#i was originally just gonna post small clips from this but fuck it

[itsmeatballworld]

| just a dream |

summary | Bucky and reader are neighbors in Brooklyn. When reader has a spicy dream about the broody man, it sets off a series of events that ignites something in both of them.

pairing | bucky barnes x f!reader

wc | 6k [pls I got carried away]

warnings | smut & fluff babes so 18+ ONLY. Cursing, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, p in v (no condom mentioned but pls wrap it up irl), lots of praise kink, handjob, cock warming (if you squint). If a one-shot could be a slow-burn romance, here it is.

a/n | set during tfatws. I posted this on my ao3 account originally, so here it is on my tumblr account!

Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY [again, 18+ only] Minors, Do Not Interact.

dividers by @/firefly-graphics 

The shimmer of moonlight illuminated the small space in an ethereal glow. Below the bedroom window, a messy bed was littered with pillows. Pictures hung on the walls to hide imperfections laced throughout the simple paint color. 

And you were standing among the wreckage of clothes stripped off your body one piece at a time.

Your hand played with the fabric of your panties, watching the tall masculine figure waiting in the darkness for your next move.

You flicked your tongue. “Your turn. Jeans first.” 

On command, a pair of jeans landed at your feet as proof of his contribution to the clothing pile. 

“Now the shirt,” you said. A hum escaped your lips as you unhooked your bra. You waited until his shirt, now crumpled in a ball, fell to the floor. 

He was nearby, hidden by the darkest part of the room where moonlight failed to highlight his handsome features. 

“Lie back,” his sultry voice demanded.

Bare legs brushed the edge of your bed as you pout your lips. “What’s in it for me, Sergeant?” 

He stepped closer to your scantily dressed body, as only your underwear remained. “Lie back and find out.” 

A grin plays at your lips before you tossed yourself down, burying yourself in the silky sheets. 

Through the dark, it was hard to see him but it was clear he had you in a trance. 

The bed creaked under his weight as he moved closer. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes,” you mewled, nearly squirming from the never-ending tightness in your lower belly.

You needed him. Wanted him. 

Callous hands gripped your ankles. “Can I taste you?” 

Your breathy voice sputtered out ‘yes’. 

Instantly, his head lowered into the only sliver of moonlight over the bed. His blue eyes were the first thing you always were drawn to. Bright and clear like the sky on a spring morning. But woven throughout were waves of steel, silver, like a shadow trying to dull his brightness. Chiseled jaw with stubble. Short brown hair that clipped perfectly around his face. 

“Bucky!” Bucky Barnes, your neighbor who just moved into the complex, was the only person you wanted in this world.

Those blue eyes drop to your body. 

“Bucky.” 

Fingers trailed up to the band of your panties and within seconds they were gone. “Impatient as always,” his sweet laugh seemed to take on a hint of something hot, something feral. 

“Mhm.” 

His head dipped between your legs. “Baby,” Bucky gripped your thighs as his tongue slid across the softest, most inner part of your skin. “I’m gonna make you feel good. Just like that,” he coaxed as your knees spread to allow him complete access. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Your head dropped back against the bed at the sheer sound of his raspy, honey dipped voice – You snapped your eyes open. 

Sweat pooled at the back of your neck. Sheets tangled between your legs, twisting around into a woven knot. Your hands fell to the thumping rhythm in your chest. 

“Fuck, fuck…” you cursed between pants of air. Like the world was crashing down on your chest, you couldn't breathe. 

Bucky. Bucky. It felt so real. His skin on yours. His touch. His tongue. “What the fuck?” 

Bucky Barnes, your neighbor, who you talk to in passing since he moved in. He was very attractive, you couldn’t deny that. And now you’re having sex dreams about him. 

He was quiet and removed, most likely because of who he used to be: the Winter Soldier.

People whispered about him in the complex, sharing secrets on the elevator. I heard he’s killed thousands of people. I heard he worked for Hydra and is still working for them. 

You ignored their stupid comments, knowing damn well he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. When those blue eyes looked at you it was clear that he was a wounded shell of a man trying to find himself in a new world, not some soulless machine. 

And those vibrant eyes carried into your dream. A dream that felt too real. 

You wobbled off the bed, which was easy considering you were inches from falling. Padding to the bathroom you jumped into a luke-warm shower. The more you scrubbed and washed the thoughts away the more you could feel him on your skin. Under your skin. In every inch of your mind. 

He was like a drug, lingering in your system. A drug you didn’t expect to be so potent. It’s just Bucky. He’s just some guy you met from across the hall. He’s a nice guy.

Maybe it was because you helped him not too long ago when he moved in as a “welcome to the neighborhood” greeting. Since then, you both have done little things for each other.

For one, you brought him muffins because he’d mention quickly how he likes blueberry sweets. It was a simple thing that offered no reciprocation. But then, he brought you a bunch of Japanese sweets that were out of this world amazing. And the little things kept on happening. Now, you chat in the halls and you look forward to it everyday.

Shit, maybe you were kind of crushing on Bucky Barnes. 

“UGH!” a frustrated yelp escaped your lips. The tile wall became a post to rest your wildly spinning head. 

No, this dream – these feelings – they were all just in your mind. Right?

He replayed the scene in his mind. Over and over, he circled back through the hazy nightmare. Blood. Bullets. Knives. He killed people, he knew it was him in those memories. It was his finger pulling the trigger, and yet it was like someone else did it. 

It wasn’t really him. It was what they made him to be. A monster. 

“—still having nightmares?” 

The question cut through his dissociative moment, but like a statue he kept still. His eyes focused on the corner where the tile met the molding. 

“James,” the woman pestered, “I asked you a question. Are you still having nightmares?” 

“No.” Bucky Barnes tipped his head back, staring up at the blank white ceiling above him. 

“James. I can’t help if you’re not being truthful with me.” 

He didn’t respond. He knew there wasn’t any way he’d get out of these mandatory therapy sessions. The longer he sat here, the less sanity Bucky could maintain. 

“Okay,” his therapist sighed wistfully, “no nightmares?” Her eyes burned into him. “Fine. Then let’s move on. Have you talked to anyone recently? Sam? That neighbor across the hall?” 

His eyes snapped towards the mid-aged woman. “My neighbor?” 

“Now don’t play dumb.” 

“I’m not—” 

“The neighbor who helped you.” He stared blankly at the therapist. She sighed, scribbling something in her notebook. “She fixed your radio—” 

“Gramophone.” 

Her pen moved as her eyes circled him, curiously. “A what?” 

“You know, a gramophone. A record player.”

The woman hummed and Bucky clenched his fist. He started to silently plot how he could escape the questions he was currently under fire for. He didn't want to talk about the nicest woman from across the hall. The kindest stranger with the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. He’d like to keep it to himself. 

“Well. This woman who fixed your gramophone is the same woman you mentioned,” she scanned the paper before wildly circling something, “knocking at your door with…muffins.”

He paused, contemplating her words. He’d be lying if he said he hasn't thought about his neighbor on more than a few occasions now. 

On the elevator, he’d nod when she said ‘good morning’. Another time, she knocked to tell him about the roofing construction in the complex that would start early in the morning. It was sweet of her to tell him, but Bucky never had the nerve to say he never slept so the noise never bothers him. 

She’s the one with the sweetest smile and pleasant conversation. He couldn't help but like her a bit more each day they interacted. Just last week, he walked with her up to their complex from the street. 

Although Bucky told that to his therapist, what he didn't say was how he knocked on her door with homemade dorayaki. It was a gift from his friend Yori but he wanted to share something sweet with the kindest woman he knows. 

But none of that would leave the confines of his mind. Instead, a snide smile seemed to match his tone. Bucky sighed, “boy did I say all that?” 

“James.” 

“Doc.” 

She groaned, clicking the pen again. The look on her face was something Bucky was used to now. The woeful stares and patronizing expression were a part of coming back from being the monster they made him into. The weapon of a man Hydra used at their disposal until he was no longer necessary–until he wasn’t a puppet anymore. 

“James, did you ever think of trying to make friends? It’s healthy to have people in your life.” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, Bucky focused on his black leather gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The only person he wants to talk to is his neighbor.

Maybe the doc was right. Maybe he should be friends with her.

“Look, why don’t we start fresh next session,” the therapist sighed as the notebook dropped onto the side table. “Hopefully you’ll be more open and honest.” 

Bucky sighed, his tongue flicked over his teeth. “Sure, doc.”

The text message was very clear: be there in ten minutes. That was two hours ago. Either your date had a series of terrible events happen or he stood you up. You checked the clock again. 8:12pm. 

It was dark outside now and you could barely see past the street lamps on either side of the road. Tonight was the first of many real dates in a long time. Whatever the reasoning, whether it was no guy was good enough or you were just too terrified to put yourself back out there, you agreed to go out with the guy from work. He seemed nice enough. 

But your kindness was running short. He was late. Very, very late. 

Now it’s 8:16pm. 

Heels tapped impatiently as you sat in the lobby of your building. 

“Miss?” A deep voice called out from across the room. The night concierge peered over the desk. Coffee in hand, he raised his mug. “Sure you don’t want some?” 

“No, but thank you.” Your smile dipped. These past few hours you’ve been sitting downstairs with the sweetest concierge named Joe asking if you needed anything. He nearly handed off the homemade pupusas he had in his lunch bag after an hour of waiting. 

You sighed, tapping the screen until you reread his message again. Ten minutes. You typed out a quick response, again, hoping he’d at least –

The screen flashed to a new text. 

Your Date: Shit I forgot. Sorry. Rain check?

The screen went dark. Anger and sadness swirled through your body and there was no distinction between them. You were furious — and rightfully so. He forgot? He was acting as if he misplaced his car keys or left a sweatshirt at his friend's house. 

You stood up, mind racing, blinded by swirling emotions and – something hard bumped into you. You stumbled, grasping at emptiness until a strong arm grabbed ahold of you. 

“You okay?” Staring down at you, Bucky Barnes gawked. 

Those steel eyes froze you. “I’m fine…” 

He nodded, slowly helping you back up to your feet. You flattened your outfit into place as Bucky handed off your phone. “Thanks.” 

“Miss,” Joe called out. “Any luck?” The concierge tapped at his wristwatch. “If he was my son, I’d yell at him for keeping you waiting.” 

Bucky didn’t move from his spot near you. 

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “He’s not coming.” 

Joe slapped the desk, spinning in his chair. “Now that’s some grade A bullshit!” 

“It’s fine. I’ve got a pint of chocolate ice cream in the freezer calling my name.” You turned slightly to Bucky, staring anywhere but his eyes. The same eyes you dreamt about the other night. So instead, you fixated on his hands. The same hands you fantasized about touching you. His chest. The same chiseled and bulky body you’ve caressed in your dream— 

“Do you wanna go get some dinner?” 

Your face scrunched in response. “What?” 

“I was just thinking about eating at this diner down the block.”

“With me? You want to go out to eat with... me?”

“I’m asking, aren't I?”

“You’re talkative tonight,” you chuckled.

There was a spark in those mysterious eyes. Maybe it was because he asked you out or maybe it was because you were actually going to say yes.

“I’d love to.”

One month later.

Bucky ducked down. 

“Right there, no on the left–” 

“My left?” 

“Yes,” you laughed. He reached lower until you nodded with approval. You clasped your hands together as he brought the next round of vinyls over. 

The small office in your apartment was converted into a book/music room where you housed everything in messy but surprisingly organized stacks. Rows and rows of bookshelves kept your things lined neat enough to tell the difference between albums and novels. A dresser sat across the shelves topped with the record player and lots of random things you owned. Opposite that was a small loveseat you dragged back to the apartment from a flea market. 

It has been a month since your dinner dates started. Neither of you said they were real “dates”, but both of you secretly felt like it.

Every Friday night (and a few Saturdays too), Bucky knocks on your door and walks you to a restaurant. A cute little Italian bistro or a modern Thai restaurant in the midst of old school Brooklyn. Then, it was back to your place for music, movies, and pure enjoyment of another person’s company. 

Each night has been more exciting than the last. And somehow in the midst of dinners and getting to know this solitary man, you felt it.

That spark.

It sounded stupid but it was real – that feeling you get when you fall in love. The butterflies and tingling when talking to him. The way he smiled made you melt. The goofy laughs and excited conversations about his obsessions. You were head-over-heels, mind numbingly in love, with Bucky Barnes.

And those feelings were getting harder to ignore. 

“Listen to this one,” you dropped the record player’s arm down. “You’re gonna love it.”

A soft melody echoed through the space and he nodded his head in approval. “Told you. It's a good album.” 

“Yeah, but I never heard of them.” He leaned against the dresser. 

“Never?” 

“No,” his eyes flickered from you to the album. The Bee Gees. His gloves were removed, piled on top of the mahogany colored wood. Stacks of vinyls towered over the old-school record player you owned. 

“Here, this is one of my favorites.” You yanked a record out from the stack and handed it to Bucky. “Take it home with you, listen to it, then tell me what you think.” 

His brows furrowed. “Why not now?” 

“It’s getting late, I don't want to bore you all night.”

“You’d never bore me,” Bucky said as he twisted the record. “I like being with you.”

Instead of focusing on him and those hands, and what he just said, you dove through the next pile of records.

/-/

When you looked away, he grazed his eyes down your body. He was infatuated with you. The way you moved, the way you smiled. Everything you did had Bucky’s eyes locked on you. It made him feel like he was going crazy. Maybe he was going crazy. He’s never felt so attracted to someone like this before. When he asked you to dinner, he chalked it up to trying to be friends. But that wasn't it. He liked you. He liked you but was too afraid to make a real move. 

So asking you to dinner after being stood up seemed like the easiest way to ask you out without putting himself out there. And every Friday for just over a month has been heaven and hell. He was ecstatic to take you out. To make you smile. To hear your laugh. 

But he was in hell—a hell centered around his paranoia. He doesn't want to lose you if he tells you how he feels. 

Shit. It was getting harder to ignore his feelings for you. 

Some time passed and you both wound up on the couch. Conversations came and went. They were silly topics and some things more personal. He let out a slow exhale. “I don't get it.” 

You sat up. “Get what?” 

“I don’t understand why you’re so nice to me. I know you know who I am… or who I was. I just can't understand how someone so kind and smart and–”

“I know a good person when I see one. Maybe it’s hard for you to see that you’re not a bad person. You’ve done bad things, most people have. But that soldier isn't the man who’s in front of me listening to music.” Your hand gently brushed his vibranium fingers exposed past the henley sleeve. “The past doesn't always have to define who you are today. If you know the bad stuff, understand the horrible things you've done, and you grow from it? You’re a better person than the rest of us, Bucky.” 

He didn’t move or speak. He just watched you as if your next move would be the one to level him down to nothing but ‘the real him’.

The real him—when he was just a dumb kid from Brooklyn heading out to fight for a war he knew little about. You saw him for who he was: wounded and broken, but not irreversibly damaged. You could see him for who he wanted to be and Bucky wasn’t ever going to let that go. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured your name like it was a prayer on his tongue. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

He lifted the vinyl. “Well I should head home. I’ll play this tonight,” he smiled softly.

/-/

That smile – Oh. Oh. You felt a rush of nerves and excitement through your body. 

“Thank you. Tonight was fun.” 

“I had a lot of fun too.” He was warming up to you. Or you were warming up to the cold, grumpy ex-Winter Soldier. 

He gave you one last smile but you were too in your head to realize. You liked him. You really, really liked him. Bucky was already out in the living room when you called for him. “Next Friday?” 

You wanted to do this again. More than Fridays. Many times. For dinner. Drinks. Anything. He sparked something in you that couldn't be put into words. Something unknown. Unfamiliar. Exciting. You wanted, no, needed more. 

He poked his head through the doorway. That light smile plastered across his face, warming his tense features. “Next Friday.”

One week later.

You polished off the last handful of popcorn. Bucky slumped against your shoulder as he tapped his fingers on his jean-covered knee.

“Okay you were right. I really hated that movie,” he turned to you with a dreamy expression.

“If you liked the Hobbit that much when it came out–”

“When it came out in 1937 it was a masterpiece.” He rested deeper into the couch as the credits rolled and it brought you back to the streaming platform’s screen. “Now that was poorly executed.”

Bucky could ramble on and on about his love for fantasy and science fiction and you would happily sit through every second of it.

“We should watch Princess Bride next.”

Resting blue eyes flicker to your face. “Game on,” he murmured with a grin.

“Need another drink?” You stood up and moved towards the kitchenette.

“Nah, I’m fine. Thanks.” He kept that sweet smile for most of the night. So you played vinyl after vinyl while making cookies. Then movie after movie. At two in the morning, you were wide awake and no matter what excuse you used, tonight was the best night in a long time. Barnes was a surprising man under all that stoic exterior. He was flirty. Goofy. A bit of a nerd. He was more than who he thought he was before.

