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sheisjoeschateau · 8 months

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART III

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: mega plot-driven smut ahead in this part of the story. you've been warned. MINORS, DNI. 18+

***

Despite everything, you and Steve both get through battling Vecna. You both grin and bear it. You both set aside your differences when the moment calls for it.

Just like you have before. Many times.

And in the midst of it all, you can't help but wonder about your uncle. How he's doing. If he's somewhere in his bunker still, hopefully drinking less (ideally, not at all) and keeping up his phone calls with Joyce. You'd told her to keep tabs on him, and you also told your uncle to keep tabs on her. They needed each other. You had the kids and the teens, but they needed each other. And sure, your uncle has you. Always. But you have to work, and babysit, and hang around a guy who hates your guts because the circumstances won't permit otherwise.

Eddie and Robin really stick up for you. They do. They really like you. Steve can’t stand it.

Even Nancy doesn’t mind you. Honestly, she’s scared of you more than anything. Steve doesn’t care.

The kids love you. Steve won’t make them hate you. He never would. But he won’t endorse their kind sentiments about you either.

More groups are formed, along with more plans. Scary, life-threatening plans.

You stay behind with Dustin and Eddie, knowing that Steve is quietly a basket case over the concept leaving Dustin alone without having him there to protect him from all this shit, the way he has before. With the demodogs, the Russians, and everything up to this point. That kid is his brother. His son.

It’s the only time that Steve tells you thank you.

And he sincerely means it.

By the grace of some unspeakable force, you manage to not only keep Dustin alive...but also Eddie. The bats have done their damage, and you've got some damage yourself. Though not nearly as bad as Eddie. You can withstand yours with adrenaline and the sheer need to protect one of your kids and get this metalhead back to the real world so that he can get proper medical attention.

When Steve and the girls all get back to the three of you there, after all the shit hits the fan - you, Steve, Nancy, Robin and Dustin all manage to get Eddie back across the gate and get him majorly patched up. Thanks to Dr. Owens.

You keep Eddie hidden at Murray's bunker. You're shocked to find it empty, your worry growing more every single minute. But Steve tries to assure you that your uncle is likely fine, probably just out to eat or something. However... even he knows that is not true. Murray does not go anywhere.

"Bauman," he's saying to you, softly. So softly. Softer than he's ever spoken to you once. "He's gonna be okay. I promise. We're here, alright?"

Two days later, Jonathan and his Cali crew all show up. Nancy and him are reunited.

And you watch Steve break.

He doesn’t let it show, not really. But you see it. Both you and Robin do. You let her comfort him. He needs his best friend, much more than he needs you. Especially in this situation. You are undoubtedly the last source of comfort for him in this specific instance.

You reunite with your Uncle Murray, who has returned with Joyce and — to your surprise — a very much alive Hopper. It’s a beautiful reunion, as you all hug tightly.

You all fucking lived, bitch.

Given the new flurry of debris-snow-shit in the air, you all end up having to take shelter.

Steve volunteers his house, given that his parents fled to their vacation home and he told them he wasn’t going. They ditch him, so he has the house all to himself. This time, he doesn’t have to be alone though. He has his real family.

You all move into the Harrington House. Lord knows it’s big enough. But it’s also really tight, for two people who can’t stand each other unless there’s a really ugly monster guy waltzing around that needs to be killed along with his multi-species army of little uglies.

Given the close quarters, on top of the fact that you all can’t leave the house much unless it’s for supplies, you and Steve have no choice but to coexist.

He still resents you, especially seeing Nancy and Jonathan are now getting along again and seem to be doing better. But it's much more subdued now, and you both find a way to talk. Which happens mainly because of you, initiating.

You learn more about Steve's home life, given the pictures everywhere throughout the house. They're all pretty stiff, lacking warmth. You figured that Steve was a pretty lonely trust fund baby, and being that you're a lonely child you can relate to the loneliness that comes with that. Not the trust fund part. Just the only-child-syndrome part, which you know perfectly well forces you to either become very well acquainted with yourself...or hate yourself even more. Steve clearing did not lean into becoming his own source of reliability and companionship, the way that you did. And it made you understand him better. It made you understand why he needed to be around the likes of Carol and Tommy H. He did not know how to be alone with himself.

"I think my dad and I don't even like the same beer," Steve scoffs, allowing himself a humorless chuckle. You don't laugh with him, instead giving him a soft look. An apology with your eyes.

"And my mom, she just...I dunno. Sometimes, I wonder why she never left him."

You let Steve reveal as little or as much as he wants to. It just depends on the day.

The two of you watch out for the kids. You both go with them to visit Max in the hospital. You even initiate finding a way to get her to stay there while in a coma, thanks to enlisting the help of your uncle to help enlist the help of Dr. Owens. The kids love you for that.

Steve doesn’t love you… But he appreciates you.

A lot. He's beginning to find appreciation for you, for a lot of things.

Your uncle clocks the very niche tension between the two of you, now that you’re all under the same roof and he’s given no choice but to.

And damn, it makes him curious. He is, after all, the witch doctor of love…

Nevertheless, Murray takes his time choosing when to strike.

As you and Steve both help nurse Eddie back to health, and read to Max in her coma (which leads to both of you just simply talking), and make the kids laugh together, and even make conversation with Nancy and Jonathan (…it’s very double date ish) Murray watches his niece — and mannnnnn, is he amuuuuuused.

One night, you and Steve stay up to share some drinks with the adults. It’s the first time that the two of you actually make each other really laugh, heartily. The drinks help.

That’s sort of Murray’s plan. Vodka is, after all, the holy grail.

Even Eddie joins, along with Robin. But Steve sits next to you. Not his best friend, or the new friend he’s made in the metalhead. Nope, he sits his perfect, hunky ass that makes all the ladies drool right next to little ole you.

And damn, do you both laugh.

Murray’s never seen you laugh that hard with anyone in his life. He wonders if you’ve ever laughed that way at all.

And the way that Harrington looks at you? Especially when you’re not looking… Holy shit.

And the way you look at him the same way... makes Murray grin ear to ear like a mischievous kid with the plan to wreak havoc.

Hopper and Joyce are so settled into their relationship, and Jonathan seems to be winning back the love of Nancy. Eddie and Robin are so single it hurts, but it's legendary too. And you? Steve? Well, you guys are mortal enemies. And yet somehow, sitting here in the Harrington's living room with glasses of chilled vodka, belly-laughing over anything -- you and Steve exude more chemistry than all of them combined.

So when everyone goes to bed, and Murray catches you alone, he grills you. Not like the others. Nah, you’re family. He’ll cut you some slack.

…not much, though.

It sobers you right up.

"Do not tell me for one second that you don't think he's gorgeous," your uncle is saying in a low voice. You're both standing in his bedroom, having fetched him a tall glass of water which turned out just be a way to fucking lure you into his witchdoctor trap.

"I love you Uncle Murray. I really do. But this theory? -- is not one of your other bullseye's."

"Face it, kiddo," your uncle is smirking. "Your uncle's never wrong. You're just never the one on the other end of his lectures when he's making astute observations. You're always contributing to it. But this time? You're the leading lady, darling."

"False."

"You like Steve."

"Murray...!"

"You like Steve..."

You try to tell your uncle that everything he is saying is nonsense. Steve hates you. He absolutely hates you. Loathes and despises you, and plans to do so until you’re all particles of dust.

“Plus, he is so fucking annoying and whiny and entitled and has zero self respect unless it’s up against someone who calls him out for his shit,” you tell your uncle, gesturing to yourself on the last part. “Steve Harrington is a cocky guy who would just rather suffer in his own misery than ever see or lean into being this...this incredible man that he's...capable of being, the role model he has become to those kids, who love him, they love the human most deserving of being put first —”

.................

…oh fuck.

The silence is deafening. Murray’s smirk and all-knowing glare only adds to your being aware of what you just said to him, and admitted to yourself, out loud.

“Oh…oh so we do love Steve.”

Your uncle’s words are the cherry on top of the cake you just baked, and didn’t know you had the ingredients to make.

You don’t sleep that night.

***

The next morning, you and Steve both sit with Max.

"Wondering what she wrote in yours?"

Steve is nodding at the stack of letters on the bedside table. You all left them there, promising yourselves not to open them. Because she will wake up.

Lucas took it hard, Max dying. You'd been there to hold him, comfort him, along with Steve. You both watched him burst into tears numerous times, sometimes sobbing uncontrollably, despite the fact that she was somehow still here. It broke both your hearts, but you both got through it with him. Together.

And while the other kids were taking it hard too...so fucking hard...it was Steve who carried the most guilt. Remorse, anguish and guilt.

"I failed my kid," Steve had told you at the hospital once. You looked at him with a furrowed brow and concerned eyes.

"Steve, no you didn't."

His voice shook, eyes drowning in nightmarish thoughts. "I wasn't there for her. I wasn't -- wasn't..."

"You could never fail those kids. Not even if you tried."

He didn't believe you. But he wanted to. You had squeezed his hand that day, sitting in the waiting room. And to your surprise, not only did he let you...but he squeezed it back, letting your hands rest that way for an hour as you fell asleep in the seats before being woken up.

And now, sitting in one of his guest rooms while Max lay asleep in the coma still, you can see that guilt in him is spreading.

Steve is holding the letter that she gave to him, and you ask him if he’s wanting to read it.

Steve snorts. "God, you kidding? She'll wake up just to kill me before going right back to sleep."

You smirk, biting back a real laugh. “True.”

But Steve looks conflicted. He fiddles with the letter in his hands, wanting to tear it open. You know that he does.

“…want me to read it out loud to you instead? She can kill me in your place.”

Steve chuckles at that.

...but he doesn’t say no.

In fact, after biting his lip for a minute and thinking, he finds himself nodding. Yes. Please, read it to me, he’s thinking.

So you do.

You take the letter and read it to him. You read him the words that only a little sister could write to a big brother who she loves and wishes she will grow up to be like. You read him words that make him light up like a Christmas tree, yet cause him a painful ache deep within his bones. You read him a letter of love that no one ever took the time to write, let alone express, to him his entire life.

Steve fights tears. He bites them back, successfully. You’re the last person he ever wants to see him vulnerable. Hell, he can’t even see himself like that without judging his own self harshly. He can only imagine that you will, too.

He doesn’t know, though, that not only would you never judge him for that. But selfishly, you wish he would feel safe with you. Or God, someone at least. Just not Nancy. Someone who deserves him wholeheartedly.

"Steve," you speak softly.

He's staring into space, zoned out. But then, he finally looks over at you. He sees the kindness in him, and it almost takes his breath away. The way that you look at him...he just never thought you could...that you could --

"You're all of these things. Everything she wrote in this? You're all of it. And then some. You're the hero all those kids dream of being when they grow up. You're their favorite person. The one they trust, go to for everything. Even if you don't think that they do, they do."

He listens, unable to move. Speak. Breathe.

"You are...a great person, Steve Harrington."

***

That night, there’s a knock on your door. You’ve been given the guest room upstairs with no bunk mate. Unlike most of the people in the house. But given that Joyce and Hopper are together now, and El sleeps in Max’s room to keep watch, the four younger boys share a room with Eddie, Nancy is with Jonathan, Erica sleeps at her own house and Robin shares Steve’s room since she splits her time here and at home — you and Murray got the solo rooms.

