and Harley is a treasure trove of knowledge. Trust me, you learn a thing or two. Just go easy on them, and they won’t bite your head off. You didn’t do anything to tick them off, did you?

Dick (ice pack firmly planted on his foot): ... I may have done something to make Babs upset.

Tim (grinning proudly): I have not, so I’m doing good!

Bruce: Well, like I said, don’t do anything else stupid, Dick.

Dick: I’ll try not to.

----------------------------------

With that, Bruce ended the call, sighed, and turned to his cousin Kate, aka Batwoman, who sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

Bruce: And then there’s you.

Kate (coolly): Yeah, just going to ignore me? No mention of the four-way sync-up?

Bruce: I’m ignoring a lot right now especially involving you. I’m a master at many things—women syncing menstrual cycles is not one of them.

Kate (nodding sagely): Trust me, women don’t get it either.

Bruce: Let’s at least get you your monthly period supplies.

Kate (squirming): Could you not call it that?

Bruce (mockingly): Could you be actually prepared next time and not drag me out of work?

Kate (swiping her hand like a cat): Ooh, catty? Maybe you’re on your month as well.

Bruce (chuckling dryly): You’re hilarious, let me tell ya.

Kate: I cope with humor. Now get out of the car. Also, you’re buying me lunch today.

Bruce (sardonic): Oh, fantastic. I definitely wanted to treat you while you’re on your period. Now, let’s get your supplies before you fashion a makeshift cape out of my car seat.

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agirlwholovesrockstars · 9 months ago

Text

careless whisper

♡ STEVE HARRINGTON'S MASTERLIST ♡

❁ AGATHA'S MAIN PAGE ❁

You can read this as it is but if you wanted more from this, here's a sequel "Baby Come Back"

﹆ Summary : you loved him with all your heart but he became unfaithful and there's nothing that he can do to mend it, is it really your last dance together?

﹆ Word Count : and again hoping it's not that too long for y'all

﹆ Warnings : 18+ MDNI‼️KingSteve! x FEM!reader, cursing, Steve and reader are both (18), unprotected sex, p in v penetration, both oral receiving, SMUT‼️, slight public sex I guess?, Steve will be so oblivious with readers feelings, cheating, unrequited love, friends to lovers, emotional abuse, tolerating, no use of y/n, not going to give any spoilers in here but beware that this will be ANGSTY!

﹆ What to Expect : SMUT‼️, FLUFF‼️, ANGST‼️, Steve and reader are the IT couple on Hawkins High, of course- by the term "King Steve" you know what that means, sorry ✌🏻

﹆ Note To Reader : Y'ALL BABY'S FIRST EVER STEVE HARRINGTON FIC!!!! AHHHHH <3 I'm so excited to spill all of my ideas about my first ever fave character from the show! and yeah I also apologize that I chose to do angst first 😔🤚🏻

﹆ Author Note : this is literally one of my favorite songs from George Michael and don't come at me, okay?!? I was just listening to this song and I was like why is this so Steve coded?!? AND YUP IT CLICKED AN IDEA!!!! ;))

Present : Prom 1984

"How are you holding up?" He asks as he tries to look at your eyes but you're avoiding it

"Been alright" you say as you look at him very briefly, your touches with him as you both swayed in the dance floor it felt different

His heart sunk when you couldn't even look into his eyes in the same way again

The eyes that are once so dreamy when you both locked in

He can tell that you're still moving on from him

He can tell that your eyes speaks louder than words

He can tell that you're still hurting because of him

Past : He shouldn't had an affair with someone else

"Diana, she isn't-"

"I know"

Steve is staggered as he swallows nervously in front of you, he wishes to be sucked down deeply on the floor and never to be seen again

He's ashamed for himself

He doesn't understand the meaning and the idea of love until it hits him like a block of bricks

And it hit really hard to the point that right after he slept with the other woman that night after the party that you both went out

He realized he made a mistake

A huge mistake that "sorry" can never undo the damage to what he has been done

Once the trust is broken it can never be fixed

You know he had a choice not to choose to cheat on you

But you laugh in disbelief as you think about it

Oh, right, he's King Steve

He doesn't know feelings and wants to keep his title to stay relevant

"W-Wait, you knew?"

"Everybody at school knows about it, Steve" you tried your very best to mask your pained expression but he can see it

The look on your face pierces right through his chest as he gulps

You have every right to be mad at him

You have every chance to shout and yell at him

But you didn't....

You talk so cold like it doesn't even matter to you

He darts his eyes everywhere in the room as he spoke again "After all this time?"

You sigh tiredly "Yeah"

He shook his head at you as he couldn't believe what you just said

"How? H-How you look-"

"What- I look what?!"

"You look...fine"

You incredulously laugh "Of course, I've had to Steve, we both got a title to keep it stable, right?" You reply to him in a mockery way as he averts his eyes somewhere else

"If you knew then why are you still with me?"

You frown at his words as you take all the courage to not breakdown at him, to not show him that you're weak but you failed since....

You love him too much that it's okay if you break apart from him

"Because I love you, Steve! Why don't you get that?!?"

Your chest heaves heavily as you try to control your breath as you cried angrily but also filled with sadness and frustration

Steve gasps, the moment you snap at him and saw you for the first time like this

You've never showed your side of vulnerability, yes, you've told him a couple of glimpses of your life but never this

Now, his eyes burned with forming tears as he tries to close his mouth in shock

You loved him? No one has ever loved him truly before

"I loved you so much that I play pretend so I can keep you!" You hiccupped into your own tears

"I loved you too" he said it out loud before he can stop himself, you saw how his eyes widens when he realizes what he just said

It's like a record scratch, you stare at him with your tear-stained cheeks as you studied his face

You blink, "What?!?"

"I've been drawn to you ever since we we're friends"

"S-Steve" you shift on your stance

"You're the only friend that I've ever had, who knows me better than I do"

You throw your palms on your face as you continue to sob

You're both dating for almost 2 years but why does he have to betray you to make him realize that he is in love just like you?

"Is this true?" You quietly say as you wipe away your tears

"Yes, it is" he walks closer to you but you moved away giving him the signal that you don't want him to hold you

"I-I tried to ignore the signs before that I thought maybe you- you just wanted this for to gain something"

What the fuck?

"Is that all really matters to you? Steve? don't you even think about how much I've suffered to maintain my sweet-like personality whenever we walked in the hallways?!?"

He thought maybe if he confessed his true feelings to you, everything will go back to normal

But it doesn't....

Not even the truth will bring the both of you comfort

Pain is all there ever is

"I've wanted to scream and I'm so tired to act like everything is okay, I really really wanted us to last, Steve"

"Turns out it was just only me who wanted to have a future with you"

The words just rolls out of your bitter tongue and it's a punch to his gut

"N-No, that isn't true" he begs

"You lost me, Steve, you had your chance and you blew it" you sniffle

Before he can say anything, you left him alone in his house as his eyes are still glued at the closed door hoping that you'll come back

But you never ever did

Future : if only he's loyal to you this wouldn't happen

You endured every single thing that his friends talked about you

Talked about, you're not fit into their world

Saying that "she doesn't belong here" but you didn't care because why?

You loved him

You love Steve Harrington despite what everyone else says

You don't care about titles

You don't care about these social cliques

You just wanted to have good friends and well, maybe love

Everybody adored you at school saying that you're the sweetest and kindest popular girl, it's actually rare for them to have those qualities because most of them are fucking assholes

You even overheard some other people like how did you even get into this situation?

Back in 1982, you're a new kid at school and you somehow manage to get into King Steve's heart without any hassle

You wished you've only stayed as friends

So, this wouldn't have hurt this much

"Steve!"

"What?"

"You know I'm ticklish!"

"I don't know" he feigns innocence and he still continues torturing you into your side as he towers over you as you lay at the grass with a blanket on his backyard

"Stop!" You say with a breathy laugh

He chuckles when you pout at him holding the both of his wrists "Okay, okay"

There's a moment that both of you halted over your silliness at each other

He never felt anything like this before

His heart is beating so loud that he could hear it throbbing on his ear

Your eyes went everywhere to his face

He is absolutely so beautiful up close like this

You're the first one to break the whatever that was

He nods as he runs his fingers through his hair as he watches you

He is so thankful that he has someone like you

You've never judged him, you let him know that emotions are valid that he can always count on you

You comforted him on his darkest days, you're the sunshine that help him to forget his absent parents

You feel so sorry for him when he told you he's alone most of the time in his enormous house

Yeah, maybe he's wealthy but he did not once felt happy until you came along

You're like an angel, he knows that he made the right decision to sit next to you at English Class, that's where it all began your newfound friendship

A part of him is afraid at that time you might back out if you found out that he's King Steve and his reputation at school

He is surprised that you didn't knew anything about him and that gives him a relief

After everything crashed down, now, you wished you knew all about him that's how he thinks about love

It's all just fun and games to him

You cursed at yourself for being so lovesick

A smile grows on his lips as watches you ate cherries on the vanilla milkshake that he make for you, it's your favorite

The whipped cream went on the sides of lips as you take a sip from the straw

He swiped it using his thumb and you blushed at his sudden action

He licked it off clean as you watch him

He catches you staring, there's a unreadable gleam on your eyes that he didn't not quite understood yet

Steve can't even register that he's moving closer to you and you froze as you hold your milkshake tightly as he cradles your cheek

He runs his tongue over his lips as his eyes stare at your rosy lips

He moves inches closer and your breath hitches, your mouth is slightly open as you look at him

He gave you one last look before he dive in

Your lips are now connected to his as he pulled you closer to him, he snatches your milkshake away as he puts it down as you start squirming and shut your eyes as you throw your arms around him

He smiles through the kiss as he deepens making you moan and his heart flutters at the sound of it, your hand crawls through his perfectly styled hair and he made a guttural groan at your move as you tug it slightly

His hands went at your waist as he squeezes it, the touch is overwhelming and your skin feels on fire everytime he grabs and graze his fingertips under over your clothed body

He slowly made you lay down beneath the blanket as you spread your legs to position himself on top of you

Your heart had never been this so fast, he tilts his head over the side as you yelp when his hands went under your skirt he starts toying with the garter of your panties, he smirks through the kiss

He cuts off your heated make out session as he removes his shirt and his eyes widens when you chase his lips as he pecks on it, you blink at his bared chest as you became flustered yet again, your fumbled panicky with the buttons of your blouse but he halted you as you let him undress you

It reveals a red lacy bra as he wolfishly whistles and you playfully slapped his chest as you duck your head down in a shy manner

God, why you gotta be so adorable?

He uses his index finger and his thumb to lift your chin to make you look at his gaze as you finally take him in

His cheeks are flushed, his hair is a mess and both of you are matching the same looks

The look that he's giving you, it's enough to make your mouth run dry and the wetness is pooling between your red lacy underwear

It doesn't take him too long to kiss your lips once again as he rises up slowly to undo his belt and his pants along with his boxers

He unclasps your bra as he throws on the side doesn't really matter where it lands as your hands when back onto your skirt to unzip it as you shimmy down and put it away

He reaches at your red lacy underwear but the moment he struggles to get it off, he starts to get impatient he snaps it just right about where your knees making you squeal

"I'll get you a new one, don't worry, baby" he growls as his hot kisses went everywhere on your chest and you can tell that he is hesitant to touch you

He doesn't even know if you wanted this but as if you can read his mind, the second thoughts were erased as you told him

"Steve, it's okay, you can touch me"

You breath heavily with his kneading your breasts as he plants smearing marks on your neck hitting that sweet spot making you mewl

He pats your thigh as a signal to wrap it on his hips

He holds your waist aggressively you know it will be bruised and it turns you on even more

You gasp as you can felt his tip intruding your tight hole as you can feel him entering smoothly along with your juices and arousal

It doesn't even needed a lubrication, he is drenched because of you

"Jesus Christ, y-you're dripping wet" he grunts as he watches your cunt devouring him as he can see your eyes fighting to stay open

He smirks as he fills you all the way up, you throw your head onto the side as you bit down your bottom lip

"S-Steve, please move"

He is so big to make you scream as you finally adjusted to his size and felt comfortable with pain and pleasure

He puts the other leg down as he lifts the other one as he puts over his shoulder and pulls you down closer to him that earned a whimper from you

He starts rutting in and out slowly, he hasn't even done anything and yet, it's driving you crazy

The squelching noises, the slamming back and forth with his slow pace as you start clenching around him