“You’re staring.” Bucky stood to meet you. The lip of his shirt dropped over his exposed muscular mid drift, but not before you caught a glance at his defined abs.

You nearly choked when you remembered the abs you dreamt about the other week and how eerily similar they were. “I was just thinking about how late it was.” You turned and shut the fridge. “Maybe we should go to bed.”

We.

“Yeah, you’re right. We should go to bed.” He didn’t correct you either. A wave of excitement and nerves bundled inside.

“I’ll set up the couch in the office if that’s okay?”

“Fine with me,” he stretched again.

Carefully, you stepped into the book infested room to fix the cushions. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.”

“Next Friday?”

He nodded, “next Friday.”

“Feel free to leave a note on my door if you need to switch out a vinyl.”

“A note? Like a love note?”

The flirty side that you’ve seen of Bucky was back. He was in this trance, watching you. He was mesmerizing but you continued fixing his bed. You moved towards the dresser in the room, opening the top drawer for blankets.

“No, but I wouldn’t mind,” you whispered.

“You wouldn’t?”

You shook your head. “I’d write back but don't expect anything poetic.”

“Well then.” Bucky leaned in, “guess I’ve got some writing to do.”

“Guess so.”

He was so close to you. If it weren't for his shirt, you’d be staring at his abs again. “What would you say?” Your voice was so quiet.

“Hm?”

“In the note.”

“My love note?”

“Yeah.”

He kept that piercing yet warming gaze on you. “I’d say that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You’re the kindest person to ever walk into my life. You look at me and I can’t help staring back. I’d say…you’re amazing. And that I’d be an idiot not to tell you. I’d be even more of an idiot not to show you how I feel.”

Those butterflies returned with a sense of urgency. Hot, twisting excitement buried deep in your belly as his rasping voice sucked you in. It wasn’t a matter of how you would tell him how you feel. It was a matter of when. And this was it.

“How would you show me?”

He stepped in close. “Show you how I feel…” he pondered the question. Searching his mind, Bucky seemed to be in a swirling pit of emotions in front of you. “If I was the old me, before everything, I would take you out to dinner.”

“Check,” you grinned. “Next.”

“Well, then walk you home.”

“Bucky, this sounds like any old Friday–”

“And I’d kiss you.” He was so close yet not close enough. You needed him. The dresser’s edge dug into your back as he stepped towards you again. “I’d kiss you softly so I could savor each second.”

Something hot and urging was burning through you. Then, his hand brushed against your wrist. “Is this okay?”

“Touching me?” Your voice felt heavy.

“Yeah. Touching you.”

Your breathing was rapid and deep, each inhale bringing you one second closer to smashing your lips on his. “Yes.” You were breathless. Then his arm brushed your hip.

“And then…what would happen?”

A wolfish grin crossed Bucky’s face. “Honey, we’d barely make it to the bedroom.”

Warmth rushed to your belly to the core of your body. You wanted to be held by Bucky. Kissed. Licked. Fucked. One more touch and you were sure there wouldn't be anything stopping you. And you were desperate for him.

“Touch me again,” you whispered. The wooden dresser dug into your back but the pain was so faint compared to the toe curling feeling Bucky gave you.

He loomed over you. Skin and vibranium trailed up your jeans until he clamped down on your waist.

“I’m a bit rusty,” Bucky whispered. “But I wanna make you feel good. Tell me if this is okay.”

You feverishly nodded, tugging at the henley he wore. “I want you. I need you.”

Those bright blue eyes darkened as something primal took over. His hips pin onto yours as his knee slides between your legs. You hitch a breath as he leaned into the movement. His tongue dragged across his bottom lip like he was thinking about his next move–contemplating his options.

“That so?” His mouth hovered above yours. Tentatively, Bucky squeezed your waist as his warm breath trailed down your cheeks.

You whined and inched closer until you kissed him. It was soft, just like he said. His lips danced with yours while those hands migrated up to your neck. He circled the delicate skin at your clavicle, tracing it back and forth.

Savoring every morsel of his kiss, you leaned in with a whimpering sigh.

He moaned in reply and twisted his fingers into the back of your hair. He pulled and angled himself so you were pressed more into him rather than the dresser.

“You’re… rusty?” you gasp between kisses.

“I used to be pretty good at this part.”

“Mhm,” you slid your hands down his chest. “I’ll say.”

Within seconds, you were straddling Bucky as he carried you down the hallway. He was strong. Never did you doubt the ex-winter soldier to carry you across your apartment. The man was multitalented.

He kissed you again, tugging on your soft lips with each step to the bedroom. You slide your hips down a little with the hopes of relieving the already budding ache. But it was his bulge that halted your movement.

Bucky pulled back, “shit. You feel that? You feel how hard you make me?”

A mewling moan escaped your lips and you pushed down onto his cock. “So fucking hard.”

He growled when you rutted against him. “Oh, God.”

You liked the way he quivered under your body as if your touch made him desperate to relieve his own ache. His arms pulled you closer, “Christ, I'm not gonna hold out much longer with you doing that to me.”

The bedroom door opened and closed with a quiet thump. His hand was firm on your ass while the other wrapped around your waist as he maneuvers through the pitch-black room.

You nudged against his stiff cock again. “Please.”

Without hesitating, he lowered you to the bed. Bucky dropped to his knees as your pants and underwear were tugged down instantly. It was all his pent-up excitement fueling this sleep deprived man.

As he made a move for your top, you pressed your hands against his chest.

Your tongue flicked between your lips. “Slow down, now it’s your turn. Shirt.”

He grinned, tossing the henley to the floor with your clothes. You pushed him back to admire his chiseled body. But you also couldn't help but stare at the scars. The vibranium.

Bucky moved with you on the bed and nestled between your legs. Any clothes left were tossed over the side, forgotten.

He kneeled above you, heavy eyes scanning your body. Every inch.

“Fuck,” he murmured. “You’re beautiful.” He dipped low, nestling himself fully between your opened legs. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

Tentative movements of his hands explored your body. His mouth drags hot, open-mouthed kisses up your inner thighs. Then, that mouth was on your pussy. Gentle and unsure, Bucky started to figure out what you liked. Understanding what wasn’t comfortable. But eventually, he had a handle on it.

He picked up on the way you twisted and pressed down. Sensing your love for his movements, he continued. Your hands gripped the short brown hair on his head. You gasped, “Bucky please.”

He rolled his tongue then flattened it, twisting and stimulating your sensitive clit. His vibranium hand slowly trailed up until it reached your breast. He squeezed as Bucky continued the same pattern over and over. Inching you closer to the inescapable height of your orgasm.

You whined, “oh. Oh, yes.”

“So good. Just like that,” his finger slipped inside. Then another. You bucked up as he curled and fucked you with his thick fingers. “You’re so tight,” he moaned into your pussy between licks. “Come on baby. Just like that.”

“Please,” your hand tugged his hair again. But he wasn’t relenting. Bucky’s fingers continued their rhythmic pattern in and out as his tongue lapped your clit. You cried out, “Fuck, baby—”

He rocked his hips into the mattress. You knew he was still so hard. The image of his hard cock and the feeling of him between your legs sent you over the edge. The throbbing sensation of your orgasm hit you like a train. You cried out, bucking under his weight. It was hot and fast, but you could still feel another orgasm begging for release once again.

His mouth slipped away from your throbbing pussy as he dragged his devilish tongue up your stomach.

To your happy surprise, his thick fingers stayed inside you. Slowly moving in and out as if he could feel your second orgasm building up quickly. His lips trailed to each of your breasts. He nipped at the sensitive skin before finally kissing you.

A breathy gasp escaped your lips. He was relentless with those fingers of his. He grinned, pinning himself against you. His hard cock pressed down on your stomach.

“Bucky.” Your hands traveled down. You squeezed.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as a gasping moan left his lips. You squeezed again, rubbing up and down his cock already slick with his own pre-cum. “I can help you feel good too.”

He dropped his head, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

“I want to make you feel good too.” You squeezed his cock again. He nearly toppled over. “You deserve it.”

He moaned in response. “Yes, keep goin’ baby. Touch me.” His words were as hot as the room.

In that instance, he moved his thumb back over your clit. His fingers continued to thrust in and out. You grasp his cock again, watching the blue of his eyes deepen. You pumped him, but the stimulation was getting to you.

“S-shit,” you withered. “Fuck, I need you. I knew it the moment–” you gasp as his fingers curl up. “I-I knew it when we went out the first night.”

Breathless, Bucky propped himself up higher. His eyes roamed your body and how determined you were to make him cum with you. “Mm, that’s my girl, getting off at the thoughts of the first date we went on.”

“You looked so g-good.” You mewled, feeling the pinnacle of your orgasm again.

Bucky groaned as you flickered your thumb back over his tip. “What do you need?” It was a statement, a demand, not a question. He knew exactly what you needed. What you wanted.

“I need you.” His mouth found yours as he seamlessly screwed you with his fingers. The moment he brushed over your sore and aching clit for the last time, the spasm rocked over you. Waves of heat rolled over your body.

“Yes, oh, god yes!” It was earth-shattering but you needed more. It was obvious he needed more.

“Inside,” your hand continued to thrust his throbbing cock. He moaned as you squeezed his shaft, rubbing your thumb up the tip. He was not going to last much longer. “Inside me. Now.”

Those blue eyes widened and you opened your legs wider. Grabbing a small pillow from the bed, Bucky nudged it under your hips. He moved slowly as he aligned himself. His tip nudged at your opening.

Fuck, he was huge. No matter how many orgasms you had, his aching cock was bigger than you’ve ever taken.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts.”

He moved in, gently stretching your already relaxing muscles. You gasped as he pushed in a bit deeper.

Those blue eyes shot up to you, “I should stop–”

“No.” You lifted your hips and he slid deeper. You tossed your head back. “Keep going.”

You exhaled as he sunk down to the base of his cock. He pressed into you, leaning above by his elbow. The motions were slow and steady at first as Bucky found a solid rhythm again. You dug your nails into his back as he thrusted deeper. Harder. Faster. He was fucking you so deep, so good.

Bucky kissed you. His vibranium fingers found your clit once more. The sensations were too much to bear.

You cried out in pleasure as he groaned into your neck. Harder. Faster.

A third orgasm wrecked your body. The sensation of his cock slamming into you with the rub of his vibranium thumb on your clit sent chills down your spine. Twisting and writhing under his touch nearly had Bucky spilling over. He bared down on you, feeling every inch of your pussy tighten and throb. You mewled, “oh god yes. Fuck yes.”

When you were finished, he was close behind. It was like he waited for you. Hoping to please you first like he insisted the moment he kissed you.

Bucky slammed into you again and came with a breathy groan. “I knew you could take it,” he grunted, spilling inside as he leaned down to press his sweaty chest against your breasts.

“That’s it,” he moans. “S-so good to me. Take it.”

It was all too much. His body against yours, the feeling of him inside you. You were folding at his touch. With one final rut, he was finished.

Against the bed, Bucky collapsed into you. Both bodies were covered in sweat, panting like it had been the most intensive work out of your lives. He kissed your lips, not bothered to pull out.

He liked how he was still throbbing inside you.

“Wow.” He murmured your name, “That was…you’re amazing.” He brushed your cheek. “Was that okay?”

“Y-you’re kidding, right?” Your chest bounces as you laugh. It wasn’t intentional, but you couldn’t contain yourself.

Bucky lifted enough to see your smiling face and glossed over eyes. You looked drunk on him.

“What?”

“How the fuck are you rusty?”

His tight lips turned into a wide grin as he joined in on the laughter. “We made it to the bedroom at least,” he hovered above your body.

“Barely.”

You smiled. He kissed you. Pressed together, slick with sweat, you held each other tightly.

Sunlight danced across the bedroom leaving a rosy glow everywhere. You stretched, remembering the feeling of his skin pressed against your body.

Remembering last night. 

His kisses were hauntingly beautiful. Each time his lips brushed yours, it felt like parts of you were placed back where they belong. Like pieces of yourself had been missing for years and he was putting you back together. You’d never be able to forget the way he felt, the way he tasted.

His kiss would linger on your skin even after tonight because you knew that he was more than just a dream.

He was your reality.

Almost on cue, a strong arm draped across your waist and tugged you backwards.

“Morning,” Bucky yawned.

“Mm, morning. Want some breakfast?” You spot the time on your cell phone wedged onto the nightstand. “Or I guess brunch? I can make waffles.”

His fingers trailed the length of your body and you rolled over until his sturdy chest pressed to your front. “Waffles?” 

“Mmhm,” you nestled close. “Only if you want.”

Bucky refused to pull away. Every morsel of his being was tied to you, right here, right now. He smiled. “I do.”

“Perfect,” you grinned.

His pink tinted lips pressed against your temple as his vibranium arm tucked you under his body. Rolling over, he hovered above you. “I happen to make the best cup of coffee in Brooklyn.”

“Well, it just so happens that I love coffee.” You leaned into his embrace as his lips met your eager mouth.

Neither of you moved from bed.

And it was perfect.

-xx-

-xx-

a/n 2.0 | thanks for indulging in my chaos <3

[moongothic]

You think Crocodile's gonna blow his stack when he finds out how shitty Luffy's upbringing was? His baby boy repeatedly got tossed into the jungle to fend for himself against wild animals, as well as off cliffs and left to float into the fucking air on balloons all courtesy of Garp. He got left alone for long periods of time possibly as early as infancy, also cuz of Garp. And oh yeah, he was tortured by pirates, almost burned to death in a giant garbage fire, and went through the trauma of losing a brother.

Like, no matter how stern or distant of a parent Crocodile may be, I don't think he would be content to stand by and let any of that happen to baby Luffy. Also also, Crocodile witnessed firsthand Garp impeding Luffy's attempts to rescue Ace. The Cross Guild wants Garp for his bounty. Crocodile wants Garp for REVENGE.

With Garp I feel like it could go either way because like, let's be real for a second

This is 100% played for laughs.

Like if we're being serious then yes, in the Very Real World this is absolutely child neglect and abuse, Garp's parenting would NEVER fly (🥁) in our Very Real World. But just like Nami can physically abuse Luffy and co for laughts and get away with it, Garp's "training" is very much the same tonally, a Cartoon Slapstick Gag (made even more obvious when Toei animated Baby Luffy flying off into the sky going "UGYAAAAA" (that clip lives in my head rent free it's so funny??)) and a reflection of how this ridiculous old man (who might've been through even more ridiculous training in his childhood) views how a small child can be trained.

And so like. I could imagine Crocodile being like "who the fuck does that to a small child, are you insane" at Garp if he found out how Garp had been raising Luffy, but I think whatever reaction Crocodile might have would be played just as much for laughs as Garp's original comments were

Like IDK if Crocodile and Garp did have a relationship I think it would end up being similar to how Zoro and Sanji interact. Like Crocodile would to some degree be indebted to Garp because Garp did look after his son when he couldn't, and Garp wouldn't have a precious grandson (whom Garp sincerely does love, deeply) without Crocodile, so like. I think there could be like this mutual respect and gratitude for the other. But also it'd be kind of a begrudging gratitude and they would also hate each others guts and what they stand for and probably bicker. Lots. But in a funny way. (Like Zoro and Sanji)

Also I feel like even if Crocodile personally hated Garp's guts I don't think Crocodile would ever try anything to harm Garp. Like he saw how Luffy absolutely shattered after losing Ace, so even if Luffy and Garp's relationship wasn't the strongest, if Luffy loves his grandpappy then I don't think Crocodile would want to take his son's only grandfather, his family, away. Crocodile isn't in any kind of position to "take revenge" on the man who did look after his son for him (even if his methods were questionable at times) (Same for Dadan and the bandits too arguably)

The convenient thing of me letting this ask sit in my ask box for 20 days before actually responding is that I managed to post this thing the other day, and I want to continue an observation from that post; While I do agree Crocodile would probably be horrified to find out about all shit Luffy went through as a child... In the end, what's happened has happened, and I think Crocodile might believe that if he had wanted to ensure his son wouldn't have to go through things like that, then he should've raised the child himself. That Luffy's childhood not being all sunshine and rainbows is kind of his fault.

[spideycatt]

Pretty n' Pink || 42!M.M x BlackFem!Reader

Synopsis:

New school, new people, new relationships

Word Count: 1.8k (wow!)

Song Recs: Talk that Talk // TWICE, RUN2U // stayc, Big flirt // lil hero, Super Bass // Nicki Minaj, Into you // Ariana Grande

Warnings: Crude language, bullying (me projecting (≧◡≦)), Miles is an asshole for 1 second, BLACK reader, 80% angst 20% fluff

Not rlly warnings: Reader is small n chubby, making out, we’re gonna act like they don’t have to wear blazers all the time lol

Lmk if I missed something!!

