#like hes right there steve🤠

[sadhours]

Harringrove x reader. ur left sharing a small tent sleeping. boyfriend billy on the right steve the left. your feeling some sexual tension w billy despite you both agreeing not to do anything with ur friends. but he wakes up noticing u staring at his pretty face. He can’t help it-moving even closer to u and kisses you. Eating you up. It’s so sloppy. So intimate and cosy. It’s so loud that Steve wakes up. Once he sees you and billy kissing he moves closer behind you and 😳 double p-

1st billy- then when Steve’s about to insert himself you feel slightly nervous- and you whisper Billy’s name. He brings your head onto his neck praising you to take steve. Once steves inside you and ur comfortable-that’s it. They’re using you for their release. Hard and fast. You hold onto Billy’s muscular form almost crying with how good it feels.

some Harringrove moments- maybe they feel their cocks rubbing against each other at one point ?

Sorry for such the detail I’m not too sure abt it- I’ll let you cook this up or change it - inspired from ur amazing Harringrove smut. I’ve never ever requested Harringrove x reader and some may say I have had my big amount of ideas 🤠

🤤🤤🤤

absolutely, being sandwiched between the two of them is my fckn dream

It’s almost like a cruel joke— the way Steve ended up in the same tent as you and Billy. You’re sure it’s been done on purpose because you’d off-handedly mentioned to Billy that Steve looked good in his Scoops Ahoy! uniform the other day. You and Billy were getting some ice cream after your shifts at the pool ended, Steve and him had become quick friends recently. You weren’t exactly sure how it had happened but they were hanging out suddenly and Steve gave you guys discounts whenever you stopped by to get ice cream. Anyways, you’d both witnessed Steve getting shot down by a group of girls and Billy had laughed, suggesting that it was the dumb uniform to which you shrugged and said he looked cute in it. Immediately afterwards, you looked at him with wide eyes, expecting Billy to be angry but he actually seemed amused— intrigued even.

When Billy invited Steve along to the little camping trip with your guys’ group you were shocked at first but figured, they’re friends now so it wasn’t weird. Until it was time for bed and Steve followed you and Billy into your tiny, two-man tent. But it was totally fine, it wouldn’t be weird because you and Billy discussed not having sex during the trip for the sake of your friends. You were loud, everyone would know and you didn’t want to subject them to that.

Billy’s keeping up his end of the deal, eyes closed and steady breathing. The moonlight peeking into the tent shines beautifully on his face and you’re most definitely staring. He’s so pretty it makes your stomach do flips, you could stare him all day and in fact, when you have the time, you do. You watch his eyes barely move behind his lids, you’re a little impressed by how quickly he can fall asleep. As your eyes rake over the curve of his nose you can’t help but reach your fingertips up to brush against it. Billy’s face squishes up in reaction, his eyes blinking open to meet yours and a lazy smirk spreads across his lips. He turns on his side, facing you completely and copies your earlier movement, brushing his fingertips from the bridge of your nose to its tip. You giggle softly and something shifts in the mood, Billy grabs onto your jaw and leans down to press his lips to yours. The kiss is hungry, Billy grunts softly into it before biting your lower lip and tugging on it. You gasp softly and he takes the opportunity to lick eagerly into your mouth, hand moving from your jaw to your breast and squeezing it through your thin tank top. It’s so sloppy and you try to focus on Billy and not Steve’s back pressed against your own but you panic a little bit, knowing he’s bound to wake up to your and Billy’s sounds.

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, shoving his hand down the front of your pajama pants and underwear, cupping your pussy in his hand as he sucks on your tongue. There’s no possible way you can stop the little moans erupting from you, especially when Billy slides his fingers between your folds. Your whole body feels on fire and you can’t deny you’re turned on by the fact that Steve’s so close while Billy fingers you. However, you feel Steve turn over and you freeze, pressing your palm to Billy’s chest to push him back an inch.

“Shh,” your boyfriend smiles at you, “It’s okay, right Harrington?”

You feel Steve’s hand snake over your hip and you feel his breath against your ear, “I don’t mind at all.”

Suddenly, you’re sure they’ve planned this and while you think you should be upset, you’re not. You’re incredibly aroused by it, actually. Billy must feel as much as his fingers slip inside your aching hole with ease and he smirks at you.

“Is this okay?” Steve asks you softly, his hand moving up to cup your breast, “If I join?”

You knit your eyebrows together, wanting to say yes immediately but looking to Billy for reassurance.

“It’s up to you, darlin’,” Billy purrs, lowering his lips against yours.

You gasp as Steve squeezes your tit and Billy curls his fingers inside, “Yes, I want it!”

You feel Steve’s lips curl against your neck just as Billy lets out a soft chuckle before he’s licking back into your mouth. It’s already pretty overstimulating but your body tingles all over when you feel Steve licking and kissing your neck. You moan but it’s stifled by Billy’s tongue while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Billy pulls away, saliva connecting between your lips and he makes a guttural noise as he looks over to where Steve’s sucking bruises into your skin.

He sits up, his fingers still inside you and it’s a team effort between the boys as they awkwardly pull your pajamas and underwear down. Steve grabs a hold of your thigh and pulls your leg over his waist, spreading your legs wide as your boyfriend fingers you relentlessly. Steve’s long fingers find your clit and he rubs circles against it, breathing heavy in your ear.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, eyebrows raising as your chest heaves with your own labored breathing.

Billy bites his lip, watching as his fingers disappear inside your dripping pussy.

“You’re so wet,” Billy comments, voice low, “Thinking about Steve in his uniform?”

Your face flushes, eyes widening at Billy while Steve scoffs beside you, “Got a thing for sailors?”

Billy chuckles, “She’s got a thing for pretty boys. Don’t ya, sweetheart?”

You can’t even answer, you’re not sure any words would come out so instead you nod, hips writhing against the pair of hands on you. The sounds that do come out of you are euphorically induced, uncontrollable. You’ve always been loud, Billy had to keep his hand over your mouth most times. Out here in the forest, he doesn’t seem to care and you’re too blissed out to even think about it. Everything feels too wonderful. Steve’s kissing your jaw and cheek and Billy reaches his free hand up and turns your face to Steve, groaning when Steve licks into your mouth. It’s different kissing Steve but it’s not bad, he’s not as eager as Billy, he’s slower.

Billy sighs softly and you can’t help but open your eyes and look over at him. He’s got his left hand wrapped around his cock, stroking lazily as he watches you kiss Steve while still thrusting his fingers inside you, but his pace has slowed. It’s fucking hot, seeing Billy so worked up at the sight of you kissing his friend. Steve grinds his hips up and you can feel his erection against the back of your thighs. You feel like you’ve won the fucking lottery or something. Two of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, right here at the same time. You don’t feel so guilty about your crush on Steve anymore.

“Fuck,” Billy exhales, squeezing at the base of his cock. “So hot.”

Steve leans back from the kiss and easily maneuvers you on top of him, your back against his chest. When Billy pulls his fingers out, you stubbornly whine at the loss but Steve’s holding your legs open as Billy positions himself between them. He slaps the head of his cock against your pussy and you moan out, leaning your head back against Steve’s shoulder. Your boyfriend doesn’t tease anymore, prodding his tip against your entrance.

“Pull her legs up, Harrington,” he instructs and Steve obeys, hands smoothing over the backs of your thighs and he holds them up for Billy.

Billy sinks in, groaning lowly as he bottoms out. You cry out, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation of Billy stretching you out.

“Jesus,” Steve comments, “She’s loud.”

“Yeah,” Billy grunts, “Have to fucking gag her half the time.”

The way they’re talking about you and not to you is surprisingly hot, you kind of like feeling like an object to them. You’re totally happy to let them use you however they please.

“Your dick is thick as hell, though,” Steve muses, “Poor thing probably can’t help herself.”

Billy laughs lowly, rolling his hips which pulls another sound from you and Billy tsks, “Feels good, doll? Am I stretching that tight pussy out?”

“Uh-huh,” you whine and you can feel Steve groan, the sound from his chest vibrates against your back.

“Just you wait,” he says beneath you and your eyes widen up at Billy.

He smirks, licking his tongue against his bottom lip and nods, “Oh, yeah, we’re gonna stretch you out nice and good, baby.”

“Billy…” you whine out, reaching up to grab onto his shoulders while he thrusts his cock deeper.

“You ready?” Billy asks and you look up at him with uncertainty. He pouts, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I think she needs to be warmed up a little more, Harrington.”

“I can help,” Steve props his knee up so he can keep your thigh held up for Billy while he moves his hand around to rub at your clit again.

“Ah, perfect,” Billy drawls, “She’ll be ready after she cums.”

He pistons his hips quicker as Steve works against your clit, it’s all so intoxicating and you already feel like your floating up to the clouds. You keep your eyes open, watching your boyfriends face intently as he fucks you open. Billy looks almost drunk, glassy eyes with his lips parted and his eyebrows knit together. He’s so beautiful it makes you feel dizzy. The head of his cock pounding against your g-spot helps, along with Steve’s firm fingers playing at your clit. The pressure building up in your stomach is working quicker than ever before, you’re not even sure how that’s possible. Billy’s gotten to know your body well, he can make you cum pretty quickly when he wants to but this is entirely new. You can’t even bring your orgasm along this fast by yourself.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” you blubber, “i’m… oh my fucking god!”

The pair of them double down, Billy thrusts even harder and Steve rubs your clit faster. You see white as your orgasm crashes into you, causing your body to seize and then thrash between the men. You’re screaming, you’re sure of it, your throat feels raw when you come to, panting against Billy’s mouth, you can’t even remember when he put his lips against yours. You blink repeatedly as he pulls away, this almost devious look in his eyes.

“Goddamn,” Steve grunts.

Billy pulls out of you and lays down on his back, grabbing you and pulling you on top of him. He kisses you deeply, smoothing his hands over your ass before he slips his cock back inside of you. You whine, feeling like you might actually cry. He wraps his arms around your middle and keeps kissing you through the whimpers you make. Then you feel Steve’s cock poking against you and your eyes widen again, looking to Billy with panic. He rubs his big hands against the small of your back.

“Billy…” you whisper, voice shaky.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, “You can take him too.”

You bite your lip, nodding to your boyfriend as you wait for the stretch of your life. You’re nervous but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t fantasize about this. “Okay,” you breathe, smiling at Billy.

Steve slides in alongside Billy and they both make low, throaty groans and you’re preening at the sounds. It helps the burn, knowing they’re enjoying the feel of their cocks rubbing against each others. You think about the possibilities of this becomes a regular thing with them. You’d really like to kiss the both of them at the same time. You press your forehead against Billy’s shoulder, trying to get adjusted to the feeling of two thick cocks stretching you out.

“Such a good little cock slut,” Billy purrs and Steve’s hips jerk at his words, urging himself deeper inside you which pulls a cry from your chest.

“Fuck, sorry,” Steve apologizes, hands grabbing onto your hips while Billy’s wrap against the back of your neck.

“No… felt good,” you whimper, grabbing onto Billy’s bulging biceps.

They both seem to take that as the go ahead, rolling their hips and your mind goes fuzzy. Their fingers are bruising where each of them holds you, thrusting in sync brutally. The noises they make flood your ears and you might’ve died and gone to heaven. It’s excruciating, how stuffed and satisfying it feels.

“Fuuuuuck,” you moan out, turning your face to catch Billy’s lips in a dazed kiss. Steve’s hand smooths up your back and grabs a fistful of your hair while he thrusts up inside you. He pushes your face down against Billy’s, forcing the kiss deeper.

Billy’s hands move down to your ass and he pulls your cheeks apart, holding you open while the two of them drill into you. It feels almost unreal, but you chase the fact that this is reality, you’ve really got Steve and Billy’s cocks stretching you out.

“Such a good girl,” Billy purrs.

“Mm, doing so well,” Steve supplies just as Billy smacks your ass.

The praise sends you over the moon, your eyes flutter closed. This is beyond your expectations. This is wonderful. This is earth shattering. This is fucking everything and you’re absolutely drunk on it. They’re fucking you raw, so hard and fast and you’re feeling used in the best way possible. You’re hoping and praying this turns into a regular thing.

“Wish you could see her face, Stevie,” Billy growls, “She looks so fucked out.”

Steve kisses against your cheek before pulling your hair to turn your face so he can see it, “Still with us, sweetheart?”

“Unh…” if they thought you were capable of the English language at this point, they’re sorely mistaken. You’re an absolute puddle. Words barely have any meaning, all you know is you’ve never experienced ecstasy like this and you’re fucking loving every second.

They each give a pleased little laugh, both breathless as they try to feign control, like they’re not both so close on the edge. You feel special, so so so deeply special and on top of the fucking world. The sheer stretch of the two of them shoved inside you made your eyes cross, had your whole body shaking, was so irrevocably pleasurable that you weren’t sure you could recover. They’d fuck you dumb, that much was guaranteed. You realize tears are streaming down your face only when Billy’s wiping them away and kissing you softly.

“You’re taking us so well, baby,” he encourages, “you’re doing so good, you’re such a good girl for me.”

“Billy….” You whine out, grateful you remember any words, particularly your boyfriends name. “Billy, billy….” You chant it because it grounds you, keeps you tied to reality.

Their thrusts match in desperation, both making incredibly pretty sounds that make your ears hot. It’s matched by their strong, big hands moving over your body. There’s a pair grabbing onto your tits, they must be Steve’s judging by the angle which means Billy’s are the pair gripping and pulling at your ass. You’re elated, floating practically as they fuck into you relentlessly. It’s brutal, rough in the way you need. Steve pulls you up by your hair, your back flush against his chest and he kisses you deeply. Billy digs his fingers in your hips, eyes scanning up and down your body and then to where you and Steve are sloppily making out. Steve moves his hand down and presses his fingers to your clit.

