#just let them date and have it fall apart

[http-shield]

Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.

"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"

Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.

"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"

You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.

"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.

"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."

You hum, letting his rant continue.

"And I was on the line."

"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.

"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."

"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.

"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."

"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. “I've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.

"It's a joke, Buck."

"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."

"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.

Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."

You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."

"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"

[queenk00k]

cupid's lead arrows // rafe cameron

Requested by anon

Request: Hi girl I love your writing 🫶🏻 Can you write about Rafe, who has been Reader’s best friend forever, but secretly has a crush on her? One day, Reader confesses that she’s dating someone, and Rafe does everything he can to break them up.

Summary: You finally get a boyfriend but something, or someone, seems intent on keeping you apart.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: This is literally all angst sorry

Note: My first Outer Banks fic in over 4 years lol please be kind! I got a little carried away...this lends itself to a part 2, if anyone likes it.

It’s not always a walk in the park when you���re Rafe Cameron’s best friend.

You’ve been inseparable since the first day of high school when you got paired together for a semester long project. Study sessions in the library (well, you would study, and Rafe would flirt with the cute library monitor) turned into after school hangouts at Tannyhill, which turned into hosting parties and heading to college together.

Did you ever have a crush on your best friend? Well fuck, have you seen him?

Not only is he gorgeous but you got to experience a whole different side of Rafe that not everyone got to see, the sweet side – loyal, caring, and pretty soft behind the scenes.

You spent years pining after Rafe, silently and stoically of course, never wanting to ruin your friendship by letting him know how you felt. You figured it was for the best and besides, you had lived through enough of Rafe’s girlfriends to know you weren’t ever going to be his type.

You’ve seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows which, unfortunately for you both, Rafe seemed to have more than his fair share of. Much to the disappointment of your parents and the shock of your friends, you stuck by Rafe’s side through his drug addiction and his drinking problems and were there to pick up the pieces after his father died. Rafe, in turn, had your back when you had blow up fights with your mother and comforted you when you had problems with your friends.

Now, two years out of college and with Rafe mostly sober, you didn’t think there was anything you two couldn’t handle, nothing you couldn’t face together, nothing that could ever come between you.

Until you started dating Parker.

Rafe seemed happy for you when you first told him, hugging you and telling you he was proud of you for “finally getting some.” He was nice to Parker (by Rafe’s standards, which really meant not going out of his way to intimidate the guy) when you brought him to the beach and introduced them.

But as the weeks went by, you noticed a subtle shift in Rafe’s behaviour. You kept telling yourself you were being paranoid, that there’s no way Rafe could have an issue with Parker. He told you he was happy for you, right? And unlike the last potential boyfriends, Rafe didn’t try to scare him off.

But something was off.

You noticed Rafe was falling back into old habits that scared you. He was drinking more, often double parked at parties, and either loud and belligerent or sulking on his own in a corner.

And then then the incidents began. At first you just thought it was shit luck, but then it just started to feel like the universe was conspiring against you and Parker.

Turns out Rafe was conspiring against you and Parker.

It started when Parker seemingly ghosted you on one of your Friday night dates, leaving you alone and upset at the wharf before Rafe picked you up. Parker swore he had car issues, both his front tires punctured, and you figured that was a reasonable excuse.

Then the night of the annual bonfire, a harmless game of ‘never have I ever’ turned sour when Rafe and Topper kept coming up with the most oddly specific scenarios. Each of them left Parker putting down his fingers, looking sheepishly over at you as your cheeks turned red from embarrassment before you got up and left the circle, Rafe raising a beer bottle to his lips as he watched you intently. He followed after you that night and you melted into his arms, naïvely assuming your best friend was comforting you without an ulterior motive.

And now the worst of all – Topper had cornered you as you were leaving the driving range to ask if you knew Parker was spending time with his ex, and you finally snapped.

“Where did you hear this, Topper? Who told you?”

And because Topper was, above all, really just spineless, you got the answer out of him straight away.

Rafe. At the scene of the crime, three times in a row. What a fucking coincidence.

So, you decided you’d had enough of this bullshit, of Rafe playing games with your relationship, and you drove over to his house, marched up to his front door and banged on it with your fist until he finally opened up.

“Y/N!” he said, looking genuinely excited to see you. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to lose your shit just yet, not to get angry until you actually knew the truth.

“Do you like Parker? Do you want me to be with him?”

Rafe blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What? I don’t-”

“Tell me the truth,” you cut in. “I want to hear you say it.”

Rafe stepped over the threshold and gently closed the door behind him, clearing his throat before he answered.

“No. I don’t, and I want you to break up with him,” he said, folding his arms.

You huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Right, well, that’s not going to happen. Thanks a lot,” you say, willing yourself not to cry as you turn around and walk away from your best friend.

“Y/N, please come back. I have my reasons!” Rafe raises his voice as he calls out to you.

“Why do you care so much? Is this some fake chivalrous ‘if I can’t have you, no one can’ bullshit? Just leave me alone, Rafe.” You say as you clamber down the front steps and start walking to your car.

“Because I love you, alright?!” Rafe shouts after you.

You stop, the righteous anger you were feeling only moments before threatening to dissipate into the humid night air. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning around to face your best friend.

Rafe’s breathing heavily, running his hand over his head as if to erase what he just said.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his ring glinting in the moonlight as he chews on his thumb, looking pleadingly at you, willing you to say something, anything. The silence between you feels heavy as your mind races. He’s said it before of course, but it’s usually in jest, or after you help him with something. This feels different, and you know better than to assume it’s not.

“Rafe,” you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing?” You watch him warily as he takes a hesitant step towards you.

“I love you. I’m serious. More than best friends, more than anything we’ve been in the past. I love you and I…I can’t stand to see you with someone else. I can’t let it happen.”

“You have no right-”

“He’s not a good guy, y/n!” Rafe raises his voice again, making you flinch slightly. You scoff at his words, throwing him an incredulous glare.

“Like you can talk, Rafe. I know you – more than anyone else. You’re not exactly in a position to be telling me who’s good for me or not,” you snap.

Rafe huffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Yeah, you got me. I’m not perfect, fine, but I know you and I know you shouldn’t be with Parker. That’s why I-” Rafe stops abruptly, his mouth twisting.

You step closer to him, closing the gap between you. “That’s why you what, Rafe?” Your heart pounds and you’re sure you’re about to have your suspicions confirmed. When Rafe stands there, dumbstruck and silent, you answer for him.

“You’re the one who started that rumour about Parker and his ex, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s silence tells you everything you need to know. You shake your head, not quite believing that your best friend would try and sabotage your relationship like this.

“And the bonfire? That was on purpose, wasn’t it? You got some dirt on Parker and wanted me to know about it.”

Rafe winced. “Well, Topper helped with that one. But seriously, this is all for your own good. I’m trying to protect you!”

You hold your hand up. “Stop. Just stop. How could you do this? Why would you try and break us up like this, just because you’re jealous? Why can’t you just let me be happy? Not to mention, you’ve been hurting me, Rafe! You’re not just hurting Parker; you’re destroying me in the process.”

You’re crying now, feeling betrayed. You had barely noticed but it had started to rain, the droplets mixing with your tears to run mascara down your cheeks. Rafe has the audacity to look concerned and regretful, to move as if to hug you and you shake his arm off before jabbing your index finger into his chest.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You had your chance! For years! Just because you’ve finally fucking woken up doesn’t mean you get to ruin my happiness. And now this bullshit about Parker’s family? That’s low, even for you,” you spit, the brief warmth you felt when Rafe told you he loved you now completely cold.

Rafe shook his head. “No, no, you don’t get it! That’s all true! They’re shady fucking people and God, that’s coming from a Cameron. You can’t get caught up in their mess,” he pleads.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to believe you now! Why should I?” you yell before spinning on your heel and stalking down the driveway to your car, being careful to not slip on the pavement.

“Y/N, wait!” Rafe calls and he catches up to you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist with his large hand. His white button-down shirt was almost transparent now and the rain was running in rivers off his nose as he looked down at you.

“Please,” he begs. “Come inside. Let me explain. I love you, y/n, please,” Rafe looks desperate, and you almost pity him before you snap back to reality and remember why you’re so angry.

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s house,” you snarl, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “And if you follow me Rafe, I swear to God, I will never speak to you again.”

With that, you yank open your car door and put the keys in the ignition with shaking hands.

“FUCK!”

As you pull away, you can hear Rafe yelling your name.

You don’t even look in the rearview mirror as you turn out of his street, tires squealing.

[citrusandrottefruit]

Modern!Steddie (This is based on something I read a while back on Tumblr about Eddie becoming famous, Steve getting doxxed, and years later singing Hozier's Francesca to Eddie. I'll look for the fic, and if I find it, I'll put the link here.) EDIT: This is the fic here, guys. I recommend reading it. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48091627/chapters/121266283)

Steve has always been one of the popular kids, but not the kind of childish villains you see in movies. No, he was popular because he was handsome, had rich parents, was charismatic, and was good at sports. He didn't bully other kids, but he wasn't interested in them either.

He never felt the need to seek out new connections at school, because he'd had Tommy and Carol for years, and anyone new who wanted to talk to him would come to him. He didn't have to work hard to make new friends.

His time was spent on sports and the friends he already had. The occasional girlfriend, too, because he'd always been a romantic at heart and a lonely kid. Being best friends with a couple would also make him feel like a third wheel a lot, so having a girlfriend and double dates seemed cool.

Then he got into a fight with Tommy and Carol after that graffiti episode in the movies and they drifted apart. Tommy wasn't mean about it, but he was resentful and hostile, because they were best friends and it always sucks to lose a friend to a boyfriend/girlfriend who you think cheated on them.

After a year, when he and Nancy broke up, he, Tommy and Carol didn't get back together, but they weren't hostile, you could tell they felt bad for him. Steve wanted to be friends with them again, he just didn't feel right crawling back with his tail between his legs and he also felt guilty that they never reconnected before. He didn't want it to seem like he only got back together because he was single.

He's still popular, but now his best friends aren't around anymore and he got cheated on by his girlfriend, but he feels like he deserved it (let's just say the story they made up about Barbara dying was real and the trauma grew into a monster and consumed their entire relationship). So he feels alone.

He has the kids. But Dustin thinks he's awesome and he doesn't want to be anything less, Lucas also sees him as a hero, willing to take a beating for him, Max looks up to him as a big brother. Will is Jonathan's brother and has traumas, so Steve would never dump his problems on the kid. Mike is Nancy's brother.

All of his real friends are kids.

So, Eddie. Steve isn't lonely around school, he still interacts with other students, he's friendly with the popular crowd, a lot of people like him. He just has these moments where he seems sad and then suddenly he seems super chill again.

Anyone who looks closely can tell he's got a problem and pretends not to, but it's not obvious. Eddie doesn't think much of it at first. He actually finds it amusing, because he has a lot of shallow and superficial ideas about popular kids who conform to the norm and who are well-off.

Eddie comes over when he sees Steve reading a DnD rulebook. He mocks it a bit, but explains a few things and Steve, who has always been a social butterfly and never cared much about sitting at the same table as some group in the cafeteria, sits down with Hellfire.

Not with the intention of being their friend, just because he wanted to ask them questions, take notes and move on with his life. A brief connection, a friendly interaction. No different from his relationship with most people who are part of his social circle.

But Eddie keeps pulling him closer, invites him to join the Hellfire Club. Steve declines, because he likes the stories and wanted to learn about DnD because of the kids, but he feels insecure about being a player, about roleplaying, he's afraid of making the wrong decisions and ruining something that seems to be so important to their friends (both the kids and Eddie).

Eventually, they fall in love.

Steve graduates without much distinction and Eddie barely makes it, but they are free from high school. While Eddie continues to play concerts at the Hideout with the CC boys, Steve works at Scoops Ahoy and makes friends with Robin.

So, when Eddie decides to leave, Steve asks them to wait a little, to save up more money, to get better organized. If they stayed for a whole year, Robin could even leave with them. When Eddie doesn't agree, he says they can continue their relationship long-distance. After all, it's 2010 and there's technology for that.

Eddie leaves anyway, believing that Steve will regret it and look for him, understand that leaving is the right choice and blah blah blah. Steve can't leave yet, because if he moves out, if he doesn't follow the path his parents have laid out, he'll give up any illusion of family he might have had. His car is in his father's name, he doesn't have much savings, he's still not open about being bisexual and he's terrified of leaving his entire life behind. It's hard in Hawkins, but facing the whole world, the uncertainty, not having a home to go back to… It scares him. Eddie doesn't understand, because if nothing else worked out for him, he could go back to Wayne and be welcomed with open arms.

