#take shit a day at a time yanno

[mars-ipan]

watching my shitpost that took maybe a couple hours to make blow up way faster than the illustration i spent days on is. bittersweet.

[felixknow]

Ok idk if ur comfortable with this if no it’s okay. So I see a lot of reactions of threesomes and who would be with who and how it would work out between the boys. but what instead of a threesome it was a cuckhold situation. What boy would be paired with who how would the vibes work out and is it a one time thing something to happen frequently like once a month? Kind of similar but somewhat different

(Any minors who I catch interacting with this post will be bLOCKED!!!!)

I have soooooo many thoughts on this. There are so many possible pairs and they have so many dynamics……

Felix cuckolding Chan long-term, because when Felix pouts and cries about how beautiful he thinks Chan’s girl is, and how Felix really liked her and really wanted her first, Chan feels like what’s the harm in letting Felix be with her one time… Curse his giving nature, especially to Felix who he feels so indebted to… They try to have a threesome, but it turns into Felix going to town on Chan’s girl and Chan sitting back, watching Felix spew the dirtiest shit, greedily fucking his girl while she’s fucked so dumb she doesn’t even notice Chan isn’t touching her. And when Felix asks again, saying “think of her pleasure,” Chan can’t say no… eventually Felix stops asking, but he never stops taking.

Chan cuckolding Jeongin long-term, because “you need to let your eldest hyung show you how to properly please a woman.” It starts because Chan likes Innie’s girl, and she’s giving him eyes right back. “It’s not that I don’t think you can learn on your own, but the internet is a perverted place and you need someone you trust to teach you well.” Jeongin willingly sits to the side and watches Chan touch his girl, lick her, finger her, fuck her, all while trying to tell himself he’s just taking notes, he’s learning right now. “There’s so much more I have to teach you,” Chan says after, patting Jeongin on the shoulder. “We’ll have another session soon.”

Han cuckolding Lee Know once, because his girlfriend is awfully fond of teasing Jisung and riling him up. “You’re such a tsundere sometimes,” she tells Lee Know. “It’s so fun to get Han all worked-up and hyper. I bet he’d just fuck the shit out of someone, yanno? He’s so animated and wild…” She says it so many times, brings it up so often, sometimes with Han around, and eventually Lee Know snaps. “If you want to see Han fuck someone so bad, why don’t you have sex with him then? Get him all riled up and let him fuck you.” Lee Know is halfway between wanting to rip Han off of and get in and join you as Han pounds you from behind so frantically that the entire bed shakes. Jealousy and anger win out and he sits and watches, waiting until you’re satisfied with Jisung’s feral sex. Never. Again. 

Hyunjin cuckolding Changbin once, because he gets tired of hearing his roommate’s girlfriend’s moans every couple of days. He barges in one night while they’re in the middle of it. Hyunjin sees Changbin from the back, balls deep in his girl who he has pinned under him. “Can you two please shut the fuck up?” he asks, standing in the open doorway. Changbin pauses, looks over his shoulder at Hyunjin with a glare and says “If you want to join so bad, just say so.” Hyunjin huffs and goes to the bed, throwing his shirt off on the way. He’s calling Changbin’s bluff for the most part, but when his girl looks up at him with stars in her eyes and her mouth hanging open, he thinks “fuck it, one time won’t hurt.” It ends with Changbin at the edge of the bed, watching his girlfriend bounce on Hyunjin’s (admittedly larger) cock. He’s furious at himself for his big mouth-- he didn’t really mean for Hyunjin to join. He didn’t think he’d really do it!!! It’s sure as shit never happening again.

Seungmin cuckolding Felix once or twice, because Felix asks him to. There’s something hot to him about the three of them-- the boys and Felix’s girl-- on a voice call together, but Seungmin and his girl are secretly in the same room and touching each other, trying to see if they can cum before Felix notices what they’re up to. It’s a fun game to him, and he gets some sex after too, so what’s the harm…

Jeongin cuckolding Hyunjin once, because they’re all together and drinking and Hyunjin’s girl says that his fingers are sooooo nice and sooo long, and Jeongin points out that his fingers are longer and probably better. The boys argue of course, like the brothers they basically are. It ends with Hyunjin’s girl in Jeongin’s lap in the back of Hyunjin’s car, fucking herself on his fingers and begging him not to stop while Hyunjin drives them home, his grip so tight on the steering wheel it feels like he could crush it.

I’ve gotta stop. This shit craaaaazy.

[bettysupremacy]

Steve-o

Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.

A/N: i love Steve. a lot.

The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?

He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 

But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 

“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.

“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.

“It’s who?” 

“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 

He nods. “As a heart attack.” 

Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.

“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”

“I need her number.” He shakes his head.

“You need one less late clock in.” 

Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 

“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 

“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 

“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 

“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 

He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 

“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 

“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 

When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 

Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!

“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 

You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 

He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 

He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 

You nod. “You work in the video store now.”

“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 

“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 

“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.

“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”

“Good one, dingus.” 

“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 

“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 

“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 

Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.

“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.

He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 

Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 

“You like movies?” 

“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 

“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 

Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 

“Okay.” You smile up at him.

He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 

Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”

Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 

“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 

He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 

Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 

“You happy with yourself?” 

Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.” 

[mournings-stars]

Alright so let's go with fluff for my fave angels Adam and lute

How would they react with their gf who's a magnet for kids?

Her ass would say that she's not fit to be a mom but kids immediately gravitate towards them and labels her as their mother figure, in mere minutes after they had met her

It'd be so adorable

"I don't know if I'll be a good mom." Then you see her giving a kid, whom she just met, piggy back rides. Like, they instantly trust her?? How????

i totally forgot this was in my drafts guys i swear im coming back LMFAOLO anyway this request is cute asl and i went a lil off topic but trust its still fluff

so first up we got adam

so adam is actually a kid person… once you’ve been around him a while

don’t get me wrong, he calls them “little shits” “gremlins” “hellspawn” whatever he can come up with, but he does want his own — like he was created for this… which when you think about it makes you a little more nervous because he would arguably be a good father in your eyes (idk ab arguably but just roll w me) just based off of this information right? you, on the other hand, weren’t made for this

“do you think i’d be a good mom?” you’d ask one day, totally out of the blue, and adam would probably choke on his own spit. “are you pregnant?” would be his first question, expression not giving away any kind of feeling he would have if you were. when you shake your head, he sighs and that makes you feel worse

but, like, it’s adam — he didn’t mean to make you feel bad, and he definitely thinks you’d be a good mom so after a while, sometime later that day, he’ll bring it up again cause he can tell you were overthinking things

“you know, if you were… yanno,” his eyes went to your stomach, “i’d be really fucking stoked.” and he kinda doesn’t know what you’re upset about, which is completely evident when he mentions how much of a milf you’d be before telling you how good of a mom you’d be, but at least he got there! and he made you laugh in the process

whenever you’re talking to an angel with a kid, adam will point out how the kids are always drawn to you; asking questions, talking with you, and even giving you hugs when you leave

he would not let you go on thinking you’re going to be a bad mom, like if you do ever express that you think you would be a bad mom, he’s not taking you seriously. “why don’t i put a baby in you and we can find out?” is his response, and, “adam!” is yours as he just shrugs

lute on the other hand

maybe you’re already working with kids, like you might work close with the church’s daycare or do some work (not teaching) at a school, so even though you don’t work directly with kids, you still see them often and that really makes you want a child of your own

when you tell lute this, you also tell her your worries about not being a good mom. at first she doesn’t say much, not wanting to invalidate your feelings… but she thinks they’re stupid

instead she talks to the daycare or school and sets you up with one of the programs after your usual shift, making another angel take the day off so that you had to cover for them on short notice

she’d come to bring you a snack in the middle of your shift and just see how good you are with the kids, reading to, playing with, and talking to them while they were just so drawn to you and wanting every bit of your attention

she’d definitely help you out, enjoying the opportunity to play house with you as you showed her what to do. then she’d stay until it was their nap-time. she didn’t bother saying what was obvious, knowing she’d proved your doubts wrong just by the way you smiled and laughed with the children

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabi & shouto bonding + dabihawks, fluff

It's almost noon when Touya comes shuffling into the living room he shared with his boyfriend, PJ pants hanging low on his hips, no shirt in sight.

"Well, good mo-, no wait, good midday to me, handsome," Keigo quipped with a grin and Touya rolled his eyes.

Yeah, yeah, I'm a lazy bum, I know I know," Touya replied with a yawn and a stretch.

"We can't all just call home office and lunge around in sweats all day and call it work, yanno," he added and Keigo laughed.

"So staying up until 3 am gaming with Spinner and Tenko counts as work, now?" the hero asked with a sly smirk, and Touya sighed.

"I need a shirt for this conversation, and either their all in the wash or you stole some again, and I think we all know which one is true."

Keigo raised his eyebrows at that.

"I haven't taken any more than you've given me, I swear!" he said with hands raised in surrender, and Touya sighed dramatically.

"Well, what am I supposed to wear then?"

-

Listen, Touya loves Keigo.

Everything about him, actually.

Except for the fact that, ever since the war ended and the hero was allowed to develop his own style, that style turned out to be a mix between cottage core lesbian and confused grandpa.

Actually Touya didn't mind it when the clothes were on Keigo, he actually kinda loved it.

But while Keigo looked ridiculously hot in Touya's band shirts and big hoodies, Touya didn't quite have that same luxury.

So, there he sat, in a crowded coffee shop, a busy afternoon, out in public, with his white hair, scarred skin, piercings, tattoos, ripped black skinny jeans and... a very eclectically colored cardigan Touya suspected Keigo had dug out of a thrift store that should have been closed decades ago.

Yeah, fuck his life.

Just as the former villain pulled the bucket hat he had also borrowed from his boyfriend further down on his head in a vain attempt to hide he noticed the person he was here to meet come in trough the door.

"Shouto," Touya said out loud, raiding his hand to grab his brothers attention.

His dork of a younger brother smiled, as brightly as he ever did, and moved over to Touya quickly.

"Nii-san!" The young hero greeted and Touya huffed.

"Yeah yeah, sit down ya dork, I ordered you your..."