“Fuck,” you choke out, all the sensations they’re serving you is becoming almost too much. You can’t tell if you want to push them away or pull them closer.

“Baby,” Billy coos, smoothing his hand up over your side, “Sweetheart, you gonna cum for us?”

“Uh-huh…” you whine, “M’so close… feels so good.”

Steve kisses against your ear before whispering, “Come on, babygirl. Give us what we want.”

You’re sent over the edge, your second orgasm ripping through you with a cry and everything goes fuzzy for a few seconds. Then Steve’s pushing you back down, pistons his hips faster while Billy’s rock up to meet his thrusts. Billy captures your lips in a kiss, there’s hands running all over along your body but you can’t tell who’s who. Then Steve makes a strangled groan and you feel his cum filling you up, at least you’re assuming it’s his by the noise he makes. Billy hums against your lips, moving his hips harder into you and then he’s making a similar sound to Steve and you feel more cum filling you up and you whimper, holding onto Billy’s muscular chest for dear life. The feeling of their cum mixing together inside you is unmatched and you make a small whine as they each pull out of you. Steve collapses beside you and you remain clinging to Billy. You fall asleep like that, Billy rubbing soothing circles against your back and whispering softly how good you did and how beautiful you are.

When you wake up, you feel sticky and honestly, dirty. A shower would be greatly appreciated but as you open your eyes you’re reminded that you’ll be in the forest for one more night so a dip in lake is gonna have to do instead. You hear Steve mumbling something incoherent sleepily and feel Billy’s breath against your face and then you realize you’re sandwiched between the two of them, they’re both holding you tightly. It’s a wonderful thing to wake up to. You feel so warm inside.

Billy kisses your cheek and then nudges his nose against yours, “Good morning, darling.”

You hum, “Morning.”

Steve mumbles something again from behind you and tightens his grip on you.

“Can we do that again?” you whisper to Billy, blushing.

He smirks down at you, “What do you think we’re doing tonight, doll?”

#harringrove x you #harringrove x reader #billy x steve x you #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove smut #billy x steve x reader

[certifiedtrashmouth]

#27 for your Spotify list 🤠

TRACK 27 - ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap (eddie munson x fem!reader, steve harrington x fem!reader mention)

a/n: alright. let’s spice this up. please be kind i don’t write smut often unless i feel so inclined lol 

warnings: angst, cheating, oral (f receiving), smut (p in v, implied unprotected as there’s no mention of protection). Aka… mdni. :)

“and it may not mean much to you - but your plates are in his sink, your sweater’s on his bed. won’t you text me when you’re home? my baby, spare me all the rest.”

You’re not his to keep. He knows this, you know this - it doesn’t stop whatever’s happening between the two of you. 

Eddie Munson had been your best friend since freshman year. The two of you were always a package deal; when you joined the theater club, Eddie joined the theater club. When Eddie started Hellfire Club, you were his co-founding member. When you volunteered to help decorate for the Spring Fling dance in ‘84, Eddie was begrudgingly by your side. When Eddie was invited to deal at parties, you were there in the shadows keeping him company. 

Wherever one went, the other followed.

All of the relationships you had gone through had simply had to deal with it. It was a deal-breaker. Either they accepted that Eddie was a permanent fixture in your life, or they could get lost. And it was always fine, because he was the harmless best friend. Sure, he was a bit flirtier than necessary. And sure, his touches lingered longer than necessary. But he was your best friend - nothing more, nothing less, and surely nothing to worry about. 

Steve Harrington had been surprisingly accepting of this. That had been his first mistake.

His second was not paying closer attention.

Because maybe, if he had a more watchful eye on you, if he had seen the signs, you wouldn’t be in bed with your best friend right now. 

“Fuck,” you sigh as Eddie places open-mouthed kisses down your neck and over your collarbones, “Please.” 

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs as his mouth begins to travel carefully over your breasts. He’s taking his time, stopping and sucking harsh marks sporadically. You have no clue how you’ll explain the blooming bruises to Steve - that is, of course, if he even notices them before they begin to fade. 

You’re only here because lately, Steve hadn’t been paying attention to you. He’d gotten too busy, he’d grown too comfortable. You had been slipping right through his fingers for quite some time now, and he hadn’t even noticed. 

When Eddie bites down on one of your nipples, you gasp, your hands reaching up and threading through the curls at the base of his neck. He’s quick to lathe his tongue over it, soothing the sting he’d created and earning a pitiful whine from you. Your back is arching, aching for more. 

His hands are quick to find your hips, harshly pinning your body down into his mattress to prevent any more wiggling as he continues his way down your body. He has it memorized at this point - every curve, every dip, every scar. He’d had the last four months to grow intimate with the crevices. 

You’ve only been dating Steve for a year. For a third of the relationship, you’ve come to Eddie for solace. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he praises as his lips graze over your navel, “So beautiful. And all mine. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

You can barely muster out a response of, “All yours.” 

For a brief moment in time, it’s true. When you’re here, underneath him and in his sheets, you are Eddie’s. He doesn’t have to beg and barter for pieces of you shared with Steve. Every time you show up at his trailer late at night, that look in your eyes, he knows that you’re going to belong to him and only him for the next several hours. It doesn’t matter that you’ll be going back home to Steve at the end of it. The two of you don’t think that far ahead in times like these.

He finally stops teasing you as he settles between your thighs, sitting a knee comfortably over each of his shoulders. Some nights, he would take his time with it. He’d nip and whisper kisses along your inner thighs until you were a wrecked mess, begging and pleading with him to end his torture of teasing. He’d take his time stripping you of your panties, puckering his lips and blowing cool air over your center until you were spasming beneath his fingertips. 

Tonight is not one of those nights. 

He dives right in, quick to latch his lips around your clit once he’s pushed your panties to the side. You weren’t expecting the sudden sensation, hips bucking without your consent as a moan leaves your lips. The sound is so pretty, it drives him insane. It urges him on. 

His mouth becomes a mess as he laps at you, spit and your wetness drips down his chin as he keeps an arm draped over your hips to keep you as still as possible. But you still writhe beneath him with every flick of his tongue. You’re still coming completely apart beneath him, and you both know it’s only because of him. Not Steve. But Eddie. 

“Just like that,” you whine, hands fisting his sheets so tightly that your knuckles have gone ghostly white, “Fuck, right there.” 

When you reach up to throw an arm across your mouth, trying to muffle some of the curses and gasps spilling from your throat, he pauses. 

“Nuh uh,” he insists, bringing his free hand up to tug your arm down, “Let me hear those pretty sounds, baby. I want to hear you.” 

With those big brown eyes looking up at you, it’s impossible to not listen. Your hand finds home in his curls again and the filth spills out into the otherwise silent air of his room. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. Fuck. F-Fuck, please. So good, so good.” 

He brings a finger to your entrance, circling it around to get it wet before he presses it in. You’re hardly awarded a moment to adjust before he’s adding a second, curling them until the pads of his fingers have found the spot that makes your toes curl. It’s a place within you he’s familiar with - he’s unraveled you countless times in his bed, fingers curled into that very spot, whispering every dirty thought that came to mind into your ears night after night. 

“I’m close,” you warn when you feel the knot building in your lower stomach, thighs instinctively squeezing around his head. If you weren’t so out of your mind, you’d be worried about suffocating him, but neither of you particularly care at this moment. To die here, between your legs with his fingers buried in your cunt, would be a heavenly way to die in Eddie Munson’s humble opinion.

But the moment he feels your walls beginning to flutter around his fingers, he’s quick to pull away, making you gasp before sighing out in frustration. 

“What the hell, Eddie?” you begin to lift yourself up onto your elbows to look down at the frazzled boy going down on you, but he’s already lifting himself up along your body as he sucks his fingers clean, grin wild before he’s hovering over you. 

“Aw, sweetheart, you didn’t think I was going to let you cum without me inside you, did you?” he teases gently. 

You don’t reply, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as you pull his swollen lips to yours. Somewhere between the rough and desperate kisses, you find yourselves kicking your underwear off. Your panties are wrangled down to your ankles before being kicked somewhere off onto his floor, and his boxers are quick to follow. The moment the last few articles of clothing have been discarded, you’re lifting your hips against his in anticipation. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans as his cock begins to slide between your folds, “Who’s got you all hot and bothered like this, huh?” 

“You,” you whimper, “It’s you.”

“Me? You sure? Not Steve, your loving boyfriend, but me, sweetheart?” 

When you don’t respond, he reaches down between the two of you, pumping himself a few times before he guides himself properly through your slick. His head bumps your clit, and you let out another whine.

“Tell me that nobody else touches you like I do.” 

“Nobody,” your hips thrust up again, growing further impatient and trying to end the suspense, “Nobody else. Only you. Only ever you, Eddie.” 

He finally gives in, letting his hips roll forward slowly as you stretch around him. It takes you a moment to adjust to his girth, but the few seconds are immediate heaven for both of you. His eyes roll back just as he catches the whites of your own eyes. 

He knows it’s just words. Empty promises.

But as he thrusts into you, hips snapping to meet yours repeatedly, leaving you a blubbering mess, it’s an unspoken agreement that playing pretend works for now. Each time he pulls backwards, nearly completely falling out of you, only to surge back forward and bottom out once more, neither of you care about the little white lies. 

He knows that when it ends, you’ll go home to Steve, and he’ll resume the role of the harmless best friend. He knows that Steve will continue to live in the bubble that he’s the only one that has laid hands on his girlfriend, that has seen you like this. He knows the fantasy will resume as if you’d only ever called out Steve’s name as hot pleasure rolls through you, making you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, as if you’d never chanted Eddie’s name like a prayer. 

But for right now, it’s only him. It’s only Eddie who touches you like this, and it’s only Eddie who can completely unravel you, reducing you to a teary-eyed mess of mascara and smeared lipstick. 

Only Eddie who touches you like this.

Maybe one day Steve will keep a closer eye on his girlfriend, but Eddie is thankful that today’s not that day.

#asks #thank u ily #spotify wrapped writing #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

[rassvetsky]

heyyy 🤠 ! i saw that ur ask box is open so do you think you could write some fluff with Steve Rogers abt halloween ?? i’m really craving comfort rn 🥹🥹

im drunk therefore i can barely speak my native language let alone english, and this is a complete mess. i still hope you like it tho bby feel free to request something else if this isnt it :( love you so much fr id commit arson for you i think

Star Spangled Singer

part one | part two

steve rogers x reader

"When you're not sure what to wear for Tony's Halloween party, Steve comes up with a solution. Too bad that he earned a rival as a result, but he's always going to be your favorite Captain America, and you'll always be his favorite Star Spangled Singer."

[2k] | fem!reader, nothing worth adding as a warning except for maria hill because she's hot and her & reader would make a killer couple, mentions of the USO tour, alcohol intake, idk what this is tbh

reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.

"Can't I just go dressed up as… Myself?" 

"Steve, that's not how Halloween works," you sighed, arms folded on your chest as you sat cross-legged on the bed right by Steve's legs. He was leaning on the bed frame, one hand keeping his book open from the lower end of it, the other swirling the marker around- and he looked so cozy that you felt a bit guilty about keeping him away from the world of his book. Sighing softly, you slowly moved closer to him and got under the covers, his arm immediately finding its way around your shoulders to keep you close to his chest. "Besides, I think Maria is already going as Captain America, so…" 

The grimace which took its place on his face pulled a laugh out of you, as you patted his chest reassuringly, watching him as he carefully jammed the bookmark on the page he was left at. Setting the book down on the nightstand by his side, he wrapped both of his arms around you, slightly pulling you on top of him as you braced yourself on his chest, looking down at him with a silly grin. "What are you going as?" 

"Dunno," you hummed happily, reaching to press your lips against his chin when you couldn't bear the lovesick expression he kept sending your way anymore. "I'm so hopeless when it comes to actually picking something. Might as well go dressed as your shield or something."

His warm laugh was enough to bring the smile on your lips even wider. "I might actually have an idea." 

You don't even know how he found an exact replica, and you're not willing to ask but the next day, a couple of hours before the party, Steve came back to your shared room in the compound with a costume. Specifically, a Star Spangled Singers costume. 

"Did the USO tour in the 40's with the group," he chuckled, watching your bewildered eyes as you ran your fingers through the soft fabric of the outfit, laid out across the bed. "What do you think? Too much?" 

"I am going to look awesome with Maria, you have no idea." 

A playful frown formed between his brows. "Really? While the actual Captain America is-" 

"We both know you're gonna go with a shirt, Steve. Let's not try to fool each other." you giggled, slowly approaching his sitting figure to wrap your arms around his neck and let him pull you into his lap. "It's so cool. God, you're so cool- can't believe I'm dating this guy." 

His soft laughter was muffled when he reached in to bury his face in your hair, tugging you closer to his chest as he did so. "You're going to look beautiful in it," he hummed. "Gonna give me the best kind of nostalgia." 

"I thought you hated the USO tour-" 

"Shut it," he whispered, earning a quiet chuckle from you. "Everything is bearable when it's with you." 

Quite literally, every single negative thought he had about the tour vanished the second you walked into the room, hand to hand with Maria Hill who was indeed dressed as Captain America, tight star spangled suit actually fitting her so well that you thought maybe, she could pass as him if she wanted to. 

