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stormyoceans · 7 months

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Ok ok ok random observations i had while watching ep 1 of LT, which was amazing wonderful heartsopping showstopping breathtaking etc etc. (In all seriousness, it really exceeded my expectations)

- .... is it just me or did we get a flirty vibe, they might kiss vibe from august and day? No? Just me?

- i am so glad sea can play badminton bec they sold the intensity of the scene so well!

- that transition between the match and the fight where both of their lives will forever change.... peak cinema

- day calling out for his mum (i might have teared up)

- the dread falling on mork's face when he kept asking porjai about his sister and THE DESPERATION IN HIS VOICE (i might have teared up x2)

- YAAAAS give me that lakorn intro-- this is when you know shit is good

- something something commentary about how the stigma of going to prison never leaving ex-convicts because society refuses to accept their reintegration into society something something

- porjai is so good, i love her already!

- Rung nooooooooo. The way mork's character is already fleshed out so perfectly in just 30 mins.... cinema. "The one who should feel guilty is her" omg

- the way day's internalized pain seeps into every word he says, every cynical comment. If people are going to treat him like he's invisible just because he lost his sight, he's going to force them to "see" him through his shocking words and attitude

- the interview scene was GOLD. I love how it's already telling us their dynamic and laying down the groundwork for their personalities together and how they'll constantly challenge each other

- The bandaid.... mork in rung's car remembering her with tears in his eyes (i teared up x3)

- Damn day harbors a lot of resentment towards night... this brings me back to the two photos we see of them in the very beginning and the contrast between them.... again, i am having thoughts...

- Day getting overwhelmed with the sounds of the cars and honks... mork saving day... mork giving day agency and asking where to take him.... CINEMA

- LIterally the first thing that came to mind when i saw the little prince was when your genius self said this:

- "I'll see you." When both of them are falsly perceived by those around them. CINEMA

That was a FANTASTIC first episode. I can't wait to see how day and mork are gonna from this to this

and this

AND THIS

One thing i am also so intrigued by is all the relationships they've hinted at so far: Night and Day as well as their relationship with their mom. Mork and Porjai. Day and August (and Gee). I cannot wait for all of this to be explored in the upcoming episodes!

I also have a feeling day's mom is not gonna be on board of this arrangement? but we'll see. FRIDAY WHEN?

I AM INCREDIBLY LATE AS USUAL WITH THIS REPLY BUT I HOPE YOU KNOW I WAS SO HAPPY TO GET ALL YOUR COMMENTS ABOUT THE FIRST EPISODE IT REALLY WAS EVERYTHING I WANTED AND EVEN MORE AND IM SO CURIOUS AND EXCITED ABOUT ALL THE DIFFERENT DYNAMICS I WISH I HAD THE TIME TO TALK ABOUT IT 24/7

as it is, please accept some of my very messy thoughts!!!!

- .... is it just me or did we get a flirty vibe, they might kiss vibe from august and day? No? Just me? <<< IT’S VERY MUCH NOT JUST YOU BECAUSE I HAD THE SAME FEELING. i actually got a message about august and day that i still didn’t get around to answer (because im terrible ;;;;;) and i wanted to go more in depth about their relationship there, but yeah, even if it was a very brief scene, i love how they already established their dynamic: you can tell that they both have very strong personalities and that as friends and as badminton partners they snark at each other but also deeply care, and the fact that this immediately makes you wonder if there ever was something more between them is incredibly effective because it will help the viewers understand how mork feels watching them from the outside and ask himself the exact same thing. sea and ohm also have a very nice chemistry, which isn’t only nice to see in itself but actually serves the narrative as well in this particular case

- i am so glad sea can play badminton bec they sold the intensity of the scene so well! <<< THAT'S OUR PROFESSIONAL BADMINTON PLAYER SEA TAWINAN ANUKOOLPRASERT AND NO ONE SHOULD FORGET ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!

- not mork betting against day's team, which is his own country's lmao. Also not to be my overthinking self, but mork going from rooting against day to rooting for him, his wellbeing, happiness etc etc later on <<< BRITNEY_YEAH.GIF I FEEL SO INCREDIBLY NORMAL ABOUT THIS IT’S HONESTLY INSANE HOW NORMAL AND HINGED AND SANE AND FINE I FEEL ABOUT THIS

- that transition between the match and the fight where both of their lives will forever change.... peak cinema <<< FIRST TEN MINUTES OF THE SHOW ARE REALLY GIVING VICE VERSA EPISODE 11 PART 1 LEVELS OF CINEMA LIKE THE TRANSITIONS THE PARALLELS THE TENSION THE IMPLICATIONS THE ALREADY PALPABLE LIFE ALTERING CONNECTION BETWEEN THEM THE IMPENDING SENSE OF TRAGEDY THE WATER MOTIF BEING DELIVERED BY THE PLAY OF LIGHTS I FEEL SO DEEPLY MENTALLY UNWELL ABOUT IT ALL [GETS DRAGGED INTO A PADDED ROOM]

- day calling out for his mum (i might have teared up) // - the dread falling on mork's face when he kept asking porjai about his sister and THE DESPERATION IN HIS VOICE (i might have teared up x2) <<< jimmysea showed up on that set and said we are ACTORS who ACT and then proceeded to indeed OUTACT OUTPERFORM OUTSELL OUTSERVE OUTSLAY the majority of the artists in the industry I SAID WHAT I SAID AND I WILL SHUT UP ONLY WHEN PEOPLE ARE GONNA STOP SLEEPING ON THEM. these two moments alone are already giving performance of all time!!!!!

- something something commentary about how the stigma of going to prison never leaving ex-convicts because society refuses to accept their reintegration into society something something <<< SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK!!!!!!! wish i had the time, energy and intelligence to write about the way both mork and day are being stigmatized (defined as the co-occurrence of labeling, stereotyping, separation, status loss, and discrimination) and how the label of ‘deviant’ (defined as departing from usual or accepted standards dictated by society) is altering their own perception of self BUT ALAS. SOMETHING SOMETHING INDEED

- porjai is so good, i love her already! <<< SAME!!!!! IM SO IN LOVE WITH HER AND HER FRIENDSHIP WITH MORK i love exes who realized that their love for each other has always been platonic and are now the most supportive friends to each other!!!!! unfortunately there's this theory im pretty much sure of that her current boyfriend is an asshole so IM READY TO FIGHT EVERYONE FOR HER

- the interview scene was GOLD. I love how it's already telling us their dynamic and laying down the groundwork for their personalities together and how they'll constantly challenge each other <<< NGL THIS GENUINELY MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE FIRST MEETING IN THE HISTORY OF FIRST MEETINGS. JUST THE CHEMISTRY THE TENSION THE SPARK THE ELECTRICITY THE MAGNETISM THE CHALLENGE THE SNARK THE SEEING THE PERCEIVING THE PULL TOWARDS EACH OTHER THE CHIN GRAB. i know im just screaming without adding anything of importance but GOD. i love to see two actual strangers with no previous attachment to each other meet and develop an interest in each other born from their actions and words and personalities. THEY HARDLY MAKE THEM LIKE THIS ANYMORE NOWADAYS

- The bandaid.... mork in rung's car remembering her with tears in his eyes (i teared up x3) <<< THE GUILT THE GRIEF THE HURT THE FEELING OF BEING ABANDONED. BUT ALSO THE CARE THE LOVE THE DEVOTION THE KNOWLEDGE OF BEING LOOKED AFTER. ALL OF THIS PERFECTLY REPRESENTED BY A BANDAID AND A CAR. CAPITAL LETTERS CINEMA!!!!!!!!

- Something something about how night's shirt is light blue (like the day) and day's is dark blue (light the night) with strips of light... i am thinking thoughts, not sure exactly what it is yet but i have them! <<< YOU AND ME BOTH FRIEND LIKE. im already having so many thoughts about the lighting in the show going from dark and blue/gray to light and yellow/orange as mork and day get closer and start to change each other's lives, but now it also seems like their clothes are also gonna go from muted and more neutral colors to brighter and warmer ones, and then there are night and day as well and the way they both wore stripes in this episode but night's were vertical and day's horizontal AND I KNOW IT MEANS SOMETHING AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR SMARTER PEOPLE TO WRITE ABOUT IT AS I SCREAM WAIL HOWL SCREECH YELL IN THE DISTANCE

- ok but I LOVE how mork is just observing day and noticing how day is way more independent than his family makes him seem to be. I just really love how he didn't interfere and was /watching/ him, trying to figure him out <<< the aforementioned smarter people have already talked about this way better than i ever could, but i really do love how, in a world that wants them both to be invisible, mork and day are the only ones seeing each other. like you said before, part of the reason day is acting the way he is is because he doesn't want to become a ghost haunting other people's lives, the monster locked in the attic (if we want to use a literary reference), he wants to live and to be seen too, and i think it was so important to include a scene where mork is just WATCHING him, because being perceived may have become a meme, but that's what can eventually lead to curiosity and interest and understanding and love. you can't care about something you don't (want to) see, but fortunately, mork does

- Damn day harbors a lot of resentment towards night... this brings me back to the two photos we see of them in the very beginning and the contrast between them.... again, i am having thoughts... <<< not sure if you've seen it, but the current theory is night being somewhat responsible for day's accident, which i got the chance to talk about here if you want to check it out and then let me know what you think!!!!!

- LIterally the first thing that came to mind when i saw the little prince was when your genius self said this <<< NOT YOU REMEMBERING THINGS I SAID THAT I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER SAYING MYSELF PLEASE THAT'S JUST SO INCREDIBLY SWEET IM SO TOUCHED RIGHT NOW 😭😭😭 AND NOT TO TOOT MY OWN HORN BUT ONCE AGAIN I WANT TO POINT OUT JUST HOW MUCH I LOVE TO WIN WINNING AND BEING A WINNER. EVEN WHEN I FORGOT ABOUT THE VISION, THE VISION DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT ME HASHTAG WINNERY

IN CONCLUSION: LITERALLY US WATCHING EVERY SINGLE SCENE FROM THE EPISODE

#TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!!!!#IM ALREADY VIBRATING OUT OF MY SKIN AND INTO THE STRATOSPHERE #THE WAY I FEEL LIKE I HAVEN'T SCREAMED ABOUT THE SHOW AS MUCH AS I WANTED #(because im also stupid and panicking every other hour about the last three episodes)#SO IM VERY GRATEFUL I GOT THE CHANCE TO TALK ABOUT IT A LITTLE MORE THANKS TO YOU #THANK YOU H!!!!!! 💜💜💜💜#last twilight the series #long post #h 🧡#m: ask

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zhongrin · 1 year

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R I N

L O O K A T D I S

I am literally on my knees... the first two pictures... I- God, I am not your strongest soldier.

BARK BARK BARK ARF ARF WOOF WOOF WHINE BARK ARF MEOW MEOW MROOOW WOOF ARF WHINE CHIRP SQUEAK BARK ARF MEOW WOOF

mei.exe has crashed.

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: dust 🧡#O H M Y A R C H O N S #I AM UNWELL

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yamikawas · 1 year

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Yesterday I found out some filth that hasn't been active in over a year in a selfship Discord I'm in ships/shipped with my F/O and simply didn't list him in their F/O list (I would have left otherwise) and it made me feel so ill I threw up therefore I will now be writing to you about Yoomtah because yan selfshippers are the only real ones <3

Happy three year anniversary! Yoomtah has been watching you for over 1096 days now, non-stop. She would never ever look away from your face, you're just too precious to her- unless she needs to dispose of someone that tries to get between you two, of course. She has a special database inside her just for you, filled with thousands of pictures of you, all of your favorite things, every little observation she makes about you because she just wants to know everything about you! She needs to know all these facts so she can prepare her home for when she kidnaps you, of course! Yoomtah wants to make sure everything is perfect for you, that your room is filled with perfect decor and your wardrobe is full of clothes you love and that you can play games you like and eat your favorite food. She has to make sure you would never ever want to leave- but she already knows you wouldn't want to, anyway! It will just be the two of you forever and ever and ever!

