#f!lone

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 14 -- Uncle Leo

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 14 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Size Kink with Uncle Leo x F!Reader

Uncle Leo is literally such a sweetheart 😩 writing for him felt... very much like writing for Fawkes, but that was the opposite of a problem. I just-- This sweet, sappy stuff is my weakness, I swear 😭

I hope you love it!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Size Difference, playing with hair, kisses, touching, cunnilingus, oral sex, supermutant sex, large cock, praise, so much sweetness, creampie.

Words: 4.1k

--

“Do you remember when we first met?”

The ticklish sensation of his fingers in your hair ceased, momentarily, before they resumed braiding the three separate strands together. 

“How could I ever forget? You were so kind and accepting. I will remember your grace in our first meeting for the rest of my days.” 

A smile gleamed in your expression as you leaned your head back and into your partner’s broad chest. Leo was always so warm. Perhaps it was merely a characteristic of all supermutants– you’d never been close enough to another one to determine if that was the case– but you found yourself choosing to believe otherwise. It wasn’t a characteristic of supermutants, but of Leo himself. 

Your Leo. 

“Darling, I love the feel of you against me, but…” 

“Oh, sorry!” You sat back up quickly, feeling his hands immediately return to their place in your hair, massaging over your scalp before running delicately down the strands and continuing to wind them together. 

“No need to apologize, I’m nearly done.” 

"But your shoulder--"

"It didn't pain me, sweet one." He assured you quickly, "Only fussed your braid a bit"

You hummed at that, nodding thoughtfully until you realized that that too, might fiddle with his delicate practice. His gentle movements lulled you into a sleepy bliss, and your eyes couldn't help but fall shut in response.

“Why did you inquire?” Leo’s voice piped up, deep and gravely, but soft with its proximity to you. 

“Hmm?” Your eyes blinked open again, pulling you from your pleasant lull. 

“A-about our meeting. You asked if I remembered.” He pulled a stray strand away from your face as he spoke, guiding it back to meet with the others that he was ponderously wrapping together. 

“Oh, yeah. I was just… I was thinking about what you told me then. About the moon, and how you said you would give it to me.” 

“Would that I could.” Leo piped up quickly, almost sadly, as though it were something that had been weighing over his shoulders all this time. “If I held it, it would be yours in an instant. You more than deserve the heavens in their entirety.” 

A blush crept to the apples of your cheeks, that same smile overtaking your lips at his sweetness. 

What about what he deserves? You couldn’t help but think. All that he’s been through. The struggle, the loneliness, exile, violence and hatred without clear cause… Leo deserves more than I do. 

If only I had more to give him.

“You’re too good for me.” You said with a slight shake of your head, turning it now to press a kiss to the first bit of him you saw. You felt his breath hitch beneath the skin of his chest as your lips made contact. 

“Impossible.” Leo refuted, as you knew he would, and you kissed him again. This time, you rose a bit higher, closing your eyes as you savored the heat beneath your lips, as you turned your whole body to face him. 

The mattress groaned beneath you in protest, as Leo allowed himself to fall steadily back against the pillows with you overtop him. A breathy laugh escaped the mutant then, as one hand went to steady you over his significant bulk. 

“L-Lone, what has inspired this?” 

“You, Leo.” You said against him, mouth still roaming the broad expanse of his muscular chest. 

He truly was a wonder to behold. So much strength, the capacity for that same ruthless tenacity the rest of his kind seemed to show, and yet… It held no interest for your Leo. 

In fact, it very nearly disgusted him. 

The thought of using his strength for violence instead of helping others, of allowing his emotions to boil over, of letting anger seep out and control his every move, like it seemed to with his brothers... Knowing him as you do, that thought was absurd to even consider.

If only that could be the case for everyone he meets. 

He’d still returned to you, even after humans had fired upon him, beaten him, nearly killed him in their blind hatred for what they clearly just didn’t understand, and yet… 

“The way you still trust me.” You murmured against him, almost in a frenzy now, as your hands smoothed over his skin to wrap carefully about his shoulders, as your lips met his neck and your legs straddled the wideness of his waist. “After all that people have done to you. The way you’re still so kind.” 

His breath picked up, causing your entire body to rise and fall with the rhythm of it as you lay sprawled overtop him.  

“You deserve to be shown that same love.”

You reached his jaw now, dragging your bottom lip over the hardness of it as your warm breath spilled against his face. 

“That same trust and affection that you give to me.” 

Finally, you ended at his mouth, kissing him there, unrushed and unabashed, as you kneaded over his phantom lips. Leo responded in kind, never one to be impolite, as he tilted his head to increase the pressure, allowing your taste to wash over him in full. 

Strong hands wrapped around your body, gentle but firm in the way he kept you anchored to him. His mouth, as with many things, took some getting used to. The largeness of it in comparison, his distinct lack of lips making it difficult for the action to be anything but… mildly lewd, since his tongue was undoubtedly the softest bit of him for you to make contact with. 

Leo was always respectful of you though, he had been from the start... almost frustratingly so. 

He allowed you to lead this time too, to coax his tongue to move against yours as your lips caressed him, as your hands moved upwards to hold his face tenderly. Heavy breaths mixed between you as your nose strained to pull in enough oxygen to sate you, but in the end, you had to back away from the blissful contact. 

“I…” Leo tried, pulling in huge breaths as his body grew all the warmer beneath you, “I would give you anything. Everything I have and all that I am, Lone.” 

“I know.” Your soft voice spilled from between swollen lips, one hand stroking over his cheekbone with profound softness. “I know you would, sweet one, but you don’t have to.”

His brows twitched upwards in surprise at that, but you continued too quickly for the confusion to linger. 

“All I want is you.” 

A slight gasp piled into his lungs, and then your lips were on him again. Your arms clasped with each other around the back of his neck, your closeness threatening to subdue him, but Leo couldn’t seem to pay that fact any less mind. Both of his arms clasped the same such way about your whole body, pressing your chests together until your heartbeats could hear one another, until they could plan to beat in sync. 

The whole of your bodies seemed to agree with that sentiment, you noted subconsciously, as Leo began to squirm restlessly beneath you, as– at that same time– your hips began a subtle grinding motion against his stomach. Long moments passed, and you felt your arousal begin to leak out of you and soak into your underwear. 