Touya's voice trailed off as Shouto took off his jacket.

"Todoroki Shouto, are you wearing my fucking shirt?!"

Shouto looked up at him with a hint of surprise on his face as he looked down on himself , before he nodded.

"Yes, it appears that I am," he said simply before happily taking a sip of his bubble tea.

Touya just stared at him.

"Why?" he finally asked as Shouto didn't elaborate.

Shouto took his time enjoying his tea before he answered.

"It's like a hand-over, it's normal for brothers to do, you know?" he replied with a shrug.

Touya blinked a few times trying to catch up.

"A hand... over?" he finally asked, trying his best to wrap his head around this.

He decided this was a bucket hat off situation, and just as he placed the hat down, Shouto picked ip back up and put in on his head.

"Like this, see?" the young hero said as if that answered all the questions.

Touya just stared back and Shouto sighed.

"Iida said he used to get his older brothers stuff all the time, Nii-san, I really think you're making too much out of this."

Oh.

Oh, god.

This poor, clueless, sweet bastard.

"You're talking about hand-me-downs, aren't you?" Touya finally asked, and Shouto nodded.

"Yes, that was the phrase."

Touya bit his lip, trying to figure out how to go about this without being too mean.

Look at him, all reformed and shit.

"Look Sho, I get that we have a lot of catching up to do, but if you want my stuff as hand-me-downs or whatever it'd be great if you asked first, okay?" Touya explained.

Shouto hummed.

"I must have misunderstood the tradition then, I apologize."

Touya huffed.

"It's okay, kid," he said with a small smile, and Shouto smiled back, before his gaze fell to the cardigan Touya was wearing and his brown furrowed.

"You can keep that one, though," Shouto said seriously, and Touya couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Yeah, I don't judge ya there, kid," he replied with a grin.

Before they parted ways a few hours later Touya quickly snapped a picture of Shouto in the bucket hat to send to Keigo with a warning that he'd probably never seen that hat again.

It was handed down now, after all.

[tenderleavesbob]

Twilight was vibrating on the swing beside him. Time sipped his milk and watched the sun set over the ranch, painting the sky in soft pinks and blues. All across the ranch, the animals were settling in for the night. One by one, they grew quiet, allowing the crickets to fill in the silence. Well, the crickets and the swing creaking under each restless shift made by Twilight.

Twilight got it from Malon's side of the family, Time decided, taking another sip of his milk. She was just as bad when she had gossip to share from town or if he left her hanging too long about what gossip he had heard.

Time waited until he thought Twilight might actually fall off the swing before he lowered his milk. "Lovely evening, don't you think?"

His descendant stared incredulously at him. Time sipped his milk again. His cup was running low. "Did you know?"

"Know what?" Time asked blandly. Malon sounded like she was busy inside. He might need to get up and refill his own cup.

The sound which emerged from Twilight sounded more lupine than Hylian. He tugged at his hair. Time hid his smile behind his cup.

With one last noise which reminded Time of a boiling kettle, Twilight released his hair to wave in the air. "About what Warriors said! Did you know?"

"Ah," Time said. "That."

Twilight made another inhuman noise. "Yes! That! I mean... I didn't think..."

His accent was growing thicker. Time kept it to himself how adorable he found that. "It isn't that odd. We all have an unusual relationship with the Goddesses --"

"But the rest of us didn't become a priest!" Twilight hissed. He waved his hands in the air. Time discreetly leaned backward. "How... Why...?"

"Monk," Time corrected. Inside the ranch, he heard Legend yell something. He thought he heard Malon laughing. "A warrior monk of Hylia. He took his vows after the war."

"I... argh!" Twilight doubled over and gripped his hair again. Time relented and rubbed Twilight's back. His descendant was so cute. He got that from Malon, too.

When Twilight calmed down again, he huffed a breath and sat back up. "I didn't think Warriors was the religious type, yanno? I --" Twilight froze. He grew pale. "Did I insult him? Did I say somethin' I wasn't 'pose to say? Shit, shit..." His eyes widened. "Shit, I can't curse... I mean, I didn't mean to say... shit! Ah, crap! Time!"

It took more effort than Time had ever imagined to not laugh. His chest was beginning to hurt. He coughed. "Twilight..."

"He was just tired of people bugging him for dates." Wind hopped on the swing beside Time and gave him a fresh mug of milk. He had another cup for himself. "No big deal. People didn't listen to him when he said he wasn't interested, but they don't want to flirt with a monk. Most people don't bother him now."

Twilight stared at them. Time wasn't sure if he was breathing. Time finished off the dregs from the first cup, put it down on the swing beside him, and held his new cup in both hands. "It saves him from marriage proposals, too. No one would ask twice about Hylia's champion swearing himself to Her service."

"Gah," Twilight said.

"Becoming a monk because he's too nice to tell people to fuck off," Wind said with a sigh. "I told him if he just started stabbing people --"

"Or let us do it," Time said.

"-- it would help a lot. Or set 'em on fire. Whatever."

"Gah," Twilight repeated.

Time and Wind looked at each other, shrugged, and drank their milk. Inside the ranch, Legend was still shouting. Twilight whimpered and hid his face in his hands.

Later, Time would remind Twilight of the blue streak Warriors had cursed when he had stubbed his toe earlier that day. Later. After he finished his milk. It looked like Twilight needed a minute, anyway.

[callmearcturus]

what erik needs is fucking adderall

based on the idea punct and I keep kicking around that bc Peter is clearly ADHD as fuck, Erik is too but he's never been medicated so he's just so fucking high-functioning he's like a neurotic clock that has ground all of his reactions down and has his shit on lockdown. so then what if he finally gets medication?

Peter, in his cast after XMA: Oh yeah can someone run into town to pick up my good good drugs? Cause my leg. Charles: Drugs? Ah, the-- yes, I'll ask Hank. Erik, curious: Drugs? Peter: Hard drugs. Fuckin' speed, my man. Charles: It's not-- it's. Dextroamphetamine besalt, not-- Peter: Amphetamine is in the name! Erik: He's on amphetamine? For his mutation? Peter: Nah, nah, I got the distraction thing. Serotonin and stuff. Charles: Oh for god's-- it's… what is it (reads Erik) ah, Aufmerksamkeits-Defizit-Hyperaktivitäts-Syndrom? Erik: I see you're pronunciation is still dreadful. ADHS, hm?

Charles, looking between Erik and Peter: Hm. Peter, lifting his eyebrows, looking at Erik, then back at Charles: I mean. No, no way. Charles: It does tend to be, ah. patrilineal, is the thing. Erik: What does? Peter: But he's Jewish, isn't that matrilineal? It's a whole thing. Charles: That-- it doesn't mean genetics work differently-- (outraged noises) Erik: What about my mother? You're talking around me. Charles: It'd just be… interesting to see. I'll have Jean go along with Hank and… suggest an extra refill. He has many of the signs for late stage diagnosis. Erik: Glauben Sie, dass ich ADHS habe? Charles: (hums non-committally)

(later) Peter: what if it kills him Erik, laying on medical bed: I'd be very annoyed, personally. I have survived quite a few impressively fatal incidents. Peter: Oh yeah like the nazis. Charles, full Professor Mode: Yes, thank you, Peter. And we have a full stock of dopamine antagonists and nitroglycerin in case he has a bad reaction. It'd be terribly poor form for me to kill your newly-discovered father so soon in your reconciliation. Erik: That lab rat feeling is returning… Perhaps I'll see if Jean needs help with the roof. Charles: No. Swallow this pill. Erik, giving a severe look: If you really decided to finally end our truce, you would do better than poisoning me, correct? Charles: I would never insult you with something so underhanded. Hell, it wouldn't be dramatic enough for me either, I'd be… Peter: … Blue-balled? Charles: Take the bloody meds, Erik.

(TWENTY MINUTES LATER) Charles, to Peter: Is he all right? Peter: Huh, yeah. Yanno sometimes I forget to pick up my refill right so I gotta go some days without it or I ration, so when I take it again, I gotta get over the sleepy. Charles: The 'sleepy'. It's speed. Peter: I know! It's so weird. It chills you out. It's better than weed honestly. I mean uh. Not that I've ever done weed. Charles: Oh please, Peter, I've rolled a few joints in my time. Peter: Huh. Cool. So is there a good dealer around here? Charles, out loud: Erik? Erik, eyes closed, breathing slowly: Yes, Charles? Charles: You don't seem to be having a hypertensive episode. Erik: No. (reaches out a hand, flicks off the lights with his power) You can go back to speaking telepathically. It's quieter.

that's all i got, i gotta sleep

[dragonflylady77]

The Birthday Wish

I decided on Wednesday afternoon to write a fic for Billy's birthday (on the Friday). Just pretend it's still 29 March, okay?

Gift for @spaceofentropy

You can find it on ao3

TW Neil Hargrove, child abuse

Steve drove up to the quarry, slowing right down when he noticed there was already a car there. A very familiar blue car.

“Fuck!” His evening was shit enough, having had to endure three hours of the Party as well as Jonathan and Nancy being all cozy on the couch at the Byers’ house for Will’s birthday, he didn’t fancy a confrontation with Billy Hargrove on top of that.

It was too late though, Hargrove would have noticed his car by now, for sure, and Steve knew he’d never hear the end of it if he turned tail now.

He parked alongside the Camaro and turned his engine off. He glanced to his left and did a double take when he noticed Hargrove was sitting on the hood of his car, a thin looking blanket on his lap. The guy was holding something but it was too dark, even with the nearly full moon, for Steve to see what it was.

Steve grabbed his parka from the backseat and put it on once he got out of his car.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” Hargrove asked as Steve did his zipper up.

It was cold as balls, barely above freezing. “Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants,” he muttered under his breath, not expecting Hargrove to hear him but then he started laughing and Steve stared.

He couldn’t remember ever hearing Billy Hargrove laugh before. It was surprisingly heartwarming and Steve wished he could see his face properly. He stepped closer to the Camaro and peered at Billy. He had a can of beer between his thighs and was holding a cupcake.

Huh.

“You’re just in time, pretty boy,” Billy said, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his denim jacket, followed by his Zippo and a… birthday candle.