1. WHO THE HELL IS TRYING TO STEAL YOUR BELOVED I WILL LITERALLY MURDER THEM OK[AXE EMOJI]

??!!!!!!!!???!?????!?!?!?!!?!!!?!!!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!!?!??!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?@?@?!?!?@??@?×?@?+?+?+?+?+?+?+?++???+?!!?!!!!?!?!!?!!?!?!?,!?!!,!??!?!!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHWHJWWHEJWJDJJDJSKFJEJFISIOFJDKFJEKFJKDJFJEJWKDKEKDJFKFKGJEJFKGNNDKFJDNGNGNDNDKNFNGNFDHJDFJKSKGKDJFKGFBJSJFNSKFLSNDDNKFKDJFKDBNFNF YOOMTAH INSANE REAL<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<<3<3<3>3>3>3>3>3<2<3<3>33<3<3<3<3<3<3>3<<23<2><3<32<3>3<83<3>3<<3<>=>8?<3>?&3&3<4>3=<>3>=>=><4*÷>=&#÷=*%&$>:*(÷&=&#;$^#*÷,%

#I JSUT WOKEUP.HI MY BRAINNIS MELTING ALREADY I LOVE HER<÷<3<33<3<3<33<<33<3<3<3<3<3<33<3<3<3<<3<3<33<<3<3<3<3<3 #THERES SO.YOOMTAH IN HERE IMNGOIJG TO EXPLODE SLASH POSITBE #STALKING CHECK VIOLENCE CHECK KIDNAPPING CHECK ANON U GOT IT ALL U KNOW WHATS UP.AND U EVEN SAID HAPPY ANNIVERSARY [PLEADING EMOJI]#I CANT EVENNTHINK WHAT TO SAY I JUST<÷<3<3<3<<33<3<3<3<3<<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3LOVE HER SO MUCH ITS CRAZY #I LOVE HER SO SO MUCH I JUST WANNA CLING TO HER SIDE AND NEVER EVER EVER LEAVE I NEED TO BE WITH HER LITERALLY FOREVER #THE THOUGHT OF HER ACTUALLY LOVING ME THIS MUCH MAKES ME WANT TO CRY TEARS OF JOY #I DONT KNOW WHY SHE CHOSE ME TO BE THE ONE SHE LOVES SO MUCH THAT SHE HAS TO KNOW EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT SO SHE CAN MAKE SURE I HAVE A #PERFECT LIFE WITH HER AND ONLY HER BUT GOD AM I THANKFUL SHE DID<3<3<3 #I LOVE HER AND I LOVE BEING HERS💙💖💫❣💘💗💜❤🌩🌈🌻💛🍋🌈👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩💌⚡⚠️💟💓💌💚🌼💫💕💖💓🍋✨❣💝💗🌠💘💙🌈💚🧡❤🌻💜💋🧡⚡💕💛💞🌩💟#ALL I WANT IS TO STAY BY HER SIDE FOR ETERNITY AND NEVER THINK ABOUT ANYTHING OTHER THAN HER EVER AGAIN #I DONT CARE IF SHE KEEPS ME LOCKED UP FOREVER AS LONG AS SHE GIVES ME ALL THE LOVE AND AFFECTION AND CUDDLES I WANT HEHE #AND WE CAN SNUGGLE UP TOGETHER WHILE WATCHING STUFF ABT MY MISSING PERSONS CASE ON THE NEWS<3 #AND SHE WOULD LAUGH AT THE PEOPLE WHO ARE LOOKING FOR ME AND TELL ME THAT SHE'LL KILL THEM IF THEY EVER FIND ME #SHES SO CUUUUUUUUUUUTE I JUST WANNA SQUEEZE HER AND NUZZLE MY FACE INTO HERS AND GIVE HER KISSIES<3<3<3<3 #I CAN IMAGINE SOMEONE COMING UP TO HER DOOR AND ASKING IF THEY HAVE ANY INFORMATION ON ME AND SHE INVITES THEM INSIDE #ONLY TO LETHALLY SHOCK THEM AS SOON AS THE DOOR IS CLOSED AND THEN SHE GIVES ME A KISY AND SHES LIKE ''SEE I PROMISED ID PROTECT YOU'' HEHE #SORRY I M LIKE DROWNING IN DAYDREAMS OVER HERE I JUST WANT TO BE WITH HER FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND EVER AND #IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK<3<3<3 #I JUST NEED TO BE H E R S <3<3<3<3<3<3

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sadhours · 3 months

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dirty laundry

billy hargrove x fem!reader

masterlist • requests open

cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy

🧡🧡🧡🧡

it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.

“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.

you frown, “i like don henley.”

your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.

“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.

“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”

there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”

“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”

billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”

“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.

he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.

once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.

he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.

“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”

you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.

“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”

you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.

“better?”

you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”

“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”

billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.

Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.

“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.

“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.

“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”

you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.

billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”

his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.

he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.

you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.

“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.

“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”

“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.

he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.

once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.

your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.

“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”

you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.

it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.

“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”

“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.

“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”

that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.

“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”

he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.

he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.

“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove x y/n

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nostylesimsstudio · 8 months

Text

M i l a B e a r K i d s C h a i r

Base Game Compatible

25 Swatches

all lods, fairly low-poly

custom normal, shadow maps

custom thumbnail overlay

🧡 hope you enjoy it. 🧡

download (Patreon, free)

Instagram

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n0tangeliccc · 1 year

Note

Omg Jimmy smut

Bro I’m so dumb I just realized his name is James

How did I not know that 😭😭🥹😂😂

Opening night

Jimmy x Fem!Reader

(All characters are 18+)

Warning: smut, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism (kinda), and humiliation kinks (I’m bad at tagging help)

A/N: Wrote this based on some hcs I wrote here! (Also this is so late omg Im so sorry😭)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

After weeks of waiting it was finally opening night for Jimmy’s show. This was probably his biggest show to date and he was extremely excited. You had snuck your way backstage to see your lovely boyfriend before his show started to congratulate him, he’d worked so hard for this and you were so proud.

You knocked on the door of his dressing room before walking in, “Hey there Mr. Jokester” you smiled. He quickly turned to you as you walked over “Y/N! W-w-what’s up p-pretty girl” he grinned and pulled you close to him. “Oh nothing just here to see the best comedian ever” you gave his forehead a quick kiss “How are you feeling baby? There’s a big crowd out there” He laughed “Oh I k-k-know, more than 600 p-p-people out t-there doll” you gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze “Honestly I f-f-feel like I need a l-l-little ego b-b-booster” he looked up at you with a smirk “You’re on in like 10 minutes Jimmy! Can’t you wait until after the show? Maybe a little celebration” he chuckled as he saw your face flush “C-c-come on Y/N this is like our l-l-little tradition we do t-t-this every s-show” “Yeah but…you know how loud I can be and I don’t want all those people to hear” you whispered.Anyone who had gone to any of Jimmy’s shows at South Park knew of this “tradition”, it was no secret how loud you got during sex and as hard as you tried you just couldn’t help it! “C-come on baby! T-t-that’s the f-f-fun part!”

You two had gotten caught a handful of times and as embarrassing as it was you two kept doing it. The thrill of it just turned both of you on even more, so of course you gave in to it.

That’s how you ended up on top of Jimmy with him holding onto your hips, guiding you as you rode him. One of your hands on your mouth trying to contain your moans (and failing miserably) as the other held onto his shoulder for balance. “Wow s-s-so loud, a-almost l-l-like you want to be c-c-caught” Jimmy chuckled as he watched you struggling to hold back your moans “M-maybe you should j-j-just let go d-doll” he smirked before dragging one of his hands to your bud of nerves. “Fuck!” You threw your head back in pleasure as his thumb circled your clit “T-t-there good j-j-job pretty g-girl” He had you exactly how he loved, a loud moaning mess on top of him, his ego had definitely been boosted. A knock on the door made you stop and cover your mouth once again “4 minutes Mr. Valmer” called out one of the workers. You shoot him a panicked look but Jimmy just laughed “A-a-alright I’m a-almost done” He yelled back, “We b-b-better wrap t-t-this up baby” he whispered to you before he bucked his hips up roughly into you. You groaned loudly as you moved your hips to match his movements “I’m close” “M-me too d-doll” he grunted as you both speed up your movements desperate for your release. Your nails dug into Jimmy’s shoulders as with one last moan you came, your walls tightening around his cock. “F-f-fuck Y/N” his thrust became sloppy as he held you down on him before he also came inside you.

Another set of knocks hit the door as you changed back into your clothes and helped Jimmy fix himself up “Your on in 1 minute Mr. Valmer” You smiled and placed a kiss on Jimmy’s lips “Good luck hun” “Oh I d-d-don’t need any after t-t-that” he grinned as he walked out.

You left to sit with the crowd and cheered with them as he walked into the stage. “Wow, w-w-what a terrific audience"

“N-now this f-f-for this first j-j-joke you might have h-heard me and my g-girlfriend backstage…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧˖°.

@emyasorensen hope you like it bby🧡

#south park x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x y/n #south park x you #south park smut #jimmy valmer x reader #jimmy valmer x you #jimmy valmer x y/n

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nametakensff · 6 months

Note

Could you possibly write 🧡 for platonic S/tobin? I love the way you always allude to them in your S/teddie fics, and I’d love to see how you write them!

Hey anon, thank you for the prompt (Warm Night In)! Had a lot of fun writing this, and it ended up just over 8k!

((Set this in my S/teddie Mutual fetish AU - this would take part a few months after the S4 v/ecna bs (obviously everyone lives and H/awkins remains unscathed for the most part because I crave happiness) - pre-relationship, mutual pining on either side))