A/N: I spent so long writing and editing it was insane. I've been writing since June 26 (*￣▽￣). Literally writing one day, rewriting the next, writing and rewriting, writing and rewriting. AND I'm still not sure if I'm fucking w/ the results... but I'ma still post it cuz mama aint raise no punk!!

Moving to a new school in the middle of the year is never easy for anyone. You cried while packing up, you cried on the ride to New York, you cried while unpacking, and cried on the way to your new school, Visions Academy. Saying you were scared was an understatement.. You only moved because your mom got a new job at some science place, but also because you were horribly bullied at your old school.

Everyone made fun of you for the way you dressed, pink hair-clips all over your colorful braids, hello kitty sweaters and fun makeup looks. You once wore some cute leg warmers to school, what happened to you that day made you vow to never wear them again.

You knew you wouldn't get made fun of every time you left the house, but man going to school made you want to cower in your house forever.

But alas, here you are putting your up hair with your favorite heart-shaped claw-clip. You sniffled lightly as you line your lips and put on your Fenty lip gloss. You wipe your tears away, careful not to mess up your lashes. Grabbing your light pink messenger bag, you sling it over your shoulder and walk out the front door, making your way to school.

The more you walk the faster your heart beats. You weren't as nervous as you were when you first moved here, but you were still feeling a little anxious as you walk onto school grounds. Sighing when you realize there was no time to set up your locker, you try to hype yourself up as make your way through the sea of students to get to your homeroom.

Luckily, the school required uniforms, so even if kids were to make fun of you it shouldn't be that bad. You only had some cute accessories here and there, and a white cardigan with hello kitty over your heart.

You weren't even halfway to the class when someone bumped into your shoulder, causing you to drop all the books you held in your hands. You take a deep breath looking at whoever this boy was, trying to calm yourself down.

'It's ok, it was probably just an accident. You're fine.'

"Watch it, pinkie pie!" He yelled behind him as he walked away, laughing with his goons following behind him. So much for an accident.

'"Wow, how original." You spoke to yourself, trying to ignore all the stares you were getting as you picked your stuff up.

You rush to your class, already wishing the school day was over. And just your luck, the bell rang signaling you were late.

You made it to class a few seconds later, drawing everyone's attention to you. You walk over to the teacher's desk with your head pointed down, speaking softly.

"Hi, I'm y/n I just transferred."

The teacher looked at you uninterestedly, before speaking loudly.

"Class, this is y/n from, Georgia? Was it? Doesn't matter, she needs time to adjust, so everyone be nice to the poor girl. You can go sit next to..." She trailed off, looking around for a place to seat you.

"Sit next to Miles. Miles raise your hand."

You looked up to see a boy with two long braids raise his hand in the back of the class, honestly looking quite bored. You nod as you scurry to the empty seat next to him, taking out a piece of paper and your favorite gel pen. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Miles staring at you.

"What?" You whisper at him, trying not to draw more attention to yourself.

He blinks at you. "You the girl who dropped her books earlier?"

"Does it happen a lot or something?" You scoff at him, drawing cute little doodles to match the lesson title.

"Nah, I guess that was a dumb question." He replied, looking forward.

"Why do you ask anyway? Trying to rub salt in the wound?" You argue, looking at your hello kitty-themed nails.

"Miles, y/n. Please." Your teacher interrupted, making the class snicker.

You hide your face in your hands, silently groaning before Miles slid a note your way.

'Sit with me at lunch?'

You glared at the paper, crumbling at and putting it to the side, giving your full attention to the lesson.

You made it through your first few weeks without any more bumps, and it was now a new month. Miles had become your only sorta-friend at this school, which you were grateful for. The boy was nice to you, unlike everyone else, who give you strange stares and whisper about you like you aren't there.

The calming melody of Apple Cider by Beabadoobee played softly in your headphones as you grab your lunch tray. Thanking the lunch lady before turning around to look for where you should sit today, you suddenly remember Miles had asked you to sit with him on your first day, in which you never did.

You start walking around, subtly looking around the cafeteria for the tall boy with long braids. You spot him quickly, watching him roll his eyes at something the boy in front of him said. Strolling to where he was, you bite back a smile when he turns around and notices you.

"What brings you over here, hm?." He smirked, standing up as you approach the table. You try to ignore how he towers over you.

"Well, I have nowhere else to sit." You shrug, looking at his friends who watch quietly. "Uh, hi.." You wave awkwardly, looking back up at Miles who smirked softly at you.

"You shy, chiquita?"

"Shut up."

His friends laugh, making you swallow thickly. 'Are they laughing at me?'

"Yo, pinkie!"

Someone shouted from the table, chuckling as you look up with fear in your eyes.

"Remember me you little cunt?"

It was the boy from your first day. You look up at Miles, silently pleading him to help you, and of course, he stayed quiet.

"Hey, I'm talking to you." You hear from beside Miles, the boy looked down at you with an angry expression. You didn't even realize he walked up to you.

"S-sorry." You whispered, looking at your pink converses.

"Yea you better be fucking sorry you fat freak." He said, pushing you into the ground, resulting in your lunch landing all over the floor. You try to stop the tears as everyone gasps and goes silent.

"Dude, chill." Miles finally speaks up.

You shake your head, "No Miles, it's fine. Have a good lunch." You say with a slight whimper to your voice, standing up to leave the cafeteria.

You sob, looking for somewhere to cool down, ignoring Miles calling your name.

"Pinkie! Wait!"

You steps falter, flinching at the nickname. You sigh deeply, wiping the tears off your face.

"What do you want, Miles."

"I'm sorry about him, he's been an asshole since like, 2nd grade." He huffed out, slowing down as he caught up to you.

You hummed.

"But you just sat there, so what does that make you?"

His silence answered for you.

"Right. This sucks, honestly, I thought we could've worked out." You say, walking off with a lump in your throat.

You kind of expected him to say something more, you don't know why, but you did. But all you were met with was silence.

You gasped as you feel Miles grab your hand and drag you into an empty classroom.

He closed the door harshly behind you guys, breathing heavy as he looked at your tear streaked face.

"What are you doing Miles— WOAh-" You stutter out as he hoists you up, putting your back against the door so you could be eye-level with him.

"Forgive me pretty girl.." He breathed out, rubbing your plush thighs with his thumbs.

"Miles, put me down."

"Nah ma I don't think I will."

"How... how do I know you won't hurt me..?" You whisper sadly, feeling the waterworks coming again.

"Trust me, I won't, baby." He moved to wipe away the tear that's fallen on your soft cheek, before moving in to lock lips with you.

You wanted to move away, you really did. But you trusted him for some reason, kissing back. The kiss got heated fast, you lock your legs together behind Miles as he pins you harder against the door, gripping your thighs harshly as he pulls away to speak.

"Let me treat you right, ma. Please. I'll take you out, I'll buy you anything you want. Let me protect you." He breathed out against your neck, making you sigh. You nod your head. Bringing his head up to connect lips again.

You sigh into his mouth as your tongues slide over one another, gripping onto his broad shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He turns around to place you on a desk. Hands roaming everywhere as he took your sweater off your body and unbutton your shirt a little to mouth at your collarbones. You let out a quiet noise as he moves back up to your lips, pushing you to lay on your back.

He caught both your wrists and wrapped one of his hands around them, pushing them onto your chest as his tongue seemed to move even deeper into your mouth. Man he was a good kisser.

You seperate with a string of saliva connecting your plump lips to his when the bell to go back to class rings. "Miles, lets go." You said as he places his head into your cleavage, sighing disappointedly at the fact that you guys had to go back to class.

He ended up buttoning up your shirt for you. Glancing at you every now and then to look at your swollen lips, smiling as he helped you off the desk and walked you to class.

You make it through the rest of the school day, smiling softly to yourself whenever you think of your heated moment with Miles.

You had Miles' hoodie on due to a giant stain on the side of your favorite sweater, playing with the strings as you write down some notes into your binder.

Everyone stared at you but you found yourself not caring anymore. Maybe you made the right choice.

You didn't expect to go to this new school and acquire a bodyguard for a boyfriend but here you were weeks later walking out of campus with Miles trailing behind you. You could've sworn you saw that one boy glaring at you from afar, but honestly, as long as Miles was with you there wasn't a problem.

"Hold on baby." Your boyfriend stopped you, kneeling on the ground to tie your shoelaces and fix your leg warmers. Honestly this was a whole new experience for you, never having this affection given to you by someone outside your family.

Miles pressed a kiss on your thigh as he finishes tying your shoes, standing up to fix the ribbon on your ponytail.

"Miles, you're acting like a mom right now." You say giggling, looking up at your boyfriend with heart eyes.

"Gotta make sure my baby lookin good." He replied quickly, leaning down to kiss your cheek. He pulled "C'mon, I saw a nice jean skirt I wanna see you in."

[yesloulou]

hello, i am a big fan of your gifs & am teaching myself to make my own! just wondering - when you want to make a gif that is one column wide (540px for tumblr) how do you keep them looking so crisp? i find that im struggling with landscape videos because they are so wide, i'd like a more square shaped gif but it ends up as a rectangle. if i try to size it down to a square the quality is skewed 🙃 hopefully this makes sense! xx

anon im so honored here is a little Gif Sharpening Tutorial !!!

this is the first gif making question ive ever gotten so unfortunately this will also be the first time i try to verbalize these gif making stuff. if there are things i haven't explained clearly please do follow up (my dm is open too!!)

the thing with wide (3:2, 16:9) gifs is that you normally obtain this kind of ratio by shrinking the clip (1920px width and up) down to 540px without any cutting, which is about 1/4 of it's original width that you'd end up with, which means you're losing 3/4 of the pixels in it's width, which is a LOT of details lost in the process, which is why we can't sharpen wide gifs the same way we sharpen square/squarer gifs, and i feel like we should talk about these two scenarios separately. (with square gifs, assuming we're working with 1080p, we'll cut it from 1920x1080 to 1080x1080 or less, and then shrink it down to 540px. this way we'd only lose less than half of the pixels. it's a lot less details we're losing here. as a result it's more tolerating towards sharpening techniques)

ok this is where i take a pause and ask myself when tf did i get so technical about moving picture making on tumblr dot com... ok let's keep going...

Basic Sharpening

soo how i normally sharpen my gifs (which are more often on the squarer side) is based on this awesome gif tutorial, the idea here is that we smart sharpen our gifs first, which will inevitably result in pixelation (over sharpening) to some extent, so then we use a semi transparent gaussian blurred layer to repair these pixelation and hopefully make it smooth and sharp. in addition to following this tutorial you'll also want to play around w the parameters (radius, transparency, sharpening amount, etc) as there is no one size fits all.

after following these steps, if i want to smooth things out even more, i'll use a layer of denoise (see below for setting i normally go with). if i want things even sharper, I will add another small amount of sharpening (again, see below). these two methods can be used together. imo they are what make a gif go from "omg it's crisp" to "i feel like im looking at daniel ricciardo in person what the fuck". the two gifs i attached at the beginning can hopefully showcase the difference <3

2. Sharpening Wide/Landscape Gifs

ok, at this point you've imported a 1920x1080px footage into ps and made it into a timeline, you've resized it to 540p and if you're using the gif tutorial above, you'll start off your sharpening process by doing a 500% 0.4px smart sharpen. after the basic gif making steps, this is gonna be the result:

it's pretty sharp, but it doesn't look as good as the ones at the beginning of this post. in this part we'll attempt to minimize this difference as much as possible.

first we take a closer look at how 'radius' in photoshop's smart sharpen works. to my understanding, radius is the width at which photoshop recognize an edge as "an edge that needs sharpened". in this example, you'll see that at 0.4px, the edges stand out the most, but the gif is not as crisp/fine as that of 0.3px (since a 0.4px edge is thicker than a 0.3 px edge). a 0.4px radius for this gif is what i'd say is over sharpened. on the other hand, if we go further down to 0.2px, the image is basically left unsharpened bc photoshop failed to recognize most of the edges this image contains (as they're mostly 0.3px and up)

so in the next step, we set the initial smart sharpen radius to 0.3px instead of 0.4px:

which is much better. but still doesn't solve the loss of detail problem as it's still pretty far away from top left. so then what i would do is that, when shrinking the image down from 1920px, i don't go to 540px directly. i will instead go to 1080px or 720px first, sharpen as i normally do to preserve as much detail as possible, then further downsize to 540px, and then add a small amount of sharpening to finish off. it'll look something like this:

720px w/ regular sharpening ⬇️

resize to 540px ⬇️

smart sharpen, amount: 90%, radius: 0.9px ⬇️

which will be the end result!!

this gives us way finer edges than what we started with (500% 0.4px) let me actually insert that one again ⬇️

however... (this is gonna be the last part i swear). even tho this is how i would do a 540px wide landscape gif, i feel like with 16:9 or similar ratio gifs, tumblr gif size limit is rarely a concern so why not leave the gifs at 720p so there isn't even additional detail loss to begin with. ik every gif tutorial is likely telling you to resize to 540p but, in a lot of the cases the less extremely you shrink down an image, the less detail you lose, the better it's gonna look on the screen. here is a comparison between the 720px gif (top) and the 540px gif (bottom) we ended up with where the 720px one looks a lot nicer (esp around the curls)

to sum up! with larger ratio/wide gifs, if the original video is of nice quality, i would stick to large sizes (720px and up) as much as i can. if that's not doable, i will sharpen the gifs at a larger size before shrinking it down to 540px so the details are better preserved.

---

Hope this is helpful! again ty for this ask and my ask box and dm are always open <3

[incarnateirony]

Interesting news out of the M&G Saturday, but I gotta say, it doesn't track with filming, original intent, or anything else and does seem like either if taken at flat value rather than reading thoroughly.

A) Misha is throwing something/lying/word tweak people missed

B) It's that whole extended direct reunion element even if Dean deals with his own bullshit

Particularly interesting since he DID make it to film. The TLDR is that people are implying he said he won't be in TW, that he and Jensen talked about it and "Jensen and I spoke in depth and we decided it wasn't time for Cas to come back". That it was intended with Jensen and they talked about it.

This, of course, if read DIRECT, is directly in contrast with Jensen outright saying "I'm bringing Castiel back" in another recent greet (iirc it was DC. Misha also told a fan he was coming back this year as well, a few weeks later). So it feels like there's either some miscommunication, or they changed some delivery angles when the script flexed for renewal, or misha is outright admitting they opted to bump Cas coming back into the next year plot rather than the tie-up finale.

The only way I can think OF this working in the structure, though, if it becomes Dean saying and facing his piece whether or not he's heard back (which is the point of finding the self, just like Cas didn't need to Hear It Back to find himself), and then stretching out the full recovery to the second season, which I believe is something I threw as an option on it, the great destiel reunion method. If people end S1 knowing Cas might still be out there and come back for S2 on the great destiel chase.

Which I believe I said was the antis' best hope--a direct stall on any reunion direct only to turn into the great lovers divided across worlds storyline. So you know. Enjoy that.

Like I said I've been flying blind on extension plans. Season 1's premise was simple: Dean, dead, finding peace, and putting away his inner monsters and addressing his repressed issues and had something to say and needed Cas. Learning from your parents etc. I SAW this as a potential flex but I can't say I'm comfortable believing it outright plain text. What does he mean Coming Back. Is that the same as Being In? Coming Back and Being In Are similar but not the same. He could be In the show without Coming Back in a means that is like, literally coming back. Because if Castiel Comes Back Now, then we end up with the deancas show for season 2 and the kids as a side, but that doesn't mean he has no presence there EG Roxy and so on. So I can see how it could be "Cas is in but not coming back yet, such as voices, small clips, astral breakthroughs, etc"

I know some people are gonna try to spin and twist and flip out and manipulate the fuck out of this and make it a damn big thing, but I really don't care. End of the road will always be the same. Catastrophize and squeal all you want after the post, but I'd rather inform people of the dialogue going around than brush it under a rug.

I always struggled, personally, with where the show could go if DeanCas got a reunion, since ironically the search for that is a huge point of the early premise. They wrote it for one season but if you get more seasons, the whole akrida-stiel setup kinda gets wonky to continue if he just ends up sitting shotgun with Dean. So frankly, I'm not even blinking at this statement.

[kingdarkstalker]

I don’t feel like rewording this so here’s my original post:

Wings of Fire’s third arc reads like Tui Sutherland is one of those (white) people who gets offended by people bringing up slavery and discussing how 1600s-1800s white slave owners and slavery endorsers are bad people who should know better, so wrote an entire arc of books on why racism and fascism aren’t caused by indoctrination, hate, and selfish people benefitting off of the oppression of others, but a fucking magic aliens plant and a couple people it’s puppeting, and and all the fascist, racist, sadistic, child-bullying, dictator-supporting, environment-destroying, slave-owning individuals who choose to engage in a system that oppressed and exploits others for their own personal gain aren’t that bad, but all the people who feel like it’s necessary to use violence to rise up and overthrow the oppressors that have been literally endangering their lives are very bad.