“In time for what?” Steve asked, confused as fuck. He didn’t even react to the pet name, he was kinda used to it. Truth be told, he hadn’t heard it for a while, since he wasn’t at school anymore, and he kinda missed it, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

“‘m turning eighteen in a few minutes,” Billy said around the cigarette between his lips. The flame of his lighter illuminated his face for a couple of seconds, long enough for Steve to see the black eye and the dried blood on his cheek.

“The fuck happened to you, Hargrove?”

Billy shrugged. “Neil didn’t take too kindly to Maxine reminding him it was my birthday. He expressed his displeasure before I dropped her off for her sleepover at the Byers’.”

“Excuse me, but what the fuck?”

“Don’t worry about it, princess. I’m just glad he gave me time to pack a bag before he kicked me out.”

“Kicked you out? On your birthday? Again, what the fuck?” Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Well, yanno, I’m eighteen now, legally an adult, so I have to fend for myself or some such,” Billy said, checking the time on his watch and pressing the sad looking candle into the frosting of his blue cupcake.

Steve watched him light the candle, his heart in his throat as he connected some dots. What kind of parent kicked their kid out the day they turned eighteen? What kind of monster beat up their kid because it was their birthday? Holy shit .

Billy made eye contact with Steve before he closed his eyes for a moment and blew out his birthday candle.

“What d’you wish for?”

Billy grinned before he removed the candle and put it back in his pocket. “Can’t tell you, Stevie, or it won’t come true.”

“Happy birthday, Billy.”

“Thanks.” Billy ripped the cupcake in two and offered one of the halves to Steve, who took it with a nod. 

Steve looked at it then back at Billy.

“It’s not poisoned, in case you’re wondering,” Billy said before he moved off the center of the hood and patted the space beside him. “Come sit with me, I promise I won’t bite.”

Holding his half cupcake, Steve sat on the edge of the Camaro’s hood before sliding closer to Billy. The metal was still a bit warm and it made Steve feel something he didn’t care to analyze.

“What are you gonna do?” Steve asked as he took a bite. The frosting was really sweet, and the cupcake vanilla flavored.

Billy shrugged again. “Sleep in my car, I guess, shower at school, or something, I dunno. Neil didn’t find the money I’ve been saving but it’s not enough for a motel, not to last until graduation, anyway.”

“Billy, it’s way too cold to be sleeping in your car. You’ll freeze to death!”

“Cute that you think anyone will care, Harrington.” Billy laughed and this time, it made Steve shiver. Unlike before, there was no happiness in that laugh. “Not sure you’ve noticed but literally no one gives a fuck about me. No one at school. Certainly no one at the house on Cherry Lane.”

“Max cares,” Steve countered. You care , a voice in his mind added but he shushed it.

“She only cares because I’m her ride to places and it saves her having to walk everywhere. I have zero illusions about where I stand.” Billy balled up the paper case of his cupcake and threw it into the bushes.

“Surely—” Steve was sure Billy was wrong about Max.

“Nah, pretty boy. It’s fine. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Just promise me, when they find me dead in a ditch, make up some good stories about me at my funeral, okay?” His empty beer can went the way of the cupcake case.

“That’s not funny.”

“Like I said, not your problem,” Billy said, an edge in his voice that Steve was wary of. “You should head home before your parents wonder what happened to you.”

Steve snorted. “My parents are somewhere in Europe, and they don’t give a fuck.”

“Aww Stevie, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“They showed up on Christmas Day and told me I had six months to sort myself out because they were putting the house on the market on July 1. I’m lucky my mom talked my dad out of cutting me off when I didn’t get into college.”

“Ouch.” Billy winced. “What are you gonna do?”

Steve shrugged. Working at Family Video was all well and good but it wasn’t really a long term plan. “Saving most of my shitty wages until I have to leave, then, I don’t know. Indy, maybe. Or Chicago, I guess.”

“You need to think bigger, princess. There’s a whole world out there. Where’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go? What’s on your list?”

Steve took a moment to really think about it, watching his breath make little clouds of steam every time he exhaled. His ass was getting cold as well, sitting on the cooling metal. Billy’s blanket looked even thinner up close than it had earlier. It was time to move this party somewhere else.

“Hey, don’t feel like you have to say yes, or anything, but you wanna come back to my house? It’ll be warmer than here. I’ll even make us some food if you want.”

Billy didn’t punch his lights out or say no outright, so Steve counted that as a win. Billy gave him a confused look.

“Didn’t you have dinner at that weird kid’s birthday party? I saw your car there.”

“Yeah, well, sitting across from my ex and her new boyfriend kinda killed my appetite. I’m starving.”

“I didn’t realize you could cook, Stevie,” Billy said, taking one last drag of his cigarette before pressing the butt of it to the underside of his boot and dropping it in the dirt.

“My parents have been taking progressively longer trips ever since I was twelve, so I had to learn. There’s only so many frozen pizzas and boxed mac and cheese a guy can eat before he craves real food.”

***

Billy followed Steve to Loch Nora and parked his Camaro next to the bimmer in the Harringtons’ vast garage. He wasn’t too sure what was happening, but the promise of warmth, food and company definitely beat sleeping in his car at the quarry with the shitty blanket he’d sneaked out of Cherry Lane. 

He left his boots by the door in the foyer and spent a moment taking in what he could see of his former teammate’s house. The Harringtons lived on the other end of the spectrum when it came to income bracket, no doubt about it. For starters, they had an upstairs and what looked like a formal lounge and, oh yeah, was that a freaking pool ?

“Billy?” Steve called out and Billy startled.

“Yeah?” he replied, wandering towards the voice and the light. The kitchen was bigger than his bedroom at Neil’s house, with a double oven and too many cupboards to count.

“Hey, there you are,” Steve looked up at him from the freezer. “You okay with gnocchi?”

“Um, I guess. Never had them.”

Steve smiled at him and Billy felt something warm unfurl in his chest. He was having trouble remembering why this crush he’d been harboring on Steve was a bad idea, what with the way Steve was finally giving the attention he’d been craving since the first day.

He sat on the bar stool by the breakfast bench and watched as Steve put a big pot of water on the stove. Steve kept telling Billy what he was doing as he was doing it, explaining it was a recipe he’d found in a cookbook his parents had brought back from one of their trips.

The butter and sage smelled delicious and Billy couldn’t wait to try this dish. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken the time to cook for him. Susan’s cooking skills were not the best and she cooked whatever Neil demanded anyway. One of the upsides of being kicked out was that Billy would never have to pretend to enjoy Susan’s bland, dry meatloaf.

Billy realized Steve was calling his name and he looked over at him. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Dinner is ready. You wanna watch a movie while we eat?”

Billy nodded, at a loss to explain why Steve was being so nice to him. It wasn’t like they were friends. Yeah, sure, Billy had apologized after the fight that night back in November, but the few times he’d taken Max to the video store, he’d stayed in the car to avoid any awkwardness.

Now he’d shared his birthday cupcake with the guy and they were sitting down on his expensive looking couch to watch a movie, with a beer and delicious smelling food Steve had made for them. Almost made Billy forget about Neil whaling on him and kicking him out of the house.

He expected Steve to sit on the other end of the couch but he sat right next to Billy instead, his thigh warm against Billy’s. They ate in silence, and Billy did his best to pay attention to the plot of the movie Steve had picked but he was too distracted to care much. He hadn’t been this close to Steve since basketball practice and it was making his heart race.

Billy was trying not to read too much into the prolonged physical contact. He’d already been punched once tonight, he wasn’t looking for a repeat. Resisting the urge to put his hand on Steve’s thigh was getting harder and Billy wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to control his body’s reaction. That was an embarrassing situation he could do without, not to mention extremely awkward. 

He put his empty plate on the coffee table and stood up, asking Steve for directions to the bathroom before telling him he didn’t need to pause the movie. Billy then rushed out of the living room and locked the bathroom door behind him, resting against it for a minute. Fuck. Maybe he should leave, head over to the Motel 6 for the night and work out what to do tomorrow. 

Once he was done in the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen and got a glass of water to give himself some time. 

“You okay?” Steve asked from the doorway and Billy startled.

“Y-yeah, just, um, needed a drink.” He drained the last of his water and put the glass in the sink. “Look, Steve, it’s really late. I’ll… um, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for dinner but I better be going.”

“What? No.” Steve walked into the kitchen and stopped in front of Billy. “Why?”

Because if I stay I’ll probably get a boner and try to kiss you…

Billy ran a tired hand through his hair. “It’s just… it’s better this way.”

“Better for who?” Steve asked, not budging when Billy tried to move past him.

“Steve…”

“Listen, Billy, I’m sorry.” 

“What?”

Steve’s hand made it halfway to Billy before he dropped it at his side and wasn’t that a mindfuck? “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by sitting so close to you on the couch. I just…”

“You just…?” Billy’s fingers twitched with the need to reach out to the boy in front of him. He could feel Steve’s eyes on him, a phantom touch that heated up his skin, so for once, he let himself look. Steve’s hair looked like he’d been raking his fingers through it, his brown eyes fixated on Billy, the moles dotting his cheek and his neck, the yellow jumper that looked so soft. 

Billy didn’t let his gaze move below the belt, instead trailing back up to Steve’s mouth, his lips looking so fucking kissable. And so close. Huh? Before Billy could fully process that Steve had closed the gap between them, Steve leaned forward, cupping Billy’s face with both hands, and pressed their mouths together.

The contact was brief. Too soon, Steve pulled away, dropping his hands and taking a step back, eyes wide, like he suddenly realized the enormity of what he’d done. Billy grabbed him by the waist with both hands and pulled him close, capturing Steve’s lips and unleashing a year and a half of pent up yearning and pining. 

Billy found himself pressed against the side of the fridge, Steve’s tongue in his mouth and Steve’s arms around his neck. The kiss went from soft and exploratory to frantic and thrilling. Billy couldn’t get enough. He could feel Steve getting hard against his belly and it was intoxicating.

They broke the kiss when breathing became an issue but didn’t move away from each other.

“Stay,” Steve whispered against his lips and Billy nodded.

