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#so this gifset is my proof

heartsgettingwiser62 · 1 year

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So, yeah, (I) need you, Mike. And (I) always will.

So, let me see if I understand... During the whole show, we're shown multiple times that, although Will has so many people that love him and care for him, there's only one person in the whole world that can truly understand him. Not his other best friends, not his mom, not his brother. Mike.

Which not only shows the beautiful, deep connection Will has with Mike because of this, which is why he fell in love with him; but also the beautiful, deep connection Mike has with Will to effortlessly understand him when no one else can.

They are connected beyond friendship, like Dustin and Lucas. They're connected beyond brotherhood and family, like Jonathan and Joyce.

And that's why Will needs Mike. And Mike needs to be needed. Mike was the most convinced that Will was still alive in s1, the one who stuck by his side in s2, the one who "mysteriously" acts weird around only Will in seasons 3 and 4. It's always different amongst them, always special.

We're told since minute one that they're each other person.

But, somehow... This doesn't mean that Mike's feelings are requited? They're gonna end up as just friends when we've stated than what they have is more than being best friends, not only from Will's side, but from Mike's side too?

All this effort in making Mike the only one who understands Will, to the point that Will needs him, just for his feelings not being requited, ultimately confirming that he can't get what he wants the most just because he's gay?

Suuuure.

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cinematicnomad · 4 months

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2023 Tumblr Top 10

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Created by TumblrTop10

#tumblrtop10 #proof the terror fandom is so small: i've been sharing a gifset a day for all of 2023 #not a single one of them cracked the top ten of my posts lol #i was REALLY thinking the fitzjames dress one would #but alas i just double checked and that gifset only reached 2k

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hollybell51 · 1 year

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Don't bet on it

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Castiel x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005)

Word count: 9.6K (I'm shocked too dw)

Summary: I have no idea how to describe this I'm so sorry it's just smut. There's also some morning-after shenanigans. Believe me if I could I would but thinking of a title was hard enough.

Content: Just... pretty much 9.6K words of shameless Cas smut because I love him. Only one bed, porn with a plot, friends to lovers (sort of), little bit of hurt/comfort and first aid (?), Cas is a bit of warning honestly. Smut: Cas is a virgin, first kiss, making out, hickeys, blowjob, handjob, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (yikes), fingering, very very light dirty talk, very loving very gentle sex, sharing a bed. Dean is a bit of an oblivious idiot, Sam is less oblivious.

Notes: I wrote this while trying to fall asleep at my friend's house and didn't proof read. I've also only known Cas for six episodes (almost seven), so most of the characterisation for him is based of gifsets, incorrect quotes, and other fanfics (so is the lore/plot because I'm not that far into the series yet but I was impatient so just ignore any mistakes or plot inconsistencies if you find them, although I did try). Hence it's probably bad. But oh well, this wouldn't leave my brain until I wrote it and like I said I'm impatient and also I'm a little bit proud of the smut alone and he's fucking hot I mean come on. Dean Winchester is a better man than me because god damn I would've jumped his bones the second he looked at me and I have no idea how he didn't. Be nice.

Cas was watching you. Again. It wasn’t like you minded, but something about his cool eyes following your movements from across the booth made butterflies swirl in your stomach. You were acutely aware of every single bubble in your glass of lemonade, every clink of the ice cubes, every slurpy noise it made through the straw you were sucking on. You probably looked a bit stupid, hunched over your drink and the plate that had contained your burger, the huge shirt you’d borrowed from Sam while the one you’d packed for yourself dried rolled up to your elbows, hanging off your shoulders way too much to ever be considered cute. Not that you wanted to look cute, and not that it mattered, but…

“There’s a pharmacy down the street,” Sam was saying. “They’d probably have more of that antiseptic, right?”

There was a pause in which you snuck a glance at Cas. His gaze was fixed on the bubbles clustering on your straw, mildly interested as they formed and floated away, formed and floated, again and again in an endless cycle. You’d never found bubbles so fascinating, but now that you looked – and you knew he was looking too – there’d never been anything so beautiful.

“(Y/N)?”

Right, yeah, antiseptic. The cut on your shoulder seemed to itch at the thought, prickling under the carefully applied dressing. You’d done it on a barbed wire fence that had barred the entry to a nest of vampires, and a day later Sam was still worried it would get infected. It wasn’t exactly a clean cut – the fence had been filthy, and your assurance that yes, you were up to date with tetanus shots had stopped him driving you to a hospital. You appreciated the concern, but really, you were sure it would be fine.

“Mhm,” you answered, leaning back in your seat. “D’you think it’ll still be open?”

Beside you, Dean frowned, looking around for a clock. “It’s not that late, right?”

“There’s an open sign in the window.” All eyes swung to Cas, who shrugged, pointing. “It’s lit up,” he added.

“Oh, right,” you said faintly. “Thanks Cas.”

He smiled, a tiny twitch of his lips that had no right to make your heart speed up as much as it did. “That’s ok.”

You smiled back. Your face seemed determined to ignore your brain and grin like an idiot, and it was a damn struggle to keep it to a normal expression.

“Right,” Sam said, clearing his throat and bursting the little bubble you could have sworn you’d been stuck in. You would have liked to stay there, where it was just Cas smiling at you. But no, you were being silly.

“Right,” you echoed. There was a slightly awkward silence, in which you swirled your straw around idly, watching Cas watch the movement of ice cubes and bubbles. When you’d first met him, you hadn’t really believed he was an angel. He seemed so… ordinary. Shabby, even. But the longer you were around him, the surer you’d become that he was the real deal. Strange, not what you’d expected at all, but a real honest-to-goodness angel nonetheless. Even now that he was human, there was still definitely something otherworldly in Cas. Something that, despite the grime and rust of the lives all four of you lead, was almost pure, precious to you, and a little unnerving all at once.

“Do you want some?” you asked, gesturing to your drink.

Cas’s eyes snapped up, almost guiltily.

You smiled. “Lemonade.”

He nodded slowly.

“Here.” You pushed the glass across the table, leaning your chin on your hands and watching as he moved the straw around, then sipped it. You’d been having way too much fun plying him with new things to taste, since food now actually tasted like… food. As opposed to molecules. Apparently.

He wrinkled his nose, drawing back and staring at the glass. Then he leaned forward again and took another sip. There was something in his near-childlike wonder that made your heart ache, the appearance of innocence and naivety so profound that it was hard to remember he was – had been – a soldier. A divine soldier of God. Watching him made you want to reach across the table and just… Well, you didn’t know what it made you want to do. Grab him, maybe? It didn’t matter.

“Any good?” Dean asked, watching Cas mildly.

“It’s very sweet,” he reported. “And sticky.”

Despite yourself, you laughed.

Cas surveyed you, then gave another of those little smiles you’d come to treasure. He took another sip, his eyes never leaving your face.

You cleared your throat, suddenly hyper aware of exactly where you were and what you were supposed to be doing. Not staring at – “mooning over” Dean had teasingly called it not even three days ago, a thought that still plagued you – Cas, that was for sure. You slid out of the booth, since you were the one who needed the antiseptic and you were on the edge. “I’ll go across, meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?” Sam asked, watching as you dropped some money on the table. Enough to cover your burger and a small portion of the tip.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” You turned towards Cas, shooting him a small smile. He looked a little confused, and you couldn’t deny the pang of guilt that tugged at your insides. “You can finish that off,” you told him, “if you want.”

“Thankyou,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded to Sam and Dean, the former of whom was staring between you and Cas with a look of what could only be described as incredulity plastered across his face. You were going to ignore it, you decided. “Seeya later,” you said, and left.

You stood before the motel room, shopping bag in hand, staring at Sam’s text. Had he and Dean done this deliberately? Was this some kind of conspiracy between the two of them?

“Room 09,” the message read, “you’re sharing with Cas.” And then, shortly after; “Don’t worry, it’s a double.”

Well, you thought, at least you wouldn’t have to share a bed, and at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the guilt of Cas taking the couch – even though he insisted he didn’t mind, and refused to let you do it.

Just as you raised your hand to knock, the door swung open and there stood the former angel, still in his beige trench coat, tie and all. He hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Hi,” you said, slightly breathless. There was something stupidly endearing about the way he just stood there, looking at you.

“Hi,” he repeated. “Do you want to come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” Awkwardly, you squeezed past him into the dully lit room, switching on the light with your elbow. Had he just been sitting in here by himself, in the dark? You hoped not, but at the same time, it was exactly the sort of thing you could imagine him doing.

You deposited your groceries – the antiseptic, a new packet of dressings, painkillers, and a twix you’d grabbed at the counter. You’d figured you could share it with whoever your roomie was, and now you were glad you’d had that foresight. You turned, surveyed the room, then did a double take. Surely not. There had to be something you were missing.

But no, on closer inspection, your eyes were not deceiving you. There was only one bed. A double bed, sure, but still only one bed.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you muttered, already reaching for your phone.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows.

“Sam said this was a double,” you told him.

“It is.”

“Yeah, but there’s only one bed. I always feel bad kicking you to the couch.”

“I don’t mind. And besides,” he added, “you’ve never kicked me.”

“No it’s–” you broke off, catching his smile. “Yeah, alright”

The smile widened. He was a little too proud of himself for your liking.

You looked away, hoping to hide your own grin as you dialled Sam’s number. “You said it was a double,” you accused before he could even greet you.

“Yeah, hi to you too,” he snorted. “It is.”

“There’s only one bed, Sam. Does your room have only one bed?”

“No, we’ve got two singles.”

“Lucky you,” you practically spat. “Now I’m gonna have to live with the guilt of knowing Cas is on the couch.”

“So?” You could almost hear the frown in Sam’s voice. “He doesn’t mind.”

“I know, but–”

“Share the bed with him if it bothers you that much,” he cut you off. In the background, Dean was saying something. Sam shushed him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to.”

“What’s that supposed to–”

He interrupted you again, all too cheerful. “You’ll sort it out.”

You stared at the phone, “call ended” flashing up at you. “Fuck you, Sam,” you sighed.

By the door, Cas frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” you sighed again, grabbing the dressings and antiseptic and taking a seat on the end of the singular bed. Through the gap in the curtains, the sky was darkening from the pale purple it had been at the diner to a deep indigo. “Just… Sam.”

Cas nodded solemnly, as if he knew exactly what you meant.

You tried not to pay too much attention to him as you unbuttoned Sam’s shirt, sliding it down off your shoulder to bare the current dressing. You’d had it on all that day and the night before, so you figured it was time to change it. Gently, you peeled back the adhesive, hissing as the air brushed over the cut. It wasn’t as bad as it had been, mostly scabbed over and less raw-looking than when you’d first applied the dressing, but it was still tender. It was awkward to reach too, running from your shoulder along your collarbone, stopping just shy of the centre of the sternum. Stupid, you’d cursed yourself when you’d done it, and you cursed yourself again now.

“Would you like some help?”

You looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes. Soundlessly, he’d crossed the room and was now standing directly in front of you.

He gestured to the cut. “It looks hard to reach.”

“Uh, yeah, it is.” You shifted over, making room for him beside you. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He sank down beside you, his weight tilting you towards him. Your stomach lurched.

Determinedly dismissing it, you turned slightly to face him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed, the other folded under you. Almost immediately you wished you hadn’t done it, because now all you could see was him, bent over you, his face impassive and focused to a fault.

He took the antiseptic from you, gently dabbing it along the edges of the scab.

“Is that alright?” he asked when you gasped softly.

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Just… stings a little.”

Guilt flashed across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s not you. You’re fine,” you assured him. “It’s the antiseptic, it’s normal.”

“Should I keep going?”