"Goddamn it, baby, you gotta stop doing that" his mouth is hanging open and already knows what heaven feels like

This is heaven

He doesn't ever want to leave

"M-Move f-faster" you stuttered between soft moans as you pawing at his hairy covered chest as he begins to go rough on you

Your hand flew over as you slapped and covered your mouth as your breasts start to jiggle from his movement, he tear off your hand as he pins it down

"Don't be shy on me, I wanna hear you loud and clear"

You whine and arched your back as he start to held both of your arms to go along with his neck as he pulls you even more further making him go deeper inside of you as you throw your head back and you gave him his wishes

You moaned beautifully as he devilishly smirks as he kisses you again but this time is filled with lust and teeth began to clash

Your whole body feels lumpy as both of you went back down as he raises both of your arms over the top of your head as he pounds at you placing kisses all over your face

You watch him down below as he fucks you ramming his way so easily

Your eyes rolls back as your high pitched moans went "ah-ah-ah" he feels so fucking great to hear those coming out of you because he's the one that made you feel like this

"So tight, baby, you're killing me"

"S-Steve, don't sto-p"

You wrap your legs around him as you tangle at him along with his body to push him down

"Oh shit!" he exclaims as his eyes darkens

You giggle but the time when he fingers touched your clit and you shudder

"Not so funny are we now, baby?" He bullys your clit earning a lewd noises falls from your lips

You nod at him pathetically as you matched his movements making him chuckle darkly

He lets go of your hands as he hooks his hand under your knees as he sheathes himself inside of you

You started babbling at him saying "S-Steve- fuck! That's it right there!" You shouted out loud but not without a moan

Yes, this is what he wanted

Let the neighbors hear you that he's the one who giving you this sweet pleasure

He thrusts as you shake your head begging for a release

"Yes, baby, I know, just let it go, I got you"

"ah-Steve!-oh"

You moan wildly as you chant his name as you came undone

He spills his load painting your flesh walls white

Your legs are trembling and you're shaking badly as he lazily smile as his spent body went boneless on top of you

You embrace him with your warmth along with your tangled legs as you kept him in place

His eyes go big when he realizes he had done something, you felt him became tense as you hold him softly by his shoulder blades

Despite, the fiery sex that you just both had, you're still in that haze but you remembered that both of you just did that on his backyard is making you feel fuzzy

He carefully rips himself off of you as he start scrambling to get on with his boxers

You immediately missed his scent on you

You furrow your brows as you watch him run off with that worried look on his eyes

You didn't have the time to wear your discarded clothes as you chose to grab his towel that is hanging around the lounge chair that he uses when he wants to take a dip from his swimming pool, you covered it with your naked body

"Steve! Wait- what is it?" You asked him with concern his heart feels booming inside of his chest by the tone of your voice

You really did care about him

This is all too good to be true

You followed him as he moves the sliding the door as he went outside he stopped once he's in there

You stare at behind his back and insecurities are now lurking in the shadows

Did he regret it?

Just run off and never look back save yourself from rejection

But you didn't instead, you touched his shoulder softly as he melts with it, you call out to his name again, you swore you heard him crying

He slowly turns his body around facing you and now you met Steve's eyes with threatening tears that are about to fall

"O-Oh my god, Steve? Are you okay?- Tell m-"

"W-We didn't use protection- and I-" he croaked up in his own tears

"I came inside of you and I didn't even asked you first that if you wanted this to happen" he motions at the two of you and you can see the guilty look from his eyes as he rests his forehead against with yours

Your eyes softens as it starts become glossy

Did he ruin your friendship?

Did he broke the last precious thing that meant a lot from him?

"Steve, it's fine, I've wanted you to"

His blinked the tears away just to see your face clearly

"Y-You wanted it?" He says as he holds your hands raising it closer to his face as he kisses it

You take a deep breath through your nose as you brave enough to confess your feelings

"I wanted you more than as a friend, Steve"

The swallows the lump on his throat as his chest eases out from tension

"The truth is that I love you, Steve" a fallen tear as you smile at him

Your eyes are shining with so much affection that he doesn't have before and it scares him

He shakes his head in disbelief as he watches you hug him

"You don't have to say anything, I just wanted you to know that I do, I am really in love with you"

He squeezes his eyes shut to your words as he hugs you tightly as he rests on the crook of your shoulder

He finally got what he wanted all of his life

Until, he realizes it was too late

He was too late for him to figure it all out, when you finally made up your mind that you want him in the first place

You loved him too early, he loved you too late

Aftermath : you can't ever lie to yourself that you still want him after how he treated you harshly

As much as you wanted to cling on to him and keep things the way they were

You know what's best for you

You know it's the right thing to do

You know deep down to your soul that you don't want this to end

But this is all too much for you, too much for you to bear

The agony, pain, sorrow, disappointment, heartache, if you continue this, you will be miserable

You want it keep it going, hell, if he asked you to marry him, you would, fuck, he might not even finished saying the lines, you will say "yes" to everything

But his heart is elsewhere, his mind is remains afloat

You got your heart and your soul devoted to him, you gave your most sacred value, your body

Only to be wasted to be washed away down the drain

But still, you've never regret doing it to him,

But no matter what you do, no matter how many times he apologizes to you, sure, you can see it that he despised his fault for your failed relationship

It isn't feel right and it isn't working

You can't see and look at him in the same way before, all you can see is....

It's deceitful, it's making you so angry but you will never show how hot-headed you are

Because, yet again, you loved him, no matter how you wanted to scratch his face out of madness

He is intimidated by your whole sense of nonchalant micro expressions but he knows behind that mask

You're upset

You know it yourself that you've done everything that you could ever give to him

You conclude in your own thoughts alone that you aren't enough for him

There might be sprinkle of insecurity that you wanted to brush it off but that's what you feel

You supported him, take care of him, you've been a good listener, you've been a loving girlfriend of his that in other people lenses

You're just an eye candy

Now, you understand what you've gotten those sympathetic eyes on you at school

Because this is all what comes down to....

You're just another girl that he got himself a jackpot to his prize

Just another trophy to his collection that he just....slept with you and he'll do it again after to the next girl that he got eyes targeted

Despite at how brutal that sounds

You will always love him

Back to Prom 1984

You can feel everyone's eyes on the both of you

You're dancing together at the center of the dance floor

They knew about you and Steve's relationship and the infidelity that he has done

They knew about the bond that is going to fall apart

Steve thought that the music is far from being too loud, he is getting overwhelmed by it, he wants to turn it off and leave the premises with you where he feels safe

Now, he is slipping off with your delicate fingers, the only sanctuary that he has ever given and he knows that he is fucking lucky to have you

He wished that the both of you could lose this crowd

"Let's go outside"

"N-No, S-Steve- No"

He ignores your protests and he tugs at your hand leading you out of the dance floor as he tries to scrape you off your feet and dragged you outside

The students starts whispering all around

He is surprised that you let him hold you

You let him intertwined your hands with his

He pushes you outside first slowly and he closes the door behind him, the music blurs out

You wrap your arms around yourself the night chilly air hits your delectable skin as the fairy lights from the streets makes you look glowy

He sadly sighs as he finally had the chance to look at you like this again

This is the only time that he saw what's in your eyes, god- is this what he trying to dodge? what is he thinking? all he wanted is to punch himself for cheating on you

All he can see the remnants of your undying love to him on your eyes but also mixed with a cloud of gloominess

He fucked up big time

He removes his coat as he tries to give it to you

"I don't want your coat" you step away as you sternly look at him

He ignores again, your remark as he places his coat around you

"What should I do to gain back your trust, please tell me" his hazel eyes pleads for you and your eyes burning from the tears forming

Your chest tightens, you don't want to have this conversation again

You know it'll ended up so raw and you feel exposed by your feelings and the worst case

The transparency of your emotions

The seconds as he awaits for your reply, the music from the gymnasium dies

You look at him that he doesn't ever wanted to see

It terrifies him horribly as he begins to cry in front of you as you did too

"Oh, god- please no" his voice starts breaking and your heart shattered at the sound of it

He knows exactly the meaning behind your melancholic eyes

It's all sad goodbyes

"Steve, maybe it's better this way" you say as you held his cheeks as he presses himself against it at the palm of your hands as he kisses it

"No, it's not-"

He knows that you aren't a fool to this any longer, he knows what's about to happen but he can't help but beg for you to not leave him

You rip your hand out of his cheeks as he already misses your touches

You hated how fast you feel powerless over him whenever you talked to him like this

You hated how easily that he can get to touch like nothing happened

But, not this time, not anymore

You're trusting your gut, you listen to your inner voice

"Steve! If we pick up where we left off, we'd just end up hurting ourselves and it will hurt a lot more of the things that we wanted to say to each other"

"Don't say it like that- I promise that'll be better, I'll prove it to you"

You slam your lips over his and he can't help but feel the same butterflies on his stomach that he once ignored, you kissed him like it was your last breath

There's a voice inside of his head that says he something is bad is about to happen

God, if he could only turn back the time and he'll make things right

"Don't let this get over with your head, I am giving you one last dance, one last touch and one last kiss"

"N-No, please- don't let go-"

"I'm saying that this is goodbye, Steve"

"W-We could've have been so good together, we could've have this dance forever"

You smile sadly, "I wish you thought about that before you crossed me" he watches you as you take off his coat from your shoulders

Your heels hits the pavement as it starts clicking as you walked away from him

He chases you as he hugged you from behind, you breakdown in tears again, he rests his head over your shoulder as he sniffled

"Please stay"

"You will always have my heart, you know it belongs to you ever since, Steve, and I'm always going to love you, but I have to go" you caressed his hand as you remove yourself from him as you take a look at him one last time

"I love you Steve Harrington, thank you for giving me how betrayal feels like" you humorlessly chuckle as he runs his hands over his face, he keeps shaking his head sideways

You kissed his cheek as he watches you with those tired eyes, of course, you can notice everything, the dark circles surrounding his eyes

He hasn't gotten any sleep like you do

He can't sleep properly because of you

His mind and his heart screams at you

He wants you back on his life, but now, he's alone again

He hates himself and he knows what he did is unforgivable and unforgettable

"I'll miss you, take care okay?" You choke in your own tears as you fixed his hair for the last time, the kind gesture that he always admired, he can't believe that this is the last time

He holds both of your shoulders "I can't never love again, I only want you"

Your heart cracks piece by piece to his words

The time is running out, you need to move

"If you really love me you have to let me go, Steve"

He begrudgingly loosens his hold on you as he watches you walking towards your car, his eyes are fixated on you and you know it

You badly wanted to look at him again, but you decided against it, you don't even wanna leave him like this but it had to be done

He cries standing all alone on that night

You cried while driving home as your knuckles turn white as you grip on the steering wheel

He knows for a fact that he will never gonna dance again

The way he danced with you

#Spotify #steve harrington #steve harrington supremacy #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #george michael #careless whisper #1980s #agirlwholovesrockstarsfics

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sagereidxx · 9 months ago

Text

Mike's "Will Voice". - An Essay by me.

If you’re a byler you know about the “Will Voice '' . But if you somehow don’t or you’re new, the “Will Voice" is the voice that Mike uses when he is talking to Will and ONLY Will. Normally Mike is a little abrasive and defensive to most people when he is talking to them. But when talking to Will, his voice is soft and quiet, just above a whisper, gentle.

Before we get into it, I think you should just know that the “Will voice” isn’t just something Byler’s made up! The directors tell Finn (the actor that plays Mike) to use a “special voice” when talking to Noah (The actor that plays Will) when filming.

DISCLAIMER - i actually didnt think this was going to be this long so sorry in advance but here are my thought i hope you enjoy! i love you!

“It was a seven, the Demogorgon. It got me.” - Season 1

One of the VERY FIRST SCENES in the show is Mike using his “Mike voice” Even if he really doesn't have to say anything at all. After Karen tells everybody to leave and all of the boys are hopping on their bikes to go home, Will is the only one left behind with Mike. Will admits to Mike that in the campaign they're playing, the Demogorgon got to him and killed him.

Something about this scene is just so…. The look of understanding, the nod. Mike is just more gentle with will than anyone else.

Right before this he was just arguing with Dustin about wether his sister is cool or not but with Will it’s different.

Unfortunately, since Will really isn’t in the whole rest of the season, because yknow he’s in a whole other dimension there aren't a lot of other scenes where Mike is using his “Will voice” However, Mike was the person who wanted to find will the most behind maybe Joyce. Saying that he “was the only one who cared about Will”, so that is something.