Later, tangled with Steve in his bed, naked and sated, Billy told Steve in hushed whispers how he’d wanted to kiss him since the Halloween party at Tina’s. Steve told Billy of all the times he’d stamped down on the attraction he was feeling because he believed it would never go anywhere. Billy laughed when Steve said he’d thought Billy was straight, then told him about Neil.

Over breakfast the next morning, Billy told Steve he’d secretly applied to colleges in California, and Steve told him he’d never seen the ocean. They started making plans.

***

Billy stepped off the stage on Graduation Day and walked past his classmates and the rest of the crowd until he reached the parking lot. Steve and Max were leaning against the Camaro, chatting animatedly. Max ran to him when she spotted him and they hugged.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Billy!” she cried when he let go of her.

“You can come visit, shithead,” he replied with a grin. Being with Steve had helped repair their relationship and Billy had had to admit that Steve was right and Max did care. 

“You better write me when you get there.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I promised, didn’t I?”

They hugged one last time then Steve said his goodbyes and they got into the car.

Billy told Steve he could picked a tape and a lone birthday candle fell out of the glove box when Steve opened it.

“You never did tell me about your birthday wish, Billy,” Steve said, holding the candle up with two fingers.

Billy smiled as he pulled away from the lot. “I guess I can tell you now, since it came true.”

“Oh?”

“You were my wish, pretty boy.”

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hello, I loved your Minho stories and I want to make a request. Minho and female reader are in a dangerous situation and one of those saves the other and the one that's been saved kisses the others cheek as a thank you and the tension is like super high. Thank you♡♡

Ooo yesss finally I get to write some action! I've been waiting for this.

Also, I know it's not really fluff, but that was the only category I write that I could fit this in on my masterlist lmao.

HIDE AND SEEK

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Takes place before the arrival of Thomas.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, pure unbridled panic.

"Will you hurry your ass up?" Minho shouts from ahead of you, already irritated by your slower pace than him.

You're a Runner. Well, you're going to be a Runner. You're currently in your awkward training phase, which means that until you get good enough to run on your own, you're stuck with the grumpy and sarcastic Keeper.

Honestly, Minho was reluctant to agree to it. You're a girl- the only girl, and he's not exactly prepared to deal with you or your shit. So, when Alby put you forward to be a Runner after one of the boys got injured, Minho was quick to decline.

He figured you wouldn't be able to handle it but he was swiftly reminded by Newt about your first day.

It was definitely a Greenie day to be remembered. First, a girl shows up, shocking everyone.

And then you ran.

Unbelievably fast, grabbing the sides of the metal cage of the Box, hurling yourself up, and using the boys' momentary confusion to make your escape. It wasn't unusual for Greenies to run; there's actually an on-going inside joke about it.

What stunned them was when Gally caught you as he'd ran from another direction, and you socked him so hard in the jaw that the Med-jacks thought he'd broke it. It's a bit of a blur now, but you managed to take down three boys twice your size before Newt hit you in the head with a shovel.

You still have the scar.

Honestly, Minho wishes he would've been there to see it, but alas, he was not. Though the uproar he returned to was like no other.

Your fiery energy and impossibly high stamina is perfect for running the Maze, and Minho was forced to accept that.

"Hey!" He grinds to a halt, spinning around and snapping at you, "The shuck are ya doin'? We gotta move!"

You had stopped in front of one of the walls, examining the lettering under the ivy.

"There's words!"

"Yeah! I know, come on!"

You groan.

Minho is relentless. At first, you were thrilled you were getting some alone time with the very attractive Runner- but you quickly came to learn he's just as draining as any other boss you'd have.

"I'm just looking, man," you jog over to him, "what's the big deal? We're already ahead of schedule."

"That doesn't mean we can stop. I told you- we can never-"

"Yeah, yeah, 'never stop running'. I know, I know. Just lemme be curious for a second, a'ight?"

"We don't have time for that," he starts walking ahead, preparing himself to break into another sprint before actually doing it.

"Sure we do; it's kinda like the whole point of the gig," he raises his eyebrow, looking at you over his shoulder, "yanno? To be curious about the Maze?"

Minho doesn't even bother responding, probably because you're right, but he's never going to admit when he's wrong. He takes off running again, and you huff, grumbling to yourself that he doesn't have to be such a dick. But you still follow him without hesitation.

He turns another corner. Then another. And another.

Until he stops dead in his tracks. He stops so suddenly you nearly run straight into the back of him, just managing to slow in time.

"What are you doing?" You hiss, but he looks back at you, anger flashing in his eyes for a second before he presses a finger to his lips, telling you to shut up.

He then points ahead and you follow his finger, eyes widening at the sight.

Around the next corner, you can see the long, sectioned tail of a Griever. Its scorpion-inspired stinger on full display as you suck in a deep breath.

"Back up," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper as you're frozen behind him, "slowly."

You nod feverishly, taking a step backwards. Suddenly, you've become his best student yet, ready to listen to anything and everything he tells you to do.

Minho follows suit, not letting the creature out of his sight, and you're preparing yourself to make a straight sprint back to the Glade. Maybe he was right- this Runner shit might not be for you.

"Okay," he basically hums, "once we're back round the corner, run for it."

"Sounds like a plan," you attempt to push out, but your knees are shaking as adrenaline makes your heartbeat jump into your ears.

You take another cautious step back and Minho is quick to follow.

Only for you to almost pass out from fear when a load mechanical screech shakes the walls of the Maze. You don't even get to see that the Griever has turned around, but judging by Minho's reaction, it had.

"Go! Go! Run!" You scramble slightly, your hands hitting the floor from how fast you spin around. Minho half catches you, even though you don't need him to. He pushes you forward, giving you an unnecessary but appreciated head start.

Minho is hot on your heels as you bolt through the Maze, allowing you to take the lead. Not that he has much choice.

"Minho!" You're suddenly overwhelmed with concern for the boy and you glance over your shoulder.

"Don't look back!" He yells, breath heavy and his footsteps hitting the solid floor that echos through the walls. "Don't worry about me, alright? Just run!"

You caught a brief glimpse of the monstrosity hunting you down. It's surprisingly fleshy, its bulbous skin is shiny, and multiple metal arms stick out aimlessly in multiple directions as small spikes cover its slimey body.

You'll be seeing that in your nightmares.

You're fast to turn another corner, nearly tripping over some vines- 'breadcrumbs' as Minho calls them -that you'd cut off of the wall earlier.

"Hey, watch out for-" you have no time to fully warn Minho as his foot catches on the severed plant, his body tumbling to the floor.

You stop immediately, your companion taking forefront in your list of concerns as you run towards him. He's quick to get back on his feet, your grasping hands doing very little to actually help him.

"Come on! Come on!" You shout as Minho finds his feet again.

The Griever is closer now, the clicking and whirring noises are far too close for comfort as you start running again. It's right behind you as it suddenly dives forward.

It bumps against Minho, knocking him down and colliding with you, forcing you onto the floor as you roll a few feet, groaning.

The creature is quick to get on top of you. It's metal spider legs trap you in place as it's gross, dripping mouth opens, letting out a terrifying scream that sounds like a mix of animal and machine.

You cry out in response as it lifts its tail, holding the pointed syringe that's attached above your head. It's almost teasing you, like it enjoys watching you squirm and scream for your life.

Out of nowhere, a rock hits the creature square in the head as Minho stands stunned, his chest rising as falling. The Griever lifts its face away from yours to face him, and he immediately backs away as it lets out another ferocious animalistic noise.

You take the opportunity to squeeze between its legs, just managing to slip through. Half-crawling, half-running, you rush to Minho.

He grabs you, yanking you up straight as you run back in the direction you just came from. The Griever is slow to react to this.

As you remember Minho saying; "they're dangerous bastards, but dumb as klunk."

You both take what you can get, the pure stress distracting both of you as Minho is still yet to let go of your hand.

"Come on," he's almost breathless, something you've never seen before, "I've got an idea."

You blindly follow him. Not that you have much choice as he's practically dragging you.

You're definitely not cut out for this type of work yet. Your sides burn as anaerobic reparation kicks in and the muscles in your legs feel like they're about to give in at any second.

You turn another corner, and Minho sharply pulls you to the right. He starts rummaging around the ivy, muttering to himself. "C'mon, c'mon!"

"What are you doing?" You snap, your voice breaking. He ignores you.

"Yes!" He pulls back a chunk of ivy to reveal a dip in the wall. It's small, less than a metre long and a few feet deep into the wall.

He steps into it, his back pressed to the side as he ushers you to join him. You pause for a second until the noises of the approaching amalgamation of horrors fills your ears.

He pulls you in with him, and you struggle to fit, your back against the other side and your front to his. He reaches out, pulling the ivy that falls back in place, covering you both back up.

The ivy acts as a blanket, light breaking in and reflecting off of Minho's face, which is beaded with sweat. You both hold your breath as you hear the creature cover the ground of the stretch of corridor.

You screw your eyes shut, only allowing yourself to open them once the shadow of the creature passes.

You look at Minho. His head is thrown back against the wall as his chest rises and falls, relief visibly washing over him.

Several minutes pass as you both will your bodies to calm down. Your body has turned to mush, and you're sure that if it weren't for Minho and the wall, you would've collapsed by now.

"Are you okay?" Your voice comes out as strained and scratchy. To your surprise, Minho scoffs.

"Are you?"

"Yeah," you pant out, "I think so."

"Not stung, are ya?"

"You didn't give it chance." He scoffs again. "How'd you know this was here?"

"I've run this thing every day since I can remember," he explains as you look at him, "I know these walls like the back of my hand."

It's impressive. It really is. What Minho's capable of is almost superhuman. The Maze is huge- you've run his routes with him for a couple of days, and that's just the parts he normally covers. This little crevice isn't even on his normal path, yet he knew almost exactly where it was.

Neither of you moved for a while, only now becoming aware of how close you are. Your chests are pushed together, and your faces are merely inches apart. The whole thing would be very hot if you hadn't just nearly fucking died.

"Alright, come on," Minho reaches out, pushing the leaves out of his way again and shuffling to fit out, trying his best not to push against you more than he has to.

Once out, he holds the plant in place as he jolts his head, gesturing you to join him, "We're good. It's clear."