It was all so unrushed, so savory in nature, the way your mouths explored one another. Yours continued to wander from the usual place, pressing sweet kisses to his jaw, his cheeks, his throat, delighting in every venture as he sighed out his obvious pleasure. 

“Lone…” Your name escaped him like that of a prayer, spoken only to the most respected, the most revered. 

You could only hum in response, your lips dreadfully busy elsewhere. 

“This night…” You felt his throat contract beneath your lips as he gulped, and that managed to draw your attention away, if only for a moment.

“Yes?” You encouraged. 

“W-what, may I ask, did you have in mind for us?” 

“A night in, Leo. You’re still recovering, after all.” Somber hands drew gentle lines down one shoulder, the one you’d been cautious not to disturb all through today, and all this past week. 

You’d never imagined having to hide from members of your own kind this way… Never understood why they refused to listen, even when Leo was so obviously an ally. 

And more…

Perhaps that’s why those men had fired upon us that evening. Afraid again of what they don’t understand.

As though it were anyone’s business but ours.

They’d been sitting. Just sitting around their shared fire. Lone had leaned her head against his arm in tiredness… and these strangers had gone and nearly shot the other one off. 

To save her. 

Fucking idiots. 

“With your care, I admit, I’m feeling much better.” 

Leo's hand swiped your hair behind one ear, an overwhelming fondness pouring from his touch and expression both. 

“Oh?” 

Your smaller hand grasped to his, keeping it in place so you could press your lips to that too. He was looking at you so intently, but even if he hadn’t been, the mutant undoubtedly would’ve felt your grin through your lips upon him. 

It was rife with mischief. 

“Feeling good enough for…” You purposefully trailed off, allowing him to finish the inquiry within his own mind. It was evident enough that he did as you suspected, what with the way his breath caught and his hand tensed in your grip. 

It was as though the pair of you had never shared a bed, spent a night writhing over the sheets, utterly taken with one another. 

His modesty though did have its perks, for each time with him felt new, felt that anticipatory excitement of the first time all over again. 

“Yes… Though, only if that is what you wish.”

“It’s what I wish.” You said easily, already nodding before he could even finish his sentence. 

A rare sound left him then, one that had your eyes hazy and your stomach clenching– a growl, from deep within his chest. Then Leo was pulling you to him, your legs straddling his chest now as his giant hands pawed over the fabric of your sleep shirt, as he set his mouth over your neck and chest, just the way you had upon him. 

You answered his fervor with a gasp, your hands already moving to pull your garment off over your head in a couple swift movements. Now, you were sure things would move quickly, that his arousal and yours would send the both of you into a frenzy– especially after the couple weeks of playing it safe out in the wastes and taking it easy on his body with the injuries. You ached for him, for this as though it really were the first time all over again. 

Leo had more patience though. 

Instead of setting his mouth upon your chest just as soon as it was bared to him, Leo pulled back, looking on with wide, blown-out eyes as though he were seeing you anew. Any pain from his injuries was completely forgotten, as Leo brushed both hands over the twin swells of your breasts, the pads of his thumbs trailing gently over your nipples in their exploration of you. 

This was the first bit of evidence proving this wasn’t your first time together. His knowledge of what you craved, the confidence in which he reached out, in which he trailed his hands over you… The first time had taken more coaxing, more reassurance, but this… This was a man who knew how to please you, who craved it, beyond all things. 

A moan left you as the pressure of his hands increased ever so slightly, as the roughened pads of his fingers drew tingling circles over your softness. 

“Divine, Lone.” Your partner breathed out, before his hands trailed down your sides, until his fingers were twiddling over the hem of your pants. 

“If I should ask for more… Would you look down on me?” 

“No, Leo. God, no.” 

His hint became apparent to you immediately, and a bolt of anticipation shot up your spine. 

It took some maneuvering, but soon you were fully bare to him, pants and underwear both added to the growing pile of fabric on the floor. 

His breath was so heavy now, it felt like you were on the teetering bow of a ship at sea, your body roiling with the rhythm of the waves. 

“Rest your sweetness upon me, dear one. If you would.” 

Your skin flushed at his request, but you did as his flowery command bid you. With the help of Leo’s supporting grasp, you hauled your hips to hover over his face, before slowly easing down until your core made contact with the warmth of his mouth. 

A groan left him then, vibrating up through the whole of your body until you felt your head automatically fall back in pleasure. His large hands tightened their grip on either of your thighs, his fingers almost able to wrap entirely around them with the pressure. 

“Easy, Leo.” You half-gasped, half-chuckled out, feeling your hips automatically buck from the sensation of his mouth against you, of his hands’ firm grasp. 

Though he didn’t answer with his words– and there was good reason for that– his hands loosened a bit, and he began a slow rhythm of his tongue over the entirety of your folds. Already, you felt your slickness draining out of you with increased vigor, met by your partner’s eager tongue. Your hands went to his to balance yourself, as your hips automatically began to grind down into him, and another sound akin to a growl escaped from his barrel chest. 

“Feels so good.” You urged him onwards– as if he needed any further indication to continue his blissful actions– and Leo’s fervor only grew hotter. The whole of his mouth set upon you, his tongue rolling against your entrance, gathering your growing slickness, while what little was there of his lips sucked over your folds, his teeth careful, but definitely present as they periodically scraped over your most sensitive places. 

His passions had you nearly toppling with the intensity of them, your hands holding more and more firmly to his with every passing moment as you felt yourself pulse and gush out your pleasure against him.

A moan left you, not only at the sensations he was driving into you, but also at that look upon his face as you chanced a glance downwards… He might as well have been drunk, with the way your pleasure so obviously sated him, with the way it left him sodden and giddy and aching for more. Leo’s brows were furrowed, his mouth wide and undulating, pulling everything he could from you, and then some, and with a shout of his name, you were already coming undone. 

His grip held firm as your legs shook, as you writhed in his grasp and huffed out your release overtop him. Leo did not relent though; not fully, as his phantom lips still made impassioned love to your folds.

Finally, your hands were squeezing his with a plea to cease, your whine acting as further support to your wordless request as the last few tremors of ecstasy surged through your body. 

Leo understood though, and soon enough, you found yourself lying flat on the firm mattress as he hovered over your worn body. 

“Alright, my love?” 

A giddy smile invaded your expression before any words could properly form. A nod sufficed, and Leo’s own grin followed not a moment later. 