But boy, oh boy; Steve couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Blue sleeveless vest with a deep V cut and three pairs of stars on the collar, flowy red and white skirt short enough to show just enough of your legs, adorned with a black pantyhose. You had a blue cap placed carefully on top of your styled hair, and white gloves going up halfway through your biceps; he couldn't help the way his gaze followed you through when you approached Tony and Nick with Maria, completely ignoring the way Sam nudged his side and waved towards your direction to get your attention. "Damn, she left you for another Captain America? That's cold." 

You excused yourself, squeezing Maria's hand slightly before letting go, graceful strut clicking against the marble flooring as you made your way over to the duo. "Hey Wilson, who are you supposed to be?" 

Sam faked offense, one hand dramatically going up to his chest to clutch it. "Excuse me? Nat King Cole?" 

"I'm supposed to guess Nat King Cole just from the.. suit?" 

"Why else would I wear a suit- alright, you know what Cover Girl, I'm gonna leave you and your star-struck boyfriend alone and get as drunk as I possibly could," he declared, giving Steve -who was still watching you with a smile on his lips- a pat on the shoulder before offering you a salute and walking away, towards Rhodey.

You finally returned your attention to your boyfriend then, meeting his sparkly gaze with a big smile. "Hey Cap." 

"Wow." 

"I know." you giggled. "Maria and I make quite the couple." Steve didn't react much to the joke, too busy staring at your maroon lips and the way they curved upwards- feeling red, white, blue fireworks going off in his chest. 

Not that he wasn't used to seeing you all dressed- you could pull literally anything off, in his eyes. From tactical outfits to the silliest pajamas known to humankind, you always looked stunning to him, filling his insides with a boyish kind of giddiness, which he hid well through the serious exterior. 

You approached him a bit more then, resting a glove-clad hand on his chest before reaching up to press a kiss against his cheek, trying to break him off of the trance he seemed to be under. "Earth to Rogers?" 

"You look incredible," he chuckled, mostly to himself, before getting a hold of your hand to twirl you around once. You did so, rather gracefully, the flowy skirt going up and down in the most hypnotizing way possible. "I might have to keep you away from Maria at all costs. She might just forget to remain professional as Captain America." 

"She's equally as hot so it kinda goes both ways," you shrugged, earning a playful scoff from him before he held your hand again, this time bringing it up to his lips to place a soft kiss on top. "Ooh, chivalrous." 

"Can we- do you want- hold on, let me just," he cleared his throat as you bit down on your lower lip, holding back a laugh. "Can I get this beautiful lady a drink?" 

"Did I just get you all flustered, Rogers?" you chuckled, slowly dragging him towards the bar as he laughed along, sheepish. "Good thing you have no idea what's under this outfit."

"What? Wait, what's under the outfit?" he asked, although his hopes of getting an answer died down quickly when the two of you met Natasha, Bruce and Clint by the bar. Clint, by the other side of the bar, immediately went in for a high-five with you before pulling out the bottle of champagne Tony opened earlier on. "Why is Steve incredibly under-dressed next to such lady?" 

"Heard he's not the Captain anymore." Natasha chimed in, earning a laugh from the group as you nodded. 

"Oh, yeah! Much more fun, working with Captain Hill." you purred, basking in the warmth Steve's hand on your waist provided. "Wonder where she is.."

"She's busy being given a headache by Tony," Natasha replied right after Clint handed the two glasses to Steve and you, earning a timid smile from you before you took a generous sip, letting the liquid burn down all the way through your throat. "The two of you by the door might've made me question my sexuality a little bit." 

"Alright, can everyone just stop trying to bed my girlfriend?" 

"Bed me? Oh my God, you're actually back in the 40's," you laughed, with Steve playfully rolling his eyes and tugging you closer to his side. "Might as well ask me to dance Waltz with you to Doja Cat." 

"I might, actually-" but you cut him off with a quick kiss to his lips, before slowly stepping away from him with a wink, still holding onto your glass. 

"That's too bad, a Star Spangled Singer only dances with Captain America herself!" 

"I'm starting to get used to this thing," Maria twirled you around again, earning a hearty laugh from you when you nodded and did the same to her. 

"You look badass in it. You should take on the name, seriously." 

"Only if you agree to be my sidekick. But in that outfit."

"I don't think I could fight in high heels and a skirt-" 

"You don't have to," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Just give me a thumbs up when I do good and sit pretty, that'd be good." 

You laughed along, pulling her to your side tiredly when the music changed again. "I actually considered coming as Captain America's shield but then Steve pulled this out, so…" 

"Steve was the one pulling this out?" she asked, giggling. "He knew what he was getting himself into, then." 

"Mhm. Speaking of…" you trailed off, slowly pushing yourself apart from her embrace and reaching to fix her hair before smiling again. "I should find him. I kind of deserted him for you, hotshot." 

"Best choice you've ever made." she chuckled and squeezed your hand one last time. "Have fun, m'kay?" 

"You too." you hummed before walking away from her happily, eyes scanning through the room as you made your way over to the bar again. A squeak left you when you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his chest with a laugh. "Steve! You scared me." 

"And you, miss, haven't answered my question." he spoke, right against your ear. You let out a soft chuckle at that. "What's under the outfit?" 

"My endless love and adoration for a certain Steve Rogers." you replied seriously, causing him to laugh and hide his face on your neck. "For real. I got a Captain America trading card in my bra and that's like, all." 

"I thought you meant something like, I don't know, a very patriotic lingerie set or…" 

"Please don't bring politics into our bedroom," you chuckled, slowly turning around in his hold to wrap your arms around his neck and smile up to him. "I was messin' with you. Wanted to rile you up solely for my own amusement." 

"Left your manners on the nightstand?" 

"Exactly." you hummed, letting him pull you closer just to press his lips against the side of your forehead. 

"Well, there's always the fourth of July for that, I hope." he shrugged, and you really wanted to just kiss him until his poor lungs went dry. "Say, what does one do with their girlfriend on a Halloween night?" 

"Horror movies are on the table," you mumbled. "We'll steal beer from the kitchen- and of course, the candies Tony insisted on buying to give to trick-or-treaters as if any child ever comes around here." 

"Sounds like a deal. But you'll keep the outfit on, right?" 

"Only if you're gonna be the one to take it off when I'm too sleepy to do so." 

You could still hear the music through the thick walls of the compound, although a lot more muffled. Your chest was against Steve's back as the two of you cuddled up on the bed, a low-budget horror movie from early 2000's on your TV while you absentmindedly played with his fingers, massaging his palm with your thumbs mostly to ignore the logical explanations he came up with for whatever demon was after the characters. "Stevie?" you looked up a bit, earning a hum from him. 

"Yeah?" 

You let your head fall back on his chest and closed your eyes, a smile forming on your lips. "You're my favorite Captain America, you know that, right? Even though Maria is a close second." 

He laughed at that, arms wrapping around you a bit tighter before he left a kiss on your hair. "I know. And you're my favorite Star Spangled Singer." 

"You'd lose your virginity to me in the 40's too?" 

"Christ- who even told you about that?"

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #marvel fic #marvel x reader #marvel fluff #captain america x reader #steve rogers

[slothspaghettiwrites]

Look @slenbee sent me a very nice centaur gif and it sent me into a wee bit of a rabbit hole. 👀

Save a Horse, Ride 'em Cowboy

Pairing: Centaur!Bucky Barnes X GN!Reader

Warnings: 🤠🤠 me in being inconsistent with everything 🤠🤠, establishing/ed relationship, a sexy pillow placement, it's a bit more... Horsy this time 😅, they fuck, fluid bonding, cumming loads, cream pies and cumming on reader, nipple play, slightly sub!Bucky, unedited and written on my phone

🐎🐎🐎

Bucky has decided he'll never be able to set foot in your apartment again. He just can't. Every time he looks at a piece of your furniture all he can think about is how fucking beautiful you look bent over it. And it's not him imagining it, it's memories from all the times he's 'fucked your brains into outer space'. There is just something about you, the two of you together are explosive.

After the first time, he stayed at your apartment all weekend. It wasn't his plan to do that, in fact he knows Steve was pissed at him for missing their afternoon gym session, but Bucky just couldn't stop. And you were begging him so sweetly to keep going, who was he to deny you or himself? It was only when you ran out of condoms that you both thought some fresh air would do you good.

That weekend feels like a lifetime ago now. A lifetime of fun and laughing and so much sex he thought he might actually die the weekend you went away with friends. But this is serious, he has purposefully invited you to his apartment. A place the two you haven't fucked on every possible surface. He can look at his kitchen island and not instantly get hard.

He stomps his hooves on the thick, soundproofing carpet, his hands fidgeting with his hair. It's ridiculous that he's just standing by his door, waiting for you to ring the buzzer but he is. He got home an hour early, raced through a last minute clean and shower, and now he was waiting for you to get here.

Bucky thinks about doing another sweep of the apartment. He knows he has everything for this weekend- a supply of condoms that would put a brothel to shame, enough lube you could bathe in it, and your favourite movie snacks. This is going to be the perfect weekend.

He nearly jumps out of his coat when the buzzer goes off, but then seconds later you're there. Your face is split into a big grin and your bag is slung over your shoulder. You launch yourself at him like you didn't see him last night or the night before. Your lips collide, your fingers dig into his damp hair, and he finally relaxes a little. Bucky wraps your legs around his waist as he backs into his apartment far enough to slam his door shut.

Your lick and nibble at his bottom lip until he finally relents and lets you fuck your tongue into his mouth. It does what it always does. Everything in his head clouds over and his senses are overwhelmed with you. He gasps, lips slick and struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Twelve hours is too long," you hum against his cheek, your hips grinding against his stomach.

"Sometimes I wonder if you just keep me around for my dick."

It's a joke, a shitty self deprecating one, but that has you immediately stopping. You pull your face far enough away from his, and Bucky can see how his kissing ruins you just as much as you ruin him.

"Buck," you take a deep breath, "I was gonna wait to say this over dinner for some romantic shit, but you clearly need to hear it now."

He freezes. He can't help it. Anxiety drips down his spine and hindquarters. He has to resist the urge to side step, to stomp his hooves, fuck even to shake his head. His instincts are telling him to move to get rid of this energy, but he can't. All he can manage is for his fingers to flex against your perfect ass

"There is so much to you, well beyond the physical. You are the sweetest, most selfless being I have ever met. And you're right, your dick game is impeccable. But I keep you around because I fucking love you."

His knees buckle. His heart jumps into his throat. Whatever he thought you would say, it wasn't that. It couldn't be that, because who could love someone like Bucky?

He kisses you again. Words aren't going to come out of his mouth any time soon, so he has to show you how much your words mean to him. With every lick and suck and scrap of his teeth across your lips, Bucky pours in all his emotions. Your hips grind on harder on to the flat plain of his stomach and your fingers are ripping at his shirt.

"If you don't fuck me, we are gonna have a problem." You groan into his mouth, not begging him but demanding.

It's a blur of knocking over plants and discarded clothes to get to his bedroom. He really needs to find a better place than this tight cornered and narrow halled apartment, but every time he bumps into something you laugh a little and that makes his heart light up. You groan when your back meets the wall beside his bed.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Keep being rough with me and I might cum before you even have a chance to get your dick wet."

Bucky stomps his back hoof, his head dropping to your shoulder. He knows he's blushing and that his cock is aching to be inside you, to fill you, just so he can watch his cum leak out. He shivers as your fingers graze the scars on his back.

"Do you wanna be rough with me? Finally gonna let go and fuck me stupid on your big horse cock?"

"Jesus Christ," he mumbles.

"Too much?"

"Fuck, no, I'm trying not to fuckin' cum from your slutty mouth."

He feels your smile, the apple of your cheek rising up against the side of his neck. Bucky lifts his head so he can see it. Your face shines with mischief and love and Gods how did he get so fucking lucky? He shouldn't question it, he should accept the gift of you.

"I have a second present for you," you smile bigger, dirtier, like the thoughts in your head are running rampant. "I went to the doctor's last week."

"I assume you aren't dying, doll."

"Nope, in fact, they gave me a squeaky clean bill of health."

"Okay..."

"And a certain bird also told me that last time you went you also got a squeaky clean bill."

"I-" Bucky's cheek heat even hotter, pink turning to flaming red. "Fucking, Sam."

"No, fucking me, without a condom."

To emphasize your declaration, you grind hips back against Bucky's abs again. One hand moves into his hair and the other moves to his pec. Your finger circles his nipple until he stomps again.

"Oh... Oh, fuck, doll."

He crashes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Bucky's tongue fucks into your mouth with urgency. When his hands rip your clothes from your body, the moan you make is unreal. His eyes roll back into his head for a moment. He can't believe it, can't believe you.

"Oh I'm just getting started." You slide down his front and push him until his back legs hit the bed. "On your back, cowboy."

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough Bucky is on his back. He feels ridiculous with his legs up in the air and when you push a pillow under him to support his back he nearly comes off the bed. Maybe this wouldn't work. There is a reason they say don't fix what isn't broken and the way you've had sex in the past is definitely still good.

Before he can make the suggestion, you're straddling his waist, lined up right over his hard cock. You roll your hips gently, teasing him while you pop open the bottle of lube. Bucky moans, can't hold the needy sound in his throat when he sees you.

Your mouth hangs slack as your fingers prepare yourself, fingers working in and out your body. Bucky wants to reach for you, wants to dig his fingers into your hips and make you grind harder and faster on his cock. His fingers twitch and shivers completely down to his hooves.

"Bucky, touch yourself, I wanna see how hard your nipples get. Show me."