One of Eddie's first hit songs is about a preppy, popular, charismatic kid who's the captain of the swim team and lives in Loch Nora who starts dating him in his senior year and gets stuck in a shitty job at the mall. It's easy to figure out who Steve is. People at school find out quickly.

I like to think Carol is the one who alerts him, goes to his job to tell him the rumors. Tommy goes with her. Although Carol is kinder and more open and Tommy keeps his distance, as if he might be infected, he also tells Steve to be careful, for old times' sake.

Either way, he becomes a target. The students tell their parents that they believe the hit song is about Steve. This story even gets around the church that his parents donate to and "attend" when they're around. His parents' friends find out. His business partners find out. His parents, too.

His parents suddenly move back home. It was a huge fight, with his mother accusing him of being possessed, suggesting a treatment to "cure" him. Mr. Harrington said it was due to a lack of beatings. Either way, it ended with him bleeding alone in the street.

A few days later, he and Robin managed to return to "steal" some of his belongings back, including documents. Other than that, he lost everything.

Mr. Wheeler didn't even want him to get close to Mike anymore.

For a while, he spends his days between the Hendersons' couch and Robin's bedroom floor, feeling like shit and listening to the music Eddie wrote over and over again.

After that, he sells his cell phone, his laptop, whatever he managed to keep. Robin also sells some of her things and the kids help with this small fundraising, selling cakes and sweets. Even Tommy and Carol seek them out, providing almost 50% of the money. That way, Steve is able to leave with a few months' rent saved.

Wayne also helped, because he knew that Eddie's music was responsible for this. Steve told him never to talk about everything that happened with Eddie, so Wayne kept it a secret.

I think Tommy, Carol and Steve could get back to being friends. Not the same as before, but they have lunch together every few months and they were the ones who helped Steve get a job in a new city.

A few months later, Corroded Coffin is well established, about to release its first album. Robin goes to college and Steve and she move in together.

That's when other people start to find out who Steve is too. It starts with a post on Reddit, people speculating about him, which is the central theme of several songs, although none are as explicit about his identity as the first. His parents receive some hate mail, they make a point of sending it to the Buckleys and Steve finds out. What hurts the most is knowing that his parents never gave him any of his belongings, but they found a way to let him know that people he didn't even know hated him.

He gets some hate messages too, because, although he deleted his old accounts, the new ones are easy to find through the profiles of people who knew him before all this. So, they're probably students from school, people know what Robin's social networks are, finding him.

There isn't much hate coming his way because he's careful to keep to the shadows, and thankfully the speculation about Steve Harrington being responsible for breaking Eddie Munson's heart doesn't go that far, after all, there's nothing to keep fueling those theories.

One of the things that connected Eddie to Steve was music. I like to think of Steve as a musician, like Joe Keery is. If Eddie can pour out his anger through music, he can also pour his heart into it. He writes Unknown/Nth and posts it to an anonymous YouTube account. He sings with an acoustic guitar, without showing his face.

For a while, this feels like closure.

Steve still gets hate mail sometimes, even though he deletes the old accounts and creates new ones. Everyone in Hawkins seems to know about him and Eddie. The kids, who hated Eddie for a while, have reluctantly started to admire him again. Steve reassured them about this, but they all remained bitter about everything that happened.

Steve, for his part, has vacillated between hating Eddie and hating himself. Most of the time, he still feels like he maybe loves Eddie a little bit, as if he’s stuck on that last day they saw each other. Sometimes he blames himself for making the wrong decision. Other times he thinks that if he hadn't stayed in Hawkins, Eddie might never have made it big.

His feelings for Eddie are complicated.

So, about 5 years after the breakup, there's a documentary about the beginning of Corroded Coffin. Something not produced by them. Maybe by a fan? Who goes to Hawkins, talks to people, tells them about Steve, exposes Steve and it goes viral on social media.

His life goes to shit very quickly. Eddie doesn't even notice at first, because CC is on a world tour and they never have free time. Meanwhile, Steve becomes well-known on social media and gets some hate mail.

Things change a bit when someone, seeing old photos of Steve, posts on Reddit that they have a crazy theory: there's a song they've been listening to for years, that's a lost gem in the depths of YouTube and they swear that's Steve Harrington, because the moles match and you can see a Hawkins High jacket in the background. It's a pretty crazy theory, so it doesn't get much attention, but the song gains momentum.

Eddie finds out because, once he learned everything that happened, he started researching everything about Steve, trying to measure how much he ruined his life.

Assuming people find out that the song is really about Eddie, I think he could become the target of hate, almost as much as Steve did, because Unknown/Nth is a powerful song.

That's what I've thought, for now. They get back together in the end because Eddie's actions had terrible consequences, but he never meant to hurt Steve like that and the biggest culprits for everything that happened are his parents. The hate from the fans wasn't that intense until the documentary, so it was hard to notice.

Anyway, they have a long way to go. A talk to clear up their last fight, a lengthy apology from Eddie, reconnecting with the kids, getting back to being friends.

It would be terribly sad and difficult. It definitely wouldn't be a fairy tale, but they could learn to trust each other. Eddie could earn Steve's trust, affection, and friendship, and one day they could be a couple again.

[coolunspokenforname]

My Take on the Reverse Gravity Falls AU

Mabel Pines/Ms.Mystery/Auntie May

She and Dipper didn't fall out like Stan and Ford

She was the first one Dipper asked to help with his investigation on Gravity Falls

While Dipper wrote the journals, she was the one to set up and organize them

She set Dipper up with Pacifica (after they had an amicable breakup)

Was the one to get most of the information about Gnomes and Mermaids

Narrowly missed becoming the gnome queen; they're still trying to marry her

Is pen pals with Mermando, and they still hang out occasionally

Didn't push Dipper into the portal, but blames herself

Can't trust most people after what happened the last time she misplaced her trust

Raised Dipper and Pacifica's kid after Dipper disappeared and Pacifica was unable to care for them

Spent most of the first ten years of Dipper's disappearance trying to be a good parent

Was heartbroken when Dipper's kid emancipated themself at sixteen (telling her they blamed her for both Dipper's disappearance and Pacifica's state)

After she was cut off she refocused on bringing Dipper back

Was surprised that Stan and Ford were put in her care, but obviously said yes to taking care of them over the summer

Dipper Pines/'The Author'/Grandpa

Decided to study the anomalies in Gravity Falls because he and Mabel spent their summers in Gravity Falls

Was never good at drawing/scrapbooking so he invited Mabel to join him

Didn't believe Pacifica had changed when Mabel first set them up, but quickly realized he liked her (headcanoning that he's greysexual in this au, and the only other person he's wanted to date was Wendy)

Was still friends with Wendy, but they grew apart while he was at University; before the accident he was 'boyish' Dan's godfather

After a couple years of studying Gravity Falls he grew frustrated at the lack of answers and summoned Bill from a cave painting he and Mabel had found as kids

Bill convinces him to build the portal

After the birth of His and Pacifica's child he looses momentum on the portal, so Bill convinces him to give him his body while he sleeps

While Bill considers stopping the annoyance permanently, he realizes that it's in his best interest to let the Northwest-Pines' play family while the portal was still a long way from complete

Tries to help Pacifica after the first portal incident, but isn't able to

After he finds out what Bill is doing he becomes paranoid, unable to sleep and distancing himself from his child, afraid that now he knows what Bill is doing he might use them to manipulate him (or worse)

He doesn't blame Mabel for getting stuck in the portal

Pacifica Northwest/Old Mrs Northwest

Everybody in town uses her married title but most don't remember her being married

Kept her last name for the prestige in town

Was the stereotypical mean girl growing up

After getting out of her parents' influence during university she became a better person (though she did still have her moments)

Dated Mabel for a couple weeks before they had a mutual breakup

Was hesitant about dating Dipper for a while, but when Mabel herself set them up she decided to just try it, not expecting it to work out

Well, it did, and she joins the portal building (while also working on her own projects); she's the main financer of their work after the grant money runs out

She and Dipper weren't planning on having a child, but both were ecstatic when they found out

She was the one to get her head stuck in the portal and tries to forget about it

She was already working on the memory gun before joining the twins, hoping to get the town forget about how terrible she was as a kid

After making up with Mabel (and later Dipper) the project was put on the backburner

At first she only used it occasionally, but after Dipper's disappearance she used it way more, to the point of not being able to remember anything

Has moments of lucidity where she does try to get into contact with her child, but without the memories she took out they don't last long. She often thinks her child is still 6 (their age when Dipper disappeared)

When she was still okay she set up funds for Dipper, Mabel, and her child. Mabel only uses hers to fix the portal, the child's was used when they emancipated themself to get a house and shop. Dipper's has been left unused.

Stanley and Stanford Pines

I haven't thought much about their part yet, tbh

They actually do know that their grandpa went missing, but assume he's dead

They don't know Old Mrs. Northwest is their grandma (Mabel isn't hiding it, she just assumed they would know)

Mabel actually isn't hiding anything, the boys are just so caught up in the mystery of the falls they don't notice the obvious

Like, there's very clear references to Mabel's relationships with the gnomes and Mermando, they just don't connect the dots (these boys have never heard the term 'Occam's razor')

They were sent there for the summer after Stanley 'borrowed' the necklace from the pawnshop (and their whole adventure with the Jersey Devil)

Ford immediately forms a rivalry with another kid visiting Gravity Falls. When he tells Stan and Mabel this both worry it's a bullying situation. That is, until they meet Fiddleford

Ford is caught between having a burning hate for the kid and great admiration.

Stan befriends a bunch of kids, but as soon as he meets Gideon (another of Mabel's exes) he makes it his mission to ruin the man's fake psychic career

He does this mainly through pretending to be Ford and showing up at his shows. After Gideon catches on Stan starts having Ford go in his stead. Mabel finds this hilarious (her breakup with him was less amicable than the one with Pacifica. While they don't exactly hate each other, she does enjoy seeing him brought down a peg or two)

I am trying to figure out this au, but I really like what I have so far. Any questions are welcome, and I'll try to answer them.

[wonymao]

ᯓ. ⊹ cuddles w/ yushi 𖹭 !!

cuddles and kisses with your boyfriend yushi who comes home late <3

a/n; wrote this last night (right after i wrote supernova love so might not be good either) not proofread

yushi x gn!reader

no cws!! fluff, sfw

wc: 789

11:38pm.

youre sitting on the couch in your living room, eariler today your boyfriend, yushi, had texted you saying hes flying back to korea after finishing up the last tour date in japan.

its been a while since youve last seen him, since youve last hugged him. you miss him.

watching tv waiting for yushi to come to your apartment. shouldnt he be here by now? he hasnt texted you since he told you he's boarding the plane, ehich was 7 hours ago. maybe hes still busy. when he comes back, you promise to yourself to make sure he feels loved.

as time slowly passes by, you begin to feel tired. normally you would be in bed sleeping at this time, but youre forcing yourself to stay up. to greet him. grabbing the blanket beside you, covering yourself and lifting your knees up to your chest, warpping your arms around your knees, you could almost fall alseep in this position. you decide to take a nap. the door is unlocked, so anyone could walk in at any moment, but you live in a safe area. the only person who woukd be walking in wohld be yushi.

slowly closing your eyes, falling alseep with the faint noise of the tv in the background.

feeling a pair of arms wrap around you has you slowly open your eyes. realizing its yushi, you lean into your boyfriend who is sitting besidd you on the couch. "what time is it?" you slur your words from being too tired. closing your eyes again.

"its 1:27am.. im sorry for being so late" yushi says, his voice barely above a whisper. kissing your forehead he lifts you up, princess style. like how a father would when they realize their kid is sleeping in the car, so their only choice is to carry them to their bed.

feeling comfortablr in your boyfriends arms you hold onto him, smiling. he brings you to your rooms, laying you down softly on your bed. covering you up in the sheets, then laying down beside you.

you turn to face yushi, wrapping your arms around his neck, while his hands find his way to your lower back.

"yushi, i missed you so much" tears welling up in your eyes

"i missed you too y/n" leaning in to kiss your cheek. you want to be closer to him. you hide your face in his chest, throwing your left leg over his legs. still not close enough.

the two of you staying in this position, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

7:19am

waking up, the first thing you see is yushis beautiful face. how can a man look so perfect? how did you get so lucky to have him all to yourself. he must be so tired with his busy schedule.

not wanting to wake him up but still wanting to be closer to him, you inch your way towards him as you both move a lot in your sleep. pressing your hands and face up against his chest. yushi feeling this, slowly waking up.