“Have I told you that you are divine?” 

Another nod, this time with a weak little chuckle attached. 

“Well, then you know how much I mean it…” 

One chaste kiss pressed to your lips, warm and wet and tasting of your sweetness before Leo laid beside you. His fingers trailed up one arm distractedly as he laid on his good side, still facing you. His eyes were brimming with wonder, with affection you’d only ever let yourself dream of growing up. 

And now it’s reality… 

You turned to face him, despite your fatigue, and pulled his face to yours again. Leo hummed through the contact, and your gut gave an eager little roll beneath your skin. 

Not finished yet, it would seem. 

“Lone?” Leo’s soft voice breathed as you pulled away. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a question. You could see what he intended to ask in his eyes alone, and you’d already made up your mind. 

“Would you like to… continue?” 

“Yes.” You reiterated, this time with another eager nod of your head. 

“If you are fatigued, I understand–”

“Leo.” 

He ceased, merely blinking. 

“I want you, love.” 

Now, it was him who gave you a nod. His jaw was clenched tightly, showcasing the way he was forcing himself to hold back. 

The closest Leo came to his brothers’ unbridled emotions was when he was alone with you. 

His passion shone in his eyes, his want seemingly bleeding from his very skin as he set his hands upon you, and dragged you down until your hips met the foot of the bed. The mattress surged below his weight as he stepped away, only to return to the open space between your legs, where they dangled over the edge of the bed. His body towered over you, well within your eager line of sight as he pulled at the string on his shorts. It almost took effort, then, to pull the waistband outwards and around his straining erection, but when he was free of them, he stepped forward, filling that last space between your bodies. 

“Lone?” He inquired again, his voice husky, but still restrained. 

“Please, Leo,” You begged for him, knowing the way it made his knees shake, that it shot arousal straight to that substantial member straining between his legs. “I need you now.” 

“S-shall I prepare you?” 

Your head shook firmly, as certain as anything. 

“You did." You found your body unwittingly scooching forward for emphasis. "Just want you in me. Now.” 

His body wavered then, like the weight of your words had shoved against him. 

“B-but, love, what if I injure–” 

“You won’t, Leo. Please. I promise, if it hurts I’ll tell you.” 

He still looked a little uncertain, but the way your hips bucked into the air, the way you squirmed and your hands gripped onto the bedsheets in clear preparation had his morals in a chokehold. 

Does he do as you say, or as he thinks you need? 

You could see the war between his temples, but ultimately, one side won out. 

Leo trusted you. He trusted you to know yourself even better than he did, and so, the resolve of his decision was plain, as he guided your hips forward that last little bit, and pressed the searing tip of his cock to your entrance.

You pulled your legs up further on the mattress at the feeling, giving him ample room to press forward, and steadily, he did.

Leo's eyes locked to your expression, to your teeth setting on your bottom lip, your eyebrows creasing together, your forehead dotting with sweat, and as slowly as the mutant dared, he eased the entirety of his cockhead inside. His breaths were leaving him in grunts, yours in whines, as he began to pulse his hips forward in small movements.

It went this way every time. Slowly, carefully, he would press in, after he prepared you, always. Yet... It never seemed to lessen the shock of his largeness. A burning pressure accompanied his growing presence within you, and your hands gripped all the tighter to the bedsheets below.

"So well..." Leo huffed, his eyes almost fully black with his arousal, "Doing so well for me. Every time... You amaze me."

There was no breath for a response, not with the way his hips were drawing back and gently surging forward in equal measure, not as you began to glimpse the evidence of his member's depth through the expanding skin of your belly.

Even with the time you've spent together, the collective hours of this over the months, still, your body had the gall to act surprised at the way it was meant to open for him. You could hardly breathe for the pressure against your lungs, your organs protesting at the way they had to shove aside to let him in, to welcome him, the way your pussy tended to do so easily by comparison.

"Feel you so deep, love." Was all you could manage, and even that was said at the improper octave.

"Would you like me to continue?"

"Mmhm." You ground your hips against him to punctuate your affirmation, driving him in further still.

"V-very well," Leo's breaths left in heavy pants as his pace picked up.

You felt the delicious drag of his textured skin against your sensitive walls, every vein and scar easily detectible with your closeness, with the way you wrapped about him so tightly.

"I want..." A moan left you instead of the intended words, pleasure bursting behind your eyes as the head of his cock hit that soft, special spot deep within.

"Tell me." Leo commanded, his voice rough enough to send chills up your spine.

"Your hands, love. Want you to touch me, please."

A sigh of bliss met the air at your words, and Leo's hips gave an involuntary jolt that made you gasp beneath him.

"Would that I could never cease to do just that."

Your back arched at your partner's sudden fervor, as he hauled you ever closer, as his hipbones met the pliable skin of your ass and his hands delved down your body. His waist pressed to yours, his fingers trailing reverent shapes over your skin, kneading at your breasts, tickling at your throat, until you felt yourself shudder from his touch.

His cock gave an answering pulse within you, and you heard the strain of it catching in your partner's throat.

Just as you were becoming accustomed to the feel of his weight pressing over you, Leo pulled back, somehow maintaining the careful rhythm of his thrusts all throughout, despite the increasing evidence of his impending release.

"Ple--"

Your begging was easily cut short, as one hand smoothed down your body, finding it's destination peeking out from between your folds, straining to reach his touch. He answered the call, pressing two large fingers over your clit and rubbing until stars were bursting all around you, until your walls-- stretched as they were-- clenched even tighter around him.

"Lone... my love, I..."

Leo was already half gone as he tried to warn you, his pace quickening, his resolve failing him as his hesitancy was forced from his mind with the all-consuming bliss threatening to spill over.

"Yes, Leo, please. You deserve this love, you--"

His stuttering pace silenced you, his hips jerking and hands clenching against the mattress and flexing over your clit as his cock swelled, expanding your walls almost to the damn breaking point, before finally, he exploded deep within.

A series of frantic, throaty grunts escaped him in his euphoric climax, instantly spurring your own at the feel of that overwhelming heat filling you to the brim.

Your body trembled beneath his, as Leo delivered the last few thrusts, wringing everything within him, before slowly pulling out. Your breath caught at the way he scraped against your oversensitive walls on the way out, until you felt a great emptiness where he'd been, filled only with the remnants of his spend as it began to leak out of you.