Steve is now grateful for those sleeping arrangements tonight.

Because when you open the door, he’s on the other side. He looks sad, conflicted and lost. Like his mind is racing at a million miles an hour, yet can’t think of anything to say. He’s tongue tied, just staring at you expectantly…

What is he expecting?

“What’s wrong?” you ask. “Is it Max?”

Something about your question makes Steve brows pinch together. Like it’s suddenly confusing him even more. But he doesn’t speak.

You wait patiently. But truth be told, you are anxious as fuck. Because damn, he’s pretty. He is so stupid pretty. And fuck it’s annoying. His lips are just the right shape in a pout, and it’s really fucking annoy —

His lips are crashing into yours before you can even finish dissecting them.

Steve is kissing you like life depends on it. Gentle at first, but eager. Determined.

And when you both pulls back -- you don’t hesitate for more than a solid 2-3 seconds, your eyes shocked while his eyes silently ask, is this okay?

Your lips crashing back against his answers — yes.

Steve is a hurricane of both madness and all things serene in the ways that he touches your body. He explores your skin with his lips and hands, as if he has all the time in the world. The curve of your jaw and neck. The jut of your collarbones. The feel of your clavicle, which leads him to the shape of your tits and nipples. He cherishes your body, hungrily exploring it. It’s heated, hot and heavy. He licks a stripe down your abdomen to the waistband of your sweatpants. The way his brown irises look up at you, all round and doe eyed, makes the back of your throat groan with need. It’s not loud or brash, nor is it strained and quiet. It’s soft but certain. Steve melts at it, his fingers curling one by one around the band of your sweatpants, his eyes still asking — please?

You’re nodding without even having to hear a word out of him. And Steve pulls.

Euphoria is the feeling of Steve’s tongue exploring your folds. It’s the sound of him sighing into your portal in pure pleasure, and the way he sucks your clit with fervency yet flicks it with supple patience. His hands knead into your thighs, one of them reaching to squeeze your hips so that he can pull himself up to you and let you taste yourself on his tongue. He wraps an arm underneath your waist, hooking you to him, asking in the breathiest of whimpers, “Please let me, angel.”

He’s getting a fistful of your hair into one of his big hands, adoring the way that you squeak a yelp. You suck on his tongue, hard, and it’s enough to drive him mad. He pins himself against you, grinding. But you sit up, keeping your bodies glued together and now using your teeth to tug on his lip and paralyze him in pure ecstasy. You take the opportunity to slide your teeth and tongue down his jaw and neck, trailing pecks and kisses along the way, and the throaty whimper he lets out makes you see stars behind your hooded eyes as you drag your tongue down his chest. The wet stripe you’re leaving glides down to his toned abdomen’s bunny trail, and as you curl your fingers around his sweatpants, you pause… letting your lips press the most fluttery of kisses to each of his scars.

Steve can’t help the shudders, sighs and whimpers that escape his lips, along with your name. It’s raw, uncensored. He clutches your hand, which you extend up to him in a greedy grab as you slowly work his pants down with your other hand. You hook your fingers onto his chin, forcing him to let go of your hand in his and look down at you. He does, and it’s game over. You watch him and never break eye contact as you use both hands to push down his briefs…

…and thank God for that — because otherwise, you would see just what you’re up against as far as pleasuring him goes.

You feel the tip of his hard length tap your chin, and you scoot farther down into the mattress — on your knees like a perfect angel. Your tongue plays with its head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum, and Steve is shaking so hard he can’t stand it. He clenches his jaw, gritting out blissful curses through his teeth. “Fuck, baby, fuck.”

You take in the intense length of him, pleasuring him until he is touching the back of your throat and nearly gagging you senseless, and the mess he is up above you — it sends your mind into a tailspin. He has never looked so pretty, eyes squeezed shut except when he’s glancing back down at you with more fondness and adoration than you ever thought possible from not only a man who hates you…but any man at all.

And when Steve is just about to cum, he begins to beg. “P-please. Wait, please.”

His hands urgently cup your jaw, forcing you to look back up at him and cease your sickeningly perfect work. He pulls, and you follow. He drinks you in with his gaze, staring into your soul, as if he’s trying to figure you out. He stares and stares, his thumbs stroking your cheeks, his brown eyes searching yours like you are the most beautiful mystery he has ever needed to solve. He looks as though he might ask you something. Say something...

But he dives in to kiss you again before he lets himself.

His hand wraps around the bend of one of your knees, tugging it up so that he can hook your leg around his waist. Then he does it to the other. And before you know it, you’re straddling him.

“Fuck, Bauman, please,” Steve Harrington groans into your mouth. Then softer, murmuring against your lips as he kisses them endlessly, “please let me, please.”

And you know what he is asking. You know what he wants. You don’t have to even think twice. Lifting yourself up, lining him with your entrance, he stretches you out and the euphoric sting of it sucks the air right out of you. And Steve.

Steve is winded by the feeling of how tight your walls are, and by just how right it feels to be inside of you. You both fit. Like a perfect match.

At this point, you’re both a frenzy of fucking. You ride him – slow, hard, fast, all of it. Steve keens into your mouth, then your neck as he buries his face there — completely overwhelmed. You hold his head there, comfortingly and securely, and so fucking perfectly as your fingers tug at the ends of his perfect hair.

“I’ve got you, baby,” your voice shakes in a breathy whisper, just for him. “Let it all go.”

And Steve does. His fingers dig into the curve of your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as he presses the loud growl of his climax into your bare shoulder. He releases himself into you, hot and loaded, and you drip just as much onto him as he just shot into you.

As if that wasn’t enough to send you reeling — enough to make you see angels and devils and god — it’s the way that Steve shudders against you, catching his breath…and then pulls back to look at you…that renders you speechless.

His hairline leaks sweat, his face beaded with it. His eyelids are hooded, the dark brown irises dazed and daring to meet your gaze. His lips are parted perfectly — and the way he looks up at you with his tousled hair, somehow still perfect after it’s been pulled and messed with, is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Steve Harrington is so fucking beautiful. He’s an all-American boy, yet a Greek god.

The way that Steve gently brings your forehead to his, breathing against you, closing his eyes at the contact — you find yourself timidly nuzzling the tip of your nose to his. And you feel him smile against you, opening your eyes just enough to steal a peek — and that’s when you feel a deep ache in your heart and soul that might as well kill you.

Because now you realize. That is love.

Steve is love.

But you let it die inside of you tonight, not wanting to make this moment end any sooner than it has to. Instead, you let Steve entangle his limbs with yours, not daring to ask if he wants to stay. Because if you do, he’ll likely leave. He’ll realize that being in bed with you is the last place that he wants to be, and that he’s made a mistake. He’ll go back to hating you, more than he already does, and it will be the death of you. So instead, you just let it ride out however it’s supposed to.

You try not to count the minutes as Steve absentmindedly traces circles with his fingertips on your skin. Your hip bones, your shoulder blades, your spine. You tell yourself to forget that time and its limits exist as you stroke the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, your temple against his forearm, his outer arm draped over you. You tell yourself that this is it. This is heaven. This is eternity. You tell yourself even if you wake up and it’s just a dream, you’ll remember it for as long as you live. Because on the other side of death is this, and it will never end.

You let that ease your mind as he presses his lips to your forehead and you no longer fight sleep.

So when you do wake up…and find that Steve is still there…you’re shocked. But you stay that way until he wakes. He looks at you in awestruck wonder. Not confusion or regret. Just…wonder.

He props himself up on an elbow, still looking at you, deep in thought. All you can do is stare back, wishing you knew what the hell he was thinking but not daring to ask. It wasn’t worth risking this. You stay that way for a little while.

He finally breathes a sigh, whispering, “Kids will be up soon.”

You give him a soft smile and gentle nod. You can already see Dustin waking up to go knock down Steve’s door, and that’s…not gonna end well if he finds out that Steve is walking out of your room instead.

Steve contemplates god-knows-what for another long moment before pressing a quick kiss into your hairline as he rises.

You watch him stand and dress himself, your heart throbbing at the way he looks in the early morning light streaming through the windows. His body is god-like. Tall, lean and athletic. His skin has the most beautiful constellation of moles that put the entire galaxy of stars to shame. And you ache at the thought of never being able to touch them again.

He gives you a soft grin after he throws his t-shirt back on, and before you know it he’s gone.

You lay there staring at nothing, feeling yourself leak a couple of silent tears and wondering why. You find yourself afraid to get up and face whatever new reality lies ahead of you on the other side of that door.

***

thanks for reading :) comment to be added to my tag list for this series.

tags: @erastourvip @xprloki @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington stranger things #dustin henderson #murray bauman #enemies to lovers trope #they're in love your honor #Murray is a schemer #sorry stancy

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atticsandwich · 4 months

Note

Hey I like the idea of your fic where mephisto made a pact with mc before mc got yeeted to the past in NB. I know it was a while back but did you make a continuation for that? If not would you consider doing one? I really want to know what happens when mc gets back to og timeline and reunites with meph

hey!! sorry it took me this long to respond, i only recently got around to getting an idea for a continuation. i initially wanted to leave it open ended but i kinda wanted to indulge myself a bit haha :>

—

time, curious time

mephistopheles / gn!mc

a sequel to this fic, in which you come back

(to preface: ignore the hard mode reunion for this one 💀 i still choose to think that "reunion" is a red herring set up by nightbringer bc it does not align at all to how they set up mc's dissappearance in the first place. but more on that theory some other time or maybe im just being delusional idk)

—

It was a day like any other.

R.A.D was bustling with students rushing to go home or hang out after a long day of class, echoes of afterschool plans reverberating through its halls. On one hand, everything seemed as it was— nothing was amiss; there were no violent bouts or random screams of terror, no demon stampedes or curses being thrown at each other.

But, it was still different.

At least, that's how it was for Mephistopheles, who, as usual, was holed up in his office at the newspaper club room. Ever since your disappearance, he's been spotted less and less, only ever coming out when summoned by Diavolo or if he deemed it necessary to go home— he still has a brother awaiting his return to tend to, of course. He never really got used to how quiet the office became, especially during the times he'd typically expect you to barge in like you owned the place. He also never got used to his phone being so... stagnant, missing your daily texts and calls whenever you couldn't visit him. Your name is still pinned at the top of his D-Com list, just in case, he says to himself everyday.

Just in case they come back.

It's been a year since then, yet the memory of the first night of your disappearance is still vivid in his mind. He remembered exhausting all his resources and connections, from the grandest duke to the tiniest noble— he didn't care about the judgemental gruffs and stares he'd get when he asked them if they had any info about a particular human sorcerer, which, considering demon nobility, there was a lot of, to the point where he almost started accussing any noble who responded to him with even the slightest off-tone. Diavolo had to intervene at some point, as the usual snarky, egotistical demon completely stopped sleeping then. His worried brother's face was one he would forever remember, and he made a mental note to never let him see his big, dependable brother in that state ever again.

Things have calmed down now, he supposes, but they never slowed down searching— he never did. Sure, they eventually pieced together that you were sent back somewhere in time and that Solomon was tasked to bring you back, much to his dismay, but there was still a culrpit on the loose, someone bold enough to snatch up a human under the protection of the Demon Prince hinself. Whoever that was— demon, human, whatever— no matter their reason or agenda, still had to answer.