The tags mention that I’m a white person not attempting to speak on behalf of BIPOC people, but just pointing out that I see a white person being moronic and problematic.

Can you tell I’m mad the HiveWings frequently get more sympathy than the LeafWings? The LeafWings, the race who was almost wiped out, with half their remaining population resorting to violence out of desperation, get less sympathy than fascists. Like, I get they’re immediately racist to all HiveWings, but you can teach them to cut that out while still having consequences for the majority of the HiveWings that either directly participated in or allowed slavery because they benefit off of it, which the series doesn’t. Or wait until after they can stop fearing for their lives every day. And Sundew’s racism towards SilkWings are hardly a footnote because it’s all about the HiveWings, like they’re the victims here.

This is disgusting and I’ll forever be grateful I didn’t turn into one of these people. And yeah, Tui should fucking retire. ASAP. But she isn’t gonna do shit until the fans realise the shit she put in her books and call her out for it. What a lot of fans, particularly the younger ones, need to hear is just because someone is a nice person does not mean they are a good one; case in point, Tui is a foolish, wilfully ignorant, racist, aggressively victim-blaming abuse apologist who isn’t even that good of a writer when you look back on her books. Like, the whole “IceWings are tiger moms thing”.

I was reluctant to call this otherwise well-meaning woman a racist, but that video essay you recommended, revealing a legitimate clip of her confessing, humorously and without any sense of shame or regret, that she based most of the IceWings’ culture off of a fucking Asian stereotype, I felt horrified. That’s outright racist, whether she knows it’s a racist stereotype of Asian moms or not, aside from the she damn well SHOULD, she is a grown-ass woman with access to the internet. And the fact no one even showed any visible discomfort fustrared me. Too many people make excuses for this woman.

I’ve had enough, I’m pissed off, and it’s nice seeing I’m not the only one. I stg, without this blog, yourself, and the askers here, my mental health would be in shambles. I was a young child when I had to realise on my own how fucked this series was because I didn’t have any blog like this, I couldn’t find a soul in this fandom who called this out for years, and the wiki only made excuses for it like the fact they’ll disregard Tui’s word and make up their own ageing system to defend Glorybringer. Why is no one calling them out on this?

I am a split second away from making a Google Doc or Word Doc or something on the list of bullshit this woman has put in her series since no one else but a small handful of Tumblr users and a YouTuber feel like calling this out. Scholastic should be doing something for fuck sake! And this woman should NOT be writing childrens’ books, or making any kind of media, end of story.

👏👏👏👏👏👏

[teamgamble]

Team Gamble Shadow Pokemon Crisis Meeting

Judas slammed the side of the abandoned warehouse with the side of his forearm. “God fucking DAMMIT, why did they have to come back here out of all places!?” Laz wasn’t incorrect, the Orrish boy was extremely unhappy about this.  No wonder, Isaac thought, she wouldn’t be happy either if he was in their position.

All thirteen members of Team Gamble were in here.  Presumably once belonging to a small company, they had taken it as their own, decorating it with tables, lights, beanbags, and other amenities.  The shutters were rusted shut, but there was a way in only those who have been inside knew of.  Team Star actually used this as a base, once, before it grew so much Team Star required multiple separate large scale bases all over Paldea.  Perhaps that’s why they don’t do anything anymore, whereas with a smaller team it was easier to coordinate plans.

“I know this is a stressful time,” Isaac piped up, “but we need to keep our wits about us.  Team Snagem are scary for sure, but if they were beaten back once, people can do it again.” “They ain’t making it easy though,” Samson pointed out, sitting up in his beanbag chair.  “They’re skulking ‘round in the shadows and shit like that.  I mean, motherfuckers nabbed Pokemon from Larry just ‘cause he dared to eat lunch in a restaurant.  Snagem’s ain’t the sort to play fair.”

“So why should we?” Azazel grinned, leaning forward.  They were silent up to this point, silently petting their own Staraptor, Starlo.  “I mean, they’re probably gonna go straight for our ‘Mon in a battle, right?  What’s keeping us from joining the battle and breaking their kneecaps?” There was a tense aura around them.  They could see their own starter Pokemon getting injected in the shoulder blade and thrashing about instead of Larry’s Staraptor--something they boiled their blood.

“Violence isn’t always the answer, you know,�� Maggie said, but she was interrupted by her stepbrother. “No, no, they got a point,” Isaac said, standing up.  “We can’t have our Pokemon be the only ones fighting for innocent lives.  I think it’s time we also do our part.” He looked at Jacob.  “How good are we on money?  Because I doubt we can get self-defense weapons with League Points.” “Very very good!” the brunette boy clapped (and a “thanks to me” from his lighter haired twin which earned the latter a glare).  “We might have enough to arm everyone here!” “And I don’t need ‘em,” Samson spoke up.  “In fact, I could probably teach y’all a bit of how to wrestle a Pokemon.  Don’t Shadow Pokemon like going for the trainer anyway?”

Beth nodded.  “Yes, but no.  Isaac, may I?” Isaac nodded back at her, and Beth stood up and walked over to the used Smartboard Eden had managed to salvage a while back.  She pulled up a slide, which contained her research and clips from the videos the Team Snagem blog posted. “Shadow Pokemon being emotionless is in fact, mostly a myth.  It’s more like hatred and anger driving them forward, because a major part of the process involves trauma, along with whatever agent is being used to help close the door to their hearts.  I’d detail the process more, but, well...” Beth leaned forward on the nearby computer and pulled up two tabs on The Koiking’s Pond blog.  “Here’s a bit of reading, I think the owner behind this could explain it better than I do.” “But as for who Shadow Pokemon target...it’s less that they prefer opposing Trainers, and more that they’re indiscriminate,” Beth explained.  “Opposing Pokemon, opposing Trainers, even their allies and their own Trainer.  You can get them to focus their attacks, but it takes training.  You’re sacrificing effort ,the Pokemon’s own health, and others’ health for more power, essentially.”

Beth switched back over to the Groovyle Slide, showing some photos from Orre’s Snagem-Cipher crisis that came from before they were all even born. “Snagem at first got their Pokemon from Cipher, and they may have picked back up the reins, but they were the original makers of Snag Balls and Snag Machines.  Only an ex-Grunt managed to get the original model to turn them back on them, but I have reason to believe they may have newer and up to date models.  It’s in the name, after all.” Beth looked back at the others.  “In short, if we encounter a Snagem grunt and win, don’t just take their Pokemon.  Take every equipment they might have.  If they happen to have Snag Balls or a Snag Machine on them, we want them.  Then we can capture back the Pokemon they stole and turned into Shadow Pokemon.”

[thephantomhivefuckboi]

A little bit of an observation I've made.

Okay, so erm...This post is gonna be quite chaotic, but even so, a few of my posts already are in my opinion. But bear with me as much as you possibly can.

So...You know this dude, right?

it's Hugh Neutron--AKA Jimmy Neutron's Father. He seems like the quirky yet lovable duck-obsessed dad that's always giving his son advice, right? right?

But...What if I told you that this man is a fucking psychopath?

Now, I know what you're probably thinking. I may be taking this a bit seriously (which I'm not, I promise! I'm making this for shits and giggles) but allow for me to shed some light on one of Hugh's psychopathic tendencies. Do you remember this episode?:

This is the episode where Jimmy had invented a small time-remote, Hugh had asked to use it so that he'd be able to go back 2 minutes, but he accidently types in the numbers "2-0-0" , which sends Jimmy, Sheen, and Carl literally 200,000,000 years in the past. Jimmy, Carl, and Sheen then think about creating an invention to go back to their original timeline.

This was also the same episode that this clip is from:

Now, you heard exactly what these people said within this video clip, right? The one that stands out the most would be the woman crying explaining that Hugh allowed for her to experience the miracle of birth over and over again. Now, I did think this was quite funny at first, however, when I got the chance to fully let it sink in, that's when it had hit me... This man really forced this woman in labor with his son's invention, and watched as she gave birth. Not to mention that he kept rewinding time so that the baby would...go back inside her again so that she'd give birth again, like-💀 Not to mention that he had watched and saw everything, and perhaps numerous of people saw everything as well. And if it's something that I've realized that after the woman had explained what Hugh made her go through Sam (which is this dude:)

Says "Yeah, yeah, birth..." as though he knows what happened, but he doesn't wanna think about it. For all we know, Hugh probably made this poor woman give birth in front of everyone over and over again within Sams' Restaurant which would explain why he says: "He disgusted all my customers!" Because it disgusted him when he had to see this woman forced to give birth numerous of times. I'm guessing that all of the other things Hugh did that everyone else had explained were pretty bad, but forcing the poor woman to give birth was the final straw thus, is why the angry mob carried him all the way back to his house... And now that I'm realizing it...

WTF HAPPENED TO THIS WOMAN'S BABY?! After Hugh made her experience the miracle of birth over and over again, where tf did the damn baby go afterwards?? Did Hugh accidently send the baby to another timeline or dimension like he accidently did with Jimmy, and his friends??

Here's how I imagine it looking like:

Or perhaps he might've done either of the following:

1. He made it so that the woman would be pregnant with a child she already had years before.

2. Or allowed for her to birth a child she never even got to conceive yet.

The first one is by far the most disturbing in my opinion, for that poor kid/teenager/adult/? are probably gonna be as traumatized as the Mother, for they could have memories of that entire dilemma...This honestly just makes things a lot darker tbh 💀

So, at this very given hour...

This man is a menace to society. I rest my case.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

Hi! Just curious about your relationship to catcf. Which version did you see first, and stuff?

My first introduction to catcf was the 2005 movie, which I saw for the first time when I was around 4 years old (not in cinema, but later on a DVD we had borrowed from the library). It was an experience to say the least. A 4 year old is way too young to see that movie and I still, TO THIS DAY, have to flinch every time there is a closeup shot of Augustus in the pipe. Because that small 2 second clip startle me every time and I had to MEMORIZE when in the song it comes.

But, it impacted me a lot, cause I wanted to watch it again, and again, and again, and again... to the point that I couldn't forget it. As a 9 year old I had a phase where I wanted to learn everything there was about catcf. I read the book (and fun fact, there's two book translations in swedish, one older and one newer. I read the old version and all the names were completely different. Here's a post I made about it) and I learned about all of the lore, including the scrapped kids, original drafts, etc.

There is also a swedish tv adaptation of catcf (no joke) that's from the 80s, that they had re-runs of when I was a kid. It's essentially an old man reading from the book, and then they've illustrated pictures that they zoom in and out from, and occasionally they move.

Here's some screenshots.

What a cool job tbh, I wanna work as an illustrator for some kids show where they just read from a book and my only job is to illustrate the scenes (that, and... illustrate books lol). Also, this is probably the only adaptation that's been made where both parents of all the kids are present in the factory. If you wanna know which adaptation is the closest to the book, is this obscure swedish one who, granted, literally read out loud from the book, but still.

Either way, I know every single line in the swedish dub of the 05 movie. And I mean every single line, tell me a scene and I'll know the exact tone the characters have when they say the line. I also love the songs so much and the movie is very nostalgic for me.

Now, the 1971 movie. On the internet, people praised it like crazy. They said it was the best version. But I never got it, because I didn't properly watch it until I was like 10-11.

Now, what i've noticed, the best adaptation is often the one you see first. And many people saw the 1971 version first, apparently, cause it was very marketable on VHS'es and DVDs - even people my age who lives/lived in the US said they saw the 71 version first. But I didn't even know it existed until I saw a clip on youtube in middle school. And I recall people basically called "everyone who grew up with the 05 version is a lost generation" or something. As if there isn't something called "not growing up with something because I happened to not live in the country where it was more popular". If you're saying that, I'm gonna say you're a lost generation because you didn't grow up with any Astrid Lindgren film or any swedish kids media. So I guess, here's my "defense" for not growing up with it:

The 1971 movie actually didn't do very well when it originally came out. It wasn't until it got released on VHS in the 80s that it got more popular. And thus, I don't even think the movie got released in theatres in Sweden, as really the only non-swedish movies that came were the most popular.

My parents had no idea about this movie's existence either. Their only exposure to catcf growing up was the book and the swedish miniseries from the 80s.

I didn't fucking understand english until I was 8-9?? And even then it took some years to be fluent. Which means that, if I would watch this movie, it would need to be dubbed or an adult had to sit with me and translate (and for example, I did see The wizard of Oz as a kid, but that movie was never dubbed, so every time we saw it, my dad had to be with us and translate - which kinda took out the experience a little)

The 1971 movie does exist dubbed... but, they dubbed it much later. In the 80s and 90s, Sweden started dubbing a lot more. Before, we've only really dubbed disney films and cartoons in general, but dubbing live action was something that started to become more and more normal, especially with the release of VHS - so when the VHS came, Sweden started dubbing a lot of live action kids films, old and new, and release them for cheap cash. And the live action dubs from this time... well, let's just say they were much better once the 00s came, but beforehand it took a while to really do them good. The dub of the 1971 movie is from the 90s I think, and... it's hit and miss. Half of the kids are dubbed by adults and the rest by actual kids. The songs are extremely direct-translated. They didn't really care for the project. So, the movie essentially got released as a cheap VHS and wasn't really a movie I think they mass-produced, so it existed very few copies of it. Not to mention, they did release the dub on Netflix, but then they removed the movie from there after like a month?? Anyway, it could've been possible for me to see the movie as a kid (and I think all of us had a vhs/dvd of some obscure film, or just an obscure dub of a film), but due to the movie not really being known in Sweden, I think it was harder to even get a copy of it.

Anyway. Charlie and the chocolate factory is very dear to me. My favorite version is, and controversial opinion, the 05 version, as I never could enjoy the 1971 version as much.

[denjiholic]

love talk || gojo x reader NSFW

✎ request: suggestion: gojo breeding kink!

✎ warnings/tags: NSFW, explicit content, blowjobs, breeding kink, fingering, overstimulation, praise kink, porn watching, dom! gojo, teasing, voyeurism, light sub/dom, multiple orgasms, cockslapping

✎ pairing: gojo x fem reader

✎ summary: you and gojo watch a porno together and one thing leads to another :))

✎ word count: 2.2k

✎ a/n: sorry if some of you have seen me post this already, i was having a glitch with my tumblr the first time it uploaded, so i had to repost :)

“so what are we watching tonight?”

you look up to see gojo sitting lazily on the couch, one hand patting his empty lap. retiring to his nightly clothes, his chest is bare and his legs only clad in plaid pajama pants. you make your way to the sofa, taking a seat in his lap. he wastes no time wrapping his arms around you, letting out a contented sigh.

turning your head around slightly, you look at him skeptically, “what was that all about?”

he smiles.

“nothing, you just smell good.”

“well I did just shower.”

after you’ve turned back around to face the television he repeats his original question.

“what are we watching tonight?”

“surprise me.”

his eyes gleam with mischief. accepting your challenge, he replies, “alright then.”

he turns on the tv before pausing to say, “wait, close your eyes first.”

“why?”

“you said you wanted it to be a surprise, right? just trying to get the full effect.”

“whatever, weirdo”

shutting your eyes you wait impatiently. after a few moments, the sound of a woman loudly moaning greets your ears. lids snapping open, your eyes fly to the screen. the television displays a woman with a rather large chest, getting pounded by a muscular guy with an intricate tattoo sleeve.

gojo laughs from behind you, clearly amused at your reaction. turning around, you face him and see the smirk that adorns his face.

“what’s wrong? not surprised enough?”

“you’re such an ass”

glancing back at the screen you look again at the girl on the screen.

“are you not a fan of this type of film?”, he teases.

you sigh, “i’m not against it really, but i would like it if you picked something a little more tasteful. not just some 2 minute clip of some chesty girl getting her back blown out.”

“so picky”

after a few more searches he settles on a longer video. once he’s started it, he pulls you close to his chest, settling into the couch.

it starts as a standard porno, with very little yet messy foreplay, and the man taking sexual control over the woman. typical. nothing too exciting. yet for some reason, when watching such an explicit movie with gojo’s partially bare body pressed up behind you, heat slowly creeps up your neck. this was the first time you’d done something like this with him. you knew he obviously watched porn, he was a guy after all, but you’d never watched anything together. were you always this aware of the way his arms felt wrapped around you?

you shift your body, making him let out a small grunt.

“this getting you turned on?”, he whispers, careful to not talk over the audio.