"good morning" his morning voice. its been a while since youve heard it. looking up to him smiling "good morning handsome" pecking his lips.

yushi not liking how short that was, moves one of his hand to the back of your head and the other softly on your cheek, he brings your face closer to his. kissing you, a real kiss.

"its been a while since we've seen each other and all you give me is a weak peck?" yushi playfully teases

making eye contact with your boyfriend, you can feel your heart beating out of your chest.

he just brings you closer, going in for another kiss. laughing in between each kiss, he guides you on top of him. straddling him while hes still laying down. his hands run along your back, going no farther down then your lower back while still kissing you.

"i missed being like this, i love you y/n" yushi says releasjng his lips from yours, letting you lay down on top of him, arms holding you in place.

"i love you too yushi" you say kissing his neck once, staying in this position for a while. the both of you wanting to cherish this moment before you both have to get up and get ready for the day. before he leaves you for a while again. because hes an idol, your relationship has to be on the low. it pains you knowing youre in a relationship, but the public cant know that he belongs to you. and youre his. youll make sure to photograph this memory of yushi in your mind

[nicksolemnlyswears]

DATING HAN LUE HEADCANONS

pairing: han lue x reader

word count: ~2k

warnings: 18+, no smut perse but mentions of it, language, not much really, this is pretty tame

a/n: hello there! it's been a while since i've written for this lovely man but i recently found this on my notes and figured it's a good time to finish it. this was a request i got a while ago, it was by an anon so anon if you see this, i got you!!

the request only asked for dating headcanons so there's not much plot in here unlike the waitress one.

i feel really bad cause i got my han girlies on my inbox asking for more han content and i've been jumping from fandom to fandom. i just need the last movie to come out to fuel the love i have for han.

enjoy <3

Han is a man who prefers long term relationships. Amongst a life full of chaos he relishes on those relationships he can lean back and find calm and comfort, someone he can rely on.

Doesn’t mean Han's not into hook ups though. Whenever he’s single he’ll have his fair share of one nights stands. At the end of the day he's a man with needs, especially since he loves putting his life on the line.

Han he keeps people in boxes: friends, off limits, hookups, and relationship material. Of course there’s also that box with bright red letters that spell TOXIC. Most people in that box are one night stands that thought they stood a chance after a hookup and became a little unhinged.

Whenever Han finds that person that is relationship material he doesn’t let them go. He’ll pursue them in his cool and nonchalant way. He’ll compliment them so smoothly they won’t notice until much later.

Han will invite you out to do random stuff, wording it as 'errands' and it’s only in the middle of it that you realize it’s a date. Lunch followed by a scenic walk in a park in Tokyo and then dessert? Definitely a date. It’s perfect because it takes those first date jitters out of the way.

You fall in love with him way too quickly and Han knows when you do. It's your own fault because once you realize you're head over heels you become this mumbling, blushing mess.

It was a smooth transition from friends to dating to being in a relationship and it's all because of Han. He's great at reading people and it helped him ease your nerves and figure out how you were feeling with every outing.

With entering a new relationship there's a period of getting to know the other person. Han is an open book, he doesn't see the point of hiding anything with the girl that might be his future. You either accept him as he is now or you don't and that's the end. He has nothing to hide although he tiptoes around his late teens.

When Han tells you of his life as a fugitive you don't believe him. You laugh in his face. Like, “Yeah, sure. You pulled off a heist in Brazil and stole from the richest mafia man with your posey of misfits. Hilarious.” Han shrugs and moves on.

You could've googled it but you don't. You just think Han had a rough upbringing he doesn’t like to talk about. Which is partly true but not the case. It comes to bite you in the ass afterwards.

Moving on, Han is not a fan of pecks on the lips. If it’s not a kiss that lasts more than 5 seconds don’t fucking bother. He’s an all or nothing kinda man, you know?

I mean it’s not like Han will fight you if you do but it's visible how he's left wanting more. You’ve learned your lesson the hard way. You’re in a rush and to say goodbye you quickly peck him on the lips and then Han will pull you back in and plant a good kiss in, successfully making you even more late.

That being said Han adores kisses on the forehead or temple or back of the head. Han will randomly walk up to you while you do chores around the apartment and press a kiss to the back your head with his hands on your hips. Then he’ll walk off like nothing happened, leaving you all ☺️☺️.

Dating Han includes spending nightfall in each others arms. Resting in the increasingly comfortable sofa and raking your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to stay in.

"Do you have to go out, Hannie?" You whisper, scratching on his scalp making him shudder.

"I told them I'd be there." Han's response is muffled as he gets more comfortable, his face pressed against your breasts.

"But do you have to?" You insist as your other hand goes to scratch his back.

"I guess I can stay in and see them tomorrow night," Han sighs as he relaxes even more against you. He's far too comfortable and this cuddling will soon evolve into something much more exciting by the way you're hanging on to him.

For a time there Han pauses his life for you. He stops going to the races and ignores the calls of the Toretto crew to nurture your growing relationship.

By pausing Han completely ignores that other part of his life leading the Toretto gang to come to Tokyo. It’s not like Han meant to ignore them he was just enjoying his time with you so much that he didn’t realize how much time had gone. We’ll get into that later.

Han is not one to argue a lot. If you’re annoyed at him for one reason or another he’ll take it and try to distract you. Whether it’s by calling you a sweet nickname or holding you or kissing you.

But if it’s about something that puts you at risk Han will put his foot down. You went out with your friends late at night and walked home alone? Unacceptable. Do you know how many sickos are out there? That's when real arguments form because you can be so stubborn and independent. You can handle yourself. Han trusts you fully, it's the outside world he doesn't trust.

If you prioritize your job instead of your well being? Nope. Han will have to step in. Hell you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. He has enough money for the two of you. The idea of being taken care of like that is so tempting but you do like having your own life and money.

Sleepy, morning ‘I love you’s.’ That’s when he says those three words the most. You typically wake up before him so you’ll play with his hair and trace your fingertips on his back to softly wake him up.

It's mid morning and you've just woken up. You turn in bed to find Han sleeping on his stomach, his long hair covering his eyes and tickling his cheeks.

You brush the hair away from Han's face, tracing your fingertips over his face to softly wake him. You'd typically let him sleep in more but you had plans for the day and he insisted in driving you around.

He starts to stir and softly groans. Your hands go to his naked back, because he loves when you do that. "Good morning, handsome."

"Morning," he says, opening his eyes and looking at you. His voice deeper and rougher than normal. He clears his throat and pull you to him, kissing your head and muttering an, "I love you."

"I love you, more," you say, kissing his chest before wiggling out of his arms, "Time to get up, you promised me to take me to brunch before going to the grocery store."

Han will absolutely let you drive his precious car. Whenever you want to for as long as you want to. Doesn’t matter if you scratch it or pop a tire. He can fix his car no problem. As long as you're safe he's all in for it.

Will silently get off on you driving fast and changing the gears of the car expertly. At that moment Han is a spectator and you're the show. He understands all the other girls he's either been with or hooked up with and how they got turned on at him driving.

Driving a fast car is sexy.

Han is the kinkiest yet softest lover ever. He will try anything at least once but is not into the harsher parts of BDSM. Spanking and bondage is okay he sees the appeal and he likes it but not the crazy parts of it. Han's favorite position is when you ride him. Not reverse cowgirl though because he likes seeing your face and your chest bouncing. He loves your expressions and hearing the curses that slip from your lips.

Han is a slut for long, messy make out sessions. The one's that start slow and then build up. His tongue in your mouth or his in yours he doesn't have a preference. Your hands in his hair, pulling on it. Wandering hands but not going anywhere. The ones where when he pulls away there's a string of saliva between you two.

I'm sorry but Han is a handsy man. In public he'll hold back so he'll keep a hand on your hips or waist, an arm around your shoulder is more common though. If he's being cheeky he'll grab your ass in public. In private though? Oh, hands always on you. Hand on your ass, hand on your tit, on your thigh, always a hand on you.

Han loves to buy you clothes and lingerie. He takes note on what clothes you like and will buy you a bunch of those but will also buy you clothes he would go crazy seeing you wear. He will demand you model them for him.

Clothes like a little black dress, four or five inch, expensive, high heels, lacy lingerie sets. You will model them but then you'll end up in his bed, clothes still on.

Han is quiet in public but in private, with you? That man loves to yap, especially when you get him to talk about things he's extremely passionate about. It's hard to get him to shut up.

Han won't succumb to his friends teasing him about the fact that his whipped, or a simp, oor any nonsense like that. He has you and he loves you. There's nothing to be ashamed of.

The day Domenic Toretto knocks on your shared home is the day you're thrown for a spin.

Han is right behind you greeting one of his closest friends. He introduces you two happily, urging Dom to come in and take a seat.

You stay right besides Han in the couch across from the big man. You've heard a lot about Dom and it's all been great things. You're just shocked at the surprise visit.

They make small talk until Dom says, "We need your help, Han."

"Anything, Dom."

When Dom leaves you're too quiet. Han approaches you, giving you a look, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? This man just came here to ask for your help in a secret mission to take down this dangerous mercenary. How do you think I feel?" You exclaim overwhelmed at what was discussed.

"You sound very surprised. I told you about Brazil and my past," Han cocks his head curiously.

"I didn't think it was real, Hannie!" You yell, "I thought you had a rough upbringing and this was your way to joke and cover it up."

"I'm sorry," Han apologizes, pressing his forehead against yours.

"Are you really doing this?" You ask, scared of what might happen now.

"I have to. They need my help," Han responds, cupping your face in his hands. There are tears in your eyes, afraid of the new reality. Gone are the days of ignorant bliss.

"What about me?" The question was heavy and loaded. You only asked one question but there were hundreds in disguise.

"I'll be back in no time. You will stay here and stay safe, alright?"

Han left early the next morning. He woke you up with a hand on your cheek and another in your back. Han gave you a long, sweet kiss and whispered 'I love you.'

You were left at home with all this new information, your computer to google Brazil, and time.

ta-daaaa. i hope you guys enjoyed this. i know it's not a lot but i feel like i would be repeating myself since dating han headcanons is very much like the waitress headcanons, except without a plot.

i'm trying to get back into writing for han it's just a little hard since i feel like all my fictional crushes are pulling me apart, begging for my attention. my love for han is always there it's just not string enough to make me sit and write a lot. it's why i need this movie to come out asap.

you guys have been so patient so thank you for that. in any case i hope you like or enjoy some of my other work while i try and bring back han <3

[hywonuka]

and i’ve been meaning to tell you | hjs

Sypnosis: Joshua and you have been best friends for ages, until one day your dynamic with him changed into something deeper. He has asked you out the day of your birthday, but will you be able to confess to him how you really feel?

Pairing: joshua x fem!reader

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff

Word count: 904

Warnings: none :3

A/N: happy bday to the sweetest and best joshua biased!!! ily so much, and you have become one of my closest friends, someone i dont want to be apart never in my life. tysm for always being there for me and being the best friend i could ever ask for :( ily the mingyu to my wonu <3 hope u enjoy this little present hehe

11th November. Finally, it was your birthday, your special day, even if you really weren’t looking forward to it, your best friend was. He promised you he would take you out, and make it the best day of your life. You didn’t believe him, but there was no harm in trying. After all, you had a huge crush on him, and that made you feel like he was asking you out on a date, which made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You could tell exactly the moment in which you felt for Joshua. It was an spring afternoon, a day in which you needed to be completely alone. Daily life responsibilities had overwhelmed you that day, and you just needed time alone. Or at least that’s what you thought.

You were sitting at a local park, just seeing life passing by, when a tall figure approached you, sitting next to you. You looked at the man next to you, ready to start a fight. The last thing you needed that day was a random guy trying to flirt with you. For your surprise, it was your best friend, Joshua, the one sitting next to you. He was carrying a bag with something inside it, but you couldn’t tell what it was.

“I’ve been looking for you for hours” Joshua said, smiling.

“Why?”

“Y/N, you disappeared without saying a thing, I was really worried. And I know something has happened, I know you pretty well by now. Here, I bought you a little something” He said, handing you the bag.

As you took it and saw he bought you some chocolate cookies. You couldn’t tell in which shop he bought them, but when you tasted them you could tell those were the best cookies you ever ate.

“Do you like them?” Joshua asked, with a smile on his face, which turned bigger when you nodded. “I knew it. Well… do you wanna talk about your day?

You finished eating your cookie before replying to him. They were too good just to stop eating them. “Not really, if I’m being honest… I didn’t even want to run into anyone, how did you find me?