You nodded, your heart racing. His skin was cool where it brushed yours, the shitty lighting somehow playing tricks with the colours in his eyes, making them appear even more startlingly blue than usual. Those eyes were fixed on your cut, like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“I wish you’d taken me with you,” he said as he reached for a dressing pad.

“Hm?” You frowned, unsure what he meant. You’d gone alone, which wasn’t why you’d fumbled crossing the fence, but it certainly hadn’t helped. Sam and Dean had been after a demon in the next town over – it took precedence over vampires, you all knew that – and Cas had been with them. You’d been convinced you’d be alright to tackle such a small nest, it was only three, barely a nest at all, and had insisted on it. But still, you’d been a bit more wired than usual, and that was probably to blame for your bungled entrance. It didn’t matter now, you were fine. They were dead.

He shrugged, smoothing the dressing over your skin more gently than you’d ever thought possible. “On the hunt. I wish you’d taken me with you.”

“Nah,” you shook your head, trying to dispel the ache his action caused inside you. “You had other stuff on. You don’t need to be wasting time running after a nest of vampires, demons take priority.” You smiled. “You’ve got more to worry about than a silly little hunter who can’t jump fences.”

Cas looked up, that little wrinkle reappearing on his forehead. “That’s not true,” he said, “I’ll always have time for you. I’ll always worry about you.”

You froze, taken aback by the… intimacy of the words. You’d mentioned before that you liked when people just said what they meant (“Even if it hurts you?” he’d asked, frowning. You’d said that you’d rather that than be left searching for double meanings and hidden clues, and he’d seemed to find that acceptable.), and since then he’d indulged you in that regard. But this felt different, it felt more real than anything he’d ever said to you before. He’d always have time for you, he worried about you.

“Really?” you asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded, his eyes sincere where he held your gaze. There was something here, you knew, something tingling in the air between you. You’d half thought you were imagining things when you noticed him looking at you. You’d chalked it up to him being, well, Cas, and hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell too long on the glimmer of hope that it was more than that. And he’d been an angel for Pete’s sake; divine, untouchable, totally out of your reach. But here, now, with his hand resting where it had settled on your thigh and his face inches from yours, the dimness of the motel somehow illuminating every dancing fleck of colour in his eyes, every beautiful shadow and line on his – human – face, you weren’t ignoring it any longer.

His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You’re important to me, (Y/N).”

Oh. Oh. There it was.

He was still looking at you, but there was a hint of what you would have said was nervousness, maybe apprehension, mixed with the sincerity and lingering concern in his eyes. It was so… raw. You felt strangely vulnerable, while at the same time like you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to.

Involuntarily, your eyes flicked down to his lips, your breath hitching in your chest. Fuck it, you thought, then closed the few inches of space between you and pressed your lips to his.

He was completely motionless, and for a wild moment you were convinced you’d grossly misread something and had just made a massive mistake. Then it was like he was coming to life beneath you, pushing back against you, his lips parting under yours, his free hand finding its place cupping your cheek. His mouth was soft, impossibly soft. His tongue, when you brushed against it with your own, tasted like your lemonade.

It was near dead silent in the room, the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant thrumming of traffic outside the only noises. Then, as you slid your hand up over his leg, fingers squeezing gently at his thigh, Cas made a sound.

It was halfway between a sigh and moan, tiny and restrained, and you could feel him hesitate in the kiss. This is new, it said. This is nice. You let your lips curve into the smile they’d been trying to, squeezing again. It’s alright, you told him with your hand, you’re alright.

You drew back momentarily, sucking a quick breath as Cas chased you, his hand on the back of your neck pulling you closer and closer and closer and closer and impossibly closer until your chest met his. Then you were shifting into his lap, swinging your leg over his and straddling his hips like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was. It sure felt like it.

“Cas,” you breathed, breaking away properly this time and raising your hands to cup his face. “Castiel.”

“Hm?”

You moved your thumb in a soft arc over his cheekbone, smiling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His lips found your hand, peppering your palm and wrist with featherlight kisses.

“Can I?” you asked, reluctantly freeing a hand to push at the trench coat he was still wearing.

He looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Take it off,” you whispered, then heat rose in your cheeks. “If you want to, of course. If you want this. You don’t have to.”

He shook his head, pulling back to shrug off the heavy piece of clothing. The blazer followed. He loosened his tie, then seemed to think for a moment before undoing it altogether. It was the first time you’d seen him without it, and he looked… different. Unguarded, almost. Then he was reaching up and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, torturously slowly. He paused, meeting your eyes.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You smiled, nodding. You’d been staring, you realised, watching his deft fingers work at the material so intently that you hadn’t been thinking about what would show on your face. You took over, finishing off the last few fastenings and pushing the shirt back off his shoulders. You didn’t know what you’d expected his body to look like. You’d had the vague notion that it would be nice, that it would somehow match the rest of him, and you hadn’t been wrong, but now that he was in front of you that same disconcerting feeling of unearthliness haunted the back of your mind. This was Cas, Castiel, and that made it somehow hallowed – irony aside.

“Are you alright?” He was peering up at you, apprehensive.

You nodded. “Are you?”

He echoed your gesture, his fingers running along the collar of your own shirt. A question, a request, testing the waters.

Careful of your still-tender shoulder, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it smoothly over your head, then undid your bra and cast it to the side. Cas’s eyes snapped to your chest, interest and a sort of hunger mixing on his face. Hesitantly, slowly, his hand inched up your waist to your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He paused.

“It’s ok,” you breathed. When he still seemed wary, you reached down and took his hand in your own, guiding it to your breast and giving a gentle squeeze. His breath hitched, his tongue darting out between his lips.

“I’m…” he broke off, swallowing hard. He shifted, a hard bulge pressing against your thigh. You smiled.

“Hm?”

“I’m… I’m kind of…” He stopped again, floundering.

“It’s alright, Cas. You’re alright.”

He looked up, something close to nervousness dancing across his face. “I haven’t done this before,” he whispered. “I don’t know…”

Oh. Right. Why hadn’t you thought of that? It made sense, you supposed. Despite Dean’s best efforts, Cas hadn’t picked up the other guy’s… habits, at least not yet. You’d wondered about it briefly before coming to the conclusion that it had to be an angel thing, a choice on his behalf. You knew some people didn’t want that with just anyone, which you could understand. What you couldn’t understand was a world where nobody was interested in Cas, but then again, you might have been biassed.

You bit your lip. “Do you want to? It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I do,” he said, his hand still resting on your chest. “I really do, (Y/N). But I don’t know… what to do.”

“I’ll help you,” you assured him, affection blooming in your gut. And alongside it, an odd sort of pride. Cas was trusting you here, enough to admit he didn’t know what to do. It was more than any guy you’d ever been with had been willing to give away.

“We’ll go slow,” you continued. “You tell me what you like, what feels good. If you wanna stop, you say so, ok?”

He nodded.

You took his face in your hands again, running your fingers over the rough stubbled coating his jaw. “Can I touch you?”

“Please,” he murmured.

You trailed your hand down his neck, along his collar bone, over his chest. His skin was soft, smooth. It wasn’t scarred like Dean or Sam’s or your own, and suddenly you wondered if that was somehow a turn off for him. He’d been an angel, immortal, eternal, unblemished even now. If he hadn’t done this before, or even if he had with a normal human, he probably wouldn’t have encountered the kind of skin a hunter such as yourself possessed. Would it bother him?

Then his chest heaved under your hand, the flesh twitching as your touch crept lower, sideways, up again, mapping the expanse of his torso. He moaned softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, fingers splayed over his heart. Again, you swept down the centre of his body, all thoughts of your own imperfections dashed from your mind as you revelled in the little hums of pleasure you were coaxing from him.

Carefully, slowly, you inched lower. You passed his belly button, the light trail of hair that led down from it, finally encountering his belt buckle. You paused, tracing aimless patterns over the skin just above the waistline of his pants, pushing your fingers below the material after a moment.

“Is this alright?” you asked, watching his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, cheeks flushed.

“Mhm,” he sighed. “Yes.”

You smiled. God, he was beautiful. “You wanna take ‘em off?”

At that, his eyes snapped open, the pupils so wide they almost obscured the blue of his irises. “My pants?” he asked.

You nodded. “You don’t have to, but…” You ran your hand lightly over the increasingly noticeable bulge you could feel. “I can touch you? Here.”

He stared. “Do you want to?”

You gave a little huff of laughter, nodding. “Only if you do. I can keep touching you other places if you want, I can kiss you…” You stopped as he deftly reached down and undid his belt, button and fly in one fluid motion, lifting his hips momentarily and kicking off his pants. It was very fast, impressively smooth. And underneath…

Your mouth watered at the sight. The outline of his cock straining against his underwear, a small wet patch already forming. You usually didn’t indulge the mantra of “bigger is better”, especially not when it came to penises, but there was no denying that your pussy was already aching at the thought of the stretch Cas’s would cause. Not that it was a behemoth, far from it, but he was certainly well endowed.

His voice snapped you from your reverie, jerking your gaze away from his dick and back to his face. “Is that…” he paused, searching your gaze anxiously. “Is it alright?”

Your heart melted. “Oh, Cas,” you sighed. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Just perfect.”

A sound that could only be described as whine slipped from his still kiss-bruised lips, sending a bolt of heat shooting down your spine to pool between your legs. Before the request had formed on your tongue, he shed his underwear too, leaving himself bare to you.

“Have you touched yourself?” you asked, jerking your gaze from his cock. Fuck, you’d never wanted to lay hands on a dick more in your life.

Cas looked away for a moment. “No,” he said. “Should I have?”

You shook your head. “It’s up to you. I’d like to, if you’re ok with it.”

“Touch me?”

“Mhm.”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, then nodded.

“Ok.” Dammit, you thought. If this was his first time, you wanted him to feel good. Would he tell you if he didn’t? You thought he would, he was always honest when you asked him to be, and he clearly wanted this. But it was that same want that made you wonder if he’d just keep going no matter what, and you didn’t want that.

You quickly spat into your hand, stretching up, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, on second thoughts, you licked softly at his bottom lip. His breath rushed against your skin, the kiss hot and messy and barely even a kiss at all. It was more you licking into Cas’s mouth, Cas experimenting with his tongue in yours. After a few tries he found a rhythm, soft and supple, gentle and careful. Wonderful.

It was then that you reached down with your spit-lubed hand, wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length, coating the whole thing with moisture. There was already a little precum beading on the tip, and you used that too, your hand sliding easily. The skin here was smooth too, apart from the thick veins and swell of the head, the slit that you ran your thumb over, causing Cas to moan – really moan – into your mouth.

“Like this?” you murmured, moving your kisses away from his lips, over his stubble-roughed jaw, down to his neck. You sucked gently at the hollow under his jaw bone, hot and wet, leaving a red mark behind. You moved further down, over his jugular, more and more hickeys blossoming in your wake.

“Ah, (Y/N), yes–” Cas gasped. “Oh, just like that, please.”

You hummed softly, his breathlessness coupled with the words themselves like fog clouding your mind. All you wanted was more. More of his ragged voice, more of the desperate pleading, more of his hips jerking up into your hand and as your fingers slid smoothly over his cock. Your mouth paused at the base of his throat, made more apparent by the strain in his neck – the Plender gap, you thought it might have been called. You could vaguely picture that word with an arrow pointing to the spot on a medical diagram, although you weren’t sure why – and sucked a particularly dark hickey into the skin there. His collar would cover it in the morning.

His hand, which had been flitting about your waist, suddenly found its way to your hair. His fingers tangled in it, pulling your head back up so he could kiss you again. You smiled, your own free hand squeezing at his thigh just as you had before.