"The most divine creature to exist here..." Leo gently ran his hand over the skin of your stomach, then down to drag over your thigh, before it fell from you completely. "What is bliss, if not you, my dear? What name could it possibly carry, but yours?"

"Leo..." Your voice choked out, half from fatigue and half from emotion.

The bed creaked and dipped as Leo's weight settled beside you, and you felt the comfort of his arm wrap around your body again, pulling you back into the place you felt safest.

His chest poured heat out over your clammy skin as he held you close, and you felt as though you could melt here, in his arms.

"I love you..." Left you, spilled out against the skin over his heart, and though it was sad to say, you were asleep before you could hear his inevitable response.

[marvelouslizzie]

A Lonely Night

summary: Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

word count: 1.9K

warnings: 18+, masturbation (fingering, vibrator use), fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n 

A/N: I actually planned this as a 3 part story where we see his POV as well. I hope to write the remaining 2 parts. I hope my inspiration lasts.

The gif represents the smile that ruined the reader. Who can blame her?

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing on such short notice. You're a lifesaver!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

You don’t know how you ended up here. You had no intention of doing something like this. You didn’t intend to think about sex at all, especially not while your roommate is home. But when you saw his charming smile and those shiny blue eyes, you felt a jolt of electricity running through your body. It somehow felt like a 0.5-millisecond orgasm. It doesn’t matter how short it was, though, because you can feel the dampness of your panties, so you have no other choice but do something about it.

The TV is on, and it sounds like Bucky is watching the news. That’s not the sexiest thing to hear while touching yourself, yet you are grateful there’s something that covers the noises you make. It’s not like you are a really loud person. Especially not while touching yourself, but this time… You feel there’s something different about this time. The way your body responds to your own touch is not something you’ve experienced before. Neither is the wetness that is dripping out of you. It’s like your body is desperate for this. Desperate for attention and release.

You keep rubbing your pussy, touching all the different spots that make yourself feel good, and your whole body starts to shake, your ears buzzing, and your mind completely blank except for the image of Bucky. His smile and those blue eyes... You want him to be on top of you, touching you the way you like it, fingering you, telling you to be a good girl for him, and making you come over and over again. Then when you think it’s over you want him to push himself inside you, making your abused pussy clench with need. You can imagine how tired you would feel yet how wonderful it would be to finally have him inside you. He would start slowly, making you ask for it. You would either beg him to give you a break because you can’t come one more time or beg him to go harder, faster so you can just lose yourself. The thought of him consumes you while you are coming. It’s such a sweet orgasm, not all-consuming. It feels like you are floating in the air. So good. Exactly what you needed. What you don’t expect is how long it lasts. 

You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Self-pleasuring is something you do often, but it never felt this good. Normally you would be done by now: already reached the top and breathing heavily while enjoying your after-glow, but this time it’s like your body wants even more. You can’t stop touching yourself. It just doesn’t stop feeling good, no overstimulation. At least not yet.

So if your body wants more, you are going to give it more. You will continue until you feel absolutely satisfied. That’s why you keep touching yourself, testing what feels the best and using your wetness. You haven’t used an ounce of lube since you started and yet your fingers are unbelievably sticky. You can’t help yourself but raise on your elbows and look at your pussy. You move your fingers apart and the wetness creates a bridge between them.

“Oh my god…”

He just gave you the most charming smile on the face of the earth. Nothing more. Why are you so freaking wet?

You can actually think of a couple of reasons. One of them is not having sex for a while. You don’t remember when was the last time. You can only remember it wasn’t impressive so you came home and took your vibrator out and rode it until you collapsed on the bed, finally feeling satisfied enough to sleep. Since then, you either used your fingers or your vibrator to get off, and your body needed more. A lot more.

The other reason is, your growing crush on Bucky. You knew this would be a problem when you decided to be roommates with him, yet it didn’t stop you. It’s delightful to see his handsome face every day, but it’s also torture. Seeing him getting out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist, or half naked while working out… It’s impossible not to get a crush. And on top of that, he’s super kind. Always considering you. He doesn’t sleep much, you know that, but he never makes any noise at night. Never disturbs you. Never eats your food. He never even brought someone over. At least not yet. You are dreading the day that might happen. It will hurt so badly, and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. Maybe that will help you get over your silly crush. But truth be told, you’d rather have it forever than hear him fucking someone else.

You keep rubbing yourself, over and over again until your head is thrown back. There’s this hunger building inside you. God, you feel like begging even though you are the one touching yourself.

“Please, please, please…” You try to be as quiet as possible. It’s just a whisper.

“I really need it, please…”

You do. You really do. You need to come so hard that you can’t breathe. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then you will feel satisfied. Your fingers start working even faster. You can feel your second orgasm, but there’s something on the back of your mind that’s holding you back. The thought of Bucky finding you like this. You don’t want that to happen. So you are holding back a little. You can’t risk it, can you? Otherwise, you won’t be able to look at him. You keep rubbing different spots trying to find the best one for this orgasm. Nothing works until you hear a sound from the living room. Probably Bucky moving around in the apartment. Somehow that sets you off. Your orgasm comes crashing in, taking your breath away while you silently keep touching yourself. You keep going until you can’t anymore. You feel buzzed, breathing heavily. That might be the best orgasm you had lately. You take a deep breath in, and then out. The thought of him catching you was terrifying yet you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. Can you be actually terrified and excited at the same time? If so, that’s exactly how you felt.

You lay there, in the comfort of your bed, and try to collect your mind. A part of you feels guilty because of what you’ve just done. Not the masturbation part, but pleasuring yourself at the thought of Bucky because he has no idea. He probably never even looked at you like that. Still, you can’t help but feel attraction, and it’s not just a physical thing. His personality is making everything worse. If he was just an asshole, everything would be easier, but he had to be the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. So, it’s his fault if you are masturbating to the thought of him, right? He’s just too perfect.

You breathe in and out, trying to deal with the guilt and your racing thoughts. Normally, this would be more than enough. Two back-to-back orgasms and the second one was so fucking intense yet you can still feel the need. It’s right there. Your core is silently begging while your wetness keeps dripping out of you. When you close your eyes and imagine Bucky pushing himself inside you, your muscles contract and your whole body begs for more.

Sighing, you open your bedside drawer. Here it is, your beloved vibrator. You close the drawer and look at it for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if you should really do this. He’s still in the living room, you can still hear the TV. It’s possible you might get caught, yet the hunger inside you takes over any rational thought. 