“Crazy together.” - Season 2

In my opinion, season 2 is like beak soft byler. The first season 2 byler moment was..

The Arcade Scene

As soon as Mike snaps Will out of his trance, his vision, whatever you want to call it, he goes right back to Will's comforting voice and tries to make him feel better and distracts him with a game of dig dug.

In the next episode, it's Halloween. And we ALL know what happened on Halloween night of 1987.

Will’s episode on halloween

When Will has a bad vision, who is the first name he calls? Mike. Not Lucas, Not Dustin, not even Max. Mike. Not anyone else but Mike. And who was the first one to find Will and the first one to comfort him? Micheal Fucking Wheeler. And he was using the same soft voice he always does when talking to Will, barley over a whisper. Not to mention that Mike wouldn't let anyone touch Will but himself after Will snapped out of his episode.

Talk in Mike’s Basement Scene

After Will had this awful episode, Mike takes Will and only Will back to his house. Will rambles and rants about how he feels stuck and Mike? He is attentive, sweet, listening, letting him get all of his words out. I’ve noticed with other people Mike can come off like he’s abrasive and harsh but with Will he is nothing close to that.

This conversation also consists of Mike helping Will express his feeling by finishing his sentences for him when he just can’t get his words out. In the few times Mike does speak, he does not break out of the gentle voice and literally never breaks his gaze from Will, not once.

EVEN WHEN MIKE TALKS ABOUT EL HE TALKS IN HIS WILL VOICE. AND THE ONLY REASON MIKE BROUGHT UP EL WAS FOR WILL’S BENEFIT.

And then the most iconic Byler line in Stranger Things history, “If we’re both going crazy, we’ll go crazy together, right?” “Yeah, crazy together.” So gentle, so sweet, so wholesome.

The hallway scene

Mike immediately notices something off with Will and has to make sure everything is okay.

Side note: even when Will isn't with Mike and the party, Mike will literally do anything he can to help Will. That’s his only priority at the moment.

Will’s bedroom scene

Even when Will is talking about “Him” Mike still reminds him that Will is a good person, calling him a “super spy”. Mike is doing absolutely anything he can to comfort Will and make him feel any better. (P.s. this moment is so wholesome I love it.)

And then the “yeah, yeah I really do” The PRIME example of “Will Voice”. The gentleness, the voice, the look, the nod, the reassurance, AND THEN THE REACH FOR THE HAND.

Hospital Scene (Will wakes up)

Will wakes up and Mike is obviously right there (‘cause he slept in the chair next to the bed, WHICH IS LIKE MY FAVORITE BYLER MOMENT OF ALL TIME) and asks if Will is “hurting again”, Mike keeps his eyes steady on Will. His only focus is Will right now. He keeps his voice soft and he asks Will things to make sure he understands and that he is hearing what Will is going through right now.

Mike recalling how they met

Even though the poor boys voice is shaky because he is literally trying (and failing) to hold back tears, it’s still soft and reassuring.

“It’s not my fault you don't like girls!” -Season 3

The movie theater scene

This scene is one of my favs from Season 3. Mike is the first and only person to realize something is off with Will and say something to make sure he’s okay. The "you okay?” and “you sure?” are so gentle and soft. It reminds me a lot of someone jumping at a scary part in a movie and their partner wrapping their arm around them and asking if they’re okay.

NOT TO MENTION THE NOT SO SUBTLE LIP GLANCES.

(Also the little gay panic Will has after Mike ask if he’s okay and the blush on Mike’s cheeks before)

The scene right before the fight scene

Mike immediately notices Will is upset after Mike makes his “joke” and he goes back to his voice that always gets Will and tries to convince him that they (him and Lucas) do really want to finish the campaign.

The fight scene

Mike IMMEADLEY goes back to his will voice after he drops the bomb shell because he know he fucked up and he did it BIG TIME. The big difference between Mike’s “Will Voice” in Season 2 and Season 3 is that in Season 2 he was really using that voice with Will because he knew that it was comforting to him but now in season 3 he uses it because he knows Will will fall for it.

(Also you know how Max says to El that Mike will come crawling back to El in no time? The only person he came crawling back to apologizing was Will.)

“Get away from the door” Scene

@myname1sca1 brought up a great point! The scene where Max is trying talk to Billy through the door, Will has a feeling that “He’s here” Mike stays turned and looking at Will says "get away from the door" it's in a gentle, quiet, soft voice and when Max doesn't listen, he turns away from Will and starts screaming at her do get away from the door again. He was only using that voice because he was looking at Will and dropped that voice as soon as he looked away.

The “Not possible” Scene

Toward the end of season 3, Mike realizes that he was being (in his own words) an asshole the whole season and starts caring about Will again. And when Will comes out and puts his box of D&D on the donate box, the thing he has loved since forever, Mike makes sure that he knows he is giving it away.

Will knows he’ll just use Mike’s when he visits and won’t join another party. That’s not possible.

(Plus the look on Mikes face after Will says “not possible” is adorable.)

"I didn't say it." "You didn't have to." Season 4, Vol 1.

Will's bedrooms scene

OMFG THIS SCENE

Immediately Mike is relaxed. His voice low and calm and he's lighthearted. The "You didn't have to" AND THE SMILE. This is a COMPLETE contrast to has he is around El in this part of the season. When with her, he is all tense and feels like he can never say the right thing.

Also, the absolute adoration for Will in his voice. When he says "It's Hawkins, it's not the same without you."

You can also really tell that Mike is really confiding in Will and letting his guard down which he never really does with anyone. Including El. Especially with the whole line "I don't know what's going to happen next." And if you know Mike Wheeler he never tells ANYONE that he is wrong or that he doesn't know what's going on. So, the fact that he feels comfortable enough with Will is something.

"But you make her feel better for being different." Season 4, Vol 2

"We have to Kill him." "And we will." Scene

The MOMENT Mike finds out that Will can feel that 001 is there, he jumps back into being his reassuring, gentle self for Will. This scene reminds me a lot of the "Yeah, Yeah i really do" scene for season 2.

OMG WE ARE DONE, if you made it through all of that, I love you so much. If you want to see more things like this PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know because i love writing essays about Byler analysis!

also let me know if there's anything I missed because if i miss enough things i will gather it and but it in an update!

RESOUCES

Stanger Things I The First 8 Minutes - Series Opener [HD] (Still Watching Netflix on YouTube)

Stranger Thing 02x02 - Mike and Will 'Crazy Together' Scene (Raghaua Daroui on Youtube)

Byler compilation (Season 2-3) (GoraculGerard on Youtube)

every byler scene 1080p I Stranger Things Season 4 Vol 1 (longbttms on Youtube)

byler 1080p scene pack I Stranger Things Vol 2 (longbttms on YouTube)

@myname1sca1 's post!

people who wanted to be tagged!

@lebylershipper

@ash-the-wise

@tender-emotional-music

@wallywise

@willbyerswatch

@hearteyes-wheeler

@paloma-ascends-into-hellfire

@hollarious2

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ahimhere · 4 months ago

Text

Movie Night

genre: Smut

pairing: Seonghwaxfem!reader

au/summary: Movies are soo boring

warning: smut, cursing

rating: 18+

wc: 1165

“See? Quick and easy. Good girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

warning: public sex, fingering, swearing(fuck)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Written by: @vampyuni

It seems corny at first. Initially, you think nothing of the suggestion: The two of you would attempt something risky in public. Seonghwa takes you to a movie, you both sit further off in the back, and there's only a small group of people scattered around the room to begin with considering a title as cheesy: ‘The Lovers Quest’. That sounded easy enough in a setting like that. But once you arrived, time passed, and the lights dimmed, and more people than you thought gathered in the surrounding areas..

Your heart pounded in your chest.

Seonghwa, however, looked completely calm. Even as a person sat two chairs down (which with what you two had planned, it felt like they were right next to you), he did nothing but offer you a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. You cum fast anyway, so it’ll be quick, yeah?” Seonghwa teased, which earned him a light shove from you.

“Shut up! The movie is starting.” You huffed, though giving an amused poke of your tongue.

The previews go by quickly. When the movie booms to life and the noise of the viewers begins to drown out, you can feel the warmth of his hand on your thigh. Seonghwa gives you a squeeze, and you’re sure your skin feels hotter than usual. There’s a blush spreading across your cheeks, and he leans over as if he can feel your embarrassment.

“Relax,” He starts, the sound of his voice distracting from the roaring movie, “You’ll be louder if you’re nervous.” You both knew that was a lie. You’d be fighting being loud the entire time, and nerves would be the last reason why.

Tonight, you wear a skirt that stops a good bit above your knees, and no panties are underneath. It makes it easier for him to get access, and as his hand slides along the length of your thigh, you feel the folds of your cunt growing wetter. To any onlooker’s quick glance, it would seem as if his hand was just resting on your lap. You look around and everybody seems focused on the movie, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about—-

“Ah-!“ You gasp as Seonghwa’s fingers brush along the swell of your clit, and he looks at you with a puzzled expression; however, there’s mischief layered in his pretty eyes, and you know that it won’t be the only time he purposely catches you off guard. A stranger gives a quick glance behind themselves, but it’s only that, and their attention returns to the movie. You release a breath of anxiety, and a small chuckle of relief.

“Are you okay?” Seonghwa playfully mouths to you, his fingers massaging slowly, applying pressure just so that he could watch you curl in on yourself. You’re not able to respond at this moment, but you’d repay him later when it’s time to ride the grin from his face on. You grip the arm rests, glancing down in front of you to make sure no one’s heard your slight noises. The movie is loud enough to cover the smaller sounds, but you have to bite your lip to keep from letting any moans escape behind his actions.

Seonghwa’s hand curls, and his slender fingers caress your clit until he’s pooling slick between your legs. He’s an expert in pulling your orgasm before you’re ready, but you want to try and last longer than the first five minutes of the film. Yet Seonghwa has a different motive, and the pad of his fingers smoothly slips lower. Your heart races, eyelids fluttering, and the feeling of his fingers spreading your cunt’s lips feels like blinding ecstasy. Your knees press together, and in response, Seonghwa is slipping his middle finger right against your core, prodding the entrance through your clenched legs. You whimper, trying not to cry out for more, struggling to keep your composure.

“Baby, open up for me.” Seonghwa’s low voice in your ear makes you straighten up, and you remember your surroundings. He’s leaned over as if murmuring something about the movie, his eyes focused on the big screen.

Your thighs tremble as you pry them apart, because he’s gently pushing his finger inside at the same time, a second one joining just to stretch you open. It’s a miracle no one has noticed yet, because your legs are open, and by this point Seonghwa’s hand is blatantly shoved between them, working a movement that keeps you fidgeting in your spot.

Your head fell forward, and you closed your eyes in an attempt to focus on catching your breath. Seonghwa fucks inside of you at a skilled angle, hand bending far underneath your skirt so that his fingers press against the most sensitive parts of your walls. You fight a moan as he hits your hottest spot, almost jerking from your seat as his fingers thrust inside of you without mercy of making you shout.

Yet Seonghwa looks at you as if he expects silence, an eyebrow raised as if to say ‘Remember where we are’.

Even as your eyes widen at his expectations, he’s constantly rubbing on that same spot, and your cunt’s drooling slick all over the seat- it’s all too much! You’ll cum much sooner than you’re ready to!

You look over at Seonghwa as your walls tighten around his long fingers, and he’s looking at the screen with a clenched jaw. He’s past the point of sitting in public now, and thoughts of dragging you to a restroom stall fuels his impatience. His shoulder visually jerks, and you suck in a harsh breath as he presses the weight of his palm against your clit, his fingers thrusting deep into the warm folds of your cunt.

Desperately, you grind against his hand to feel more friction, hips trolling as you chase your orgasm. You’re too distracted to really notice if anyone is paying attention, but you’re sure Seonghwa is watching the others as much as he’s watching you. “Fuck,” You hear Seonghwa whisper, trying to hold back his own sounds of arousal. There’s heat washing over your body, the pleasure of being full clouding every sense except feeling his hand.

“S-Seonghwa-“ You whine, trying to catch the sound before it crescendoed. You throw yourself at his arm, biting your teeth down into his sleeve to keep from moaning into the public space. You can hear the sound of his grunt as he adjusts his arm to meet your shifting, but he’s good at making sure his fingers don’t slip until your walls relax its grip.