He moaned again, deep in the back of his throat, the sound reverberating through your whole body. How had you waited this long? If you’d known it’d be like this, you’d have jumped his bones the second you laid eyes on him. Hell, you’d wanted to.

“Can I use my mouth?” you asked between kisses – they still weren’t really kisses by any stringent definition, too messy for that.

“You are, hm, using your mouth,” Cas pointed out.

You laughed. It was so… matter of fact. “I mean down here,” you explained, giving his dick a gentle squeeze. “I can keep doing this if you want, but…”

“But?”

“I wanna taste you, Cas,” you smiled.

His mouth fell open, his cheeks colouring. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was new to this, you supposed. “Taste me?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, ducking forward to nip at his lip. “Wanna feel you in my mouth, wanna choke on your cock. I’ll make you feel so good, Cas, I promise.”

“(Y/N).” His voice was even more gravelly than usual, roughened by the raw desire glinting in his eyes.

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s sweet,” you laughed again. “I’m sure, Cas. Remember you can stop me whenever you want, though, yeah?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?”

He kissed you again, more gently and with more precision than before, then nodded. “Go ahead.”

You felt a grin break across your face, your mouth already watering. You didn’t waste time, giving Cas a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off the edge of the bed and kneeling between his legs, your arms resting comfortably on his thighs. You ignored the slight pull of your cut, taking his cock once more in your hand and pumping it gently, once, twice, three times before you lowered your head and kissed the tip.

Cas’s stomach twitched, his hand going once more to your hair as his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright?” you asked, your own breath ghosting over the sensitive area, raising goosebumps.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Keep going?”

You smiled. “Magic word?”

“Please,” he practically growled.

Alright then. You slid your lips over him, relaxing your mouth as you sank as far down his length as you could. What wouldn't fit in your mouth was taken care of by one hand, the other busy holding his hips down. He nearly whined when you moved, bobbing your head back and forth slowly at first, but faster by the minute.

“Oh,” he panted, “oh, (Y/N), yes–”

“Good?” you mumbled, but it didn’t come out sounding like the original word at all. Still, Cas seemed to get the point.

“So good, feels so good. You feel so good, (Y/N), you have no idea.”

The praise went straight to your panties, pooling with the rest of the hot wetness that had been gathering steadily. You’d wanted to take your time, be as careful and gentle as he’d been with you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure.

“Oh,” he whispered again as you sped up, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. He dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, the saltiness of his precum mixing with the lingering sweetness of your lemonade.

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Cas’s hips despite his best efforts to stay still, as well as your hand attempting to hold him down. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, relaxing completely.

“(Y/N),” he panted. “(Y/N).”

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos as his fingers tightened in your hair.

“You look… ah, so…” He paused, the words choked by another moan as your tongue swirled around his cock. “So beautiful.”

For the second time, your heart felt like it was melting in your chest. You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You were gonna make him cum in your mouth, you were determined. And after that – if he wanted, of course – you’d spread your legs for him and let him fuck you senseless.

He was close, he was so damn close, cock twitching and fingers clutching desperately at you despite his best attempts to be gentle. “I’m–” He broke off, gasping. “So much, (Y/N), it’s so much.”

You wondered if you should stop, if you should pull back and ask if he was ok. If he’d never done this before and hadn’t touched himself either, it was unlikely that he’d ever experienced an orgasm. Maybe you should reassure him. You ran your free hand down his thigh, squeezing gently. It’s alright, you tried to say with the gesture, hoping he’d understand. I’ve got you, you’re alright.

Then he was groaning deeply, his head thrown back and his eyes closed, thighs shaking under you and hot saltiness shooting down your throat. His skin shone with sweat, his chest heaving, his hand gripping your hair so tight it almost – almost – hurt. But it couldn’t have, not when your throat was working to swallow every drop of what he was giving you, not when he looked so beautiful laid out bare above you, not when you could see the pure, raw pleasure painted on his face.

As gently as you could, you drew back and licked him clean. You rested your head on his thigh, placing a soft kiss there, then drew back and sat, waiting.

Finally, Cas opened his eyes and looked at you. He took in your swollen lips, the flush you could feel dusting your cheeks, the tears that had leaked from your eyes, the bird’s nest that was your hair. And he smiled, reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Are you alright?” you asked, settling back on the bed beside him. You took his hands, holding them close to you. “It wasn’t… too much?”

“It was wonderful,” he said solemnly. Then he looked away. “Can I…”

“Yeah?” you prompted. “Can you…?”

He turned back, meeting your eyes. “I want to make you feel like that, too.”

Your stomach did a flip. “Oh.”

“Will you show me?” Cas’s eyes searched yours, curious and sincere. And how the hell could you say no to him?

You nodded, unbuttoning your pants and casting them off – admittedly with much less grace and efficiency than Cas. After a moment’s hesitation you did the same to your underwear, dropping them carelessly over the edge of the bed. You could hunt for them in the morning.

He was watching you the whole time, eyes following every movement you made in that way that was so him. You’d been unnerved by it before you’d gotten to know him, but now it just turned you on.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out and ran his hand over your stomach, up, up, up until he reached your breast. He didn’t stop as he had before, his thumb skimming your hard nipple, making you suck in a harsh breath.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm.”

“What about this?” He slid lower, past your belly button to where your leg joined your hip. It sent tingles running through your whole body.

“Mhm.”

“This?” Lower still, over your thigh, along the inside of it, so close to where you wanted him most.

“Yeah, Cas, you don’t have to ask.”

“I want you to feel–”

You stopped him with a kiss, brief and gentle. “Whatever you do is gonna feel great, ok?”

“But I’m–”

“Cas.”

He fell silent when you placed your hand on his face, leaning into your touch.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered. “I’m gonna help you, remember?”

He nodded, leaning forwards to press his lips against yours. He was getting pretty good at kissing, you noted. Not that he’d been bad when you’d started, but he’d figured out what worked with you.

“Show me,” he urged, the hand that had been tracing over your leg finding yours. “Show me where to touch you.”

This is it, you thought as he drew back, watching where his fingers twined with your own. He had officially smashed apart your standards for all men – and former angels – with just six words. You did as he asked, drawing his hand down between your legs to your now practically drenched pussy.

“Here,” you murmured, a little shock going through you as your fingers brushed your clit.

Cas’s eyes were wide, the pleasure-haze from his orgasm all but gone now. “Here?” he confirmed, pressing gently at the stiff little bundle of nerves.

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice much less steady than you’d have liked.

“Like this?” He slid his finger in a careful circle around it, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Yes, Cas, just like that.”

He did it again, then again and again. You sucked a harsh breath through your teeth, your hips twitching involuntarily.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “Fuck, Cas.”

“Is this alright?” he asked mildly.

“More than alright,” you half laughed, half panted. You broke off in another moan as he moved his hand, sliding the tips of his fingers around your hole, his palm pressing against your clit. You briefly wondered if he was doing it deliberately or just experimenting, and if he’d heard something about how to finger girls somewhere. If so, you wanted to know where. But, you thought a moment later, who really cared when it felt so damn good?

“Can I?” he murmured, watching your face carefully.

“Yeah,” you nodded frantically. “Yeah, go ahead— please.” The word was torn from you in a way that made colour bloom over Cas’s face as he pushed his finger into you. The heel of his hand was still pressing on your clit, and you ground down on it in a desperate search for friction as he added another finger, your own fingers digging into his shoulders and your breath coming in short gasps.

“Am I…” he started, then swallowed. “Is this good?”

“So fucking good,” you replied. “How the fuck are you so good at this?” It was ridiculous, unfair. Most dudes who’d tried had lamely poked at you until you’d given up trying to show them and just moaned loudly, leaving them to grin smugly, convinced they’d made you cum. Cas, however, was well on his way to conjuring the real thing.

He looked away for a moment, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Good, you thought. He should be satisfied, he was fucking phenomenal. “I’m not sure,” he said.

It was your turn to smile. “Well you are,” you said simply. Then he moved his hand again and all you could think was fuck, because he really was incredible. He was kissing your neck, sucking at the spot where it met your shoulder, his other hand resting on your hip as you rocked against him, his own soft moans mixing with yours.

And God, you wanted him to fuck you.

“Hold on,” you panted. Much as his fingers were doing it for you, you couldn’t fight the shiver the thought of his cock buried inside you sent down your spine.

Cas froze immediately.

“No, no, it’s ok,” you assured him quickly. “I wanna try something else.”

“Is this not–”

“You’re doing great,” you interrupted. “I promise. But…” As before, you slid your hand gently down to palm at the already half-formed erection sitting between his legs.

Cas frowned.

“Would you like to fuck me?” you asked tentatively. You hated how unsure you sounded, how small.

His eyebrows shot halfway up his face.

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly. But from the way his dick had visibly hardened at your words, you guessed he probably did. So, you continued, “I’d like it if you did.”

Again, his tongue darted out over his lips. His voice was husky when he spoke. “I’d like it too.”

“Ok, what are we waiting for?” You smiled, shuffling backwards and easing yourself back on the bed. When you saw that Cas wasn’t following, you reached over and took his hand, dragging him down on top of you. “Come on,” you encouraged.

He gave a little “oof” as he crashed against you, quickly propping himself up above you. It looked uncomfortable.

“Relax,” you said, wriggling into the mattress and running your hands over his arms and shoulders. “It’s alright.”

“I don’t want to squash you.”

You smiled, pulling at him to come closer. “You won’t, don’t worry.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Besides, I wouldn’t mind.”

He snorted indignantly. “I would. Then whose lemonade would I steal?”

You laughed at that. Castiel, former divine soldier of God, joking about stealing your lemonade while he was about to fuck you. If you’d gone back and told yourself from a year ago, she’d have slapped you in the loony bin. “You could just order your own,” you pointed out.

“I could,” he conceded. “But I will not.”

“Ok, I don’t mind.” You stretched up, capturing his lips with your own and drawing him down towards you. What you’d said was true, he really didn’t need to worry about squashing you. You liked the warm weight of him, the firmness and certainty that his body pressed against yours brought, his arms caging you to the bed.

You smiled as his tongue slid along your bottom lip, opening your mouth almost immediately. Yeah, he knew what he was doing now. You hooked your leg over his, pulling his hips hard against your own. You were still tingling, still electrified with want and need from having deprived yourself of his fingers just minutes before, and almost without your conscious awareness you ground against him.

You swallowed the little moan that slipped from his mouth, rubbing your wetness over his hard cock.

“(Y/N),” he gasped, breaking the kiss, his hips moving in time with yours.

“Cas,” you echoed, equally as breathless. “Please?”

He swallowed, his eyes dark.

“I want you inside me,” you continued. “Please, Cas, I need you inside me. Now.”

He cursed softly, so softly the only thing you caught was the tone. You wondered what angels cursed by. Not God, surely. But it didn’t matter, because he was taking himself in hand and lining up at your entrance, looking at you for permission. “Here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed inside you. You gave a little whimper that might have been embarrassing in any other situation at the stretch, the delicious feeling of being filled up completely by him. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t make a sound. He wasn’t even breathing, just staring at the place where your body swallowed his, his eyes wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, smiling at him when his eyes met yours. “You alright down there?”

“Yes,” he whispered, running a hand reverently over your stomach. His fingers brushed over your scars, some silver, some a newer pale pink. Your earlier doubts fluttered to the front of your mind, but you determinedly pushed them away. Now was not the time.

“You can move,” you told him, rocking your hips gently against his by way of demonstration. Then, “Please?”

He nodded, one hand resting on your hip as he pulled out a little, sliding smoothly back in. He hummed quietly, did it again, then again and again and again, finding his rhythm. It was good, it was as gentle as everything else, firm enough to pull at that special place deep in your belly, steady and decisive. Most of all, it was Cas. Cas fucking you, Cas’s cock sending spasms of heat through your body, Cas’s hand steadying himself and you, Cas’s lovely gravelly voice mumuring your name.