“not really”

in all fairness, it wasn’t a lie. what was getting you turned on was him. not so much the movie. just his presence, and the fact that you are sitting in his lap, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

“no? we’ll have to do something about that then..”

he plants a soft kiss on the nape of your neck, and starts to let his hands wander. his fingers start to gently ghost the skin on your stomach from under your shirt. they’re cool in contrast to your warm skin. traveling higher until he’s gingerly caressing your chest, every movement is slow and meaningful, as if he’s feeling your body for the first time. a hand goes even further up your skin, while one goes back down to your abdomen.

the more he touches you, the harder it feels to breathe.

his fingers stroke your throat, not with the intent to squeeze harshly, but merely to just feel more of your skin. he tilts your chin back to rest on his shoulder, your head side by side with his own. by this time, you’re breathing heavier and having immense difficulty concentrating on the screen. his touch feels like euphoria, teasing almost every part of your body.

he’s obviously enjoying exploring you, as you can feel his erection against your ass. his fingers slowly slide further down your abdomen, making your breath hitch. he slowly slips a hand into your shorts.

instead of instantly going for your clit, he just keeps his palm near the waistband of your underwear. he effortlessly strokes your skin for a moment before finding his way to your sensitive spot. beginning to trace it softly, he forces a quiet moan to escape your lips, along with the catch of his breath from his own.

he slides a finger inside you, feeling your wetness on his skin. careful to tease you properly and take his time, he slips it in and out leisurely. once he’s got you breathing heavy, he pulls it out, and gently rubs on your clit once more with his dampened skin. your flesh feels unusually warm, every swipe of his fingers all over your body and pussy, sends your temperature rising. he wasn’t normally this gentle, and if he teases you anymore you might go insane.

“please.. go faster...”

“that’d be taking all the fun out of it then”

his low voice is close to your ear, and you can hear every breath he takes while he feels you up. just when it feels like you can’t take any more, he removes his hands from your shorts.

gojo shifts you from your previous spot in his lap, laying you down on your back. you lie supine on the couch for a moment, and he starts to spread your legs apart. he makes room for himself between your thighs, before one of his hands begins to tug at your waistband. it feels like your heart is about to hammer out of your chest as he slowly pulls down your shorts and damp underwear. he’s looking at you with kind and passionate eyes, a gaze that’s fully intent on seeing you fall apart to his touch.

you gasp when you feel his warm tongue meet your clit. he works it gently, licking up and down with mastery. instinctively, your hand grips a fistful of his white hair as the pleasure builds in your stomach and legs. when he begins to suck on your clit, you let out a whine. upon hearing your noise of satisfaction, he sucks harder, hoping to emit more content sounds out of you. you give in, moaning along with the woman on the tv. you’d been so caught up with gojo in between your legs, that you’d forgotten the porno was still playing.

to your surprise, you didn’t hate it.

hearing and watching the girl feel good alongside you, wasn’t totally awful. you’d watched your fair share of porn, and to be honest it didn’t do much for you, but something about him going down on you while something that vulgar played, made your sensations somehow feel stronger.

as you start to near climax, you gasp his name.

at this, he holds your hips down in place, making sure you feel your full pleasure. when you finally reach completion, he continues playing with your clit. upon being held down, you grip his hair tightly, your only support as you orgasm onto his tongue. as you pant and curse, he licks up your cum, sure to savor your taste and not leave anything left behind. after you’re finished, you feel soft kisses on your clit. he kisses his way up to your stomach, before moving up to leave small marks on your neck.

“gojo-”

“now I’m gonna need you to do something for me, pretty girl.”

you nod your head, your obedience making him smile.

he moves his body on top of yours so his torso hovers above your face. pulling his cock out of his boxers, he drags it across your lips.

“say ah”

opening your mouth, the first taste of his precum meets your tongue. he lets you take him into his mouth, holding his dick with one hand, and the television remote in the other. gojo turns up the volume before looking back down at you, your mouth full of cock. lips around his tip, you suck at him.

“that’s my good girl”

since you’re lying down, you allow him to gently thrust into your mouth. nothing too aggressive yet, but enough to make you want to gag on his length.

pushing further into your throat, he lovingly watches as the tears streak down the sides of your face. he gives you a reassuring smile, and wipes them away with his fingertips. perhaps to encourage you, he keeps muttering praise underneath his breath, constantly telling you how good of a job you’re doing for him.

he watches the tv from time to time, clearly enjoying watching the couple have sex while you blow him. no matter how much he looks at the screen, words of appreciation never fail to leave his lips.

“shit, just like that”

you swipe your tongue around his head and continue to take him in your mouth. he’s lost focus of the screen now, his body and mind taken over with the pleasure he's receiving. with a grunt, he finishes inside your mouth. he’s out of breath, but he looks satisfied.

once you’ve swallowed, he brings his lips to yours. his kiss is full of desire. desire for you, and desire to take your body and make it his. he plants kisses along your jaw and neck, and massages your chest from underneath your shirt.

“you’re really so beautiful, you know that?”, he whispers.

you hold his head close to yours, falling silent at the sudden compliment. he softly bites your neck before saying, “tonight, i plan on filling you up to the brim.”

“so no condom?”

he nods his head.

you smile, “what are you waiting for? fuck me and fill me up then”

he grins and kisses your forehead.

you squirm when he slides himself inside you, as he says softly, “i want to keep cumming inside you until I can’t feel anything anymore”

starting out slow, he begins thrusting his hips, moving in and out of your entrance. his sturdy body is on top of you, white hair falling in his face. he’s fucking you in missionary, something you’d usually chaste as being far too vanilla, but right now, seeing him above you seems to make the moment more intimate.

he occasionally kisses and bites at your neck, while you wrap your arms around his own. you pull at his hair while he fucks you, begging for him to keep going. You can feel the shake of your thighs as his hips dive in between your legs.

“gonna-” he mumbles, “fuck a baby in you”

you answer him with a plea, unable to form a sentence as he keeps bucking into your tight hole. feeling yourself grip around his length, your orgasm sends warmth and pleasure through your body, making you moan for him.

when he cums, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing hard. you can hear him let out curses as he’s overcome with his climax.

“Oh god, fuck”, he moans.

his mouth meets yours in a sloppy kiss, and he groans into your lips.

instead of stopping after one round, he continues to thrust into you, aiming to stay true to his statement of fucking you until you’re completely stuffed full of his seed. he pursues, making you orgasm repeatedly until you’re on the verge of tears.

“please cum inside me again... i need it so bad”

eyes shut and panting, he sends ropes of white into you once more, his body shaking slightly. he was clearly overstimulated, as were you, but he continues thrusting into your wet heat relentlessly. the tv audio is dull in comparison to the sounds of pleasure coming from the both of you, and the sound of his cock shoving into your leaking pussy over and over.

“feels.. so good”, he chokes out.

you watch him as he reaches completion once again, his expression one of lewdness and pure bliss. he lets out small gasps and groans as he comes inside you for the third time. his face glistens with sweat and his chest heaves.

exhausted, he slumps on top of you, trying to catch his breath. you play with his hair with your fingers, keeping his head next to your own.

he kisses your cheek whispering, “can we just stay like this for a while?”

nodding your head, you pull him closer, aware he’s still sheathed inside you. the movie was long over, and for a while you lay with him on your chest, feeling the rise and fall of his own. after a bit, he grows soft and slips out. he gets up to look down at your hole, watching the cum leaking from your entrance.

“as hot as that is, i think you might need to take another shower”

“wanna join me?”, you ask with a smile.

“fuck, don’t tempt me”

grinning, he asks, “was the movie tasteful enough for you?”

“i could barely pay attention”

“what a shame, i guess we’ll have to watch another one sometime”

“only if i get to pick it out”

he smiles, “it’s a deal”

[ellieswhoreeee]

The Two of Us. pt 3

Author’s Note; Hello everyone! Welcome back :) Thank you once again for reading The Two of Us, i’m so excited for he directing this will be heading. The ideas are flowing! Anyways, i think this story will be less then 10 chapters. There will be conflict- with some angst so be prepared! Enjoy!!

Endgame Pairing: Ellie Williams x fem! Reader

Warnings: Violence, marijuana, swearing, ect.

———————————————————————

“Wanna hear a joke?” Ellie asked after a couple of minutes of silence. You smiled, somehow feeling nostalgic. Ellie used to have this pun book that she would carry around when you two were younger and randomly tell you jokes.

It was refreshing.

“Alright, hit me.” You nodded, looking over at Ellie who was next to you. Ellie was on Shimmer, riding gracefully. She was looking straight ahead, almost as if she was avoiding eye contact with you.

But she wasn’t. If anything she was nervous.

Suddenly, she leaned over towards you- and smacked you over the head. She retreated back to where she originally was and smirked at you. The look on your face told her everything. “What? You said hit me, so i did. You’re welcome.”

Funny girl. Of course, you couldn’t even be mad or negative. You let out a small laugh. “Ellie, i’m pretty sure that wasn’t the joke.”

“How’d you figure?” With another look that you threw at her, she understood what it had meant. She thought about something for a moment, and then remembered what the joke was. “What did the grape say when it got crushed?”

“I don’t know, something with raisins?”

“What? No- you really suck at this,”

“Shut up and finish the joke.”

“Nothing, it just let out a little wine.”

“Ellie, god that was horrible.” You chuckled out, and continued to grip onto Gemini’s reins. At the moment you were passing a small town. You had no idea what the name was since the vegetation was covering all the signs, growing onto the buildings and overgrown as shit. Everything was so green and lush, but the way it was abandoned made it look scary.

Which made you even more cautious for infected.

“Oh yeah? Well, i’d like to hear one of your fabulous jokes.” Ellie’s voice rang through your ears. You looked over at her, somehow she was now ahead of you. You stared at the back of her head, looking at her long neck, her hair that was tied back and her slender shoulders. Ellie made you forget about the apocalypse.

“Sorry to break it to you but my speciality is pick up lines.” You answered with a smile. You finally looked away from her and your attention fell onto the graffiti on the buildings. But the moment you felt Ellie’s eyes on you, you looked back.

Ellie’s eyes were sparkling. You didn’t know what that look on her face meant, it was the first time you’ve seen her like this. “Really? Alright, i’d like to hear what your ex’s fell for.”

“Ellie, they don’t count since they’re not really ex’s.” You frowned, remember the people who you used to… Well, “hang out with”. There was a time in your life where you denied the feelings for Ellie. Where you thought it was a phase and that you were mistaking your feelings as something else. You thought the interest was you just wanting to be her close friend because god, Ellie was amazing. It took you some time and talking to some friends to realize what you felt was more than wanting to be a close friend.

“Doesn’t matter. I want a good pick up line!”

She seems fine with it, why wouldn’t she? It’s not like it’s something serious. You got this. Playful attitude and it’ll all be okay.

You nodded, and cleared your throat. You stopped Gemini from continuing to walk. You waited for Ellie to stop Shimmer, so she could actually look at you. And she did, she turned shimmer around so she could stare at you. You two were in the middle of the road, out in the open. “Can i borrow a kiss? I promise i’ll give it back.”

Ellie’s face flushed- it couldn’t be helped. That was a good pick up line, she couldn’t deny that. The way you said it, the way you were looking at her and… God, she was helpless. Wait- what was she thinking? She had a girlfriend back home! She swore to get over after realizing you couldn’t have liked her back!

“What? Was that not good enough? Well, i do have seasonal pick up lines. Like, If a kiss was a snowflake, I would send you a snowstorm.” And with that you sent her a small wink, and leaned closer to Gemini’s neck. The look on her face was… Different. You couldn’t really understand her.

“Y/n-“ There was a scream- multiple screams and clicks that brought you back from your little world with Ellie. You felt your stomach drop at the noise. Infected really are a pain in the ass.

“Infected,” You warned, looking around in the town where the sounds seem to be coming from. You noticed a broken window from a grocery store. It was dark, and there was small noises coming from in there. “I thought this area would be clear.”

“They like to wander, remember?” Ellie reminded you with a hard look on her face. You jumped off Gemini, and decided to tie him to an old bike post. “What are you doing?” She asked with a frown.

You pulled out your handgun from your holster, checking to see how much bullets you had in the clip before looking at her. “We have to clear this place, we are on patrol.”

“This isn’t the checkpoint, what are Danny and Axel gonna think when we don’t show up on time?”

“Then we should deal with this quickly. Come on,” You urged, walking towards the broken window and jumped in without hesitation. Ellie quickly followed behind you, trying to catch up.

You get pretty impatient when it comes to clearing areas. She’s not sure where it came from. You were more hostile around infected- with good reason too but it was to the point you would jump in even if it killed you. That’s how bad it was.

From where she was she could see you silently bringing down one of the runners. There was three clickers strolling around the registers while there was some more runners strolling the isles. 7 infected in total- well now six.

She followed your lead, and decided to take down some of the runners quietly. It was much easier than showering them with bullets that you needed. But just in case, you kept your gun close.

After a couple of minutes, you two finished and decided to look around in hopes of finding something good. Which was rare, but it was still worth a shot. You body lead you to the back of the store where a door caught your attention. With your left hand you attempted to open the door but of course it was locked.

“Come on, let’s get going now.” Ellie walked up to you, watching you as you kept your attention on the door. You looked up, finding the entrance of the vent open. Bingo.

“Ellie, give me a boost.” Ellie raised her eyebrows at you, and it seemed like all she wanted to do was leave. First, Ellie promised Joel she wouldn’t take the longer routes and that she would start off with groups patrols but here she is, doing the longer routes and doing paired patrols instead. She just hopes that Joel doesn’t find out. “I’ll just check in there and then we can leave. I promise.” You reasoned, giving her a convincing smile.

She sighed, and nodded. She couldn’t say no to you. She leaned against the wall, and got in position to give you a boost. With one foot you stepped into her hand and she hoisted you up. You climed straight into the vent and crawled into the locked room. The room was bigger than you expected. You thought it was a janitors room but it was actually an office. It was nicely put together for a room that has been locked for what you assumed was years. You were about to walk closer towards the large desk when you heard something, but the banging on the door distracted you.

“Y/n! Open the door already!”

You sighed, and moved towards the door. Just as you were about to unlock it, an ear piercing scream sent you into panic but you weren’t fast enough to react to the stalker who had grabbed you from behind. You were so close to its mouth that you could hear it’s teeth chattering in anticipation.

You struggled against its hold, trying everything in your power to get it the fuck off you because god, this thing was disgusting. “Get the fuck off of me!” You grunted, continuing to fight off against the thing but you don’t remember where you put your knife. You were barely holding the stalker back, but you grip on its neck was the only thing keeping you alive at the moment.

Two gunshot rang out, and the stalker dropped behind you. You fell to the ground, feeling the sick to your stomach. “Y/n! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Are you bitten!?” Ellie jumped down from the same vent that you came through, and kneeled down to you. She grabbed your face and continued to check for bites- or any signs of injuries.

You couldn’t look her in the eyes. “Shit.” You closed your eyes. “I’m loosing my shit.”

“Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the ground. She unlocked the door and lead you outside where the horses were waiting for you. Almost as sensing something was wrong, Gemini leaned into you once you were close enough.

“Hey, buddy. I’m okay.”

Ellie decided to let go of your hand. Your skin was warm and somehow she was comforted by that. But then she remembers that it probably meant more to her than it did to you. It always did.

She could never read you.

-

“What took you two so long?” Axel asked once you two made it to the dam. You two walked into the building, and straight to the watchtower. Ellie went straight to the couch while you walked towards the notebook and decided to report what had happened.

“Infected, we were clearing the an area and lost track of time.” You explained briskly. Axel nodded, noticing something was off but decided to say anything. Danny and Axel left after packing up.

You looked over at Ellie who was lounging around on the couch that was in another section of the room. She was writing something in her journal. You were curious as to what she was writing. “Watcha writing there, El?”

She didn’t look up and just continued to write. But she was smirking. “Only writing that i had to save your ass… Again.”

You groaned, hearing her laughing from her spot. “Watch it, William. I swear i’ll haunt you from beyond the grave.”

“You’ll never get the chance because i’ll always be there to save your ass.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, yay. My own personal prince charming. What’s next, saving me from an evil queen who placed a curse on me?”

“We’ll, it’s on my list.” She joked, finally finishing up whatever she was writing in her journal. She closed her journal and hides it back into her backpack. You decided to look into the other room, you were looking for something specific. After some scavenging you finally found it. A bong.

“Hey, El! Guess what i found!” You yelled from the other room. You looked at the beautiful glass piece in-front of you.

“Please tell me you won the lottery, i would kill for a cruise ticket!”

“Funny,” You walked into the room Ellie was in, and presented the bong to her. Ellie’s eyes widen.

“How’s you know that was here?”

“There’s always at least one at each checkpoint.” You replied swiftly, giving her a grin. “ Eugene is a very chartable man.” 

“We shouldn’t. Plus, we don’t have- wait, do you have some on you?”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small bag of bud. You smirked and tossed her the bag. “As i said, Eugene is very charitable.”

Ellie was awestruck. “Jesus, y/n. Since when did you become a pothead?”

You hummed. “That’s a really good question- i’m not going to answer though.”