The echoes of the crowd of students outside started getting softer, and Mephisto deems it might be nigh time for a little break. Just in time too, as he starts feeling his eyelids drop and mind fog, a stale cup of tea now cold on the side of his desk. Before drifting to sleep, the last of its scents wafts over to him, reminding him that he did your favorite blend today.

—

This must be a dream, he thinks.

When he opens his eyes he's met with the darkness of his office, the halls outside now dead quiet. Someone must have turned off the lights, as he slowly sits up from his position on the sofa.

Wait, when did he get here?

He surmises it must have been the club president or Diavolo, as they often come to his office to check in on him from time to time. Still, there's a weird feeling bubbling in his stomach, something that he hadn't felt in a while.

Why was his hand so warm?

It's then that he finally notices it— the soft, steady breathing of someone laid next to him. He stops himself from jumping in alarm, and just before his mouth opens in condemnation that some random demon went and slept with him while he was taking a nap—

"Mephisto? Are you awake now?"

A voice lulls him back to his senses.

He knows that voice. He knows it all too well.

He notices the hand clutching his; tightly, like they weren't going to let go anytime soon. He feels the lone pact on his wrist suddenly burst to life, like it never faded in the first place, and he finally realizes what was happening.

If this is a dream, please don't let it end, he pleads.

The figure sits up, still not letting go of his hand. He feels another hand carress his face in a warmth that he never thought he would feel again, before he finally locks eyes with the figure.

"It's not a dream. I'm home."

"You..." the words get caught in his throat, unable to say anything. He resorts to taking his free hand, the one shaking uncontrollably, as he returns the gesture of carressing your face. You lean into his touch, chasing the warmth it radiates.

He doesn't notice his tears starting to flow, nor does he notice you lean towards him in time to react as you kiss away the salted dew from his eyes. In true Mephisto fashion, he retaliates, like he always does, smashing his lips all over your face until it reaches yours, and you laugh as you finally feel his smile while taking in his fervent attempt of making up for lost time— hands still bound together, bodies falling back to the comfort of the couch, your name spilling out of his mouth everytime he catches his breath. In his arms, here,

you're home.

—

tags: @insomniachox @whatever-fanfics

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me mephistopheles #obey me mephisto #obey me x reader #obey me fanfic #mephistopheles x reader #om mephistopheles #atticsandwich asks

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softdoctorreid · 2 years

Text

shaping up | reid x reader

summary: overhearing someone describe him as having a ‘dad bod’ has spencer feeling self-conscious. you decide to surprise him with some news about just how fitting the term is.

• fem!reader

+++ +++ +++

It had been a long case. While it wasn’t too far from home and everybody lived this time, Spencer was exhausted and tired of motel life. All he wanted was to get back to you and return to the domestic bliss of your life together. It was almost harder when the Bureau sent them somewhere that was just far away enough to warrant not traveling back each night - knowing that you were just within driving distance but he couldn’t see you. So when the case closed and the only thing standing between him and an overdue reunion with his wife was wrapping up at the local police station, he was happy to take on any task to get on the road as soon as possible.

While he raced through the station turning in paperwork and signing off on documents, he overheard JJ trying to placate some of the reporters gathered in the lobby. Though she was a profiler now, she still knew the magic words for getting the media to disappear. There were two younger reporters, giggling and glancing back at the table where the team was dismantling the bulletin board.

“Sorry, I just can’t keep all the names straight. Who was the agent at the arrest again? The one with the dad bod?” one of them asked.

“Do you mean Simmons?” JJ asked, turning to point.

The reporter shook her head. “No, he’s totally jacked - I mean the one with the sweater and curly hair?”

“Ohh. I see, that would be Dr. Reid.” This time JJ pointed at him, and the reporters murmured in agreement. He puzzled over it the whole ride back to Quantico. How could they mean him? Simmons was the only member of the team who was a father. But the reporters had seemed so certain. It didn’t make any sense. Determined to solve the mystery, he made a point to walk out with JJ.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” he explained. “But I overheard you talking with the reporters earlier. Can I ask you – what did they mean when they said I had a… dad bod?”

Jennifer smiled sympathetically at him, the look she often had when he asked something he knew must be obvious to everyone else. “Just a way people are describing a certain body type. It’s based on the way guys with kids tend to stop working out and get a little soft. But don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing,” she added, patting his arm. “According to the internet, dad bods are all the rage right now.”

To Spencer, it sure felt like a bad thing. After all, he wasn’t a dad. What excuse did he have to fall out of shape? Not that he’d ever particularly been in shape, the only physical activity he didn’t completely abhor was the kind that involved you, a private place, and ample foreplay. And he knew he’d gotten a little softer in recent months, but it felt weird to have it pointed out, especially by two strangers.

Simmons was a father, but he looked like he could do one-handed push-ups with every one of his kids on his back. Morgan didn’t lose his trademark abs after Hank’s birth. And then there was him, childless and yet the first one to be pointed out as “soft” without having any reason to be. The thought followed him like a cloud, and by the time he got home his mood was completely dampened.

You noticed the second he walked in the door. “I thought you told me everyone lived this time,” you said.

He tilted his head, confused. “Yeah. They did.”

“Then what’s got you looking so grumpy?” you asked, tracing the tip of your finger over the distinct frown he wore.

He started to dissent but you cut him off with a pointed look that told him it was a lost cause to lie. Clearly years of being around profilers was rubbing off on you. “It was just something this reporter said.”

You pulled him down to sit on the couch. “About the case?”

“No, about… about me. About how I have a dad bod.” He hated how silly it sounded to say out loud.

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you caught yourself, trying to fight a smile. “And here I thought you didn’t know pop culture.”

Embarrassed, he busied himself with taking off his tie. “I don’t. I mean, I didn’t know that. But JJ explained it to me. It just made me feel weird, being described that way. I know I’m not exactly in shape, but I guess I didn’t expect other people to notice.” Spencer hadn’t counted on anyone else paying attention to the fit of his trousers or the way his sweaters clung to his body now that he’d filled out. Or at least he’d hoped his self-consciousness was unfounded, that his awareness of the ways his body had changed since Millburn didn’t extend to those around him. But if that wasn’t the case, maybe he needed to cut back on morning donut runs, or eliminate the sugar from his coffee. Anything to avoid being labeled the way he had been.

You set a hand on his thigh, unfazed by his self-deprication. “Well, from what I hear, a dad bod is pretty hot,” you purred.

Spencer pulled away from your touch, crossing his arms over his middle. “Is it?” he asked, not intending the edge that crept into his voice. “Because to me, it just sounds like a nicer way to say I’ve let myself go! I mean, what does that say about me when I don’t even have the excuse of being busy taking care of a kid or being a dad?”

He expected you to have some carefully crafted response at the ready, or at least some sweet nothings of validation, but you just shook your head, smiling. “Oh, babe. You’re that upset about this?”

Clearly he was. How had you gone from reading his expression so easily to acting surprised by what he told you? Annoyed by your lack of understanding, he just huffed a sigh. To his surprise, you stood up from the couch and walked to the kitchen. “Wait, where are you going?” he asked.

“To try and turn that frown upside down.” You returned with a brown paper bag in hand, setting it on the coffee table before sitting down next to him. “I know you’re not feeling great about it right now, but that dad bod of yours is going to be pretty useful.”

This vague hedging wasn’t your usual reaction to his discomfort, and he didn’t understand why you were so upbeat about this. “How, exactly?”

Your eyes softened, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards as you fought back a grin. “Spence,” you said, as though it was so obvious. “How do you think? When you’re a dad.” He bit his lip, puzzling over your words. They just didn’t make sense - he wasn’t a dad, that was the point. But you just raised your eyebrows, nodding slowly, waiting for it to sink in. “Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”

What you were trying to… wait. Spencer froze, not even daring to blink. “You don’t mean–?”

“Yeah,” you said, the grin shining through in full. “Yeah, I do. Look in the bag.”

His gaze fell on the paper bag beside you, and he couldn’t even breathe for a moment, hands shaking as he grabbed it. It was like the whole world went quiet as he reached inside and withdrew a copy of Goodnight Moon. The book opened easily, and there tucked amidst the pages was a pregnancy test. With two lines. Pregnant.

When he looked back at you, he couldn’t even manage to form words. “I was going to surprise you with it tomorrow,” you told him. “But I felt like you needed something good right about now. So, see? You were just shaping up for your new role. You’ve always been ahead of the curve,” you laughed.

When he tried to laugh with you, it came out as a half-sob, tears springing to his eyes. “I’m going to be a dad?” he asked.

“You are.” Now you were starting to cry, too. “You’re gonna be the best dad.”

“Oh my god,” he said, pulling you into his arms in the tightest of hugs as the happiness overtook him completely. “We’re going to have a baby! Thank you. Thank you.” Becoming a father had long been a dream of his, one he so badly wanted to realize with you. And now that dream was finally coming true, the love of his life carrying his child, turning the Reid household into a family of three.

“Do you feel better now?” you asked him, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

He just nodded, answering in the form of a kiss. “Much, much better,” he said, when he finally pulled away. “Nothing else matters. I’m so happy, Y/N. This is the best news ever. I love you, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you giggled. “You’re gonna be putting that body to good use, you know. I’ll want to cuddle with you all the time. And they say skin-to-skin contact is important for newborns.”

“It is. Kangaroo care, as some specialists call it, is shown to help infants regulate their heartbeat, breathing and body temperature, as well as facilitating parent-child bonding and reducing crying.”

“See? You’re already an expert.” You inched closer to him on the couch, resting one hand on his waist, your thumb stroking over his tummy. “And I meant it when I said dad bods are hot. I mean, right now, Spence? I look at you and all I see is a DILF. You know what that one means, right?”

Spencer’s breath caught. “Yes,” he said carefully. “Yes, I do.”

“And?”

“And,” he said, caressing your cheek, his eyes roaming over your body. “I could never say no to that.”

+++

tell me what you think here!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #dad bod spence #we were really robbed of dad!spencer

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burntb4bydoll · 1 year

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Reunion segz with Bill maybe? Getting back together with him after a bad fight or maybe you’re his ex from his early tokio hotel days/you’re an ex member of the band 🤭🤭

I got another request very similar to this that i haven’t done yet so here you go lol!!

Bill Kaulitz x Reader

Summery: you see Bill at a party after not seeing him since you broke up

Warnings: unprotected sex, maybe a little bit of scratching, sappy reunion ngl, Bill being protective of you🤭 idfk you guy just have cute fluffy sex??

You walk into your friends house and are immediately hit with the scent of alcohol and weed. The house was dimly lit so you couldn’t really recognize anyone in the room. Sighing, you walk towards the kitchen. You weren’t necessarily in the partying mood, you really only came because your friend begged you to. Which you thought was kinda strange because usually they arent so insistent on making you come to things like this. And of course the person who invited you was no where to be found.

You took a step outside by the pool and thats when you saw him. Bill fucking Kaulitz, your ex boyfriend, standing by your friend and a couple random people. Now it makes sense why your friend wanted you to come so bad. You had just recently told them how you missed him. Bill looked away from whoever he was talking to and locked eyes with you. His eyes widened as he watched you from across the patio. God, you could just die right now. The way he’s looking st you like your the most beautiful being on the planet makes your heart beat faster.