He leant further over you, bending his head to place a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the cut-free side of your collar bone, following it with another, more forceful one, then more until you were sure you looked like someone had spilt wine over your chest. You supposed it was only fair, given how many love bites you’d showered him with.

“Shit, Cas,” you whispered, your hand coming up to run over the back of his head, fingers carding through his mussed-up hair. You’d always wanted to fix it, stroke it down, maybe make it worse. When you’d first met him you’d gone so far as to tell him to his face that it was “un-angelic”. He’d been amused by that.

Now, he groaned against your skin. You smiled to yourself, stroking his scalp again and coaxing another wonderful little moan. You curled your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, lifting your hips off the mattress in time with his thrusts. His breath fanned over your neck, the muscles of his arm taut.

“I’m so close,” you whispered, and you were. The tightness was building in your stomach, coiling and swirling into a dense knot of pleasure. Every movement Cas made had his pelvis hitting your clit, the bedhead hitting the wall behind it – you briefly felt bad for the next room’s residents – and Cas’s cock hitting deep inside you. The only sounds were the squeaking of the mattress – again, you felt bad – and the wet slap of skin on skin, peppered with your combined moans and sighs.

“Fuck, Cas,” you gasped, your voice rising in pitch as you spiralled closer, closer… “Oh, shit, fuck, oh my God, Cas, Cas, I’m gonna cum, holy shit I’m gonna– Castiel!”

You let go, your eyes screwed tightly shut, spine arching off the bed as the bomb inside you exploded. Sparks fizzed through your veins, every muscle in your body clenching as stars speckled your vision and you cried Cas’s name over and over like some kind of mantra.

He hadn’t stopped, in fact he’d sped up, and when your mind finally crashed back into your body his hips were stuttering, his face buried in your neck. He spilled inside you, hot and thick as it had been in your mouth, a deep groan thrumming through you from where his lips still rested on your chest. He stilled after a moment, still holding most of his weight off you despite your arms wrapped around his back, whispering your name like it was a prayer.

You wriggled sideways, smiling as he went limp and flopped down beside you. Well, sort of beside you. His head and the better part of his shoulders still rested over your chest, his lips ghosting over you in feather light kisses, his hand running up and down your arm.

“We should get cleaned up,” you whispered after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Clean up,” you repeated. “We’re all sticky.”

“Oh,” was all he said. Then, “alright then.”

You extricated yourself, squeezing his shoulder gently as you rose and headed for the bathroom. You debated pulling him into the shower with you, but as your eyes settled on the folded washcloth by the sink you scrapped that idea. This would be quicker and easier, and you were tired, dammit. There’d be other opportunities — at least you hoped there would be.

You wiped yourself down, turning to find Cas standing in the doorway. The flickering yellow neon strip of illumination above the mirror cast weird shadows over his body, still shining with exertion. Beautiful, even with the medley of hickeys on his neck and the mess of his and your cum around his crotch.

You beckoned him closer, spongeing away the sweat and other spunk coating his skin. Occasionally you’d look up, without fail meeting his eyes. The usual interest had been replaced with something more; something whole and warm and just for you. The thought made your heart skip a beat.

When you were finished, you stretched up and kissed him again, just once. Then you took his hand, heading back towards the bed.

He hesitated, and you turned. He was looking at the couch, indecision marring his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I assumed you’d want the bed to yourself,” he shrugged. “You usually don’t share”

Oh, ok. “Usually, yeah,” you replied, as casually as you could. “But I wanna share with you.” You looked down at your still joined hands, pulling gently. “Stay?”

After a moment, he nodded.

It took longer than it should have to sort out the stupidly layered sheets and blankets, but finally you were both finished wriggling and shifting around, comfortably facing each other. You smiled at him, taking his hand again.

“I wondered what it would feel like to lie beside you, while you slept. You looked so… at peace.” He leaned forward the few inches between you, his lips cool against your forehead. “Beautiful.”

Your voice was quieter than you’d meant it to be, and breathier. “You watch me sleep?”

“It’s hard not to.” It may have been your imagination, but he sounded a little guilty.

You laughed, leaning forward to whisper, “That’s a little creepy, Cas.”

“Should I not have?”

“I don’t mind,” you said after a pause, “but maybe try not to mention things like that. Most people would find it weird.”

“You don’t?”

You shook your head. “Not when it’s you.” The hand that had been holding his was free now, sliding up to cup his face almost of its own volition. You pressed your lips to his, softly and slowly, sweet as syrup. You shifted closer still, draping your arm over him.

“Because I’m important to you, too?” he asked when you drew back. His eyes searched yours in the dimness, sincere and open. God, he was just… so much.

You smiled. “Yeah, Cas, you sure are.”

You woke to a hand running over your shoulder, the rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek and the steady beating of a heart. Cas’s heart, Cas’s chest, Cas’s hand.

“Hi,” you whispered, sitting up. His hand ceased its movements, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

“Hello.”

You dipped down, kissing him softly, your finger tracing the outline of his lips when you drew away. “Sleep well?”

He sighed deeply, staring at the ceiling for a moment before his gaze found yours again. “Better than I ever have before. Thank you, (Y/N).”

“That’s alright.” You looked away, heat rushing to your face. “It was my pleasure.”

“I can see why you – humans – like it so much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Sex,” he explained. “I think I get it now.”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Well, that was pretty good sex. For someone who’s never done it before, you were amazing.”

“Really?” He leaned back, surveying your face carefully.

You nodded. “And anyway,” you went on, “it usually feels better when it’s someone who’s…”

He waited, watching you stumble over your words.

“You know…” You paused, swallowing, half wishing you’d just left it at telling him he was good. “Someone who’s special to you,” you finished lamely.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “then I’m glad it was you.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that, so you just smiled and kissed him again. It was slow and lazy, his bare chest silken under your own, nothing but the soft rush of breath and tiny hum he gave, the rustle of the sheets, the ticking of the motel room clock. Then your phone rang.

“Fucking hell,” you muttered as you broke away, giving Cas a final apologetic peck before making your way to the table where you’d dumped it. Sam’s name flashed on the screen.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“Breakfast,” he answered. “What’s up your ass?”

“I was sleeping” you answered smoothly, then, “I don’t like being woken up.”

He snorted. “Yeah, alright. Meet us outside in, say, twenty minutes?”

You glanced at Cas, who was now sitting up and, you guessed it, watching you. You squished the phone to your chest. “Breakfast in twenty?” you asked.

He nodded, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. You couldn’t help staring just a little as he went about getting dressed, drinking in every rapidly disappearing inch of skin like some kind of sexually repressed Victorian maiden.

“Sure,” you said to Sam, then hung up. The problem that you hadn’t thought through last night was the hickeys. You had a scarf, you could button your shirt over your chest, and thankfully Cas had shown more restraint than you had. The most problematic mark sat right in the hollow under his jaw, two love bites blending together. It wasn’t even hickey-shaped, really, but you didn’t think that’d fool Dean and Sam.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked, fastening the final button on his shirt.

“Nothing,” you sighed. “But Dean’s gonna give us endless – and I mean endless – shit.”

“You’ve killed demons, (Y/N),” he smiled. “And you still can’t deal with Dean’s endless shit?”

“Oi! I can, I just don’t want to.” You crossed the room, poking him square in the chest. “And you’re gonna be dealing with it too, so don’t get cocky.”

“We’ll deal with it together.” It was tentative, almost a question.

You smiled, taking his hands. “Castiel and (Y/N) vs Dean Winchester’s endless shit. I can work with that.”

Things were a little strange over breakfast. Sam and Dean kept glancing at each other, having their annoying silent conversations that consisted of raised eyebrows and side-eyes, the occasional jerk of the head or twist of the mouth. Self consciously, you re-adjusted your scarf, pointedly not meeting anyeone’s eyes. You’d almost made the call not to sit next to Cas, but then he’d looked up at you from his spot by the window and you didn’t stand a chance. You were grateful for your decision when the food came, it made sharing with him a lot easier.

“Dude,” Sam said suddenly, twisting to face his brother and nearly taking out his glass of water. The eyebrow raising and eye-widening had gotten more intense in the last minute, and clearly they’d hit a boiling point.

“It’s not a hickey!” Dean protested. “It’s not even hickey-shaped!”

You froze, fork halfway to your mouth.

“What?” Cas voiced your thoughts, frowning over the cup of coffee he was nursing.

Sam sighed. “Cas, look out the window for a second.”

“Hey–” you started, but you were too late. Both Sam and Dean’s eyebrows shot halfway up their foreheads, and Cas was dutifully peering through the glass. Why did he choose now of all times to listen to Sam?

“That’s a hickey,” the younger man was claiming triumphantly, nodding to the stain on Cas’s neck.

Dean whistled softly. “That’s two hickeys. It’s like… a Siamese hickey.”

“Gross, Dean,” you muttered, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

He shrugged. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, (Y/N), lighten up. Congratulations, Cas. Who’s the lucky girl?”

Sam made a noise like he was choking. You studied your hands on the table in front of you. Dean grinned. Cas didn’t say anything.

“Was it that waitress?” Dean asked, leaning forwards. “She was cute, man, I’d have tapped that.”

“No, it wasn’t the waitress.”

Dean frowned, then his eyes widened. “The hotel receptionist?” he whispered. “Dude, she was a milf. Nice one.”

“Dean…” Sam started, looking between you and Cas. You glared.

“What? He deserves a pat on the back. I gotta say, I wasn’t sure if you had it in you.”

Sam sighed. “I don’t think it was the hotel receptionist.”

“No? Who else?”

Again, he glanced at you. You hadn’t moved, stiff as a statue and bracing for impact. You were so close to just spitting it out right there, biting the bullet and getting it over with. But you hadn’t discussed that with Cas, and you couldn’t exactly do so now.

Dean was looking expectantly at Sam, who was shaking his head in disbelief. You couldn’t blame him. Then, as if in slow motion, Dean’s face fell and realisation dawned in his eyes.

“No,” he said softly. “No, you didn’t.”

It was your turn to shrug. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t get a little bit of a kick out of Dean’s absolutely horrified expression. Endless shit that was about to rain down on you and all.

“You slept together? You,” he looked at you, “and you?” He looked at Cas.

“Yes,” the former angel said stiffly. “It was nicer than the couch.”

“No, I mean–”

You raised a hand, stopping him. “Yes, Dean,” you sighed. “Just… get it out now.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “That was you guys?”

“I told you,” Sam shrugged, looking all too smug.

Cas frowned. “Told him what?”

“We could hear you,” Dean muttered, his cheeks going a deep red. “I didn’t think we were sharing a wall, Sam did. Drew me a diagram of the motel layout and everything. I didn’t wanna believe it, I didn’t wanna know that… Aw, man!”

Sam’s smile widened, and he extended a hand across the table. “Pay up.”

“Pay up?” You glared at him, incredulous. “What the fuck do you mean, pay up?”

“I mean he owes me fifty. Thanks for that, by the way.” With this, he nodded to Cas.

You gaped. “Please don’t tell me you bet on me and Cas sleeping together. And please don’t tell me you bet for it.”

“What can I say? I knew it’d happen eventually, the way you drool over each other. Not my fault Dean actually took me up on it.”

You groaned, twisting to bury your face in Cas’s trench coat. Absently, he patted your hair. “Why can’t you guys just be normal about one single thing?” you lamented. “Who the hell bets on their friends sleeping together?”

“Actually,” Dean said through a mouthful of bacon, “it’s a very normal thing to do.”