He curses, screws his eye shut to keep himself together even as precum smears across his belly. He only opens them again when you stop moving.

"Doll," he draws out, his fingers pinching both his nipples as you grind faster.

Your chest heaves. Sweat glistens across your skin. Bucky wants to come, wants to lose himself in you until he can't think anymore. He twists his nipples harder, hips rocking up as the pain shoots right to his cock.

When your hands wrap around his cock he shouts. His body quakes and his breath rattles in his chest as you rise up. You line yourself up with his aching cock. The tip eases in, you hover for a moment, clenching around him in a teasing rhythm.

"Please, please doll," he pleads.

"Show me you've earned it," you smile, sinking a little deeper, not nearly enough.

Bucky's hands fly off his nipples and dig into the sheets beneath him. They burn a little, ache more than anything. You suck in a harsh breath at the sight of him.

"So fucking beautiful," you moan.

It's a wet squelch from all the lube, the sound of you fucking yourself down on his cock in one smooth motion. Bucky can't take his eyes off you, using him for your pleasure. His cock aches, your hole warm and wet and fucking perfection. He babbles, words of praise fall out of his mouth as he gets to watch you work on his cock. The sheen of lube between your thighs, the sweat on your body, the spit that slicks your lip every time you lick them, it's all so much.

But it isn't enough. He needs to see you covered in his cum. Bucky tries to make that sudden thought, as instinctual as breathing, a string of words that makes sense.

"Cum, fuck, fuck, fuck, doll, wanna cum on-"

His words cut off with a groan, but you get it. You understand him, in a way no one has. Tears spring to his eyes for a moment, but they don't last. The arousal and need burning him demands release. He wants to cum, but you need to cum first.

"Holy-, fuck, yes, gods yes, Buck. I'm so close. Want see you fucking drench me, soak me. Fuck gods. You feel so good."

You sit back, taking Bucky even deeper. He whines, can barely control himself. You stroke yourself in tandem with the movement of your hips.

"Bucky, look at me, look at me cum on your cock. Watch me make a mess."

As if he could look anywhere else, his eyes are glued to where your bodies are joined.

"Fuck, that's it, cum for me, cum on my cock and let me cover you. Please doll, please cum. I want you to cum on my cock," he begs you.

Your release is earth shattering, clenching around him like a vice. He is torn between fucking himself deeper, bathing in the pure pleasure of your body, and the need cum. Bucky starts to cum, feels his lower half begins to lock up.

"Holy shit," you whimper.

You move quickly enough for the rest of his cum to spray across your body. It lands on your stomach, your chest, your face. Gods it's a sight and Bucky feels so fucking good, right in his skins with your fluids on him and his on you. This is right.

"Cream pie dreams," you hum, a lazy grin on your lips and a glow about you. "Could feel you cumming in me, so fucking amazing, we're doing this again... Maybe after dinner."

Your fingers brush across his stomach, soothing and so sweet. The tears from early come back to his eyes. Endorphins and fucking light washes over Bucky and he thinks maybe he's having a vision. He sees you and him, together. Just the two of you growing older and growing more in love. He can't get the image out of his head as he looks at your cum covered body. It's ridiculous given the circumstances, but it makes him so happy. He reaches for you, grapples in this weird position until he's dragged your messy frame up his body.

Bucky kisses your face, licks his cum off your lips and plunges his tongue into your mouth. The taste of you together makes his blood sing. You break the kiss to take a deep breath.

"Love you, doll, can't even imagine how much."

"I love you, too."

#a sloth writes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #monsterfucking #sloth monsterfucking #centaur!bucky barnes x reader #centaur!bucky barnes #centaur smut #gn!reader #bottom!reader #bucky barnes x reader

[ariesbilly]

Started watching Yellowstone. Suddenly obsessed with crime cowboy family Harringrove AU. Rip's story is kind of like Billy's. His abusive dad killed his family, so Rip killed him and ran away. John Dutton, head of the ranch, takes him in. The whole show is a lot of gritty law breaking, murder and sexy men in leather.

Perfect for Harringrove. Steve as the pretty reining boy who's never gotten his boots dirty. Billy as Rip; Hopper's right hand man and prized colt. Creates as many problems as he fixes, attitude like a sour Skittle, even meaner horse.

Their hate fucking is phenomenal. And when Billy finds out that Steve swings a bat as good as he uses his dick? Its love.

Okay I’ve been meaning to get into Yellowstone 👀 this is exactly my vibe I love crime I love men in leather. Yeehaw 🤠

#I would like to read this au… #harringrove #briana answers things

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bebe - I saw this and it screamed country club Steve (I don’t know him yet so I might be wrong but I love him already and want him to be cocky and kinda mean but flirty while he looks like dis)

https://www.tumblr.com/freckledjoes/725368058989985792/look-at-himmmm-blep

fully read “bebe” in a moria rose accent hope thats okay xoxox

he’s way too cocky and just the right kind of mean and so flirty it’s actual awful and this is a photo of him at his dads fundraising night at the harrington mansion wdym 🤠

#it is #it’s him #ask

[andvys]

“that’s the thing, you create him so disgusting to people and for eddies girls to hate him more, “

This is a fanfic? 😭 Andy can create him however she wants. I think people need to learn how to separate fanfic from show canon. A fan writes a fic about characters based on how they want them in their own alternate reality🤠 I mean shit I’ve seen a lot of fanfics where Billy is the sweetest man on earth when canon wise he was pretty shitty. Yeah Steve is not like this anymore in the show after S1, but THIS IS NOT A SHOW! IT DOES NOT HAVE TO BE THE SAME AS THE SHOW! (& honestly Steve had a character development in this story! He changed a lot but ? That does not mean reader is gonna overlook the trauma and fall back in his arms. What kind of message does that send to people who are in actual relationships like those or who have struggled to get out of toxic relationships like those. AND you know what it’s not even about that. What this is mainly about is that as the author Andy can write whatever tf she wants. Just don’t read? Andy has never cared about likes and repost and attention. She writes for herself and chooses to share it with us. She can stop this any time she wants.)

Also yeah some Eddie girls may react the same some Steve girlies do, but I’ve never seen one be so rude to Andy. And if they are shame on them.

if we’re gonna be getting mad that Steve is written a certain way then let’s also get mad about how the story isn’t written by Andy to follow the show’s plot line in terms of the fucking lab and the fucking demogorgons and Vecna etc etc 🤠🤠🤠

I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL FOR YOU ANDY. I WILL DEFEND YOU TO NO END EVEN IF YOU DO NOT NEED ANYONE TO DEFEND YOU. (Which you don’t) I think many of your other readers will too.

-💃🏻💅🏻

THANK YOU!!!!!

you're right! this doesn't follow show canon, at all, except for the fact that Steve was a bit of a douchebag in season one, just like in this story but he changed in both the show and this fic.

honestly, I've never gotten this many rude asks before. and I wrote a rockstar!Eddie fic where he was literally a cheater (not to reader) and a liar, yet none of the Eddie girls came for me that way, not even when reader started a relationship with Steve (kind of) despite being in love with Eddie. In fact, most of the Eddie girls even supported that relationship with Steve and wanted it because he was so much better for her than Eddie was. (And Eddie wasn't even half as bad as Steve was in the beginning of this fic)

I love love love this story so fucking much. I put so much effort and time and love into it and I'm sad to finish it soon but I also look forward to it cause I'm exhausted about all the shit I get after every chapter that I post, it's literally annoying and draining.

#andy’s asks #💃🏻💅🏻 anon

[thefinalsnart]

SNART !!! did we lose the dgm wiki? thats just rude how will my adhd dgm ass surVIVE !!! anyways, i saw ur post and i am here to shARE some thors as the keyword dgm summoned me !!!! 🫡🧡 (also i just found the wiki. the just sont have reevers anymore? scoff!!!!)

ANYWAYS johnny with a southern accent that he kinda tries to shake off bcos he becomes so self conscious at the order !!! they tease him about the way he pronounces things but when he manages to hide his accent they all go "wait :( johnny what r u doing :(" and promptly apologize way too much, trying to compensate for making him feel bad. in truth, he didnt mask it bcos of their teasing, but simply bcos he was kinda alone w the accent and it bothered him personally JSJSJSJ

also reever is both head of the science division but his most important (important!!!! 😤) job is head of the spider-and-other-bugs extermination division! hes seen Some Shit in australia and is therefor rarely ever bothered by the silly little european bugs. he always lets them out with a glass and a paper and a nonchalant air that annoys everyone bcos that waS A GIANT SPIDER W EGGS MY DUDE! but he simply goes on w his day, arriving when called. lavi once called him bcos of a toad in the library, which no one ever lets him live down. lavi defends himself by saying he couldnt see what it was between the books, except that it was slimy and breathing! 🫡

i watch some tiktoks (</3) with this german couple about stereotypes of german people and i swear. half the time i just see link and giggle, kicking my feet. theyre so hilarious, its like 'going on a biking trip' and hes SO overly prepared with stuff and the partner wants to have nice chats while they bike in the scenery :) and he just goes 'i am trying to keep my speed and breathing steady. we can look at the scenery in silence' AND JUST. SKSKSKSK some of them doesnt fit him as well obviously, but its my main form of entertainment when i want to think of link in Situations. i think their handle is Liam Carpenter if tiktoks youe thing!!!!!!

i hope ur ride is bearable and thinking of dgm makes it worthwile !!!!! 🥰

- @alienaiver ✨

My heart skipped a beat that Reever’s wiki page was gone, but I was able to find it 🫡 he is still with us!! But it can be hell to find pages on fandom wikis sometimes if only I had the skills and knowledge to make an independent dgm wiki… life could be dream…

JOHNNY 😭 He is so sweet, I would cry if I heard him trying to hide his accent… I can see him with a Southern or Appalachian accent for sure, I’m thinking like. The voices Justin and Griffin McElroy do in The Adventure Zone: Amnesty.

Also I realized… I can just look up where people with the last name Gill are from in the US? It’s just a headcanon but I got curious and—

It seems before and close to the start of D Gray Man, most people in the US with the last name Gill were from the South! The data is agreeing with you, Johnny just might be a southern boy. 🤠 Thinking about it, his name does have a southern ring to it, it sounds right in the accent. I can also see Johnny saying things like “bless your heart,” or “over yonder,” “fixin.” Different southern slang. I think it fits.

SHDHSHSH REEVER IS ON CREEPY CRAWLIES DUTY 🫡 GOOD LUCK BROTHER!! But knowing Reever I think he’d be so sweet to those bugs… carefully cupping and releasing them… usually he’s nonchalant but once in a while he’ll be like “what a beauty,” like Steve Irwin and no one understands why because he’ll be holding a GINORMOUS SPIDER. I love him.

I ACTUALLY KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOUR TALKING ABOUT SHDHDHCHDH. I too watch Liam’s videos on occasion to put Link in the Situations in my head AHSHSHDHD. You’re right I don’t think all of em fit Link but it’s still so fun to watch and think about!

Apologies for answering this over a week later, but thank you for chatting with me about dgm Nohr !!! it is always the best 💕💖💕

#snart asks #snart answers #snart friends #the maps are from Ancestry . com btw #headcanons are for fun and they really don’t need Tom be backed up but I get obsessive over stuff like this SHDHSJAJSJ I HAD TO LOOK IT UP.. #*need to be #dgm headcanons

[litgwritersroom]

I might be asking for the impossible here but can I possibly ask for a Dylan prompt 🤠 specifically a proper redemption arc for him that happens post-villa because I refuse to believe that he changed that quickly in game. Thank you in advance!

DYLAN'S REDEMPTION

S4 | Dylan | 5300+ words | @mrsbsmooth

This could easily be 20k+ words. But here's my attempt at setting Dylan on the right path.

______

As soon as he walked in, he saw his Mum with absolute shame written over her face. She didn’t hug him. She didn’t greet him. She took one look at him and burst into tears, running into the other room and slamming the door behind her. His stepdad looked furious. Which wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

“Have you seen it yet?” his stepdad had demanded.

Dylan had the common sense to say nothing and just shake his head. Steve pointed at the couch, pressing play on the recorded version. 

Dylan had had to stay in a hotel room until the episode had aired. And by the time he’d arrived at Cardiff Airport, he was the most hated man in the UK. He’d expected his phone to be blowing up from jealous acquaintances, deals with protein powders, and possible agents for modelling contracts. But the opposite was true. Sponsors were pulling out of their contracts with his volleyball team at such a rapid rate that he found out he’d been stood down from it via reading their Instagram post. 

But now, he’d finally seen it for himself. Dylan sat, completely furious, staring at the TV as the next programme started. This was bad for him. 

He walked to the door. 

“Mam? Alla i ddod i mewn” 

[Mum? Can I come in?]

He heard his Mum crying behind the door.

“Na. Ewch i ffwrdd. Mae cymaint o gywilydd arna i.”

[No. Go away. I’m so ashamed.]

Dylan sighed, and turned back toward the door to leave. She just didn’t get it.

“Dylan” Steve seethed 

“What, Steve?”

Steve looked angry. “People linked you to your Mum’s business. They’re blaming her for raising a piece of shit. She’s been completely boycotted. She’s going to lose everything.”

“Sounds like a her problem, not a me problem.”

Steve picked up the mug next to him, and threw it directly at Dylan’s head, missing him by inches, and smashing on the wall beside him. Dylan gave him the finger as he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

***

If he thought people hated him when it aired, he should’ve been prepared for it to properly blow up on social media. The Love Island producers contacted him to ‘check on his mental state’, which, to be honest, was totally fine. He’d done nothing wrong. It wasn’t his fault Shelley had fucked him. 