“Aw come on! I literally tell you everything.” Ellie slightly pouting at the fact that you were withholding information from her.

“Come talk to me when you’re 18.” You responded with a smirk on you’re face.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Quit being a dick. You turned 18 a couple of months ago and don’t know how to act.”

“Shut up,” You walked over to her and sat on the opposite side of the same couch as her. You pulled out your bottle of water. “So, inside or outside?”

“Outside, obviously. Only one bowl, deal?”

“Deal.”

-

After many hours of waiting, you and Ellie were finally replaced at the dam checkpoint, so you two finished running your routes while riding back to Jackson. It started out rough but at the end of your shift you were feeling better. You had made it through the gates in one piece thanks to Ellie- and she made sure you didn’t forget it.

As soon as you made it to the stables you let out a relieved sigh. You started to stretch out your limbs. “It feels so good being back.” You let out a yawn, after you jumped off of Gemini. Ellie followed after you and stepped off of Shimmer. She grabbed Shimmer’s reins and held out her other hand towards you. You were confused on why she was doing that. “Uh… Is this one of your weird ways of telling me i’m awesome?”

“Psh, you wish. Give me his reins. I’ll bring him in.”

“You sure?” She nodded without any hesitation, so you handed her Gemini’s reins. “I’ll wait for you outside, maybe today’s the day we finish the flood arc.”

Ellie looked just as excited as you- maybe even more. “I’ll hold you to that.” She grinned, which made your heart beat faster. You turned on your heels and waited right outside the stables for her. You shouldn’t get too excited. She’s you’re best friend, your best friend who has a girlfriend. She doesn’t like me back. She doesn’t.

You felt like you were being watched so you looked around, finally finding as Cat walking over to you. She was taller than you and way more intimidating. “Uh, hey?”

She looked unimpressed. “Hey? That’s all you have to say after everything you’ve been doing?”

“Woah! What the hell are you talking about?” You had no idea what she was talking about. You didn’t do anything wrong, at least you don’t think you did. You wouldn’t do anything intentionally.

“Don’t pull that crap. I know you have feelings for Ellie.” She had said it a little too loud, and that’s what made you uncomfortable. You hated how open she was about everything- not everyone can be like that. It was one of the things you envied and hated about her.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Cat. Remember… before anything that Ellie is my best friend. So whatever the hell you think happened- didn’t!”

She scoffed, laughing bitterly. “Right. You expect me to believe that when you’re making Googly eyes at her all the time?”

“Cat! This isn’t the time or place to be talking about this. I’m serious.”

“Fine. Just admit that you have feelings for her and i’ll leave you alone.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms in an attempt to protect yourself from her glaring eyes. “Yeah, right. So you can kick my ass when you hear something you don’t want to hear? Why can’t you understand that what i’m feeling is one sided and that Ellie literally loves you! God, Cat. Couldn’t you have realized that instead of cornering me like this? I cant lie to you.”

“Y/n.”

You immediately recognized the voice, and you felt sick once again. You slowly turned around to face the girl who had been the cause for this altercation. She knows.

“Ellie…”

-

[neonponders]

I’m so sorry that I don’t remember who originally posted about Steve accidentally calling Billy, Daddy, and Billy - naturally - going feral for it.

But daydreaming about this helped me sleep so ~ enjoy! (If anyone knows the post I’m talking about, I’ll happily add a link to it in a reblog and the ao3 notes.)

Read on ao3 here.

Featuring reunion/aged up trope ~ (I didn’t really keep canon in mind for this, but if you want it to be post season 3, that’s fine.)

It’s a strange twilight zone, meeting someone again. Being complete strangers with a history.

Not the best history, either, so Steve just had to laugh to himself while he sat on Billy Hargrove’s couch. The guy looked up from the kitchen counter across the open floor plan. “What?”

And Steve might be internally combusting a bit-

A lot.

Because Billy’s hot. Like...Steve can actually appreciate it now. It’s not the first time he feels like a fool for being too slow. Billy was a looker in high school; easily one of the guys who completed puberty first and knew it. Made him an asshole for it. And people liked assholes.

Steve guessed he just didn’t do it right. Being the mean guy. But that was far behind them, now, and Billy’s late twenties were doing him favors.

Steve supposed if young, spry, Adonis Billy came with being a complete dick, then he could appreciatively leave him behind. Because Billy wasn’t a complete dick anymore. And the man strolling back across the room with a pair of whiskey sours was definitely, 100%, burning a hole through Steve’s jeans better than the show-off from high school ever did.

Steve reckoned Adonis never got laid nearly as much as Zeus or Poseidon anyway, which he only knew from Robin’s ramblings about her Greek theatre class. Steve earned a distinct wrinkling of her nose when he said, “Lettuce? Adonis is symbolized with lettuce? Yeah, no. Aphrodite, that cougar, fell for a twink while Daddy Poseidon was getting whoever he wanted with his beard and all.”

Robin had barked a laugh but chided, “Please don’t ever call Poseidon, “Daddy,” ever again. Oh my god.”

Joke’s on her, because now she referred to the gods and heroes by whatever name Steve gave them.

And the joke was on Steve. Because he was definitely the twink in this new situation he found himself in.

Billy had always been stacked. But the guy walking through the university gallery to make Steve’s heart stop beating in his chest was something else. He wasn’t even bigger, really. Something just...happened as soon as a person could see 30 closer than 20. Steve had first noticed it with Robin, because they spent the most time together. Obviously that crush had been snuffed out with her gentle coming-out to him years ago, but Steve still had eyes in his head. Robin aged really well. Steve had begun to wonder if he was aging nearly as gracefully.

Billy, that bastard, strolled right up to him with a freaking mustache of all things, invited them to lunch the next day - where he had switched to clean shaven - and now sat on his couch in his newly built apartment complex with a sweating, rattled Steve. He had neatly pulled him aside before the three of them parted the restaurant to invite Steve over for drinks that evening.

Steve was unprepared for the sculpted scruff on the man’s face now. He’d never seen a guy switch facial hair styles like he was changing shirts. Frankly, he didn’t know anybody who could just grow it that easily.

Steve gulped loudly around his whiskey sour.

It was Billy’s turn to laugh under his breath. “You okay? You never answered me.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a little out of breath. “I’m just...reeling, here. I think the last conversation we had involved a fist fight.”

Billy laughed again and Steve’s eyes trailed over the shirt fitting perfectly around his built shoulders. Maybe Billy is bigger. In like a...domestic sort of way. Like he still had all his muscle but didn’t throw a fit over a bowl of pasta. Steve is still taller. Steve still had that, at least, but he sure felt like his second puberty hadn’t graced him yet.

Billy was talking. Pay attention, Steve.

Something about Robin. Steve replied, and hoped he was answering close to whatever Billy had said, “Robin teaches there and some of her students were in the exhibition. It’s an art nerd thing. Everybody’s involved, even if it’s not your subject.”

Steve couldn’t tell if the pause was Billy processing or if Steve had been completely off the mark. Deflect. Reroute! his brain told him, so he asked, “Did we ever ask how you knew about the gallery?”

“Max goes to school there.”

“Oh,” Steve chirped bluntly. “Small world.”

Billy hummed a sound low in his chest. Something vibrated inside Steve and he closed his eyes in a hard blink, grasping at flimsy straws for composure. Billy finished, “I was in the area. Definitely a pleasant surprise to see your familiar face.”

“My Lego head?” Steve gestured vaguely at himself. “I guess this block always did stand out.”

Billy huffed a surprised sound, like he hadn’t expected that, but he let it tumble into easy laughter. “You look good. I never saw you with short hair.”

His fingers pushed the arching swoop of Steve’s fringe behind his ear. The briefest touch across his temple finishing on his neck...

I’m going to have a heart attack.

“Thanks. That goes for the both of us.”

Just like he almost missed never snatching a chance with high school Billy, Steve only kinda missed never getting his hands on that mullet. Only to know how soft that hair actually was. Not like Billy needed it, of course. Truly absurd, how he rocked any hair situation on his head that wasn’t shaped like a Lego person’s.

Steve finished his whiskey in the next gulp.

He could feel Billy’s laser blue eyes notice this, and then he stood from the couch. “I’m getting us some waters.”

“Okay,” Steve chimed dumbly. Feeling dumb.

Jesus Christ, it’s Scoops all over again. You suck. You suck-

“Poseidon liked a twink too, you nimrod,” Robin had teased back. “His name was Anteros.”

“And he dies too, right?”

“Nope. He’s basically Poseidon’s husband and chauffeur.”

“Aw. Good for Daddy P.”

Billy returned. “Are you one of these people who likes seltzers?”

Steve blindly took the can while his thoughts slammed mutinously into, Daddy B. B is kinda cute. Shorter-

“Thanks-

Billy.

-daddy.”

Steve opened the can before it sank in what he’d just said. Carbonation gently kissed his skin as he held the can to his lips but didn’t drink. Some may or may not have landed in his lap before he lowered it to see Billy’s unreadable face.

“Oh my god.” Steve rushed to place the can on the coffee table and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Did you...?”

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded, removing a hand as if to physically defend against the words in the air.

“Steve-”

His words came muffled from where he hid inside his hands. “Oh my god. I’m gonna throw up.”

He stood up - to go where, he didn’t really know. Probably best to just leave at this point. Way to choke. Way to absolutely choke, Harrington. You don’t even know if Billy’s bi and you just deep-dived into WEIRD-

“I’m really sorry,” he rushed as he stepped around the coffee table.

“Steve.” Billy gripped his arm and pulled right back onto the couch as if it were easy. Steve more than landed in his spot, he landed flush against Billy. His thigh felt Billy’s warmth, and his lips stayed parted to keep breathing when he realized how close their faces were. 

Billy this close was something else, and Steve didn’t have the brain power to navigate it.

“Say it again.”

So it took him a long minute to absorb that. Was he seeing stars? So much for breathing.

“Huh?”

Steve’s lashes sagged heavily over his eyes when Billy leaned tantalizingly close. Either of them could stick their tongues out and taste the other’s lips.

Don’t, he commanded his mutinous subconscious.

“Say it again, Steve.”

He wondered which was louder: his thunderous heart or the racket in his brain trying to turn rusty gears. He whispered against Billy’s skin, “I didn’t mean to say it.”

A hand, gentle but there, found Steve’s nape. “I’m telling you to say it on purpose.”

Was he making fun of him? Steve couldn’t tell. He hadn’t spent more than a handful of hours with him. But his voice made that thing in Steve’s body vibrate and his brain had officially declared itself a lost cause.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Steve closed the gap - tiny as it was - and involuntarily moaned at the softness of Billy’s lips. The hand on his nape tightened and another came to hold the front of his throat; not pressing against his windpipe, but Billy’s fingertips held Steve’s jaw in place and his palm surely felt the drumming of Steve’s heart.

Steve’s tongue couldn’t help itself. He touched the plush skin of Billy’s upper lip, ever so lightly-

Billy groaned, wanton and hungry as he pushed entirely into Steve’s personal space. The latter gasped at the sound, and then he really did see stars as Billy’s tongue fucked against his own. He tasted sour and sweet and the citrus mixed with Billy’s natural taste in such a way that Steve tilted his head for more, pushed right back into Billy’s space.

Steve’s body rotated enough that his knee bumped into Billy’s. Then Billy was gripping that joint hard enough to bruise so that he could pull Steve all the way around to straddle him. Steve clumsily climbed onto his lap, grateful for the influx of air as Billy planted wet kisses and pressed his tongue into Steve’s pulse. He didn’t really know what the boundaries were anymore. This was explosive and sudden and Steve sat, unsure, higher up on Billy’s thighs-

“Ahh!” he burst when Billy gripped his hips and yanked his pelvis flush against him. Steve’s moan clipped short into a small ache of pain. The way his jeans tightened with the stretch of his thighs crimped into his already throbbing erection.

Billy opened his jeans. Steve’s voice escaped with his gasp when the colder backs of his fingers touched his belly as he dipped into Steve’s underwear. He stood up on his knees to give Billy the room to free his erection, and Steve couldn’t help the moan that exhaled out of him when he sat back down, feeling Billy’s soft shirt against his red cockhead.

Steve shivered as Billy’s hands slid up and around his body, mapping out Steve’s topography and shoving his shirt as high as Steve’s collarbones. Steve felt like a lewd wet dream: an exposed, panting mess on Billy’s lap. His heart ricocheted around his ribs with the sharp tickle of stubble, and he whimpered as it scraped over his nipple and chest.

“Your shirt,” he heaved, knowing he was dripping precum. “Billy-”

“Call me what you did before.” He reached into the back of Steve’s jeans and gripped a handful of his ass that had Steve lurching forward and bucking into the softness of that shirt and tummy, the warmth of Billy’s body. Steve whined when Billy held him down, unable to move.

“Say it. Whatever you want. Just say it for me.”

Steve bought a little time by kissing him, hard. Hard enough to make Billy lie back into the couch, his head tilted up to moan into Steve’s mouth. Steve’s lips nuzzled the side of his lips and began an exploratory trail across Billy’s cheek and jaw, down to his throat.

“I just...wanna feel all of this on me. I wanna feel your beard so much I’ll still feel it tomorrow... Daddy.”

Steve’s voice pitched to the ceiling when a hand gripped his hair. Billy’s other hand released his ass cheek to push encouragingly on Steve’s lumbar the same time he drew Steve’s earlobe into his mouth. Steve gripped the couch upholstery behind Billy’s shoulders as he bucked against him, rutting like a teenager. Billy’s own jaw fell for his moan to escape when Steve’s ass and backs of his thighs moved over his own cock trapped in his pants.

Steve tried to slow down a little, to rub against him without making the fabric chaff. “Daddy, what do want?”

If he didn’t feel Billy’s heartbeat before, he sure as hell did now. Steve felt it against his hands as he sought to know the contours of Billy’s shoulders and chest. He watched Billy’s swallow through the gorgeous neck that lay open to him as Billy gazed up at him. One of his hands traced the gently twitching artery on the side. Steve began to pepper slow, audible kisses against his face. When he landed on Billy’s lips, Billy kissed back, and when he wandered all the way up to Billy’s temple, Billy let him. Only his hands moved sluggishly between Steve’s thighs and his waist, seeking skin underneath his shirt.

Steve came back down to whisper against Billy’s lips, “Daddy?”

It was a blur of movement punctuated by Steve’s surprised yelp of glee as Billy threw him onto his back on the couch. Billy kissed the laughter out of his flushed, red throat, growling in satisfaction at how those bubbles of mirth sank into breathy moans.

“I’ve wanted you for years, pretty boy.”

Steve’s brain didn’t absorb that so much as his body did. Pinballs of emotion and sensation darted to and from his groin. He lifted his leg to rest across the back of the couch and to give Billy access to whatever he wanted.

Strong hands moved carefully - fondly - over Steve’s thighs. A stuttering breath left him when Billy clutched the backs of his legs. A sweet ache to have the muscle squeezed there.

“Don’t hold back on me now, baby,” Billy taunted, pressing his hands into the couch on either side of Steve and aligning his bulge with Steve’s hole and undercarriage still inside his jeans. “Let me hear you.”

Steve’s other leg wrapped around him and he lifted his pelvis to grind against Billy’s front. Billy’s bravado melted into an anguished, blissed-out frown as he shut his eyes against the sensation. When he opened them, Steve held his cock in hand, pumping himself in time with his pelvis rolling up to meet Billy.

It was sloppy and desperate and Steve didn’t think he ever did this even as a teenager. It had all been a small town rush to get hands or mouths on skin and get rid of the stigmatizing V-card. Except when Steve was in love, and allowed to take his time...

Steve didn’t know if he was in love now. But as another wave of ticklish warmth darted through him, Steve laughed a little.

“What?” Billy asked, not unlike the first time.

“I just...I just like this, that’s all,” Steve admitted. “You feel good. You smell good. Ahh! I’m close.”

“Let me see you, baby. Let me taste the mess you make.”

That didn’t so much as nudge Steve off the cliff as it drop kicked him into his orgasm.

“Hahh! Daddy, I’m there! I’m there...”

The mind-halting knot of sensation burst inside him with a force that let Steve not even care that he craned his face toward the arm of the couch, moaning and splashing his hair over the upholstery like a romance novel cover.

He realized somewhere in the middle that Billy had grasped his cock and was the reason his climax kept going. Milking little dribbles of cum out of him. Steve hadn’t cum like this in years, and he lay riveted to Billy hastening his rhythm to chase his own cliff edge.

The furrowed brows of concentration on Billy’s face were wiped off by Steve gripping his shirt and yanking him down for Steve to taste him, to plunder his mouth and feel that soft material against his own bare, messy torso. 