You shake as you fall back into your seat, and your eyes roll when Seonghwa’s fingers are slipping out of you. He meets your dazed eyes as he sucks the slick from his hand, a movie long forgotten in the background.

Slowly, he removes his fingers from his mouth. His plump lips are wet with your arousal, and he smirks at your melted state.

“See? Quick and easy. Good girl.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @special4u @yuumemiii1 @mxnsxngie

#ateez hard hours #seonghwa smut #kinktober #ateezkinober

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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago

Text

Tell Me a Secret | Stiles Stilinski

“Okay, one more. One more.”

Stiles groans as he tosses an arm over his eyes in a playful attempt to hide from your invasive line of questioning. “God, fine. Go.”

“Okay.” You sit up a little higher in bed. “Okay, if Lydia is riding you…and somebody dies…and she screams…I mean…you’re dead, right? Like boom. Face melted and just…dead.”

His arm drops as he rolls his head over to look at you. “Oh…my God—”

“Am I wrong?” you argue. “No, because I was thinking about it—don’t look at me like that—I was thinking because…I mean, even a gag wouldn’t help, right? Cause if she screamed, it would just be…disintegrated. Right?”

He blinks at you, lips dancing with the idea of smiling. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead fucking serious,” you correct, expression firm. “No, honestly, I’ve always wondered this. Because…I mean like, a sex scream is definitely different from a banshee scream, right? ’Cause it only applies to death. And not like, ‘Oh, you murdered this pussy,’ kind of death. But like…dead people death, right?”

He blinks at you, doing his absolute best not to laugh.

“So, if you’re anywhere near her when it happens…and she has to scream—cause she can’t stop it—I mean…like you’d be dead. I mean…right?”

With an amused sigh, he rolls his lips into his mouth. “I don’t know. I guess? We never really…I mean that was never really a problem.”

“Right, right. Cause she was more worried about killing you in a car.” You nod as his eyes roll. “Feel like the sex-scream would be a lot more troubling, but whatever. Okay, next question.”

He groans and flops over onto the other side of the bed.

“So…Malia, right? Like she’s the one that introduced you to bondage, I’m assuming,” you begin, scooting closer despite his protests. “How did that…I mean, how would that have worked exactly? Like were you into tying her up, was she into tying you up…cause I saw the rope and handcuffs, so you can’t tell me that wasn’t a thing—”

Suddenly, just before you can even finish your train of thought, he’s flipping back over and lunging at you.

You have about two seconds to catch your breath before he’s managed to wrangle you onto your back as he straddles your waist.

Instantly, a breath catches in your throat as he smirks down at you, his large hand smoothing up your neck to capture your jaw in his palm.

“Are you done?” he murmurs, slowly dipping down to bring himself closer to you. “Because…I don’t want to think about them right now. In fact, I don’t even want you to think about them. I just want you...to think…about…me.”

The tip of his button nose brushes against yours as your lashes flutter. “I’m just confused…about…the logistics,” you pant faintly as he grins.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says firmly. “Only thing that matters is you. Us.” He leans back to catch your eye. “Yeah?”

You nod quickly.

“Good,” he whispers, head tilting until his lips can ghost over yours, sadistically teasing you with a kiss. “’Cause I’ve got something I wanna show you tomorrow.”

You perk up, fingers mindlessly tangling in his white sleep shirt. “Oh? What?”

Now, he moves to your cheek, mouth trailing along your feverish skin as you swallow a whine. “You always wanted to see Eichen House, yeah?”

Your eyes widen.

“Well, they’re tearing it down in a couple of weeks,” he continues, taking note of your excitement. “Thought we’d give it one last look.”

You gasp as you push on his chest until you can fully see his face. “Wait, really? You’ll take me? Actually?”

Stiles nods, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. Eichen House (and Beacon Hills in general, for that matter) has always been a sore spot between the two of you.

He likes to keep you safe in this part of his life. He likes who he is now.

With you.

And the idea of introducing you to how things used to be...how he used to be...

He was sure you'd never be able to look at him the same.

You'd done your best to assure him that you didn’t care about his life before. Because everybody has a past, and that's not something he can change.

It's nothing something you want him to change.

You love this Stiles. You always will.

He hadn't seemed too convinced before.

But now, well...now it looks like your nagging has finally done you some good.

You throw your arms around his neck to pull him down in a grateful kiss as he exhales a laugh and slides his hand down your side.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his bottom one. “It’s not gonna change anything between us, you know.”

“I know.” He’s quiet. Reluctant, even.

You know how much of himself he has to be fighting just to give this to you.

So, you decide to take his mind off it.

After all, it’s the least you can do.

“And once we’re there, you can show me all the places you and Malia did it,” you add eagerly, and you’re rewarded with the sound of his annoyed groan.

“Oh, that’s it,” he declares, wrapping an arm around your back to roll you both over to the other side of the bed.

And you’re more than okay with that.

Part one, maybe??? Listen, I thought going with them to Eichen House might be kind of funny so 😭

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

#dylan #dylan o'brien #stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski fanfic #stiles stilinksi #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien fanfic #dylan o’brien imagine

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songfell-ut · 10 months ago

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Songfell anniversary post, pt 3

Last installment of pics I grabbed from posts off this Tumblr since I started it four years ago. I have been unbelievably spoiled by every single one of you, and if I didn't put something here, it was out of my negligence, not any fault of yours.

Please note that @venelona has done multiple amazing schmoopy poses of these two, and I will be putting them in loose chronological order with the rest. Wheee

(Part 1, Part 2)

...Okay, it turns out most of these are not specific. Here are the more chronologically oriented arts, starting with:

This is pretty iconic, by @nascent-chaos. Have you ever heard the expression "You've caught a wolf by the ears" or "a bear by the tail"? It means the second you get out of a stalemate, you're gonna get eaten. Not applicable here, nope nope

Her very first clear memory from the box ;_; by @cuddlyquiche.

A couple of very early bits from Vene. I think that one is probably the most accurate depiction of their size difference, which I've had multiple artists kinda fudge for the sake of getting them in the same frame. Also he's so pleased they match, gigantic dorkburger

Possibly my favorite from Vene ^_^

Skipping way on ahead to the bubble fight by @sharkowskii. I just. Ahhh my kokoro

Speaking of which DDDDDDDD: why is Vene so good at expressions

Case in point: "U mad, bro?" but no, Undyne and Papyrus are the greatest bros

And again x4. We understand the value of a tiny waifu around here, don't we, Sans?

Damn straight

Variation on a theme, by Sharky (the theme is "socks")

Now we've got the dresses she wore for her last couple days in the Underground. There's this totally-not-bridal-ha-ha-silly-man by Catler1, grabbed off Discord because I wanted the complete set.

Still wildly infatuated with this one by @melikitinas ~

Shoes not made for dancing, by @feelisia

And a dress made for because I wanted a pretty golden gown (thank u Vene)

Now we have the more miscellaneous pieces, though the second of these by @matchamanx is prooobably from a bit later in the story :D

(I watched Star Versus the Forces of Evil recently, and yes, Frisk would absolutely pull the same shit as Eclipsa. Git 'im gurl)

A formal portrait with a dress I keep forgetting to steal from @stacyyyep

This is so soft ahjdhjf @marihem

The pfp for my sorely neglected Patreon Discord server eh heh heh yeah another by @xxkoichiixx

And last of the collection is a fantastic piece by @lostmypotatoes herself, with an expression that could not more clearly say "Why, this old thing? I only wear it when I'm being an absolute goddamn queen treated exactly as I deserve" 😙

Cheers, everybody. I'll have written things to post as soon as I finished writing them. Mwah mwah kisses etc.

#songfell #songfell anniversary post #this was actually quite fun #i'm sorry if you did video art and it wasn't in here #but my goodness there is a lot of that #please understand I did not aim to leave anyone out #but ow my hands

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physalian · 8 months ago

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Incorporating weather elements into your narrative

*Picture me in shock over 11 new followers in 6 days after a 3 week dry spell: Thanks everybody!

Short this time! Weather and climate as worldbuilding are kind of like adverbs. Adverbs, as a concept, are not book kryptonite (despite what all the people screaming about how using better verbs is always the answer want you to believe). Adverbs should just be used with intent and not be redundant, which I’ve said before.

Basically, why use an adverb that doesn’t actually tell us any helpful information about the verb that the reader can’t already presume? “She smiled happily,” well, yeah, as you do. “She smiled sorrowfully,” okay, now that’s an expression I can work with. Why is she smiling sorrowfully? Why does she think she must smile through her sadness? Clearly it’s failing, otherwise the narrator wouldn’t note that the smile is sorrowful at all.

There’s a reason “talking about the weather” is the butt of the joke. It’s generally seen as boring and inconsequential to either party and used to just fill otherwise awkward silence. A quick sentence for sensory details is great. Repeat details that don’t dig into those sensory elements are not.

Your weather is no different. Why are you describing it if it serves no purpose to the scene? Everyone’s default unobtrusive day is different, but unless stated otherwise, people are going to assume it’s either day or night with mildly clear skies and tolerable heat and humidity. Talking at length about average weather that doesn’t impact your character’s emotions or choices, or the tone of the narrative, is a waste of effort in my opinion.

As in, describing the perfect day while a charcater is stuck in an office and unable to enjoy it? Yes. A character getting groceries and it's 72 and sunny and look at all the boring shapes of the clouds and planes flying over head while I get zero input on how the character feels about any of it or why this detail matters? Fluff and filler.

If your book is chock full of poetic fluff, go ham, everybody's ideal narrative is different. I like mine lean, otherwise I get bored by all the fluff while I wait for the book to remember it has a plot.

Weather fits into one of those little buzzword bingo cards where, if the author is taking an aside to describe it, you know it’s going to be important later (or at least it should be important later if the author didn’t just forget about it). Weather tends to be used as foreshadowing and is used as metaphorical shorthand everywhere.

If I write about a character going off on a quest and I tell the reader that clouds are growing in the distance, there’s a 70/30 chance I’m not just talking about actual clouds, but the threat of the enemy, some sinister plot our plucky heroes are ignorant of. Stuff like:

A red sunrise

Black/grey stormclouds

The ambiguous “rain/storm” that’s coming

A chilly wind picks up

An oppressive heat wave settles over the land

Fictional weather is so entrenched in metaphor and allegory that no matter how cliché it gets, watching or reading a funeral scene where it’s not grey and rainy feels insincere and not somber enough for the tragedy unfolding. You can avoid this by having your characters hate that it’s not raining for their funeral, as if even God doesn’t mourn their dead friend and the rest of the world moves on uncaring.

Same vibe as Halloween decorations in broad daylight. Or Christmas decorations in the Florida 80 degree December. Fall without the changing colors of the leaves. The mood is completely wrong.

“It was a dark and stormy night” sets the reader up for something serious, perhaps mysterious and dramatic, not a cheesy Hallmark romance. Weather as tone is extremely helpful. Not describing it is better than picking the wrong weather for your scene, unless you're trying to be ironic. Weather is practically its own character, depending on how much it matters to your story.

Fantasy and abnormal weather should be treated like any other scene descriptor element. It’s not enough to just drop in a detail about how there’s a 20% chance of blood rain at noon. If this is meant to be metaphorical or foreshadowing, despite being “blood rain” maybe it’s not an ill omen. Maybe it’s a magical fertilizer and a farming boon that graces the land, you gotta clarify.

Personally I’d fixate on the blood rain and want to know much more about it, just as much as I’d want to know about the rest of the town. I don’t need you to explain why it exists, it can exist just for funsies without serving any plot purposes, but I definitely want some more detail about the blood rain, it sounds cool.

—

TLDR; Weather cannot be untethered from its metaphorical and tonal implications, it’s just too entrenched in fictional associations. With that said, if weather in your book isn’t important at all to the story, randomly describing the sunny day at length is like describing the grass of a random lawn—we all know what random grass looks like. Unless the state of the lawn matters, it’s fluff. If it doesn’t service the character’s arc, the themes of the story, the tone of the scene, or the plot in any way, it can be skipped beyond relaying to your readers on the time of day and some sensory details like if it’s hot or windy or humid.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing a book #writing tips #writing tools #writing #writeblr #world building #descriptive writing

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osleeplessflowero · 7 months ago

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<- First Part 🔒 -> Oneshot Masterpost

time for some answers! that..lead to more questions.