“Let’s say I have some sort of superpower that tells me where you are when you need me” Joshua said playfully, while he looked at you, endeared. “Here, lean on me. I’m here for you, it’s time for you to rest.

And, with that, you felt your head leaning on his shoulder, and something else. Back at the time, you had no idea of what to call it, but nowadays you know what it was. You fell for Joshua in that exact moment, and you couldn’t stop falling for him as the days passed by.

After a beautiful dinner at one of your favourite Italian restaurants, Joshua was driving you back home. Music on the radio was playing, and Joshua was singing to it. You couldn’t help but stare at him, endeared by the sight of him and his voice.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Joshua suddenly asked, parking in front of your apartment building.

“Yeah, thanks… If it wasn’t because of you, this would have been another boring day”

“Y/N, don’t flatter me like that” Joshua said, smiling.

You both stared at each other. For some reason, today felt… different. You didn’t know why, but you felt more connected to Joshua than ever, and the way he was looking at you, made you shiver. Something deep down told you it was the moment, the moment to tell him how you actually felt. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, especially not after what looked just like a date.

“Joshua, I…” You started talking, just to be interrupted by him, who brought one of his fingers to your lips. “Wait, I love this song”

Really? Did he shut you down thanks to Seven by Taylor Swift? What sort of mean joke was that?!

“Before you speak up, I have something for you” He said, taking a bag from the back seat, that you didn’t notice before. “I hope you like them!”

You opened the bag, a bit confused, just to find inside the bag those cookies he bought you months ago. You opened your eyes widely, and took a bite of them. God, they tasted just as you remembered.

“You like them?” He asked, and seemed a bit… nervous?

“I love them, Shua. I always wondered where you bought them”

“I made them myself”

“Just for me?”

“Just for you”

The silence in the car was heavy, only interrupted by Taylor’s voice, and heavy breathings from both of you.

“I love you” Both of you said at the same time, blushing as teenagers experiencing their first reciprocated love. The silence was heavy, and you noticed Joshua staring at your lips, unashamed. “I want, no, I need to kiss you”

“Then do it” Your moment of boldness surprised you, but it was more surprising to you when you saw Joshua leaning to you, covering your lips with his.

He was sweet at the beginning, taking his time to kiss you, until his tongue entered your mouth, heatening up the moment, as he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. He was kissing you as if his life depended on that kiss.

“Happy birthday, Y/N” Joshua whispered, as he rested his forehead against yours.

“Thanks, Shua…”

“I love you”

taglist: @joshug <3

[herefortheships]

What do you think of the Bj and Lydia controversy due to age?

You know, the short answer I have for this is that I do not think it should be an issue that's even brought up anymore. Lydia is now an adult woman in her 50s; plenty of people end up with a partner who is 10+ years older than them, meaning that they would have been a full adult if they would have come across their partner at sixteen. And that's just speaking about the real world; let's not forget Beetlejuice and the characters in that world are all a work of fiction. I don't think the fact that they met when she was a teenager all those years ago should even be an issue to ship it or not. As a matter of fact, people can ship whatever they want. They can even ship it in the first film and it's not an issue... Shipping in itself is inherently innocent. These characters and the situations around them don't even exist, and therefore, whatever you imagine with them, has no effect in the real world. Shipping is no different from a kid grabbing a couple of dolls and making them kiss. It's all in good fun.

Let me tell you, I had written a long freaking essay under this question 😅, but I decided to leave all of that for a separate post. But a few notable points from that essay which I think would be good to include here are the following.

Back in the 90s and early 2000s we had ships with pretty big age gaps on network TV and nobody batted an eye about the age gap (as far as I'm concerned). I'm talking about Buffy the Vampire Slayer specifically in this post. This was before social media, but as far as magazines and fandom spaces go, I'm sure the discussions around Buffy's love interests in BTVS centered around which hot vampire was better for Buffy, Angel or Spike. (Even nowadays we see this kind of article, exhibit A). And you don't see these articles starting with disclaimers and trigger warnings, either.

For those who haven't watched BTVS, Angel was around 240-something when he slept with 17 year old Buffy. He slept with her the night she turned 17, by the way; they were already together while she was 16. At the time he was turned into a vampire, Angel was around 26 years old. Angel met Buffy when she was 16, but he was stalking watching Buffy since she was 15:

Now about Spike. Spike met Buffy when she was 16, but he didn't actually become obsessed with her until she was around 20. Still, they got together and it wasn't ever an issue that he met her when she was a teenager. In Spike's case, he did stick around and interacted with Buffy multiple times before they started dating. In Betelgeuse's case, we know that while he watched Lydia from afar, he never actually managed to interact or even be seen by her during the years they were apart.

A lot of antis throw around the word "grooming" around Beetlebabes; I don't think they understand the meaning of that word. To put it simple, to groom someone is to condition them and emotionally manipulate them for years into a certain behavior, in this context, into falling in love or becoming sexually involved with the groomer. This term, therefore, cannot and will not ever apply to Betelgeuse and Lydia's relationship (it also does not apply to Spuffy, while we're at it). How can it? When they only had a few interactions over 30+ years ago and only met now after all that time.

And about those interactions in the first movie, the fact that Betelgeuse attempted to marry Lydia is attached to an idea of sexual inappropriateness only when that particular idea is projected onto what actually happened in that scene. Objectively, for Betelgeuse, marrying Lydia was a means to an end; there was no sexual or romantic implications in their marriage in that movie.

I believe in the case of Betelgeuse x Lydia versus ships like Buffy x Angel or Buffy x Spike, people are quick to see an issue in one where they never notice an issue in the other for the following reason: While Angel and Spike are hot, young-looking vampires, Betelgeuse is gross and does look like a dead guy. That is literally the difference. Spike and Angel are good-looking hotties; Betelgeuse... I love him lots and he is hot for me, but he is not conventionally attractive. I bet you if Betelgeuse looked like Michael Keaton did playing Bruce Wayne... People wouldn't have an issue that he's lusting after 50-something year old Winona Ryder, (also a hottie herself btw).

Let's add here before I close off this post that both Angel and Spike did objectively horrible things to Buffy when they were soulless (Angel while Buffy was still a minor), and meanwhile Betelgeuse has never harmed Lydia (no, the insta-pregnancy didn't harm her; everything that happened in that scene was an illusion). He didn't even behave inappropriately toward her in the first film when he was wilder and hornier than he is now. And yet shipping Bangel or Spuffy (last I checked lol) isn't widely seen as problematic. I ship Spuffy to the moon and back, and used to ship Bangel as well at some point 🤷🏻‍♀️ and I haven't seen people attacking shippers nor have I seen discussions of these ships being inappropriate (though I'm sure there must be... it's 2024 and the purity culture fandom infection has spread widely), not in the way I see Beetlebabes fans being harassed.

Anyway, I wrote a separate post about this and will post it eventually. This wasn't meant to be this long, but here we are 😅.

[twig-tea]

I'm still processing the end of Love in the Big City the series, but I wanted to jot down a few details and unfinished thoughts that are sticking with me after episodes 7 and 8 [series-only thoughts].

Putting together the timeline made me realize how many important moments in Yeong's life share or are near to the same anniversary; We know he contracts HIV in February (2014), and that Gyu-Ho leaves in February (2022), and that Yeong quits his job in February (2023).

In ep5, we see Yeong's phone where he has three missed calls from Gyu-Ho, and we can see that he's saved Gyu-Ho's name as Q~❤ [hearto], and that probably contributed to why he had hope that the mysterious Q was Gyu-Ho.

We see Yeong finish the soy sauce, and he said it was expired back when they were living together, so that means it's another year out of date. There's something in this metaphor about hanging on past when things are good and finally being able to let go.

When Gyu-Ho first looks at the elephants in the cheap Bangkok motel they were a pair on that nightstand, and he only took one of them.

The metaphor of the ceiling fan hanging over them like a threat the one time they have sex without a condom, how the trust that the fan will not fall feels similar to the trust that the PrEP pills will do their job. Thinking about the way Yeong says Kylie is his and how he wants to be sure she'll remain only his.

And how that ceiling fan ties connects with Habibi and his photos of ceiling fans, how the ceiling is the last thing he saw before he went blind for two weeks and so he takes photos of them in every hotel, how he uses it as his profile picture on hookup apps, how he is hiding from his family and the life he doesn't want by spending time with people on the verge of breaking, but holding on.

The way Gyu-Ho haunts the narrative in episodes 7 and 8 the way Kylie haunted the narrative in 5 and 6.

The perspective we got on the scenes from Yeong and Gyu-Ho's trip to Bangkok in 7&8 contrasted with the version we got in 5&6 was so well done; both versions fit together really well but cannot be fully reconciled because our memories are never perfect, and a person is not a character in a novel.

I also found myself pondering how they shot the scenes that reprise across Parts; did they have both directors on site for these moments and shoot them in the same day? The technical aspect of these is so interesting to me because of the different directors and how different these shots looked (not just in the nuances of how they were acted, but how they were coloured, framed, everything).

There's something in my head about how writing was what drove a wedge between them when they were together, what Yeong tried to use to keep them together forever on the lantern (and instead what tore up the lantern), and what he used to remember Gyu-Ho when they were apart.

Something also about how Eun Su was so much better off not being married, I was so relieved when we found out the wedding had been called off, and how the pressure to hide how he was feeling about what was happening in his life was what made him feel closer to Yeong.

I was just so relieved when the T-aras fell through that door after Yeong tried celebrating quitting his job by himself and instead fell into a depression for six days. I have had friends do a similar wellness check for me and I will never forget how loved it made me feel when I thought I was unlovable. I'm just so glad Yeong had the T-aras in his life; and their presence in this section was complicated but deeply moving. I'm still working through everything I think about how they functioned in the series, but I am so, so grateful for them, and to this series as a whole.

I absolutely loved it.

[johanna-swann]

Neutral-ish comment from a multishipper: That entire break-up didn't make any sense. Not in the "but they were supposed to be endgame 😢" way, I mean it really makes no sense.

Making Tommy Abby's Tommy was a funny idea (the fans have been joking about it for months) and if they'd just been a short fling it would've even fit into the continuity. But a 2 year engagement during a time when Tommy was still at the 118? During a time when he preferred to just not date because "single is easier" (2x16)? It's retconning, simple as that. They had an idea for a funny bit and didn't care about the timeline - as usual.

And Tommy's entire argumentation falls apart when you pay a little intention. He's scared of things getting serious because he thinks he'll get his heart broken. Yet he let Buck set the pace, gave him a second chance, went to a wedding with him for their second date, became friends with Buck's best friend and stayed with him for 6 months knowing right from the start he was Buck's first boyfriend? My guy, you're the one who made this a serious relationship despite everything.

Also the tone throughout the episode was so weird. Like. I think they really tried to frame Tommy as this sensitive guy who used to be a jerk because he was scared, but that's in the past and what matters is now. And then Tommy breaks up with Buck over his past or rather his dating history (or lack thereof).

The way they left things was so strange. Buck wants to build a life with Tommy, Tommy gets cold feet because he likes Buck too much and it makes him vulnerable. They're essentialy one step away from an I love you, so of course it makes sense they break up instead. What?

I was rooting for them, but I've been saying since the beginning that I'm totally down for a Bucktommy break-up and eventual Buddie canon IF the way they get there makes sense. This is not it.

Okay, I'm a little lost here...

If Tommy already knew that his and Buck's relationship wasn't going to last since it was Buck's first, why the fuck did he pursue it in the first place?

And if you take into account that line he said about Buck taking Eddie with him to the Lakers game, it makes it sound as though he knew Buck was craving Eddie's attention the entire time, but chose to ignore just for the opportunity to get a kiss and more out of him.

Which is really fucking shitty.

[feroluce]

Lucid Dreamer (1/2)

part 2

Gepard notices that it's been. Quiet lately. Like weirdly quiet. TOO quiet. He hasn't seen Sampo Koski in almost a week, which is about the longest he's ever been absent. And he is NOT worried. He's not! So what if they've been getting along more lately! So what if Gepard sometimes looks for him in his favorite hiding places! So what if he's been dreaming about blue hair and green eyes! It's nothing!!

But they're….strange, these dreams. Gepard doesn't usually remember what he's dreamt. It's out of his mind seconds within waking up. But these stick with him, they won't leave him be, they feel different somehow.