“Mhm, back at Stanford–”

“Back at Stanford,” you mimicked, cutting him off. “I can’t believe you two.”

Dean held his hands up as if surrendering. “Hey, sorry, but I didn’t think either of you would have the balls to ever make a move. And it was fifty dollars, don’t try to tell me you wouldn’t take that.”

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit in the car all day with you.”

“Me too,” Cas added solemnly.

You sighed, taking his hand under the table and laying it between you, squeezing in full view of Sam and Dean. Cas squeezed back.

“You’re not allowed to… do anything in the back of my car.” Dean said after a moment. “Especially not with me or Sam there too.”

Defiantly, you shifted closer to Cas, fingers still entwined with his, firmly meeting Dean’s eyes. “Don’t bet on it.”

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 2 months

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02/20/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast&CrewSightings;SambaSchutteBTS;RhysDarbyCameo; DavidJenkins/RuiboQian; SaveOFMDCrew IG; Articles; Analysis & Trends; LoveNotes;DailyDarby/Tonight'sTaika;

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

= Samba Schute Feat Rhys Darby =

Srcs: Samba's Instagram

Videos on Tumblr:

Steard Video - @kiwistede

Merstede Video - @kiwistede

Videos on IG:

Steard Video

Merstede Video

And just to distract all of you again: gif courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew

== Rhys Darby ==

The Our Flag Means Death Fan Page on Facebook was kind enough to get a Cameo for the crew! This one features all things to visit if you're heading to Aotearoa! It's quite a large file so tumblr won't let me upload it so please visit: their site (where you can download the video) or on facebook!

The admin on the page was also kind enough to give us some links to the places he talks about in the video! Thanks friends!

Te Henga Walkway

Kemeu, New Zealand

Te Rimu Tahi Ponsonby

Aoraki Mount Cook National Park

Fiordland National Park

Franz Josef Glacier

Lake Tekapo

Punakaiki

Piopiotahi

== David Jenkins / Ruibo Qian ==

Hey! We got some proof of life from Chaos Dad on Samba's BTS, and a bit of love from Ruibo!

＝＝ Fan Spotlight ＝＝

February Love Collage Fest! So I am very behind on these so I'm going to share a few a day to try and catch up on these awesome collages our dear crewmember WanderingNomad @wndrngnomad on Twitter made!

Today's: Feb 20: Ra Vincent!

Feb 1 : Samba Schutte

== Save OFMD Crew IG Calendar ==

Over on Instagram the SaveOFMD Crew is keeping engagement up with "Crossover Cruesday", suggesting lots of fun ofmd crossovers (including Jurassic Park!) Feel free to check them out on their stories!

Tomorrow's engagement is #WrongWednesday!

== Analysis & Trends ==

So much data regarding OFMD's rank on Max. Thank you @adoptourcrew for this awesome analysis!

FULL EPISODE: https://t.co/HFVLQgm1Um

＝Trends＝

Huh, I wonder why RHYS could be trending today?

Thanks to @iamadequate1 for catching that #OurFlagMeansDeath was trending! A lot higher than the last few days too.

==Articles==

All The Shows Canceled In 2024 On TV & Streaming (So Far)

13 TV Shows Have Been Canceled in 2024 (Including 2 Netflix Series, 4 HBO Shows & More)

== Love Notes ==

Can I just take a moment here to tell you how very proud I am of you lovelies? Like seriously, you are being so supportive and sweet towards each other. You've been sending out love and positivity and sexy things to make everyone feel better and gah I just, every time I flip through this site/cross platform I am so incredibly moved. You all are the absolute best, and I'm so very grateful to be a part of this wonderful group of misfits. I'm sure I've said this recently, but IM SAYING IT AGAIN BECAUSE I FUCKING MEAN IT. Okay sorry for the caps, but for real I love you guys (gn), you make me smile and laugh every single day and I just you make the world such a better place to be in. I hope you know just how much you matter and what an amazing job you're doing making this community great. And I just wanted to add some additional love notes from @bethdrawsthings on IG because she always has things I want to say too. Goodnight or Goodday lovelies, I can't wait to see what shenanigans and love we get up to tomorrow <3

= Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika =

ALRIGHT, alright. You might think I'm lazy in choosing the gif everyone has seen but I just can't let you leave this post without seeing it again. Plus it fits with a taika gif, I love.

Taika gif courtesy @meluli!

Rhys gif courtesy of @bizarrelittlemew right here on tumblr!

And bonus Taika cause it's #TaikaTuesday, and I feel like it follows the theme... after...whatever happens after the gifs above. @blakbonnet Ty once again for this lovely gifset <3<3<3 It's HD and Gorgeous and you rock my socks off.

#ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #rhys darby #ruibo qian #david jenkins #samba schutte #ofmd #ofmd bts #our flag means death #save our flag means death #saveofmd #adopt our crew #save ofmd #renew our flag means death

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userlando · 2 years

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✧･ﾟ 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 (𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡)

billy hargrove x female!reader [4.6k] summary ⤍ all your friends had more or less gained more sexual experience over the summer. asking billy hargrove to help you out might not be the best idea, but you’re running out of options. warnings ⤍ 18+ (minors dni) petname use, explicit language, explicit smut, kissing, semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, hair pulling. a/n ⤍ so i couldn’t resist writing more billy. again, this isn’t canon billy so keep that in mind. thank you for all your love on my last fic, please consider leaving feedback and lmk what you thought of this. also, here’s a gifset that sparked this idea :) i haven’t proof read this since it’s 4am now and i wrote this on my phone, sorry. ily <3

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” Isn’t what you ever expected to ask Billy Hargrove. Especially by the public pools that he was supposed to be guarding.

He’d been sitting high up in his lifeguard chair, smacking his chewing gum enticingly with his eyes alert on every kid in and around the pools and opening his mouth to bark at the occasional running kid. You’d been watching him from afar, sitting up in your chaise lounge with your book half forgotten in your lap as you half-listened to your friends close by.

It wasn’t that surprising that sex was the topic of conversation, as it had been for the most part these past few weeks of the summer. Two of your friend group consisting of five had lost their virginities, and the other’s had somehow managed to score boyfriends. It wasn’t unusual or even weird, seeing as you were all on the cheerleading squad and more popular than you’d like to think about.

It irked you a little bit though, because sex had never been a big issue in your life until this summer. You had focused all you had on your grades and your team seeing as you were the head cheerleader at school. Boys weren’t an issue, you’d had exactly one boyfriend (minus Josh from middle school) and you’d broken up with him after four months when you’d caught him cheating on you with another girl. He had been your first everything, but not your first orgasm.

The guys that did try to ask you out always got shot down, and you tried not to think too hard about why that was your first instinct. Maybe you were still feeling the after effects of being cheated on, or maybe dating in general didn’t excite you as the average high schooler. Your friends called you a prude, and somehow that was the reputation you’d gained in school. The pristine, virginal and sweet cheerleader whom could not be conquered.

They weren’t too far off.

The girls were still chattering as you zoned out, and you caught some words that definitely weren’t meant to be said out loud where kids could hear. Your eyes scanned the pool, eyes squinting in the harsh sunlight until they landed on the lifeguard chair. Or more specifically, Billy.

You didn’t know why your brain conjured the outrageous idea up so fast. Maybe it was because your friends were discussing their boyfriend’s lengthy dicks or maybe you were feeling fed up with being excluded from those conversations. But you found your legs standing and moving before you could think twice of it, throwing a mumbled be right back over your shoulder.

Billy and you had exchanged maybe a full on sentence in your entire lives. You’d see each other at school and you’d once caught him smoking a joint in the girls bathroom. It had flustered you so much so that you’d backed out with a whispered sorry, not even wondering twice about why he was even in the girls bathroom to begin with.

Maybe that’s why Billy had the reaction he did when you stopped right below him. His eyebrows jumped on his forehead as you looked at each other, and you couldn’t read his face more than that thanks to his sunglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. But you imagined that he was quite surprised and a little lost.

“Hey, gorgeous.” He greeted you, voice like molten lava. It wasn’t hard to figure out why every girl and occasional boy were falling over their feet to get in his bed. He had quite the reputation.

You fought off the feeling of oh my god what in the world am I doing, raising your head to look him in the eye with more bravery than you felt.

“Can we talk?” You asked, sounding more nervous than you would’ve liked.

His interest was piqued though and you took a step back when he began climbing down the chair. You blinked slowly when he faced you, suddenly feeling tongue tied and ten times more jittery. He was a lot taller than you expected, smelling strongly of cologne and cigarette smoke as he pushed his hair back from his forehead. It was damp with perspiration, skin a little sun kissed from spending so many hours under the sun.

“So?” He trailed off, dragging out the vowel.

You let out a shuddered sigh, giving him a nervous smile that he returned with bewilderment. You didn’t blame him, the two of you had absolutely nothing to talk about. You ran in different circles and it was hard to believe you had anything in common.

“I know this is weird, it kinda is. I mean, we don’t know each other and —“ your rambling got cut off with a noise of thinly veiled annoyance.

Billy yanked his sunglasses off and you shut your mouth because holy shit. His eyes were strikingly blue up close, framed by long eyelashes that you couldn’t help but deeply admire. The sudden eye contact almost had your knees knocking together.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” He asked, not rudely. But it was clear he was losing patience. Or maybe he was losing interest.

So, you decided to bite the bullet and just come out with it, “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

The silence was deafening and the rest of the world fell off as your eyes darted between his. He didn’t give you anything, no twitch on his face nor did he laugh or scoff. You didn’t know what to expect, but the silence had you wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

“Oh god,” you whispered, bringing your hands up to your face in mortification as the quiet dragged on for a beat too long and you’d gotten a moment to realise what you’d said. “I’m so sorry, I don’t— I don’t know why I asked that.”

You contemplated walking back and grabbing your things, just so you could get out and never set foot here again. It would be difficult to avoid him in the hallways and in classes, but your ego was too bruised to even care about the logistics. Hell, you had half a mind to drive straight back home and beg your parents to move to a different state.

“I’m gonna go,” you huffed out a laugh that sounded a lot like shame and tacked on, for good measure, “sorry.”

Before you could turn around and do your walk of shame, Billy had reached out and circled his fingers around your wrist. You looked down at his grip, too afraid to look at his face or any other part of him.

“Hold on,” Billy sounded neutral, voice a tad bit strained as he rocked back on his feet in contemplation. “Why are you asking me this?”

Not only did you just embarrass yourself, now he wanted an explanation. The thought of it made you screw your face up in a grimace, closing your eyes as if you could close them from the wave of shame you felt crashing into you like violent waves.

“I don’t know.” You replied finally, voice small. “I guess I’m tired of feeling like an outcast.”

Billy’s startled laugh had you whipping your head up, glaring at him and he reached both hands up to his side in apology. He didn’t look very apologetic though, just amused.

“Sorry, I just— outcast, you said? You’re the head cheerleader.”

You crossed your arms over your chest in defence, ignoring his eyes jumping to the movement before he glanced back at your face. “So? That doesn’t mean I jump into bed with everyone.”

His lips stretched into a slow smirk that almost made you squirm, but you stood your ground and tried to look as harsh as possible. It didn’t seem to work, judging by Billy’s face, but you didn’t let it deter you.

“Nah,” his tongue poked the inner side of his cheek. “I’ve heard the opposite. You’re quite a hard catch, sweetheart.”

It made you cringe, the apples of your cheeks burning and you tried to tell yourself it was because of the way he was indirectly calling you a prude and not because he’d just called you sweetheart. Who gave him the right to be so smooth and confident?

“My friends have all… gained more experience. And I feel a little left out.” You wrung your hands together as you offered your explanation, glancing around to check that no one was listening.