“Hey y/n! Come over here!” Your friend called out. You felt your heart drop when you realized there was no hiding from him. He stared at you the whole time you were walking over. “Y/nnn im so glad you’re here, look did you see Bil-“ you cut them off by pulling them away from the scene.

“What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me he would be here?!” You whisper-yelled at your clearly drunk friend. They just laughed and handed you their drink.

“Y/n its fineee just have a drink and calm down!”

“Fine? F/n. I look like shit, and I am not anywhere near ready to see him without rethinking our whole break up-“

Someone slammed there body into yours, causing you to stumble into a nearby table. The person was clearly pissed off and drunk. They took a step towards you and you backed up.

“Watch it dumbass! Get the fuck out of the way next time!” Before you could say anything you saw someone come up behind the angry man and yank him away from you. No fucking way. It was Bill. You’re stomach erupted with butterflies when you saw how protective he still was over you.

“Don’t talk to her like that! You’re the one who can’t handle your fucking alcohol.” Your jaw dropped at his tone towards the other man. You hadn’t even talked to him since you guys broke up, and he still cares about you? You grabbed Bills arm and tugged on it a bit, trying to get his attention.

“Its ok, he’s just drunk he’s probably not even gonna remember this. Just calm down.” He let go of the guys shirt and gave him a shove in thr opposite direction. “Thank you. I would have been alright though Bill.” He clicks his tongue and looks down at you.

“Yeah well, I’m not gonna let anyone treat you like that. You don’t deserve it.” His voice comes out softer than you expected. You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet man in front of you. “Do you wanna go somewhere else and talk..?” He asked, shifting nervously.

“Um, yeah..yeah sure.” You tried to hide the shake in your voice as you followed him out of the backyard and up the stairs of your friends house. Once you reach your friends guest room, both of you step closer to each other. You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth

“Bill, I miss you..”

“Shit.. I miss you too.”

Neither of you moved. You just stood there, inches away from each other. Your eyes move from his to look at his lips until he grabbed your face and kissed you. You close your eyes and hum at the familiar feeling of his lips on yours. He pushes your body against the door, successfully keeping you in place.

“Missed you so bad Bill. Feels so lonely without you.” You mumbled against his lips. Bill softly moans at your words.

“I never stopped loving you honey. ‘Could never love someone else the way I love you. Your my soulmate.” You could hear the genuineness of his words. You whimper quietly, trying to hold back tears. “Hey, hey no. Don’t cry sweetheart, I’m here now. I can’t let you go again.” You pull him back down to kiss you again, running your hands through his soft hair. He spread your legs with his knee and lifts it up to rest against your clothed heat. (I actually hate that im sorry) You let out a shocked gasp and put your arms around his neck to support yourself.

“Bill please, ‘want you so bad. I need you.” You use the most sweet tone, hoping to convince him to not tease you. He smiles widely and laughs a little.

“Ok, ok hun, are you sure? I don’t want this to be something you regret.” His giggly tone faded into a concerned one. You lean up to kiss the corner of his lips,

“Of course I’m sure Bill. Fuck, I mean I’ve thought about this every day since we broke up.” His smile returned and he kisses your forehead.

“Lets get these and pants off of you you, yeah?” You giggled and nodded watching him pull down your pants and underwear. He slipped his hand between your legs and groaned. “Shit, you really did miss me.” He teases, knowing damn well he’s just as needy for you. He pulls his hand away from you and pulled his own pants off. He goes to take off your shirt but you stop him,

“No, no just fuck me please. I need to feel you now.” You whine to him, practically begging.

“Alright sweetie calm down, I got you.” He picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips. He lined his tip up with your entrance and leaves little kisses on your face as he pushes into you. You groan and dig your nails into his shoulder. He doesn’t even let you catch your breath before thrusting his hips into yours.

“God you feel so good! Needed your dick inside me so bad!” You moan, not even caring about how desperate you sound.

“I know, I missed this fucking pussy. So perfect for me, so so perfect.” Both of you were basically high off of each other’s presence, having been so close for so long then not seeing each other for months. He speeds up his thrusts and grips your hips tightly. You feel euphoric, running your hands all over his body, trying to feel every part of him.

“B-bill I’m gonna~ shit I’m so close please don’t stop!” You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shhh. Its ok honey, cum for me, please. Please cum.” Both of you were begging for each other, but neither of you felt any shame. You both knew you were meant for each other. You arch your back and let your orgasm rush through you. Bill whimpers at the feeling and his hips stutter. He finishes inside you and you are both left panting and groaning.

“Would you please take me back y/n?”

#bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel fanfic #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz x reader #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader

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hippolotamus · 3 months

Text

Sunday Sentences 🧜‍♂️

Using this (way more than) Seven Sentence Sunday to answer some Mer!Buck asks for anon, @spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @daffi-990 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming 🧜‍♂️

Follows this snippet

By the time he’s finished his food and paid his bill there’s still plenty of daylight remaining. Plenty of time to find Evan and hopefully enjoy a brief reunion before Eddie has to go. Memories, and the ever present invisible tug, guide him back to the neighborhood near the beach house. Tourist season is over, leaving the streets mostly empty except for a few permanent residents, and homeowners winterizing their properties until the area comes back to life for rentals.

He parks in an hourly lot close to the pier, finally bracing himself for the task of calling Shannon. He could put it off even longer until he’s settled at the end of the pier, waiting for Evan. It feels wrong to mix the two worlds together, though. They’re already dangerously close.

It’s not that he doesn’t want Shannon to know, he plans on telling her, always has, but the timing is never quite right. Between getting to know each other and skipping to the babies and marriage phase, bringing up a childhood friend — who just happens to be a merperson — hasn’t managed to come up. He doesn’t think now is that time either.

With a heavy sigh Eddie dials the number and prepares to lie to his wife. Well, not lie exactly, but it won’t be the whole truth. And he’s going to tell her, so it’s fine. That’s what he keeps telling himself anyway.

“Eddie?! Where the hell are you?”

And, yeah, he deserves that greeting. “I’m, um, I’m in LA actually. Needed to take care of something before Monday.”

There’s a heavy silence before Shannon responds.

“Days before you leave, you suddenly have to take care of ‘something’,” she deadpans. “Care to elaborate?”

The only way out is through at this point, so he pushes on with the closest version of the truth he can give. “I have a friend out here, Evan, and, I don’t know how exactly to explain it, Shan. I’ve known him since we were kids and it’s been a while and I just got this weird feeling that I needed to see him. Listen, I know how weird this probably sounds, but I promise I’ll be back in the morning, and make it up to you and-”

“Eddie.” Shannon interrupts, softer this time. “It’s okay. This can’t- I’m sure it’s not easy for you. I know it’s not for me, and I’m not the one going anywhere.”

“You’re not mad?” He asks lamely.

“No, I’m not mad.” His relief is short-lived. “I’m pissed and we are having a big talk about this when you get back. But at least now I know where you are and that you’re coming home.”

“Baby, I was always-”

“Drive safe. Okay, Eddie?”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. “Yeah, okay. I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @bi-buckrights @wikiangela @loveyouanyway @actuallyitsellie

@diazsdimples thank you loves 💞

np tagging (plus Daffi, Spots and Mic!) @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys

@elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart

@ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything

@the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life

@epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @tizniz @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck

@saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow @taketheplanspinitsideways

@dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings

@inell and anyone else who wants to 😘

#i could have had Shannon be bitchy but i felt like they needed some understanding #next comes Eddie’s last visit with Evan before the army #i’m preparing to cry a lot tbh #hippo writes #fic: run to the water (and find me there)#buddie wip #merperson!buck #human!eddie #seven sentence sunday #sunday sentences #make me write

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semisolidmind · 1 year

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What if after Peaches has her 8 kids she gets killed by the celestial realm or something, and there's nothing the Sun family can do but wait for their mother/wife to be reincarnated, which leads to the whole 'Monkey King meeting his Peaches again after hundreds of years due to MK' situation? How would that situation change with the babies being around, desperate to see their mama?

Sorry for the multiple asks! Feel free to ignore them if it's too much or uninteresting.

oh man. that'd be an awkward family reunion, considering she won't remember any of them.

also the destruction wukong would cause to the celestial realm after they murk his wife? astronomical. and his first three kids are old enough by then to join in, and they do so eagerly.

so to start, the sun kids are all basically grown by the time wukong finds mk, with seventh and eighth being around ten years old in demon age. the siblings more or less welcome the new addition with open arms, though some more than others.

mk grows up surrounded by siblings, and oddly enough, is better adjusted socially because of it? while the influence of some of them may be questionable (cough second third fifth cough), for the most part his family is his safe place. he'd probably be a smidgen less dependent on his friends because of it. he's also less defensive and scared than the version of him without siblings.

however, the subject of their mama is one that mk is woefully left out of. he never got to meet the original reader, and his siblings (except hua and chāo, who were a bit too small to remember her clearly) don't talk about her much. mk has gotten jūn and zíhào to talk about her a little bit, but da xia just gets defensive and refuses to entertain the subject. xīnyi also deflects whenever reader comes up. the only ones willing to give mk any sort of backstory are jiāo hui and xuě fēng. those two, along with hua and chāo, are his closest friends.

in the case of mk going to the human world, i imagine wukong being slightly less reluctant to let mk go, if only because he knows that jūn, jiao hui, and xuě fēng hang around the city as well, so mk would have support. wukong would still make mandatory home visits though, since he knows his kids might not be telling him the whole truth when they report on their baby brother.

as for the event of meeting reader; wukong almost cries, seeing her again. his first interaction with her new incarnation is...softer, more subdued. reader feels a little bad for him. he seems so withdrawn, he must miss his son. she's less suspicious of him because of his attitude.

wukong doesn't know what to tell his children. their mother is reborn, but she isn't their mother anymore. she won't know any of them. he doesn't want to put them through the pain of seeing her if she can't greet each of them knowing who they are.

however.

there might be a way to reawaken his wife and mother of his children. she still exists in the soul inhabiting this new body, he just needs to bring her back to the forefront of their consciousness. he'll tear apart heaven and earth looking for a way.

cue angst and fear, and a fun time for mk trying to keep reader a secret from his more volatile siblings. zíhào, da xia, and xīnyi would likely just kidnap reader for their father if they knew, thinking, similarly to him, that they can bring back the spirit of their mother.

also, macaque has been freed by now (it may or may not have been jūn and xuě fēng who removed the seal on his mountain), and is close friends with reader. in this case, jūn warns macaque of his father's plan to try and bring back the previous reader, so he has more time to plan on how he's gonna save her.

macaque has missed the smile on reader's face, her jokes, her sass...she's much like she was when they were on the journey together. he doesn't want her new, free incarnation to have to live as a prisoner to the monkey king's sick idea of love.

he failed her all those centuries ago. he won't fail her again.

....

(also, the reason none of the other kids can weild a magic staff, but mk can; half humanity. at least that's what wukong figures it is. his kids are all almost as strong as him, so that can't be why they can't lift it. must be magical bullshit, he thinks.)

#the royal sun children #bad end mk #this got long #i had a lot of thoughts for this one #bad end wukong

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mdhwrites · 8 months

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Did TOH Need More Time For Its Ambitions?