After a couple of seconds, you finally give in. Slowly, you push the vibrator inside you and your pussy clenches around it. Even without moving or turning it on, it feels amazing. The feeling of being full… You missed it so much. Then you start to move it in and out, slowly. You close your eyes and imagine it’s a real cock inside you, but it’s hard to get lost in that thought. The texture of the vibrator is far from realistic and the size isn’t that impressive. When that doesn’t work out, you turn it on and let yourself feel it. It’s better. Much better but still not enough. 

“God…” You complain silently while changing your position. You flip around and go on all fours, pushing your ass out as much as you can, the way you would do during sex. That finally hits the spot. You grab your pillow with haste and push your face into it, trying to cover any noise you might make.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your muffled moans can’t reach Bucky. He’s watching the TV after all.

“Yess, right there.” The words leave your lips before you are able to process them. Where are these words coming from? Who are you talking to? Is it a fantasy? You don’t know, but it feels good to let it out.

“Oh please, fuck me.” You try to push all the rational thoughts aside. It’s not the time for that.

“Fuck me, daddy, please.” You close your eyes and imagine Bucky again. Him taking his sweet time, edging you until you beg for release. You would give anything, absolutely anything to do this with him.

“Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder,” you mumble and then turn and press the vibration button again. It starts to pulse faster inside you and you feel like there is no air in your lungs anymore. You choke for a second, raising your head up from the pillow, and take a deep breath while your orgasm rips you apart. It’s nothing like you’ve experienced before. A part of your brain thinks you’re unlocking another level of orgasm while the other part is trying to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” You let your head fall back on the pillow as you keep imagining Bucky. You have no idea how long your orgasm actually lasts. It’s definitely the longest one you’ve ever had. When your pussy starts to feel too sensitive you take out the vibrator and turn it off. 

Finally, you are feeling satisfied. You place the vibrator on top of your nightstand while you get on your back again. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you notice the lack of TV noise.

Shit.

Why did he turn the TV off? And more important, when? You look at the clock on the wall in front of you and the news program is not over yet. Did he hear you? 

God, please... Don’t let that happen.

You quickly stand up, putting your clothes back on quickly, and then you open the door as carefully as possible. The living room is empty. All you can hear is the shower running.

Thank god!

Bucky is taking a shower. So even with no TV on, he couldn’t have possibly heard you. The sound of the water would cover your moans, right? You hope so at least.

You go back to your room, clueless about the fact that Bucky heard everything, how he paid attention to every single detail, trying to memorize how you sound while coming. How you moan, how you rub yourself, and how needy you are.

Feeling like a creep, he jumped in the shower. Clearly, you were imagining someone else, and he had no right to listen to something as private as this. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop imaging how it would be the one that you call daddy. And he definitely couldn't stop his left hand from wrapping around his cock.

[runawaykidderek]

Lil Wayne Vibe Magazine Shoot 11/01/2007

[forsoobado137]

I headcanon that America's boss made him go to highschool/college in the 20th century. And it makes me kinda sad because imagine America at the graduation ceremony seeing everyone have their families celebrate and cheer and he's just like 🧍‍♂️

[celestialrealms]

gotta be one of the funniest genres of barbatos scenes

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star fashion -> every marjan outfit

↳ 5.01

[charlieconwayy]

Top 50 OTPs of All Time ☆ #44. Naomi Campbell & Emily Fitch

"I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I think I was twelve. It took me three years to pluck up the courage to speak to you. And I was so scared about the way I felt, you know, loving a girl, so I learned how to become a sarcastic bitch to kind of feel normal. I screwed guys to make it go away, but it didn’t work. When we got together it scared the shit out of me. Because you were the one person who could ruin my life. I pushed you away. I made you think things were your fault. But really I was just terrified of pain. I screwed that girl, Sophia, to kind of spite you for having that hold on me, and I’m a total fucking coward because I got these… these tickets to Goa for us three months ago, but I, I couldn’t stand… I didn’t want to be a slave to the way I feel about you. Can you understand? You were trying to punish me back and it’s horrible. It’s so horrible, because really, I’d die for you. I love you. I love you so much it’s killing me."

[the-skys-gone-out]

godspeed you! black emperor, f#a#∞ (1997)

[indilaras]

onwards, to the next future

ID: a drawing of Cure Supreme and Cure Puka from Precure All Stars F. They're jumping forward to the canvas left, holding hands and smiling at each other. Puka has her free hand held up to her chest and her bunny ears trailing behind them both. Supreme has her free hand to her waist, her face in profile. Bright turquoise magic sparkles surround them, and the background is a blue sky with soft clouds. End ID.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 22 -- Harold/Bob

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober 2023, Day 22 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don’t interact.

Exhibitionism with Harold/Bob x F!Reader

I...

This... This needed to be like 5k words longer but I didn't have time for that so here's a snippet of a much larger idea than was meant for kinktober

Anyway though, Harold is a lovely, lovely man who made me feel so many sad things when I played FO3 as a kid. Ugh, he's SUCH a great character. Aaaaand... kinda challenging to write for, idea-wise 😅 ngl, but hopefully y'all love this one!

Maybe when I have spare time one day (😂😭) I'll return and add some more to this!

Here is the link to my  Kinktober 2023 Event List so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Exhibitionism (kinda sorta), kissing, confessions, fantasies, forbidden love, trees, wood, um... dry humping, self actualization. TW for suicidal thoughts!

Words: 3.8k

*note: Lone and Branchtender Cypress are the same person*

--

The newest branchtender had never been shy. 

Once you became privy to the freedoms that such a place as this could offer you, when you saw the green, when you met the one… Harold, his brilliance, his sacrifice, when you saw the legacy he would leave in his wake… How could you ever have left? 

You weren't coy about your feelings of appreciation for the Oasis deity, nor your want to help, and you certainly didn't shy away from ruffling some feathers, as it were.

It was among the many numerous things that he truly appreciated about you in return.

Harold’s eyes couldn’t shift too far from their allotted position, nestled frustratingly in Bob’s trunk as they were, but you always managed to make him wish– more zealously than usual– that he could move of his own accord. That he could… maybe, just sort of… touch you? 

Yes, he’d like that very much. 