It didn’t seem like it, thankfully. Kids were still swimming and dunking each other under water. You imagined that if Billy had been paying more attention, he would’ve cussed them out. But alas...

Billy sighed, clearly a little agitated as he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. His eyes glanced around, settling on something over your shoulder and you didn’t have to look behind you to see that he was looking at your friends. You cringed internally at the thought of them, knowing they’d have a million questions as to why you were speaking to Billy Hargrove of all people. You were as different as two people possibly could be. At least in social status.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I don’t fuck virgins.” His words jarred you, and you took a step back in shock.

The way he said it so bluntly almost made you recoil entirely. This entire situation was starting to seem so laughable.

“What? No!” You frowned. “I’m not a virgin.”

Billy looked confused now, “Then what the fuck are you asking me?”

The absurdity of it all almost made you laugh.

“I just need…” you trailed off. “Experience, I guess.”

Billy looked around, eyes faraway as he contemplated what you were asking of him. You didn’t blame him, it was a bizarre thing to ask of someone you barely knew.

“Alright,” his eyes looked you up and down, smirk crawling onto his face. “I get off in thirty minutes, meet me in the lobby by then.”

That had you pausing, eyebrows almost touching your hairline as you opened your mouth and closed it. You hadn’t expected him to say yes, but you certainly didn’t expect him to also want to do it today. Now? You weren’t ready, had hardly thought it through when you propositioned him. And what were you going to tell your friends?

“Wait, you want to do it now?” You hated how inexperienced and innocent you sounded, but your nerves were alight.

Billy squinted his eyes, the blue of his eyes almost disappearing behind his lids as he sucked his pink bottom lip into his mouth before releasing it. “I’m sorry, did you wanna schedule a session?”

You felt heat crawl up your neck, managing a shake of the head as you took a step back.

“Thirty minutes.” You said breathlessly.

The walk back to your friends was on autopilot, but your mind was running a mile a minute and you were sure your legs were gonna collapse from underneath you. You didn’t know what to expect, or how to feel about it all.

“What the hell?” One of your friends exclaimed when you plopped down on your lounge chair. You almost nodded because, yeah, what the hell?

The thirty minutes felt like days, as you sat in your chair. Your legs were crossed, book open in your lap but you were too anxious to really read. The words were all jumbled and your eyes were flicking over to the other side of the pool area. Billy was in his usual element and if he felt even half of the anxiety you were feeling, then he was a damn good actor. His posture was too relaxed, and he looked calmer than you felt.

You pretended not to look as another lifeguard padded out to where Billy was climbing down the ladder. They exchanged a few words and then Billy was walking away. You couldn’t look away as he passed you, and when your eyes briefly met, you quickly averted your gaze with warmth creeping up your face.

He disappeared into the building, and you gave it exactly two minutes before you told your friends you’d hit the restrooms. You didn’t give them a chance to say anything, getting out of your chair and walking briskly the way Billy had gone.

It was empty in the lobby area, everyone outside basking in the sun instead of sitting indoors. Heather was manning the reception, head down as she scribbled in a notepad. She looked bored and you sidestepped out of her field of view in fear that she’d spot you and strike up a conversation.

You felt his presence before you saw him.

“Come with me.” Billy grabbed your hand, pulling you along as he began walking down a narrow hallway.

You silently followed him, trying not to think too hard about how warm his hand was as it engulfed yours or how nicely his back muscles moved beneath his black top. His hair was curly and frizzy, looking a little dry from all the chlorine water and sunshine. He smelled like chlorine too, but it was more pleasant than one would expect.

It took you a moment to realise that he had stopped outside a door the furthest away from the lobby and you felt your eyebrows scrunch in a frown when he unlocked the door and pushed it open; Revealing a supply closet. It was big, cluttered and smelt weird.

Billy didn’t seem to mind much though, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. The darkness blanketed the room for a second before the boy flicked the switch. You blinked to get used to the dim light, turning around to look at Billy. Your heart was racing and the small sense of bravado you were feeling earlier had been extinguished as you stood in front of the unruly haired boy. He seemed to be contemplating you, eyes roaming your figure before he took a step forward.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice low enough that you felt it in the pit of your abdomen.

You almost shook your head, because kissing was romantic and intimate and this was anything but that. But you looked in his eyes, gaze dropping to his lips and you found yourself nodding your consent because they looked too inviting not to taste.

He didn’t waste time, fingers sliding over the sides of your throat and into your hair as he crowded your space. You stepped with him when he walked you backwards, pushing your body into a shelf. The impact had your mouth open in a gasp, but he swooped forward to swallow the sound. You moaned in surprise, eyes fluttering closed at the taste of minty gum and cigarette smoke.

Billy was a lot of things, and a good kisser was one of them. Sure, you didn’t have much experience but it didn’t take a genius to recognise a person who knew what he was doing. His lips moved with purpose, tilting your head with the help of his hands as he slowly explored your mouth. His nose pressed into your cheek, little puffs of breath escaping him. He pulled at your hair a little too hard and you unexpectedly moaned into his mouth at the pleasurable pain.

Your stomach was clenching and turning, heart beating so fast that you were afraid he’d be able to feel it when he pressed his chest against yours. If he did, he said nothing of it as he instead pried your mouth open wider for him to taste your tongue. He licked and sucked, his hands leaving your hair to explore your body. You were thankful to still be in your bikini, because it allowed you to feel the heat of his hands as they grabbed and pinched at the skin of your body.

“Good?” He asked breathlessly against your lips, pulling away a bit to look into your eyes.

He grinned wickedly at what he saw on your face; Eyes dazed and blown with lust, lips kissed raw. Billy didn’t know you, but it was clear that you were inexperienced and he intended to have your knees trembling and your voice hoarse before he let you walk out of the supply closet.

“Good.” You echoed, lips touching his when you nodded.

He couldn’t help but feel a small pang of endearment at the sight of you, hurrying to catch your lips in another filthy kiss before his mind strayed too far into unknown territory.

Your chest burned at the lack of oxygen you were getting, but you had no intention of slowing down because your bikini bottoms were getting damp with your slick and that was something new. A person had never had that effect on you. You didn’t even know it was possible to orgasm without the help of your hands and here you were now, turned on beyond belief just because someone was kissing you.

“Fuck, such a good girl,” Billy dragged his lips to your jaw, sucking and licking down your neck and between your tits. He paused a moment to pull back and reach his hands out to grab a handful of them. The action had you gasping, arching into his hold as he swiped his thumbs over your puckered nipples. “Oh baby, someone’s been neglecting you, hm?”

Your face burned at his words, a small whimper tumbling out of your mouth when he grabbed the flimsy material of your cups and pulled them down. Your hands automatically went up to hide your chest from him, but Billy tutted and grabbed both of your hands with a laugh.

“Billy—“ you turned your head up to stare at the ceiling in embarrassment.

“They’re so pretty, sweetheart, look at you.”

His voice had you squirming, pressing your thighs together and Billy almost groaned at the sight. His hands kneaded at your tits, sucking your right nipple into your mouth with a wet noise. His eyes were trained on your face, silently willing you to look back down so you could see how fucking starved he was for you.

The idea of fucking you was something that had passed his mind many times before. At those silly pep rallies, when you walked down the hallway with your friends in your uniform. Hell, he’d fantasise about bending you over and pulling at your ponytail in the classes he did attend. But those were fantasies, nothing more.

He could hardly believe that you were here, tits on display and his mouth suckling on you like a depraved man. He was quick to switch buds, giving it the same treatment before he kissed his way down your stomach. It was heaving, a clear indication that you were turned on beyond belief and something about that had Billy feeling absolutely feral. Fuck, he could smell you from where he was crouched in front of you.

His hands stroked your calves, up your legs before they stopped on your thighs. You whined into the room, bucking your hips a little when he stopped moving.

“Hey,” his voice broke the tense silence. “Look at me.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing as you glanced down at him. He was on his knees, pupils blown wide with lust and lips looking extra pink in the dim light. His cheeks were flushed, a light smattering of red and it looked way better on him than you wanted to admit.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” his voice was teasing, deliciously seductive. “Has anyone ever made you come?”

You rolled your hips at his words, feeling way too turned on to keep yourself together as you whined. It felt like you’d actually die if he didn’t touch you soon. Billy didn’t care though, he expected an answer and he pinched your thighs harshly in retaliation

“Answer me, pretty girl.” He coaxed. “Has anyone ever eaten this little pussy out?”

You felt like you were burning up from the inside when you looked down at him, shaking your head bashfully. “No.”

Billy frowned then, because fuck what a shame. And he voiced that out loud. “That’s a damn shame. You look so pretty like this, and you haven’t even come on my mouth yet.”

That got a moan out of you.

“Please, please,” your voice was small, needy. You were beyond caring about shame or anything other than his hands on you.

Billy danced his fingers up your thighs, touching your pussy over the material of your bikini bottoms. He felt a zap of arousal down his spine when he felt the bump of your swollen clit beneath his finger. You shuddered violently when he pressed the pad of his finger down against your nub, grin forming on his lips.

“Please, what?” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss your hip.

“Please, touch me.”

He didn’t waste anymore time, hooking his fingers into your bottoms and yanking them down your legs. He tapped your calf, urging you to step out of them and you were quick to obey. Billy grinned at your eagerness, fingers finding your center and spreading your lips open. You gasped at the sudden cool air on your slick pussy, rearing your hips back.

He grunted and grabbed a hold of your hip with one hand to pull you forward. You went willingly, mouth dropping open in a silent moan when he leaned forward and sealed his mouth on your cunt.

It was a new feeling, having someone’s mouth on you like this. Your ex-boyfriend had only ever fingered you before he fucked you, and you’d never managed to orgasm with him. Yet here you were, Billy’s mouth licking and sucking on your most sensitive area and your legs were trembling.

It felt like you were falling into the abyss, mind far away and mouth gapping open in silent moans and harsh intakes of breath. You tried to keep eye contact with the boy between your legs, but then he’d suck on or flick your clit with his tongue and you’d throw your head back.

The noises he was making were absolutely obscene, and it lit your nerves up like never before. He was moaning like a starved man, tongue digging into your hole and nose touching your clit so deliciously that you felt the telltale signs of an orgasm incoming.

You let go of the shelf with one hand to grip Billy’s hair, the softness of it grounding you for exactly two seconds before you were starting to make these needy, high pitched noises at the back of your throat. Billy loved it, but you were still in public and you were getting a little too loud. He pulled his mouth away from you, sliding a finger into you instead to keep you skating right on the edge of your orgasm.

“You need to be quiet sweetheart,” he whispered, mirroring your movement when you looked back down to nod at him. He wasn’t even sure you were fully listening to him, judging by the fucked out expression on your face. “Can you do that? Be quiet for me?”

You hummed, a dragged out mmm sound that went up in pitch when he crooked his finger up into the spongy spot, returning his mouth to solely focus on your clit. He ate you out eagerly, listening for sound cues and upping his speed when you bucked your hips into him. His scalp was on fire with how you were pulling at his hair, trying to get him as close to you as humanly possible, but he loved it. Billy was so hard in his shorts that he was sure he’d bust if he got a hand around himself.

He clasped a hand on one of your butt cheeks to pull you into him, and you don’t know why that did it for you. But your mouth opened into a silent scream as you shuddered through your orgasm; Pushing yourself into him as your vision blacked out.

Billy was humming into you, creating little vibrations against your clit that was rapidly growing more sensitive the longer he stayed licking on it. You moaned weakly, head lolling forward to find him staring at you.

“Mmm, hurts,” you rasped, jerking when he sucked on your sensitive bud. “Billy—“

“One more, sweetheart. Give me one more.” He begged you, sliding a second finger into your dripping core.