Billy shuddered and pushed, pushed against Steve like he meant to bury his cockhead inside as he came. The visual sent an aching thrill into Steve’s core, knowing how Billy looked when he came and knowing that he’d cum inside. It made Steve eager to feel the pressure of his thrusts and the aftershocks when he pulled out to repeat it all again.

Steve had just cum like a seventeen year old and wanted to go all the way, with Billy’s hands all over his backside and his scruff against Steve’s ass cheeks-

Billy’s hand brushed over his hair and eased around to cradle his head. “What are you thinking behind those big eyes?”

Steve blinked drunkenly up at him even though it certainly wasn’t whiskey giving him this high. “My eyes?”

“Mmhm,” Billy hummed through lips pressing into a content smile. He hovered over his elbows, still framing Steve in but not crowding him. Fingertips pressed little swirls over his scalp, drifting around his ear. “I like your big, doe eyes.”

No one ever commented on his eyes. His hair, obviously. His butt. His shoulders. His moles. Billy gazed down at him, searching through Steve’s thoughts. The way he always had, really.

“Thinkin’ about you creaming me instead of your pants.”

Billy turned his head to the side so he didn’t laugh directly in Steve’s face. “Only if I’m not dreaming this time.”

This time.

God, Steve liked what that implied.

His arms came around Billy’s shoulders, loving the broadness and weight of the man on top of him. He kissed him softly, bumping his nose against Billy’s and eliciting a groan while Billy tilted his head and deepened the kiss.

“Again,” he begged through the kiss. “I want you again, Daddy.”

[lampmeeting]

D for Charles/Magnus, I for Magnus/Toki, L for Charles/Pickles, and F for Melm/JT.

eeehEHEHEHE DILF *rubs my little hands together* don't mind if i do~

D for Drunken Love Confession - Charles/Magnus

pre-klok. :') magnus has been chipping away at charles' resolve. there's just something about the bookish, put-together little chuck offdensen that makes magnus wanna break through all his defenses and see him come undone. he always did like a challenge. they have heated, passionate debates about the direction of the band. they get in each other's faces. magnus even kissed him once, but charles pushed him away, furious and blushing, and demanded he leave his office.

after six months of this weirdly charged back-and-forth they have, the band invites charles to come drinking with them to celebrate pickles' birthday. charles declines, concerned they're just inviting him to come because they want someone else to play designated driver. but magnus intervenes like "nah i'm driving tonight, promise. so go nuts." and charles seems to think it over... and eventually agrees.

so they all go out! at first charles seems to be pacing himself, but pickles gets shots, and it's all downhill from there. magnus, staying dutifully sober, watches the rest of the band + charles get sloppy and silly, not minding in the slightest the way charles leans against him a little in the booth and touches him when he laughs. he starts to regret not getting drunk himself, but he'd promised charles. it's enough just to see charles' mask slip, albeit not quite in the way magnus wanted. but he'll take it for now.

at the end of the night, magnus drops the band off at the apartment and then continues on to charles' place. he pulls up, and charles tries to get out of the car, but stumbles and falls. he's a lot more fucked up than magnus suspected. magnus helps him to the door, but charles seriously looks like he's about to black out, so he takes him inside, cleans him up a little, and puts him to bed (on his side, in the recovery position, he knows the drill). before he leaves, he can't help himself... he runs fingers through charles' sweaty hair and strokes his jaw. charles opens his eyes, seeming surprised that magnus is still there, and then... he smiles at him. a genuine smile. and as his eyes close again, he whispers something that freezes magnus in place.

"...mmfm...mmlove you..."

"...what?"

but charles is under again, and magnus leaves in a panic. charles doesn't, can't, have feeling for him. that's too much. magnus just wanted some fun, right? maybe get charles worked up enough for an angry fuck. but...love?

magnus can't sleep. the next time magnus sees charles, charles pulls him aside. "i apologize that you had to babysit me like that the other night. i can't exactly recall everything that happened, so if i said or did anything, ah...embarrassing, i'm very sorry."

so charles doesn't remember what he said. or he does and he's just trying to save face. magnus should be relieved about this, but for some reason his heart feels suddenly sore...

"oh, yeah, no...you were out like a light. don't worry about it."

--

I for "Idiots in Love" - Toki/Magnus

post-post-galaktikon. weirdly enough i'd probably write this from like nathan's pov or something. he's having everyone over to the house for some reason, maybe a holiday or his daughter's first birthday or something (her cool uncles wouldn't dream of missing it). this means..... rrugghhgh magnus is coming over. it's the first time he's interacted with magnus since pickles and charles' wedding, so maybe a good couple years, and he's not looking forward to it.

everyone arrives. toki and magnus are the last to show up, and nathan has to do a double-take because this is SO not magnus. half his hair is back in a ponytail, he's let his beard grow in some, and he's wearing a sweater?? and he's smiling? he genuinely seems happy to see nathan, gives him a hug, says a warm hello to abby.

over the course of the afternoon nathan has to keep looking at him and reminding himself that's magnus fucking hammersmith because he's just so... animated? friendly? he's sitting next to toki and they're holding hands, and when others are talking the two of them are making eyes at each other and cuddling and laughing at little things they seem to be sharing between themselves. they're being a couple of absolute goofballs together, and honestly it's a bit sickening to watch. is magnus just faking this?

at some point nathan excuses himself to the kitchen for something, and while he's in there he's joined by magnus, considerably more subdued.

"sorry, man, i just...i thought maybe we could talk for a sec."

so they talk. they catch up a little. nathan learns magnus has been hitting the therapy especially hard over the past year, making some meaningful strides. it's not an act, he's genuinely happier now. or at least trying to be.

"i mean, you know how it is, nate, right? doesn't abby make you wanna be better just because she exists and she loves you?"

okay, nathan can understand that. he still doesn't understand... them. but it really seems like magnus has turned a corner, which... good for him, he supposes. as long as he's treating toki well.

when they return to the party, nathan watches magnus sit back down with toki and give him a kiss like he'd been gone all month, and they giggle to themselves again. this time, it seems...all right.

--

L for "Love at First Sight" - Charles/Pickles

i'm gonna flip the script here!! i've already done the whole "charles sees pickles on stage and goes gaga for him" twice now... so i'd pull away from the 80s and do a fic where they actually did meet for the first time in the mid-90s when pickles was in dethklok.

so they've got their shitty original manager (the one from doomstar) still, and he's just not pulling his weight. he's managing a few other bands and his heart isn't in dethklok the way it used to be. pickles is worried they're stagnating, and when he learns that it's been magnus lately making sure they get booked, that's the last straw. they all come together, and they tell the dude to fuck off. but then this leaves them without a manager. magnus offers, but pickles has already been wary about how possessive magnus seems about the band recently, so when pickles says no the rest of them vote the same.

pickles blows through his old contacts looking to dig up some manager from his past who can either wants to manage dethklok or has connections to someone else. no dice. skwisgaar comes up with no one. magnus is still trying to campaign for himself. shit gets dire when somehow seth finds out dethklok is lacking management and leaves pickles a voicemail offering his "valuable fuckin' services". pickles blows his fucking top, swearing and screaming. "HOW HARD IS IT TO FIND ONE GUY CAPABLE OF MANAGING A FUCKIN' BAND??"

the doorbell rings, and pickles, still raging, throws it open.

"WHAT??"

"ahh!"

it's just... a dude. like a normal-ass dude. glasses. a nice dress shirt and slacks. nice hair. handsome. he's nervous as shit, but that almost makes him more handsome.

"i, ah...i-i was told that van on the street belongs to, ah...to someone here? i clipped the, ah, the bumper. just a little. but it's noticeable."

anger forgotten, pickles just... stares at him. are his eyes green or brown? and that jawline...

the man shifts his weight just a bit, peeking into the apartment with wide, curious eyes. "sorry, that, ah... that's quite the drum kit."

"huh?" pickles looks back at it and steps inside, and the man follows as if he's simply meant to be there. "oh, yeah, thanks. you play?"

"hardly. a small jazz kit in college for a friend's music project but it, ah, obviously didn't go anywhere." the man glances around and seems to realize that he's just waltzed inside. "right, ah, so about the van--" he pulls out his card. charles f. offdensen of finch & associates. an honest-to-god lawyer. huh. so he's a smart guy. good-looking to boot. knows a bit about music, apparently. and he's looking to make things right about hitting the van...

pickles smiles, hearts in his eyes. "ya like metal, charlie?"

--

F for "Fake Dating" - Melmord/Twinkletits

aaahahah... okay. so, this would be when melm is living with john as part of his continued therapy. a few months pass, and they've actually become good friends, melm thinks, not just therapist and patient. it's nice living there with john.

and then, john gets a call from his ex-wife, joy. she's in town, and she wants to come over for dinner one night before she leaves. the only thing is, she's got her new fiance in tow. she and john ended on pretty mutual terms, so there's really no bitterness there, but even so, john knows it's going to be an unpleasant evening. and then there's the question of what to do about melmord.

"you can just stuff me in a back room and pretend i don't exist. i'll be real quiet."

"absolutely not, you've been watching too many sitcoms."

"excuse you, that's jane eyre."

john just doesn't exactly know how to approach explaining melmord's presence in the house. because he knows joy, and joy will ask.

"tell her i'm a friend who needed a place to crash?"

"joy knows i don't do friends anymore."

ouch go melm's feelings.

"well, uh... you could just tell her the truth? that i'm your patient and i live with you?"

john pulls a face. "absolutely not."

in a flash of sitcom inspiration, melm snaps his fingers. "i got it! i'm your boyfriend! we'll pretend to date!"

"pretend to--?? mel, honey, no. okay? i understand you're trying to help, but--"

"but what? what's your brilliant idea, doc?"

cut to john introducing melmord to his ex-wife.

"and this is my... well, he's uh, my boyfriend actually. my boyfriend melmord."

melm is all smiles as he leans in and takes joy's hand. "please, just call me mel."

and then of course at the end of a long night, joy and her fiance leave, and john and melm pat each other on the back for a job well done. they really gave it their all, put on a convincing performance full of long embraces and doting glances and romantic touches. neither of them really want to talk about how easily it came to them, and how unwilling they both are to bring it to an end.

"well, uhh... good night, then." john chuckles. "darling."

"yeah, haha, sleep good, uh... sugarbear."

they laugh. they're standing in the hall laughing. they should really move apart from each other and go to their respective rooms if they're going to sleep, but they're not moving. and they're still laughing. and now melmord is touching john's shirt, fingering a button, and john has a hand on melm's hip...

"maybe," melm says quietly, "we can just pretend for, like... a little longer?"

[inmyarmswrappedin]

Im gonna pin a small part of skam's lost allure on Tarjei and the rest on NRK/remakes. For Tarjei's part, his character is credited for being a large part of the reason that skam found int'l success, but my dude wanted no parts of the fame/small celebrity that came with it. He stomped out that hype. As for NRK, in signing off on remakes that mostly cheapen the skam name, they fried the skam legacy. Disposable remakes that don't ever inspire/require a rewatch = the slow death of a fandom

Hi anon 🗿 I mean, I guess? This is such a weird ask. I don't doubt you feel this way, along with other people. I just don't think what appealed to you about Skam is what appealed to everyone.

First off, your ask appears to praise Tarjei for disappearing after Skam, but at the same time lowkey places responsibility upon him for Skam losing its ~allure. And tbh, the only thing that Tarjei has done differently is avoiding fan conventions. He has done many interviews, both print and video, and talked about Skam. He has gone to Pride events for Skam. He has participated in awareness campaigns for Skam (such as the pink elephant one). Hell, he made himself super available both during Skam and after, by participating in low budget stage plays like those of Antiteateret, which were very easy for moneyed stans to attend and then demand that he do stagedoor for. And if that weren't enough, his last year and a half of high school was turned into a meet and greet that he didn't sign up for. If he didn't attend fan cons so stans could get some residual evak dopamine hits, that doesn't mean he turned his back on his Skam fame and celebrity lmao. He seems very aware that he can afford to do whatever he wants because of Skam (not in terms of money because I’m pretty sure Skam didn’t pay that well, but in terms of industry cred and the roles offered to him).

Needless to say that, for me, fan conventions don't keep Skam's ~allure alive or are what appealed to me about Skam in the first place. Again, I don't doubt that people (many people even) are in it to continuously relive evak over and over, be it through Isak season remakes or through being in Henrik's vicinity at conventions or his mom's defunct restaurant.

As for the disposable remakes. First off, it's clear NRK did its best to protect the brand as much as it could. It required a number of things from the remake teams, such as compulsory research among local (to the remake country) teens. It's also pretty obvious (to me anyway) that one of the seasons had to be about a LGBTI main, another about a girl of color, and another touch on sexual assault. I'm pretty sure they'd have sold the show to many more countries if said countries could pass on one or more of these mains. There were reports that many more countries than ended up signing were interested in Skam. And tbh, if NRK didn't give two fucks about the Skam name like you suggest, if they were only in it for the money, then what stopped them from allowing every version to do an Even season, a lesbian Vilde season, a white gay Mahdi/Penetrator Chris/Jonas/background actor season, etc? I'm not going to say NRK hasn't signed off on some dodgy original season concepts, but lol idk about blaming NRK for the remake teams being incompetent.

As for rewatchability... eh. That's such a subjective aspect. For instance, Robbe's season is so boring and just badly made as far as I'm concerned, but some people think it's even better than Isak's season and certainly contains more shower scenes. People still rewatch Cris' season a ton, and I assume same goes for Lucas L's. @liburnapworld posted screenshots showing clips from Nora G's season reaching 10+ MILLION views. And I have personally rewatched Matteo's season more times than I care to mention. I would even rewatch what was out even while the season was still dropping. I also find that Skam Austin s2 is very rewatchable because you can see how the team was developing the side characters' future storylines in ways that most remake characters were probably not allowed to be developed. (Because the Austin contract had different clauses, like for instance Jo would've been allowed to have a season, and probably Kelsey as well.) Again, I don't doubt that many evak stans watched the s3 remakes (and only the s3 remakes, not the s1 and s2 remakes) once to relive the evak dopamine hit, but otherwise found them to be cheap and disposable. It just feels like that's not taking into account the people who showed up for Cris, Joana, Matteo, David, Lola, Shay, Jo, Fatou, Nora M, Nora G, Kieu My or Ava, and liked Eva, Noora, Isak and Sana well enough, or even A LOT, until these remake characters showed up.

[delfts-purple]

Saints Row Reboot Thoughts

So originally I had a massive ass post of my SR5 wish list sitting in my drafts but since that's now useless, gonna do this. For some context I have been playing since 06, when I was way to young and I fucking hated 4. Now lets go!

My Wants and not wants:

Reboot after SR2 or SRTT. No hate, SRTT was alright but it may be easier and better to reboot from SR2. I seriously do not want you to redo 1 and 2. They are very good games that can stand the test of time and deserve their place. I may be more pissed if you retcon 1 and 2 than I was at 4. Like I guess I could live with a remaster if it was a graphical and control scheme overhaul only. I do hear you young fans, we did have clunky controls back then but they were normal so I don't get put off by it.

It looks to be the case we are going back to the roots and my god are we overdue.

Lets talk clothing. Basically the entire clothing system from SR2, that is what I want pray for. It was peak customization that I have not had another game match.

BIG PHAT GOLD CHAINS PLEZ. I know its probably not fashionable anymore but hot damn it looks so good.

Body slider/Gender slider (idk what to call it) from SR2. Not only is it great for our Trans homies. It was just a great, nah, amazing tool. Really before its time.

Please, make it so I don't have to be a body builder. Like skinny Bosses need more love. My boy Ty was always skinny till 3 and 4 forced him to be bulky. Skinny boys need love tooo!!!!

Honestly like a hybrid of the character builder from 2 and 3 would work. The color, make up and feature diversity of SR3. Paired with the fine tuning of SR2. Its just like chefs kiss.

Custom walking styles, I always loved that my and my friends boss not walk alike.

Two tone hair again maybe? I just think its neat.

Honestly just all the fucking activities from SR2 and SR1. I loved them all, well except Heli assault but people liked that to so let them have it.

Tagging, please, I love tagging.

GOLD/PLATNUIM WEPON UNLOCKS! So gangster like hot damn.

BOOZE AND DRUGS! Like I have had 100s of hours of fun fucking about with that. Like if we had the variety of SR1 in booze and drugs, I would die and got to heaven.

I mean if you can find a way to not make romancing a bastardization I guess you can keep it.

JUST DON'T! Don't bastardize that charaters.

Can we maybe have back some of that grit? Like SR2 was a prefect balance of grit and humour. SRTT felt like I was a toddler been mollycoddled by shallow humour. Not enough grit and felt like it was wrote by a 10th grader tbh.

Make the Boss... them again. Like non of this 'he hu puckish rouge' shit. I don't play a gang game to be a fucking hero. I know, shock, horror. I play it to be a sociopathic bastard. I got 100 fucking games where I am the good guy, sometimes ya boi needs a break. A evil, going to hell for this, I do question my mental status when I laugh at this, break.