It’d been years since Harold felt another person, since someone reached out to touch him in earnest. Even Bob hadn’t felt the prod of a hand recently, since the rules had changed, since the people had caught wind of Harold's more recent… thoughts. 

Maybe I wouldn’t want to be gone if there were more who treated me like you do.

Like a person. 

He remembered distinctly the first time the two of you met, when you’d told him why you wanted to become a branchtender, when you had to convince him to let you into Oasis permanently. It hadn’t taken much, no, because when you reached out and shook his branch like it was his hand, when you looked him in the eye and smiled your broad smile, it brought back memories of genuine personhood that he hadn't felt since... what, a hundred years or so ago? Even when your touch lingered for a moment, even when Tree Father Birch had told you not to, when Harold knew how the others feared to touch him, that they might hinder his spread, or expand it– depending on who you asked-- even through all of that uncertainty, you'd only pulled away when Harold had said it was alright.

You held no such notions as the others, no such fear, apparently. Especially not now. 

Harold knew you weren’t popular among the Treeminders, the Branchtenders, even the Bloomseer wished not to permit you in Harold’s grove. But he favored you, that much was clear to everyone in Oasis. 

“I can speak to the others…” You told him, sitting on the root structure that was once his arm, gazing upon his face without flinching. 

You never flinched away from his visage, nor did you altogether refuse to look upon his face, as a few of the Oasis-goers had decided was respectful. 

To him it was… How could it not be dehumanizing?

“Maybe get them to lighten up. To see you like I do, Harold. Then you wouldn’t be alone in here so often, maybe they could even… I don’t know, touch you? L-like I did that first time, you know?” 

Harold hummed, his eyes downcast. 

“I have you.” He said, quietly. Undecided if he wanted to say it aloud at all, but sometimes Bob shoved the thoughts right out so they wouldn't take up space. 

At least, he thought it was Bob doing that. 

“Yes.” You said, and your hand rubbed over a knot in his bark– Bob’s bark. “But am I enough? I can’t… Harold, I can’t be all that’s making you want to, well, you know… Stay here.” 

“But you are. Now.” 

He saw your lip give a small tremble, before you hid it with a grin. Your eyes though… they still held that sadness. 

“That’s sweet, but it's not healthy, Harold. There needs to be more.” 

He made a pouty sound at that. 

Says who?

It was nice to have even one thing to stick around here for. Couldn’t you see that? That you already did the impossible?

“I want to know something.” Your soft voice prompted him, just as one small hand reached to brush over the bark that was once his cheek. You had to strain your arm to do it, had to sit all the way up, but oh, how he wished with everything he had that he could lean into it, feel beyond what Bob allowed him to of your soft hand. 

“Hm?” 

“Tree Father and Tree Mother, they both have these ideas of what we should do with you, how we should... use you and Bob’s resources to either change the wasteland or to keep you and us safe and secret.”

He tried nodding in understanding, but all he could manipulate were his eyes. 

It didn't have the same effect, he feared.

“Well…" You continued, "They keep talking about what to do with you, like you’re… a resource and not a person.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, frankly, that’s shitty.” 

He rumbled out a laugh, feeling Bob’s topmost branches tremble slightly with the action. 

“Harold.” You said his name so sweetly, softly, like friends speak to each other, like… Like he imagined he’d want to speak to the people he loved. If he’d ever had those. 

It was hard to remember. 

“Hon, what do you want?” Your hand was still firmly on his cheek. He could feel heat permeating the layer of bark there. “I know you sort of told me the day we met, but… It seems like that’s– maybe, that’s changed?” 

“Yes.” He said, with a decisiveness he didn’t intend, but was there all the same. “It has changed. Now… The others, they can do what they please with me and Bob.”

“But–” You tried, pulling your hand away like he’d prodded you with a thorn. 

“I want you.” He finished, that decisiveness never wavering, though… despite the certainty, it did surprise him.

Never… confessed anything like this before. Not to anyone. 

That… well, that I can remember.  

Your expression stayed soft, safe, non judgmental, non accusatory, as your eyes darted back and forth, ensuring there was truth in both of his before speaking your response. 

“Harold… You’re not just saying this… Well, because I’m the only one who speaks to you like this, right? I don’t want this– these feelings you’re telling me you have, to just come from my being nice to you. That’s not fair either.” 

You held eye contact with him all the while, genuine sympathy and curiosity shining there. 

How could you think his feelings were just… by default? 

To him, anyway, it was obvious. 

Other Treeminders, branchtenders, had loved him before, been kind to him, revered him, even. But always because of Bob. What Bob allowed him to become, and maybe… maybe that’s what had drawn you to him at first as well, but now… It was Harold you stayed for, wasn’t it?

With the way you spoke his name, looked into his eyes, asked him about his wants, his needs… how could it not be him?

“Weeks.” He said, and you cocked your head slightly. 

He couldn’t help his hard-to-read grin. 

“We’ve been talking all that time. You’re interesting, kind, see me as human, yes. But more.” 

“More?” You urged him, and Harold couldn’t dream of denying you. 

“See me as a human you can connect to. We talk about many things, and all of them are interesting, so many things we have in common. Even with our… differences.” 

A small smile glowed in your eyes , and softened your expression further. Harold’s gaze never wavered, though you knew the words left him with effort, both physical and emotional.

“I want you so I may talk with you, to have your company.” 

“You will.” You answered so hastily, even tilting forward from where you sat in the curve of what used to be his right arm, almost toppling out of it. 

He tried to catch you, but Bob held firm to his limbs. As he always did. 

With you, he could almost forget. 

“You will, Harold.” You saved yourself from falling, bracing your arm against the main section of his trunk. “I’m not going anywhere, I… I love talking to you, too.” 

Maybe to save face from falling off of him, or maybe because you just wanted to, you wrapped your hands around his trunk– Bob’s– and hugged him, just beneath his face. 

Bark creaked and branches rustled as Harold made an effort to reach back, to drop his chin to rest on your shoulder, to bring one arm around your body, to lean into your touch, but Bob halted him. 

Harold felt he could scream at the opposition, but… he couldn’t startle you with his frustrations. Instead, he sat in silence, savoring what he could of your touch, relishing in the mere thought that you were doing this at all. Sharing your warmth with him, making the effort to show how you cared, disobeying everything his other keepers in Oasis would have told you just to show him you wanted to feel him against you. 