How could she not? He smirked to himself. 

All this talk about “Her and Bruno were the greatest love story of all time” and “Dylan ruined everything” and “he gaslit and negged his way into her pants and convinced her Bruno would be so jealous he’d beg for her back”

He was pretty pissed off that he’d been stood down from his volleyball team, but his coach said it was only temporary - just until it all blew over. But it wasn’t blowing over. 

In fact, most of the hate seemed to be directed at his Mum.

From day one, the media were hounding her for an interview about ‘bad parenting’. They wanted to run a story entitled ‘Raising a boy: What I’d do better’.

On day two, someone egged her house. 

On day three, someone posted her email address online. 

A tiny voice in the back of his mind was whispering that It seemed a little unfair that his Mum was copping the hate for what he’d done. But he silenced it pretty quickly, relieved that he wasn’t the one having to deal with it. 

But on day four, he got turned down from the seventh talent management agency he’d contacted. No one wanted him. That pissed him off. He almost threw his phone across the room, but instead punched another hole in his dedicated punching wall. The satisfying smash of the plaster under his fist made him smirk. 

But then, in his hand, his phone rang. Someone was calling him. 

“You’ve got the Dylan”

“Oh, good god, man, you even answer the phone like that?”

A deep, soothing voice that Dylan kind of recognised was on the other end. 

“Who’s this?” he asked, his voice bored. 

“We’ve never met. But let’s just say… We have Love Island in common.”

“What d’you want?”

“To help you”

“I don’t need help”

“My friends tell me otherwise.”

“Your friends are wrong.”

“My friends are never wrong. You haven’t had a single talent agency show even the slightest bit of interest in managing you. You’ve got an image problem, and rightfully so, because you’ve got an attitude problem. My friends and I are going to help you with it.”

***

Dylan showed up at the address, a scowl on his face. He’d come all the way from bloody Swansea for this. For them to help fix his image. And hopefully… if he did that… people would leave his Mum alone. She still hadn’t spoken to him. Steve had told him that she didn’t want to see him anymore. Ever. He needed to fix this for her. Clean up his image enough for someone to hire him, or start paying him for posting online. He needed to make sure his Mum was taken care of. Steve had certainly never been any help. And he wasn't likely to start now that shit had hit the fan.

So this had better fucking work. 

He knocked on the door, and a small panel slid open, right as his eye line. 

“Password?”

“Er… Love Island theme song”

The eyes on the other side of the door narrowed slightly. “You have to sing it”

He sighed, but reluctantly hummed the theme song to the show. The door swung open, and he stepped into a long, dark corridor

As the door swung closed behind him, he came face to face with an actual, honest-to-god celebrity. 

“Oh hey, aren’t you Felix Cummings? From Season 2?”

“That’s me!” Felix said, “But I’m not supposed to talk to the students. Apparently it ‘slows their progress’”. He emphasised the last portion with air quotes.

Students?

Felix walked him down the corridor, and Dylan found himself in a large room, with dozens of corridors leading off from it. 

In the centre, a large, central desk. 

The letters along the front of it told him exactly where he’d been brought. 

LOVE [AND RESPECT] ISLAND UNIVERSITY

And sitting at it?

Noah Alexander

He was dressed in a well-fitted, and obviously well-ironed shirt, and a smart tie and jumper. Felix walked him to the desk, and Noah smiled at him, nodding. 

“Welcome to student administration, Dylan. Thank you for coming.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Well, to be fair, you didn’t give us much of one, either” Noah said, frowning disapprovingly. 

“So… What is this, then?”

“You left Love Island. This is sort of like a… finishing school.”

Felix nudged him with his elbow. “For assholes!”

Noah shot him a disapproving look. “No, not for assholes, Felix. For people who need a little more information on how to treat their partners with dignity.”

Dylan scoffed, and crossed his arms. “I don’t need it, then.”

Noah smiled. “Of course not. But perhaps you’d like a tour anyway? We have industry connections with every major clothing brand in the U.K, as well as multiple TV networks, and every talent agency. Graduating from Love and Respect Island University is basically a guarantee to brands that you’re not going to bring down a media shitstorm on them by doing problematic things. The islanders who teach the Level 3 courses receive special talent representation that guarantees them a £10,000 minimum per Instagram post.”

Holy shit. 

“Er… yeah, I’ll take a tour I guess, then.”

“Excellent. Your tour guide will be along shortly.”

“Oi, I’m 5”9 with shoes on.”

“I said shortly, Tim.”

“Ahh, right. Fair enough.”

Dylan’s face fell in surprise as his tour guide appears. None other than internationally recognised DJ - Big T. Timye. The one and only Timmy Smalls.

Tim motherfucking Pritchard reached out a hand to shake his. 

Dylan was positively starstruck, and said absolutely nothing.

“Come on, lad. I’ll give you the tour.”

***

“So a full courseload is four subjects. The subjects go for two hours each, every day. So it's a full 8-hour day with a half-hour break in the middle for lunch. Each subject takes two full weeks to complete. Once you graduate Level-1, you can teach Level-1. Once you graduate Level-2, you can teach Level-2. But to teach Level-3, you have to pass and be assessed by the panel. To pass a Level, you have to… Are you paying attention, Dylan? This part’s important.”

But he absolutely was not paying attention. Because walking towards him, down the hall, was a pair of tits so magnificent that he was sure he’d have to be rubbing his face all over them before he’d believe they were real. 

Marisol. 

Her tight pencil skirt and white blouse had him screaming sexy secretary in his head before he even saw she was frowning at him. 

“God damn, I’d love to bend that over a desk”

Suddenly, Dylan felt a wetness on his face. 

“No. Bad Dylan.” Tim was squirting him with a water gun. “No flirting until you’ve passed Flirting Respectfully”

Tim turned to Marisol, and smiled. “Marisol, did you get a haircut? Looks great!”

“Thank you, Tim, I did! Love the new shirt, by the way.”

Tim smiled back. "Oh, thanks!"

Dylan scoffed loudly in disapproval. “What the fuck! How come you get to compliment her and I don’t?”

Marisol turned to him, her gaze firey. “You degraded me to assert sexual dominance. Tim complimented me to make me feel good about myself. Plus, he’s my friend.”

“I’ll be your friend, babe?”

Tim just squirted him with water again. Dylan looked at Tim like he was about to punch him. 

“Squirt me with that fucking bottle one more time, I dare you.”

“Awww did the water hurt your feelings, Dylan?” Marisol bit her lip. 

He smirked at her. “Baby, kiss it better and I promise you’ll be drenched too.”

Marisol raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Tim. She unscrewed the bottle at her own waist and upended it over Dylan’s head. 

***

Tim led him down a hallway, and he couldn’t help but notice how many classrooms there were.

“How many former islanders are here?”

“Er… pretty much everyone, to be honest.”

“What do you mean everyone?”

“Well, everyone’s got something to learn, don’t they?”

Dylan frowned “And everyone teaches?”

“Pretty much everyone, yeah. Everyone’s got a different area of expertise. Different life experiences and that. We all have a lot to learn from each other. Plus, sometimes people are so shocked by their own behaviour, that they go on to teach a class on it. Like, you should see Gary Rennell's course on Weaponised Incompetence. It's amazing.”

“Well, once I’m done with the easy courses, I can teach a class on pleasuring a woman if you want?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “Just because they’re Level-1, doesn’t mean they’re easy, mate. It’s just the basics. But some of the courses have a fifty per cent fail rate. Besides, the Principal’s expressly banned you from teaching a class.”

Dylan stopped walking and furrowed his brow. “The fuck? He can’t do that?”

“Seriously? You don’t understand why?”

“Doesn’t matter why! That’s not fair!”

“Why would you even want to teach a class? I thought you didn’t even want to be here.”

It was a good fucking question. He didn’t even want to do these dumb classes. Why the fuck was he suddenly angry he couldn’t teach one?  

“Well, it’s the principle of it. Everyone else gets to teach one. I should too.”

Tim frowned. “I dunno mate. The Principal was pretty set on it.”

“Fuck that. I wanna talk to him. It’s a him, right? Or did you give the job to a woman because of ‘equality’”

He did the air quotes with his fingers, and Tim facepalmed. 

“No, the Principal is a lad. Don’t worry. We wouldn't be subjecting any women to your dumb ass at this stage.”

“Good. I wanna talk to him.”

***

Tim led Dylan to the door, and knocked. He popped his head in, and then looked back at Dylan. 

“Stay here. Don’t go anywhere. I have to fill him in.”

As soon as Tim was inside, Dylan wandered the hall, doing exactly the opposite of what Tim had asked. 

Each of the doors had a small whiteboard, detailing the teacher and the subject matter of each class.  

The closest one to him read:

__________________________

Just because you respect your female family members doesn't mean you respect women

Teacher: Nicky Horne. 

__________________________

He peered through the small window, and spotted multiple former islanders. Gary Rennell and Camilo Santiago Flores were right at the front, concentrating hard, taking notes. 

The next door was to a smaller room. 

__________________________

Anything other than an enthusiastic Yes is a NO

Teacher: Henrik Bergstrom

__________________________

It looked like an intensive class. One-on-one. Henrik was sitting backwards on a chair in front of its sole pupil, clearly appalled, and lecturing him angrily. And Dylan’s eyes widened as he saw who the student was.

Lucas Koh.

Despite being inside, he was wearing dark sunglasses. He was shuffled all the way down in his chair, trying to make himself look as small as possible. The hood of his hoodie was up, and pulled tight, concealing his usually manicured hair. He looked bloody ashamed of himself.

Henrik was pointing furiously to a section of a thick folder, with I.C.O.B.Y written across the front, reading passages from it that Dylan couldn't hear.

Huh. Weird. Wonder what that means? Dylan thought.

Dylan shook his head and was about to continue peeping through the doors when Tim suddenly came back out of the Principal’s office. He noticed Dylan halfway down the hall and frowned. 

“The Principal will see you now.”

***

As soon as he stepped through the door, Dylan froze.

“Ahhhh, Dylan. Welcome! I wondered when we’d be seeing your handsome face around here!”

Dylan’s jaw almost hit the floor. “Jake Wilson?”

Jake smiled broadly at him, his sparkling Colgate smile making Dylan wonder why he’d had to go on Love Island at all. “Oh, you recognise me? Thanks for that, very kind of you! Come in, come in, have a seat!”

Dylan stepped into the room, settling down onto a couch full of overwhelmingly ornate cushions. He picked one up, and looked at it, noticing it had a tiny pattern of intricate fruits on it. Melons, apples, bananas. Dylan furrowed his brow at it.

“Admiring my pillows? Jakub did them for me! He’s learning cross-stitch. They’re very good, aren’t they? He’s got a great eye for detail. His class on Taking pride in your appearance and home has been really helpful for a lot of people.”

“Yeah, I loved that one” Tim said. “He made ironing sound fun, which is something I never thought I’d say.”

Dylan crossed his arms. “Tim said you’re not letting me teach a class. Why not?”

Jake sat in a chair opposite Dylan. “Well, I must say, I’m surprised you want to. Can I ask why?”

“Because. I know more about women than any guy in here. I’ve slept with more, too. Guaranteed”

Then he looked over at Tim, smiling softly at him. “Tim, could you give us a moment?”

Tim nodded, and walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, Jake looked over at Dylan. 

“I'm not an idiot, Dylan. It's quite clear that the reason you want to teach is that Noah mentioned that our Level-3 teachers are very highly paid?”

Dylan rolled his eyes.

Jake waited for a verbal response, but when he didn’t get one, he continued. “We don’t let just anyone teach the highest grades, Dylan. You’d have to pass the full course, including the ones taught by our female and non-binary colleagues, and then be assessed as competent to teach in an area unique to you. It’s extremely competitive. We don’t have many male islanders who’ve reached that level.”

Jake paused, looking Dylan over. He tried staring Jake down, but as soon as their eyes met, he suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. Seen. Almost like Jake was reading his soul a little. Dylan swallowed hard.

“You want the money to help your Mum. I already know about the café. And about how it’s tanking because of your reputation.”

Dylan scoffed, but a sharp pain ran through his stomach like he'd been stabbed.

Jake continued. “It’s not very fair, is it? That she’s the one who’s copping the blame for what you did, regardless of whether you think there was anything wrong with it or not.”

“It makes no sense.” Dylan agreed. "What does it have to do with her? I don't get why they'd go after my Mum"

“Society finds it easier to blame women for men's bad behaviour. It’s okay to be confused about it. It makes no sense to me either. You'll learn more about it here.”

Dylan looked down at his feet, breathing deeply. Why was he opening up to Jake? Why did he feel so safe here? “She said she’s ashamed of me. It makes me feel weird.”

Jake smiled softly at him. “It’s called guilt, Dylan. You feel guilty because someone you care about was hurt when you didn’t intend for them to be.”

“Guilty? Nah. That means I regret it. I never have regrets. No regrets.” His voice wasn't nearly as confident as he'd tried to make it sound.

Jake went quiet again, studying him, and Dylan felt like he was naked. Jake had such a way of stripping back pretense. He almost felt like there was something inside him being unmasked whenever he looked at him. But Jake said nothing. 

“So are you going to let me teach, or not?”

Jake’s expression only changed a little… but Dylan saw the flash of a frown. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry Dylan.”

“The fuck? Why not?”

Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “Dylan, I’m sure you’ve heard this a fair bit already. But your behaviour on the show…” He sighed. “I’m not exaggerating when I say that it was one of the most abhorrent displays of toxic masculinity we’ve seen since Jakub. But even he admitted to being wrong once he was confronted with the facts of what he’d done. You treated Shelley like she was lower than dirt, destroyed her relationship and reputation, and–”

“Hey! I can’t help that she wanted to fuck me!” Dylan interjected. 

Jake held up a finger, sternly. “You know what you did wrong, Dylan. You know you were negging her. You know you manipulated her. And you're not taking responsibility for it.”

“Why should I have to? I didn’t do anything wrong! A man has needs, and if Shelley was willing to meet them, then that’s her problem. I thought we were supposed to let girls be sluts these days. And just because I fucked her doesn’t mean it’s okay for you to discriminate against me!” He crossed his arms, glaring at Jake. 

For the first time since he’d entered, Jake looked a little angry. “So what’s your plan, here? You think you can trick everyone into thinking you’re a reformed man, so that you can get the six-figure payday that comes with it?”

Dylan furrowed his brow, trying to think of something to say. 

Jake continued. “I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’ve slept with an untold number of women, and you think that means you’re a master of pretending to be a ‘good guy’. Well, here’s something surprising, Dylan. You’re not acting like a good guy. Half of the women you've slept with, you've manipulated, and the other half knew full well what you were doing, but thought you were good-looking enough to get away with being just awful. The world will only ever judge you by your actions. To be frank, if I was your mother, I’d be bloody ashamed of you, too. I’ve never even met her, but I’m absolutely certain she raised you better than this.”

Dylan’s heart sank through the floor. It hurt. It hurt to hear someone saying it out loud. Especially someone like Jake. Everyone adored Jake. He was such a man. Huge alpha energy. So if Jake thought he was wrong...

Jake reached out for his arm. “I’m sorry it came to that. I don't know you that well, and I can only judge you by what I've seen of you on TV, and in this conversation. But Dylan... You're not making this easy for me. I really want to give you a chance, Dylan. I really do. But I’d be risking my reputation, and the reputation of the entire organisation, on someone who won’t even acknowledge their part in it. And I’m sorry, but we rely entirely on donations and partnerships with brands. It’s just not fair to everyone else to put everything on the line just to help you out financially.”

Dylan nodded. “I understand”

That was it. His last lifeline.  Gone. He wasn’t sure what to do now. The volleyball team were definitely not going to be taking him back. He couldn’t work in his mum’s cafe if there were no bloody customers. He could make a few grand doing interviews. But after the initial shock value had worn off… what would he do? He’d be completely tainted. And all because of his own actions. 

It was just like Steve had always said. He must’ve gotten his entire DNA from his bio dad. He was like a carbon copy of him. He was born a piece of shit, and he’d die a piece of shit. Never having achieved anything, always too skinny, never good enough for the girls he liked, he’d always just be a useless piece of human trash that no one would ever love, or want anything to do with. 

Dylan felt his eyes burning. He swallowed the tears back, instead curling his hand into a fist. 

Jake reached for a few of the pillows, stacking them up, one in front of the other, and braced them against his arm. Reading the sign, Dylan socked the centre of them with a sharp right-hook, instantly feeling better. 

“You okay?” Jake said, quietly. 

Dylan nodded. "This was my last hope. I don't know what else to do. I'm never going to be able to fix this on my own. I don't know how."

Jake looked at him, a slight sparkle in his eyes.

Dylan swallowed hard. "I... I need help."

"Thank you, Dylan. That's exactly what I needed to hear.”

Dylan furrowed his brow, and looked up at Jake. 

Jake smiled softly at him. “There’s a Dylan in there that has feelings. And probably a fair bit of empathy. We can work with that.”

Dylan dropped his eyes back down to his feet, saying nothing. No snarky quip, no comeback, no stirring remark. 

Jake sighed. “Are you going to take this seriously? The learning?”

For a moment, he considered just ripping Jakes stupid fucking embroidered pillows in half and walking out, ripping the door off its hinges on his way. But there was something so calming about Jake’s presence that made him feel like he didn’t have to do that. 

“Do you think it would help my Mum? If I cleaned up my reputation a bit?”

Jake nodded. “I do.”

“Then yeah. I’ll take it seriously.”

“I’d like you to make me a promise that you will.”

Dylan looked at him, a little confused. Why would Jake even trust his word? But he nodded. “I promise.”

Jake immediately stood, walking to the door to call Tim back in. 

“So what do I do now?” Dylan asked.

“At the end of the week, I’m going to speak to your Buddy. If they think you’re making adequate progress, I’ll consider allowing you to progress thorugh the teaching stages like everyone else.”

“Jake!” Tim gasped. “You can’t be serious?”

“I know you love my jokes usually, Tim, but I promise, This Time, I am.” Jake stood, offering his hand to Dylan. 

“Jake…” Tim whispered. “You’re sure he’s not just playing you?”

Jake nodded. “Dylan has given me his word that he's going to take this seriously.”

Dylan looked at Jake, a little surprised. He was… trusting him?

No one had trusted him to do the right thing in… he wasn’t sure he could remember the last time it’d happened. He realised he’d been playing the villain for so long that he never really stopped to consider if it was actually how he wanted to be anymore. 

“Thank you, Jake.” He whispered. 

“Now, Tim, If you could please take Dylan back down to see Noah, we’ll get him enrolled, but first, we’ll need him to meet his buddy.”

Dylan glanced at Tim, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Oh, I, er…”

“Not you, Tim” Jake chuckled. “I’ve had someone specifically request to be Dylan’s buddy.”

Dylan’s eyes widened, but before he could guess, there was a gentle knock at the door. 

“Come in! Come in! Perfectly punctual, as usual!”

Dylan turned and was essentially looking directly into the chest of another islander. He must’ve been one of the biggest guys Dylan had ever seen. He had impeccable posture, his shoulders back, yet relaxed. Quietly confident. A self-assurance that only came from being entirely comfortable in one’s own skin. Dylan could see the hair on his chest through his slightly-open shirt. His large arms, sly smile, and perfectly manicured moustache immediately stood out. 

“Hello, Dylan,” he said, the low booming voice sounding immediately familiar. “I’m Hazeem. We spoke on the phone. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m your buddy.”

Hazeem stuck out his enormous hand, and Dylan took it, Hazeem shaking it with reserved confidence that immediately asserted that he was not to be fucked with. 

Dylan nodded a silent acknowledgement and turned back to Jake, who was smiling.

“Hazeem is the first student in the history of Love [and Respect] Island University to be granted Recognition of Prior Learning. He was able to perfectly demonstrate every single Level-1 skill that we teach. He will accompany you to every single one of your classes, and report back to me on your involvement, progress, and participation. And he will be very difficult to impress.”

Hazeem looked Dylan up and down. “Thank you, Jake. It’s quite an honour. But I must say, I’m looking forward to sitting in on the Level-1 classes. I can always do with a refresher.”

Jake smiled and nodded at him. “Thank you, Hazeem. You’ll be an excellent buddy for Dylan. Now, what do we say we get Dylan enrolled?”

***

“These are the courses I’d recommend for you.” Noah slipped the paper toward Dylan. “It’s a full courseload, but we usually have better results from students who fully commit and study four subjects at once.”

_____________________________

Bobby McKenzie: Making appropriate jokes. 

Tai Kahu: Toxic masculinity in all-male sporting environments.

Seb Matthison: Being friends with women, even if you find them attractive.

Ciaran O’Connor: Expressing your feelings

_____________________________

Dylan frowned at the list and turned to Tim. “What about that flirting one you mentioned, that sounded fun.”

Noah shook his head. “Flirting Respectfully is a Level-3 course. Now, you’ll need to hurry if you’re going to be on time for Seb’s class.”

The rest of the day went fucking terribly. He got drenched by the entire of Seb’s class when he suggested you should just be friends with ugly women instead of hot ones, problem solved. Even though Jasper agreed with him. Such bullshit.

He got drenched by Ciaran’s entire class when he said the only feelings he had were anger and horniness.

He got drenched, and almost asked to leave the class when he suggested that Tai should play for the women’s team instead of the men’s if he had such a problem with locker-room talk.

Dylan had to spend the majority of his lunch break drying his shirt in the bathroom. He was cold. He was grumpy. He really was trying. He wasn’t sure why he was doing so shit. And Hazeem was on his case constantly. And now, he had to sit through a class with Bobby fucking McKenzie. 

“Afternooooooooooon, lads!”

Dylan’s eyes shut in annoyance. This fucking clown was already giving him a migraine. 

Unfortunately for Dylan’s willpower, Bobby was disarmingly charming. He explained what makes a joke funny, and what kinds of topics generally cause the most hurt. He talked about the difference between laughing with someone, and laughing at someone, and why the type of relationship you had with the person, and the topic, made all the difference. How the best way to make fun of something, was to make fun of yourself. 

Dylan felt like… he was actually learning something. 

Bobby even had them play a game. He had lots of videos for them to watch, showing clips of different islanders making jokes, and having people be in the hot seat, to say whether to joke was appropriate or inappropriate. And the stakes were immediately raised when Bobby presented a bag of chocolate bars as a reward for getting the answer correct. Dylan got progressively more frustrated, as time after time, he got every single one wrong. Bobby frowned, clearly trying to make sure everyone got some positive reinforcement to finish the day. 

“Okay. I think I’ve got one for you.”

Bobby fiddled with the video, and brought up one Dylan had already seen. It was him, on his date with Shelley. 

______

“So what about you?” he said “Do you get to the gym often?”

Shelley smiled warmly at him. “When I have time. My schedule’s crazy when I’m at home. My clients are all over the world, so if one of them wants to talk about a change to a commission at 3 am London time, I have to be ready and professional.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow at her “I knew artists tended to not to have a steady income. Funny how the hours are like that, too. Bit of an unstable job, no?”

Shelley’s face fell, and Dylan felt a weird feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t familiar with. She looked so hurt. “Artists are capable of having busy routines too.”

His smirk came back up on the screen, and he rolled his eyes. “Lighten up! I was just joking.”

_______

“So what do you think, Dylan? Okay or not okay?”

He thought hard about what Bobby had said about laughing at people rather than with them. 

“Not okay” 

Everyone gasped, and Bobby’s face lit up like he’d just won a prize for buttercream. But he didn’t celebrate right away. 

“Why is it not okay?”

Dylan furrowed his brow, thinking back to what he’d learned in Ciaran’s class. “Because it would have hurt her feelings.”

Bobby nodded, and he absolutely beamed at Dylan. The corners of his mouth were pulling so tightly at his freckled cheeks that it made his eyes crinkle. He was practically jumping up and down when he tossed Dylan a Snickers. 

But suddenly, his amber eyes went wild with excitement. Bobby walked back to his desk, and opened a small mini-fridge underneath it, prompting a gasp from the other students. 

“Hey, Dylan… extra credit question. Can you think of an example of something that would have been an appropriate joke?”

Dylan was halfway through his Snickers already, but he paused as he chewed. The sweetness of the sugar rush was making him feel more relaxed than he had in months. He thought hard as Bobby smiled hopefully at him.

Bobby looked at him. “If I’m Shelley, and we were having that same conversation. If I said, ‘if one of them wants to talk about a change to a commission at 3 am London time, I have to be ready and professional.. What could you have said?”

Dylan thought hard, and everyone waited silently. He could’ve made a joke about what else they could do in the middle of the night. But Seb’s class had taught him to avoid innuendo. He thought of everything he’d learned today…and took a deep breath. . 

“How about… ‘If someone called me at 3 am to talk about volleyball, I don’t know if I’d be very professional about it’”

Bobby’s face fell in surprise. “Oh my god! Dylan! Yes! Good job!”

Hazeem beamed at him, and Dylan’s heart started racing. 

He did a good job?

He smiled a little and felt his cheeks go a little warm. He wasn’t sure the last time someone had told him he’d done a good job.

Bobby ripped open the fridge, pulled out a perfectly decorated cupcake, and placed it on a plate in front of Dylan. “You earned this. Try it”

Dylan took a bite, and almost fucking groaned. Holy shit it was so fucking good. Chocolate mud cake, with a raspberry filling in the middle, and some sort of berry frosting. Fucking hell.

Hazeem clapped him on the back gently. “Good job, lad. Very, very good.”

Dylan was grateful for the cupcake, because it meant he didn’t have to think of something to say in response. 

He didn’t regret sleeping with Shelley. He liked her. He thought she was hot. But he wondered… if he hadn’t messed with her head so badly… would she have wanted to sleep with him?

He could’ve made that joke to Shelley. It didn’t make him look like less of a man. In fact, it made him look charming. Funny. Confident. The guy he’d seen on the video wasn’t the man he wanted to be.

Maybe… just maybe… 

He could stand to learn a thing or two about respect.