No. Because Amphibia exists. Why can I say that so confidently? Because Sasha and Amity show a VERY clear comparison in how the storytelling in each show is handled and how that shows that even with a similar amount of appearances, TOH is just lacking in actually doing anything with its concepts.

(Quick interjection: Consider this effectively a part 2/rehash on why Anne's arc in S1 is so much better than Amity's arc period, which is a blog I did a LONG time ago that analyzed critical portions of character arcs in general. This one though uses the more obvious pairing and also the two with much closer screen time and narrative importance... though with TOH that term is entirely fucked.)

Both characters are enemies to allies. Both have complicated relationships with the main character and are motivated by that relationship to change themselves for the better. Both have positions in the world and priorities that explicitly makes them opposed to the main character not only ideologically but sociologically. And, above all else:

Sasha's redemption arc, from her first appearance to Turning Point when she explicitly turns full good, is 9 segments. Ten/Eleven if you count Reunion/True Colors as two.

Amity's redemption can range anywhere from seven A plots to nine/ten depending on if A: you count Hooty's Moving Hassle, which I don't, and B: if you count the end of her redemption arc at Winging it Like Witches (when she rebukes her old friends), Escaping Expulsion (when she rebukes her parents) or Looking Glass Ruins, the first episode where she is 100% an ally. Or hell, you could actually for FIVE episodes and say it's Understanding Willow as she apologizes for the past and promises to stop bullying at least Willow at that point, which was her first antagonistic act before.

And mind you... Understanding Willow is in S1. LONG before the shortening took effect. Even the latest one of these puts it at before the shortening. So I think these are fair comparisons of just how the two's arcs were handled with the amount of time spent on them. Which raises the question: What did we get in that time?

Well... We got an actual arc with Sasha while Amity just changes randomly. That's not even really a joke. I'll try to bounce between the two to really highlight the difference, especially in storytelling.

In her first appearance, we get pretty much all possible suspicions about Sasha based on Anne confirmed. She is manipulative, self serving, self aggrandizing and tells people what they want to hear to get them to do what she wants. She is your friend so she can control you. However, she isn't all bad. She could have just ran during the Heron attack but instead helps save the day though it's very possible that she recognized she was better off staying as an equal of Grime's than running off on her own. The Toads are opposed to the Frogs in Amphibia's society though, creating an inherent conflict between Sasha and Anne due to the social dynamics of the world they are in.

Meanwhile, Amity in her first appearance actually makes a strong case for herself. She looks down on those magically challenged, which Luz is, is a bully while Luz is an outcast who has struggled with friends and has a drive to succeed conventionally while Luz uses more unconventional methods. The opposing elements are actually lined up really well between the two but we don't get a lot of Amity's actual personality. She just comes off as an entertaining, almost neurotic bitch. We get more of her personality in her second episode where she is a little more in control of her emotions, shows a potential softer side, and also sets up another sociological conflict in that Luz inherently is on the side of the wild witches due to her mentor and her magic style while Amity is full on the coven train, even to the point to wanting to one day potentially lead the Emperor's Coven. Though, importantly... The only thing that's challenged about Amity's worldview in this episode is the idea that someone she thinks is weak could actually be strong, something that theoretically could have been said to have been covered by the end of Teenage Abomination when Willow proves herself with the seed. Hell, it's also reinforced in an episode I don't usually count for this but is kind of important: Hooty's Moving Hassle. So that's one problem addressed but only tangentially and it's by no means the biggest issue between Amity and Luz. Amity is still a bully after all.

Meanwhile, Reunion goes for the core, both sociologically and personally. The Toads want Hop Pop dead and Sasha doesn't care. Not only that but Sasha assumes that if she tells Anne not to care, Anne won't because in her eyes, Anne serves her. She is the one in charge after all and she won't take no for an answer. Period. We're even shown this explicitly in the flashbacks. The problem is... Anne has gone through an entire character arc to make it so she can stand up to Sasha and challenges pretty much all of Sasha's beliefs. Her need for control, her callousness towards others and her warped view of reality where she is the hero and all else are best off listening to her. Sasha even gives in for a moment in an act of genuine selflessness by letting go of Anne's hand so her and the Plantars can live. It does a lot of work but... It might be considered rushed if that were the end of her primary antagonism.

You know where this is going. In her third major appearance, forth appearance overall... Amity is a neutral entity and a friend by the end of Lost in Language. Honestly, if you wanted to argue that the majority of Amity's arc, especially friends to allies, was three episodes, you'd be actually making a very compelling point. This episode after all is the one where she effectively stops being a bully. She just is now the overly dedicated smart girl. She is explicitly not the antagonist though but instead the victim and the one we're primarily supposed to sympathize with. Then, thanks to Azura, she befriends Luz by the end of the episode. They are already allies and... There isn't much reason for it besides one time teaming up. Sure, Luz has challenged Amity's perceptions but even she calls out in this episode that each time they meet up, Amity gets in trouble or/amd embarrassed. Luz has actually done extremely little to deserve this because all Luz has actually done with Amity before this episode is a declaration of combat and then their last talk in Covention which was just about maybe rethinking if someone could or couldn't do something, not about Amity's morality. Also, Luz is important to consider here. These sorts of arcs involve the MC in a pretty crucial way because they're the one the antagonist wants to become allies with and so the MC needs to accept them. Amity hasn't done fuck all at this point to deserve Luz's attention because she's a bully and is cruel to her mostly besides her final act in Covention. It is literally NARRATIVE TROPES that make Luz forgive Amity and want to befriend. Literally. Nothing about Amity's actions or actual character, Luz just wants to live out her fanfic.

And that brings up the fact that Anne does keep giving Sasha chances but they have an established history and that push and pull of trust is a large part of this. It's the main driving factor for why Sasha will change at all and why the lengths she goes both for manipulation and redemption are important. It's also important to show WHY Anne might have wanted someone like Sasha around. Toad Catcher is not crucial for Sasha's arc, Barrel's Warhammer also shows how much Anne's rebuke of her and choosing the Plantars over her fucks with her mentally, but it does let you see why people follow her. The motivation she can bring them because Sasha does see the best in people... But mostly because people's bests are also the most useful for her. It also doubles down on her good quality that she rarely gives up on someone she chooses to ally with. All while still making it clear that if given the chance, she'll try to get back at Anne because accepting Anne was right is too antithetical to how she sees the world.

And then for both, we get episodes that mostly just explore the characters. A sort of holding pattern for both arcs with Barrel's Warhammer, Third Temple, The Sleepover and The Battle of the Bands for Sasha while we have Adventure in the Elements, Understanding Willow and Grom for Amity. This is also where you can extend this to include Winging it Like Witches and/or Escaping Expulsion depending on where you count Amity's arc as fully ending. For both characters though, the status quote they're primarily in doesn't change a lot. Amity is a tentative ally who has to get dragged into things and is generally a good person but not hanging out with everyone else casually yet. Meanwhile, Sasha is barely controlling her growing rage and insecurity about losing her power over Anne, exacerbated by Marcy coming into the mix and, from Sasha's perspective, siding with Anne. Though, there is a critical difference.

One is actually exploring the character, their motivations and their mindset. In all the episodes I listed for Amity, Amity gets small steps but they're NOTHING we don't already know. She's a generally good person who has a compulsion to succeed until suddenly in Escaping Expulsion that she's let her grades slip. There's nothing about what drives her towards success, no exploration on if these changes are difficult on her, both of which are actually in Battle of the Bands to some extent for Sasha. We don't see how this stuff is affecting her besides her growing crush and if that's getting her to act out. That takes until fucking Looking Glass Ruins to actually manifest while Barrel's Warhammer shows how much the idea of changing is fucking with Sasha's head but also why her behavior is toxic. How her best traits can also be her worst. Amity's traits are barely even being examined. She's just slowly becoming more and more obsessed with Luz and bleeding personality for it by becoming a very generically good person.

THEN we get Sasha's big relapse. Her denial of her arc. The attempt to wrestle back control because she saw an oppurtunity to be on top and took it. This is book 2's ending for Zuko. A moment of weakness where the character's vices means they at least have to question their character arc. If that's what they want or if they want to continue being who they always were. True Colors is this for Sasha, even to the point where she is willing to throw out parts of her past if she can't find a way to keep them. It is that same weakness that makes her plans fail though because once she can try to justify her actions and bring Anne back to her, she can't fight Anne properly and loses for a second time. Again, that push and pull of trust and control.

And Amity doesn't have this. The closest there is to it is Escaping Expulsion... Where she doesn't do shit. Calling that an Amity episode is FRUSTRATING for me because she is barely in it. Not only that, but she doesn't decide to do villainy. Instead, it's that she is a teenager with a controlling mother. But don't worry, despite only showing up for like four minutes of the episode, Amity can just tell her mom to piss off and that's that. It isn't motivated by a push or pull, Amity doesn't want to go back at all and she actively is miserable the entire episode despite having explicitly chosen to be a bully for YEARS before this. After all, her parents only told her she couldn't be friends with Willow. They never told Amity to bully her for years and become queen bitch of the school over all. That was Amity's choice.

And then finally resolution. When the character themselves accepts the change and stops shifting morality. This is actually why I consider Turning Point the end of Sasha'a arc. Commander Anne is follow through but it's just reinforcing the version of Sasha that takes form in this moment. The Sasha, who reading how much her betrayal hurt Anne but how much trust she had for the mean girl, who has to face all she's lost in her pursuit of power, takes the mantle of guardian seriously. It is not a moment of weakness like in Reunion that makes her put other lives over hers but instead a moment self actualization and determination. A moment of strength and one she'll stick to for the most part. She is no longer manipulative, she is a commander, even if she doesn't have the title yet. This is especially satisfying because... Well, we've seen EVERYTHING that motivates this moment. Not just Anne's stuff but Grime's loyalty to her and how much that means to her. Percy and Braddock abandoning her and her trying to use the calculus of war to be okay with that. We can see MOUNTAINS of evidence for why she would choose this over her old self. Over one more time to try to conquer Amphibia like Grime suggests.

I... Genuinely can't really say when this happens for Amity. This actually has way less to do with how many times she rejects her past self and more to do with... Why does she? Why does she ever change in fact? What are her motivations? Because even in Escaping Expulsion, Luz's conversation with Amity isn't "You need to stand up to your parents because you shouldn't let others dictate your life." It's instead, "You should stand up to your parents so I can go back to witch school." And this happens CONSTANTLY. Remember: You can argue her villain role ends on her third major appearance and Luz NEVER talks morality with her. Never has Amity actually learn something.

It actually comes down to an inherent storytelling choice with TOH as a whole: Very few episodes are about anyone other than Luz and Luz actually really sucks at helping people during their episodes. Gus actually has some of the best episodes dedicated to a side character as they're actually addressing a core element of the character... And in his first one, Luz is a bystander. She does fucking NOTHING except maybe give Gus a pep talk. She is mcguffin than anything. With Amity though? Covention is mostly about Luz learning about the coven system. Lost in Language is about Luz and the twins and her want to befriend Amity, not the why she wants to befriend Amity. Adventure in the Elements: About Luz having a Winter Adventure where Amity is a perfectly good person. Understanding Willow is actually one of the better ones because at least for that one, Amity makes her final choice because she's nostalgic for an old friend. Grom has her only stand up though when Luz in trouble. Winging it Like Witches? It's just Luz being in danger that motivates her. Escaping Expulsion? Luz being in danger. Looking Glass? Luz needs her.