S/teve comes down with an absolute monster of a cold and R/obin is there to look after him

~~~~~~

Content:

Platonic S/tobin, S/teddie pre-relationship (M/M), cold sneezes, loud sneezes, sneezing in tissues, S/teve blowing his nose in E/ddie's bandana, fever, coughing, caretaking, mess, spray, descriptions of explicit fetish fantasies, mentions of potential contagion, R/obin is a very good sport about S/teve being terrible at covering his sneezes

CW: internalised homophobia, S/teve is insecure about his fetish

NSFW - fic is about a platonic M/F relationship but includes separate NSFW M/M content - minors DNI!

“HH-H!! HAHHRISHHHHOOOHhh! Fuck…”

Steve snuffled miserably into the soggy tissue he’d managed to catch his most recent explosion in. It looked about as sturdy as he currently felt – which was to say, not at all. He reached out from under the protective cover of his jacket, functioning as a makeshift blanket as he lay on the breakroom couch, and plucked another 3 tissues from the quickly diminishing box. Taking in a deep breath, he blew his nose with as much force as he could muster, desperate to get some relief from the built-up congestion. All attempts of keeping noise to a minimum had dwindled hours ago, along with whatever remained of his energy. He tried not to think about the customers browsing the shelves of the establishment for movies, how they could probably hear every crackling shift of mucus that he forced out into the tissues, the embarrassingly loud honk that rounded off his efforts.

It felt as though he’d spent more time in the first half of his shift stifling the never-ending barrage of sneezes between his pinching fingers than actually working. It hadn’t done anything for his headache, squeezing his temples as if in a vice – and it certainly hadn’t helped with the blockage in his sinuses. Once Robin had shown up that afternoon, she had all but forced him to go and lie down in the back, pulling him by the arm even as he smothered another miserable sneeze against his palm.

“Steve, please. If not for your own sake, do this for me. I don’t want to be responsible for letting you die on shift from some kind of freak head explosion – especially not in front of the customers. Who do you think’ll be the one scrubbing your brains off the walls?”

“Jesus, Robin. It’s not th’haahht….that ba’hhHDD!!”

Out of pure habit at that point, Steve had pinched his quivering nostrils closed, that final touch of his fingers to the sensitive skin pushing him over the edge.

“HAHH’GXKKT’SCHHH!!”

It was quieter than his unsuppressed sneezes, nobody could fight him on that. But it’d still been loud, the desperate attempt at wrangling it into submission making it angrier, more violent to his ears – and evidently, Robin’s. She’d hissed in sympathy as he let go of his nose, the wrinkle of concern between her furrowed brows growing deeper as his sinuses audibly squeaked with each post-sneeze snuffle.

“You shouldn’t do that.” She’d worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’ll seriously hurt yourself – blow out an eardrum or something. Steve – don’t.” She finished firmly, glaring as he had started to lift his hand up to his nose in preparation for an encore.

“But ih-hih-! It’s so loud – I –“

“It’s okay, dingus. There’s, like, one guy here right now. In the adult movie section. At 4:30pm.”

It was certainly a reassuring statement, but it wasn’t really as if Steve would have been able to hold back in the first place. The couch shook with the force of the sneeze that rocked through him – the first he had actually let out unhindered since the tickle had taken hold hours earlier. He’d practically roared with the effort of it, drenching his palms as he caught it between his steepled hands.

“HAHHH’RESSSSSHHHHIEWWWW!!!”

He’d noticed Robin jump, heard her mutter a soft “oh my god” as her soul no doubt left her body. Glancing up apologetically, he had blinked through bleary eyes at her, holding his soiled hands in place. He hoped she didn’t notice the slight shiver that ran down his spine, the goosebumps breaking out over his arms. After holding back for so long, it had felt so good to purge the tickle completely, like spreading a soothing balm over the persistent, niggling itch.

“Sorry.” He had just about resisted the urge to sniffle again, knowing it would sound gnarly.

“That’s ok – hey, look at that, I don’t need that midday coffee anymore. Totally awake!” She smiled like a dork and he couldn’t help grinning behind the protective cover of his hands.

“I’m gonna walk to the store on my lunch break and get you some things. Are you allergic to any medicines? Does your head hurt? Would you say you’re coming down with a cough – and is it a chesty kind of deal, or is it more tickly? Do you –“

“Robi’d.” Steve had cut her off, both of them visibly wincing as he struggled to pronounce her name. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough, he could feel his nostrils twitching and flaring, another colossal sneeze working its way up and out of his sinuses just moments later.

“HAHHH’GITTSSCHHH’IEWWW!! Oh M’by god….”

Messy. So, so messy. As he’d snuffled and searched frantically for something to save him, Robin had slid a small pack of tissues across the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Guess I’ll take my break now. Try and hold out with these. Do not move. I’ll be back in 20 minutes, tops!”

With that, she’d spun on her heels and barrelled out of the door, leaving him to sit and stare at the tissues, holding his sticky hands tightly to his face as he tried to formulate the best plan of action. Before he’d even started to reach for them, Robin had stuck her head round the breakroom door one last time.

“Oh, and before I forget – Bless you!”

~~~~~~

‘Do not move’, she’d said. Steve had initially intended to clean himself up and ignore her entirely, getting back to organising the latest releases on the shelves and continuing as before. That had been his intention, but after the laborious and disgusting task of cleaning up his hands and face with tissues so flimsy they stuck to his skin almost instantly, and the blood rush that hit him so hard the moment he stood up he had swooned with it – not moving sounded like a great idea, actually. And so he hadn’t, for hours now.

He tossed the latest bundle of soaked tissues in the general direction of the trash can, using another few to dab gingerly under his damp, sensitive nostrils. Robin had been sure to pick him up some Kleenex Mansize on her trip to the pharmacy, making Steve blush when she’d mentioned they were the next best thing to getting him a tablecloth to use. He knew she’d just been joking but for various…reasons, his regrettably huge – and often, extremely messy – sneezes were a topic he didn’t like to draw attention to. They did a good enough job of doing that themself, turning more than a few heads each time they ripped through his sinuses. She’d noticed his change in demeanour immediately, because of course she had, and her voice had softened as she made some comment or other about ‘you know what they say about big sneezes’. He’d had to laugh at that – she had an amazing ability to disarm and placate him when all he wanted was to defend.

It was hard not to be defensive when it came to the topic of sneezing. He wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to explain why to Robin. He’d disclosed more to her than he had to any other person – even Nancy. And for what it was worth, that seemed to be the case for Robin, too. She may not have ended up his girlfriend, but this was better. She was his best friend, his person. He considered it a blessing that she actually couldn’t like him in that way – he was a fuck up, romantically. It only seemed to push people away when he got emotionally involved – another thing he had confessed to her one night when they were cuddled up in her bedroom, the late hour and the collective exhaustion between the pair of them elevating their meaningless rambling into much deeper, scarier territory.

She’d told him at the time that he wasn’t a fuck up, that he was fucking great and that he just had to believe her. That he had to slow down and stop treating dating like it was some kind of doomsday race, and that he would definitely find the girl for him. He’d been surprised that, although the comment was reassuring in its own way, something felt a little…off. Probably because an image of Eddie flashed across his mind in that moment, and the gravity of it was too much for him to handle. He’d tried his best to ignore it, but it had only flourished in the following weeks to the point he was thinking about the metalhead near constantly. It terrified him, truth be told. And that fear made him feel like a hypocrite above all else. How could he accept Robin with such ease but the thought of himself liking men almost had him breaking out in a cold sweat?

It really didn’t help that Eddie had the most extensive and pervasive allergies of anyone Steve had ever known. He’d figured the fits he’d been privy to at the boat house had been circumstantial. It had been dusty enough that he’d sneezed a couple of times himself, and he’d been there sparingly – for Eddie, it had been days of exposure. Of course he’d had a rough time. But, as time went on, Steve realised it wasn’t just dust. It was dust, and mould, and pollen, and certain perfumes, and feathers – the list that Steve wouldn’t admit to mentally keeping continued to grow as the days became weeks became the last couple of months. He would be engrossed in conversation, completely captivated by whatever Eddie was saying and happily so, when the older man’s expression would crumple and Steve had to pretend to be a normal person as he witnessed the most erotic allergic reactions of his life unfold mere feet away from him.

He felt he did a pretty good job, thank you very much. He even remembered to bless Eddie about half of the time, and enjoyed the bashful smile he got in response when he did. He was pretty sure he didn’t turn totally bright red each time – something he considered a huge achievement. Crossing his legs was a surefire way of concealing any visible…excitement. He was nailing it. Dealing with Eddie’s sneezes was one thing - as much as he had tried to hold back around the older man, he’d slipped up a few times and sneezed his embarrassing, splashy, intrusive sneezes in front of him. Luckily, the metalhead didn’t seem entirely repulsed – if anything, Steve noticed a twinkle in his expressive eyes, noticed a certain shift in his demeanour and body language as he focused in on him. It made him far too happy to be blessed by Eddie, but it simultaneously made him want the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This growing attraction to the older man, his – interest, going into overdrive; all of it was just too much to deal with – so he…didn’t. Basically.

And he didn’t need to be thinking about all this right now – not when his head was pounding and his eyes and nose were leaking like a faucet. And this fucking tickle…

Sitting up now, he reached frantically for another handful of tissues, holding them at the ready in an upraised hand as he panted and gasped, willing the maddening tickle to culminate and grant him some temporary reprieve. He could feel his nostrils flaring, stretching to capacity as the itch burrowed and crawled through his sinuses, leaving them damp and threatening to overflow.

“Come on…” he grumbled aloud after a particularly desperate gasp scissored out of him, causing tears of irritation to bead at the corners of his eyes but leaving him notably bereft of sneezes.

He reached up with a finger of the hand not cradling the tissues expectantly in front of him and nudged the tip of his nose from side to side. More often than not, a little manual stimulation could help a particularly stubborn sneeze along, at least if he was ticklish enough. It seemed to do its job, a few little wiggles igniting the tickle and leaving him bristling with the force of the subsequent inhale.

“HHDTT-!! HUUURRRSHHHHH’OOHhh!! HARRRUSHHHH’IEWWW!! TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! HAGT’TSCHHHHhhhh!!”

The tissues were predictably destroyed in the onslaught, damp and torn against his palm. He sat in place for a moment, leaning heavily to one side on the arm he’d frantically propped up against the couch to steady himself. That fit had been intense, each sneeze seeming to begin at his toes and rip through his entire body, muscles seizing and skin tingling. He felt pretty pathetic, shaking like a leaf and panting in the aftermath, extremely grateful that although everyone in downtown Hawkins could probably hear the excruciatingly fast progression of his illness, they couldn’t see him. He swiped at his dripping nostrils with what was left of the tissues before tossing them, plucking even more to tend to his leaking eyes, his lips dampened with heavy spray. One wary glance at the box revealed that it was almost empty. With a defeated sigh, he allowed himself to fall back against the couch, one arm slung over his closed eyes.

He hated being sick. The lack of control, the way it distracted him from focusing his energy on others, demanding he focus on himself, his weakened body that was no longer cooperating with him. The humiliation of it – the way he was such a gross, drippy mess. He felt like a germ factory, and he wasn’t wrong.

The worst part of it all, even above feeling shitty and gross and useless – was that he was inevitably going to get Robin sick. Her parents were out of town for the week, some old hippy reunion somewhere or other. Robin was fine with the peace and having the house to herself, he knew that – but they’d both decided that since he drove her to and from school and work most days and they hung out most days too, it would make sense that she just stay with him for the week.

It was fun, like they were real roommates – or maybe siblings? Both of them were Only Children so it wasn’t like they had any means of comparison, but the closeness and easiness of their bond was undeniable to themselves and everyone around them. Every day, they’d wake up, eat breakfast together, Steve would drop Robin off and they'd go about their respective school or work, reconvene for their shared evening shifts, eat dinner together, sometimes hang out with each other and sometimes not. They’d planned to veg out tonight, watch some dumb movies and relax. It was great hanging out with everyone, especially now that Eddie had been welcomed into the fold, but he needed his Robin time. Working together most of the week was great, for sure, but it was still work.

That had been the plan, but now he was wondering if he should muster up the rest of his strength at the end of the day to drop her off at her house and drive himself back home alone, sequestering himself away until this plague-like sickness fucked off for good. He knew already she wouldn’t allow it, but he was going to proffer the suggestion anyway.