You nod, also stepping out of your safe place, taking an anxious look either side. Just in case.

"We're going back to the Glade, right? 'Cause fuck continuing after that." He attempts to give you a smirk but it falls flat.

"Yeah, we're going back. When klunk like this happens, we normally call it a day. There's only so much I can take, too."

Neither of you have the energy to break into anything more than a jog, but time is on your side, so it's not a problem. You also want to save your remaining energy for another potential Griever attack.

The events of what just happened flash before your eyes, and it doesn't take a genius to realise you'd be dead if it weren't for the boy. You trail behind again but he doesn't shout at you this time.

You're not as used to dealing with this as he is, after all.

As the Glade slowly approaches, your new feelings of appreciation run strong as the experience slowly starts to sink in.

You owe Minho your life- you owe him everything. If he didn't think fast and throw that rock, you would've been stung. Or worse. You shiver at the thought.

But that doesn't stop you from picking up pace slightly, catching up to him. Delicately, you touch his wrist. You know you're safe here- Grievers don't come this close to the Glade in the day.

"Hey, Minho," he glances at his wrist and then up to your face.

"Yeah?" Your words fail you for a second. Even in his disheleved state, he still looks pretty, and the way he's looking at you right now could make you melt. He seems softer than before, almost like he's coming to terms with what's happened himself.

Instead of speaking, you stand on your tiptoes, leaning in and planting a kiss on his cheek.

You pull away, examining his face. The harmless gesture has made Minho's face red. Well, redder, at least, as blush dusts his tanned skin.

"Thank you," you whisper, your faces almost as close as when you were hiding in the wall.

"For what?" It's not cocky. He seems genuinely dumbfounded at what you could possibly be appreciative of.

"For saving my life. Duh."

His eyes flicker to your lips, seemingly unintentionally as his body turns more towards you. The action makes butterflies form in your stomach, causing all the fatigue to evaporate from your aching muscles.

He leans in further and you don't move, your noses brushing for a second until you jolt backwards, startled as a voice reaches you from the Glade.

"The shuck are you shanks doing back here?" Alby's deep voice sounds like a frown, "It's not even lunch yet!"

Minho passes you one more look. A look that's full of an emotion you can't quite read.

"We nearly shuckin' died, you slinthead!" He shouts, stepping away from you and towards the Leader lingering at the Doors. "That's what!"

You're left standing in the corridor. You can hear Minho already start to bicker with the older boy, who seems more irritated than concerned for your well-being.

You can still feel the ghost of Minho's close presence lingering around you, causing another adrenaline spike. Your heart is pounding in your chest like it's trying to break free from your ribcage.

For the second time today.

This was genuinely so fun to write. I literally sat down and wrote it in one sitting. I really liked this promt and just knew I had to do it as soon as I saw it.

Requests are still open, and I hope you enjoyed :))

[mikeeel]

always 'nd forever seungcheol x mixed!reader (MY REPPP) bestfriends to lovers!au (YAAAAAAAAAA) warnings: not much, jst dirty things & suggestive not explicit smut but yanno they get naked, weed, Idk

based off of girl with the tattoo.lewd by miguel

IMAGINE:

you and seungcheol had been bestfriends for as long as you could speak. you two were glued to the hip since youth and no matter how many times you tried to break apart, you always managed to come back to each other. you've never known anyone different. it's always been you and him. it was visible you were close. so visible, your classmates would ask either of you where the other was when they weren't present, because if anyone would know where one was, the other would know. and it's correct. you always knew. you shared everything, you've seen everything. nothing was, embarrassing between you two, i mean, you've bathed with each other for god's sake! that's what close friends do. and since he always defended you when people would comment on your skin colour and then your parents' LACK of colour, you always found him a safe place, a comfort zone. and since he was always alone, you gave him company within a big house.

'girl! where are you?' yunjin waves in your face, pulling a face as she snaps you back into reality. 'sorry, uh,' you scramble to find the notes you were reading over. but your phone vibrates.. cheollie :) is ringing you swipe your phone quicker than yunjin could blink and you answer it with a honey-dew like voice. 'hello?' you say while twirling your hair like a 14 year old girl. you smile cheekily while yunjin pulls the most disgusted face known to man. 'uhm, yeah i'm studying with yunjinnie.. uhh, we're like done now basically hahaha.' you cutely giggled as you falsely claim that you've finished everything (you haven't even started) and start packing away. 'a party?' you stop in your tracks and yunjin's eyes widen. you look at yunjin and she shrugs, egging you on to reply. 'sure, i'll go. yunjin will come with me,' you say as you mouth sorry to a pissed off yunjin. 'okay. love you, bye' you hang up and slap your head repetitively. you can never say no to seungcheol and it's starting to piss you off. 'are you serious, y/n? our project is due in two days.' yunjin scolds you and proceeds to pack up too. 'yunjin, please! this could be my chance.' you beg her with pleading eyes. 'smch, whatever,' she rolls her eyes and grabs you to get ready for the party.

you knock on the door of the house literally vibrating from the loud dj music and screaming. seungkwan opens the door with a desperate look on his face. seungcheol is attempting to chug from a keg but is failing miserably. as you watch him you hear yunjin whisper, "why don't you show him you can do everything he can?" as you remember all the times he says you were too 'afraid' to have fun. you walk over there and snag it from seungcheol's hands. as you chug it and chug it, everyone is egging you on. as you remove your lips and look up from the keg, seeing stars mixed with people's faces the whole room is silent. everyone is looking at each other while seungcheol looks at you in shock. he gives you the widest, shit-eating grin ever and exclaims. 'fuck yeah!!' cheers and roars of encouragement are heard as everybody slaps your shoulders and back. dokyeom shakes your hand. 'well done, y/n. i knew you could do it. i'm about to cry,' he starts to weep dramatically and you roll your eyes. 'y'all can't take no shit.' you kiss your teeth as you whip your head away from him. dokyeom laughs out loud and slaps cheol on his back. 'i forget your girl's british and jamaican. combination of two worlds,' he attempts to do a british accent but pathetically fails. but what you focus on is that dk called you seungcheol's 'girl'? and, he didn't react but laugh and slap him on the back of his head. you can't lie, it got you flustered but that's normal right? right..

'come on, dk. lay off it. your british accent is almost as bad as your engineering final grades,' vernon chuckles as the three of you bust up laughing as dokyeom walks off with an attitude. you don't forget what you came here for though, so you tap cheol on the shoulder. 'hey, can we talk?' you whisper in his ear, he nods and pulls you closer to whisper back. his hot breath fanning across your neck and ear as he whispers. 'yeah of course darling, what about?' you freeze. you personally combusted into a million flames and literally FELT like you were on fire. you felt like you were about to pass out and fawn like women did in those really old movies. you pull him closer until he turns his head and silence.. everything seems silent. it was only for 20 seconds or so but it felt like eternity in his eyes. you snapped out of it though when you dragged to a typical spin the bottle. cheol shouts in agreement as he puts out his hand. 'wanna do it?' as his eyes trace your features. your perked lips and brown eyes with falsies flashing at him. you look beautiful, he's mesmerised. you put your hands in his. 'only if it's with you.' you say as you squeeze his hand. he flashes a golden boy smile as he holds your hand to walk to the living room.

'okay, y/n. you spin,' dokyeom says while taking a swig of some bacardi. you shake your head and spin. it spins and lands on vernon. everyone laughs and chants 'kiss' as you shrug. you don't give a fuck, you downed so many shots and had that big bowl of alcohol, you don't remember what's what and you don't care either.

'sexy, give me a kiss,' you slur as a joke and climb to vernon and grab his face. you kiss him long, slow and hard. everyone in the room is shocked, except one.

seungcheol.

he's bursting at the seams inside actually, trying not to rip you off vernon and show you exactly who deserves you. his clenched teeth and fists, he's mad. and dk noticed. he clears his throat before you start to get deeper in the kiss with vernon. you two break apart and you let out the most obvious giggle ever. vernon shakes his head as you turn your body around to sit on him, and vernon snakes his hands around you to wrap himself around you and whispers in your ear. you giggle and whisper back at his ear as your head tilts backwards onto his shoulders. this is when seungcheol breaks and stands up and proceeds to storm out the living room. you're too focused on vernon's shoe crevices to even notice he's gone until you noticed the long silence with everyone looking at you.

'what?' you question as you turn to ask seungcheol what's going on, you saw he wasn't there anymore. yunjin slaps vernon's hand from your waist.

'girl? did you forget what you here for?' yunjin hushers as she pushes you off. your eyes widen as you run off to find seungcheol.

he's upstairs in his room, window open and looking out into the street. faint barking and alarms can be heard with the midnight sky. the house feels quieter, but he doesn't care that much. 'vernon? you gotta be shitting me,' he says to himself.

you walk up the stairs, towards the back of the house where seungcheol's room is, cursing yourself for not thinking. that's exactly what you NEVER do. you see the door is slightly ajar so you creep in. you scowl as you see a cigarette. as you take the cigarette from his hand, he looks up at you with jealousy in his eyes but a twang of hurt too. 'stop smoking, i told you it's not attractive,' you say as you twist and turn it on the ashtray. 'says the one who smokes blunts,' he grunted as you laughed. 'only when i go to jamaica,' you stand next to him and fiddle with your jeans. 'do you like me, y/n?' he asks and you tense. a long exhale is heard as you scratch your head. 'yeah,' you say straight up. cheol nods. silence occurs and you get more uncomfortable by the second. 'it's okay if you don't like me back. i get it,' you stammered. he shakes his head. 'i've been waiting for you for you to like me back since i turned 15. trust me, there's a lot of things that i'm not, but the one thing i am is in love with you,' he said, but his lip twitched. usually it means he's nervous so you move your hand to his. 'i'm sorry for kissing vernon,' you whisper, squeezing his hand. you've both held hands many times but this time, it just feels different, it feels real. 'it's okay n/n. you can kiss me instead,' he turns his head to face you. you feel sober, he made you realise, he's your reality, your future. he always had been. your eyes get glossy as you admire his features. you lean in to kiss him, his lips flushed against yours. over time, you get closer, touchier. you feel him, here, now. you break apart. the only light in the room is moonlight as he leads you to his bed. 'i want to show you how vulnerable i am for you, y/n,' cheol begins slowly rising his shirt, showing his heartbeat tattoo on his heart. his body sculpted by god, perfecting itself in the shining light. you truly are in him completely. 'i'm vulnerable for you, seungcheol. i always have been,' you unbuckle your corset top as you let it fall, revealing your blue, lacy bra. he inhales as he tries to contain himself, he unties his sweatpants and lets them fall too, kicking them to a random place in his room. you undo your jean buttons, removing your trousers. you're both left in your underwear, you nod and begin taking them off, revealing your nude bodies. you feel cold as the open window brushes wind through your body, making you shiver. cheol laughs as he walks towards you. he opens his arms, leaving you to make the choice to embrace him or not. you're hesitant, but you step closer and hold him. you stay like that for a bit, holding each other.

he lets you go and slowly lowers you onto the bed, prepared to show you how much he truly loves you.