You almost buckled, grabbing the shelf behind you with both hands to keep yourself upright. The aftershocks faded the longer Billy licked and fucked you on his fingers, a familiar tingling returning as he started pickling up speed.

“Oh Billy,” you moaned, a touch too loud but you didn’t seem to care all to much as you started humping forwards.

Billy flushed, pleased with himself as he leaned back. His jaw was killing him so he replaced his tongue with his calloused thumb, rolling your clit underneath the pad of it like an expert.

“C’mon baby, let me see that pretty face.” He urged you on, fucking you harder and deeper with his fingers.

He didn’t expect you to buck your hips forward, throwing your head back and wail your orgasm out as you came on his hand. You were dripping, body trembling as it tilted forward as if to chase his relentless hand on your pussy. He was in awe, eyes not straying from your sweaty face as you came down from your high, slowing his fingers down before he eventually pulled them out.

You gave away a small hitched moan at the emptiness, and Billy couldn’t help but reach forward to give your clit a little kiss. Your hips jumped at the small touch to your sensitive bud, and you heaved a weak moan.

“Good?” He asked, feeling and sounding quite pleased with himself.

You didn’t reply, still a little lost in your recovery. But that was answer enough for the boy as he slowly reached for your bikini bottoms, pulling them up your legs and mournfully covering your pussy once again. He got to his feet, knees protesting and back aching.

You looked sinfully good, your tits still on display and sweaty all over. Your hands were still grasping onto the shelf as you struggled to hold your weight up, and Billy grinned at that. He silently pulled your cups up over your chest, covering it before he stroked a stray of sweaty hair from your face.

You blinked your eyes open then, and Billy almost lost his breath when they focused on him. You’d been so disarmed during the whole session, relaxed and shameless. So, it was almost endearing to watch how you came back to the present, stumbling upright on shaky legs and face morphing into that shy expression you often donned.

“I can—“ you trailed off weakly, reaching a hand out to grab at his shorts. Billy gathered all the strength in the world to stop you, fingers once again circling your wrist. You blinked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

Billy was still hard, aching to come, but you were in absolutely no shape to reciprocate and he was fine with that. He’d just wait until he got home to rub one out, probably.

“No need,” he gave you a smile when you frowned. “We’ll save that for next time.”

He had expected you to scoff, to roll your pretty little eyes and say that there was no next time. But all you did was give him a slow, shy smile. “Okay.”

Next time. You could work with that.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x fem reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

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kayluh1915 · 5 months

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psssst, disclaimer…

@swiftllama: *texts me with no context* EVERY BTS THEY GET GAYER AND GAYER

Me after watching said BTS:

It's Ianthony moment breakdown time, BBY!

I know I've been gone for a while but I've really been going through it, y'all. I want to post more from here on out, but I can't make any promises. Executive disfunction and ADHD paralysis sssuuuccckkkkssss.

Anyways, back to our regularly scheduled screamings!

Also, this is from a members only video. If you can, please support Ian and Anthony directly. I do not share content outside of small Ianthony moments like these.

The noise that came out of my mouth was not human in anyway, shape, or form! Anthony has carried Ian like this before, but it was before his departure. Back then they were really stiff and awkward with each other since their friendship was strained, as they have mentioned several times. Now they're super close and don't give a flying fuck and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

Sam has been keeping me up to date with everything and I just can't believe the timeline we're in. Everything else might be shit, but at least Ian and Anthony are back together and give us moments like these on the weekly! 😭They keep me sane.

ANYWAYS, I made some gifs of the moment because AHHHH and I'm going to break down the little moments that made my fandom heart flutter

Let's get to it!

Right off the bat, Ian very minorly freaks out when Anthony picks him up and immediately grips Anthony's arm. Logically, I know that anyone would grab onto the closest thing on instinct in this situation... but my Ianthony brain is screaming: "AWWW! ANTHONY MAKES HIM FEEL SAFE!!!!!!!"

Okay, my logic brain is calming down now because this gif just confirmed that Ian not only trusts Anthony whole heartedly but also FEELS SAFE! As soon as Anthony reassures him that he won't let him fall Ian relaxes and starts to let go of the death grip he has on Anthony's arm near the end of the gif.

Another demonstration of how much Ian trusts Anthony. He doesn't even flinch when he lifts him up and even has that face he makes that screams: "yeah yeah, we know Mr. Buff." after Anthony comments on how easy it is for him to hold Ian.

DUDE! The way Ian just goes limp after Anthony once again lets him know that he's got him. IT'S SO FUCKING CUTE and, again, is proof of how much he trusts him. He knows Anthony won't drop him and just decides to relax for a second, putting his full weight on Anthony's shoulders. I CANNOT! It's so intimate!!! Ian probably also took notes from Rhett's "I'm Dead" move he pulls on Link which I find hilarious.

Okay, this is my favorite one of this whole gifset. The way Anthony looks back at Ian to make sure he's still comfortable and then smiling to someone about it!?!? BRING AMBERLAMPS! MY HEART HAS STOPPED!

Damn, I needed these two in my life so badly right now. The fact that they pulled THIS SHIT just makes it so much better. I know they've said and done things more damning within the past few months, but I enjoy more intimate moments like these. Yeah, it's for a bit, but it shows just how much Anthony cares for Ian and how much Ian trusts him.

Lord have mercy, I need a nap after all of that. 😮‍💨

#kayla's ramblings #smosh #ian hecox #anthony padilla #ianthony #because it's obvious????#☀️🔍#smoshblr #carrying #LORDY #I still need that nap

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frecklystars · 1 month

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im gonna start making doodles trying to reclaim my TF F/Os that i've lost, maybe once a week or once every two weeks... or once a month?? i dont know, i will try to keep some consistency but i really need to start slow on this. here's to hoping that drawing them every once in a while will make even just the smallest difference.

im so sick of associating these characters with my abuser and i'm so sick of the immediate fight or flight response that i get when just looking at pictures of TF characters or even the voice actors. i have tried just about everything... therapy, medication, exercise, watching a few clips from the shows, buying cameos, commissioning art/fics, talking to voice actors in person at conventions... nothing has helped me get better at all. i tried giving up on TF entirely, throwing out/giving away all of my TF merch, refusing to touch the franchise, but that has only made me more and more miserable as time has passed. it has been over a year since [insert the most horrific experiences ever here] happened to me and since i associated that with a long list of things, TF included. and im! sick! of feeling bad! so! if im gonna be miserable no matter what, then i might as well try to get better, right?? drawing my F/Os loving me has never failed me before, so here's to hoping it isn't gonna fail me now. i am quite the stubborn bitch and i refuse to allow my main coping mechanism i've used for 2 decades to remain tainted forever and ever 😤😤

these will be the shakiest, shittiest doodles imaginable, but i think drawing the robots i miss so much at least once a month can help me rewire my brain into believing they're safe again and they love me and i'm not in danger. i think the best thing that will help me is drawing my Ryan F/Os interacting with them as "proof" that they're safe to be around, that they've "approved of" them, will help me slowly reclaim them. fake it til you make it as they say. let's try this for maybe just a couple of months as a slow start and see how it goes :/

any TF doodles will be tagged as "reclaiming robots tag" and nothing else - free to blacklist it if you dont wanna see. i'll most likely be rarely posting these but jic //shrug

anyway. yay. attempts number one and two. i like to think barbie and ken stop by the starflower meadow every now and then because stsc summons them across the multiverse, asking them how i'm doing, if i'm safe, if i miss him at all. wow i am shaking so bad. ha ha haaa. these took about ten?? minutes?? so woohoo to ten minutes of drawing TF. im proud of myself for trying. even if i dont go through with this and end up not being able to draw TF ever again, at least i managed this one single post. if i keep this up, maybe a year from now, or two years or five years or whatever, i'll be able to handle it. i don't even expect to hyperfixate on TF ever again because my self shipping will never ever be the same w/ them -- i'll never interact with the fandom again, i'll never reblog fanart or gifsets or anything like that ever again, if i even somehow managed to feel good enough to actually throw myself back into the shows -- but i want to think i'll feel indifferent to it one day. to not have that fight or flight response. that is my goal. literally the bare fucking minimum <3

anyway. i'm super nauseous. this is so incredibly hard! holy shit!!! but that's why i have to do this. to quote pedro pascal, i am going to have a panic attack and i am going to leave 👍✨

(BTW I am still gonna stay offline for a few more days. I am back from vacation but I am SO burnt out I don't want to interact with dms/my inbox yet. I just wanted to post this just to get it out of my system and let it disappear into the void. But I will be back later this week bc I still have some commissions to finish and I wanna gush about my very exciting time meeting steve/tom/the brba cast. anyway... goodnight. i love you. smooch)

#reclaiming robots tag

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bericas · 2 months

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gifset commissions for e-sims for gaza

Hello! I am officially opening up a commission form to raise donations for Palestine. While I may change where these donations will go per round, for this first round, all proceeds will go to buying e-sims for Gaza through @/connectinghumanity_ on Instagram.

As this is an urgent situation, I will only be taking requests for gifsets from Teen Wolf (to be posted on bericas) or Yellowjackets (to be posted on yellowjackets-1996), as these are the shows I know the best and will be able to gif quickest.

How the commission process will work:

I hope to have multiple rounds; each round will only have 4 slots, with a minimum donation amount of 10 dollars per slot

As this is a fundraiser, I will not be limiting how many can be submitted a person, but each request you submit will have to be submitted separately and paid for separately

The commission form is set to automatically close after it receives 4 submissions; if this includes a submission I choose not to accept, I’ll delete it so the form reopens and I’ll post that a slot has been reopened

I ran a poll to decide how donating the money would work; the results of this poll is that I will collect the proceeds and then post proof of donation. This process will go something like this:

No money will be sent to me until you receive proof I’ve started giffing your request

This proof will be a screenshot of the first completed gif

After receiving this, you’ll donate a minimum of 10 dollars to my ko-fi

For this first round, for transparency and proof of legitimacy, I’ll be buying an e-sim for every two donations received and posting proof. This is because the app I’m familiar is with Holafly, where the cheapest option is $19. Going forward, I plan to donate it at once, after all 4 gifsets are completed.

Click anywhere in this sentence for a link to the commission form!

Please reblog this post to help spread the word!! Thank you!!

To make this post less overwhelming on the dash, rules for requests are below the cut!

Again, as this is a fundraiser, please keep requests as simple as possible, meaning only using footage from the source material

(ex–a rarepair with little/no screentime will be accepted if I can make use of the canon footage; a request for an au that can use canon footage may be accepted if I think I can get it done quickly enough; any using outside footage will not be accepted)

For Teen Wolf requests: I won't gif Kate Argent in general, I won't gif St*rek in general, and I won’t gif any “taboo” topics like age gaps or incest. I also won’t gif any anti-Scott content, any anti-Deaton content, or really generally anything I think has racist connotations, which should be obvious

For clarity: I will gif Derek and the teens (excluding just Derek and Stiles) as long as it’s clearly platonic/”familial” in nature!

For Yellowjackets request: again, I won’t gif “taboo” topics like age gaps or incest, but I will gif things that are clearly platonic or familial in nature

(ex–I won’t gif a romantic request for Ben/Travis, but I will gif one with platonic/familial/generally non-romantic themes)

#commissions for palestine #commissions for gaza #idk how to tag this. hiiii.#pls boost!#also if any other gifmakers are interested in doing this too pls let me know! we could take turns doing rounds or smth!#i can only produce so much myself so i would loooove for this to turn into smth bigger

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bird-inacage · 9 months

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Love in the Air Locations | (Sky's Arc) as told through Sky's Bed

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)

This is where we see a real shift from Sky being alone to being in Prapai's care and company.