Mission and cut scene replay. One of the reason SR1 and 2 save files can rack up into the 1000s of hours for me is this feature. If I want to play one mission, I don't have to replay the whole game. I can give in to whims. I do not have a word for it in English but it is maximum happiness with fun.

More cut scenes. Like there felt like there was less of them in 3 and 4.

Idle animations. My Boss just been like 'yep, Delfts gone, time to go fishing or drinking or smoking' was just great.

Look Gat was never some weird immortal, unbeatable guy until you made him that way in 4 onwards. He was the kinda hot headed, asshole, who got him self into trouble over it, guy who we adored. Bring my boi back.

A photo mode. I mean I got very, very good at cropping screenshots and clipping my camera of walls but, my Boss deserves better! He his my handsome little killer and people need to know that.

MKUltra elevator nightmare shopping/wardrobe/garage screens, you know the ones, fucking scrap them. Go back to how it was in 1 and 2. I do not need to be subjected to CIA brutality while playing SR. I got enough of that thanks.

Keep the phone menu, that shit was tight. Real immersed me and I love seeing the Bosses phone. I mean I have bought and made replicas of them ffs.

Make hazel eyes behave like the did in the remaster. Like damn. Just. I have a whole post on this shit thats how good it was.

I know you guys are good for it but keep them fun af cheats. I spent to long as a massive af beating up super small people as it rained corpses. Oh and the gravity was gone.

Don't have dual wielding as a fucking upgrade. My Boss just dual wields, let him, like you did in 2.

Weapon skins, like in SR4, that was alright. I wouldn't mind that one.

Keep the Bosses back story vague still. I haven't wrote and perfected his back story over the last decade or more so you can piss on it.

Jackets and hoodie, stop the putting my hair in a ponytail. Last time I put on a fucking track jacket I didn't have to tie my hair back, It didn't happen in 2 so why 3 and 4?

Respect and Missions. Can we either have a return to the old style respect system to make people play the side missions or just not make people play them by force. I fucking hate Heli assault and all that flying shit, so been forced to do it made me want rip my hair out. Like if they are there people will play the ones they want, I do not want to be made to do it by the main story. THX

Bring back the day/night cycle. I could play for much longer when it wasn't so monotone. Also it made me think about what I was doing when. Like I wouldn't got to the night club at 10am.

Bring back Nightclubs. Tyde want's to party and so does Delfts.

Stop making the character hollow 2D’s of their former selves.

A varied city, like Stilwater. Seriously, feels like a real city and I have lived or worked in over 6 in my life so I know. Steelport felt like what some Vatnik Babushka (Boomer Grandma) in rural Siberia would describe the city, dull and unrealistic.

Have the gangs act like actual gangs. You know, go around doing crime and harassing NPCs like they did in 1 and 2.

NPCs, make them like you did in SR2. They acted like real people, did the most random and weird shit. Felt real. They also all look different or their was such a wide variety in base models I didn’t notice repetition. SRTT and SRIV they were like 5 NPCs. I had occasions where there was 10 of the same model and I was like, two or three is okay but fucking 10?

Make them drive the way they did in 1 and 2 too. I have drove in a city for a long time and that shit was so real. People are dumb sometimes.

Bring back Freckle Bitches!!!!!!

If I think of anything else I will add it but feel free to add your own and disagree with me. I kinda want to here how all you others be feeling about this. I feel fear and happy. Also can you tell I blasted this out at like 4am.

[yikesharringrove]

I’ve just always loved the idea of Billy and Steve being chilhood best friends since they were litte kids and then slowly as they get older they’d start to like each other. So, what about them having their first time with each other? Billy slowly fucking Steve while they’re both so new to all of it and in a way it’s very tender.

Steve met Billy at the park when he was six.

Billy was only five, was new to Hawkins with his dad and his brand new baby sister.

Steve liked his curly hair.

Billy liked Steve’s brown eyes.

They had been inseparable since.

Steve came over for lots of play dates when his parents were out of town and his nannies didn’t mind dropping him off at the little house on Cherry Road.

He and Billy would run around in the backyard, would jump in puddles and stomp through mud. They would help Mrs. Hargrove with dinner and clumsily set the table with chubby hands.

And then Steve’s nanny would whisk him away and Billy’s father would berate him for whatever he did wrong that day.

But the two boys were joined at the hip, spent as much time as possible together.

They knew one another inside and out.

Steve was the first person to tell Billy that he loved him.

Billy was the first person to tell Steve that he loved him.

And they shared everything. Their clothes were so intermingled that neither knew which t-shirt originally belonged to whom.

They told each other everything.

-

“Don’t you think that Stacey’s totally hot now?” They were fourteen, laying on their stomachs on Steve’s bed, talking through the first day of high school.

“I don’t know. Wasn’t really looking.” Because Billy only ever had eyes for Steve, had since he was five.

“She’s got boobs now.” And Steve had only come into his own. His braces had come off two summers ago, and he was beginning to fill out, probably had one last growth spurt left in him.

“I didn’t notice.” Billy was trying as hard as he could to keep off the baby weight he had finally shed this summer. He was going out for the high school basketball team, was heartbroken when Steve decided he was going to go for swimming, since he already swam for the Hawkins Comp. team.

“You never notice girls.” And Steve said it so nonchalant, like it was just a plain old fact. Billy supposes it is.

“I notice boys, though.” Billy’s voice was small.

He knew he could trust Steve, but his heart was still thundering as Steve flicked the page of last year’s yearbook. What if Steve turned? Called him disgusting like his dad does and told him to get out of his house.

“Yeah, me too.”

So they shared the same shameful secret.

It was only fitting.

-

“What do you think sex is like?” They were sixteen, sitting in the front seat of Steve’s brand-new BMW. The old Camaro Billy bought much too cheap and had been fixing for the past year and a half was so damn close to being finished.

Sometimes Billy got jealous. Steve had fucking everything. He didn’t have to buy a junked car and fix it up just so he can have some transportation. He doesn’t have to clip coupons with his step-mom just so they can afford some dish soap.

But Steve didn’t ask for any of this. It’s just what he was born into. And he shared it with Billy, no qualms about it.

“I mean, like jacking off. But better, I think.”

“I guess that would be pretty good.”

“I don’t know. I kinda just wanna get the first time over with. I feel like there’s too much pressure for it to be this magical thing you’ll fondly look back on for the rest of time.” Billy took a drag of his cigarette. Steve stole it from him as he was blowing the smoke out the window.

“I hope mine is.” Billy rolled his eyes. He knew Steve was a hopeless romantic, always had been. “I hope it’s with someone that I care about, and that cares about me, and even if we break up or something, I’ll always think about my first time and feel good.”

Billy took back the cigarette.

He had an idea. Didn’t know if he could broach it to Steve, didn’t know if Steve would take it well.

He had thought about fucking Steve plenty of times.

He had swiped enough gay skin mags from truck stops outside of town to know what to guys got up to together.

And he knew that Steve’s eyes were big, and his legs were long, and his heart was kind. And he knew that he was in love with Steve. He’s known that since he was a little boy.

He blew out the smoke, locking his jaw. Didn’t want to ask.

“Um, hear me out.” Steve wasn’t looking at him, focused on the windshield. “What if, what if we, um, did it.”

Steve was staring at his hands, fidgeting with the steering wheel.

“Wait, like, you and I have sex?” Steve shrugged.

“I mean, best of both worlds. Like, you can just kinda get it over with, and I can have something nice with someone, someone that cares about me.” He got quieter with every word.

“So you, you think we should fuck?”

“Just forget it. It was dumb.”

“I mean, I was thinking the same thing.” Steve’s head snapped to look at him, dark eyes searching his face.

“Really?” Billy shifted in his seat, trying to open his posture.

“It makes sense. Plus, I mean, I know I said I wanted to get it over with, but at least I’ll never regret it, you know? Plus like, I can make it real special for you. Candles, and Michael Bolton. All of it.” Steve had red patches on his cheeks, looking past Billy out the window.  “What do you say?”

“Um, yeah.”

-

Steve didn’t know what gay sex was like.

He had pawed through a few of Billy’s nudie mags, had seen naked men enough to know that he wanted, had seen Billy naked enough to know that he really wanted.

He drove out the city, shoved a hat low over his brow as he walked into the store.

He bought a few different films, watched them that night with his hand on his cock.

He thought about fingering himself, getting used to the stretch of something inside him, but then he thought about Billy’s fingers, thought about how thick they are, thought about Billy stretching him open, and he blew his load.

-

Steve had told him he didn’t want to know what Billy was planning, and he especially didn’t want to know when he was planning it.

Billy had pulled out all the stops.

Well, as many stops he could pull out on a limited budget.

He bought lots of nice candles, and put a lot of ideas into music.

He picked a random Saturday, when he knew Steve was at swim practice to get everything set up.

He toyed around with taking him in Steve’s parents room, but didn’t want to give Steve any reason to be uncomfortable.

He had made a mix tape, songs that he knew would make Steve all sappy and gooey. He lit the candles, put lube and a few condoms on the nightstand.

He was a little jittery.

Steve had told him that he wanted to be the one taking, that he had come to really love the idea of Billy fucking him.

Which, Billy was fine with, had been hoping for.

He had whacked off that morning, figured he wouldn’t last long once he got inside Steve.

He was getting hard just at the idea.

He heard Steve’s car out front.

He sat on the end of the bed, didn’t want to pull some awful pose.

Steve’s eyes were wide when he opened the door, hair still wet from his post-practice shower.

He dropped his bag.

He was on Billy in a second, straddling his lap, sinking both hands into his hair.

“You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Billy pushed forward, connecting their lips.

Steve sighed into him, melting into Billy.

Billy brought his hands up Steve’s frame, feeling up his back from his hips.

He laid back, Steve pulling Steve on top of him.

They made out for a little while, just taking it slow, easing each other into it.

And then Steve ground his hips down, and they both gasped, breaking their kiss to look at one another.

Billy rolled them over, Steve’s eyes were wide as Billy settled on top of him.

“You want this?”

“Yeah, I want this. Want you.”

Billy pressed his hands under Steve’s shirt, pulling it over his head, tossing it on the floor.

Steve scrambled to get Billy’s shirt off as well, feeling down his chest. 

He squeezed at the bulge in Billy’s jeans.

“I wanna blow you.” Billy fucking moaned at Steve’s voice.

“Yeah, Baby. Go for it.” He rolled off him, sitting against the headboard.

Steve sat on his knees between Billy’s legs, undoing his belt slowly.

His hands were shaking a bit as he pulled the zipper down, reached inside and pulled out Billy’s cock.

He stared at it for a second, and then bent forward, sucking the head into his mouth.

He thought about what he saw the pornstars do, licking up the length of Billy’s dick.

Billy sighed above him as he took him into his mouth, pressing down as far as he could.

He buried his nose in the soft pubic hairs at the base of him, the head of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his throat.

“Holy shit, Stevie.” Steve pulled off, jerking his spit-slicked cock.

“What?” He sank back down, taking all of Billy, bobbing his head.

“Oh my, God.” Billy was stuttering. “I thought deepthroating was supposed to be-ah-hard.” Steve pulled off him again.

“I don’t really have a gag reflex.” Billy rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, ‘course you don’t.” Steve just shrugged, kept going.

Billy was gonna lose his shit.

Steve gave head like a goddamn pornstar, like he’d been doing it for years.

He set a sloppy pace, swiping his tongue along the underside of his cock.

“Stevie, Baby pull off.” Steve pulled off him with a frankly obscene slurping noise. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” Steve smiled coyly at him. “Yeah, yeah. You did a good job. Whatever.”

Steve laughed at him, started tugging Billy’s jeans down and off.

“I mean, didn’t really take you for a minute man, Bill.” Billy kicked off his jeans, slamming Steve back to the bed.

Steve yelped as he roughly pulled off his shorts.

“Let’s see how cock sure you get.” He reached for the lube, pouring some out onto his fingers.

He pressed Steve’s legs open, taking a look at his hole.

He pressed one finger against him, just rubbing small circles.

He pushed his finger inside.

Steve gasped sharply as Billy teased his finger, pressing in slowly.

“You ever finger yourself?”

“Thought about it, but, but wanted you.” Billy pumped his finger in and out.

Steve breathed deeply, relaxing into it.

“You okay?” He smiled lazily at Billy, nodding slowly. “What’s it feel like?”

“Honestly, doesn’t feel like much.”

“You think you can take another?”

“Yeah.” Billy pulled his finger out, began prodding at him with two.

Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Okay, yeah, now I’m feelin’ it.”

“Good?”

“It’s just, it’s a lot.”

“You want me to slow down?” He was still drilling his fingers in and out of Steve, and gave an experimental curl.

Steve arched off the bed, inhaling sharply. He went limp again, Billy watching with wide eyes.

“Whatever the fuck you did, do that shit again.” Billy barked a laugh, started curling his fingers, making Steve moaning loudly, and fucking writhe below him.

And then Steve went rigid, his thighs trembling, cumming all over himself.

He was breathing heavy as he opened his eyes, looking back at Billy.

“Who’s the minute man now?” Steve lazily slapped at him. “For real though, that was hot. Didn’t know you could cum like that.”

“Yeah, me neither, or I woulda stopped you.” Billy was suddenly aware he stil had two fingers in Steve.

“So you want me to stop, or?” Steve shook his head.

“I’ll be good in a minute or two. Just keep, you know.” He waved a hand at Billy’s arm, his face flushing. Billy smirked at him.

“Just keep what, Doll?” The more embarrassed Steve got, the more Billy wanted him to say it. “I don’t know what you want.” Steve whined.

“Keep, like, keep fingering me.” Steve wasn’t looking at him, his cheeks red.

Billy took out his fingers, pushing three in at once.

He rubbed up and down Steve’s chest, could feel him tensing against the intrusion.

“Breathe, Stevie.” He closed his eyes again, visibly relaxing.

Billy fucked him with his fingers, moved slowly in and out of him.

He spread his fingers, making room for himself.

He took his time, loved sitting here making Steve feel good.

He was starting to get hard again, bucking his hips to fuck himself on Billy’s fingers.

“I’m ready, Bill.”

Billy pulled his fingers out, lubing up his cock. He wanted to feel Steve, knew they were both clean anyway, didn’t wanna bother with a condom.

He scoot on his knees closer to Steve’s body, lining himself up.

“You ready?” Steve wrapped his arms around Billy’s neck, pulling him closer to him.

“Want you.”

So Billy pushed his way in.

It was like Heaven, sinking into Steve.

His body was so hot, tight and perfect around him. He slumped on top of Steve, lazily kissing his neck.

Steve was holding onto him, started tapping his shoulder.

“Move, Bill. Fuck me.”

He pulled his hips back, pushing back in slowly.

“Oh my God.” Steve felt like he was being split open, his mind short-circulating at the feeling of Billy on top of him, all around him, inside of him.

Billy lost himself in the slick slid of his cock, the perfect heat of Steve around him.

“Feel so fucking good.” Billy’s mouth was right against Steve’s ear.

Steve was completely hard again, his dick caught between their stomachs.

“God, Billy.” Billy pushed up on his elbows to look at Steve’s face, still moving slow.

Steve wrapped his leg’s around Billy’s waist, pulling him close. Billy picked up his pace a little bit, bucking his hips a little harder, a little faster.

He was toeing the edge, felt like he could cum for the past half hour.

“Love the way you feel.” Steve was babbling, his eyes hazy. “Love you.”

Billy bucked his hips, and came deep inside Steve.

He buried his face in Steve’s neck, embarrassed that Steve saying he loves him made him cum.

And then he thought about it more, realized Steve had just said he fucking loves him.

“Wait, hold on.” He pushed back up to look at Steve. “Did you, did you mean that?” Steve looked to his right, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.

But his cheeks were red, and his bottom lip trembled just so, and Billy knew.

“I love you too, Stevie.” He reached down to tug on Steve’s cock, jerk him quickly.

Steve’s eyes went wide as Billy touched him, his hips bucking into his hand.

“Wanna watch you fall apart again. So pretty when you cum. Lemme see it.” Steve was panting, his body going tight.

His eyes screwed up as he came for a second time, his chest heaving.

Billy flopped next to him, pulling Steve into his side.

He brushed his fingers down Steve’s back.

“How you feelin’?” Steve hummed into his chest.

“Real good.”

“And um, about what you said-”

“Bill, just leave it. It’s fine.” His back was stiff, his shoulders rising to his ears.

“No, but I-”

“It’s fine.”

“I meant it when I said it back. Meant it the same way you meant it.” Steve looked up at him, his hair all wild.

“You serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Steve smiled, all big and so pretty, burying his face in Billy’s chest, let him pet through his hair. 

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Baby.”