[artdcnaldson]

kit on main? whaaat?

anyways um re: roleswap au yeah i think art would just straight up give up. like we see from the start that art likes tennis, but he doesn't Love Tennis Like That. he's a good player who, under tashi specifically, gets to be Very Good, but no ones mistaking him for the next roger federer, yanno?

but maybe that's part of it? maybe he does give up. maybe he loses tashi and loses his tennis with it and thats the point? idk maybe he takes a break from it. goes back to school, plays on an intramural team to keep the skill up a little, gets a post-grad degree. maybe he makes something of himself in another world, in business or science or academia, and he stays as just the best guy at his country club.

maybe sometimes he still plays the lower ranked challengers for some shits n gigs, enters with a few mates from the club just because they can. no biggie. it's just a fun, casual way to kill a weekend in new rochelle.

until fucking patrick zweig and tashi motherfucking duncan (now zweig?) show up.

idk man im spitballing here but you know heres some food for thought ♡

Ohhhhhhh <3

Art Donaldson going back to school to become like, idk, an orthodontist or a physical therapist or something. His family floats him a loan to start his own practice, and he’s so handsome, so charming and nice it takes off.

He likes playing in tournaments, still keeps all of his trophies and Stanford merch framed at his practice. His Junior US open trophy, the trophy from Atlanta, but it’s mainly filled with trophies from smaller challengers and local tournaments.

He’s well liked, he’s personable. People like playing him even if they know he’ll win. He’s really content, honestly.

He’s 30 and he’s already set to retire comfortably. If he has kids he can let them take over the family business, keep them taken care of for life.

He’s just playing for fun��� because he needs that tie back to his glory days, or whatever. He doesn’t even think he’ll win or advance past the second round, but Patrick’s there.

Patrick, fresh off meniscus surgery, unwilling to take the time off and be coddled. He’s dominating his way through the bracket, and Art can’t just lose now.

His body aches, he’s not built to play so hard, so consistently. He sits in the sauna at the country club, wondering what the point even is. Patrick isn’t talking to him. Tashi’s avoided him like the plague. He’s fine with that. It sting seeing them. Patrick, his ex best friend, ex… whatever. Tashi, who had their marriage annulled after three months. She thought things would be different. They both did.

Art’s entire body perks up as the door opens, as Patrick slinks in, naked and uncaring. Three years ago his sex tape leaked in some massive icloud hack. Art watched it, felt very familiar with the body in the grainy footage.

He has a new scar on his knee, Art’s eyes flick up, meet his, and Patrick’s smiling in a way that wrinkles around his eyes.

“Hey, pal,” Patrick says, and he sits way too close, his hairy thigh pressed against Art’s. He’s trying to get in his head, to throw him off, which is pointless. Art doesn’t care about winning. He cares about Patrick. “Congratulations on making the final. I’m sure your country club is real proud.”

Art looks away, cheeks burning. “Oh, fuck off.”

[take-me-home-crabapple-cove]

hi im ovulating so instead of writing my fanfic, here's some dirty Hawkeye thoughts instead.

NSFW under cut.

also plz be nice to me i am literally paranoid of being percieved (i want to be a lurker but i have too many thoughts). ive never posted anything like this before so if you don't like, keep on scrollin' baby.

● holds ur head during sex so you literally have to keep your eyes on him or just kiss him.

● talks the whole time even if hes just a blabbering mess talkin nonsense. "mmph - that's – fuck....ohhhh shit" "what even – are you human? my god" "someones enjoying themself"

● "look at me, darling"

● HEAVY on eye-contact. he wants to watch whatever pretty little expression comes over your features.

● we know hes a biter, now youve got his teeth imprinted on ur neck, which he pretends he doesnt feel smug about.

● you take over?? mf is a whimpery little mess in seconds. esp if you go straight to suck his dick. words??? gone. just heavy pants and desperate hands.

● his hair is the perfect handle and his lap's the perfect saddle. save a horse, ride a surgeon, yanno?

● kiss his stomach and it's absolutely over for him. immediate nut. he's got very sensitive skin.

● period sex?? "I'm always covered in everyone elses blood, let me have some of yours too, hmm?"

● bite his ears. neck. mouth. just bite this mf he likes it

● he knows his hands are talented, and he will use them to make you fall apart and then act all smug.

● don't even get me started on the nose. nudging ur clit (if u got one). teasing ur hole. omg. i NEED him.

● main focus is that everyone is having a good time, and will make stupid jokes if you get nervous. or even if you don't, he will anyway.

● grab his neck. watch those pretty eyes dilate and breath catch in his throat as you squeeze lightly, just to be a tease.

● mans is the biggest tease. will hit on you all day until ur all hot n bothered, and hes nothing but a nonchalant ass about it when you confront him.

● grab him by the collar of his shirt. manhandle this mf (not too rough, he's babygirl, remember); throw him on the bed and pin his hands above his head. he's putty

● cums when he eats u out. not even gonna apologise, he's got an oral fixation. he talks too much, but he knows exactly what hes doing, don't fret.

● strip poker. i cant get this one out of my head. wandering eyes. growing tension. flirty banter. hands that grasp the edge of the table. tense muscles. it's still platonic, right? it's just a game, right?

[y-rhywbeth2]

Yanno, you're the person I thought to turn to first when confronted with this. We've never spoken, but hello, I love your lore dives to death.

So. Just. I'm trying to do some crazy shit with my fic. I've been deep diving. And well... The Second Sundering. Are we just... did that happen in BG3? XD It seems like a big deal that happens a few years before current day, which is during things like Blood in Baldur's Gate, and all the stuff with Durge and Gortash. And just... eh?

I'll leave it there for now and ignore all the smaller side questions I'd love your opinion on sometime.

Hi! So BG3 is very shrodingers canon, and FR video games - while official licensed products - have a very vague and loose relationship to main canon (are the events of, say, Hordes of the Underdark or Icewind Dale II canon, or no? Hard to tell though it mostly seems to be no. The outline of the original Baldur's Gate games is, for better or worse canon (most original players traditionally vote 'worse'), but the actual game 'Baldur's Gate' and the published canon 'Baldur's Gate' are different beasts.

So official canon says that we had the Second Sundering, the dead three are back, Torlin Silvershield became Chosen of Bhaal for a brief period of time before his murder, and the Dead Three are back together and walk the world Time of Troubles style in order to get around Ao's new restrictions on divine interference for [mysterious reasons]. Ed Greenwood suggests that despite being the self-styled leader, Bane is unlikely to have come up with the idea himself, which makes me wonder which one did.

BG3 seems to have had the Second Sundering: I'm pretty sure there's a book that mentions it in-game, and Bhaal and Myrkul are showing too much power for vestiges. We also have a line from Withers, if it's still there, that the three are walking Faerûn in 'mortal' form (which, based on the last time they did that is not to be confused with no longer being gods or being at all easy to kill, just means they're hanging around in physical form and their power and divine senses are limited).

But it says that and then doesn't actually seem to think about it. It's like the Sundering happened, but not necessarily exactly the way it happened in canon? Mmm I don't know.

The manifesting and power we see is a little to high imo.

Like Myrkul taking full avatar form through Ketheric requires a ritual and for him to sacrifice and burn through the souls of many of his faithful to start and sustain it, Ketheric alone shouldn't be sufficient I don't think? - and I'm not sure Myrkul can even pull it off anymore, because he may no longer have the requisite claim over the souls of the dead due to Kelemvor being in office.

(... random off-topic but honestly I'm now thinking that the Rite of Ascension would've worked better for me if it was trading 7007 souls to the Dead Three for fuel...)

I can kind of excuse Durge's (rather unnecessary in light of the Second Sundering) existence as Bhaal prefering to work from the shadows, so using his child as a figurehead works... But then Sarevok says something about how Bhaal lives again through Durge and they will enable him to walk the planes once again and... First, Bhaal is already resurrected, and secondly, he deliberately chose to leave the planes. None of that made sense! We can almost wave the first bit as metaphor (unless Bhaal is inhabiting Durge as a host-avatar 'he lives through you' makes no sense because he lives again as himself right over there in the corner) but the second bit nah.

Bane enjoys personally leading his own armies and such, which makes Gortash playing figurehead a little less likely than Durge doing so, but he has been noted to have learnt caution after the first fiasco... And/or the other two have put him on a leash or something.

There's also the possibility that the original Chosen are serving as hosts for the deities, which is a headcanon I'd enjoy being true, but the fact that their consciousnesses aren't being repressed while their gods assume direct control makes me think it's unlikely... Although the feral ending does kind of support the idea for Durge, at least. Technically hosting the Lord of Murder should kill you, but being not entirely mortal does give you an exuse.

As ever; basically, just make your own canon. 'Your realms' as it's termed. God knows I'm working from 'my realms' for the BG3 in my head and I'm still considering just porting the events of BG3 back to the 1300s where neither the Spellplague nor the Sundering happened so I don't have to deal with this headache.

[radioactivedragonbones]

Back In The Ol' Days [2014] we had the punk/nerd AU... but I have my gripes with the PNAU; it feels outdated to me. In 2014 I ate that shit up, but it's 2024 and the rampant micro-trends have me re-thinkin modern Hijack portrayals...