He dreams of Sampo bringing food to the frontlines and eating breakfast in his tent with him. Sampo always sneaks him extras. He dreams of chasing Sampo through the alleyways, Sampo sometimes letting himself be caught, Gepard sometimes catching him, and trying to ignore how it feels more like a game now more than anything else. He even dreams that Sampo tags along with him on one of his few civilian days. Sampo runs errands with him, prattles about inane bullshit while Gepard picks out groceries for the week, drags Gepard into some bakery he's never been to but he thinks Serval mentioned once.

And sometimes, it feels so close to reality, that Gepard half expects to see Sampo, shamelessly swaggering into the frontlines with all the guards' breakfast like his wanted poster wasn't only recently taken off the walls of Belobog. He's disappointed when it's always someone else instead. He tells himself his disappointment is ridiculous and if Sampo wants to go prowl around the Snow Plains or wherever he is, then fine. It's not any of his business.

…But it IS his job to investigate any unusual criminal activity relating to the frontlines. And the frontlines are Sampo's usual haunting grounds, and this is unusual activity, and Sampo IS technically a criminal, so it is absolutely part of his duty to look into this - is what Gepard tells himself the entire tram ride down into the Underground.

Natasha tells him he's gone, and Gepard has to steel himself. He knew Sampo made enemies wherever he went, there are a lot of people who would love his head on a platter, but he didn't think-

Natasha corrects him that she means literally gone. As in off-planet. Sampo always leaves her a note before he goes anywhere, so she knows not to expect any supply runs from him. He should be back in exactly two weeks. Thank the Preservation.

Gepard goes back home. He waits.

The uneasiness doesn't leave him.

"Where did you go?" Sampo stops dead in the middle of some story about Seele, and how you'd think someone with as blunt a mouth as her wouldn't have so much trouble asking a woman out, even if that woman IS the Supreme Guardian, and stares at him. He nearly fumbles his cigarette.

"Ahaha, what do you mean, I'm right here?" Sampo smiles at him the same way he always does. Gepard has no idea why he asked. It just popped out. He can never tell when Sampo is lying, anyway.

"I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time." Gepard idly mouths at his own cigarette. He almost never smokes, but he wants to ration their stocks of Blizzard Immunity, and it helps with the cold. It's seemed colder lately, for some reason.

Gepard flicks his lighter once, twice, sighs at the third time because a metal prosthetic and thick gloves make the damn things so difficult. Sampo reaches over and wordlessly kisses the end of his cigarette to Gepard's, lighting it. "Thank you."

Nothing happens for almost a full 30 seconds. Something churns behind Gepard's ribcage. Because Sampo never leaves a "thank you" hanging. This is the part where he gives his spiel about how helpful and kind he is and Gepard either brings up how long his rap sheet was before Bronya helped clear his name, or just stares deadpan because seeing Sampo squirm is weirdly satisfying.

"…I'll be back in one more week."

Gepard jolts awake in his cot, mouth dry and eyes bleary.

The hell.

The next dream he has, Sampo looks tired. Sometimes he seems normal. Sometimes he says strange things, like how he wishes he'd gone to some restaurant in Belobog. Ate his favorite food more recently. Brought something with him. Gepard asks why he can't do that now. Where would he bring something? Sampo only shrugs. His rebuttals have less energy.

Gepard doesn't know if he wants to dream more, or less.

He ticks down the days on his calendar. Natasha hasn't told him any different. She promised she would if she got any kind of message. Sampo returns tomorrow, from whatever vacation or seedy business dealings he's been off having. He is not excited about it. He is not looking forward to it. He's not!!

Gepard falls asleep late that night, unable to settle. He dreams again.

He's alone. There are tons of people everywhere, the frontlines are always crowded. But he's alone. They all pass right by him as though he were a ghost. Gepard starts to walk before he realizes his feet are even moving.

He checks the trashcans in the dead end alley. He checks the supply crates that someone always stacks too high because they don't feel like finding more space for them. He pauses to check the soldiers that march past him, watching their footprints in the snow.

He finally finds Sampo on the rooftop along the northernmost wall, the one that looks out over the plains, towards Everwinter Hill, towards where the Stellaron had once been kept. With a full moon and an entire land of white snow, Gepard can almost see clear out to the horizon.

"Found you." Sampo stiffens, and Gepard is almost prepared for him to sprint off the roof. He doesn't. But he doesn't relax either. Gepard sits down next to him and stares out at the wastelands.

"…I fucked up." It wasn't what Gepard had been expecting. Sampo never 'fucks up,' Sampo just gets into incidents that are entirely, supposedly, not his fault and that he just happens to always be within the vicinity of.

"What did you do now?" It must be really bad if Sampo is coming to the Silvermanes for protection.

Instead, Sampo ignores his question completely. "See out over there? Right on the other side of that mountain. There's a safe house that way. It's hidden under a lot of snow and dead trees, but it's there. And in that safe house is a box full of letters. I need you to deliver those letters for me."

Gepard's brow furrows. It's a weird favor to ask. Sampo would never tell anyone where his hidden safehouses were. It defeated the whole purpose of a hidden safe house.

Something is wrong, something is really really wrong.

Gepard turns back to look at him again and startles, all of his questions dying in his throat, because the entire left side of Sampo's head is suddenly matted down, dark and sticky, his skin is dyed red red red-

"In three more months, there's gonna be something big happening." Gepard grabs Sampo's hand and it feels slick and warm against his palm. "I won't be here. So I need you to do my end of things for me." Gepard tries to keep hold, but something is fading, something is slowing, the sun is coming up but the colors are all wrong, everything feels like encroaching fog, Sampo's hand slides right through his. "I was gonna come back with my mask to finish setting the stage, but…" Gepard makes a frantic grab for Sampo's wrist, the air twists, he comes back empty-handed. "They have you. And you're the Iron Wall of Belobog. So it'll be ok."

Gepard finally manages to find his grip, snatches the front of Sampo's dark wet jacket and yanks him forward to hold onto him, and this close up, he can see it better, his colors are bleaching out, leaking outside the lines as if Sampo will become part of the background, as if he's fading into the strange fog that's been closing in on them. His fingers are already starting to feel empty again.

"Wake up."

Gepard jolts awake, uncurls his hands from where they're fisted in the blanket, scrubs the dampness off his face. Breathes. Breathes. Breathes. Today is supposed to be the day.

He throws on his civilian clothes, and he goes down to the shipyard the IPC had built. He finds a spot where he can see every person that returns to Belobog, and he waits.

And he waits and he waits and he waits.

No one he recognizes appears.

[butchdykekondraki]

hi. thining about davesport again. look at my ramble boy

[villainsidestep]

……. 😒

[kentopedia]

nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

[rowarn]

SURPRISE, SURPRISE !

john "soap" mactavish / reader – 9.3k sale of a lifetime mini series !

tags: smut, developing relationship, virginity for sale trope, protective!soap, virgin!reader, afab!reader, no prns for reader, mean!soap? or maybe just intense!soap, soap is NOT beginner-friendly

cw: loss of virginity, soap's filthy mouth, fingering, multiple orgasms, wet&messy, sloppy blowjob, cum facial, squirting, crying during sex?/dacryphilia, consent check bc johnny is a GOOD MAN, intense heated sex to sex with feelings, cunnilingus, corruption kink if u squint, multiple rounds, sloppy sex tbh

;

It’s not like it’s hard to find someone to sell your virginity to, men come out of the woodwork offering you the money. It’s no problem at all to set up a little meeting and get to know them before you’re whisked away to a bedroom.

At least, that’s how it should be. 

The problem was there seemingly was always something that got in the way. Or rather…someone.

Soap, in fact. 

or.

After continuously getting in the way of your attempts to sell your virginity, you finally let yourself fall into bed with him instead.

You couldn’t believe you wound up here. You always thought it would happen in some sweet way. A long-time boyfriend or girlfriend, happy and in love. You’d snuggle up afterwards and be told how good you were.

But no, instead you became swamped in debt and ended up on the verge of eviction even though you were living in the cheapest apartment you could find that wasn’t in an area that would get you stabbed for stepping outside. You needed money fast and you had one thing that plenty of perverts would pay for; your virginity. It’s not your most crowning moment in life but as they say, you gotta do what you gotta do. 

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself so you don’t crumble under the shame of it all. 

When the chair across from you suddenly gets yanked out, feet scraping obnoxiously across the floor, making you nearly jump out of your skin. The man who sits down looks nothing like the picture he sent and you internally groan. He looks much older than you, no doubt in his mid 40’s, balding, and graying hair. You wouldn’t mind an older man if he were a little more…attractive. Sure, maybe that’s a bit shallow of you but fuck, it’s your virginity you’re giving away. You should be allowed to be picky with the man you choose! Under normal circumstances you would be so why not now?

Then again, this isn’t exactly normal circumstances was it?

You pick up the glass of the strongest drink you could handle that you ordered at the bar while waiting and downed it in one deep gulp. You gave the man a very fake smile and he grinned back, the sleazy sight making your stomach turn. 

You were going to need a lot more alcohol. 

The evening turned into night and you’re feeling the effects of the alcohol. Your ‘date’ doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest as you drink, if anything he seems elated. That thought makes you curl your lip in disgust. 

“So,” he starts when you finally lean back in your chair, having had your fill of alcohol for the night, “Shall we move this along? My place or yours?”

“You got the money you promised?” you ask, raising a brow, unsure if you sounded as drunk to him as you did to yourself.

“In my car,” he responds, grin sitting irritatingly lopsided on his ugly face, “Got it all ready for you. After services are rendered, of course.”

Anxiety coils in your stomach at the mention of what you have to do to get the money. It’s a lot of money and that makes your palms sweaty – you need it. You feel like there’s eyes on you from behind, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. When you turn to look around, there’s no one paying any attention to you. Everyone in the bar was having a nice time. You wish you were one of them. 

“Let’s get out here,” the man grins, “I am just achin’ to get my hands on you.”

He stands up but you find yourself rooted to your seat. Your entire body feels tense, you can’t find it in yourself to stand up. You don’t want to go with the guy, you decide. Your fight or flight activates with terrifying speed, alerting you of the danger you’re in. Though you’re not exactly sure what danger that is just yet.

“I think…” you start and the guy heaves a big sigh.

“Don’t tell me you’re backin’ out?” he grumbles, not bothering to mask his irritation, “After I came all this way? That’s awfully rude of you.”

“I just don’t think I want to–” he groans, embarrassingly loud.

You feel the eyes of nearby patrons on you and your cheeks burn under the scrutiny. Shame bubbles up inside you at the thought of them finding out what exactly was going on between the two of you. 

“Let’s go,” he snaps, his anger bubbling to the surface as he rounds the table and grabs hold of your arm.

You don’t bother fighting back as he yanks you to your feet, instead leveling him with a fierce glare. You don’t want to make a scene in front of all these people so you plan to let him drag out outside where you can really give him a piece of your mind before hopefully coming back inside and peacefully getting drunk alone.

But a sudden, growling voice has both of you freezing in place, “I don’t think you’re goin’ anywhere.”

Your eyes fall upon a man, standing tall and confidently. He has a mohawk, brilliant blue eyes and handsome features. Upon first glance, you could immediately tell he was in the military based on his posture alone. He was intimidating, broad and well-built.

“Hey, dude, why don't you mind your own fuckin’ business,” your ‘date’ snarled, yanking you harshly towards him.

You felt your eye twitch in irritation but your drunken brain was too slow to react properly. You were still hung up on the appearance of this rather good looking man. 

“This is my business,” the stranger said, Scottish accent thick as he took two big strides over to the both of you, “Why don't you just leave quietly so things don't have to get ugly?” 

Your ‘date’ stares the strange man down for a few seconds, taking a glance at you before kissing his teeth and ripping his hand off of you. 

“You ain't worth this shit,” he huffed, stomping off into the crowd. You could hear the bell over the door ring, announcing his final departure from the scene.

“Well, he was just a dandy fellow,” your rescuer jokes, a crooked grin settling on his face. His shoulders relaxed and he held his hand out, “Name’s Soap. How about I walk you home?” 

“That'd be great,” you responded, feeling your stomach starting to roll as the alcohol settled. You knew you were going to be stuck with your head over the toilet bowl soon and you'd rather be in the comfort of your apartment for that. 

“Let’s get a move on then,” he waved forward for you to lead the way. 

The crisp outside air had you sighing happily. You hadn't realized how hot you were in there but now that the light breeze brushed against your skin, you noticed how you had begun to sweat. 

“So you’re military, huh?” you ask, leading him in the direction of your apartments “Soap.” 

He chuckles, “You caught me.” 

You smile, “It's kind of hard to miss, no offense.” 

“None taken,” he assures, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “What were you doin’ with a piece of shite like that? Was he your boyfriend?” 