This is why Amity feels like she changes just for a pretty girl. Luz actually does NOTHING to ever try and change Amity. To ever actually interact with Amity's arc. Reaching Out will be the pinnacle of this where Amity has suddenly written off the entire coven system, one of the only things besides Luz we've been told she cares about... And Luz has never once talked to her about the coven system or Belos. Because Luz has barely actually talked to her about her besides to call her cool and pretty. It is remarkable how little Luz actually interacts properly with Amity and how few real conversations they have, especially about their differences and feelings about each other. Each time Sasha and Anne are in the same room, you know their philosophies and relationship is going to come up in some way. It's too omnipresent for both to ignore. Meanwhile... There's a lot of episodes where Lumity exchange cute jokes and that's it, despite the main plot focusing on those two characters for that episode. And remember: TOH's A plots explicitly have more time to include those sorts of slower conversations. Oh, and, you know, one of these pairs are just friends while the other GETS INTO A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP.

And the pinnacle of all of this: Amphibia does this amazing character arc while also making it plot relevant and REALLY important to its themes. Sasha is a primary antagonist for two seasons technically. She genuinely challenges both the message of change being good from a meta perspective but also challenges Anne's own character arc from a narrative perspective. Her degradation of care is contrasted by how Amphibia makes Anne care so much about others that it makes it harder and harder for her to write off Sasha despite what Sasha did. Then, Sasha changing her perspective and treatment of others, while keeping the core of herself true, is what helps keep Wartwood alive while Anne is gone while also demonstrating the power of change but also that you don't have to change literally EVERYTHING about you.

Meanwhile, it was a fucking meme in the TOH community that if Amity was on screen, nothing could happen and that stayed almost true for literally half the series. Not only that but Amity's complete change for Luz doesn't really feel coherent with the themes of self acceptance and not changing for others. It tries because the show posits that Amity just needed a better environment to go back to being the good person she always was but A: that's never explored because challenging her environment is not actually a part of what motivates her changes, just B: Luz is the whole reason for her change and she changes effectively into Azura, Luz's favorite character. That doesn't feel like becoming her own person and instead changing literally every aspect of yourself for your partner which... Yikes. To put it mildly.

You can cut EVERYTHING to do with Amity out of the show and you lose literally nothing except representation. You cut Sasha out of Amphibia though? You do not have the same story. Period. You have to rewrite a good bit because despite her lack of appearances, she is important. A lot of elements of Amphibia are important like that.

And Amphibia did it with smart storytelling that actually explored its own elements, not because it had three full seasons. Not when Sasha takes up so much less time of her show than Amity does.

This is all because Amphibia actually was interested in telling a character arc instead of just kind of weakly being able to claim it had a character arc. You can even extend that to almost literally any element that TOH and Amphibia both did. And not because of time, simply because one is written a hell of a lot better and was more interested in actually telling its story rather than making a bunch of statements that Twitter could freak out about.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house #amphibia #sasha waybright #Sasha #amity blight #Character Arcs

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inexplicifics · 11 months

Note

💛 reunion kiss / relief

Lambert/Milena?

Lambert comes back limping, one arm thrown over Coën’s shoulders as the Griffin half-carries him through the portal. He comes back bloody and muddy and black-eyed with potions; he comes back clutching at his side with his free hand, black armor stained even darker with a Witcher’s thick blood.

But he comes back.

Milena lets Triss go to him first, green fire sparking at the healer’s fingertips. She lets Geralt and Aiden tip Lambert onto a stretcher and bear him carefully down to the recovery ward next to Triss’s workroom. She waits with her hands clasped white-knuckled in front of her until he is clean and bandaged and has given his report through little stifled gasps of pain.

And then, when Triss and Geralt and Aiden and Coën have all left - Aiden to guard the door, she knows, close enough to hear Lambert’s heartbeat through the night, and she cannot begrudge him that -

Then and only then does she cross the room to sit down on the side of the white-sheeted bed and clasp his nearer hand in both of her own, his broad knuckles and familiar calluses an aching relief against her softer palms, and raise it to her lips to press soft kisses to each finger, desperate and reverent as if she knelt in a temple to the gods.

“Milena,” Lambert says quietly, voice a low rasp of pain and weariness, and turns his hand to cup her cheek.

“Lambert,” she replies, and bends down, following the slight coaxing pressure of his hand, and kisses him heedless of the bitterness of potions on his lips, the horrid metallic taste of blood that yet lingers there.

“I came back,” he murmurs against her lips, and Milena tastes salt and realizes she is weeping, softly and helplessly. “I ain’t gonna die when I’ve got you to come back to, Milena.”

“I will hold you to that, my love,” Milena whispers, and kisses him again.

Relief tastes like salt tears, and feels like a painless wound across her heart.

Lambert comes back, and that is all Milena can ever ask.

(also here on AO3)

#questions answered #ask meme #heart asks #snippet #lambert #milena de roggeven

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tragedybunny · 1 year

Text

Reunion - Warhammer 40K - Fulgrim x Ferrus Manus - NSFW

It's been a while since Fulgrim and Ferrus have seen each other and they are all too excited to be reunited. PWP

My second Warhammer fic and my first Fulgrim / Ferrus fic. Honestly, this got way softer than I thought so I may show up with something a little kinkier. This is currently one of my favorite ships, so let me know what you think in the comments and if you'd like more.

The touch of cool iron fingertips on his skin set his nerves ablaze but the hand that wrapped around his throat made his mind stutter and he gasped involuntarily. “You’re too easy sometimes,” Ferrus’s rough voice whispered in his ear and Fulgrim refrained from any other sound. It would only cause Ferrus to continue to tease him. One strong arm wrapped around his naked waist, pinning him against Ferrus’s broad bare chest, while the hand at his throat never let go. “What, too flustered for words from that silver tongue of yours?”

Teeth nipped his ear and Fulgrim squirmed. “Ferrus,” he whined, offended at himself for how undignified it sounded. “Don’t be mean.” It had been too long since they’d seen one another and he knew that they were both hopelessly pent up. Ferrus was apparently just determined to use it to his advantage. Perhaps Fulgrim had invited it on himself by too eagerly dragging him to his private quarters once he was on board Pride of The Emperor.

“But you’re adorable when you’re like this.” The hand released his throat to trace a light touch over his body, traveling down to grip his already hardened length and stroke it once. “Needy. Though you’d look even more adorable on your knees.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.” Fulgrim managed a firm tone, even as he desperately wanted Ferrus to keep playing with him.

“I can stop altogether if you're going to be difficult.” Ferrus punctuated his words by thrusting against his backside, reminding him of what he’d be missing out on. “Or have you forgotten how to behave yourself, my Little Bird? Do you need me to teach you again?” Lips that were more gentle than one would think Ferrus was capable of, brushed his cheek. For a second Fulgrim contemplated continuing to be obstinate just for the delicious thrill of Ferrus forcing obedience from him. He quickly decided it wasn't worth the risk he’d follow through on his threat though.

As though sensing his surrender, Ferrus released him and Fulgrim turned to kneel before him, dropping down onto the plush carpet. “Better,” he asked, looking up into Ferrus’s steely silver eyes.

“Good boy,” Ferrus rumbled, and Fulgrim quivered. Ferrus’s lips parted as though he would tease him about that too, but Fulgrim silenced him with tongue running along the length of his cock. Instead of speaking, he groaned wordlessly.

Fulgrim continued to tease him, broad strokes of his tongue traversing Ferrus’s erection painfully slow. Until those marvelous hands tangled in his long platinum locks and demanded satisfaction. The harsh grip set his mind reeling all over again, and pliantly he opened his mouth for Ferrus to thrust harshly inside. “Go on,” the words were so strained with desire, Fulgrim could barely hear them, but he didn’t need to. Hands clutching Ferrus’s thighs, his head bobbed up and down, taking him as deep as he could, pressing his tongue into every ridge and crevice.

He could feel Ferrus simply watching him, the occasional noise of pleasure emanating from him, but otherwise silently delighting Fulgrim’s work. The feeling of his throat being so filled was driving him mad to be filled in other ways and when he could stand it no longer, he let Ferrus’s cock slide from his mouth. “This is monstrously unfair, you’re not letting me have any fun.”

Ferrus reached out, gripping his chin, and tilting it up, his thumb delicately tracing Fulgrim’s lip. “What did I say earlier? Needy. My poor little Fulgrim, needs to be fucked so badly.”

The tone would have been infuriating from anyone else, but only with Ferrus was he so far gone, he could’ve said anything. Biting his lip, he played into it. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Releasing his chin, Ferrus helped him to his feet, pulling Fulgrim into a surprisingly soft kiss before pushing him firmly face down on the bed. “At least you look delectable on those damn silk sheets you insist on.”

"Don't I always look delectable?" Fulgrim couldn't resist a little more sass. His answer was a firm slap to his ass that caused him to yelp, a stark reminder Ferrus would be rough with him if he kept asking for it.

"Hmm, actually turn over, I want to watch your face when I fuck you." Ferrus wasn't patient, roughly gripping his hips and flipping him on his back before Fulgrim could even respond. "Perfect."

Kneeling between his legs, Ferrus bent down, kissing him hungrily before trailing his lips over his neck and chest. The wonton need was exciting, but it was the more tender moments that always drove Fulgrim mad. "Ferrus I am dying of need."

"Shh. You're dramatic." But he finally picked up the bottle of lube that had been so intentionally left on Fulgrim’s bedside table. Silver fingers were quickly coated in it, and Fulgrim pulled his knees up to his chest.

Giving up on any dignity, he whined as Ferrus's fingers entered him and spread him wide. The feeling of being readied to take the one he wanted most was almost enough by itself to do him in. Clutching the sheets as waves of bliss washed over him, he bucked his hips against Ferrus’s hand.

He'd expected to be teased for being needy again. Instead, Ferrus withdrew his fingers, leaving Fulgrim feeling devastatingly empty until his cock was teasing at his entrance. With one swift move, Ferrus was inside him. As one they exhaled a sigh of relief, and Fulgrim knew he felt it too, the completeness that always came from their union.

"You feel so good," Ferrus groaned, as he began to build a steady pace. Their lips crashed together again as every movement sent a jolt of pleasure through him.

Locking his arms around him, Fulgrim kept Ferrus close, nipping at his neck and chest, anywhere he could get in fevered passion. Nails raked his rough skin, punctuating Fulgrim’s breathy moans. “I’ve missed this so terribly.”

Ferrus answered by plunging into him with greater urgency, pulling himself from his arms to allow the building intensity. Fulgrim reached down, beginning to touch himself, but his hand was swatted away swiftly as Ferrus gripped him. “Let me.”

Those hands that could so expertly craft anything wrung ecstasy from him, reducing Fulgrim to a mewling mess as Ferrus continued his relentless use of him. This was what Ferrus had meant he liked, watching him lose control, to writhe and beg for release. Finally, he could no longer stand it no longer, “Ferrus…”

“Cum for me, love.” It was permission and command, and with an explosion of euphoria, Fulgrim surrendered himself, and the world faded away until there was only the two of them in this sublime state. Ferrus continued to stroke him, milking every drop of his release and sending aftershocks through every fiber of his body.