“Wish that I could return this favor.” He said, instead of crying out his frustrations with Bob to you. Like you hadn’t heard that complaint a thousand times already. 

“Hmm?” You asked without removing yourself. 

“Wish, Lone, that I could… touch you.” 

“Bob won’t let you, huh?” Now you pulled back, just enough so he could look upon your face. 

“Afraid not. He… I’m constrained by him. No matter how I try.” 

“Well… um, can I…?”

Harold blinked as you trailed off suggestively. If it were possible, his mouth would be running dry right about then. 

“Can I talk to Bob?” You finished, and a somber sort of relief washed over him. 

Harold couldn’t answer you at first. His brows furrowed, and in his mind, he tried to reach out, to find anything but the pulsing wordless communications that Bob always released, directed to him, and to the other trees and saplings that acted as his spawn all throughout Oasis. 

Their conversations were mildly distracting, especially when Harold was alone and silent in the grove, but now, with you here, the bound man had to strain to make out their strange, slow voices. 

“Not in a way that will get through to him.” Harold finally answered you, after Bob ignored his mental prodding for the umpteenth time since they were joined. 

“Alright, well… Can I then…” You ended with a distinct clear of your throat. Your body against Bob’s bark; even down to Harold’s core, he could feel the way your heart picked up, the way you flushed with heat against him. 

“Yes?”

“I could touch you, if you want? You know… enough for both of us.” 

If his eyes were wide before, now they were akin to twin moons as his mouth hung agape and he appeared to short-circuit. 

“H-Harold?” 

“Lone… You… want this, too?” 

When you nodded, he could swear that his heart damn-near stopped. 

How ironic that would have been. 

With a distinct swallow, you nodded to him. Your eyes couldn’t meet his then, either. To see you embarrassed… about anything, it was more than strange. 

Harold thought you were the freest of them all, the most outward with your thoughts, your true self, and now… to know the one viable secret he knew you were keeping was potential feelings for him? 

“I was afraid to tell you.” You said quietly, “Afraid what you might think, or say, and the others, well…” You trailed off with a lovely chuckle, and Harold’s gruff timbre of a laugh followed. 

“The others don’t matter. They only care for Bob, what he can do for them. For all the wasteland. Harold is just… an afterthought.”

“Well, you’re not to me.” 

You released your hold on him as you spoke, turning to grasp his rooted arm with your soft hands, before hauling yourself back up onto that perch. Harold, not for the first, nor the last, time this evening, wished he could break one of his hands away from Bob’s grasp to reach out to you, to help balance you, as you wavered in your place on him. 

You stood on his limb now, level with his strange face, and pondered it. 

He felt you could see right through him. Not just through Bob and into Harold’s human shell, but into him. See his soul, even. 

He didn’t know what exactly you were looking for, but you stood for a long moment, just… running your eyes over him, like he was something you could read. Just… observing. 

Truth seeking. Something in his mind offered, and if he could’ve, Harold would’ve nodded his agreement to himself. 

“I want to kiss you.” You said decidedly, and Harold tried to recoil. Still, even with your words, your hands on him, your embrace… The thought was something so inconceivable for him, so… splendorous, that it felt like a dream. 

Perhaps you did kill me, and this is just the eternal dream. 

If that’s the case, waking would be more torture than getting bound to Bob all over again. 

“Alright.” Was all he could manage, in his shock, and the grin you answered with set his chest ablaze with affection. 

You leaned forward, bracing a hand on either side of his face, your fingers catching at the knobby protrusions– also courtesy of Bob– that made up some semblance of cheekbones. His eyes followed your lips as they pursed in preparation, and he found himself wishing– more so than for anything else he’d ever imagined– that he could move, that Bob would allow him this one small favor for dragging him all across the wasteland, for letting him tie Harold to this place for eternity, just once could he move of his accord again? 

Just for this.

 Your lips pressed to his mouth, to the grotesque, always-open marionette of what used to be his proper face, his proper lips, and yet… 

There was no crude pull-away, no startled mumble against him, not even the slightest flinch as you pressed forward and sighed. 

That sound rattled through him, like the sap seeping through his veins, it poured life into him. 

“Lone…” Harold whispered to you so softly, his voice reminded him of before. 

Before Bob, before he was a ghoul, even. A before that was famously long ago.

You still didn’t relent, moving that delectable mouth over his, tasting him, drawing out this euphoric feeling that had him believing he still was human. He wished he could taste you, know what it was like to be so close, to feel your breaths wash over his tongue, to clack his teeth against yours until you both pulled back in a fit of laughter, where he wished he could then wrap both arms around you. 

Harold wanted to roll to the grassy earth with you in his embrace, out of breath from your shared mirth as you both drew back in for another taste. He would run his mouth over the seam of your own, and you would boldly answer his call. With you still nestled in his grasp, he would move his way down your body, exploring, feeling. No patch of skin, no freckle, no scar would escape his scrutiny. 

He had so much time. This? It could last an eternity and not feel like even a blink to him after all that Bob put him through. He would use every second of it to see you, to smooth his hands over you, feel your heartbeat below your skin, feel the sweat form there, see the passion growing in your eyes. 

He’d take you, there, in the grass. 

Harold didn’t take much of anything, not ever in his life. He’s been somewhat of a pushover for most of it– Bob clearly had exploited that fact. 

But he would take you. 

You lent him your boldness, your unapologetic passion, your zest for all that life had to offer; your acceptance of him… he could borrow that, too, for tonight. 

He would pull you into his lap on that sweet, quiet patch of grass, hear you moan out his name as you felt his hardness beneath you. Those stringy clothes you wore, that already failed to conceal all that much, he’d pull them apart and bare you to him until there was nothing left for him to uncover. 

Your taste there, too, between your legs… He’d spend half an eternity just there, pulling your honey past his wanton lips until his chin dripped and he was drunk on nothing but you. And if he didn’t die there, between your divine thighs, then he would use every last living breath he had to worship the rest of you. 

Then he could be happy in this life of his, no matter how long he was stuck here for. 

It was with that thought that Harold returned to himself. 

Your lips dragged over him, and he could so nearly taste your breath, he could feel the warmth of your hands–close as they were to his eyes. 

“H-Harold.” You pulled back, and his eyes blinked open to admire you. 

You were out of breath, your eyes glossy and… blown wider than he’d ever seen them. 