So here I am to propose a new PNAU: Grunge X Emo.

Hiccup as a cozy grunge kind of guy- basically just classic comfy casual clothes but with earthy tones, ripped up jeans covered in motor oil stains, and loose flannel shirts over worn-out tees.

Jack as a casual emo kind of guy- Skinny jeans with rips (often on the end of the legs cause they annoy them when they're too long), tight band tees, and his classic hoodie he can disappear into the shadowy hood of to sulk.

Elaboration ⬇️

I think it could be fun to explore the way Hiccup has a ton of hand-me-downs and spends a lot of time patching up old clothes, or adding custom painted patches to his bags. Maybe he knows how to sew just from patching/mending. I like that in the movies we see him doing bith heavy work in the forge, and having gentle hands as an artist. I think he'd be good at a ton of different diy skills and put them to practical use with his wardrobe.

In canon, Hiccup does have a lot of leftist and punk ideology; The Edge is literally equal-ownership equal-imput everyone else just decides he runs the show. And he literally changes the dominant mindset of the society he lives in to better the life of both his people and the ones they've been at war with for decades. Hes pretty punk... but I don't see him going so far aesthetically as to be a full Spiky Punk TM. He's always on the move, working on something, or chilling outside with Toothless, so I think a more casual comfortable style suits him. Though I do think he would like jackets with extra straps and buckles on the pockets and stuff, and maybe a good belt bag + leatherman combo. Totally the type to always have a pocket knife. He'd paint himself patches and slap a few of em on his bags, coats, maybe over that burn hole in his jeans that's been annoying him. He'd favor practicality over aesthetic, but he still has a sense of style. As he gets older he probably leans into the edgier style, wearing more black and red combos, more strappy belts/coats/bags, and even gets a few tattoos. But I do see him as a grungey earthy engineering guy with comfy, often oversized silhouettes.

Jack I could see being super impulsive and latching onto pop culture; something emos were notorious for. I, personally, was clamoring for a branded tee shirt the moment I deemed a band good enough to youtube->mp3 to my ipod. I could see Jack doing that kind of thing, and latching onto this misunderstood invisible-yet-visibly-different identity. He probably favors dark blue, brown, and black. Deffinitely the type to get on the colored jeans trend when it hit. Maybe he even doodles little swirling patterns on his clothes when he's bored- an adhd habit I know all too well.

Without being, yanno, dead, Jack's Different Look would probably come just from him wanting to express himself. He feels isolated and finds it hard to make lasting friends because when people *do* notice him, they tend to see him more as a silly little jester than a person worth getting to know. He copes with humor and trying to get attention every now and again but ends up with a closer knit group of oddballs. He's good with kids, of course, and tends to take on a cool-big-brother to anyone in need of one. All of this playing into this casual and easy-going but edgy, kinda emo look. He probably listens to sad emo music while sitting on a roof, staring at the moon, contemplating his purpose in life. He pretty much does that in his movie so it isn't much of a stretch lol.

Anyways, feel free ro give your 2 cents and build onto or off of this as you please, I'm just brainstorming I guess. Thinkin aloud... visually. I tend to like psychoanalyzing characters and it's interesting to me to think of Hic & Jack's canon portrayals and what they would mean in a modern-human AU.

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Hear me out I am very high from a edible rn but HEAR ME OUT DUDE

so we all know Chris Evans and his absolute slutty build like cmon he literally was nicknamed the human dorito bc slutty waist

Anyways thinking about that one promo pic of Chris in the cap suit with his back turned to the camera and his ass is just perfect ANYWAYS FR THIS TIME

Thinking about stucky but not like dating but Bucky being obsessed with Steve’s absolutely slutty figure and once the two get close to being fully retired Steve gets bigger as he slowly grows accustomed to taking it easy for once. but not exactly just fatter everything is the same but somehow softer and bigger. His thighs spread out more when he sits his chest is massive not quite defined pecs but far from being flabby moobs they’re just huge, his abs are long gone but he doesn’t have a round gut (Atleast when he’s empty) and the best part that makes bucky go crazy is his love handles , ass, and thighs, all perfectly packed together in one big package that makes Bucky lose his shit. Steves ass has nearly doubled but it’s still a perfect bubble butt, and his thighs have filled out enough to close any gap that might’ve occurred even when he has a wide stance. (Think those really chunky frat boys that manspread and their thighs are still somehow touching) BUT Steve’s suit and most of his wardrobe hasn’t changed so his clothes just accentuate his assets. His thighs and ass taking up most of the room in his pants and they perfectly leave Steve’s bulge completely on display almost like a gift from god to Bucky. Anyways I’m sure if you did add to this you’d be able to express that better than I could! And if you don’t THATS ALSO COOL (pls by no means feel like you have to answer this right away )

THIS HAS VIBES 🤤🤤

You know what kind of vibes? Exhibitionist Captain America vibes from this post by iwritetheweirdstuff

And I assume you're talking about this photo, which I nabbed from forchrisevans

Okay, shit...

Now you just have me thinking about chunky but still super fucking muscular Steve. I’m going off the rails over here, biting and clawing at my enclosure. I don’t think this rambling is actually totally related to your original idea, so just know I love your original idea!

But this reaoly gets me because Steve would be such a fucking classic MAN. Yanno? Big and heavy and robust. He looks like he could take Bucky in his big, beefy arms and rip him apart. He’s healthy. Hefty. Rippling muscles hidden under this layer of pudge.

Yum.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead. Warning for weight gain, muscle chub talk, tight clothes, Bucky being a little creepy by drooling over Steve before they're an item, etc.

Before gaining weight and when he was wearing the title of Captain American so tightly that it was suffocating him to the point that he was unforgiving of himself, never good enough as Steve Rogers, Steve was like a Thoroughbred. A racehorse, smooth and lean, with a single objective. Win. But now that he’s looser with the title and deciding what he wants for himself, more often calling himself a nomad than going by Cap… now he’s gruff, ignoring the rules (ignoring them even more than he did before, which is saying something for a troublemaker like him), and he’s like a Clydesdale. He’s a tank.

A fucking beast.

When he’s running, you get out of the fucking way because of all the mass behind that force. If you let him collide with you at full speed, full force… it ain’t pretty. His feet pound the ground. Jesus wept. These days his chest, belly, and ass shake when he runs, even when his big, big body is wrapped tightly in all that deep, navy-blue Kevlar. The sight just destroys Bucky.

Bucky can’t fucking fight next to him anymore when they’re called in for Avenging every now and again, half-retired as they are. It was bad enough when Steve was that Thoroughbred, rippling lean muscle and a shiny, bright blond head of short hair. Always distracting Bucky. But now it’s worse because Steve is a Clydesdale with this heft to him and his dirty blond hair and dark, thick beard. He’s even letting his body hair grow in, and it’s all Bucky can do to not faint, landing face-first into the deepening cleavage between his robust pecs, inhaling the musk of him. Every time Steve grunts with the effort of punching or kicking or tearing some offending villain to pieces, Bucky swears he feels faint. He has this completely involuntary feral reaction to the burly man he’s become. Hunky. Stocky. Ripped. Hefty. Whatever fucking word there is for the built he’s got going… it makes Bucky’s mouth water.

Of course, Steve’s still only two inches taller - 6’2” to Bucky’s 6’0” - but suddenly he feels a whole foot taller, and he feels twice as wide as Bucky. Those broad shoulders are only made wider, reinforced by the extra protein he’s eating, thickening his muscles and adding soft pudge; his pecs are still high and tight but even more… they’re swollen almost, added to by an irresistible layer of fat that Bucky has the primal urge to bite; the abs he had once upon a time, defined enough to use as a washboard have softened, especially after a hearty meal like a good lumberjack’s breakfast or a caveman’s dinner, just, these big plates with plenty of meat piled onto them, which turn his stomach into this drool-worthy curve, a little belly that sticks around until he somehow manages to digest it all; that fucking ass made even rounder and more shapely to the point that his pants all strain across it, his sweats especially, nearly splitting down the middle whenever he gets out of his comfy recliner; his thighs, oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, they’re ripe, rubbing together and trying to bust outta his jeans, his sweats, even his Captain America uniform.

Bucky has it bad.

If he weren’t so focused on trying to not let his animal out, growling and just fucking tackling Steve to the floor, he would feel terrible for how much he’s sexualizing his best pal. It seems no matter what he’s doing, Bucky’s caveman brain is thinking about how to best peel him out of his too-small clothes. Too tight when he was lean with rippling muscles, barely any body fat on him, and especially too fucking tight now when he has this delicious extra give to him. He looks like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing. Bucky curses his wardrobe at the same time that he would fall to his knees and thank it with his hands pressed together, praying to it. He wants to be there for the day that Steve busts out of it after a heavy, hearty, indulgent dinner.

‘Cause, listen, Bucky’s spank bank is just overflowing these days:

When the most recent battle is done and Steve bends over to pick up a fucking massive slab of concrete, he unintentionally gives Bucky a front-row seat to his thick ass. His curves barely fit in his uniform these days. Honestly, Bucky doesn’t know how he puts that godforsaken, tight-as-hell uniform on by himself anyway. And he doesn’t want to think about it. Not in public! The only way he can imagine it happening is with Steve naked save for a jock strap, alone in his room. First, he steps into the legs, then he works it up his calves, getting it to his thighs where it gets stuck. He’s outgrowing it. It’s a tight fit, but he still fits for now. At least, he fits when he shimmies and wiggles into it. Better than a damn stripper. Moving his body in this unintentionally, totally sexy way. Wiggling. Pulling. Squirming. Even jumping while he’s at it, pulling hard at the thick Kevlar, his biceps bulging - they’re bigger than Bucky’s fucking head now - grunting as he holds his breath, sucking in. Sucking in! His chest expanding without his pudgy, starter belly going anywhere, stubborn and jiggly.

Whenever he bends over, he gives Bucky a show, really. It doesn’t matter where they are...

When he’s bent over looking at the leaky pipe under their kitchen sink, his waist filling more of the open cabinet than it once would have. While he’s down there, his shirt rolls up over his soft little hips, the new weight just beginning to accumulate there. The start of what could be real love handles someday.