While he was still lost in the haze of orgasm, he felt Ferrus’s final frenzied thrusts, rapid and desperate as he had been. With one last rumbling moan, Ferrus gripped his hips and buried himself in Fulgrim, filling him with his seed and holding him tightly in place until he finished. Collapsing next to him, Ferrus pulled him into his arms and nuzzled his neck. “Happy now that you’ve been properly ravished?”

“Oh, and you didn’t want it at all?” Fulgrim tried to hide the small hurt of the continued jesting behind a glib tone.

It didn’t succeed as Ferrus sighed and kissed him tenderly. “You know I did, Little Bird, and I didn’t mean to offend.”

Fulgrim continued to pout, “you could show it a little better.”

“Didn’t I, my love?” Ferrus stroked his hair and held him even tighter. “You know being parted from you is suffering for me.”

“I like you to remind me of that, so I know we suffer the same.” The hearing of it reassured him, even if he did know deep down.

“If that will make you happy. Now get some rest, I am not nearly finished with you yet.”

Fulgrim let his eyes shut and gloried in the warmth the broad chest he was curled up on. “Love you Ferrus,” he murmured.

“Love you too Fulgrim.”

#fulgrim x ferrus #fulgrim x ferrus manus #warammer #warhammer 40k #fulgrim #ferrus manus #warhammer 30k #primarch-cest #warhammer 40k fanfic #warhammer fanfic

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springdandelixn · 2 years

Text

Snowed In

Summary: Your boyfriend is away and his brother is here to play.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon elements, abuse of alcohol, drunken sex, oral (f receiving), abuse of trust, unprotected sex

Characters: Dark!Thor x F!Reader

A/N: Sinful Sunday is among us and who better to bring it in than the god of thunder himself? The fic is dark so please heed the warnings.

As always, your comments and likes are highly appreciated. Tell me what you liked about the story, or even if you hate it. I like hearing your thoughts. Reblogs would be very much loved for it will help my share my story.

And lastly, I hope you guys enjoy! ❤️

“Everything set, cupcake?”

You look to your side and smile when you see Thor standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his shoulder against the threshold.

You nod your response and close up the drawer. Thor moves aside to let you pass, hearing Loki’s bedroom door close as you head down the hall and to the stairs.

“Don’t you think that hiding spot was too easy?” He asks from behind. You look over your shoulder and shake your head.

“I didn’t hide it in the drawer.” You grin.

“Oh? Where then?”

“Why would I tell you?” A laugh leaves your lips and you sigh softly as the warmth of their living room encases you, grabbing your neglected mug of cocoa from the coffee table. “Besides, it would be fun to have the both of you flip his room upside down when he asks your help to find it.” You give him a playful look.

“Such a naughty girl you are.” He kids and you roll your eyes at him, turning your attention back to your now cold drink before gulping it all down. “Top up?” The question comes as soon as you pull the mug away from your lips, Thor towering in front of you as he holds his hand out.

“No thanks. But that cocoa was delicious.” You hand him your cup. “You always make the best one.” A grin forms on his lips at your praise and he stalks towards the attached kitchen to discard the mugs into the sink.

“Leaving already?” He asks all of a sudden when you pull on your puffer.

You nod as you zip your jacket close.

“I was hoping you could join me for dinner.” Hope lingers in his tone when he holds up a casserole of what you think is Mac and Cheese. “Loki is going to be a while, you know how our father is, and it would be nice to not have to eat alone for once.”

“I can’t stay, Thor. I’m sorry.” You give him a sad smile as you near him by the kitchen counter. “I have some work I need to get done before Monday.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the pout he gives you, how such a big man could show such a childish display. You near him and give his arm a light pat but not before peeking at the food he’s prepared over by the stove.

“Can’t I tempt you to stay with a bottle of wine?”

“I really can’t plus you know how much of a lightweight I am.” You chuckle.

He sighs, though the smile on his lips returns and he gives you a nod. “Very well. At least let me pack you some for home. I won’t be able to finish all this.”

Thor preens at your agreement, rummaging through the cupboard for a container and waiting for him as he packs it heavily with the comfort dish.

You were always fond of Thor’s caring persona. Amazed at how his brusque physic hides a softer side. He was the first to approach you when Loki had you tag along to the college reunion with his friends. It was your first time meeting him despite Loki’s countless stories that involved him, yet as soon as the both of you got talking, it was like you have known each other for years.

He even complimented you on the cupcakes you brought to share that evening, and praised you further when he found out you made them yourself. It’s how you’ve come to have that nickname, one that only he would use.

You look around the house, busying yourself as you waited for him to finish packing the food. But you frown when you catch sight of the weather through the window. Thor calls you when you push away from the counter, ignoring his question, and heading over to the glassy pane, only to be disappointed when you see the roads already covered in snow.

“What’s wr—” Thor’s voice comes close and you hear him tsk as he bares witness to the wrath of nature. “I didn’t know a storm was upon us.”

“Maybe it’s not that bad.” You tell him and make your way to the door. “I could still probably make it home if I leave now.” But Thor stops you, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him.

“Are you mad? You could barely see the road.” He grunts and shakes his head. “I can’t have you drive in this storm. Loki would agree with me as well.”

“But my work—”

“Your safety is more important than your job.” Thor scolds and you know he’s right. “C’mon. Get comfy and I’ll prepare dinner. We can even binge that animated show you like so much.” He says as he ushers you back to the couch, your eyes blinking when he takes the liberty of unzipping your puffer for you.

You slip out of your jacket, Thor draping it back on the armchair as you take a seat once more on the couch.

The show playing on the television acts as good background noise as the both of you talk and dine in the living room; each holding a bowl of mac and cheese and glasses of red wine sitting atop the low table.

Despite your protests, he’s coaxed you into indulging in a glass. Though you find no regrets in taking up his offer as the fruity essence tickles your tongue, giving life to the cheesy dish that Thor has made.

“You want another?” Thor offers when you take the last sip of your beverage, your eyes looking back and forth from your empty glass to the bottle in his hand. “Another won’t hurt. I promise.” He says with a smile and you shrug, grinning at him as you hold out the glass.

But another slowly bleeds into one more, and after the last one, you’re already drunk, feeling the alcohol swirling in your belly and your head growing heavy. You blink your eyes as your vision begins to haze, looking up at Thor’s blurry image when he nears you, a chuckle leaving his lips as he cups your face with his large hands.

“Are you okay, cupcake?” You hear him ask but you don’t know if you voiced out your response or nodded instead as another round of laughter escapes him. “Alright, it’s time to get you to bed.” He says and you want to protest, want to tell him that you can stay on the couch but your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton and he already has you standing from your seat, his arm wrapping around your waist securely as he guides you through the maze of furniture and up the stairs.

You grab hold of his hand on your hip as you climb each step, taking your time and trying to feel each incline with your foot before putting one forward. But such an attempt has proven to be a failure when your knees fold, Thor catching you easily underneath, preventing you from colliding with the wooden steps, taking you in his arms, and carrying you the rest of the way.

He places you atop a soft surface; a bed, a hum escaping you as you’re slowly cocooned in warmth, your limbs relaxing, and eyes fluttering as you fight to keep them open, hanging onto the sliver of consciousness. A scent of what you make out as lavender invades your senses and you blink when you notice Thor hovering over you, piercing sapphires staring down at your hooded eyes, his golden hair hanging like a curtain at the sides of his face.

You make out the frown on his lips, forcing yourself to stay awake, but your eyelids are too heavy that you give up trying. A soft purr forms at your throat when you feel his hand caress your side, his other taking purchase of your own and pressing it hard against his cheek.

“Why did Loki have to see you first?” He mumbles, your brows furrowing as you try to register his words. “You should be mine.” It comes as a low growl and your face twists in confusion, his lips making contact with the inside of your wrist.

“Thor?” You murmur incoherently but he shushes you, placing a finger gently against your lips before replacing it with his own.

Your head is too muddled to comprehend what’s happening, that all you feel is the softness of his lips against yours, his kiss unhurried yet full of yearning while his hand continues to move against your body, fingers grazing the cotton of your sweater and your leggings.

He breaks the kiss and moves away, a sense of reprieve washing over you before you elicit a whine as cool air licks your skin when your thighs come free from your winter buskins and your cunt bare of your panties. You move your shoulders, heavy arms reaching for cover but strong hands grab your wrists, pushing them underneath you so that you end up pinning yourself down.

You whimper from the lack of movement, a moan retching from your throat when your thighs as spread wide, Thor’s hands kneading your flesh while his lips trace kisses along the inside.

You believe it to be a dream, a wicked illusion of some sort. A trickery conjured by your alcohol-addled mind. But once more, you try to stop him, moving your legs to close but he’s strong against your drunken stupor, your body lax and limp, making you surrender to his ministrations.

His mouth alternately bites and kisses your soft skin before they settle on your clit. The breath from your lungs leaves you when you feel his warm tongue roll against the bud, the wet muscle exploring your sex, lapping on your slit, tasting and licking the essence that slowly gathers at your cunt.

Your head spins as the pleasure slowly builds in your core, Thor’s hands unrelenting in holding you down, keeping you open for him while he feasts on your pussy. Your spine tingles when a finger pushes through your folds, your back arching at the sudden intrusion and you hear the wet noises he makes, the squelching of your pussy as it sucks his digit in further.

“Oh, cupcake.” He breathes against your skin and you pant when he adds another thick finger, spreading them apart, scissoring them, and stretching you wide. Your muscles strain from the pain that mixes with the inexplicable desire that pools in your stomach.

He thrusts. Slow and long, taking his time to fill you as he buries his fingers to his knuckles before pulling it back once again, only for him to do it again and again. His name comes out as a babble from your lips and you gasp when his lips latch around your swollen bud, sucking on it hard while his fingers move in tandem with his mouth.

You teeter between oblivion and awareness, eyes fluttering yet unseeing from the strong sensation that rumbles through your entire being. Your breathing goes heavy, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as you try to suck in air, but a silent scream rips from your lips when a spike of pleasure stabs you, the pit of your abdomen churning at the sudden release.

Thor hums, satisfaction present in his tone, your pussy clenching from the loss of his digits and his mouth taking its place, drinking up every drop of your sweet nectar that continues to flow out of you.

You’re left panting on the bed, chest heaving as you try to regulate your erratic breathing. But such respite only lasts mere seconds as your arms are pulled from underneath your torso, your sweater and bra peeled from your body, and you mewl as Thor cups your tits with his large hands, kneading, massaging greedily before wrapping his lips around your pert nipple to suck on them.

His tongue rolls against the bud delicately, just like how he did your clit. His lips sucking on the nipple like a man starved before pulling away, only to give the same treatment to the other.

The bed dips as he kneels at the edge of the bed, pushing his knees underneath your legs to have your thighs frame his naked pelvis. He then grabs your arms and slings them over his shoulders, his lips leaving your tits and you cling to the muscles of his back when he lifts you from the mattress, your body limp against his muscular form as he positions the both of you at the center of the bed.

“So beautiful.” He whispers and you fight to open your eyes once again, chancing a peek and blearily seeing his dark eyes focused on you, beard glistening with your arousal.