AmalgaMATE

a science sans x amalgamate reader series

The sound of the scanner was all Sans could seem to focus on as Alphys hooked up the machine to give it a test run. The "Insert", or rather, You were waiting behind some glass windows, hands pressed against them as your heads shifted between shapes. Somehow a chill goes down the skeleton's spine at your staring, even though he can't actually feel temperatures. Perhaps that's just an effect you have on him, heart shaped voids where your eyes would be unable to pull away as you observe his subtle movements.

"O-Okay, just hold still and let me look over your soul for a few seconds. Try not to move too mul- much." Alphys' claws can be heard clicking the keys on the keyboard beside her before she presses a button on the machine.

"don't gotta worry too much about that, alphys. it's not like i need to breathe." He simply falls limp where he sits as he feels himself being scanned, Alphys focusing intently on what the machine says. Ooh, he really wants to make a joke right now, but he'd hate to know what could go wrong if she loses focus. Maybe some other time. The two wait in an agonizing silence as the results slowly pull up. Jeez, someone really needs to do maintenance on this..

"Okay, let me take a look at..oh stars." Alphys' brows knit together as she looks at the screen, briefly glancing back at the skeleton.

"you're making me nervous, am i dying or something?" A hint of a chuckle is heard in his voice, but also a small amount of anxiety.

"Well, n-no, but..um..okay. Do you remember the concept of Soulmates that we went over?"

"well yeah. everybody has someone compatible for their soul that they can be bound to, and when a perfect match is found the souls are linked automatically. ..what does that have to do with this?" He tilts his head as he leans to the side, shifting his weight onto one of his hands resting on the seat below him.

She shuts the machine down but keeps the results screen up, shuffling about as she talks. "Those..strings that you saw are all soul links. Links connected to your soul." She turns to face him directly, a serious expression on her face. He freezes, eyesockets going wide in shock.

"..you're saying i have connections to every soul fragment in their body?"

"..Yeah, which means..you're soulmates with the entity." She turns the screen around so he can face it, pointing at each individiual string that's connected from his soul to Yours. Various different colors and styles all link right to him, wrapping around his soul and almost trapping it. "S-Somehow, you've..bonded with every soul here. That is why the entity likes you so much."

"how is that even scientifically possible?" He sits up, adjusting his glasses that had begun to slip and getting off of the chair he'd been sitting in to get a closer look. "how did i manage to bond with a bunch of soul shards we found out and about? i mean, it's not unheard of to have multiple soulmates, but this many?"

He turns back to look at you, watching as your melty grin stretches once you've been acknowledged. Well, it would explain the clingy behavior and why you didn't attack him on sight..

"how could i be bound to that many souls? it's impossible, i can't be..it doesn't make sense." He stares off at a desk in a nearby corner, covered in scattered papers and blue prints for various projects, allowing himself to think.

"I-I don't know myself, it should be impossible. But ten- then..after seeing the results..it's definitely possible now. You're bound." She looks out of the window at You, and You break your staring at Sans, focusing on her as your eyes shift back into circular voids, tilting your head in curiosity.

"i don't get it..there has to be some explanation for this. a mistake somewhere, somehow- why would?.." He puts a gloved hand over his teeth, trying to think of some sort of reasoning, something he's not seeing. But what is it? What is the piece of the puzzle he can't seem to place? He turns back to look at you, watching as your eyes shift back to adoring little hearts. He walks over to the glass without a word, standing behind it as you perk up, gently pressing various shifting hand shapes against it with a wide smile.

"Wh-When you find your soulmate..o-or soulmates, in this case..you're bound for a long time, Sans. And..I think you two are gonna be stuck with each other for a long time." She joins his side, looking at You as you lightly hit the glass, wanting to go inside.

"what am i going to do, al?" He lowers his hand, eyes softening as he looks over you. She sighs, putting a hand on his shoulder and waiting for him to turn to look at her. She looks back at you for a moment, before shifting her gaze back to him.

"Well, for now..we just need to keep working and observing it until we can figure out how all this mess works. M-Maybe there's a chance you can detach somehow! Or..figure something else out! Something..something crazy, b-but possible!"

"i guess we'll have to see, huh?" He puts his hands in his lab coat pockets. Alphys removes her hand, walking over to fully shut down the scanning machine and push some of the previous scientist's journals out of the way. He walks over to the door, letting it scan one of his eyelights before exiting. You're on him in mere seconds, clinging to him like a cat to a scratching post. He lets out an uneasy chuckle, still not quite used to this sort of thing.

"hey. i'm back now." He reaches up to pet your rapidly shifting heads, having a bit of a struggle as your heights constantly change. "you okay? ..all of you?" He pauses, hearing something muttered from your mouths and freezing. ..He didn't think you could speak. "hey, i..i couldn't hear, can you say that again? try again."

"Ssss.." You strain yourselves, voices changing between different pitches and having the tone of a whisper. "Saaaans.." A wide smile crosses your faces, pleased at your discovery. He lets out a little amused huff, stepping back a little.

"so you can talk, huh? well.. you're progressing similarly to the others, at least. won't be long before you can say full sentences again. if you keep working at it, that is."

"Saaaans. Saaaans? Saaaans!" Giggles of differing pitches erupt from your mouth as you cling to him again, Alphys shaking her head as she exits the room behind you both.

"They're like a puppy." She smiles, observing your behavior. "Only without the licking and biting part."

"hey, don't jinx it. they might try it." Sans warns, earning a laugh from the lizard as they both begin walking down a long hallway, motion lights activating above as they pass through. They both find themselves staring off into space as they walk quietly, sounds of content coming from you. Alphys simply types away on her phone, probably to Undyne, Sans thinks. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp pain.

"ow-" He looks over to see your forms biting onto his shoulder before he quickly pulls you off, holding you up by the scruff of your melty neck as you let out sounds of discontent. "no biting, that's bad."

Alphys lets out a laugh, barely able to contain herself. "IT ACTUALLY- IT ACTUALLY BIT YOU-" She wheezes, holding her chest. "Oh my stars, I'm gonna pass out!"

"shut up, al." He murmurs as the three of you enter the elevator to go down a floor. It's quiet for a bit before Alphys perks up, putting her phone away.

"You know, I see what you mean about the lack of elevator music now."

"right? it'd make it a lot less creepy, that's for sure. just goin' in here and listening to..i dunno, casual bongos."

"Bongos? Sans, please. I am not playing bongos in here." She puts a hand on her hip.

"don't hate on them, you just can't handle their power." Sans finally puts you down after a hot minute, and you go right back to clinging to his back. "plus it's funny."

"Oh my stars." She pinches her nose in frustration as the doors open, and the two scientists enter the new hallway. Machinery can be heard moving nearby, likely for Mettaton's routine maintenance. As to which Mettaton? They have no idea. But it's one of 'em.

Sans perks up to make some sort of robot joke, but pauses when the sound of something moving in the air vents interrupts the peace. You perk up, heads all turning to find the location of the sound, before detaching from Sans quickly. He holds out an arm in protest, but is unable to stop you as you go to hunt down whatever it may be.

"that's..probably not good." A bead of magic sweat rolls down his skull, Alphys facepalming shortly after.

"Why did you let it go?! C-Come on, we've gotta find it before it hurts one of the other patients or something." Alphys grabs her phone, opening an app so she can see her security cameras, trying to pinpoint your location. Sans follows the trail of goop you left behind, running after it quickly.

"hey! don't go chasing after stuff, get back here! you don't have enough HP to go running into danger right now!" He shouts at the ceiling, hoping you can hear him from wherever you are. The noise in the vents is much louder, the movement of what sounds like multiple figures able to be heard echoing as the chase proceeds on. The sounds finally stop near a keycard locked room, Sans opening it almost immediately upon hearing a loud crash. He pops his head in, turning on the light with a worried look, before letting out a sigh of relief.

You sit in a little goopy, shifting blob as the patient "Endogeny" sniffs you, barking happily at the fact that it's made a friend. You simply remain still as it seems to "sniff" you, despite having no nose on its body whatsoever, before lying down on the ground beside you, various legs and all.

"thank the stars it was just endo. so that's how something kept getting into the dog food, it's been going through the vents." He pops his head out. "al! it's okay, it was just endo!"

"Are you serious? How did a dog that BIG get into the vents?"

"i dunno, but that's what happened. they're fine now, everything's good."

"Thank the stars..they almost gave me a heart attack. Remind me why I'm working down here again?"

"because we've experienced The Horrors and have to live with that for the rest of our lives?"

"Oh yeah. True."

"Sans? Are You In Here? You Didn't Come Home For Your Break, So I Decided To Visit And Ensure You Are Alright!" Papyrus' voice echoes through the hall. Sans somehow pales despite literally being a white skeleton, tensing before shutting the door. Alphys looks at him worriedly.

"papyrus can not know about this situation right now. just let me handle this, watch over them okay?" He rushes away before she can respond, leaving her frozen in place as she slowly looks into the room you're in. You press your faces against the glass abruptly, causing her to scream and jolt backwards, before she regains her composure. You let out a series of distorted laughs as she sighs, putting her hands on her hips.

"A-Alright, you troublemaker. You're gonna have to get used to me one way or another, and if this is how it'll be then so be it."

You grin smugly at her, Endogeny comically rising up behind you so it can look outside too. Such a good dog. Dogs? Something like that.

"okay sans, just act natural, it's your brother. your brother that does not know what you have been doing with human souls and does not know that those souls are your soulmates now. just act..natural." He opens a door, being greeted with the face of his younger brother.

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #amalgaMATE #science sans x reader #gender neutral reader #amalgamate reader #science sans #lilies divider by saradikagraphics #sciencey divider by animated-glitter-graphicsnmore

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sarahowritesostucky · 5 months ago

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Art: @hopelessartgeek

📖 "Medically Necessitated" Ch 9

Rated: Explicit Pairing: Bucky x Steve Tags: a/b/o, age gap, past rape, rape recovery, trauma recovery, pregnancy, medical trauma, hurt/comfort, mentions of CSA, religious fundamentalism, first time, gender dysphoria, male omegas having all the bits (peen & vagine) Summary: After a medical emergency brings him into the ER, Bucky escapes the religious cult he's been raised in. It's up to Steve, nurse practitioner and omega sex & repro specialist, to see him through a medically supervised heat.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter! Story masterlist

9. Rebecca

After a battery of tests to ensure he isn't being coerced, Bucky is finally released into Steve's care.

The next morning, Steve shows up to work with a brand new tablet, StarkPhone, box of steaming hot French toast, and a spring in his step. But when he gets to Bucky’s room, he’s surprised to find him dressed in regular clothes and speaking with a visitor.

The woman from the cult is there, sitting in Steve’s usual spot at the bedside. Steve tenses up in preparation for a confrontation.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been sitting in a conference room with her hair tied back modestly, that same modesty echoed in her meek demeanor and homemade dress. Today she’s wearing a pantsuit with jewelry and makeup, but the difference doesn’t register to Steve right away. He can only think of the man named Russel who’d been so hateful when he spoke about male omegas, who’d threatened to rip Bucky away and take him back to his insane little cult. How the woman introduced as Bucky’s mother had just sat there and not said a word against any of it.

Steve takes another step into the room, fingers digging into the takeout container and making the styrofoam squeak. “You.”

“Steve!” Bucky greets happily, eyeing the food and electronics that Steve is balancing his own coffee cup atop of. “Morning.”

“Hey, Buck.” Steve’s eyes flick between the woman and Bucky. She resembles him, though she sure as shit doesn’t look old enough to be his mother. He frowns at her and wonders how long she’s been there, how she even got up to the ward in the first place. “Is everything okay in here?”

“Yeah. Steve, this is Becca. She’s from the Children.”

“We’ve met,” the woman says before Steve has a chance to open his mouth. She gives him a wary look and holds out her hand. “Rebecca. I’m—”

“I remember you,” Steve says flatly, ignoring the gesture. “You were here with that man. Russel.”

Her expression falls and she retracts her hand. “Sorry. Yeah.”

“Is he here?” Steve asks tightly. He’s on edge just thinking of another alpha coming in to try and stake a claim on Bucky.

“No. No, I came alone.”

“Good.”

“I brought him some clothes from home,” she offers, aware of Steve’s opinion of her. “I called ahead to get permission. The social workers know I’m here visiting. They approved it.”

Steve blinks, surprised. “Oh.” He relaxes a fraction at that, moving over to set his armload of things down on the bed near Bucky’s legs.