5 - Sky is comforted during a nightmare. Prapai immediately rushes over to soothe Sky, "I won't let anyone hurt you." Prapai's patient coaxing manages to calm him down. Based on what we know of Sky, he tries his best to hide his PTSD, even from his father. So it's unlikely that anyone has seen him in the midst of a nightmare. Sky is understandably shocked when he recognises it's Prapai of all people whose holding him in his arms. To Sky, this is kindness. This is relief. This is like water in a desert. And so he promptly breaks down. At his core, Sky knows he needs the support.

6 - Prapai watches over Sky sleep. I hadn't given this moment much thought but it's actually very endearing. Prapai accompanied Sky back to his dorm after 'Last Cheer', taking a quiet vigil over him whilst he peacefully sleeps. It's likely that either Prapai ushered Sky to bed (considering he was still feverish the night before), or Sky was so tired he fell asleep easily. What's worth noting here is how unguarded Sky already is with Prapai being in his space. We have to remember that Sky wasn't the one who initially let Prapai into his dorm. Rain did. Besides, Sky would have been too weak and delirious to put up a fight if he really wanted Prapai gone. This is the first time he's allowed Prapai into his dorm, by his bedside with permission. And the fact that Prapai simply watches over him as he rests is rewriting the narrative that his bed or 'any bed' is associated with torment. Rather, it's exactly what it should be, a place of sanctuary. It's precisely what Prapai (offhandedly) promised to do at the time he said, "Remember that this wind's watching over the Sky."

7 - Prapai keeps Sky company whilst he sleeps. Sky is now developing feelings for Prapai because (whether consciously or not), he's testing him. Prapai doesn't have to stay the night and he certainly doesn't have to rough it on the floor. He could sleep on the couch even. But he wants to remain close and so concedes, even admitting "What choice do I have? I've already lost to you", indicating that he's willing to accept any boundaries dictated on Sky's terms. This confirms what Prapai's attitude to consent is in response to Sky's test: 'If I say no, if I draw the line, will you respect my wishes?' Sky turns his back to Prapai because he's still holding his cards close to his chest. He may appear to be keeping Prapai at arm's length but that's still within reach.

8 - Prapai ushering Sky to bed when he's exhausted. At this point Sky is completely at ease with Prapai being around him when he's defenceless. He's only able to do so became he deems Prapai as harmless. The way they behave around one another feels amazingly routine, proof that this has become a frequent occurrence. Prapai takes care of Sky, and Sky lets him. Sky's increasing reliance on Prapai (such as letting Prapai look after him) demonstrates an immense degree of trust and acceptance.

Despite the location being Sky's bed, most of the scenes in this gifset are very wholesome. Considering how their first encounter was purely physical, I find this a really interesting story-telling device to deconstruct the meaning of 'being in bed' with another to all the things it can involve that don't have explicitly romantic or sexual undertones.

#LITA #love in the air #love in the air series #LITA mini meta #prapaisky #paisky #prapai x sky #sky x prapai #fortpeat #peat wasuthorn #fort thitipong #soft soft SOFT #the domesticity peaks in this gifset

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colourme-feral · 4 months

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✨2023: A Summary✨

Post your most popular and/or favourite edit/gifset/analysis for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)

Thanks to @lurkingshan for the tag! This is a pretty great way to do a wrap up of posts for the year past.

January

most popular — the NLMG title cards post (but tbh, I liked the idea, but not the calligraphy lol)

favourite — I identified one of my favourite locations

February

most popular — MLC and the chin tickles saga

favourite(s) — NLMG and some of its visual parallels and MLC and the passing of time

March

most popular — understandably, this post on MLC and some of its details

favourite — this post about chains of heart 😂😂😂

April

most popular — the use of light and warmth in ODT / Bokura no Shokutaku

favourite — brutalist architecture in Lockwood & Co. made my brain go brrr

May

most popular — (it was actually a poll, so I ignored that post) the very pride and prejudice of step by step

favourite — I was mad at Yutaka's parents for how they dealt with their adoption of him. Still valid to me

June

most popular — (again ignoring the poll) in an honestly shocking and unexpected twist, I actually considered the tops that Chot and Pat were wearing and what they might have meant

favourite(s) — the looks that minoru gives looking at yutaka talking to tane and part 2 of the Step by Step and Pride and Prejudice parallels

July

most popular — the hopes we had for kissing gmm grandpas in Hidden Agenda dashed by gmm

favourite(s) — this scene in Khun Chai that wouldn't leave my mind, leaving me not choice but to scream about it a year after watching the show and also my first loa/khun chai parallels post. If you listen carefully, you might still hear me screaming.

August

most popular — the packet of rice in loa

favourite(s) — the 2 part shared + spotted locations post for Baan Bellawin because it was so much work (part 1, part 2) but I guess I need to also do a shout out to the ifylita locations post for Yai's home

September

most popular — Troye Sivan's Got Me Started and its shared locations with Thai qls. This is actually the post I got the most notes for in 2023. really proud of it.

favourite(s) — loa brainrot so I made a loa parallels post, also loa and khun chai parallels post #2, another ifylita locations post for dear ol' robbo's home and genius chef junior (and then she cried)

October

most popular — I'm just gonna say that the best part of Zong Yi's cake shop are the catz. This post is also more proof that tumblr loves cats

favourite — @lurkingshan 's ask about my favourite location from a drama, which I used to do an entire list of locations I'd like to visit if I were in Bangkok, referencing some of my locations irl posts

November

most popular — Old Fashion Cupcake and its manga parallels, inspired by @troubled-mind. So fun to do!

favourite — I identified Babe's controversial house. I like it, but I know some people were screaming - and not in a good way 😂

December

most popular — I saw parallels between NLMG and Last Twilight and ran with it

favourite(s) — @my-rose-tinted-glasses was very kind to indulge me and asked for my favourite irl locations of 2023. I also couldn't help myself and started posting Last Twilight and Open Spaces. Excited about continuing these and also writing about these once I'm back home.

I'm sure some have already been tagged, but no pressure tags for @blmpff, @my-rose-tinted-glasses, @neuroticbookworm, @respectthepetty, @sparklyeyedhimbo, @telomeke, @troubled-mind and anyone else who might be interested!

This site was helpful for showing the top 10 posts of each month.

#the tag game #2023 in qls

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thewolvesof1998 · 4 months

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Created by @mostlyinthemorning

Day Eleven pt. 10 (Because I couldn't choose)

mi media naranja by oklahoma @malewifediaz

the side effects of eating too many clementines by oklahoma

It’s a testament to the deep fondness Eddie has for Buck that he doesn’t even bat an eye when Buck shows up at his house at one in the afternoon with a box full of oranges in his hands. He’s grinning like a fool, ugly and goofy and crooked, haloed by the sun behind his big head, and something deep in Eddie’s tummy shifts. He’s used to it. That always happens when Buck’s smiling like he is right now, all child-like and full of joy and wildness, so unrelentingly kind and free that no amount of ruin or rot can take it away from him. He’s bigger and stronger and tougher and brighter than even the Library of Alexandria, and that was one of the greatest wonders of the world. Buck’s a wonder of the world, then. The most wonderful, maybe. - Eddie realizes he’s in love with Buck while they’re in the kitchen, of all places.

the art of peeling mandarins for the one you love by oklahoma

“I’m asking you to be my husband.” Eddie sighs, straddling Buck’s thighs and sitting down on Buck’s big, cushiony lap. It’s his second favorite seat, after the recliner Athena bullied him into buying when his ribs broke in the overpass collapse. “Buck—” “And it makes sense, you know?” Buck cuts in, gripping Eddie’s thighs and pulling him in. Eddie can feel all of him, through the thin layers separating them. “I mean, I sat here and I watched you peel an orange for me ‘cause I can’t do it the way you do and in the time it took you to separate the sections I fell in love with you all over again.” - Buck asks Eddie to marry him in the kitchen, of all places.

There's not much to say other than Amanda's writing makes me actually feral (if you want proof look at the comments I leave on her fics- actually insane for the writing) and I want to devour her brain so I can write like her. I recommend every single one of her fics but these two are just to die for.

Rules: Every day for 12 days in December, choose a fandom work from any fandom from 2023 that you loved. It can be anything you like - a gifset, a drabble, fanart, a fic, or just a post that made you laugh.

Reblog the post and add a comment or tags about why you love it.

Tag your post with #12 days of fandom

tagging: @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @steadfastsaturnsrings @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @buddierights @jamespearce9-1-1 and anyone else who wants to participate (it's never too late!)

#9-1-1 #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #fic recs #12 days of fandom joy

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narastories · 26 days

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catching up about fandom stuff

Oh, hi! Do you mind if I ramble a bit?

I feel like I've been a little distant and antisocial in the past few months due to personal stuff (mainly because my trauma bucket got kicked over many, many times, but also I've been trying to get the ball rolling on a few things I've been meaning to do for a while). And I know I'm not the only one who has been having a hard time. But now it's spring here, and I'm feeling a little hopeful and a bit more inspired. Is it just me? Do we dare to be hopeful??

I'm reminding myself that both of my favorite urban fantasy series, and main fandoms nowadays are due a new book maybe this year, and that is exciting and very much things to look forward to! It also makes me want to quickly write fic ideas I have before the canon status quo changes lol (Not that it matters. I believe you can write whatever you want. But with both of these series, we love to theorize about what is going to happen, so it feels like things are just not going to be the same when we get new pieces of information, you know?)

I'm also acutely aware that I haven't posted a Harry/Nic fanfic since the OTP challenge in NOVEMBER 2022 wtf. And uh, yeah. If you needed any further proof of my poor mental health then it is probably proof enough that I haven't touched my favorite obscure little OTP.

The good news is, that I have actually been inspired to write lately. I'm doing a little re-read of the FPA books, and also Skin Game, and it's all putting me back in the mood for fanfic. And I have been typing away for the past few weeks, trying to get back into it.

The bad news is, that I don't feel like posting things yet. I just want to be kind to myself and create without having to worry about sharing it. I know this might sound hypocritical bc I just shared a post about connecting in fandom. At the same time, sometimes it does good for a story to just let it sit and simmer a bit.

There is this expression (that I don't think is actually very popular in the English language) "to write for the drawer" and I never thought that was a bad thing. Sure I write very niche stuff so you would think it doesn't matter either way, but a story is never the same after you release it out into the world. So it's okay to keep it to yourself for a while and tinker with it and enjoy the process.

I also discovered gif making for myself. (If you have seen the gifset I posted yesterday, no you didn't :P I put it on private bc I wasn't happy with it yet. Mainly bc of the subtitle thing. I either have to figure out a clever overlay or venture out into the foreign planes of the internet to forage a little bit more lmao) I think the popularity of gifsets on tumblr is so fascinating, bc it's a format that just isn't very popular elsewhere (or convenient lol). When I was younger in fandom I never had a good enough computer to do this kind of editing. So now it just made me so happy to realize that my computer can do it, and I found it a relaxing activity.

I already dipped my toe in it with that Hellraiser/DF quote gifset, but now I figured out a method to make it look a lot better. And with open source tools too! That made me especially happy lol But I also realized that if I want to post gifsets then I might have to break my "no sideblogs" rule... Anyway, this is just one more thing that I will probably experiment with privately, and then we'll see if I put it out there or not.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is: creative hobbies are important. And if you can bring yourself to do them even when you feel like shit, it usually helps to feel a little less shitty. And that I will incubate my little projects for a while longer and then maybe I will feel like sharing them.

#personal #that's what's been going on in my head #how are we all doing?#fandom #nara rambles #also tumblr has been really bad lately and didn't show me posts from a lot of mutuals #so that didn't help

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