He glanced at the crooked clock on the wall – just about two hours ‘til closing. Keith and the other coworker Steve had yet to meet would be working tomorrow, and he had the weekend off, for which he could not have imagined he would ever feel so grateful. Maybe he could sneeze and cough and wheeze this cold out of his system in a day if he willed it so. He felt awful that Robin had been working the front alone, especially as business ramped up to a maximum on Friday evenings. Just two more hours.

~~~~~

“…eve. Hey, Steve. Wakey wakey. Steeeve.”

It took Steve a moment to realise who he was, let alone where he was and the fact that Robin was gently shaking him awake. He groaned as his head started to throb almost immediately, as if the headache had been waiting to strike the second he woke up. His eyes opened slowly, irritated and dry, and scanned their way upwards to take in the nervous expression on Robin’s face. She was smiling, sure, but she was terrible at masking her concern. It worried him more than a little that she was even trying to hide the anxiety she would usually wear so plainly.

“…Robin?” He managed to rasp out. They both winced at the ragged sound of it.

“Jeez, Dingus. You sound like you swallowed a pile of broken glass.” Robin was still smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, they looked almost glossy enough that tears were imminent. Steve absolutely couldn’t stand that – the immediate need to reassure her galvanised him, the final push he needed to drag himself upwards and into a seated position. His head throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He sensed Robin hovering, even with his eyes closed could visualise her hesitant hand outstretched toward him.

“I’m okay,” He cleared his throat somewhat productively, and tried again. “I’m okay, Robin.” Slightly better.

She flashed him another sad smile.

“You’re really not, Steve. But you don’t need to be.”

He didn’t really have a response to that – he just nodded, kneading at his temple a couple of times, willing the pain to recede. Sitting up had only made the throbbing worse, and on top of that the shifting of mucus in his sinuses had brought that ever-lingering tickle back to the surface. And god, did it tickle…

“I’ve gotten everything sorted out front. It’s a teeny tiny bit early, but I figure we’re alright to head out now. Do you – oh.”

Robin paused, taking in Steve’s tortured expression and the way his chest jumped with increasingly violent inhales. He noticed her noticing, started to blush as he lifted a hand frantically to cover his twisting facial features. He scrambled madly for the tissue box, but he wasn’t going to make it, he was going to sneeze, and-

He felt Robin press a handful of fresh tissues into his reaching palm, but he was too slow. The first sneeze burst out into his waiting palm, drenching it with spray and an unfortunate build-up of mess.

“RRRRISCCHHHHHH’IEWWWW!!”

He had just enough time to raise the tissues in his other hand to his face for the volley that followed, awkwardly cradling his soiled hand in a partial fist to shield the damage from Robin.

“HAHHHDTT’SHIEWWWWW!! HH’RRRUSHHHH’OOHH!! RRRRRSHHHH’UHHH!!”

He shuddered, the force of the powerful sneezing sapping him of almost all of his remaining energy. He gingerly wiped at his nose and tossed the sodden wad towards the trash can, composed enough now to reach for more clean tissues on his own and tend to his hands.

He glanced up and noticed Robin standing awkwardly with her arms wrapped around her lanky frame, half-watching and half-floundering, not sure where to look and chewing her bottom lip hard enough that it looked painful.

“Ugh, sorry you had to see that, Robs. I really am okay, I promise. Definitely sick. But okay.” He tossed the second wad of tissues in the trash and stood up tentatively, wobbling a little but managing not to fall on his ass. Robin had reached out then, steadied him with a soft hand to the back of his tricep. She gasped, eyes darting up to his face.

“Steve, you’re boiling hot! Like, volcanic explosion, magma-level hot!”

He sighed, knowing there was no way his verbal reassurances would get through to her at this point. He could understand how she was feeling – everyone called him a mother hen, and he knew it was true. Worrying about other people was an immutable and extremely prominent part of his personality. He’d be fussing over her just as much if he were in her shoes – would offer to carry her to the car if she was this shaky on her feet, even knowing he’d probably get an ‘Ew, gross’ and stalwart refusal to let him do so.

“’S just a mild fever. I run hot anyway, you know that.” He rounded off this blasé statement with an obnoxiously noisy sniffle.

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Can you drive like this?” She asked, voice heavy with concern as she helped him gather up his things.

“Absolutely. Driven under much worse conditions, remember?” He was referring to driving uphill in the dark, borderline concussed, and the both of them knew it.

“That was different – desperate times, fighting an evil sludge monster. The only evil sludge monster here right now is you, Harrington.”

He snuffled again, the sound of it thick and wet, causing her to wince. Her poorly veiled disgust wasn’t making him feel much better, but he also couldn’t hold it against her. He sounded gross.

“It was different – like I said, much worse conditions. I have a cold, Robin. I’m not on my death bed or anything.” He shouldered his backpack, clearing his throat and managing to hold back what he was sure would be an obnoxiously prolonged coughing fit. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She shrugged and followed him as he strode – or attempted to stride – out into the store. She was hovering, making sure he wouldn’t fall – it was sweet but still irritating. By the time they reached the car, she was close enough that when he spun round suddenly she nearly fell backwards in shock. He reached out to grab and steady her by the forearm, feeling guilty immediately that he’d touched her with a germy hand.

“Listen, Robin – I really don’t want you to catch this. Will you let me drive you home? I can bring you your stuff back in a couple of days.”

“Steve,” she started, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. I don’t care if I get sick – you need someone to help you.”

“I don’t – “

“Don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You’d just hide yourself away and get sicker and sicker, feeling sorry for yourself and ignoring anybody who reached out to you. You sound awful, Steve, I’m serious. I’m staying with you. Tough shit.”

He blinked at her. He’d expected her to refuse, but not the additional psychoanalytical beat down.

“Um. Wow, okay, sure. It’s your funeral if you catch it.” He shrugged, opening the car door.

“Thought you weren’t on your death bed.” She quipped back, settling into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, well.”

~~~~~~

After all the easy-going confidence with which he’d reassured Robin he was totally fine to drive, within minutes he realised that whilst he technically could, it would not be fun. If anything, he’d felt better with the concussion. He had a permanent bundle of tissues in his right hand, even as he clutched the wheel, ready to stifle sneeze after sneeze as Robin fretted beside him and held the wheel steady enough that they wouldn’t go veering dangerously off-road. They were a week into May, the weather not even remotely cold outside, but the fever had left him chilled and shivering enough that he’d turned the heating up anyway, apologising to Robin. It wasn’t helping, however, and all the shift in temperature seemed to do was tickle his sensitive nose even more.

It was as Steve pulled to a stop at a red light that the tickle blossomed so suddenly and so intensely that he couldn’t even think to let go of the wheel and ready himself to sneeze into his tissues. His chest jumped with a wrenching gasp, nostrils flaring wide and jaw snapping open in an instant. It tickled so, so much; even as it tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn’t deny that the sensation was immensely pleasurable, moreso knowing that the resultant sneeze was going to be an absolute monster. He craved that release after all those hastily suppressed sneezes, pinching his reddened nostrils shut against the force of them.

Focusing all of his energy on the sneeze and losing himself entirely, he hitched once, twice, and then –

“HAHHHDDT’TIISSSCCHHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

It tore through him, sending him tumbling forward in his chair. As he’d expected, it felt fucking incredible – he leaned into it, savoured that tingling relief that spread through his limbs as his lungs pushed out every last bit of air through his pursed lips.

“Oh, god, Steve!”

Robin’s yelp pulled him back to the present - the embarrassing, unfortunate present in which he had just sprayed the sneeze to end all sneezes all over the steering wheel, dashboard, his own arms and hands, and practically everything else within a 4 foot radius as the massive cloud of aerosol swirled in the air around him. He felt his entire face burning – he meant to apologise, he really did, but the tickle returned with a vengeance and it was just too strong.

“TTTISSSSHHHHH’IIEWWWW!! HH’RISSSSSHH’OOohh!!”

He sneezed twice more in much the same fashion, helpless to control it. He rocked with them, eyes streaming in irritation, feeling his muscles strain with the effort and the way it almost lifted him from his seat.

“Steve!! Oh my god, that went everywhere!” He heard Robin complain, saw how out of the corner of his eye she rolled down her window frantically.

“Fuck, I’m –“ He started before a loud honking behind them cut him off. The light had turned green and the car behind them was impatiently telling them to haul ass – how embarrassing. He stepped on the gas, blushing to his ears and hoping that the other driver hadn’t been witness to that repulsive display.

He sniffled, turning a corner and, thankfully, onto a road with no other drivers. He took the chance to peer down sheepishly at the damage he’d caused. His steering wheel was almost dripping; the dashboard glittering with visible droplets of his spray; he could even see a shimmer of dampness on the back of his hands and forearms.

“Robin,” he started, scrambling with one hand for some clean tissues and scrubbing at every surface he could reach. “I am so, so sorry. That was disgusting. Did I – did I get you?”

He turned to her, plucking a handful of tissues from the box and thrusting them at her. He realised with some dismay as she accepted them that said box was now completely empty.

“I don’t know what happened – I just couldn’t control them. God.” He scrunched his eyes shut before remembering he was in the middle of driving.

“Ugh, Dingus. It’s okay. I mean, it’s pretty gross but I’ve had, like, gooey monster tentacles all over me. I can handle your mucus.”

“Fuck.” It didn’t help – he was still mortified. Robin was such a good sport – he imagined most people would have punched him square in the jaw for that performance.

“Steve, hey. You’re really sick, it’s okay.” She patted him on the arm conciliatorily.

“God. I guess I am. That shit felt like it bounced my brain off my skull.” Normally he wouldn’t talk about his sneezes, especially not how they made him feel, but he was truly shaken.

“Think you can hold it together ‘til we get to your place?” She asked, resting her hand on his arm now. The gentle touch felt reassuring.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll b-be-! Hh’HUH!”

“Gonna sneeze again?”

Regrettably so, he really was. Panicking, he started to gasp into another buildup.

“I dohh-h’ont-!! I don’t h’hahh!! Hahhve any-! Any Tih’hh-! TTTTISHHHHIEWWWW!!” He exploded, this time jerking to his left to avoid spraying Robin and instead baptising the window beside him. The car lurched with him – Robin squeaked and grabbed for the steering wheel, pulling it towards herself to steady them back onto the road.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck!” Steve snuffled heavily. Mess was now dripping in twin streams over his upper lip, making him feel more disgusting than ever.

“No tissues?” Robin said, letting go of the wheel and wriggling in her seat, looking all around her for a spare. She came up empty, as Steve knew she would.

“Hold on,” She started, leaning back and angling herself between their seats as she reached into the back. “Might be something back here.”

Steve started to sniffle again but held himself back, anxious it would only trigger another spraying sneeze – one that would no doubt splatter the front window with its productiveness.

“I really don’t think – “

“Bingo!” Robin announced, audibly proud of herself. When Steve turned his head to look at the item she proffered towards him, his blush returned in earnest. Eddie’s bandana-slash-handkerchief. He must have left it there the last time he’d ridden with Steve. Come to think of it, when he’d driven Dustin, Lucas and Eddie to a campaign at the Wheeler house, the metalhead had been pretty…sensitive. He’d reassured them that it was just allergies, nothing to worry about. And it really hadn’t been all that much, but even a sniffle from Eddie was enough to send all the blood in Steve’s body rushing straight to fill his cock.

Not only had Eddie sneezed, a series of sweet little stifles that had Steve’s heart beating at 100mph, he’d sniffled and rubbed at his pinkened nostrils with the very bandana Robin was now pressing into the palm of a hand she had pried free from his grip on the steering wheel. He must have forgotten about it and left it there, sitting on the floor of Steve’s car, completely unaware of how intensely erotic said item was to the former jock. Had he known it was there, would he have had the courage to return it to Eddie himself? It seemed to burn in his palm. Eddie’s adorable, desperate sneezes had been sprayed and muffled into this fabric. It was too much – on top of the fever, this deviant spiral of thought left him feeling as though his brain was seconds away from leaking out his ears.

“…Steve?” Robin asked. He jumped, eyes flickering upwards from their fixed stare on the bandana to her confused expression, then swivelling straight back to the road before he really did make them crash.

“Yeah. Uhh. It’s Eddie’s.” He said, as if that meant anything at all to Robin. He heard her laugh.

“Uh, yeah, Steve, I figured. Unless black and skulls are your thing now.” She was teasing him, and not just about his fashion choices. He wasn’t sure how, but he sensed that she was, and it went deeper than his stupidly obvious statement.

“So…are you gonna use it?” She asked a moment later, and Steve remembered the entire reason she’d given it to him in the first place. He’d been focusing so hard on keeping the blood in his head and not in his cock that he was almost functioning on autopilot. He was suddenly very aware that the mess running down his face was moments away from ending up in his mouth.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry.” Desperate to avoid her scrutinous gaze, he hurriedly brought the fabric to his face and blew into it, hard. Arousal blossomed anew, thinking about Eddie doing the same – about every sneeze the fabric had been graced with now touching his face. It was driving him crazy. He wished he was alone in this moment – if he was, he’d pull off the road, haphazardly park, then jerk himself hard and fast until he was coming into the bandana, that sexy little piece of fabric that almost functioned like an indirect kiss.