“You taste… like nothing I’ve ever–”

“What is this heresy?” 

You froze where you leaned against Harold, as Tree Father Birch’s voice rang clear through the grove.

“I knew this was wrong, I knew you were plotting something, Branchtender Cypress, and this…” A disgusted throaty sound finished the sentence for him, and Harold felt something stir in him. Deep in his roots, not even Bob’s, but Harold’s roots… they boiled. 

“Away from Him." The Tree Father ordered, "Now, Cypress. Away from the grove and seek out Bloom–”

“No.” Harold’s voice growled, and he felt the ground shake from the lowness of it. 

Your hands gripped at him tighter. 

“W-what– but, but your highest–”

“He wants you to go. Father.” You spat the words out, relishing in the way it made Birch's face glow red to hear you command him on his god’s behalf. 

“B-but… No. That cannot be. I am the Tree Father, I speak for what is best for–”

“Lone is what’s best for Harold." He grumbled out, like the sound of groaning wood about to be severed. "What’s best for Harold is also best for Bob.” 

Tree Father Birch shook his head, his brows creased, despondent, like he was losing a loved one before his very eyes. 

“No, no, no. This cannot be.” He started forward, moving with intent towards the pair. 

Harold’s eyes darted to your face, the way your expression was curled in a defensive snarl. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but Harold felt his own features held that same malice right about now. 

“She has manipulated you, your greatness. Cypress wishes to have control for herself, she came to Oasis just for that! On a whim, she decided to join us, only after seeing you. Is this a coincidence? Does she want you to sustain your people, like I do, or will she take what she can before throwing us all into the fire?” 

A growl was forming low in Harold’s trunk. The topmost branches began to shake, just as the ground groaned in protest to the tree’s movement– small as it might be on the outside, it shook the very foundations of the grove.

“It’s what the Bloomseer saw. When she looked at your fate, the day that Cypress arrived here, she saw flames and anguish and death where Oasis once stood.”

"You’re an imbecile.” You piped up, with the full intent to continue with an explanation, but it was too late. He was close enough to you now that, when your words pushed the Tree Father over the edge, he could reach you. 

Birch lunged forward, his gnarled hand met your ankle, and he pulled hard against it, until you toppled, falling in between Harold’s trunk and his rooted arm. Through his and Bob’s connection, Harold felt the way bits of your skin tore against his bark, he heard your pained sounds, and his eyes glowed red and angry as hot coals. 

“Enough!” He bellowed until the grove’s voices went silent, the grassy ground ceased its whispers, the trees paused their conversations, Bob stood at attention, and Birch…

Harold didn’t know how it happened, couldn’t have said quite when, but his hand… His hand. Harold’s left hand was wrapped around the Tree Father’s throat. 

The man’s eyes were nearly bulging from his head from the force, and Harold released him just as suddenly. 

He paid no more mind to the Tree Father as he slid to the floor. Harold could only do as he had dreamt of, do as he’d wished, do what he thought would be impossible all night and every night before or since you met, since he and Bob became fused to this spot.

He reached out for you. 

“Lone?” the bark above his eyes seemed to crease with worry, as he noted the scrapes on your soft skin. 

“Harold, how did you…?” Your voice was a squeak, partly from pain, and partly from the disbelief that strained your throat. “Hon, you moved. You're moving now, it’s… this is incredible!”

You sprung up as he helped you, crashing your body to his in a hug that he returned. 

If it were possible, Harold knew he would’ve wept at the way he could hold you now. 

“Lone, are you alright?” 

“Better.” You smiled at him, that glowing smile that held the stars, and Harold couldn’t help himself. 

This new discovery of his, who knew how fleeting it would be? While he had it, he was going to take advantage of it. 

He scooped you up into his hold, easing you close to his face again, and pulled you near enough to kiss. 

It would’ve been a fool’s hope, he knew, to wish to move his face, his mouth, more than he already could, but he wished for that too, nonetheless. 

What's the harm in wishing, really?

Your hands went back to his face, and in the peace of the night, in the stillness, he could feel your breath, hear your soft sighs, he could even… could he taste you? Cool spring water and edible flowers, the juice of a mutfruit, and… a tinge of him, of Bob, that brash oakiness and sweet syrup. 

To taste a bit of his likeness on you was a pleasure Harold wouldn’t soon forget. 

A gasp released from the both of you, as your hips began to… move. Harold had seen this likeness before, in dances, in strange rituals, in… perhaps in another life, but to feel you on him, your heat grinding into his large, bark-gloved hand as your lips stayed locked to his, it lit that boiling feeling in his belly until he feared he really would go up in flames. 

Harold blinked open his eyes, slowly, reluctantly, to plead with you to carry on, to ask what you wanted from him, to beg to give it to you, anything and everything he was, he’d give to you, because without you, well… You both already knew where he’d be. 

Then his gaze caught the undesirable stirring of the man on the ground at his feet–roots. 

Birch was groaning, still only half conscious from the force that’d been on his windpipe, but his eyes were slowly blinking open. 

“Harold.” You pulled his attention back easily. “Don’t even look at him, okay? Birch doesn’t matter. All those people out there, who treat you like nothing more than an extension of Bob? They don’t matter either, okay?” 

The grip of his hand tightened over your backside, keeping you pressed firmly to his front. 

“It’s just you and me now.” 

[articianne]

i am an alear fire emblem defender

[vgtrackbracket]

Video Game Track Bracket Round 4

Vs. Metal Sonic from Sonic Generations

vs.

Lonely Rolling Star from Katamari Damacy

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Vs. Metal Sonic:

A groovy tune to fight your evil robot doppleganger to.

Lonely Rolling Star:

Everyone knows it, everyone loves it! It's a classic for a reason!

Ok. Ignoring how the song is very bubbly despite being a rather melancholic love song about someone waiting for their wandering lover to return...it starts off with a small ditty and a vocalist, but more instruments and complexities build up as the song goes along. The song is literally mimicking the gameplay!

[m66g]

CARTI AT LV SHOW😍🤞🏼🤞🏼

[runawaykidderek]

Lil Wayne @ Prom Queen Music Video Set 02/12/2009

[maxcuntstappen]

Top 3 of FP2 :

Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen’s boyfriend

Max Verstappen’s boyfriend’s boyfriend

[guardian-angle22]

Appreciation Post for TK Strand’s Too Nice for the Y Sweater