“Oh my God that smells good. Give it.” Bucky is stretching down the bed to get at the take out container, and he moans when he lifts the lid and the smell of butter and maple syrup escapes. “Oh, fuuck me.”

“Bucky,” Steve scoffs, embarrassed.

It’s then that Bucky seems to finally catalog the other items. “What’re those?”

Steve scratches behind his head, wishing that the woman Rebecca wasn’t there. He’d wanted to surprise Bucky with the gifts. “Well you said you were bored,” he defends. “And everybody needs a cellphone.”

“Shit, they’re for me?!”

Steve takes great pride in the blinding smile that Bucky gives him, but his enjoyment of the moment is stilted due to their guest’s presence. “If you two were having a visit, I can step out for a minute.”

“No, no that’s okay,” Bucky says, already spearing up a bunch of the French toast and shoving it into his mouth. He chews, talking around the food and pointing at the woman with his fork. “She’s my sister.”

“Your ‘sister’?” Steve narrows his eyes at Rebecca, who really does look to be in her thirties. “I thought you were his ‘mother’?”

Bucky snorts and Rebecca winces. “No. I’m sorry that Russel told you that. He lied.”

Steve crosses his arms. “I’m still curious how you made the jump from mother to sister. Is this a lie, too?”

“Russel married her,” Bucky says, still mowing through the food and rolling his eyes. “Gross, by the way.”

“I was only one of many, and didn’t exactly have a choice, Bucky,” she scolds. She looks back to Steve. “I came here because I want to do what he’s doing. I want out.”

“‘Out’?”

“She’s leaving the Children, too,” Bucky supplies. “We both shoulda done it a long time ago, but,” he shrugs. “S’hard.”

“Yeah,” Steve says slowly, taking all of this new information in. “Yeah I’m sure it is.” Now that he knows that the woman in the chair isn’t there to try and convince Bucky to come back into the fold, now that he knows she’s Bucky’s sister and that she supports him, he’s feeling far less standoffish. He uncrosses his arms and tries to act at least marginally more friendly. “So … you two are actually related? I thought nobody in your group knew who their biological parents were?”

Bucky laughs with his mouth full. “Yeah but we figured it out years ago. I mean look at us.” He gestures between the two of them with his fork and Steve has to concede the point. They have the same wavy dark hair and the same face shape, near-identical eyes and noses. “Becs found some old documents once, digging around in the church office. We know the woman who’s our actual mother.”

“Well, know of her,” Rebecca corrects, and Bucky nods.

“We don’t talk. She doesn’t know that we know. Nobody does.” He shrugs and takes another massive bite of food, which he talks through. “Waaahya gunnuh do, righ?”

“I see.” Steve shifts uncomfortably and takes a sip of his coffee. He can only imagine how weird the whole thing must be. Or at least, it seems weird to him. But Bucky’s talking about it as if it doesn’t bother him a bit, or at least not enough to stop demolishing his breakfast. “Well um, it’s good to hear that you’ve got some support,” Steve says. “Somebody you know. On the outside.”

Rebecca looks up from her chair. “I came to tell him that I’d officially moved out. I found a charity that helps people like us, people who’ve got nowhere else to go. They’ve helped me find an apartment, and I’ve got a job interview today.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve tries to smile encouragingly, even though his heart rate picks up at the possibility that she’s about to say that she wants Bucky to come live with her. “That’s great.” He takes another big gulp of his coffee.

“Steve’s the one who knocked me up.”

Steve almost spits out his mouthful, swallowing painfully and coughing. “Bucky!”

Rebecca laughs, the sound slightly similar to what Bucky’s own laugh sounds like. “It’s okay. He told me how it happened. I know you’re not some predator trying to take advantage of him.”

Steve flushes and shifts uncomfortably. He sure does feel like one, having to face Bucky’s much older sibling about it now. “Yeah, well …”

“I didn’t know you could test for it so soon, though,” Rebecca says. “The commercials always say, what? A few days after your missed period?”

“That’s for beta women,” Steve says, knowing the statistics by rote. “Omegas’ menstrual cycles are timed differently. Their bodies implant the egg and start producing hCG much faster, so blood tests’ll pick up on it after only a few days.” He glances at Bucky. “Sometimes sooner.”

“Oh.”

“We’re bonded,” Bucky tells Rebecca. “It was just supposed to be temporary, but, well …” He glances down at his stomach and Steve feels guilt flare up in him. “So now Steve’s taking me home to live with him.” Bucky doesn’t seem at all concerned about how his sister will react to this news. “So that the baby can be around his pheromones and stuff. Which is apparently important.”

Steve is abruptly reminded that Bucky has had zero sex education in his life, and he resolves to download a bunch of material onto the omega’s new tablet as soon as it gets a full charge. “It’s all about what he wants,” Steve feels compelled to say, to ensure that Rebecca fully knows that he is not a predator. Christ, he hates that she even thought to use the word. That’s going to stick in his mind, now. “Bucky didn’t want to consider termination, so we’re doing what’s best for the development of the fetus.”

“Could you not call it that?” Bucky complains. “S’weird.”

Steve flushes. “Sorry. Medical jargon. Habit.”

“Right.”

There’s a beat of silence between the three of them, and Steve is just about to open his mouth to offer again to give the siblings some privacy for their visit, but Rebecca beats him to the chase by standing. She picks up her purse from the floor and shoulders it. “I’d better get going. The interview’s at ten forty-five and it’s half past nine now. I’m still kind of slow at the whole public transportation thing and, well. Don’t want to be late.”

“Hey, you can text me now!” Bucky says excitedly, reaching for the StarkPhone that Steve had hurriedly charged and added onto his plan that morning. “Oh, but I don’t know my number …”

“Here.” Steve helps by taking his own phone out and unlocking the screen. “What’s your number? I should have it too.” Rebecca relays the information and the both of them save her in their contacts. She says goodbye and promises to be in touch, giving Bucky a hug and Steve a handshake that feels more than a little stilted. “It’ll be okay,” Steve promises her out in the hall, when Bucky has found a moment of distraction with his new phone. “I’m going to take care of him.”

“You’d better,” she says. “He just got out of that life, he doesn’t need to be trapped all over again.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Good. You’ve got no idea what life with The Children is like. Boys like James …” she trails off and shakes her head sadly. “You don’t know what it was like for him there. What it would’ve been like, if he’d stayed.”

“I think I can imagine,” Steve grits, but tries to temper his tone when Rebecca raises a questioning brow. He doesn’t know how much, if anything, Bucky’s told his sister about the rape, and it isn’t Steve’s place to bring it up now. “I’ll be good to him,” he tells her. “I promise you. You don’t have to worry.”

“You seem like a good person. I’m trusting that.” She softens and pats his hand in thanks before turning to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

Steve watches her go, the elevator doors down the ward hall opening with a ‘ding’ just as she’s passing by them. Clint and Sam step out and head in Steve’s direction. Two tiny, stern-faced women are with them: OmCare advocates who look like they mean business. “Steve,” Sam greets as the group approaches. “We’ve gotta take him now.”

Sam’s tone tells Steve everything he needs to know. “Discharge after?” he asks hopefully.

Clint and the two women all but ignore him and continue on to Bucky’s room without entertaining his comment, but Sam and Steve are close enough that Sam nods and lingers behind to whisper sideways at him, “Hospital admin wants you as far away as possible right now.”

“Jesus,” Steve grumbles, mildly offended despite the fact that he knows it’s only a protective measure for Bucky. “I do have advocate training, ya know.”

“Yeah, and you’re involved. This is the eighteen-year-old you knocked up and bonded. Doesn’t exactly speak to your impartiality.” Steve would be more offended, but he can see how Sam’s lips turn up slightly at the corners, belying his serious attitude. “Go check on your patients. Work. Don’t just sit around up here moping and twiddling your thumbs or whatever. You’ll go nuts if you do. We’ve got this.”

Steve doesn’t like it a bit, but he knows it’s what has to be done. Any documentation of him loitering on the periphery of Bucky’s evaluation, education, or his discharge interviews will be noted harshly by the social services team. And despite all of his raging instincts, the last thing Steve wants is to pressure Bucky into a decision or situation he’s not comfortable with. This is how it has to be. “Yeah,” he grunts in agreement, and hurries to get himself out of sight. He heads for the staff locker room, where he takes an extra long and scalding hot pre-shift shower to at least make an attempt at a fresh and productive start to his day.

Steve’s head of department pulls him aside and informs him that she’ll only be requiring him to stay on the ward until Bucky is discharged and handed over to his custody. Steve doesn’t know how long that will be, but he’s certain it won’t be the entirety of his scheduled twelve hour shift.

It’s a relief at first, but after he does his first rounds with his patients and finds himself twiddling his thumbs and drinking too much espresso out of boredom, he knows it’s going to be a problem. Sometime around eleven, Steve gets caught trying to sneak downstairs to get an update on Bucky. “Stay out of it,” Banner bosses, pulling him right back off the elevator. “You bored? I can find something for you to do.”

That’s how he winds up on seeding machine duty for the next few hours.

Hospital treatment options for cycling omegas aren’t just confined to the heat suites and Support alphas. In fact, most patients who come through for heat services never get assigned a Support at all. Most aren’t even admitted, not being that high-needs. An omega’s cycle, gone off whack for whatever reason or variety of reasons, can usually be realigned with a short course of seeding therapy. But if there’s anything Steve’s ever felt most bad for omegas about, it’s the indignity of the machines used to do it. Because they’re … well …

“Oh. Wow, ha. It really is just a dick on a stick.”

Steve does a slow blink to avoid reacting to that. Not that the patient—a college-aged guy who smells like he’s recently been enjoying reefer—is wrong. “Um,” Steve says, readjusting his hold on his tablet. “It says here that you spoke with the nurse. Did you have any more questions?”

“This can’t get me pregnant, can it? I’m not on the pill or anything.”

Steve’s jaw ticks. “Hospital grade semen is manufactured. It’s sterile. So, no, it won’t get you pregnant.” If only the same could’ve been said for yours, he thinks at himself. “We do this all the time, Sir. It’s very safe, very reliable. I promise.” Just like you promised Bucky.

“Cool. No little swimmers, check.” The guy gives Steve a double thumbs up. “Think I’m ready to tango with this bad boy, then.” He smacks the top of the seeding machine happily.

Another slow blink. “... Right. Um, please try not to touch the equipment, okay? It’s very expensive.” Steve turns for the door, wondering just how long he’s going to be stuck doing this before he gets to see Bucky again. “If you’ll change into the gown. There are socks there too, if you want. Try and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back with your dosage and then we can get started.”

“Awesome. Hey, are there any snacks?”

Steve heads down to pharmacy to get the guy’s treatment dose. There’s a young female tech manning the counter and she’s visibly flustered as she retrieves the order, blushing as if it’s actual jizz she’s handing over to Steve. He winks at her, amused, and tells her to relax.

Upstairs, the receptionist is MIA so Steve hands out clipboards of check-in paperwork to the other patients who’ve shown up in the waiting area. There’s a young Korean woman and her very involved mother who are up next. The patient herself is a legal adult and seems unconcerned at being there, but the mother keeps trying to pull Steve aside where her daughter can’t hear so that she can ask thinly-veiled questions about virginity and whether they have “small sizes” for the machines.

“Ma’am, just fill out the paperwork. If you have specific concerns I’ll be happy to discuss them in the privacy of the procedure room.” He shoots the pushy woman’s daughter another look and the two of them lock eyes. She rolls hers as if to say, ‘I know’.

Steve can’t say he’s having the time of his life, but he can see why Banner thought seeding machine duty would be a good enough distraction. It isn’t exactly rocket science, is infact a very routine outpatient procedure. But dealing with the daily slew of patients coming into the hospital’s oobgyn ward to be therapeutically inseminated by machines is still a lot to handle, interpersonally at least. There’s a lot of comforting Steve has to do, a lot of reassuring and laying out the facts for the ones who have never gone through it before. Some omegas are scared or embarrassed, some are just grumpy and indignant, but some have real trauma regarding penetration. It’s Steve’s job to try and get them as comfortable as possible for their procedures. It’s always a mixed bag with how people react to the more … mechanical aspects of it.

Because the truth of the matter is that seeding machines are basically just super high tech, super unsexy versions of fucking machines. Nobody says that (except for the stoner back in procedure room B), and some effort is clearly put forth by the companies who build the things to try and make them look as bland and as non-sexual as possible. Most models that Steve’s ever seen have plastic casing over all the gears and pistons, and the dildos aren’t exactly designed to be perfectly anatomical. But at the end of the day it’s still a phallic piece of rubber, with an inflating base, fixed onto a thrusting apparatus that administers semen intravaginally.