#litg #litg dylan #litg season 4 #litg fanfic #prompt #mrsbsmooth #litg writers room #writers room #ask

[jonathanssweatercollection]

JON YOU ARE SOOOOOOOOOO RIGHT W SO MUCH OF S3 DIALOGUE AND S4 W JONATHAN N NANCY

ITS NOT JUST THEM EITHER literally every line of dialogue in s3 (and MUCH of s4) is completely interchangeable and basic it’s SO mcu-coded it makes me sick the characters have little to no personality they just get morphed into cookie-cutter archetypes if theyre LUCKY and the flanderization of the majority of mains (hopper (s3 hopper i am beating you to death you make my piss boil he’s such a heinous cunt literally episode one he threatens a CHILD and forces them to lie to his surrogate daughter who theyre dating and he also just shoots like dozens of russian soldiers without a second thought and it gets treated as a scene wit brevity despite the fact that this mario-looking motherfucker is murdering people left and right in between yelling at joyce who is his love interest (omg it’s all so contrived and early 2000s romcom/shitty 80’s action movie like so fucking much of s3) steve (who’s only character traits are dumb and slutty now ig and every scene he gets that gives him depth gets undercut with bullshit st*ncy romance teasing or played for laughs (like when he says he feels like an idiot and kinda looks down on himself bc he crawled backwards as a baby and also when this teenager was literally drugged; beaten to a pulp and tortured) and nancy (lois lane esque hashtag girlboss character (who the duffers can’t write for when they TRY to be feminist bc it becomes so performative and inauthentic on their part and their accidental feminist moments (the “screw that” scene, confronting steve in the alley in s1, determinedly swearing to kill the demogorgon (paralleling jonathan in episode 5), being given every out but forthrightly still luring the monster to herself despite having literally just learned that her best friend in the whole world was viciously eaten by it, and ofc battling the demogorgon) who’s super ambitious and stubborn to a fault) are just three instances, and if you know my blog you know i ADORE nancy and steve and also good fucking lord the ABSOLUTE CHARACTER ASSASSINATION OF MAX IN S3. they de-butched her they yassified her for the worser my best girl thank god they did better with her in s4 but i can’t think abt her overall characterisation in s3 for too long before getting a headache, fucking hell this show really is just bad fanfiction now i can only hope for some genuinely good and heartfelt moments in the final season, pray that the duffle bags REWATCH THEIR FUCKIN SHOW, and manifest an ending that doesn’t completely disappoint

goodness fuckin gracious that’s a wall of text. hope this mini rant was entertaining tho 🤠✌️

#studiousbotanist #stranger things #not tagging all the characters mentioned here this took it out of me also my dog is trying to steal food i’m multitasking so hard you guys #replies #mine

[pabst-belikov]

This whole thing is inspired in a post created by: @fizzigigsimmer

Hello world, about the people (antis) who got zero critical thinking skills and have to be spoon feed bc 'the writers say so', I got something to say.

They actually can think, and that's surprising, their behavior looks like a toddler that was bad educated by their parents. But anyway, they can not just think, they actually can create a new whole story for someone with NOTHING AT ALL.

A trait in common with antis that say "billy bad deserved to die boohoo" is, they love Eddie. Not hate to Eddie, I like him too much for the exact same reason I like billy. But, there's three interesting things about antis that evolve Eddie, that are at least, corious:

1. They erase billy completely like he never existed BUT, they put his whole personality on Eddie 🤠🤡

2. They try REALLY HARD make steddie something real with a total of 0.1 proves

3. They assume stuff for no reason.

³. Well, Steve parents and all. Everyone assume that they are like super abusive, and even they are not showed, people hate them. And like op said, they never home and they could be neglecting Steve, is an kind of abuse, but also, they could be just parents of a teeneger who were (and maybe still being) spoiled his whole life. Steve was a bully preppy boy, is not a possibility he just treat his parents badly? And yeah he changed, but changes takes time and convince your parents that you changed also takes time. Idk man, I'm just trying to say, we don't know them. They were never shown or talked about enough to take notes in a such fixed way. Also, Billy, they assume things about billy, that just, is not there. "yeah he probably would be homophobic, he would bully Eddie, he would kill the kids, he would, and if, if, if..." they don't even try to prove their points, or when they dare to make their brain work, is just a poor explanation.

Like, you can see, especially here and on that shittiest app ever created (tikt0k) that people created a whole tragic lore to Eddie. Is not a surprise that writers like to write sad stuff about their fav characters, but is not a fanfic, is not a theory, they claim what they say like Canon. I swear, I saw someone on tiktok showing "proves" that Eddie was depressed and suicidal. Yk, I just-

². I don't dislike the steddie thing, I think Steve need to kiss at least one man till the end of the season, also, I think they could make them kinda romantic too, but they didn't, nothing happened. Even Joe keery was asked about it, and even he didn't think they could be this one true perfect pairing.

¹. Do I need to bring up the fanarts of Eddie like a mechanic? Like a car lover? Do I need to?

And about ignoring things and "I belive that bc the writers says so", we saw mostly of the parents of everyone. I think we can say that we don't like Lonnie and Brenner for the same reason: They abused their kids.

Guess who parent, especially a dad, antis pretend not to see and maybe even say that his was right for everything that he did?

Antis HATE more Steve parents that were never shown, than Neil, that were shown several times doing awful stuff with his ex wife and his kid.

Also, a warning for you dumbass who love El but don't like billy: If u say that u don't like billy bc he's violent, he don't communicate, or any kind of shit like that, you don't like eleven, bc they are basically the same.

I already say this once and I'm gonna say again: everyday I wake up, see billy hargrove situation, and I make this everyone's problem.

#stranger things #billy hargrove #tw fandom bullshit

[starvels]

3, 13, 14, 25, 45, 46?

hi aspen! thanks for asking. 🤠✨

answering asks from this fic writer’s meme!

03. name three favorite writers

i'll go with fic writers and say:

dirigibleplumbing: who is a powerhouse of textured prose and crafts very compelling narrative windows

phenomenal_snowman: who writes such a realistic, bittersweet specific s/t it makes me wanna CHOMP HHHGHH

welcoming_disaster: who has such a deft way of conveying the luminosity of feelings and plays with a lot of Cool Concepts

13. hardest character to write

616 logan howlett or stephen strange. the reason being that i find characters that have extreme longevity or complex magical perception and skills mmmm complicated to use in stories to their best abilities.

for s/t: ults tony is difficult bc he's a very shiny, man-at-his-end amalgamation of everyone in text and out of text's expectations and social preconceptions and isms. does he have this very specific type of flamboyant internalized homophobia, or was he just written in the 2000s? how many licks does it take to get to the center, etc.

14. easiest character to write

3490 nat/tony stark. she is my open book, empty sandbox trans bisexual disaster blorbo ty.

616 tony: what can i say. i fell in love with him whilst writing AWS, i think. and that was that. i do think 616 tony characterizations very much depend on who you surround yourself with in fandom and what they talk about, so its fun to see that reflected in my tony, too, i think.

tentative third place to ults steve? wildly, he has fast become very vocal and accessible to me. we love to see it (it = delightful, asshole pigeon man)

25. favorite line you’ve ever written

god this is such a hard question. i don't know about favorite and i will not say the entirety of AWS, tho i am very proud of that. instead i'll say i rly remember these

from we were meant for this:

He believes in good hands. He believes in safety nets. He believes that fairytales are what children make adults tell them – because children know the truth, that magic comes from your own voice and the myth you read is the story you conceive.

and syntax of bones:

He touches your scaffolding, the hinges of your becoming, fingers the sockets where you enter but do not exit and you know everything of his face, everything of the scar on his left ear and the freckle in his right eye and the way his shoulders relax the moment before he kisses someone because you have been made to watch with eyes that don’t exist, made to long with a heart that recycles upon itself.

45. share the synopsis of a story you're working on that you haven’t published yet

this is actuallyyyy a huddling for warmth fic that i actually started a while ago after seeing @phyrrhicvictory ‘s listed likes for the ygmah server stockings haha.😅 sorry it is still sooo WIP.

Steve and Tony crash land on an icy planet on a routine mission. While they wait for rescue, they share a blanket, some tentative conversation and Steve picks at the threads of something that's been bothering him about Tony's behavior lately.

As Steve tugs, what spills out between their bodies is their shared bloody past and a secret or two about Tony's relationship with Earth-616's visitor from Earth-1610.

here’s a spoiler, the 1610 visitor is not steve 😈

46. share a scene of a story that you haven’t published yet

here’s a scene from the huddling for warmth:

“C’mon,” Tony mutters “hold it together, Iron Man.” “I think you’re doing fine,” Steve’s voice rising from the huddle of blankets below. Tony jolts against the bulkhead and glances down. Steve stays wrapped tight around Tony. When Tony goes to pull away, Steve’s arm solidifies into an oak plank, keeping them locked together. “Hey,” Tony says, swallowing, “didn’t mean to wake you, sorry.” “Nah,” Steve breathes out, shuddering a bit, “you didn’t.” “Well.” “It’s fine, Tony.” “Okay.” Then, biting their lip, Tony rubs at Steve’s back. Friendly-like. Teammate-like. Allowed in a huddling for warmth mission code-like. “You doing alright?” “Well, it’s cold.” Steve says, and it’s tempered with his always hot temper.

hopefully those answers were fun for ya. i enjoyed answering them a lot hehe

#it is late to post these but i'm done and i wanna do it so! here we go. i will reblog at another time #fun fun fun these were great questions. great choices aspen #our talk #writer's meme #fic talk #my fic #stevetony talk

[natsfirecat]

I have a weird but funny request for you:

Reader used to be a Russian Imperial Guard back around 1700 when the Romanov Dynasty were the Tsar(ina)s in power. Reader got frozen under the sea kinda like Steve. They get found and the Avengers take them in, but once reader hears Natasha introduce herself they bow down and the Avengers are just ???. Even though the Avengers explained to Reader that Nat isn’t really royalty, Reader keeps treating her like one. Nat confronts them one on one after some time and Reader confesses that they love her and this is how they express their love. 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

Sorry if it’s long and descriptive but I thought I’d be fun for you to write!! 🤠

My Natasha

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none, lmk if i need to add any!

A/N: you were right anon this was fun for me to write! sorry it's kinda short tho fdhfhfd. also i had no idea what the romanov dynasty was until this SO NOW I'VE DECIDED THAT NATASHA 1000% IS A DESCENDANT AND SHE'S ROYALTY 😤

"Get to cover!" You heard the yelling from behind you.

"I'm not leaving you!" You replied, turning around.

Her green eyes narrowed, taking a step closer to you.

"Get yourself to safety, that's an order,"

"But, my Catherine,"

"I said, get yourself to safety!"

You were about to argue again before the hearing another roar of wind coming from above. Your heart dropped as you stared off into the distance, unable to see more than two feet in front of you.

"My Queen, I-"

She glared at you again. You opened your mouth to argue, but she held her hand up, looking behind you.

"We're too late."

-

"Be careful with her,"

"She'll be fine, she's been in ice this long, so just as long as we thaw her out,"

"We have no idea who she is, what if something bad happens?"

"What? You want us to just leave her like this?"

"Too late... it's already melting,"

You opened your eyes, hissing at the amount of light in the room. In front of you, stood seven people looking you up and down.

You tilted your head, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Where am I? Where is the Queen? Where is my Catherine?"

One of the men in front of you tilted his head, as if he was inspecting you.

"You're in New York," he told you, crossing his arms.

You were even more confused now, glaring into his blue eyes.

"What's your name, and what all do you remember?"

"I'm saying anything until I see my Catherine,"

You heard a loud sigh from the only other woman in the room. She pushed the man aside, looking into your eyes.

"I know you're probably scared right now, but we need you to cooperate so we can help you, okay?" She said, earning a nod from you. "What's your name?"

You took a deep breath in, staring at her calming green eyes.

"Y/N L/N,"

She placed her hands over yours, smiling.

"Thank you, Y/N, we're gonna help you,"

Your gaze shifted across the others in the room, feeling a little more relaxed than before. But you still wanted to find out where you were, and where Catherine was.

One of the other men, he was a little shorter with darker hair, stepped forward.

"Hmm, I think Romanoff definitely has the best shot at cracking her,"

"Romanoff?" You asked, sitting up straighter.

The first man who spoke raised an eyebrow, then nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, Nat, we'll let you take this one. But we'll be right outside if you need us,"

She nodded, watching them leave as she was left alone with you.

"Where is my Catherine?" You asked again. "You said Romanov!"

"What are you talking about?" She asked, sitting next to you.

"There was the storm, and she told me to get to cover," you explained to her. "But then..." you tried to remember, but nothing was coming up. "Then I woke up here,"

"Well, you're not the first person we've found who's been frozen in ice for years." She told you. "So we gotta figure out how long you were under, do you know what year it was when the storm happened?"

"1762," you said. "...how long as it been since the storm?"

She let out a long, deep breath, putting her hand on your knee as an attempt to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but it's been over 250 years,"

"What?" You asked, your heart dropping. "So my Catherine is... gone?"

"I'm sorry," she said again.

You felt tears forming in your eyes as you let out a sniffle. She told you to protect yourself, and now she was gone.

"Tell me more about Romanov," you said, putting your hand over hers that was still on your knee.

"That would be me," she said, her lips twitching into a smile. "My name is Natasha Romanoff,"

You gasped, standing up. You quickly got on your knees, bowing your head as well.

"I shall serve you as I served Catherine the Great Romanov," you promised, keeping your head down.

Then it finally clicked for Natasha.

"I'm not royalty, Y/N," she explained. "The Romanov Dynasty ended like 100 years ago. Here, I'm also Black Widow,"

"It was my duty and life's purpose to serve the Romanov family, and I shall uphold that for as long as I live,"

She was unsure what to say, but you seemed happy bowing down to her. So she raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.

You followed her out of the room, keeping your head down. The other Avengers were definitely confused, but they didn't question it.

They were mostly happy she had gotten through to you, and you were willing to talk to her.

"So," Steve said, walking up to you. "Is everything good?"

Both you and Natasha nodded.

Taking in a deep breath, you followed her again; you may have failed Catherine, but you sure as hell wouldn't fail Natasha.

-

The next morning, you woke up before the sun rose. You were a guard, but for Catherine, you surpassed your required duties.

It had taken years, but eventually you figured out how to perfect her favorite dish.