You sputter, “No! Nothing like that. I just…had a deal with him, that's all. I called it off and he got pissed. I'm sorta pissed at myself. Just missed out on a fuck ton of money.” 

Soap’s brows raise, “What kind of deal?” 

Your drunken brain forgets all about the fact such a deal should be kept quiet. Your mouth opens before you can stop yourself, “My virginity for his money. But I’m not like a prostitute or anything!” 

He holds his hands up as surrender when you get defensive at the shocked look on his face, “You need money that bad?”

“You have no idea,” you sign, pinching the bridge of your nose at the mere thought of your money troubles, “I never do this. You know? I-I mean obviously…with the virginity and all. But-!”

“I’m not judgin’ you,” he assures, “Hard times. But you should be careful. Lot’s of dangerous characters out there.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders as you come to a stop, “This is my place.”

“Right,” he mutters, “Let me give you my number.”

“For what?” you sputter, watching him pull out his wallet.

“Just in case,” he smiles, “I doubt anyone really knows what you’re dealin’ with right? I do. So if you’re ever in any trouble,” he hands you a business card, “Give me a call.”

You take the card and look it over. It’s got his name and military rank but not much else. You raise a brow, “Why do you have a business card on you?”

He chuckles, waving his hand flippantly, “Just ‘cause. I’ll see you around, darlin’.”

“Yeah,” you smile, stowing the card away in your pocket, “Thanks for walking me home, Soap.”

He stands outside of your place, waiting until you’re safely inside and shutting the door. When you peek out the window, you see him walking off in the direction that you had come from. You smile and go about getting ready for bed, grateful that you’re not feeling that awful nauseous pit in your stomach you had earlier.

When you wake up in the morning, you’re still dressed in your clothes and you have no recollection of having laid down the night before. You groan, your head throbbing in your skull as you sit up. 

You stumble your way to the bathroom, grimacing at the sight of yourself in the mirror. You take the time to start the shower and strip yourself, determined to scrub the grime from last night off of your body. 

By the time you step out, you’re feeling like a brand new person. You stretch your arms over your head and work on drying yourself off. Wrapping your towel around your body, gather your clothes in your arms, and trudge back into your bedroom. 

You look through the pockets of your jeans from yesterday, pulling out various coins and candy wrappers that you remember snacking on in the car to ease your nerves. You finally pull out the last thing – the business card Soap had given you last night. 

It all floods back to you, and you find yourself pulling your phone out, opening it to make a new contact under the name Soap.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, still wrapped in your towel, you shoot him a text.

“Hi Soap, remember me? You walked me home last night! I was just wondering if I could take this as a business inquiry?”

You aren’t sure where the burst of confidence came from. Last night, you would have never even thought to ask him such a thing. But the fact your plans fell through last night with that pig of a man, you kind of had no other choice at this point. 

And luckily for you, Soap texted back almost immediately.

“Sure, darlin’. We can consider it a business inquiry.”

Jackpot, you think. Not only is he very good looking and nice – if he has the money, then you can’t think of anyone better to sell your ‘goods’ to. 

He’s perfect.

Turns out, Soap is more than ready to meet up. Not at a bar, you’re thrilled, but at an actual restaurant. It almost feels like a real date!

You have the opportunity to dress yourself up and feel pretty. It feels so much better than meeting up with that guy at the dingy bar. Your nerves are almost non-existent. 

You still have that jittery feeling everyone gets when they’re going to be going out with someone new. 

But this isn’t actually a date, you have to tell yourself, as you get into your car to drive to the restaurant. It’s a meeting.

When you walk in, you’re greeted with the heavenly smell of food and what you can only deduce as something akin to mint. It’s a lovely restaurant, tablecloths and wine glasses everywhere. 

You look around the room before you spot him, sitting at a table in the far back nursing a glass of water. You make your way there, coming to a slow stop in front of the table. He looks up, blue eyes widening at the sight of you before he jumps to his feet. 

“You made it,” he says, a smile growing on his lips. 

He rounds the table and pulls your chair out, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Thank you,” you say as he pushes you in a bit before returning to his own seat. 

Soap situates his elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands as he gazes across at you. You feel your cheeks burn underneath his intense gaze, not able to gain the courage to look directly at him.

A waiter comes by, depositing a basket of fresh, buttered bread on your table, letting you know he’ll be around in a moment to collect your orders. You offer him a polite smile as he vanishes, acutely aware that Soap is still staring right at you. 

“Why are you…” you clear your throat, finally looking at him. 

“You look lovely,” he says, a smile growing on his face when you become more bashful, “You’re truly breathtaking, has anyone ever told you that before?”

You can feel how hot your cheeks are and you resist the urge to reach up and pat them in an attempt to cool them down. You’re at a loss for words, no clue what to say in response to that. You hadn’t been told anything like that before, actually. Nor has anyone ever looked at you with such infatuated intensity like he is right now. 

Thankfully, the waiter arrives to relieve you of this immense pressure. Pulled from his devoted admiration, Soap orders first before you put your own order in. 

Left alone once again, you and Soap fall into an easy conversation. You’re surprised by how nice it is to talk to him, he’s open and funny. He tells you about his buddies in the military and about how he goes out to drink every weekend with some guy named Kyle and that he thinks his buddy Ghost’s jokes are just the worst abomination on Earth. 

You get so lost in talking to him, you don’t even realize how much time has passed. Your food arrives and the table finally falls quiet. 

You both get lost in eating your meals. Soap finishes his glass of wine and leans back in his seat with a content sigh. When you finish your own plate, you do the same. The chair creaks underneath the shift of weight and your eyes meet his. 

You wait to see if he’ll say something. But he just continues to stare at you, drifting from your eyes and down the rest of your body that’s not hidden by the table. 

“So, should we get out of here?” you finally find yourself asking, burying any embarrassment deep down, “Your place or mine?”

Soap seems to falter suddenly, crooked smile slipping off of his face, “Listen, darlin’...I-I don’t actually want to…you know…”

Your cheeks burn a little and you shrink in on yourself where you sit, “Oh! Well, that’s fine. I-It’s just that you said it was an inquiry so…I assumed.”

Soap shakes his head, reaching across the table to place his hand over yours, “I know. I told you that just so I could see you. I’m just worried about you, darlin’.”

“You want to talk me out of it,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat again, “I appreciate your concern, Soap. But I’m really at the end of my rope here. This is my very last resort, you understand?”

“But you shouldn’t have to-!” you pull your hand out from underneath his and stand.

“I know,” you shrug, “I’m only doing what I can with my circumstances. I appreciate you taking the time to see me and let me know you’re worried. I’ll see you around, okay?”

You leave him behind at the table and make your way back to your car. As you sit, engine idling, the disappointment bubbles up within you. Soap is probably the absolute best you could have gotten in a situation like this. But, it’s clear now that you’re going to have to find a new guy. 

You just hope you don’t walk right into the clawed talons of some unknown serial killer or something. 

The thought sends shivers down your spine as you make your way back home.

So begins the process of finding a new person to get the money from. 

It’s not like it’s hard to find someone to sell your virginity to, men come out of the woodwork offering you the money. It’s no problem at all to set up a little meeting and get to know them before you’re whisked away to a bedroom. 

At least, that’s how it should be. 

The problem was there seemingly was always something that got in the way. Or rather…someone.

Soap, in fact. 

Around every turn, he was there to intercept the meeting you had with a man. 

A terribly boring man named Charles; Soap showed up at the bar you met at. The surprisingly young guy you weren’t even sure had enough money for his own monthly rent, Brandon; Soap was there. Justin, the doctor that lowkey gave you the creeps; Soap was there too. 

Every single time, the Scot would sit himself at the table and run the guy off, leaving you no choice but to go home alone and moneyless. 

You’re getting angrier with every passing day and before you know it, you’re calling him up and asking him to meet you. 

The second you lay your eyes on him, you’re marching right up to him.

“What the hell is your problem, Soap?!” you cry, practically nose to nose with him as you glare.

“Whoa, darlin’,” he holds his hands up in mock surrender, “Don’t know what I did to get you so wound up but-”

“You know exactly what you’ve done!” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “Why do you keep getting in my way?”

“That’s a mean thing to say to someone,” he responds lightheartedly. 

But then your glare wipes the smile off of his face and he sighs, running a hand through his mohawk. He stuffs his hands into his pockets, rocking anxiously back and forth on his heels as he seems to think over his next words carefully.

“I’m just lookin’ out for you, darlin’,” he assures, “This…isn't safe, what you’re doin’. You could get into somethin’ real serious. I just…want to make sure you’re safe.”

You deflate and sigh, “I already told you, Soap. I appreciate your concern but…”

Suddenly, he surges forward, big, rough hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls your lips to his. You gasp, hands resting against his chest as you allow yourself to melt into the kiss. 

When he pulls back, he seems almost nervous, “I wanted to kiss you really badly the first night I saw you.”

“So you like me?” you ask softly, not taking your hands off of his chest.

He reaches up, wrapping one of his hands around yours, “I’m afraid so.”

“Soap…” you start but he interrupts you.

“Johnny,” he says, “Call me Johnny.”

“Johnny,” you correct yourself, feeling your cheeks burn at the positively giddy look on his face, “I don’t know if…this…” you gesture between the two of you, “Is a good idea…with what I’m dealing with.”

His brows furrowed and a frown lines his lips. You find yourself wishing you could wipe the solemn look right off his face – it doesn’t suit him, “Just give me a chance, yeah? That’s all I ask of you.”

You sigh, “Okay, Johnny.”

You’re not sure why you gave in so easily to him. But the bright look returns to his eyes again and you find yourself feeling lighter. 

He steps back, slipping his fingers in between yours. He tugs you in his direction to follow him and you do, heart skipping in your chest as you look at your hand wrapped up in his. 

You haven’t been in a relationship in a very long time so this giddy feeling wasn’t one that you got to feel very often. 

Sooner than you’d like, he’s slipping his hand from yours to open the door to an apartment complex for you. You step inside and make your way down the hallway, tailing close behind him up to a door on the first floor – apartment 108. 

“It’s not much,” he gives you that charming, crooked smile as he opens the door.

“It’s better than my place,” you joke as you toe your shoes off.

“Have you had anything to eat?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket before hanging it on the rack by the door. You shake your head and he nods, “I’ll order us somethin’. Go ahead and make yourself at home.”

You watch him disappear into the kitchen as you look around his flat. It’s a modest apartment, a bit bare but there’s little bits of Johnny scattered around the place. There were picture frames on the walls and on different surfaces. The couch was navy blue and looked well loved. 

“Here’s some water,” he says, startling you as he comes back into the living room, “I ordered us some food, wasn’t sure what you liked so I guessed.”

You chuckle, taking a seat on the couch, “I don’t mind.”

“I’m not really,” he chuckles, sounding nervous, “Good at this.”

“Well,” you sink into the cushions, “I can’t say I am either.”

He laughs, a sweet, melodic sound that makes your cheeks flush, “Well, in that case. We can just…go with the flow.”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Go with the flow.”

By the time the food arrives, you and Soap are invested in watching a random season of The Bachelorette. Neither of you could decide so you looked online to find a wheel to spin to decide your fate for you. 

“Ugh,” Soap groans, “Can’t believe she’s goin’ on about how dreamy this bastard is. He’s a total tool!”

You giggle, holding one of his throw pillows against your chest as you sit. You’re about to add your own two cents when the doorbell rings. 

Soap jumps to his feet, “Fuckin’ hell, I could eat a cow.”

You admire the view of him from behind when he opens the door. His tight green t-shirt hugs the dip of his waist, riding up just a bit to show a sliver of tanned skin. His shoulders look impossibly wide as he stands in the doorway to take the food, muscles rippling beneath the fabric. His jeans sit low on his hips, belt tied tightly around them. 

Fuck, he’s good looking.

He turns, grinning and holding up the bags as if to show you his spoils. He raises one dark brow curiously, as if he knows what you’d been thinking.

“So,” he coos, saddling up next to you, placing the food on the coffee table, “Did you enjoy the view?”

You squeak, “I don’t think it’s polite to call out someone for looking…”

He cocks his head to the side and chuckles, leaning down to grip your chin, “Mind if I kiss you?”

“Now you’re asking?” you respond, breathless as you look at his lips coming closer and closer to yours.

“Aye,” he breathes. 

You nod and his lips are against yours in an instant. He supports his weight by placing his hands on the back of the couch. You have to crane your neck back to be able to kiss him but having him over top of you like this is exhilarating. 