He lays you back down on the bed, hands pressed on either side of your head. He leans down, lips brushing against yours, his kiss still soft yet taking more and more. He then trails his lips down to your chin, then your neck, lips, and tongue running down the expanse of your sternum then kissing the sides of your breasts.

You whimper when you feel the tip of his cock rub against your soaking cunt, his voice low on your skin when he whispers words you can’t pick up. You mewl when he aligns himself to your slit, his groans filling your ears and you gasp when he slowly pushes through your folds, your walls stretching even further from the size of his length. You whine upon feeling yourself grow full, the pain searing in your pelvis as if you’ll be ripped in half.

“...t-too m-m-much…”

“You can take it, cupcake.” He urges softly, dropping down to his elbow as his hand caresses the top of your head, the other reaching down to take hold of your waist, massaging your strained muscles as he continues to push in.

You groan through gritted teeth when he bottoms out, Thor growling against your cheek and staying still as your pussy pulses around him, squeezing his cock tight as your walls adjust to his size. He then pulls back, choking at how his length rubs against your walls then all at once your breath is pushed from your lungs when he thrusts hard, your body jolting against the mattress.

The movement of his hips is easy, unhurried, lips finding purchase on your cheek once more, the scruff of his beard rubbing your skin raw. But his rhythm gradually picks up its pace, quickening, giving yet taking all the same, that each thrust makes you gasp and moan and mewl as he dives in deeper, stretching parts of you that you never thought would.

You try to move your hand, grabbing his forearms but the thought of pushing him away leaves you as your mind remains clouded and dull, knowing nothing but the pleasure this man is giving and wanting nothing more than to scratch the itch that begins to burn within your core.

Thor’s hand starts to roam; first on your tits then between your body and you whimper when his fingers press down on your clit, flicking and rubbing it in sync with his thrusts. Your body goes rigid as the added stimulation rushes into you hard, your skin burning from pleasure, the euphoric sensation shrouding you and your muddled senses.

He snaps his hips faster, his hand leaving your pearl and curling his arms underneath your shoulders to hold you down and flush against him. Your hands grab hold of his forearms and you turn into a moaning mess, digging your nails into his skin as he ruts into your relentlessly, the sound of smacking flesh mixing with his growls invading your ears, bringing you higher and higher into your peak.

Thor mumbles your name and you squeak back in response, his lips claiming yours, devouring your moans, swallowing them whole. Your heart beats faster, and your muscles clench as the tension within you tightens, back arching off the bed when the tip of his cock repeatedly presses against the sweet spot hidden within.

“Come for me, baby—” He coaxes, knees digging further into the bed that has your ass lifting into the air, feeling him slide even deeper from the angle he fucks you in. “Come for me.” His words are strangled and you moan when you feel him throb against your walls.

A quick sense of clarity then rushes into you as the tension in your core finally snaps, crying out as the blinding orgasm takes a hold of you, body going stiff, legs shaking and your pussy walls fluttering around his cock, coating him with your sweet juices as you come undone underneath him.

He chants your name like a prayer he was born to say, his cock easing in and out of you even more from your essence. Then he’s grunting, his muscles going taut beneath your hands and you gasp as he fills you up with his seed. He keeps thrusting in you, your body crushing underneath, helpless from his massive form as he continues to pump out every drop.

Your arms go limp as you pant heavily, shivering as your heart slowly descends from its frenzied beating. The haze once more returns and you can’t find the strength in you to move, the effects of the alcohol and exhaustion claiming to pull you back into a sense of limbo once again.

“I love you, cupcake.” Thor’s voice comes soft, showering your face and your neck with kisses as he adjusts you both on the bed, his cock still hard and nestled inside. The darkness eventually looms over you, cradling you along with the hands of Thor and lulling you, finally falling into oblivion.

Your entire body aches when you wake and you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck with how your head throbs. The scent of mint and pine surrounds you and when you open your eyes, you see the familiar surroundings of Loki’s room.

“There she is.” His voice comes in soft and you blink from your stupor when you feel a soft kiss press against your temple.

“Loki?” You call and you feel the familiar hands rest against the side of your face, your vision coming clear and you see his emerald eyes shining down on you. “You’re home?”

“I am, darling.” He hums and you slowly push yourself up from the bed, Loki guiding you and squeezing himself to sit beside you. “Here.” A cool glass is then pressed into your palm and you take it, feeling something being slipped past your lips, Loki urging you to take a drink.

You do as he bids, taking the glass to your lips and drinking greedily as the water cools your dry throat. There’s soreness between your thighs and you try to wrack your head as to why.

You hand Loki back the glass and lazily slump back into the bed, the blanket covering you once more up to your chin.

“Thor said you indulged last night,” Loki says softly and the memory comes to the forefront of your mind. Thor packing you dinner. Getting snowed in. You and Thor eating and drinking in the living room. But it’s all you get—it’s all that flows into your head. “Good thing he was here to take care of you.” He adds and you blink up once more to focus on your boyfriend’s face.

“He did?” You ask and you see a glimpse of gold by Loki’s door.

Thor’s body almost takes the expanse of the threshold, his eyes fully intent on you, a stoic expression on his face. He seems to be thinking, observing and calculating but you blink away such thoughts as another pang of pain takes over your head.

“You were quite out of it, cupcake.” He calls from where he stands, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“You go back to sleep,” Loki says at your side, a lazy smile forming on your lips when he presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “We’ll see if I can drive you back later but for now, rest.”

You nod and mumble your thanks, eyes closing as you allow sleep to take over once more.

I no longer hold a tag list but if you wish to be updated with new fics I release, follow my archives blog, @springdandelixn-archives and turn on the notifications.

#thor odinson #thor #thor x reader #thor x female reader #thor x you #dark thor #dark!thor #dark fic #snowed in #thor fanfiction #mcu #mcu au #thor au #coconut bun stories

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whumpy-daydreams · 6 months

Text

An Unexpected Reunion

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CW: ref to past abuse, ref to torture, swearing

Rowena spent a month in temporary accommodation. It wasn't that she didn't like living with the others, but it was a constant reminder of what had happened. Emma and Shaan were moving out anyway - together, which wasn't a surprise.

The staff had been helpful in setting her up in an apartment in her birth city. Perhaps it was a stupid move, a sentimental move, but it was the only place she truly knew and liked.

The flat was small and the landlord was a dick, but it was in a good location, high up overlooking a small district of cafes and charity shops.

She'd got a job in one of the coffee shops a couple of streets away. The other employees were friendly enough, even if they did look at her weirdly when they thought she couldn't see. But they never asked what happened.

Rowena spent the rest of her time drinking or rebuilding her strength, turning half of her apartment into a makeshift gym. Bur doing push-ups wasn't enough to reassure herself that she would be able to win in a fight.

...

Paz took a deep breath as he paid the entry fee to the fighting pit. It had been two years since Rowena had left. A whole year after she should have returned.

He'd pieced together some of the pieces. Some of it he'd suspected years ago, though he'd never told her his theories. But trying to find a hitman (hitwoman?) was not easy. There were only whispers, the odd post on some dark-web forum, brief news stories about businessmen who ended up dead.

It was a whisper that had brought him here. A tale about a girl who was raking in money at some grimy underworld fighting pit. Paz just hoped he was wrong.

The stadium was packed, sweat and blood filling the air, mingling with screams and loud bets. Paz pushed through the tightly packed bodies, the spectators too engrossed in the fight at hand to give him a second glance.

It was obvious the fight had been going on for a while. Both people in the ring were panting, covered in bruises and dried blood as they circled each other, fists half raised. Paz's heart sank.

Her hair was shorter and there was a gauntness to her face that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her - but it was her.

...

Rowena was tired. And sore. This was her third opponent of the night, and the fight had gone on for almost ten minutes. Time to finish this up.

She dodged as the man lunged forward with a sloppy jab, bringing her shin up into his stomach. He grunted, stumbling back. From there it was easy: cross, hook, uppercut, and he was down.

Cheers and groans erupted from the crowd as money exchanged hands. The ringmaster stepped forward, holding Rowena's arm up as he paraded her around the grimy ring.

"Anyone else want to try their luck against tonight's champion?" he shouted over the din, when someone in the crowd caught Rowena's eye.

"Shit," she muttered. "I'm done. Get some fresh meat in here, I'll take my money in a minute." The ringmaster didn't bother hiding his scowl but let her go, quickly beckoning two more men into the ring.

...

Rowena was in the corner taking the bloody tape off her knuckles when Paz found her.

"Rowena?"

"Hello Paz." She didn't look at him. He exhaled heavily.

"What- Jesus, Ro. What the hell? Hello? That's it? It's been two years." Paz hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected to feel angry.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know - 'oh my god, Paz, I've been looking for you', or 'sorry I left you with no information', or 'I missed you'. What happened?"

"Is that it?" Finally Rowena looked at him, eyes hard. "Hi Paz, I missed you, sorry I was forced to leave. Are we done? Good." She turned away again, pulling on a plaid shirt.

"No, that's-" he took a deep breath, his voice softer. "That's not what I meant. What happened to you? Where have you been?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"Why? Why does it matter so much to you? Why do I-" Rowena's voice hitched in her throat.

"Because you're my friend, Rowena. Because you're funny and strong and brave. I've spent months looking for you. When you didn't come back I was so scared you were dead. And then I find you in an illegal fucking fighting pit and it's like you don't even want to know me..."

Rowena's fingers twitched though she stayed still. "I thought it would be easier." Paz struggled to hear her over the din, but he could still make out the strain in her voice.

"That what would be easier?" he pushed.

"Everything. I only ever put you in danger."

"I can look after myself, Ro." She laughed; a cold, dry chuckle. "Just because you're some assassin that I'm completely helpless? I'm not a child." Rowena tensed as he mentioned being an assassin and spun to face him. Now it was Paz's turn to laugh. "Yeah, I worked it out. Not so fucking stupid after all."

"You know jack shit about me. About what I had to do to protect you." Her words were like venom in her mouth. "And now you have the nerve to tell me I'm cruel?"

"For the record I never said you were being cruel - but even if I had, you've killed people-"

"It's not like I had a choice, Paz."

"Bullshit! Everyone can choose to do the right thing."

"I tried." Paz rolled his eyes and Rowena stepped towards him, hands balled into fists. "No. Don't roll your fucking eyes. Because when I said no Marcus threatened you. Told me how he'd make me watch as he cut bits off of you."

Paz almost stopped breathing, but Rowena wasn't done. She turned around, pulling her shirt down to reveal the scars that ran down her back.

"I got these because I was friends with you. Because I dared to have a single friend." She turned back to face him and he noticed her tears were wet with tears. "So don't tell me I had a choice or that you can take care of yourself or that I'm the cruel one."

She stared at him for a second before grabbing her things and storming off, grabbing the stack of notes the ringmaster had left for her.

Paz just felt numb. She was right. He didn't know anything about her. His best friend of nine years and he had no idea who she was. You know she's funny. That she's strong and brave and that she got hurt to protect you.

The smell of blood and sweat drifted after him out of the fighting pit as Paz ran after Rowena.

tag list - @i-eat-worlds

#mortiawrites #whump #angst #land of liars #this got kinda long and dialogue is my kryptonite but oh well

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