It’s a fucking machine.

And on another note: Everybody thinks that Bruce-fucking-Banner is such a nice, mild mannered, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly type of guy. Steve used to think that too, given that the man is very quiet and unassuming. It’s the first impression he gives off: Mr. Nice Guy. But Banner has another side of him that’s kind of horrible, Steve’s found. He gets his shits and giggles in sneaky ways, by surreptitiously ribbing his friends and forcing his subordinate coworkers into shit like this.

“This” being things like a sexually frustrated housewife who’s made an appointment just for the heck of it and turns out to have no medical need for the procedure. Steve has it out with her in procedure room A, trying with all his might not to offend the lady when he explains that insurance isn’t going to cover her coming in just to get her jollies. “I’m sure there are cheaper ways, ma’am,” he says, face flaming at how unashamed she is about the whole debacle. “Your husband?”

“Psh. You haven’t seen my Roddie’s thing. It ain’t up to par, Doc.”

“Online shopping then. And it’s Nurse, not Doctor.”

It’s the first time he’s basically instructed a patient to just go home and buy a sex toy.

Then there’s the crowning glory of the day: an A/o couple whom Steve walks in on who’ve decided to engage in oral sex of the face-sitting variety up on the procedure bed … whilst the seeding machine is still locked into its knotting phase.

“Ma’am!”

“... It’s not what it looks like!”

Steve escapes that one with some choice images scarred onto his retinas, the tablet held up in front of his face to prevent further trauma, and a gruff parting rebuke of, “Get off of him and put your pants back on. You’ll have to go out to the waiting area until your husband is finished.”

“... Just five more minutes?”

Lying freak had claimed her omega was nervous and needed his hand held. Bull. shit.

Back in procedure room B, Steve finds the stoner arranged comfortably on the table, socked feet already up in the stirrups and a mini bag of cool ranch Doritos in his hands, ostensibly procured from the vending machines out in the hall. Hopefully he grabbed them before he changed into the backless paper gown.

“Comfortable?” Steve asks.

“Oh yeah. The nurse gave me lube so I’m raring to go.”

“... Great.” Steve watches him crunch a handful of chips. He’d rather a comfortable patient than an uncomfortable one, but this is a whole ‘nother level. “Erm, do you have any questions before we get started?”

“Do the dicks come in other sizes?” he asks, and Steve tries not to choke on his own spit. “Cause if you’ve got a little bigger I wouldn’t mind. Or ya know, if you’ve got ones that are ribbed or bumpy or sumthin’.” He starts to giggle.

Steve fights to keep a straight face. This guy is so high. “Sorry,” he says, focusing on injecting the machine’s cartridge with the prescribed dose of semen. “S’kind of a one-size fits all deal.” He walks around to check the phallus for proper positioning. They do all they can to keep the process clinical, but the attending technician still has to guide the rubber attachment up close to the patient’s entrance. “Selection’s kind of limited.”

“That’s okay. Mm.” The guy’s got his eyes closed and he smiles dopily up at the ceiling as he feels the attachment touch him. “Ooh.”

“Okay?” Steve checks.

“Yeah,” he sighs, then snickers, “S’bigger than my girlfriend anyway.”

Steve shakes silently and turns away just in case the guy opens his eyes and sees him laughing at him. “Okay then.” He presses the button on the machine for initial penetration, watching the guy’s face for any hint of discomfort, unlikely as it may be. “Still okay?”

“Mm.” He wiggles his hips. “So far so good.”

Steve steps away to the little partition wall that’s built into the room. Behind, there’s a control panel where he can sit and operate the machine remotely, unseen by the person he’s treating but still able to communicate throughout the course of the procedure if needed. Some omegas prefer the privacy, but in this case Steve just wants to avoid busting out laughing in front of his patient. He’s supposed to be a professional.

“Come on, Doctor Steve! Let’s get this rodeo started!”

Some patients make it damn hard, though.

Steve has supervised no less than a dozen procedures by the time Clint shows up. “Hey,” Clint says when they run into each other out in the hall. “Banner said you were free to come with me?”

Steve’s heart starts beating faster as he immediately remembers what it is he’s been trying to distract himself from these past few hours. He checks the patient schedule on his tablet. “Got somebody coming off the knot in … two minutes, then I can turn it over to my charge nurse.”

Clint nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He taps his foot.

“So?” Steve presses. “How’d it go?” The anxiety that he’s somehow managed to tamp down since that morning rises all over again as he waits for Clint to give him an update on Bucky. “Is he okay?”

“Of course he’s okay. What do you think we’re doing down there, waterboarding him?”

Steve purses his lips. “No. I just can’t imagine what you’ve been doing with him for the past three—” he checks the time on his tablet. “Four hours. Christ, it’s almost two o’clock.” He really hopes that somebody fed Bucky a suitable lunch.

“Education, mainly. Since he’s just a kid and doesn’t have a clue what he’s getting himself into,” Clint says, a little more aloof with Steve than he normally would be. He’s been that way all day, and Steve knows it’s because he disapproves of the course of action they’re taking. Steve tries not to take it personally, knows that Clint just feels like he has to stand up for the rights of his own designation. It’s kind of his actual job, after all. If Steve weren’t there, he’d hope that Bucky would always have somebody like Clint in his corner. “The rest has been a mix of waiting for people to show up, paperwork, counseling,” Clint lists. “Legal brought a team down to make sure all the right stuff got signed to cover the hospital’s ass. And the courts sent over a clerk and one of those advocate lawyers. That’s the closest anything got to an interrogation, I promise.”

“I thought the courts approved it already?” Steve says, and Clint narrows his eyes at him.

“This was to make sure he understands everything, Steve. It’s kind of important. He’ll be legally bound to you.”

“For the next few months,” Steve agrees, idly wondering when Bucky’s exact birthday is. He thinks it was something like March or April but can’t quite remem—

“Nnno,” Clint says slowly, dragging the word out like he thinks Steve’s an idiot. “Indefinitely. You two are bonded, remember?”

Steve blinks. “He’s about to turn nineteen. This was just a stopgap until he—” Clint sighs and makes a long suffering face. “Clint, what?”

“You’re bonded. That automatically takes it from a custody order, to his registration as your omega. Nothing goes away until you two march yourselves back into a courthouse and undo it, buddy,” he says. “You didn’t know that?” When Steve just stands there like a dummy, Clint softens and steps forward to pat him on the shoulder. “It’s indefinite until then, and if the alpha party doesn’t sign for the dissolution, it doesn’t get dissolved. Ever.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips. No wonder everybody has been making such a big deal out of this. “Right. I guess I just didn’t think of—”

“He’d be trapped,” Clint grunts, not happy about it. “They say things are changing. In a few years, maybe. But until then, we’ve got to live with the laws that are on the books. And they favor you, not us. But what else is new?”

Steve tucks his head down, feeling bad for his privilege. “So he knows all this now?” He thinks of Bucky: downstairs, alone, tucked behind some conference table with all these people telling him all these intimidating things, shoving papers at him to sign, overwhelming him. Probably feeding him crap from the vending machines for lunch. “And he signed off on it?”

“Kid trusts you,” Clint says, shaking his head. “Yeah he signed. He said he knew you’d let him go, when and if he wanted it.”

“‘If’?”

“He’s finishing up with the shrinks now. I think they were assessing for dynamic dysphoria, last I popped my head in. Figured I’d come up here and make sure you’re free, since he’s almost done. Bruce said he’d be sending you home early whenever we discharge Barnes.”

“Barnes,” Steve repeats dully, thoughts whirling.

“His last name?” Clint snaps his fingers in Steve’s face with a scowl. “Jesus, Rogers.”

“Right, right. I knew that.”

The sister: Rebecca. Her last name was Barnes. It hadn’t yet occurred to Steve that they might share it. His mind is still stuck on the fact that he’s going to have legal custody of Bucky for a lot longer than he’d realized. A registered omega. Steve’s mother had been a registered omega. To his father. It’s what married couples did, not …

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Lemme just, uh, grab a shower. Then I can head down.”

“Um … didn’t you have a patient?” Clint checks his phone. “It’s been way more than two minutes.”

“Oh! Shit.” Steve shakes himself and turns to hurry back in the direction of procedure room A, where Ms. Jeong is probably wondering what the hell’s happened to him and why she’s still stuck on a knot.

It’s nearing four o’clock by the time they leave the hospital. Steve immediately gets them to a drive through, since he’s highly displeased to learn that Bucky’s “lunch” that afternoon consisted of cheez-its and a bag of peanut m&ms. He tells Bucky to order whatever he wants, no limits, and so when they pull out of the drive through to head home, it’s with a bag full of greasy burgers.

“Sometimes I jus’ luff shitty food,” Bucky moans through his third cheeseburger, then swallows and beams at Steve. “Like, genuinely enjoy the shitty things that make it shitty, ya know? Processed cheese, squishy fries, compressed meat product, all of it.”

“Yeah. We really don’t need to talk about the fact that you put fries on your burgers, though.”

Steve parks at the curb and they sit in the car to finish mowing through their food before they head inside. He has a bad feeling that he’s going to make Bucky fat very fast, because so far nothing has made him feel more satisfied and content than watching his omega be well-fed. “We’ll have to stock up on good stuff to keep in the apartment,” he says. “Healthy stuff.”

“Mm.” Bucky is licking the salt off his fingers and shoving all their wrappers into the bag as they get out of the car and start down the sidewalk. “Can you cook?”

“Eh, middlin’,” Steve says. “Can you?”

“Are you kidding?” Bucky snorts. “The Children think cooking is ‘women’s work’. You think they let me anywhere near a stove?”

“Oh.”

"I wouldn't mind learning, though. I always liked watching those competition shows on the Food Network, ya know?"

Steve fishes out his keys and gestures at the building. “This is me. Or … us, I guess.” He clears his throat and watches Bucky looking around as they step inside the building.

“Wow,” he says, standing there in the middle of the foyer with his small bag of possessions, head craned back as he looks up the winding stairwell.

Steve’s been nervous about this. He likes where he lives, but he’s never brought someone home before. It’s a nice place but nothing fancy, an older building with less than twenty units and more historical charm than amenities. There’s no elevator, and the basement laundry situation isn’t pretty, but the super’s nice and he only seems to rent to at least halfway decent people (which means nice neighbors, which means less drama). That’s all Steve really cares about at the end of the day. That, and that Bucky likes it, too. “Um, prepare yourself. We’re all the way up top, so ...” They start up the stairs, Steve moving slower than he normally would to make sure that Bucky's okay. He feels better about it when they get up there and Bucky jokes lightheartedly that he'll never be out of shape as long as he lives with Steve.

Inside the apartment, Steve gives him the tour, short as it is. “Kitchen, couch, bathroom—oh that’s just the utility closet. Erm … and then the, ah, the bedroom.” He stands back in the doorway and watches as Bucky takes it all in.

Bucky sets his bag down on the bed, then turns back around to face Steve with a shy smile. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks. Sorry it’s so small.” Steve scratches behind his ear. “S’only ever been me.”

“It smells like you.” Bucky’s eyes are still flicking around to different points in the room. “It’s got character, texture.”

“Texture?”

“Mmhm. I like it.”

Steve feels a little bit of his insecurity slip away at Bucky’s honest appraisal. “Um, over here’s the closet.” He pulls on the chain that lights up the old bulb in the room’s lone walk-in closet. It’s currently full of Steve’s clothes, but he figures that adds to his scent being built up thick, which will be a good thing if Bucky ever decides to nest in there. “We’ll have to get some bedding,” he says, eyeing up the bare hardwood floor. “Nesting materials and stuff.”

Bucky does a turn inside the closet, fingering the pants leg of a pair of Steve’s scrubs that are hanging up in there. “You’re changing your whole life just to help me,” he murmurs. “All of this, everything you’ve done …” he smiles shyly up at Steve. “You’re too nice to me, you know that?”

Well. Steve feels his face heat and he shoves his hands into his pockets to avoid touching Bucky. “‘Bout time someone was.”