You know you should stop before you get too carried away but you can’t seem to bring yourself to break away from him. Your attraction to this man is palpable and all consuming. 

Against your better judgment, you let him push you down, back against the cushions so he can crawl onto the couch. One knee on one side of you, he keeps one foot on the floor to straddle you without crushing you under his weight. But you wish that he would, fuck. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers slipping through the short hairs of his mohawk. He sighs against your lips, one hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat, just pinning you down so he can deepen the kiss. 

You find yourself tugging at his shirt, edging it up and up until he’s forced to pull away.

“Are you sure?” he asks, blue eyes swallowed by the black of his pupils when he meets your gaze. 

You nod, “Want you, Johnny.”

“I’ll give you all of me,” he promises, sitting up to yank his shirt over his head. 

It feels like the air evaporates from your lungs at the sight of him. He’s built, muscles rippling underneath a layer of fat – a man who is built for pure strength. His tanned skin is littered with tattoos here and there and hair speckles over his chest and stomach, a thick happy trail disappearing under his jeans. Which are tented with how his hardened cock presses against the fabric, desperate to be released. 

Your hand slips down the planes of his chest and down his tummy, cupping his erection. It twitches and kicks beneath your touch and pulls a groan from him. 

He reaches out, wrapping his hand around your wrist and bringing your hand to his lips where he places a kiss upon your palm. 

“Strip yourself, baby,” he orders, “Wanna see that pretty body.”

He sits back on his heels, watching your every movement as you slip your shirt off and shimmy your pants down your hips. 

When you stop, he realizes you're not going to take your panties off so he quickly does it for you. His thumbs hook into the band and yanks them down, making you squeal as the force jostles you. 

Soap chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his hands eagerly cup your breasts. You sigh at the contact, arching your back to press more into his touch. 

His kisses all over your chest, leaving no spot untouched, until he can pop one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimper, fingers sliding appreciatively through his mohawk while his other hand slips between your thighs. 

You easily part them, nearly panting by the time his fingers slip between your folds. You're already wet and sticky, drooling all over yourself with slick he uses to circle your clit. 

Your hips twitch as the first feeling of his rough fingers on the little bud. You cry out, tugging on his hair as he switches his mouth to give your other nipple proper attention. 

You arch your hips, his fingers sneaking down to prod at your entrance. With a glance at your face to make sure you're okay with it, he slides one in. 

There's a loud squelch when it sinks in to the last knuckle and you whine in embarrassment. 

He can't resist commenting, “So wet.” 

You whimper, lightly slapping his shoulder at his teasing. He chuckles, leaning up to press his lips against yours as he carefully works you open on that one finger. He presses and prods against your walls, waiting for you to relax so he can slip another one inside you — really prepare you for his cock. 

He presses against your g-spot and it rips a heavenly sound from your lips that only encourages him to do it again. You get wetter and wetter, throbbing and clenching around his middle finger. 

When he decides you're ready, he introduces a second finger. His ring finger easily fits in right alongside his middle. 

“There you go,” he praises, unable to resist looking down to see where his fingers are buried inside you, “That's it, baby, look at you go.” 

You gasp, eyes rolling back in your head when he adjusts his hand. His palm cups over your clit, the angle letting him really grind the tips of those digits right against that gooey little spot inside you. 

He watches the way you cream his fingers, milky colored slick dripping down his knuckles. It makes his mouth water. 

The movements rub his palm over your clit, stimulating the tender little bud and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You cry out, moaning and wailing the tighter that cord winds in your tummy. 

You clench and pulse against his fingers, a signal that you're going to cum for him. He works even harder, diligently worshiping your precious cunt until you toss your head back and sob. 

Your body trembles, thighs twitching in time to your walls squeezing around him. He moans with you, watching your pretty body in the throes of pleasure. 

When it becomes too much, you weakly reach down and bat his hand away. He slips his fingers out, watching you clamp your thighs shut. 

As you lay there panting and collecting yourself, he pops his cum-covered fingers into his mouth. He moans at your taste, slipping his tongue between them to catch every single drop of sweet cum he can get. 

By the time he finishes off the delicacy, you're watching him with lidded eyes and your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. 

“More?” he asks, a crooked grin on his face. You nod and he chuckles, “That looked like a good fuckin’ orgasm. Sure you can handle more?”

“If I can't,” you whisper, sitting up to tug at his belt, “You can make me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, reaching down to help you open his pants, “Want me to make you take it, baby? Make you cum on my cock until you can't even think?”

“Please, Johnny,” you whimper, not tearing your eyes off the sight of him stripping himself bare. 

His cock was fat and heavy, a thick patch of hair scattering the base with thick, full balls to match. You felt your mouth fill with saliva at the sight of his hand wrapped around his big cock, stroking himself languidly until enough precum had dripped out to slick himself up. 

“Let me hear it again, doll,” his eyes are heavy lidded as he looks at you laid out beneath him, breathless and sweating from the orgasm he’d worked out of you.

“Please, Johnny,” you whisper, needily reaching your hands out towards him. 

“Shit,” he grunts, “Alright.” 

He scoots closer to you, spreading your legs open for him. Your sticky folds part, exposing your swollen, sensitive clit and clenching hole that’s still drooling your creamy release. 

He slips the tip of his cock through the gooey mess, tapping it meanly against your little bud. Your knees flinch at the stimulation and your jaw drops open when he starts to push inside. 

It burns and you arch your hips away instinctively from the pain. He slips out and curses.

“You gotta relax, sweetheart,” he mumbles, hoisting your hips into his lap with an iron grip. 

“Can’t,” you pitifully whimper. 

Soap clicks his tongue, purses his lips and lewdly spits on your clit. You whine, hands covering your face when he uses his cockhead to smear it all over. 

When he starts to push in again, the burn starts but a rough thumb finds your clit. 

“Shh,” Soap soothes you, watching as the furrow in your brows vanishes. 

He works your clit in tiny circles as he carefully saws his cock in and out of your tight hole, inching a little bit more in every time. Your body grows pliant and soft, slumping against the couch until he finally buries himself to the hilt. 

“Thaaaaat’s it,” he praises, still rolling your hard clit under his thumb, “Good fuckin’ job. Take your reward, sweetheart.” 

He remains completely stuffed inside you, grinding his hips up just a little until he prods at that gooey little spot inside you. His thumb continues to swirl around your clit and he watches your eyes grow wide, a grin stretching across his face.

“C-Cummin’-!” you manage to gasp before you throw your head back. 

He groans, jaw falling open as he works you through the orgasm, rubbing your clit to ease you through every pleasurable wave. It’s only when you reach down, grabbing his wrist to stop him that he ceases. 

“Fuck,” you pant, pupils blown wide as he looks at you coming down. 

“Feels good cumming on cock, huh, sweetheart?” he asks, once again wearing that crooked grin on his face. 

You nod your head, still too fucked out from your orgasm to properly formulate words. He chuckles, carefully pulling back until only the thick head of him remains nestled inside. With a swift, experienced roll of his hips, he stuffs every single inch right back in. 

You wail, grappling haphazardly against his shoulders for stability as he starts to really fuck you. He punches so deep, makes you feel him in your tummy. The friction burns and feels incredible at the same time. 

It feels so fucking good that you can’t stop any of the sounds that are forced from your lungs with every mind-numbingly pleasurable thrust of his cock. You’re soaking him, dripping all creamy down his cock in a way he knows you’ve never done before. No way your own fingers could make you cream like this and he doubts you’ve ever sat this pretty cunt on any stupid toys. 

He groans, grinding against your clit every time he reaches as deep as he can, “Not gonna have shit to sell now, huh?”

You whimper, shaking your head as you stare at him wide eyed, drool dripping over your lips because you can’t close your mouth for even a second. There’s no way for you to quiet yourself, you’re loud, you wear every pleasurable experience on your face with no ability to hide or perform. Every reaction is real and authentic and he loves it. 

“Don’t think I can ever let you go after this, sweetheart,” he coos, slowing his thrusts so you can focus on looking at him, “That alright with you?”

You swallow thickly and shakily nod your head, “O-Only want you, J-Johnny.”

He snorts, sharp canines glinting at the predatory grin he gives you, “You only sayin’ that because you’re got your cunt stuffed full of my cock?”

You whimper at the punishing thrust he gives you, the pain of him battering your cervix making you tremble, “N-No! L-Liked you when I first saw y-you. I-I swear, Johnny. Please!”

“Alright, quit fuckin’ beggin’,” he snaps, leaning out of your reach, making you whine. 

He takes a mean grip of your hips, using just his strength to yank you onto his cock like a fleshlight. You wail, head tossed back against the couch as he really fucks you. Every thrust is too deep but gives you nothing but pleasure. He grinds against your clit every time he sinks in, making sure to also aim for the gooey little spot that gets you creaming around him. His fat, heavy balls slap against your ass every time he stuffs that cock into you. 

It’s all just too much. He should know better, really, treating a little virgin pussy so meanly. You’re too new to this, don’t know how to take such cruel, deep strokes. You’re squeezing tight, staring at him with wide, glassy eyes. He can’t stop the moan that tears from his throat at the sight of tears trickling down your cheeks – proof that this is all too much. 

But he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop. Not when he feels how tight you’re squeezing around him, how much wetter you’re getting as you get closer and closer to what he knows is going to be the best damn orgasm of your life. 

“Cum,” he whispers, shocked at how fucked his voice is from pleasure, “Cum right fuckin’ now.”

“W-Wait, Johnny-!” you wail, feet kicking as you fight against his iron-tight hold on you, “I-It’s…It feels w-wrong!”

“Stop fuckin’ runnin’,” he snarls, easily pinning you to the couch. He folds you up, knees to your chest as he presses his body weight down on you. He can feel the air being forced out of your lungs under the weight, “I said cum.”

You open your mouth, wanting to say something. But you can’t get the words you, only whimpers and tears. He doesn’t care what you had to say, though. All he cares about is feeling your tight little cunt cum around him so he can have his own orgasm. 

You still try to fight him from how intense the build up is. You slap against his shoulders, squirm and try to kick him off but he easily holds you down. Even as you fight, you never once tell him to stop. 

After a few, long seconds, he feels it. 

Fuck, does he feel it. 

You gush. It splatters all over his cock and stomach. He curses, slamming into you over and over, every thrust forcing another squirt out of you. You’re sobbing, fat tears falling down your cheeks and you’re moaning the prettiest damn symphony that has ever blessed his ears. 

The orgasm is too much, it’s intense and all consuming. You can’t come down, every time he stuffs you full, your orgasm continues to wash through you. 

“J-Johnny-!” you sob, “N-No more!”

“Fuck!” he snarls, cutting his own orgasm off when he pulls out of you. 

He pushes himself off of you and you curl in on yourself, softly sniffling and shaking in a little ball. He licks his dry lips at the sight of you covered in your own squirt. 

“C’mere, darlin’,” he coos, panting and breathy, hoisting you up and into his lap. 

He cradles you in his arms as you’re wracked with trembles and twitches, your nerves zapping through your body from the pleasure. He shushes you, cupping your chin to make you look at him. Your eyes are red-rimmed and wet from your tears, pupils blown out wide. He clicks his tongue and wipes his thumb underneath to swipe some away. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos, “Just get some breaths. Got a little overwhelmed, huh?”

You nod, slumping against him with a sigh when you finally feel like you’re back in your body. Johnny is solid and sweaty beneath you, warm and comfortable as he cups the back of your head and strokes his hand over your body. 

“I-I’ve never um…” you clear your throat, cheeks burning hot.

“Knocked your damn socks off, huh?” he jokes, a crooked smile on his face. 

You giggle, endorphins still rushing through your body. You shift on his lap and catch the pinch in his brow before he can school his expression back into place. You look down, biting your lip at the sight of his cock still hard and twitching, smeared in a creamy mess of your cum.

“Ah, it’ll go down on its own, darlin’,” he assures, no irritation to be seen or heard from him. 

One look in his eyes shows you that he’s perfectly prepared to go without his well-earned orgasm – just for you. 

But you don’t want that, you realize. He had made you feel incredible, given you an orgasm that you’ve never been able to experience in your life. You doubt anyone else will ever be able to make you do it again. 

“I-I want to help, Johnny,” you whisper, trying to swallow down your nerves. 

His brows raise in interest, “What did you have in mind?”

You slide off of his lap and slowly sink to your knees. You place your shaky hands on his thighs to steady yourself, looking up at him with wide, too-innocent eyes. 

He lets his head fall back against the back of the couch, a breathless, “steamin’ blood Jesus,” following. 