So now you were in the kitchen (still trying to get used to modern technology) preparing the dish in the hopes that Natasha would like it as Catherine had.

She was a Romanov (or well, Romanoff apparently) and deserved to be treated as such.

So, you practically poured your heart into it. You wiped a drop of sweat off your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting out a long, deep exhale, you turned around, making sure everything was right.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked as he came up behind you.

"Making food for Natasha," you replied with a small grin.

"Why?"

"Because it is my life's purpose to serve the Romanov family, and that now includes her,"

He let out a long sigh,

"Y/N, you know she's not actually royalty, right?"

"Yes, I know that,"

"Look, whatever happened in the 1700's... you don't need to be like her servant-" he started, but you cut him off.

"I am not a servant! I am an Imperial Guard... who does other things..."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't want to upset you. So he got what he needed, leaving you to it.

-

A few hours later, your face lit up as you saw the familiar redhead walking down the steps.

"Natasha!" You called. As soon as she entered the kitchen, you bowed down to her again as you held the dish. "This was something Catherine the Great loved, and I do hope that you'll enjoy it too,"

She wasn't sure what to say. Your bowing definitely caused her cheeks to flush red. Nonetheless, she took the bowl you held in front of her.

"Thanks," she said, looking down.

You stood up, keeping your head down.

"Of course,"

She cleared her throat, prompting you to finally look up at her. Once you made eye contact, she nodded another thanks. You smiled at her, always happy to serve.

-

The next few weeks went by much similar. You bowed down to her every time you saw her, and did everything you possibly could for her.

The others eventually stopped questioning you about it, which you were glad about.

In a way, Natasha reminded you of Catherine. They had the same emerald green eyes, showing so much warmth and fierceness at the same time.

You couldn't help but smile every time you saw her, always ready to do whatever it took to make her happy. You would cook for her every day, getting everything ready for her. Once you learned about her training, you would even set up the training room to how she liked it every day before she went in.

You were happy to do this, but she couldn't help but feel guilty. Especially when you bowed.

Her last name could've been a coincidence, or she could be a descendant of the Romanov Dynasty, she'd never know. Either way, it didn't feel right how you were bending over backwards for her.

So, she stood outside your room. Taking a slow breath in, she knocked on your door, waiting for you to answer.

As soon as you did, you dropped to your knees right away.

"Natasha," you muttered, lowering your head.

She exhaled, not yet meeting your eyes.

"Can we talk, please?" She asked, then added. "Without the bowing?"

You nodded, standing up. You smiled, wanting so desperately to make her happy.

"Yes?"

She gave a soft smile, putting her hand on your shoulder.

"I appreciate everything you're doing for me, I really do," she started. "But you don't have to treat me like this just because of my last name,"

Your heart dropped at her sympathetic gaze.

"In a way, you're much like Catherine," you told her. "But at the same time, you're completely different,"

She nodded,

"I know you cared for this Catherine very much, but you don't have to treat me like royalty because of her."

"But I want to,"

She cupped your face, taking a step in.

"If you want to keep treating me like this, maybe do it because of a date instead of my last name?"

"What?"

You were confused now, prompting her to smile again.

"I like you, Y/N, I do," she said. "But it's not fair for you to treat me like this because of who I might've been related to."

You finally realized what she was saying, taking a step closer to her.

"I did love Catherine," you admitted. "But you, Natasha, you're..."

You couldn't quite figure out what to say, but you were smiling nonetheless.

"In my eyes, you'll always be a queen,"

"I don't want you to be my guard, Y/N,"

"I understand that," you replied. "But I will always protect you, no matter what."

She brought her other hand down to your own.

"Good. And for once, you'll have a Romanoff protecting you too."

-

As time went on, your love for her began to have nothing to do with her last name. You kept your promise for the person she turned out to be. Despite everything, you would never stop treating her as she deserved.

She was more than a possible Romanov descendant, she was your Natasha.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x yn #black widow x you #black widow x fem reader #black widow x fem!reader #black widow x female reader #black widow fluff #natalia alianovna romanova

[metalheadcowboy]

Trans billy (ftm) squirting for the first time when Steve eats him out

(Starting by saying the dashes are where it really starts, the beginning is just me, I don’t even know what to call it lmao but read it if you want or you can just skip! 💛)

it’s the incognito tab for me WQEFPIWFEJROFDIHWFDHIJOFWOUDHDOIU

You didn’t ask for this and you don’t have to read the  part before ‘ANYWAYS’ but I felt the need to share my findings because I found it interesting and don’t want my new knowledge to go to waste 💛 SO,

Welcome to health class with Tyler! 🤠

Did you know when someone squirts their bladder fills but it’s not actually urine that comes out?? Well, it is, but only about 5% the other 95% is believed to be prostate fluid from around the person urethra making it colorless and odorless. And squirting and cumming are two totally different things! Squirting is believed to be triggered by having your g-spot stimulated and only 10- 54% of biological females are believed to be able to do it 😃👍

ANYWAYS, enough of that lmao, just had to put that out there because I wanted to and I can so suck it 😂

---------

Billy hadn’t been with a lot of people, not by any means. He’d been with two guys in California and Steve in Hawkins, that was it. He wasn’t opposed to sex, not at all, didn’t take a lot to get him turned on, but it did take him a lot to feel comfortable with showing his body to another person and sharing it with them. Usually before a guy could even get his shirt off the dysphoria would hit him like a semi and he’d be pulling it right back over his head. Even after top surgery, though he felt more comfortable with himself, but when it came to sex he still had his reserves. 

But then Steve came around. Steve who was so sweet, so loving, so caring. Steve who always assured him that he looked so handsome even on days where it didn’t feel like it. Steve was unlike any other person in his life, more accepting, more passionate. When Billy was with Steve he felt safe, secure, he didn’t feel like he would be judged around him like he felt with other people.

So, sex with Steve was easier and more comfortable for him. It also didn’t hurt that Steve could take his strap-on just as well as he could take Steve’s own dick. But something that he’d never had the pleasure of experiencing before was being eaten out. Sex pre-Steve was never exactly about him or his enjoyment. Most of the time it was about getting the other guy off more than himself, so when him and Steve were making out and Steve slowly trailed kisses down his neck, down his chest, down his tummy, lower, lower, lower. He was rather surprised but pleasantly so.

Steve’s mouth felt like heaven, like warm sunshine on a spring day and it was amazing. His hands shook as one of his hands gripped tightly onto Steve’s bed sheets, the other trying hard not to pull too harshly on his boyfriends beautiful chestnut waves between his thighs. Steve’s tongue thrusting in and out of him smoothly as his spit mixed with Billy’s own wetness, it was like bliss. He was trembling, eyes squeezed shut, back arched so pretty as Steve worked at him, nose teasing his dick.

Then Steve’s tongue brushed a spot inside of him, one that made him burst with pleasure, long moan escaping his lips. But something else overwhelmed him too, almost like he need to pee, but different. It was intense and something he’d never felt during sex before. He furrowed his eyebrows and let Steve continue.

His stomach was tense when it happened again, feeling himself getting closer and closer to cumming, then the tip of Steve’s tongue pressed right into that sweet spot inside of him and he felt the most intense pleasure he’d ever felt in his life. He whined, keening loudly and suddenly he felt like he pissed or something.

“Shit!” he exclaimed. Without thinking he quickly pulled Steve’s head away in embarrassment, yanking maybe a little too hard as he heard a pained noise on Steve’s end as he landed on his ass at the foot of the bed. Billy quickly closed his legs, snapping them shut, orgasm completely forgotten as he scooted back a little, legs pulled tightly to his chest.

He only felt more mortified when he looked at the wet spot right where he once was. He blushed profusely, covering his face with his hands.

“Please tell me I didn’t just...” he mumbled trailing off. He honestly felt like crying he was used to the uncomfortable feeling of dysphoria, but this was just plain old uncomfortable, unbearable embarrassment. When he heard Steve chuckling softly it made him wish the mattress would just swallow him whole like in Nightmare on Elm Street.

“You didn’t pee if that’s what you’re asking,” Steve answered, moving closer so he was sitting criss-cross, chin resting on one of Billy’s knees, comforting hand rubbing up and down the back of his calf.

Billy slowly lifted his head a little, revealing his distressed face, “How do you know?” he asked, maybe sounding a little short and annoyed, but Steve didn’t hold it against him.

“Didn’t smell like it,” Steve barely got out before Billy yelled out in sudden disapproval.

“Jesus, Steve, gross!” he exclaimed, groaning afterward in frustration and annoyance. Steve just smiled and kissed the skin just below Billy’s knee in an attempt to comfort him in any way. Billy was just glad Steve wasn’t totally disgusted with him, glad he could still stand to be around him. He was making a huge deal out of this, but he couldn't’ help it.

“You ever done that before?” Steve asked, warming Billy’s thigh with his hand now.

“You really think I’d be acting like this if I’d done that before,” Billy questioned with annoyance and Steve just shrugged.

“Maybe,” he responded, earning a glare from Billy, “It was hot, though.” Billy grabbed a pillow from the other side of the bed and hit Steve over the top of the head with it.

“Ow! You’re punishing me for thinking things you do are hot now?” he asked frantically, over-dramatically rubbing his head. 

“Yes,” Billy said simply, hitting him again with the pillow, this time harder, watching as he fell back onto the mattress going for a pillow of his own. Suddenly the bed was a mess of tangled limbs and flying pillows until they both dissolved into laughter.

“Still think it was hot,” Steve pointed out with a grin, Billy straddling his waist. He really should have seen it coming when Billy shoved a pillow over his face to shut him up.

Send me trans Steve/Billy asks 💛💛

#I usually don't love writting smut #because I'm not good at it lol #but this was fun to write even if it didn't turn out good lmao #Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Harringrove #Stranger things #Trans Billy Hargrove #lemons

[theodyker]

do u have any steve headcanons abt him being bi and if so .. can u share them 🤠

i do!! this isn’t a comprehensive list but the ones on my mind are:

steve’s first HUGE crush is on his little league team’s assistant coach, who is the coach’s high school aged son. he’s super cool and funny and good looking and knows so much about baseball and steve wants to be just like him.....and it’s only years later that steve has a lightbulb moment about all that

when steve is 13 he’s at a Very Mature birthday party with all the other cool kids playing spin the bottle. it lands on tommy h, and carol won’t let them get out of kissing each other. “make it a good one, don’t be pussies!” this isn’t steve’s first kiss, and it’s just like his other kisses; he feels tingly from the inside out, his heart beats faster, he wants another. but all the other kids think it’s absolutely hilarious, and tommy makes a huge show of gagging and wiping his mouth and letting everyone know how gross it was. and that’s the first time steve feels a little bit of fear deep down inside him. because he didn’t think it was gross, and that’s not right.

that’s the start of steve repressing himself HARD for the next few years. every lingering stare in the locker room, every fluttery feeling, every confusing dream gets shoved so far down it might as well not exist, because it’s not normal, and not being normal would make steve’s life as he knows it come crumbling down. he leans completely into liking girls and being the playboy douchebag everyone expects him to be, because any other option too terrifying to consider. he does such a good job of it, he even convinces himself.

and if he enjoys fashion and making his hair look good a little more than the rest of his friends seem to, that doesn’t mean anything. it’s all a part of why he’s King Steve, isn’t it?

befriending robin and wholeheartedly accepting her sexuality is where it all starts to unravel for steve. it’s not as easy to brush off how he looks at other guys without even meaning to. it’s not as easy for steve to convince himself he’s not like that because he can’t be like that, because, well, robin is. and steve would never dream of telling her she’s abnormal or dirty or wrong for it. but it’s always, always harder when it’s yourself.

one night robin brings steve with her to a party out in the city, a safe party. and there’s a guy there with a cute face and an even cuter smile who talks to steve and flirts with him and kisses him in the dark corner of a hallway, and afterwards steve has a total breakdown in his car. and robin holds his hand and listens, because she’s been there. god, she has. and when he runs out of steam robin looks at him with the softest smile and says “it’s okay, dingus. you’re okay. it’s all gonna be okay.”

this is getting long fjfkfjjg i’m really passionate about bisexual steve harrington ok

#thanks for asking!! #steve harrington #robin #bi steve harrington #stranger things #s3 spoilers #ok to rb

[flamingo-queen-writes]

Sunday Snippet 08.18.2019

I guess I’ll do one of these in addition to the Onion Challenge, just because. 

This snippet is from the second chapter of CCBB, as yet unposted to AO3. 

It has no relation whatsoever to anything in the Hazy series. ^_^

~~

“It’s weird and you don’t like it. I get it, I do.” 

Bucky’s starting to not like it much, either, truth be told. And he’s sure as fuck regretting sending that drone in the air to get Steve’s before-and-after photo shoot in the form of an aerial goat-wrangling saga. Inventing an audience to watch him be an idiot? What the fuck was he thinking with that?

“But tough shit, sweetheart,” he croons. “We’re doing this.” 

They are. They are doing this. He just has to… figure out how to do it with what he’s got to hand. And how many hands he’s got.

Doofus, soon to be Handlebar whether she likes it or not, squirms and bleats and stamps her hooves, none of which would be a terrible imposition except that she’s also shaking her head and coming close to stabbing his right hand with her horns when she throws her head back just so.

Duct taping a hunk of wood to a goat’s head is apparently more of a two-person job than he’d imagined it would be.

~~

🤠🐐🤦‍♂️

@glitter-cake20 I blame you.

#CCBB #Cyborg Cowboy Biker Bitch #Doofus aka Handlebar #Goats #Snippet Sunday #I swear there are some serious moments in this thing as well #It's not all unhinged