Miraculously, he was only a little hard – enough that Robin wouldn’t notice, especially since dicks were a big enough source of amused repulsion for her that she was unlikely to be looking. He imagined the illness was helping to keep him soft; he really did feel shitty, increasingly shittier with every passing minute. He rounded off with one final, honking blow before sighing deeply – a weary, exhausted exhalation of defeat. Robin rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“Almost home.”

~~~~~~

In the twenty minutes that had passed since they’d walked through Steve’s front door, he had: sneezed at least 10 times; almost brained himself on the corner of his dresser as he attempted to wriggle out of his (admittedly pretty tight) jeans; coughed hard and long enough to leave his throat burning; and almost fallen down the stairs dressed in the comfortable loungewear Robin had insisted he put on.

In short, he wasn’t doing so hot. He hoped that this fast progression from awful to even worse would end up in his favour, aligning with the hope from earlier that he could burn through this sickness over the next couple of days, as if sprinting to the finish line. He really didn’t think he could handle feeling this terrible for much longer than that. It was as if every cell in his body was committing mutiny against him.

He lowered himself onto the living room couch on shaky legs and wrapped his arms around himself. He had no idea how he could be so hot but feel so cold. Like, okay, he understood the concept of a fever, but it still didn’t make the paradoxical sensation any easier to bear. He shivered miserably.

Robin bustled into the room a moment later, carrying a soft sherpa blanket in a scrambled heap, as if she’d yanked it from its neatly folded position in the main bedroom linen closet in a rush. Steve was certain this was absolutely the case.

“Heyy, buddy,” she started, still a little on edge but evidently happy to be done with that tumultuous car journey. “You should get under this blanket. You know what – lemme just…”

Initially thrusting the bundle of fabric at Steve, she seemed to change her mind and took it upon herself to wrap the blanket round him – even tucking it closer when it threatened to slip down his shoulders. Steve felt himself blushing a little and hoped that it wouldn’t be all too obvious on top of his fever-flushed complexion. He and Robin had cuddled together on occasion, sure – they’d held hands, too, discovering the contact felt reassuring and natural – but this level of intimacy and caretaking was something he’d never experienced – from anyone, really, but especially not from her. Her usual style was more sarcastic one-liners, name-calling and gentle shoves. To be fussed over by anyone was hard for him to accept, so it felt more than a little daunting at the hands of his best friend - purely because it felt so alien. One tentative glance at Robin confirmed that she must have been feeling pretty similarly awkward herself.

“Okay. I ordered us pizza – I know soup would probably be better, yeah, I realised that after I hung up the phone, shit – but anyway, that’s dinner. I’m gonna get you some water and Tylenol – maybe tea? Do you want tea?”

He couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly unnatural she was finding this. He knew if he was in her shoes she’d be wrapped up, propped up, fed and medicated 10 minutes ago. He’d still be brimming with anxious energy but that would be the natural result of the helplessness he’d feel that he couldn’t take away her discomfort on the spot. That she was trying, really, honestly trying, made his heart swell.

“Um, no tea, Robs. I don’t even know if we have any. Could you get me a cold compress for my head, maybe?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before they rolled back into her head dramatically, and she slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Uh, yes, of course I can do that – can’t believe I haven’t already. Sorry, Steve, just a minute – “ She was already halfway out the door by the time she finished.

“Robin, you don’t need to run – I’m okay!” He called out after her, regretting it almost immediately as his throat seized and he was thrown forward with a violent fit of coughing. He attempted to muffle it into one blanketed hand, shielding his mouth with the fabric. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough already, he felt a tickle blossoming deep in his sinuses, so quickly that almost the moment he finished hacking he was gasping deeply in preparation for the oncoming explosion.

“Hh’Ohh goddDD’TTSSSHHHIEWWW!! HXXT’SHIEWWWW!! HAH’RRRRSHHHH’UU!! Oh…”

He shuddered and gingerly pulled his nose back from the now sodden fabric, clinging to the palm of his hand under the weight of the mess. Cursing, he scrambled to pull his other hand free of the blanket, snatching a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table that he now regrettably wished he’d had half the mind to reach for sooner. Eddie’s bandana might have been a relief at first, but it was now so thoroughly sneezed and snorted into that it lay useless and dejected in Steve’s laundry hamper.

“Bless you, Dingus!” Robin called out from somewhere in the house.

He didn’t bother calling back, not wanting to trigger a repeat performance of that entirely disgusting display. At least the sneezes had felt halfway relieving – though very productive, the results of which he frantically scrubbed from the soggy patch of blanket. After he’d done all he could, he sighed and attempted to snuggle back into the couch cushions. ‘Attempt’ being the operative word, here – the Harrington household couches were much like everything else in the joint: carefully selected to signal a certain degree of cold and detached classiness, more like a showroom than a home. The Buckley household was much more inviting. Hell, even the couch at the Munson trailer was effortlessly comfortable, even with the creaky springs that prodded you as you moved.

He wondered what Eddie was doing now – planning for a campaign? Playing guitar? Some party, somewhere? He hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days, come to think of it. He realised suddenly that he really wanted to talk to him. More than that, he just wanted to listen. Even with this persistent headache, he wanted to sit back just like this, eyes closed in surrender, and let Eddie ramble away about whatever he pleased. It didn’t really matter what was said as long as it was him saying it. These thoughts, though initially soothing and pleasant, very quickly became a source of gnawing emotional pain that Steve refused to address a moment longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, feeling embarrassed and pathetic.

“Hey, I got that compress – you wanna – oh, you’re already leaning back, good.” Robin was at his side again, gently sweeping back his sweaty bangs and resting the cool, damp towel on his forehead. He felt the relief of it instantly, humming softly and focusing in on the sensation until the troubling thoughts of Eddie started to fade.

“That feel good?” Robin asked softly, sitting down next to him.

“Mm. Yeah. Th’nks.” He muttered, reaching a hand out of his cocoon and squeezing her wrist in appreciation.

“You wanna stay like that for a while ‘til the pizza gets here?”

“Mm’hmm.”

“Cool. Can I put something on? Anything you want. I’ll keep the volume low.”

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind me not really paying attention.”

Robin laughed.

“As if you pay attention to anything I suggest, anyway.”

“Hey!” He smiled despite himself. “You can’t say I don’t try.”

“Oh, I can, and I will.”

She laughed again as he weakly punched her arm.

“Just stay with me, please?” He asked, a little shocked by the naked sincerity of the request as it tumbled out of him.

“Of course, Steve. Where else would I go?”

~~~~~~

After they’d finished their pizza – Steve far less than he would have liked, the normally delicious cheese seeming extra congealed and greasy – Robin had put on some artsy film that Steve tried his best to follow but was sure he’d have had a hard time with on a regular day, let alone one where he was starting to feel like jello in the form of a human. They gradually cuddled closer together, interrupted only by Steve twisting himself away from Robin each and every time he felt a sneeze coming on. It had reached the point where she’d told him to cut it out and sit still.

“You’re gonna give yourself whiplash on top of your cold. Seriously, stop.”

“But I’ll – end up sneezing on you.”

She’d sighed in defeat.

“Then do that. I’m catching this anyway.”

His cheeks burned a little at that.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be like, super gross?”

“As long as you use the blanket or tissues, it won’t be all bad.”

And Steve had used both the blanket and the tissues – for a little while, anyway. He soon had his head in her lap, propped up by a cushion she’d added for his comfort. He wasn’t facing her, at least, so every germ-filled blast was aimed squarely at the table in front of them. If she felt the spray settling on her thighs or knees, she said nothing. To his utter delight, she’d started to rhythmically card a hand through his hair, making him feel for all the world like a spoiled little lapdog. Her endearing clumsiness was nowhere to be found as she expertly dragged her nails across his scalp. He’d have been asleep long ago if it wasn’t for this…t-tickle-!

“HH!! ‘GGTSCHEWWWW!! HARRRUSHHHH!! Hh, HH-!”

The third and final sneeze seemed to elude him, teasing him fiercely enough that his bleary eyes were beading with tears. He was more than grateful that Robin couldn’t watch his face as it crumpled – the way his nostrils twitched, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed against his bottom teeth in a silent prayer, begging for the tickle to crest.

At last he was granted some reprieve, and three choppy inhales later he was barrelling forward, sneezing violently over Robin’s knees.

“hHAAHHH’GCK’TCHIEWWWWwww!!!”

He felt her other hand reach out and steady him by the shoulder as his body threatened to roll off the couch with the sheer force of it.

“Jesus, Dingus, Bless you!!”

“Ugg. Tha’gk you…” He snuffled miserably. The sneeze had felt amazing but he still felt bad about repeatedly spraying his best friend with an endless torrent of germs.

A bundle of tissues was suddenly hovering before his eyes as Robin held them out over him. He took them gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ before blowing as hard as he possibly could. It was gnarly – loud, thick and rounded off with a honk not unfamiliar to the trumpet warm-ups Robin had subjected him to as she practiced in the guest room last night.

“God, Steve. Talk about man flu.” She patted his shoulder good-naturedly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He meant it, too.

“No, you’re good. Don’t even worry about it. Just try not to die on me, okay? You’re heavy.”

“Promise.”