“I-I’ve never done this,” you confess, though he’s not surprised, “Is that okay?”

“Is that-” he laughs softly, “darlin’ any man who isn’t appreciative of you willin’ to swallow his cock is a man you kick in the balls, got that?”

You giggle, nerves dissipating as he wraps a hand around the base of him. You scoot a bit closer when he holds it out for you, waiting for you to do what you please with it. Your tongue falls from your mouth and Soap feels like he’s suspended in air as he watches you get closer and closer to the sensitive, leaky tip. 

The first contact feels better than he could have imagined. He’d gotten so fucking close earlier, buried in your cunt as you came around him, squealing for him and all. He knows it won’t take much to send him over the edge this time. 

Perfect practice for you, he thinks. You won’t have to be on your knees for too long or do any real work to get him to cum for you. 

You’re clumsy and it’s clear you’re unsure about the taste of his cock. It’s not just his precum, it’s your own cum mixed with it. He can’t blame you for being unsure.

He reaches down, a soft, gentle hand resting atop your head to encourage you. When you look up, he smiles so softly at you that it makes your heart jump in your chest. You suddenly feel like you’re the center of his world. Those baby blues never once waver from you as you sloppily lick and slurp on the tip of him. 

“Take a little more,” he whispers, lashes fluttering and chest rising as he takes a deep breath when you eagerly follow his directions. 

Your pretty lips stretch around the girth of him, taking just the head inside your hot little mouth. The flared glans are greeted by your curious tongue, making him whimper when you lick. Your mixed taste lingers on your tongue but you quickly grow accustomed to it. 

Feeling braver from Johnny’s unfiltered reactions, you take a little more into your mouth. Then more. And a little more until you suddenly choke, gagging around him. You pull your head off, sputtering and coughing a bit. 

Johnny coos at you, thumbing away some drool on your chin, “Not too deep, darlin’. You’re not ready for that.”

You hum, not at all discouraged from taking him back into your mouth again. You don’t take him as deep, accepting that you have your limit – for now, judging by Johnny’s subtle promise of more to come. 

“Just suck, watch your teeth,” he whispers, not caring about the way his voice cracks, “Move your head like this. Go at your own pace, alright?”

You lazily blink up at him, hoping he understands your agreement. You do as you’re told, folding your lips over your teeth to keep them away from his sensitive skin. Bobbing your head feels awkward and it makes your jaw ache but the sounds Johnny begins to make makes you temporarily forget about your own discomfort. 

His eyes are rolling back in his head and he starts to stroke the rest of his cock that your mouth can’t handle yet. You can’t tear your gaze away from the sight of those thick, veiny fingers wrapped around himself, getting covered in a slick mess of your cum that he had so generously fucked out of you earlier. Drooling all over him like this only gives him more of a mess to work with. It’s gross, frothy and dripping down your chin and neck, slicking up your tits.

It makes your cunt tingle selfishly. You think you could make yourself cum, slip your hand between your legs and stroke your clit until you find release. But you don’t – you focus on Johnny and his pleasure. He’d already given you so much that you don’t want to come across as greedy by making his moment about your own pleasure. 

Johnny’s free hand grip around the back of your neck, squeezing and caressing your skin as encouragement since his mouth is too busy moaning. You take his sounds as signals, sucking and moving at whatever pace makes him cry out the loudest. 

You had no idea men like him were willing to be as loud as he was. Usually, the masculine type of guys like him would be online whining about how moaning was ‘gay’ or some stupid shit.

Johnny didn’t seem to give a fuck. If he felt good, he was going to let you know. It made you feel more at ease, like you were doing a good job even though you knew you were still clumsy and it probably didn’t feel as good as head he’s surely gotten in the past. 

But it encouraged you to work harder to please him, to earn more of those beautiful, unfiltered moans that he was so willing to give you. They were your reward for the intense ache in your jaw.

“F-Fuck,” he groans, suddenly, eyes opening from when he had closed them at some point, “I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

His words are slurred, like his brain’s oozed down to his cock, too stupid to think of anything except how heavy and full his balls felt. 

“Shit, shit, shit-!” he whimpers, an honest to god whimper, “Off, pull off!”

You do as you’re told, releasing his cock from your mouth. Strings of frothy drool connect your lips to his tip and you don’t dare break it, the sight making you clench around nothing. 

Johnny strokes his cock, another loud moan erupting from his lips as he cums. It spurts out, splattering against your cheek, making you flinch in surprise. You can see the way his balls throb in time to each rope of cum that his fat cock spits out. More splatters on your cheeks and lips and across your nose until it tapers off to slow, thick oozes that dribble over his knuckles. 

When he lets himself go, he sags against the couch, staring dazedly at the ceiling as his erection flags and grows soft. 

When he finally looks at you, you can see his eyes widen almost in alarm. He leans forward, cupping your cheek, messily swiping some of his cum off of your cheek.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbles, still sounding breathless, “Didn’t think you were gonna get splashed with it.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, feeling his cum still lingering on your lips.

You can’t resist sticking your tongue out to taste it. His eyes darken at the sight of you licking up his cum. You don’t make a face of disgust like he expected, instead he catches the way your thighs clench together.

“Is that right?” he mumbles, cock twitching in interest, “Isn’t that an interesting development? You like to taste cum, sweetheart?”

You whimper when he swipes more up onto his thumb, bringing it to your lips for you to suck off, which you eagerly do. You suck his finger clean until he pulls it back out, pupils blown wide, making his blue eyes look black.

“You ever had that pretty cunt eaten before?” he asks, a predatory grin splitting across his face when you shake your head.

His hand wraps around your throat, ripping a moan out of your throat. He easily manhandles you onto your knees, tits pressed against the cushions of the couch with a nasty “stay.”

You never thought you’d enjoy being manhandled and ordered around like a dog but fuck if you’re not learning more about yourself tonight. 

Soap smacks your thighs apart, and slips his head between them. You take a glance down and nearly choke at the sight of him laying on his back, staring hungrily as you cunt drips gooey, sticky strings right onto his waiting tongue that he holds out for it. 

The sight is so fucking filthy. 

But it’s nothing compared to the sounds he makes when he gets that tongue on your cunt. He slurps between your folds, groaning at the taste of your cum on his taste buds. He swallows your clit, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks. 

You’re already a moaning mess, crying out into the cushions which you claw desperately at. Your eyes roll up into your head when you feel him pop your clit out of his mouth, spit on it, and then slurp it right back up. 

He eats so fucking dirty, it’s disgusting and sloppy. But it makes you rut your hips against him. 

Soap chuckles, pulling back to watch you work your hips over nothing before you realize he stopped and whine.

“Fuck yourself on my tongue then,” he whispers, earning him a relenting whimper in response. 

You can feel the flat of his tongue, hot and thick, against your clit. The little bud’s so hard, swollen and pulsing against the muscle. 

With his order ringing in the back of your head, you clumsily hump his tongue. You drag your sensitive little clit back and forth along the surface of his tongue. It feels so fucking good that you actually sob. The sound tears from your chest and makes his cock twitch. 

You rut faster and faster, not caring about the way you’re messing up his face when you move too high or too low. You know there’s a mess on his chin, cheeks and nose but you don’t care. His tongue is there for you, for you to cum all over. He’s so good to you, holding it out just so you can use him as you please. 

As you grow closer and closer, your moans change in pitch and he suddenly reaches up, stilling you. You groan, an irritated sound that makes him laugh. You frown at that but it’s quickly wiped away when he grips your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so he can stuff his tongue into your creaming cunt. 

You shout, sitting straight up in surprise, your weight falling onto his face. He moans at that, rewarding you by pushing his tongue even deeper. It feels odd, different from his fingers and his cock. It’s soft and almost slimy, not long enough to quite reach any pleasurable place. 

But just the fact that he’s got his tongue buried in your pussy is enough to have you clenching on it. He watches you through heavy lids, waiting to see what your next move is. 

He’s enjoying your little show, he must admit. He likes seeing a sweet, clumsy virgin experience these things for the first time. He likes the fact he’s breaking you in, tearing your walls down and seeing you lost in mind-numbing pleasure. 

You surprise him by resuming the motion of your hips. You hump back and forth, riding his tongue like it’s a little toy just for you. And he supposes it is, he’d be a toy for you if you so wished. He’s addicted to this sweet, creamy little pussy and he’s not afraid to admit it. 

You reach down, swirling your fingers around your sticky clit. There’s lewd clicks that accompany the movements along with the sound of his tongue sliding in and out of your hole. 

You meet his gaze, he’s staring so intensely at you. It spurs you on, makes you fuck yourself on his face more confidently. 

You tap your fingers against your clit, slapping the little bud and pulling your fingers back to show Soap the sticky strings of slick that connect them to your cunt. He can’t stop himself from reaching down, wrapping his hand around his cock, jerking himself off to the sight of you smacking your clit and fucking his tongue. 

You’re pulsing around it, dripping down his face and mixing with the drool that's pooling out of his mouth. His face is a mess, it drips down his cheeks and under his neck. He’s sure there’s a pool beneath his head that will need to be cleaned up and fuck, he’ll lick it from the floor if you let him. Just as long as he gets to taste you again. 

You gasp, tossing your head back. His cock fucking aches, harder than it was before and more sensitive now that he’s already had an orgasm. He knows he’s leaking, drooling sticky precum all over himself like the horny mutt he is. 

You cum spectacularly, twitching and trembling, rubbing your clit and clenching around his tongue. It’s like a reward, swallowing down your cum straight from the source. He pulls his tongue out of your hole and wraps his lips around your clit again. 

You wail, shaking and throwing yourself face down against the couch again. You try to wrench your hips away from his punishing mouth but he wraps his arms around your thighs and continues to slurp and slobber all over that tender little bud. Your eyes roll back in your head as another orgasm tears through you, far too soon after the other. It almost hurts from how sensitive you are through it, not even able to make a sound as it washes over you. 

Only when you’re left twitching and trembling does he finally relent. There’s tears falling out of your eyes and drool dribbling down your chin. The picture of fucked out.

He laughs, folding himself over your back. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kissing your shoulder.

You whimper, “Fuck, you’re so good, Johnny.”

He chuckles, “Think you can take more?”

You eagerly nod your head and he doesn’t waste any time. He sinks his cock into you in one deep thrust. You choke on a moan, arching your back so you can feel him even deeper. 

He doesn’t start slow like he did before. He knows your little cunt is fucked nice and open for him now. You’re still dazed, drunk on endorphins, any attempts to meet his thrusts are sloppy and clumsy. It’s cute so he doesn’t bother stopping you. 

“Spread your legs,” he orders you but doesn’t wait for you to do it. 

Instead, he meanly knocks them apart, opening you up even more. His balls slap against your clit and you wail, the exact reaction he was hoping for.

“There you go,” he laughs, “You liked slapping that little clit earlier. How’s this?”

“So good!” you cry, kicking your feet against the floor as pleasure washes through you. 

You feel like a live wire, every movement forcing you closer and closer to your next orgasm. Soap isn’t far behind you, too sensitive and worked up to draw it out for long. 

He clasps the back of your neck, pinning your face to the cushions as he fucks. He takes and takes, using your sticky, gooey cunt. He’s pounding into you, hips slamming against your ass and his balls slapping your clit. 

You can’t even say anything as the orgasm washes over you. He only feels it, the rhythmic clenching of your walls and the gush as you squirt. You’re silent, completely still against the couch as he saws his fat cock in and out, squirt after squirt of cum splattering all over his thighs until he inevitably reaches his own end. 

This time, he fills you up. Seats himself as deeply inside of you as he can before he moans. His cock pathetically spits only a few strings of cum but the orgasm lasts far longer, encouraged along by the clenching of your cunt as you’re coming down. Or maybe you’re still cumming, he’s not sure. 

There’s a faraway look in your eyes, a wet spot of drool underneath your cheek on the cushion of the couch. You’re panting and glistening with sweat. When he pulls out of you, you drop to sit on the floor, the measly load he had given you drooling out of your cunt as it continues to clench and throb around nothing. 

Fuck, he’s never felt so proud to fuck someone brainless before. He knows you’re gonna need a good bath and cozy arms to sleep in. 

And his are the best around, if he does say so himself. 

He kisses up your spine, curling himself around you as you finally start to come back to yourself, pliant and soft. The both of you sit there, holding one another and sharing soft kisses until he decides it’s time to move. 

He’s in no rush, though. He’s wrapped around your finger now and you’re never getting rid of him. 

do not modify, translate, repost, or use for c.ai. reblogs OK!

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.