When he’s looking through the bottom drawer of the fridge, doing a head count before they head out for groceries. He’s not dressed yet, though, so he doesn’t have a belt to hold his pants up and his sweats slide down the shelf of his ass, displaying just enough of his asscrack for Bucky to feel starved, meaning he’s extra grumpy at having to wander around an overcrowded store. Shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Hungry and horny.

When he’s drawing on the couch and he accidentally lets a pencil fall onto the floor, so he has to get up, but, oops, it looks like it must’ve rolled under the couch so he gets even lower. Onto his knees and forearms. Searching blindly for the pencil… blind to Bucky’s eyes, perving out on how his thighs touch from the back now, his legs getting just as thick as his ass is. And it’s thick.

When he’s doing stretches on their balcony in the morning, breathing in the fresh air, doing some cat-cows, and inadvertently displaying his new belly that’s still rumbling through last night’s dessert. A classic, couple 'a slices of pie and ice cream. Too much pie and ice cream judging by how distended his belly looks.

When they’re getting some of their energy out now that they’re not constantly going out and avenging, half-retired, by sparing with each other in the gym. Sparing, kind of wrestling, too. They’re not trying to be tactical about it, they’re just having fun, being big kids, reminiscent of the days when they’d pull the mattress off the bed and start to play fighting on the floor. But they aren’t kids and Steve isn’t so much smaller than him, so Bucky doesn’t have to focus on finding that perfect balance of holding back just enough where it doesn’t seem like he is but he’s also not at risk of pushing Steve’s frail body too far. Now they can really whale on each other. Which is fun… until it isn’t. Because Bucky is laughing and sweating and actually starting to feel tired, and then he’s pinned, and he’s choking back a moan, sweating harder. Steve is on top of him. Steve is crushing him. Steve’s big, hot chest is against his back - Bucky can feel how he’s sweating through his skintight white t-shirt, his thick pecs squishing against his shoulder blades. Steve’s delightful, chubby, little belly is slotted perfectly into the small of his back. While fighting, Bucky’s shirt has risen up, and apparently, Steve’s has done the same, despite how firmly it had been clinging to his soft middle the last time he dared to sneak a peak because now their sweaty, hot skin is pressed together. Steve’s hairy tummy is tickling him, making Bucky want to squirm. He wants to moan. It’s a good fucking thing he’s face-down with Steve on top of him. He wants more than just to squirm and moan, he wants to hump the floor like an animal because with Steve’s tits pressed to his back and his belly squished to his back, it aligns his crotch right up against his ass. Bucky can feel Steve’s dick on his ass through the thin layers of their sweatpants and underwear. He can feel how heavy it is. And he’s thinking about how Steve’s dick probably blushes a dusky pink and gets wet at the time and how it probably curves a little and gets so thick when he’s hard and… this is where Bucky dies because Steve readjusts himself, making it worse by spreading his killer thighs to either side of Bucky’s legs, practically grinding into him, trapping him between his watermelon-crushing thighs. “Had enough?” Steve teases him with a shit-eating grin. God. Only if the fucker knew.

When Natasha adopts a new, abandoned kitten that she’s named Liho and they go over to play with him at Tasha’s apartment and Steve decides to grin like he does, always breath-taking, his smile the sweetest, most affectionate thing as he lifts Liho up above his head like Simba in the Lion King (yes, they’ve caught up on that modern pop culture reference, thank you very much). Bucky nearly goes cross-eyed, staring at his pecs. His t-shirt clings to his round, heavy tits. With his arms up, it forces his pecs to move up, too. High and plump. Bucky can see every detail of them, he can see every breath he takes, making them heave, and he’s almost able to pick out the tiniest creaking groan of the seams of his shirt screaming under all that pressure. Tasha doesn’t bat an eye, at the treatment Steve is giving her new companion, she just squeezes past Steve in her kitchen (is the apartment that small, or is Steve that big?), flicking one of his hard nipples. The points of them are obvious through the straining, thin fabric. She refills her mug with coffee but she doesn’t take a sip until she reminds Steve that if he wants to see how much more comfortable running can be, he only has to say the word and she’ll show him the magic of sports bras. Everyone can see that he needs it, and he might as well embrace it. They can even get matching ones if he wants. Her smile is razor-sharp, teasing. Bucky nearly chokes on his tongue, imagining the heavy mounds of his tits hoised up higher, giving him even more cleavage than he normally sports. Guh. Bucky wouldn’t survive.

When later during that same day, Steve decides he’s going to lie down on Natasha’s couch as they watch a movie - some Russian production that Tasha’s been telling Bucky about forever (he’s hardly paying attention and it’s Steve’s fault that he’s going to have to watch this again, on his own, during one of his sleepless nights when he can pay attention to it) - and Liho decides that Steve’s his favorite. So, he wanders back over to curl up on his soft chest and belly and starts fucking kneading his plush chest and belly like it’s the comfiest, fluffiest pillow ever. It probably fucking is! And Bucky can’t blame the kitten for purring so loudly - despite Steve’s and Tasha’s amusement at it - Bucky would be no better. He spends the rest of the evening biting the inside of his cheek and trying to banish all the mental images of his own hands kneading and squishing and groping those tits until Steve’s blushing, his mouth open, eyes heavily lidded, sweat beading at his hairline, begging Bucky to move on and touch him somewhere else, anywhere else! His nipples swollen and so hard. Irrestable. Bucky would indulge him… sort of. He would move on. But he’d have to give the same thorough attention to his soft belly, his growing hips, his thick thighs, and his fat ass. His body deserves to be pleasured until he’s out of his mind.

When Steve’s loose and warm, they’re hanging out in some back-alley sports bar in Brooklyn for a game, watching the feed on TV, downing beers and greasy bar food with Sam and some other guys from the VA, and a sip goes down the wrong pipe so Steve has to pound his chest with a closed fist, ending up not coughing but belching loudly. For everyone else, the sound is covered by the rowdy cheers filling the crowded, dimly lit space. But not for Bucky. For Bucky, Steve is the only thing in focus. Steve, with his looser fit shirt disguise, blending in, his baseball cap tugged down low on his forehead, shading his eyes, his beard grown out, thick, and… Bucky can’t take it. His body. The way his belly scrunches up when he sits down, bulging out further. The way his throat moves when he chugs from a long-necked bottle. The way his pecs jiggle when he jumps up excitedly, cheering loudly, and the similar way his belly wobbles at the same time. The way he groans at the end of his beer burp, voice rough from yelling all night and soaked in hoppy, malty richness. The way his thighs spread out over his bar stool, expanding, stressing the seams of his jeans. He’s taking up so much space with his broad shoulders, excitable hand gestures as he talks, and his manspreading. Yet, it’s still not enough. His thighs fill out his tight, dark-wash denim so well that even when he’s manspreading, his thighs still touch. Bucky aches to curl up in his lap and kiss him, feeling his beard tickling his face. He wants the heat of that big, big body underneath him. He wants to feel the hot line of his erection when he grinds down into him - their stomachs pressed together, Steve’s heavy with bloating, greasy, fattening bar appetizers.

Bucky’s spank bank is over-fucking-flowing as Steve starts putting on weight and if Bucky didn’t know better, he would think Steve is doing it to him on purpose, teasing him, trying to get him to jump his bones 😏

[bellewintersroe]

Another idea which is quite angsty is if for example joe having a crush on reader but she choses to be in a relationship with shifty like will he be jealous, angry or happy for them

You honestly send in some of the best ideas, thank you 🥰🥰🥰 can’t wait to write this ! Joe Liebgott reacts to crush!reader being in relationship with Shifty Powers:

Ok first of all I feel like Joe’s feeling for you would never ever be spoken about, like as cocky and confident as he can portray himself to be he’s deeply and secretively sensitive and worried about his feelings not being reciprocated.

your friends for a longggg time through the war and you’re probably blind to his soft spot to you, sure you see he’s a little more gentle with you, but you’d never take this as him having feelings for you?

Anyway I think Joe would be semi blind to you and Shifty at first? Joe is very aware he holds no ownership over you in the slightest, so he’s not all eager eyed searching for competition.

He’s accepted that you’re just his friend, yanno?

Buttttttt, let’s say one day he overhears people teasing you or Shifty and he gets all confused, like, “what the hell ya’ talkin’ about?”

when he finds out you and Shifty kissed- not even that you’re just getting close, he’s momentarily shocked.

you? And Shifty? You and his good friend shifty? Joe doesn’t believe it at first, but he feels his face heating up before anything else, then comes an unsettling feeling in his chest- oh shit he’s jealous.

I don’t think Joe would ever be a bad friend, not to Shifty, so he would NEVER disrespect him for being with you no matter how jealous he feels.

lays I’m his bed overthinking, just staring at the roof. He figures he’s just gonna get over it and ignore his feelings- therefore pushing you away in the process.

He can’t stand the idea of being rude or harsh to Shifty, but he unconsciously nudges the blame onto you and decides it would just be easier to push you away.

you’re right under his nose, grinning and gazing up to Shifty with a glimmer in your eye that Joe has never seen before. That’s what breaks his heart.

I think at first he’d kinda be caught up in jealousy to realise he doesn’t need to be salty, so when you try to talk to him, he kinda goes cold and makes any excuse to end the conversation.

Barely holds eye contact with you, can’t bare to look at you in the eye and not see the same spark that you look at Shifty with.

I imagine Joe physically smacking himself when he realises he’s acting like a dick and his feelings aren’t exactly super covert if he continues to act like this.

Somebody probably calls him a child, Perconte or somebody honest.

I think in some way he’d really see how serious you were about Shifty after he was in the car accident that left him severely wounded. He sees the worry in your eye, and realises it’s not his place to act distant or brash just cos of a stupid crush, you and Shifty actually do work super well together.

Thank god you chose Shifty out of everybody, I don’t think Joe would’ve tolerated them like he would Shifty.

Joe probably does make sure with you it’s all good and he’s treating you right (obviously cos Shifty is an Angel) but just in case.

probably never lets his feelings out, even if you or anybody else have the slightest idea he might be a little jealous, he denies, denies, denies.

his poor little heart, somebody play mini violins cos be really feels bad for himself.