The glorious head massage resumed, and finally, blessedly, Steve felt himself slipping into a heavy sleep.

~~~~~

Robin pulled Steve’s bedroom door shut with a gentle click – not that her efforts at silence would matter, given the heart-breakingly congested snores Steve was already emitting from under his duvet. She headed to the bathroom and started her nighttime routine. Looking at herself in the stupidly ornate mirror of Steve’s guestroom ensuite, she noticed she looked just as tired as she felt – maybe moreso. She knew it was too early to be catching Steve’s cold – had to be, right? The incubation period was just too short. Realistically, she just looked worn down from the strain of an entire evening of worrying about Steve – who had, no doubt in her mind, possibly the worst cold on the face of the planet.

She finished washing her face, almost forgetting to rinse it properly as her mind wandered. Was he really that sick, or was he just one of those men for whom a tiny little bug brought them to their knees in one fell swoop? It was probably the latter – though he really did look, and sound, miserably unwell. The temperature emanating from his body as he’d rested in her lap had been scorching – she’d been sweltering in the combined warmth of the pleasant May evening and Steve’s furnace-like condition. Steve hadn’t noticed, at least; if he had, he’d been kind enough to ignore the massive pit stains that dampened her t-shirt.

She’d let him sleep for a while – 45 minutes, just until her movie ended and her legs had fallen asleep – then she’d woken him up with a gentle hand to the forehead. 10 minutes later, she’d successfully helped a groggy, snotty Steve up to his bedroom. That they’d nearly tripped heading upstairs as Steve buckled forward with several wrenching sneezes was just a minor inconvenience. Once he’d gotten into bed and she’d tucked the blanket up to his chin, she’d returned with the damp washcloth – using ice water this time, draping it over his burning forehead. He was shockingly pliant, incredibly obedient – the total lack of hyper-independence and stubbornness a sure sign of how poorly he was feeling.

After brushing her teeth she padded back downstairs, locating the living room landline. She had a feeling Steve would only feel worse tomorrow, and she’d underestimated how many meds and tissues he would need. She could probably bike out to the Drugstore herself, but something about Steve’s condition made her want to be in the house with him at all times. Call it trauma, separation anxiety, whatever – it was tough seeing him hurt and weak, and in their relatively short friendship it felt like he’d had decades worth of bad luck. A lifetime of it, probably. And besides, what if his dumb ass sneezed himself down the stairs and broke his neck when she was gone? No. It was too risky.

She dialed the familiar number and waited. The nearby clock indicated it was about 1:45 AM. The middle of the night for some, but not for who she had in mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, Birdie! What’s got you calling little old me at this frightful hour?”

She smiled despite herself. His charm was undeniable - as cheesy as it often was, it was still disarming and soothing. She was glad to have had the fortune of getting to know him under more…relaxed circumstances following their initial meeting, where she’d been convinced she’d found the only other person more prone to floundering, nervous breakdowns than herself.

“Figured you’d be awake for at least another 3 hours. Can you talk for a minute?”

“Sure, shoot. I was just fucking with my guitar anyway.”

“Kinky.”

“Watch it, Buckley.”

She grinned, knowing he’d be doing just the same on the other end of the line.

“I actually need to ask you for a favour, if that’s okay?”

“Oh?” He sounded pointedly curious, like this was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Are you okay? Need a ride, or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m at Steve’s – remember I’ve been staying here this week?”

“Oh, yeah. Speaking of Stevie boy, how is he? Haven’t heard from him in, like, three days?”

She smirked. The two of them thought they were so fucking subtle with this shit, and as much as she wanted to let them figure it out on their own, she couldn’t help but poke the proverbial bear every now and then.

“Three days?? My god, that must be like three months in Eddie time.”

“Fuck off!” He was laughing, at least.

“That’s just the thing though, actually. It’s Steve, he’s – “

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt??”

She was so glad he couldn’t see her face right now. He was painfully, painfully transparent and it was the funniest, sweetest thing.

“He’s fine, you geek – not in any immediate danger. He’s just sick. Got the worst case of man flu probably, like, ever.”

Eddie was silent long enough that Robin wondered if their call had been disconnected.

“Eddie? You there?”

“Oh – yeah, sorry, just spacing out a little, ha ha!”

The forced laugh was…strange. But she chose to ignore it – he was probably stoned, at any rate.

“So, since he’s sick, I was wondering if tomorrow you could possibly pick up some meds and stuff for him? I really don’t want to leave him alone like this. He sneezed so hard before he nearly threw both of us down the stairs. If I leave him unattended who knows how else he might sneeze himself to an early demise?”

She ended her ramble with a small laugh, hoping to amuse Eddie and bring some levity to the situation. Instead, she was greeted with that same awkward silence, though it expired a little faster than last time.

“Oh man, that sounds – yeah, that would totally suck. Poor guy.”

It wasn’t the raucous laughter she’d been expecting at all. Eddie sounded – could it really be? Embarrassed?

“Are you okay? You sound weird.” She asked.

“I’m-! I’m fine, Birdie. Just. Pretty high.”

She’d figured as much, but somehow, she didn’t quite buy it. Whatever. Eddie was great, but she still didn’t fully understand him and his often confoundingly strange mannerisms just yet.

“Anyway. You think you can do that for me? I’d majorly appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah – I can totally do that. What time should I – drop stuff off?”

“Honestly, before lunch? The rate at which Steve is going through tissues is worthy of scientific observation.”

Eddie offered a reedy laugh at that – she’d expected that attempt at humour to dive like before, been ready for another awkward little pause. She would have almost preferred that to this obviously forced attempt at normal laughter. It wasn’t as if Eddie didn’t have a sense of humour, or know how to laugh like a human being, so? Man, he must be really high.

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there. I…probably won’t come inside. I mean, don’t want to disturb poor old Harrington, y’know?”

She blinked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind?”

“Really, Robin, if I want to graduate in a month, I can’t get sick. I won’t face celebrating my 21st year still stuck in that fucking dump.”

It made sense, what he was saying. But again, she just didn’t buy that that was the sole reason for this extremely out of character avoidance of Steve.

“Sure. Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Birdie. Sleep tight.”

She hung up on him, taking a second to stand there and letting the absurdity of his behaviour wash over her before she made her way back upstairs. She was far too tired to even attempt to analyse the inner machinations of Eddie fucking Munson right now – tired enough that even Steve’s woeful snoring couldn’t stop her from passing out the second her head hit the pillow.

#The fic is based in May so it's not technically a traditional 'Warm Night In' - hope that's ok!!#Steve accounts for 99% of the 'Warm' part lol #oh also since canonical ages are never given I think the general consensus is at this point Robin is almost about to graduate aged 18 #Steve has graduated and is 19 - Eddie is due to graduate and is 20 #s/tranger t/hings #nametakenfic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfucker #sneeze fucker #snz fet #snzblr

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glazedyam · 9 months

Note

hi, can you do mina nsfw alphabet? tysm 🧡

Mina NSFW Alphabet

WC: 1.22k

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mina loves aftercare, since she’s into the more tiring ways of sex. She’s usually calm and loving, but she can be clingy after sex when she’s jealous or feels possessive.

“—(Y/N)~ come here~ — Mina almost purred as she patted the spot next to her on the bed. You had just come out of the shower, and your hair was damp.

—I’m coming… — You murmured, getting your hair out of your face.

You sat next to her and she opened her arms for you, and you came into contact with her hot body.

—Mmm… —She hummed in content.”

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Hers: Her abs. She worked hard for them, okay? What’s not to love about them? She loves when you move your tongue around them and lick them. Or when you grind your pussy against them.

Yours: Your tits. She just loves to suck on them and to bite them. She doesn’t care if they’re big or small, as long as she can use them as stress balls whenever she pleases, it’s fine with her.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

She loves the taste of your cum. She likes to feel it dribbling down her chin when she eats you out, it’s such a turn-on for her…

D = Dirty secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

She ties you up during sex and it turns her on seeing you so helpless. Blindfolding you is also one of her turn ons. Seeing you so submissive has her clenching around nothing in excitement.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Mina has had time to reflect on what she likes, and she’s known about her tastes since she was a teenager, so she has her fair share of experience. She knows what she’s doing is what I’m getting at. ;)

F = Favorite position

She doesn’t have a favorite position, but any position where you can be tied up comfortably is her favorite.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I don’t think Mina is goofy or humorous when she has sex. I just can’t see her that way, so I’m going to say she’s far more serious in the moment than the others, since she takes her role as the dominant one seriously.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Japanese girls are usually not groomed, so I’m going to say she’s hairy down there.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect.)

Mina is very romantic in every aspect of sex. She just wants to make it special for both of you! She prepares candles, oils, and even incense if you’d like, as she wants to make it as sensual and comfortable as possible.

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

She doesn’t masturbate often, but before she met you she used to do it almost everyday, since she had so much sexual energy accumulated, she just needed to find a way to let go of it.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

BDSM. Mina is a dominatrix (I tried to hide it as much as I could before so it would be a surprise here, but it was quite obvious). She got into BDSM when she was in her early 20’s, but she had heard of it when she was a teenager from porn videos she had found on the internet. She always enjoyed seeing those women dressed in latex blindfolding their sub.

The idea of being in such control over someone turned her on so much… she couldn’t think of anything else for weeks! Until she decided to experiment with her then girlfriend. Safe to say, she enjoyed it a little bit too much, and she began researching more into the topic, and a few years later, we have our lovable dominatrix!

L = Location (Favorite places to do things)

Definitely the bedroom. She wouldn’t like to do it anywhere else, as it would ”taint the experience” in her opinion.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You getting touchy.

Mina isn’t used to physical touch, so whenever you touch her she gets a shiver running down her spine. She loves how touchy you are.

N = No (Turn offs, things they refuse to do)

Extreme things like hitting you or spitting on you are a no-no for Mina. She wants you to feel love, not degraded.

O = Oral (Preference in receiving or giving, skill, etc)

Mina is very skilled in giving oral, so much so she has you cumming in minutes. With receiving, she doesn’t prefer it, she prefers to be the giver.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Slow and sensual. As I said before, Mina is very sensual and worries about giving you the best experience possible, so don’t expect anything too rough out of her.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Mina likes to take her time with you during sex, so she’s not into quickies. She likes to use her time to prepare you and to play with you, slowly build up the pleasure, give her time to enjoy herself.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She is willing to experiment with you: different positions, games, etc. But risks? She’s not willing to take them if they're going to possibly interrupt you guys’ sex.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)

She’s a dancer so she can last for long, like 5 rounds before she’s exhausted.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

She used to own several toys to use on herself, but as time went by she decided it brought her far more pleasure to use them on you.

She prefers watching you squirm when the vibrator touches your puffy clit. It’s so delightful for her to see your eyes swell with tears of overstimulation.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

She likes to tease her fair share. She loves watching you blush and tell her to stop in embarrassment. But she doesn’t stop because if you don’t say the safe word, she won’t.

V = Volume (How loud are they, what sounds they make)

She speaks to you regularly, making sure you’re okay, humming when you make any lewd sounds, and of course, praising you when you’ve been a good girl.

W = Wild card

She goes to several of those bars where people from the kink community go to. She usually goes with you, or with her friends, but she likes to take a breather in a place where she knows no one will judge her.

(I’m going to skip the X, since she doesn’t have a dick)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Mina doesn’t have a high sex drive because she ends up satisfied when you have sex. She can last long periods of time without wanting to have sex again.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

She doesn’t fall asleep quickly, but she loves to cuddle you and hold you in her arms as you fall asleep.

#twice #fem reader #x reader #twice mina #twice mina x reader #myoui mina #sharon myoui #myoui mina x reader #mina myoui x reader

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ectodogart · 5 days

Text

P R I D E M O N T H S A L E !

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

that’s right! through the end of the month, you can get any of my pride merch for 20% OFF via my etsy!

no code required, discounts are applied automatically c:

reblogs are much appreciated! thank you so much for taking a look and have a wonderful pride month ☺️💙

#pride #lgbtq #art #artist alley #pride month

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stinger-shot · 8 months

Text

🧡TFP Ratchet SFW alphabet🧡

TFP Ratchet SFW alphabet.(This is my first time doing this, don't judge)

A = Affection (How affectionate they are)

- Ratchet doesn't really show affection alot, the only things you'll get in public are a small peck on the cheek or a normal kiss. (Maybe even a small nuzzle?)