Bucky steps closer, and closer, until Steve feels like he has to take his hands out of his pockets and place them on Bucky’s waist because he’s just so close. Bucky leans in and kisses him, and Steve can see it coming from a mile away, but he’s too stupefied for a second to do anything about it. It’s really just a peck on the lips, but when Bucky pulls back Steve feels the need to say, “Buck … you don’t have to do that.” Bucky blinks at him, and he elaborates, “You don’t have to be physical with me. Or at least, not in a sexual way.” He curls his fingers in at Bucky’s waist, feeling the soft fabric of his tee shirt. “We’ll be close, but I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re expected to kiss me or touch me like that.”

A little wrinkle of displeasure appears between the omega’s eyebrows. “But, I thought …”

Steve waits, but when Bucky doesn’t say anything else, he pulls the boy into a hug. He rubs his back soothingly and scents at his glands. The bite mark there is scabbed over by now. “Just want you to be safe and comfortable, okay Honey?”

Bucky is still in his arms for a minute, but eventually he hugs back, scenting calm. “Okay, Alpha.”

Steve’s eyes slip closed. He’s not going to get tired of hearing that anytime soon.

They decide to celebrate Bucky’s newfound freedom by going out for a fancy dinner. Steve doesn’t eat out much, is usually too consumed by his work or else too tired after just having gotten off from a shift, but it’s really nice to be able to enjoy a whole meal in a fancy setting for a change, chatting with Bucky and getting to know each other a little more.

They eat early, so that after dinner there’s still time to go shopping for anything Bucky might need, now that he’s living with Steve. Rebecca had brought Bucky a backpack of clothes from home, but it’s not much, so they start at Target, buying a few more things for Bucky to wear.

“Guess I’ll have to get used to elastic waistbands, pretty soon,” Bucky grumbles when they do a curious turn about the maternity department. “Ugh.”

Steve laughs and consoles him that at least it won’t be for a while yet. Then they wind up walking the aisles of Twig ‘n’ Tuft, Steve pushing a cart while Bucky obeys the order he’s been given to throw in anything his heart desires. There are a lot of soft things for nesting in the store, and Bucky seems drawn to them all. Steve feels something warm and pleased settle in his chest as he watches his omega trailing fingers over all the chenille blankets and fluffy pillows on the shelves. Bucky is happy, Steve is making Bucky happy. It feels so satisfying, and for the first time, Steve really starts to think that this whole thing between them might turn out to be alright.

Art: @hopelessartgeek

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28 notes · View notes

official-nrc-prophet · 7 months ago

Note

yeah, I'm okay now. I'm just warning you because I find that they can be very friendly and silly, but if you piss them or Azul off? You're pretty much done for.

Floyd has kind of a switch he flips inside his head, sometimes, it flips by itself if you make him mad, basically "normal goofy Floyd and terrifying angry Floyd", Jade has this too, only he expresses it differently. For Floyd, he goes into threatening destructive "I'll get what I want to no matter what" mode, for Jade, he goes into scheming "I'll destroy you from the inside out" insanely calm mode, but they’re both WILDLY irritated when they go into these modes, and right now? They're both in it from what I can tell. Everybody at Octa is avoiding them at the moment

-💧

Yall are so mean to Jade for no reason, he's just silly. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Just a cutie.

#atlas speaks #twisted wonderland #twst rp #twst oc rp #twisted wonderland rp #atlas predictions #twst roleplay #twst #jade leech

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batsplat · 7 months ago

Note

I keep seeing people say Agostini likes Marc and I think you had post which included what Agostini thinks about the rosquez situation.

I was wondering if you knew if they have actually interacted or how this fondness started. And if it's continued.

Apologies if you've already made a post about this and i missed it 😊

And thank you for all the responses to my prev asks!!! You are like my favourite grandparent i sidle up to and ask to reveal some new thing of the MotoGP world. Which you do so patiently 💛. ( I'm sorry for the grandparent comparison i couldn't find a better one 😔😔😔😔😔).

ahaha that's super sweet. and honestly, I don't think there's really a story here, beyond 'ago quite likes him'! they did a joint interview of sorts at the laureus awards in 2015 which is worth a watch - which came after that 2014 season in which a big talking point was how it looked like marc might be able to match ago's numbers in 'winning everything'... also you have that presser clip from 2013 where the riders are asked ago or hailwood, and marc says "if everybody say ago, ago" and laughs, which. I mean. I'm sure respected ago just fine but it's probably worth pointing out he's not exactly an enthusiast, is he

but yeah, beyond wading into a couple of marc controversies, ago's definitely spoken warmly about him quite frequently over the years. as early as 2014, he was saying that if marc matched his records, he deserved to do so - and in 2020, he said marc didn't need to switch bikes to prove his greatness. he compared marc to one of his own big rivals, hailwood, in 2019, he spoke with sympathy about marc's switch to ducati at the back end of last year and sounded confident marc could win again (+ here), and made similar comments early this year and likewise was fairly encouraging in may. in 2023, he also spoke about marc's capacity to put on a show. plus, he also said in 2018 that marc and valentino's relationship doesn't matter as long as "they both make us have fun and give us a show", and also that "they do not have to marry". giacomo agostini homophobic dog question mark

a lot of it just seems kinda generic 'legend of the past being nice about the new kid', like say doohan was with valentino but without the mentorship angle. but yeah, ago does seem fonder of marc than he does of marc's contemporaries? with valentino, let's be honest, part of it is that he was the first to really show up and challenge some of ago's records (even steal some of them like premier class wins) - plus he's italian so there's really more direct competition than there is with marc. but y'know, obviously ago's been asked about both of them gunning for his records (generally win number for valentino and title number for marc)

you can read tonal differences into those answers if you so choose, but you can also say he's expressing roughly the same sentiment for both (if you so choose). ago did also joke in early 2020 that he'd beat them both:

(again, this is obviously a joke and I'm not going to read anything into it lol, just thought I'd include it)

ago does have retired athlete talking head syndrome where he does... y'know, have a lot of opinions and has shared quite a lot of those opinions. which... okay, I'm aware this isn't really what this ask was about, but. look. I just have to bring in jorge lorenzo at this point. this is only tenuously relevant, but I think it kinda provides a fun contrast with how utterly drama-free the dynamic between marc and ago is... AND gives some much needed context for how ago was relating to some other star riders of this century

ago and jorge had always gotten on pretty well - and ago joked back in the day that jorge had to stop valentino from getting too many more wins. it is probably worth mentioning that in that 2013 clip I linked to above, all the riders at the presser were asked the 'ago or hailwood' question. in response, jorge, that old simp, essentially went 'actually the goat is valentino'... but that's really isn't about ago as much as it is about jorge's relationship with valentino being *gestures vaguely* complicated. weird. complicated. anyway, look, ago and jorge got on well, had done so for years. then, in may of 2020, shortly after jorge's retirement and with no racing whatsoever going on during lockdown, the two of them got into a PUBLIC SPAT!! (low key between this and the dovi feud picking up again at the end of the year, jorge was really working overtime to make motogp less depressing that year)

the argument was prompted by ago's comments about jorge's time with ducati and honda:

so basically he's saying jorge was mid for three years because his head wasn't in it. which is... a debatable assessment of jorge's 2017-19, but let's just run with it. now jorge obviously isn't the type to just let this kind of thing go unchallenged, so he hit back:

for some reason. jorge's father also got involved, as he has an unfortunate tendency of doing:

(I'm gonna be so real, personally I wouldn't be particularly flattered if one of my parents suggested I could challenge one of my main career rivals 'on my day'. but anyways)

and then mr agostini in turn doubled down and told jorge that 'the truth hurts':

note the bit about how ago had sided with jorge against valentino! it is broadly true that ago has often been very complimentary of jorge, including to the detriment of valentino - and apparently that might have created tension with valentino's team. ago also added the following bit and it's kinda even more brutal:

so basically - ducati didn't pay jorge that much to win three races. funnily enough. jorge did not take kindly to these comments... and then he hit back on instagram (all of this is still in may 2020 btw, literally the only thing we had going for us). here's the text from the post:

jorge lorenzo a proud fellow warrior in the 'it's useless to compare different eras' campaign, saluting a real one

so, after jorge had said that ago doesn't know what he's talking about, that this kind of criticism was 'improper' from a legend like ago... we'd actually finally gotten to the point where ago wanted to clamp down on the controversy. here's what he had to say:

he doesn't want controversy! it's not his fault jorge didn't win! jorge didn't win a title with either ducati or honda! what a shame!

okay, there is arguably a slight difference in rhetoric between saying 'well I can't say he won at honda when he factually didn't!!!' and 'ducati paid him a lot and got nothing out of it' - BUT obviously this was still a bit of an olive branch from ago. unfortunately, we've gotten no updates on whether ago did ever reach out privately, but we did get jorge's response. and jorge... kinda accepts the peace...? but also not really!

so to paraphrase jorge here, he's basically going 'sure fine I'll accept the peace but I also know ago will start the same shit again when he has a microphone in front of him!!' - and also makes it clear that jorge will not shut up about ago chatting shit, unlike those other cowards who just let ago get away with it (including other champions). jorge then goes on to talk about their personal relationship and ago's past support of him:

and then jorge goes on to stridently defend his time with the ducati project - pointing out that, without detracting from what casey had done, it was a very good bike back when casey won the 2007 title:

(yes, obviously there is a rider who was doing rather a lot more with that bike during the same time span as jorge was there - who you'll note jorge very much does not name. I suppose jorge's argument would be that this particular rider had been with the team since 2013. without getting too much into 2017-18 discourse in a post that really isn't about that, it is broadly true jorge just Was Not Clicking with that bike for way too long, but he was running dovi pretty close in 2018 until he got injured at aragon. which is also because dovi was having a pretty ragged first half of the season himself but y'know, six of one half a dozen of the other. also low key those three jorge wins did get during his time at ducati massively flatter how that stretch of his career gets perceived a few years later, but again. this isn't all too relevant. just some historical context!)

and jorge rounds up the whole thing by demanding an actual apology:

and, lastly, here's what ago said in june:

anyway, that's basically it as the public spat went, but it did still give us some nice little gems. you'll note that jorge believes ago was supporting him against valentino - "what I know is that in the duel I had with rossi he wanted me to win races more, for the titles and all that". and then, of course, there's the fun bit where jorge says that ago has also said inaccurate things about valentino before: "because he has also said things about valentino many times that did not correspond to reality". jorge going full 'enemy of my enemy' about valentino on this issue is just extremely him, not least because that is a rivalry where, according to him!! ago basically always was rooting for jorge! and YET jorge's like 'valentino may not speak up on this issue but I!! will!!' I honestly have no clue if there's anything specific jorge's referring to here that ago is getting wrong about valentino... but again ago does have retired athlete talking head syndrome so really it could be anything

what this does do is give us a little bit of confirmation that ago probably isn't the world's biggest valentino rossi fan (obviously, valentino wouldn't let you know that kind of thing so it's great when you've got someone a little more talkative like jorge around). jorge didn't have to bring in valentino here - he did so of his own volition, because he apparently disagreed quite strongly with something ago had said about one of jorge's fiercest rivals. by contrast, there's nothing comparable you can point to with marc... which, given that we've established ago has run his mouth about past champions, would lead you to the conclusion that ago really is a bit of a marc fan. all things considered, ago seems genuinely fond of the little guy! he's never really talked him down, or taken another rider's side against marc! why? ... unfortunately, I have no clue. maybe it is linked to ago's feelings towards valentino, maybe it's completely unrelated and he just likes marc a lot, maybe he's a fan of him as a rider or his personality or something else. there's not really anything to suggest they're particularly close - for instance, I don't think marc has had dinner with ago's family like jorge has - but he generally always seems happy to offer up a lot of marc prop without any qualifications. it just seems like quite an uncomplicated relationship, and given ago's been fairly vocal within the past year about marc's switch to ducati, about how he could win again etc etc... he's perhaps quite enjoyed following that story. mostly, there's clearly just a lot of mutual respect there... and if ago did ever find cause to criticise marc as strongly as he did jorge, well, it's a lot less likely marc would decide to clap back on instagram. that'll help, I suppose

#i was going through the ago/marc quotes and they're like. nice. but it's also quite generic uno i didn't have much to say about them #dumb instagram beef from 2020 though?? that's my speciality #jorge obviously also has massive retired athlete talking head syndrome let's be CLEAR. happens to a lot of them #//#brr brr #batsplat responds #yoro #alien tag #jorge's whole relationship to vale/marc is so funny he really is their biggest hater and their biggest fan #they could shoot someone in front of him and within 2-3 years he'd be like 'well..... low key goat behaviour what can you say'

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