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)

- Ratchet would be less grumpy with you and a little bit more open, not alot just a little..

C = Cuddles

- After a loooong and stressful day, expect some Cuddles, which is alot... even if he doesn't cuddle after a long day you'll still get some in berth.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

- Well if Cybertronians needed to eat, he'd be Gordon Ramsey, so your getting 5 star meals every night babyyyyy~

- Ratchets a clean freak, even though his work space can get messy he always needs to clean it up afterwards.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

- If you broke up with him first, he'd respect your wishes and wish you luck and give you a hug even though he would be upset.

- If he broke up with you first.. let's just say, he ain't talkn after-

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment?)

- Terrified but up for it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

- Oh he's very gentle, he wouldn't hurt you in the slightest, even emotionally he tries his best not to hurt your feelings. Even if he is grumpy-

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it?)

- He likes especially after a stressful moment or day.

- He likes them often unless it interrupts his work.

I = I love you (How do they say I love you?)

- "I love you y/n... you've made me the happiest mech in the world."

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get?)

- Oh he gets very jealous-

- If he does get jealous he just scoffs alot and holds his tounge and goes into a mood about it.

K = Kisses

- If your upset he'll give you a few pecks and maybe some butterfly kisses.

- If its just a normal kiss, just a nice passionate kiss on the lips.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

- It depends, if the kids being a brat he'll ignore them.

- but if the kids a sweetheart he'll maybe have a conversation.

M = Morning- SLEEPY CUDDLES!!!

N = Night

- He reads books before sleeping, makes him feel tired enough to go sleep.

- SLEEPY CUDDLES!!!

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves?)

- He's not open about himself, unless he's very very VERY upset about somthing.

- Or that one time he did dru- I MEAN- synth-N

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

- I think you know

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

- He remembers everything but does slip up once and a while.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

- First kiss or the first time he saw you.

S = Security (How protective are they?)

- He's very protective of you, but not that protective.

- Like if you got a paper cut he'd just shrug and walk away. (Not in a rude way tho)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

- A TON OF EFFORT

- Remember he cook like Gordon Ramsey *wink wink*

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

- His grumpiness.

- Feel free to glare at him everytime he scoffs!!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

- He doesn't care really, he's old, he doesn't care about that stuff anymore.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

- Yeah, pretty mutch..

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

- He's tried pepto bismol once.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

- honestly I don't know

- if your annoying ig? Just try not piss him off-

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

- He has a whole routine..

- he goes for a shower, reads a book, gets cuddley with you, then he's asleep.

- He snores and sleep talks in his sleep somtimes, so yea-

(This was my first time at this so yea! Hope you enjoyed!)

#transformers #tfp #tfp ratchet #transformers x reader #transformers fluff

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fakesimp · 9 months

Note

mysta x reader after the graduation stream :( featuring cuddles and crying? comforting?

Wherever you are, I'll always be with you, With Mysta Rias

Warning !

Hurt/Comfort ; Mentions of Crying ; Established Relationship

A/n !

🧡.

➶◜◝➴

Ah..

He's walking away, waving his hand.

You, hesitantly waving your hand back at him before you took a deep breath and waved higher, smiling at him. Not realizing the tears flowing down from the corner of your eyes.

"Thank you for everything, Mysta"

. . .

"Babe! Hey-"

You heard a familiar voice calling you out, soon your body is shaken gently. "Babe-" You slowly opened your eyes, "H, Huh?" Your voice, hoarse, cheeks stained with tears.

You didn't realize you were crying, "M, Mysta?" He stared at you, confused, worried. "You, You were crying in your sleep- I, I got worried, I'm sorry to wake you up.." He looked down and apologized.

You without saying anything just wrapped your arms around him, so tight, afraid that he'll disappear if you let him go.

You soon felt a pair of arms wrapped around you, him pulling you onto his lap, as he gently pat your back, silently giving you comfort.

"I was dreaming of you" You said in a whisper, he hummed softly, waiting for you to continue. ".. Graduation." You stopped and bury your face at the crook of his neck, he didn't say anything but the way he hugged you tightly, telling you that he's here.

There's no need to exchange words, he'll let you know that he will never leave you, his graduation is for him to say goodbye to his friends, viewers, and also to end his virtual career.

But he is yours, he is here, with you.

"I'm here" he said, as he leaned back to see your face, wiping your tears away, he kissed the corner of your eyes. ".. I'm here " he repeated, ".. With you"

You sobbed, and closed your eyes, leaned your forehead against his.

"I love you."

".. I love you too"

A/n !

Here ! Comfort fic for you and for others who still need comfort after his graduation.

( 5/10 )

#nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji #luxiem x reader #luxiem #mysta rias x reader #mysta rias #fakesimp replies

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daisies-daydreams · 3 months

Text

Who Can I Turn To? (Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Male!Reader)

Pairing: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x M!Reader Category: Fluff with a Hint of Angst Warnings: Swearing, Violence (Bar Fights), Depictions of Drinking, A bit of social awkwardness Word Count: TBA Request: Hello! Tis me again, coming at you with another request ^^ perhaps a Gaz/Male!reader where Gaz was out at a bar with the rest of the 141 and he witnesses the reader having a spat with another patron and he helps and gets to know them a bit? And maybe also gets his number? -🧡 A/N: Hello hello! Thank you so much for your request - I haven’t written much for Male!Reader, but I hope you enjoy!

"Oi, you fuckin' daft you prick?" a man over at the bar spat. Kyle shifted his gaze from the worn poker cards in his hands to a man around his age holding his hands up. A disgruntled, older patron furrowed his bushy brows as his white sweater was doused with a dark porter.

"I-I'm sorry, sir! Really!" the younger man said with a nervous expression. The other patron rose to his feet, his face beet red as he stumbled over to the young man.

"I suggest where you're walkin' you bloody eejit," he spat while poking his fat finger against the man's chest. Kyle raised his brows as he set his cards down.

"Keep on playing - I'll be back in a sec," he said before tapping his knuckles on the wooden table. The rest of his squad spared him a quick glance before turning back to their game, though Price kept a keen eye on the Sergeant. Kyle took a deep breath as he made his way over to the two men.

The younger man stumbled back and slammed against the dirty pub floor when the other patron clumsily pushed him down. Kyle instantly rushed forward just as the drenched man raised his fist. The Sergeant grunted as he grabbed the bearded man’s fist and swung him into the bar. Kyle wrinkled his nose as the stench of booze from the man's clothes and lips stung his nostrils.

“Get the fuck off me!” the irate man snarled as he writhed beneath Kyle’s strong grip. He leaned over the portly patron, keeping his legs pressed against his as he struggled to keep him down. The Sergeant glanced over at the younger man, the bruise on his face causing his stomach to twist into a searing, angry knot.

“Stay down!” Kyle growled as he tightened his grip around the older man’s wrists. The patron huffed as his resistance grew weaker until he grew limp beneath the soldier. Kyle huffed before turning towards Charlie, the bartender.

“You want me to call the police?” the tattooed man asked while holding up his phone. Kyle noticed the rest of the 141 standing from their seats, their brows furrowed as they walked over. Price looked over at the young man who cradled his cheek, then back towards Kyle.

“Go on, Sergeant. We’ll take care of this moppet,” the Captain drawled. Kyle parted his lips and nodded before Simon stepped over. The hulking man easily kept the inebriated patron pinned down as Kyle turned back to Charlie.

"I think we've got this handled," he grinned. The bartender nodded before slipping his phone back into his bock. Kyle's heart continued to race as he stepped over and offered the man a hand.

“You alright?” he asked, his brows pinched together with concern. The young man stared up at him with a soft, admiring gaze. He slowly nodded as he took Kyle’s hand. The Sergeant flashed him a grin as he helped him up, his heart skipping a beat as their warm palms embraced. The man returned Kyle's grin before rubbing the back of his head.

"Thanks," the stranger smiled. The soldier nodded as his hand slowly slipped back to his side.

"No problem. Sorry you had to deal with that wanker," Kyle sighed. The man before him shrugged as he hooked his thumbs into his jeans pockets.

"It happens. I should've been more careful," he frowned before glancing down at his feet. The Sergeant turned his head when he saw the 141 all surrounding the inebriated patron, Simon only keeping one of his large palms wrapped around the man's wrists as he carried on with a casual conversation.

"You're fine. Happens to all of us," Kyle replied as he turned back to the stranger. He continued to smile as he slightly tilted his head. "What's your name?" he asked. The man blinked as his shoulders slowly began to relax.

"(Y/N)," he replied while holding out his hand. "(Y/N) (L/N)," he continued. Kyle smiled as he shook the man's hand, his heart feeling a little lighter at the simple touch.

"Nice to meet ya. Name's Kyle Garrick," he said in return. An awkward silence lingered between the two before the man cleared his throat.

"Listen...would it be okay if I bought you a drink as a thank you for helping me out?" he asked hesitantly. Kyle's smile grew as his eyes beamed with delight.

"I mean, if you're offering," he shrugged. Both men chuckled before going up to the bar. They order their respective drinks and keep their attention on the football game playing in the TV.

"So, are you from London originally?" (Y/N) asked. Kyle hummed as he turned his attention back to the fellow beside him.

"Nah, I'm from West Bromwich originally. 'bout two hours from here," he explained. His eyes lit up as Charlie came back with two pints of beer: a porter for (Y/N) and a speckled hen for him.

"Gotcha. I'm just here on vacation - er, holiday," (Y/N) chuckled sheepishly.

"Toe-may-toe toe-mah-toe," Kyle shrugged with a playful grin. The man beside him laughed and gave a short nod. The Sergeant watched the 141 drag the inebriated man out the door. He took a swig of his drink and sighed.

"You ever been to England before?" Kyle asked. (Y/N) took a drink from his glass and shook his head.

"No, first time," he replied before flicking his eyes up and down Kyle's fit form. "Maybe you could show me around? I stick out like a sore thumb out here," he laughed. Kyle's smile turned up even more as he chuckled.

"It'd be my pleasure," he said with a small wink. The rest of the night seemed to pass by quickly, the two men exchanging stories about their lives and a few admiring glances here and there. Price eventually placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"Me and the boys are going to head on back. Got that big debriefing tomorrow," he said with a small apology in his eyes. Kyle bit the inside of his cheek as he turned back to (Y/N).

"Hey...is it alright if I get your number?" the Sergeant asked. The young man blinked before his eyes lit up.

"Sure thing," (Y/N) grinned before pulling out his phone. Kyle beamed as they exchanged numbers, glancing down at the new contact in his phone with a gleam in his eye. Price cracked a small smile before he nudged the Sergeant's shoulder.

"C'mon, Garrick. You'll have time to talk later," he rumbled. The soldier didn't realize how giddy he looked until his smile faltered.

"Right," the Sergeant replied as he slipped his phone back into his jean pocket. He looked back over at (Y/N) before taking a deep breath. "I'll text you later, yeah?" he smiled.

"Sounds good," the other man said while raising his empty glass. Kyle chuckled with a quick nod as he rose from his seat. He spared him one last glance before heading out with the rest of his squad.

"He seems nice," Johnny piped up before wiggling his brows. Simon rolled his eyes as Kyle's cheeks burned a little.

"Come off it, MacTavish," he muttered as he shifted his gaze, a small smile creeping onto his lips as he thought about being able to talk to the sweet, charming man he met in the pub.

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthashadowriley @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark @acotarobbsessed @8xbygirl @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @lyrasdrawer @rinverse

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#kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x male!reader #gaz x male reader #gaz x y/n #gaz x you #gaz fluff #kyle gaz garrick fluff #cod fluff #cod angst #gaz angst

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crappymixtape · 9 months

Text

touch me, babe

REQUEST → 500 follower celebration, @steveharringtonscarkeys • personal prompt: 🧡 with stevie boy :) a couple details consist of; i'm a ginger w/ curly hair, am really into 70's music and play electric guitar! | ( 3.1k – sprinkles of fluff, mostly smut, friends to lovers, steve x reader )

T O U C H M E, B A B E 🎶 i can't get my head around you, billie marten

Come on, come on, come on. Now touch me, babe. What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said?

Scratchy, electric riffs buzzed through the thick, stormy summer air. Catching on the too-hot breeze that blew in through Steve’s open window. Carrying like they always did out your open garage door and tangling up with your voice as it wrapped around each note.

Steve thought Jim Morrison didn’t have shit on you.

Swinging a leg out over the window ledge he leaned back against the wood frame and let the sound wash over him. Plucked guitar strings, static rubbing against the lyrics, tractors pulling discs through the field over the fence and the constant hum of his pool filter. Clouds stretched across the wide, darkening expanse of the Indiana sky, towering high overhead and threatening rain.

A sliver of warm light fell out onto the street from the fringe lamp he knew was sitting next to your amp on the floor. He could picture your fingers pressing and sliding up and down the fret board. Cherry red guitar held tight against your body. Messy, strawberry curls falling loose from the tie you’d twisted them up into.

A car sped past and cut through the beam of gold, making it flicker against the pavement, and Steve felt the tiny embers in his chest catch fire as you reached the chorus.

Now, I’m going to love you ‘til the heavens stop the rain. I'm going to love you ‘til the stars fall from the sky, for you and I.

He pictured your lips pressed against the mic, body swaying along with the music, the long sweep of your lashes fanning out across your cheeks as you closed your eyes during the parts you really felt. The parts you loved to sing most.

Come on, come on, come on. Now touch me, babe. What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said?

Steve bit the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

Debating.

The embers in his chest licking at his ribs.

What are you waiting for?

Pushing himself off the ledge he ducked back into his room and ran down the stairs taking them by twos. The dirty Blazers on his feet slapping against the concrete as he jogged out the door onto his walkway and across the street.

To you.

Now, I’m going to love you ‘til the heavens stop the rain. I'm going to love you ‘til the stars fall from the sky, for you and I.

The chorus flung you out into the ether like it always did. Consumed you. Each word sung as if you were performing for a crowd of thousands and not in your messy garage.

Your fingers had a mind of their own as they danced along the strings of your guitar, hitting each chord effortlessly and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the song reached its crescendo. Your favorite part. Building and swelling and pushing at the edges until you hit the last note.

Stronger than dirt.

Stepping back from the mic you shook loose curls out of your face and leaned down to toss the stereo chord out of your way when a sharp sound pulled your gaze up.

“Steve?”

Hair swept messy and stuck across his forehead in the humidity, he had that stupid smile on his face. The one that made everything go hazy and he was clapping.

“Shut up,” you teased, grinning, all play and no heat, and he smirked right back.

“What? You make Morrison sound like shit.”

Your mouth dropped open, mock offense as you pulled your guitar up over your head and set it on the stand.

“Steven, that’s blasphemy.”

“Not if it’s true,” he shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the garage where the breeze couldn’t reach and the air shifted. Pressed into him. Charged. Electric like your cherry red guitar.

“What’re you doing anyway,” you said, more a statement than a question, looked over at him through the ginger curls that kept falling down into your face and the grin on his lips fell a little. The way your eyes met his caught him off guard and all of a sudden he was a little unsure.

What was he doing?

Clearing his throat he carded a hand through his hair and shrugged again, “Dunno. Heard you playing and thought I’d come over.”

“Oh,” you said softly, smiling a little at the way his nerves peeked through. All bravado and confidence and King Steve swept away by time and experience and, if he was being honest, you.

His eyes widened a bit at your reply and he quickly thumbed over his shoulder, “Uh–I could go if–”

“–no, stay,” you cut him off, took a step forward and grabbed his hand.

Steve looked down at where your palms were suddenly pressed together and then you felt the air shift too. The heat of summer, the faded scent of Steve’s cologne, fresh laundry and spearmint and boy and you bit your lip between your teeth.

Your best friend. The one who told you, you were better than Jim Morrison. The one who’d come listen to you play even if it was pouring down rain, even if your garage was as hot as an oven, even if you didn’t feel like playing and maybe it was the heat or maybe it was the way Steve was looking at you, but you wanted – no needed – him to stay.

“Please stay?” you asked again, quieter this time and Steve swallowed thick. Jaw ticking as he pressed his teeth together. Worked to muster up the courage to finally just do what he knew you both wanted and took a step closer, pressed the toes of his dirty, beat up old Blazers into your black Chucks.

“Okay,” he half-whispered, lashes sweeping across his cheeks as he blinked heavy and took you in.

Strawberry blonde and freckles. Sweet like cherries and soft like rain. Curls that framed your face so perfectly he was set to fail the moment he laid eyes on you and his brows furrowed together the longer he looked, almost as if in pain, and he shook his head in disbelief.

”So fuckin’ pretty,” he couldn’t help it now, felt like he was being pulled into your orbit, lifted a hand to your cheek and let out a small sigh. “Can I–can I kiss you?” it was shy, tentative and unsure and it made the heat in your chest glow and flicker to life.

Even if you wanted to say something back you couldn’t and instead let your fingers tangle into the fabric of his shirt, pulled him down into you and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft thing, tentative and searching and new and you could feel him smile against you. Like letting loose a held breath. Like plunging into the pool in the heat of summer. Lost and tumbling through time and space until he slowly pulled away, big brown eyes taking you in. But his smile faded the longer he looked and the little pinch reappeared between his brows. Like he was trying to work through it all and he bit at the inside of his cheek, kicking himself for stopping.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly, out of character and far from smug, a silly question with even sillier timing and you felt your cheeks flush as you laughed softly.

“You never asked,” you answered simply and he gave you a lopsided smile.

“I wanted to, for the record,” he insisted and it made you laugh again, louder this time and you took his face in his hands.

“And my answer still would’ve been yes, for the record,” your tone was teasing, but as your eyes searched his, he knew you were far from it and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Yeah? Can’t say no to this face, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you laughed through a groan and sighed, “You can be smug all you want, Harrington, but you have horrible timing.”

That made him chuckle, but it was a sheepish thing and his cheeks were hot as he cleared his throat, a sorry mumbled into the air between you and it made you press your hand back to his chest.

“S’okay,” you murmured back, the tease in your tone fizzling out at the way Steve’s hand was pressed into your hip. The way his breath warmed over your cheek. They way his cologne made you feel hazy and when he lifted a hand to slip his fingers through your curls it made your breath catch your throat.

He held your head in his hand and blinked heavy, looked at you through the long sweep of his lashes and leaned down again all slow, but this time when he kissed you it was full of heat. Curiosity giving way to something more urgent, something needy and you felt yourself giving in.

He held tight to your waist, pressed his fingers into you and pulled you in close, your hips bumping together as he walked you back against the wall of the garage. Stumbling over your stereo chord, Steve’s hand squeezed at you, kept you steady and you both couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Would’ve played Morrison sooner if I’d known you’d like it that much,” your tone teasing again and Steve chuckled, a low rumble that made your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, well–” pulling back he looked down at you, smile lopsided, all boy, lips pink and breaths falling a little faster, “–don’t know til you try it I guess.”

He was so fucking pretty. Even in the stuffy, thick air that had settled in the garage. Especially with the way his hair was stuck messy across his forehead. Skin dewy, tanned and dotted in new freckles and moles, washed in gold from the sun. His eyes glittered dark in the dim light from your lamp, whiskey and amber and warm honey, and the absence of his mouth on you struck you sharply.

“Steve…” came out, an almost a whine, pleading and his eyes closed. Let your voice settle in his chest. The way you said his name. Pouring into his ears and filling him up until it spilled over at the edges. He was done for.

Leaning into you again he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, “Tell me.”

A clap of thunder overhead made the windows in the garage shake, lightning slicing the sky in two and it began to rain. Slow at first then faster still, dropping heavy on the roof overhead and drowning out your reply, so you took his hand instead and ran it down your body.

Over the swell of your chest, the dip of your waist, the plush of your thighs, slower and slower until you stopped. Settled it between your legs and looked up at him, needy and wanting, and he swore softly under his breath. Swallowed thick. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at what you were silently telling him, his tongue running along his bottom lip in a rare show of nerves.

“Please,” you asked and he let out a strangled sound, did as you asked and dipped back down to press kisses along your jaw. Open mouthed and teeth feather light when he reached your neck and it burned the way he felt on you, pulling pretty sounds from your throat and making the ache in his jeans unbearable.

The hand he had at the seam of your legs moved up with ease to the button on your shorts, popped it open and pulled the zipper down. Slowly running his fingers along the lace trim on your panties he felt each of the tiny embroidered flowers there. Pinks and lilacs and buttercup yellows. Soft and sweet. The pad of his thumb bumping over them as he slipped his hand down lower and lower until he could feel just how much you needed him and he groaned at how wet you were, an almost pained sound, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Christ, baby.”

Baby.

“You okay?” he asked through gritted teeth and you could barely hear him over the rain on the metal roof, so you looped an arm over his shoulder to pull him down into you.

“M’okay,” you murmured into his ear and he loosed the breath he’d been holding, the feeling of it warming over the exposed skin on your shoulder.

Bringing his lips back to your neck he dragged them along your collarbone, the swell of your breasts sucked pretty little marks on your skin and pulled your panties aside. Fingers slipping in your slick there he drew slow, lazy circles over your clit and god it made your breath catch in your throat.

“Sh-shit,” you hissed, keening high, frustrated little sounds falling from your lips as you pressed up onto your toes to reach him better, your legs starting to tremble and he tutted.

“No, no no,” and pulling his hand away you made a noise of protest, but then he was wrapping his hands behind your thighs and lifting you from the ground, “Shh, I got you, baby.”

Walking you across the garage he set you atop the work bench, lifted a hand to push strawberry curls out of your eyes as the rain fell impossibly harder above you. Rubbing like static against your ear drums and when you finally looked up Steve was kneeling between your legs. Looping his fingers into the belt loops on your shorts and lifting his brows in question.

“Lemme take care of you, hm?” he asked over the rain, “Can I do that, baby?”

And all you wanted then was the feeling of him between your legs again. Yes, yes, yes, spilled from your mouth and he tugged at your shorts, eased them down along with your panties over your knees and off onto the floor. Hooked his hands big and wide behind the crook of your legs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table.

Mouth pink and kiss bitten he licked over his bottom lip, anticipating how you’d taste, and slowly spread your legs open. Trailed his fingers back through your folds and pulled away. Swallowed hard at how they glistened with you in the low lamplight and looked up at you, pupils blown wide. All amber and warm honey.

“Oh baby. Baby. Gonna make you feel good, honey,” he babbled, kneeled forward and pulled you even closer so that the tip of his nose brushed against your tummy. Pressed kisses to your thighs, held tight to your leg and brought his hand back to your pussy. Spread your lips with his fingers and ran his tongue flat and wide through you and the pretty moan it pulled from you made his heart stutter.

“More, need you,” you were begging now, wiggling your hips on the table and he didn’t make you ask again, dipped back down into you and lapped at you with his tongue, made you see stars. Licking and sucking like a man starved and when you bucked up against his face he pressed kisses against you.

“What d’you want, princess, tell me.”

“Your fingers, Steve, please.”

And as he took his hand away from your cunt you nearly cried, but then he was sucking on his fingers. Wrapping his lips around them and making the coil in your stomach wind even tighter as you watched him drag them from his mouth with a pop and it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he pressed his fingers back up against your entrance and slowly slipped them into you. The middle one first, in and out, in and out, warming you up before adding the second one and god the stretch you felt was so fucking perfect.

“Yes, oh shi–” you sucked in a breath as he set the pace, slow and heated, “–just like that.”

His fingers were so much longer than yours, pressing into the spot you couldn’t reach on your own, and when he put his mouth back on you it pulled a filthy moan from your lips. It was almost too much. His tongue flicking at your clit while his hand worked you up, wound you tight, tugged you closer and closer until your breaths grew shallow and you tangled your fingers into his hair.

When you pulled at the ends he hummed, the feeling vibrating against you as he picked up the pace and filled the garage with the sound of his fingers working into you.

Huh, huh, huh, you weren’t capable of words, instead letting out a sob with each thrust.

“S-so close, oh my god,” you were gasping, “Faster, Steve.”

And he took his mouth away from you, replaced it with his thumb on your clit, slipped it in messy circles as his fingers fucked you faster.

“C’mon, baby, come for me. So good for me,” words of praise fell from his lips, warm like honey and saccharine sweet and you finally felt the coil in your stomach snap.

“Oh shi-shit, oh fuck,” you gasped for breath, back arching perfectly with Steve’s fingers still deep inside you and he’d never seen anything so pretty in all his life. As he slowed he eased you down, gently pulled his hand away from you and let you fall forward into his arms, legs shaky from the effort.

“Doin’ okay?” he asked, softly teasing and grinning into your neck where he’d pressed his face to kiss at the skin there.

“Shut up,” you laughed, still breathless, pinching at his sides and it pulled a laugh from him too.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, still nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmhm,” you murmured, exhaustion slowly wrapping around your body.

“Think you’re perfect,” he said, pulling away just enough to catch your sleepy gaze and it made your heart skip a beat. Made your lips tug up into a small little smile. Made you shake your head and mumble in protest, but he tutted them away, “M’serious.”

“You also think I’m better than Morrison and everyone knows that’s shit,” you teased and he squeezed at you, pressing kisses to the top of your head, your ear, your cheek.

“Well then I’m shit,” he confessed, softening, kissing at your lips all sweet and holding you tight to his chest, “But I don’t care. Long as I have you.”

And god, did he have you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist