#humid💦

[geezerwench]

Sunset clouds

[is-on-its-way]

An update from her tiktok... WHAT IS GOING ON?

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ エロチックトバー２０２４> MDNI / EXPLICIT CONTENT

THE PRICE OF YOUR FREEDOM 💦 TRAFALGAR LAW X GN! READER ＫINKTOBER DAY 28: SHIBARI

🐙 requested by: Anonymous. Trafalgar Law for day 28 shibari? With gender neutral reader or fem reader it's fine. Can Law be the one who tied up instead the reader? ⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. law is tied up. jerking off. exchanging "sex" for freedom. dominant gn! reader. maybe sex slave Law. 🐙 wc: 1,1k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist

With cords around his wrists, the intruder hangs on a room that lacks light. Humid, even smelly. The walls reminds him of a dungeon, and, in fact, he is not wrong.

“They told me you were trying to sneak into my island, pirate” you spit, opening the doors that blind the intruder with a sudden burst of light coming through.

“Fuck you, bitch” he grunts. A man so handsome, covered in tattoos. His muscles are noticeable, he is lean, and his skin has a caramel tint. Oh, what an interesting prey your subordinates just caught.

“That is not the proper way to refer to me, sweet boy…” you giggle, coming closer to his body. Those tight jeans around long, long legs are delicious to look at. But the protruding hipbones are more. Your index reaches for his stomach; with abs spasming to your touch, he lets you know he is more than sensitive to it… oh, are you getting hard just by my simple touch?

“What are these tattoos, pirate? What do they mean?” you ask, coming even closer to his body. Your index still tracing up and around the curls of black ink, bumping with cords that also garnish his thorax.

He looks to the side, a golden hoop on his ear reflects the warm light of torches outside… he isn’t disclosing any good information.

“Ah… come on! Tell me something! I just wanna get to know you, I don’t really plan on hurting you… plus, I know your name… aren’t you…” you laugh, coming closer to his ear as you get on tippy toes and your palms rest on his chest. “…Trafalgar Law? Cooperate with me, come on… I know you are strong” you continue.

He immediately looks at you; he burns holes into your eyes with a glacial look that could freeze you up. An everlasting frown, sweet dark circles…

“What do you want?” he asks, this time serious and more annoyed than before.

You walk away, just a little, with your index closer to your lips and your eyes wondering the ceiling as you act like you are thinking about something.

“Mhh… I am not exactly sure, cause you know… I was just minding my own business when you appeared on the coast of my island… to be fair, you should be the one telling me…also, you looked pretty beaten up” you smirk, showing him something he hasn’t probably noticed yet; gauze patching up here and there, bruises all over, and dry blood that hasn’t been cleaned up properly yet.

Law knows, exactly, what had happened to him. Thing is, he won’t tell you. However, he is willing to negotiate; he is aware the cords aren’t simply cords and that they are, indeed, made of thousands of thin kairoseki filaments.

“Tell me, what do you want? I am willing to negotiate my freedom” he mutters; Law wants to be out of this situation as fast as possible. You smirk and then bite your lower lip; lust takes over, your body getting warmer, your skin bumpier.

“Well, I think you are delicious… what do you have for me? What is the cost of your freedom, Trafalgar Law?”

“Heh, are you that desperate you need to force men?” he asks -insults- you.

This time you scoff; a big smile that’s closer to a demon’s scares him a little bit. You come closer; you don’t walk, you seem to crawl like a venomous snake… with a swift motion, your hand lands on his hardness. A bulge that’s been getting more and more noticeable the more you spoke.

“Are you sure I am the desperate one? What’s with this, mh? Aren’t you a little bit too hard?” you ask into his ear, biting his earlobe right after.

Law gasps a little; probably he wasn’t ready for that sudden touch… but he wants more…

You pull from a cord that hangs behind him, lifting his whole body over the ground. Just a little, enough for his feet to barely graze the floor with the tip of his boots. The cords properly tied around his body carve into his flesh, causing Law to grimace in pain if any part would touch a bruise.

“Does it hurt, Law-san?” you inquire, sliding your index in between a cord and his skin at his ribs level.

“You want my body? Take it” he huffs, squirming when your hand reaches for his stomach from behind.

You smile; you were never using his body if he wasn’t expressly asking for it… With a bite on his side, and a hand sliding up his chest getting underneath the cords on his pecs, you give him what he had been asking for.

His jeans were easy to take off; those slid down and got tangled around his ankles. Boxer briefs of slightly funny heart patterns, show staining from precum sprouting and his sex, that throbs, awaits for your silky hands…

“You want my hands around your sex, Law-san?” you ask, kissing his neck with soft, butterfly pecks.

“That’s the price of my freedom?” he asks, slightly moving his hips back and forth.

“That’s something that is up to you to decide…” you giggle, sliding your hand into his underwear. Hot to the touch, wet and hard is how it feels… pulsating sex in between your hand, that has a little surprise right at the tip; a cold metallic ring.

As you begin to pump, pleased with the soft whimpering coming out of his mouth, his body moves with your jerking off delight; hanging from the ceiling, trembling, moving and with each move carving those debilitating ropes more and more into his caramel skin… ah, delicious!

Law’s boxer briefs also fall, and he wishes his whole body would also fall… his wrists, become redder and painful, the more he squirms to your touch.

You play with your palm on top of his tip, moving the little piercing, getting his gland more and more aroused. It’s so good to see this strong Yonko willing to fuck your hand, as he pays for his “freedom”.

So close, so close… so close until it bursts with grunts and not so manly whimpers… and you leave him there, dripping cum on the floor and into his pants.

“I’ll be back soon, Law-chan” “Free me, (Name)-ya!” “ah... you know my name? then I am sure you don’t want me to do it, right? A simple orgasm is not the price of your freedom… Trafalgar D. Water Law ~”

[colourofthekites]

I'm sticky 💦 (cause it's very humid right now)

[trashmouth-richie]

Alright, babe. Let's do Angsty, and your words are: crunch and parking lot

xo -Amanda

@curiositydooropened you asked for angst and bby i’m delivering hot and ready in 30 minutes or less, like surfer boys pizza or a real horny boyfriend. 🍆💦

18+ HEAVY ANGST, upside down themes, s1 canon events with reader thrown into the mix. you’re dating eddie! yay!

<650 words

send me a prompt! from this post :)

A strong western wind bristled the leaves.

Wrestling colors of burnt persimmon and chestnut hues around in a whimsical swirl of a colorful tornado. Some stuck to the inky wet of the grass from the early morning rain. Others found their way like Magellan to a faraway land (a nearby leaf pile) or maybe into the yard of a lucky kid able to rake enough of them up to earn a few dimes in the pockets of their Levi’s. 

It was chilly for the unusual Indian Summer Hawkins was experiencing this fall. As if winter broke through the endless seams of  the late humid summer, demanding to be felt, to be seen.

Could you do that? Be seen? 

You heard the screech of the ailing boy nights before. The squeal of tires from the police station. His mother—you presumed, frantically called his name into the town, like a lone wolf howling into the harvest moon hung sky. 

Yet, the boy remained missing. 

Would you be missed…like the Byers’ boy? Who would call for you? Would he?

Flyers went up, crunching beneath the metallic thump of a steel staple. Into telephone posts, poked through cork boards around the school with colorful tacs. Taped to pay phones and called across radio stations. 

Eddie had assured you that he had probably run away, typical for kids that age who didn’t get what they wanted. But you felt something. Heard things in the night while curled into his chest. It spoke to you. Begged you to look for It.. 

Barbara Holland went missing. Last seen at a party of Harrington’s that you heard him loudly strutting around the hallways about to impress the quiet, pretty freshman girl. 

Again, you told your boyfriend of your worries. Cried to him about the lack of sleep you’d been getting, the nightmarish creatures you’d seen when your eyes were closed. He pulled you into him, forefinger hooked under your jaw, and like a fish on a line, you succumbed to him. It was hard not to when somebody loved you the way Eddie did. 

Had it been days? You couldn’t be sure. 

Street lights flickered. They always did at Eddie’s— it was normal. But maybe you should have been more self-aware. Maybe you would have noticed It. 

Long spindly arms clawed at your coat as you ran, bony fingers hooked into the belt around your waist, pulling you back, further and further towards the opening at the base of a tree. 

You fought, clawed at dirt and muck and shit to escape its clutches. Badly bleeding, injured, breaths away from death— until you weren’t. Until you were somehow nestled beneath foliage— safe, hiding, alone. 

The treeline behind the trailer park was where you laid. Unable to make a sound, caked with dried blood, colored dark on your body, the sharp stink of infection and decay permeated the chilly air, and you knew it was from you. 

Would he know how much you loved him? How proud of him you were for sticking up for kids who needed it?

You’d miss his smile, his dimples, that giddy dorky laugh he couldn’t hide when you tickled his sides. The way butterflies swarmed in your stomach when he kissed you.

Would he miss you…cry for you?

You lie in wait watching the leaves scatter across the dirt parking lot. Body cold and broken, blood trickling to the earth. Time ticking down to what could possibly be your inevitable end. 

[wulvercazz]

🌊Young Fun💦

Previous~ Back with Open World and Thirteen, Marina and Atticus 🥰💕 This update is mosty smut btw lmao!

The sunset started to settle in the sky after a little stop by Marina’s home. Tortuga was nice and tired even after napping while they ate and the fish and seafruit Marina had caught earlier needed to be deposited in the reservoirs for fresh keeping; and her little brother would be dying to see her, if just for a few minutes, before he was put to bed. Marina walked out the front door soon after, all smiles as she met back with them and announced they were ready to fully appreciate the sunset together. It was a short walk to the shore, down the rocky sandy path straight from Marina’s to the sound of the waves. The humid air hugging them tighter the closer they got. No words spoken, only Marina smiling their way when all three came to a stop at the exact place where water licked the sand, excited for them to see the beauty they’d just described to them; as though Thirteen were about to open a gift. A little cheesy, more than a little emotive, Marina took Atticus’ hand on her right and theirs on her left. Everyone looking at each other expectant as the sun slowly started to reach the horizon, the warm yellows and pinks bleeding to violet and the light of the stars slowly blinking to life. And then the sun fully hides behind the sea, and an unnatural glow shines from the synergy of the sun and the night sky; barely the couple seconds that it takes for the sun to stop being visible altogether. Thirteen’s already gaping at the mouth, eyes wide and sparkling like the stars shine one them too; “wait, wait– here comes the best part!” Marina chippers their way, squeezing their hand as their whole attention turns back to the sea. Slowly, the water starts to earn it’s own colors; like the lights of the midnight market back in the forest, the coral and the fish slowly twinkle to life as the moon above becomes brighter. Ethereal light glowing from below the water and Thirteen feels their feet take them right in and until they get wet. Then a hand’s pulling them back and it’s Marina with that look she gets when she’s got something up her sleeve, “wanna go skinny dipping?” She asks all giddy, and Atticus’ eyes nearly jump out their sockets and his face burns up but, in his own way, he looks just as excited as she does; naturally, Thirteen says ‘yes, please’. The water’s warmer than they expect, calming the chill from the breeze and easing the ache from the day’s exercise; their clothes safe and dry on the rocky formations out the water. Marina and Atticus’ movements are as graceful as earlier, even on low water, Marina’s hair seems to never be too wet to get messy, and Atticus tail seems to follow the flow of the water so naturally it almost gets lost in it. Thirteen is almost too busy watching the lights to notice them kissing, until they get called in close. It starts as mindless playing, Marina exploring Thirteen’s body like she did the first time they met this up close; in wonder of the way the light shines in their much darker skin, unlike how it does on hers or her partner’s. Then everyone’s touching, and somehow they all gravitate towards a nearby rock to get comfortable and Thirteen ends up following Marina’s guidance in making Atticus mewl a little. Doing a little exploring for themself, on the lines and curves and light peach fuzz that seemed to cover his whole body, while Marina mouthed at his sensitive neck and scritched at his nape, her fingers drumming over his skin. Thirteen wouldn’t have done it on their own accord, not in this situation, but one look and one guiding hand atop their head has them catching on and kneeling between the cat-hybrid’s trembling knees. Shaky breaths and scaredy mewls out his lips when he realizes what’s going on, Marina’s hands and lips and words gentle and appeasing as Thirteen figures out what makes him purr.

It’s a nice length, soft yet heavy on Thirteen’s hands, and warm on the tentative tongue they settle the head on; Atticus gasping over so little. It’s encouraging. Thirteen wrapping their lips around his dick to suckle and swipe at the head while Marina traces his shaky abdomen and teases his nipples. Atticus’ thighs threaten to close on them at a particularly mean suck, so Thirteen rests on one to avoid being thoroughly crushed, and for their hand to better reach the base of his bluish cock, getting darker the more he’s teased; the harder he gets. Thirteen’s hands squeeze and pump at what’s not in their mouth, relishing in the little cries and the sudden jumps of his muscles as both of them tease and play him to their hearts’ extent. Confused when Marina leaves his side and whispers something in Thirteen’s ear; making them stop completely. Follows them with dazed eyes and a question hanging from his lip as Thirteen climbs all over him and Marina settles on his lap; nearly loses his breath when she sits on his dick. He gets the message when Marina holds on to Thirteen’s chest, balancing their weights on each other, and clamps his arms under Thirteen’s thighs and pulls them up the rest of the way to his face, drowning on their pussy while Marina tortures him with tiny thrusts and rolls of her hips; squeezing him with her warm walls and pinching at Thirteen’s nipples with her fingers. The growing waves drown out their collective cries, the pants hidden by the crashing of water against rock and splashing of their own movements, everybody’s limbs tingly and shivering with every rock of Marina’s hips jumping under Atticus’ hips rutting needy and fast, and his mouth working Thirteen’s cunt deep with a tongue raspier than they expected. Bullying their clit like they bullied his cock. Everyone blanks out one after the other, holding on for dear life to whoever’s at arms’ reach until the high of the orgasm lets them think clearly and melt into the water to chill out their overheated bodies. “I’m gonna sleep like a rock–” Marina chuckles between heavy breaths; standing on jiggly legs until Atticus helps her deeper into the water. Splashes his own face clean and smiles sheepishly, and nicely tired, at no one in particular. The chilling of the night breeze forces them out the water some time after, pulling them from quietly watching the glow beneath the waves; only breaking the peace to point at funny fish below. Everyone shivers a little on the way back, the dry clothes damping over their wet skin, less on Marina than on them – with the way her body seemed to repel water, that the growing winds were quick to cool with every hit.  It was easy to forget Atticus's family came from money, and then things like this would happen where his folks would send a servant to pick him up from Marina’s when it got too late, brought him a change of comfy clothes and a towel because they were aware of Marina’s antics. Aid Atticus begrudgingly agrees to, with some shame to his posture after a shy ‘it’s ok’ is not taken for an answer. Atticus would’ve rather walked back chittering cold, is what Marina tells them as Atticus’ fancy ride leaves, just a short walk away from Marina’s home. She knows he comes from wealth, and it doesn’t matter much to her, but Atticus would rather these little displays of it would be dialed down to nothing. Not that his parents would let that happen, they’re a bit overprotective that way; took them months to be convinced Marina wouldn’t lose him in the water.

When they enter Marina’s home, her parents are getting finished with dinner and about ready to put themselves to sleep; they welcome them, and ask their whereabouts. Marina lies with such surprising ease from someone so open; although it’s not like she lies completely, or that Thirteen would’ve preferred she told the truth. She tells them they showed them the sunset and the night glows, and then lost time playing with the water, it’s why Thirteen was so damp. They take it with a little grumbling from her dad, for being out so late, but he’s appeased by Marina kissing him on the cheek goodnight. Her parents have prepared a bed for them on Marina’s room, Thirteen wasn’t even sure where they’d stay the night, to be honest, but it’s clear they wouldn’t have allowed it any other way. Atticus and Marina both have something nice here, something warm and homey, it gets Thirteen thinking about family again; wondering aimlessly until sleep overtakes them.

sigghhh uwu I love lewding up my ocs and smashing them together like barbies lmao ✨ hope you enjoyed ✨

[putschki1969]

🇹🇭KEIKO Bangkok Pilgrimage🇹🇭

Imagine my surprise when I saw that the latest Niku&Choco fan club magazine contained a two-page feature of Keiko's private trip to Bangkok earlier this year. I had originally planned to spend a few relaxing days in Thailand with the one or the other more eventful activity but seeing all the things that Keiko had done, I naturally felt inspired to do the same stuff. First I needed to find out what exactly she had done, where she had gone and what she had eaten. I put on my Putschki Holmes hat and started researching right away. After some initial difficulties I was able to figure out almost everything. My friends helped provide some additional info and were of course kind enough to play tourist guide for me in some of the more confusing locations.

From what I can tell, Keiko must have stayed either around the Siam area or a little further out around the Sukhumvit line. Her activities were mostly limited to Siam Paragon (a big mall at Siam station) and Central Embassy (another big mall at Phloen Chit station). She also visited the Talad Noi district near Bangkok's famous Chinatown. Without further ado, let's get to it〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

❗This is FAN CLUB EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗FOR PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗DO NOT USE/SHARE ON OTHER SITES❗ ❗SUPPORT KEIKO and JOIN her FAN CLUB. Detailed TUTORIAL❗

Talad Noi

This area is famous for its gorgeous street-art. Keiko took lots of pictures in front of some of the more extravagant pieces. I tried posing in a similar manner but oh boy, I totally failed. It's almost embarrassing how horribly stiff I look in most of these...And you know what?! I ordered these exact pants earlier this month but unfortunately, they didn't arrive in time for my trip 😔How cool would it have been to take these pictures wearing the same pants as Keiko! *sobs* A huge thank you to my friends who joined me on this little adventure in Talad Noi. I never would have found these specific murals without their help. Also, kudos to us for taking approximately five million pictures in the sweltering heat. It was so hot and humid that day💦

Siam Paragon & Siam Center

Had a great time at Siam Paragon. The food court was amazing. A shame that I couldn't try everything in a single day. I decided to try the frozen yogurt from Yolé and a shabu-shabu set at Hitori Shabu. Wanted to try McDonald's too because I was curious about some of the Thailand-limited items but there was just not enough time for all that extra food. I only took a picture in front of the Fire Tiger place at Siam Center (not much of a smoothie person to be honest).

Central Embassy

Lots of yummy food to choose from at Central Embassy. Keiko did nothing but eat there it seems. I was only there for half a day so I honestly had a hard time deciding on what to try. Eventually I ended up going to the shaved-ice place "The Dessert by Kaithong Original" because I was craving something cold. I cheated a little bit with "Somboon Seafood" because I only went there to take some pictures with my acrylic Cakey but I didn't actually eat anything at the restaurant until a few days later. Went to another more popular branch with some friends and we ordered the famous crab curry. I also only took a few pictures outside of "Din Tai Fung", it's a shame though because I would have enjoyed some dim sum but honestly, that shaved ice thingy almost killed me

Airport

Last but not least, a final picture at the airport before it's time to fly back home.

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

����𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 🎃💦 ∘₊✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟚 ✧₊

|| ︶꒦꒷𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥꒷꒦︶ | main masterlist ||

@absurdthirst's Kinktober 2023 Prompts

day 22: True Monsters, Spiritual Possession, Sexual Exhaustion

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

| PAIRING(s): monster!Joel Miller x soulmate!f!reader | RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 2.2k | CONTENT: it's Joel Miller as a humanoid monster beast creature with a massive cock idk what you want me to say, creative liberties with anatomy and bodily fluids, they're soulmates because I wrote this so of course they are, monster!Joel can talk a little but it wouldn't kill him to watch a few episodes of Reading Rainbow or do some alphabet flash cards tbh, one curious use of an aquifer as a metaphor | SYNOPSIS: You encounter a frightening beast in the forest after getting separated from your group. Instead of killing you, he spares your life - the first of many surprises from this mysterious creature.

The prick of his maw grazed your collarbone, breaths coming so frantic it was hard to keep from ballooning into the death trap of his jaw altogether. Perhaps it would just be easier to give in. Let yourself be ravaged by this man beast and succumb to the darkness it offered. You lie caged in his form, waiting as he evaluated his prey. Looking for the weakest point of flesh to rend with his incisor. Watching with delight at the flickering pulse he was soon to take from you.

But seconds ticked by and turned into minutes, and still nothing. Just the rancid humidity of his breath flowering over your trembling face and body.

“Just do it already,” you whisper, hoarse and resigned and too tired to fight anymore.

A horrid, strained sound crawled from his throat. It dawned on you he was attempting to speak. “Want. Close. To you.”

You blink a few times, frozen in shock. “Y-You want…to be close with me?”

The man beast grunted something like an affirmation, and it was then you noticed the beady insistence of his eyes. There was something almost human there. Almost.

“What do you want from me?” you shudder.

The man beast made an aggravated noise. I just told you what I wanted.

“But w-what does that mean? Close?”

He seemed calmer now, more understanding. As if it was everyday you found yourself conversing with a humanoid creature large and powerful enough to rip you clean in half. “You say. You tell what close. I go with you.”

You shake your head against the rough rubble beneath your head where he has you pinned against the ground. Had he tackled you to keep you from running further? Had he not wanted to catch you to kill you like you’d assumed when you were running as fast as your feet would carry you? Was this all some strange misunderstanding?

“You want me to decide? What close means? How close I want to get?”

Again, that strangled noise of communication, this time an affirmation – or at least you think so. In all honesty, you wanted as much space between you and this hulking man creature as possible. His body was a rippled mass of musculature and strength that spoke to the devastation he could cause if he wanted to. And yet, something in his eyes, in his softened movements as jittery as they were, called to the deepest parts of you to tend to him.

“Can you– I want to get up,” you say with a great deal of mustered courage.

“You run again.” His vocalizations were becoming smoother, more sure. Maybe it had just been a long time since he’d spoken to someone else? You wonder who he’d learned from and where they were now, what had become of prior human companions.

“I won’t,” you promise. “Besides, you’d just run me down again. You’re faster than me.”

This point seems to clear away any misgivings he had about retreating from crowding you against the ground. “Don’t want you to run.” Somehow he sounded sad beneath the gravel of his timbre.

“I ran because you scared me.” You prop yourself up enough to scoot back against the wall of the alcove he’d dragged you into.

His eyes lock onto yours and burn something truthful. “Don’t want to scare.”

It was this tentative olive branch between you that led to the next few days of one another’s company. If your group hadn’t found you yet, there was little hope that they would at all. So, you spent quiet nights together, eating whatever the man beast hunted and brought back for you. The weak fires you were able to light paled in comparison to the warmth of curling against him.

He’d stayed true to his word of not wanting to frighten you. As the weeks went by, you could sense in his movements that he was attempting to display an understanding of your hesitancies to get close to him. You could feel his form practically melt into yours when you finally gave into the magnetic pull each night and meshed your bodies together.

The first time you were intimate was entirely your doing. Watching the pacified creature sleep next to you, moonlight illuminating the breadth of him, you reached a hand to explore. He was so warm and firm and solid. You used the opportunity to unabashedly stare and ogle. So much of him was beastly creature, but so much of him conveyed man. 

You weren’t sure if he’d once been human and had somehow managed to cling onto sparse remnants of it all this time or if this is just how he'd always been. His speech had improved greatly over the past week in particular, but there was still a limit to what could be communicated.

Your hand drifted lower, cheeks tingling with heat as you skimmed between his hindlegs. You’d seen it, of course. He wasn’t clothed, never had been. But he much preferred walking about on all fours than upright most of the time, and you weren’t afforded many direct, uninterrupted views. Thankfully not the case now.

Much like the rest of him, it was impressive and a bit daunting. Thick, veined, and imposing, it rested gently against his thigh. He made a small sound in his sleep when you tried to take it into your hand. You couldn’t wrap around the whole of it, and it sent something hot and electric down your spine, a liquid flame of arousal that had you more awake than you’d been since he first caught you. He stirred at your motions, grunting and trembling breaths as he watched you curiously with half-lidded eyes.

“Feels good,” he slurs through sleep thickened vocal cords. “You make me feel so good.” The way he says it implies he means more than just in this moment – you always make me feel good.

Something otherworldly seems to take hold of you at this admission. Like something had finally shifted and locked into place. It feels right to give him that blanket of repose. It feels right to be here with him now like this, the furnace of his body listing closer to yours as if drawn by some invisible force.

“What if we…..?” You trail off, distracted by that almost human stirring in his eyes as he holds your gaze with an intensity that neither challenges nor frightens you. “What if we wanted to make each other feel good?”

He considers you quietly for a moment and slowly reaches a clawed pad of a hand to your face, advancing with a touch of eagerness when you don’t shy away. “It’s all I want to do.”

You lack the substantial breadth and heat of his indomitable form, but your skin feels alight all the same. You nod, an encouragement for him to proceed. The grit of his touch summons a wave of goosebumps over your body, a low gasp catching in your throat. It’s this sound that plumes into the surrounding air and wrenches it over you both like a weighted shroud. The world feels smaller, nonexistent except for the space you share.

“It’s all I want you to do,” you choke out.

The moonlight flashes against the ivories of his lethal jaw when his lip pulls back in a heated snarl. The tongue that had refined his speech over these past few weeks now wields itself into a binary slip against the column of your neck. There may as well be branding marks left in its wake, and you shiver at the combined sensation of being immersed in flame and frost all at once.

You pull at the wrap enclosure of your attire, mere scraps of what had once clothed you from the elements in what felt like a lifetime ago, and let it fall open to the wayside. An almost pained keening sound of appreciation vibrates through his chest, and his eyes cloud into that void of black, betraying any notion that this was merely man and not entirely beast.

The forked appendage slithers in separate directions, curling to meet in a spiral around your peaked nipple. You grab at his forearms and tug at the tussock of hair that first meets your grasp – anything to keep you from springing heavenward at the staggering and blinding paroxysmal bliss. His mouth drips with a viscous want onto your skin as he flicks and squeezes his tongue across your chest.

“Please,” you exhale. You gently push his head further down, and he growls at your anxious need for him to give you more.

“Pretty,” he grunts. “Pretty for me like this.”

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper, almost sounding on the verge of weeping at the sentiment and significance of whatever has been growing between you and now blossoms in the fertile soil of an infinite springtime.

You clench around nothing when you see the swell of blood that has fattened his cock while he was exploring you. It would be an unnerving consideration if you weren’t sure this was a predetermination of meeting, two souls binding into one. The silent communication and understanding passing between the two of you makes you wonder if you too will lose your speech over time – the practice of words lost to the redundancy of vocalizing to a being who has come to comprehend every thought and feeling you possess.

But for now you aren’t mute, a cry of pleasure spilling out as he sweeps his tongue inside your drenched hole. The tendrils of muscle dance on the ridged, spongey shape inside you. The spot begins to warm under his motions, a heat siphoning from his tongue as a rock awash in sunlight. A surreptitious and soft febrility that coaxes a release from you without any sort of warning. You erupt a cascade of fluid, an aquifer skillfully unearthed by his articulations.

He slurps and suckles at it with a voracious grizzle that rumbles from the recess of his barrel chest, whining when every last bead of it has been lapped up. He crouches above you, his imposing girth slapping against your mound. The entirety of it seeps a syrupy dribble, the warmed honey sensation dripping between your folds. He positions himself at your core and trembles at the anticipation of finally becoming fused to you.

You reach a hand between your legs and guide his bulky tip to the lip of your entrance.The balmy salve of his secretion draws a sigh from your mouth, and he whimpers as he licks into it. You clutch the span of his neck and shoulders as he eases inside of you.

The besoothing purl was not so great that it eased all the sting and pinch of accommodating him. Your breath catches when he slips far enough to nudge the mouth of your womb. You let out a sharp hiss when he pushes further, filling as much of you as he can. He groans when he reaches the terminal of your core. “Filled with me.” He says it in a heaving breath like he’s staked his claim.

“E-everywhere,” you blubber. “I feel you everywhere.”

“Feel you everywhere,” he echoes in a shared sentiment.

“I need you,” you choke out, wriggling your hips just enough to further the blissfully punishing effort of taking him. You whine at the involuntary spasm of your cunt swallowing and obliging the heft of him.

He groans at your deference, at the gentle surrender of yourself to him. “Mine,” he growls and rocks into you for the first time in earnest. It punches the air from your lungs, and you hold onto him tighter.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” you repeat as he ruts into you. His cadence stutters and becomes haphazard in its drive to mark you as his his his. You can feel each pulse of blood through his veiny cock as it rubs the velvet confines of your core. Your skin glistens with the strain of seating the bulk of it. Every curve and dip and slope of him dragged against your walls. Each drive pushed you closer and closer to another freefall. With one harsh drive of his cockhead against your cervix, your eyes flash wide open in a jolt.

The choking clench of your climax suspends his thrusts, walls locking down and ensnaring his length where it cleaves you in two. A euphoric sob escapes you as tears cloud your vision and you ride out your high. His own release comes quickly after yours with a cacophonous baying wail tearing through the still night.

The flood of him inside you curls and crests until it is met with no other place to go but out of your sticky, drooling hole. It rushes in a stream onto the ground, puddling around you with the missed droplets of your earlier outpouring. He cages you under his body like a precious gift to hide from the world and snivels in your ear.

You wrap an arm around him where you can and gently stroke the coarse scruff of his nape. “Ssshhh, I’m right here,” you soothe. You can sense his desperation, the need to maintain the intimacy of the moment. “We’ll stay just like this for a while, okay?”

He sighs and curls you into him, for comfort or safekeeping or maybe both. “Stay together. Mine.”

“Yes. I’m yours.”

He licks mindlessly at your neck to lull himself, and his chest slowly falls into a peaceful rhythm. You drift off long before he fully softens inside you.

This is my first True Monster smut fic imo, and I just have to say I think I get it guys lmao. I get to make him have magical dick juice? I'M IN. ~*~~*~WORLD BUILDING IS SO ENRICHING AND REWARDING FOR THE CREATIVE MIND~*~~*~*.

For other monster fucking fics, please check out @wannab-urs awesome compilation here. I also wanna specifically rec Oh, Honey by @lincolndjarin bc it is delicious.

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

[36n127e]

so damn humid 🥵💦

[momfeet74]

Heat & humidity make these stockings so wet and sticky. 🥰💦

[lacesconfidences]

Plaisirs entre filles…

Un après-midi, Christine nous a montré comment elle se servait du vibro de sa mère. C'était un vibro blanc, en plastique dur, un peu comme celui de la photo. Elle a commencé par ma sœur, en lui caressant les lèvres et le clito, sans la pénétrer car elle voulait 'rester neuve pour son mariage'. Ma sœur était bien humide au bout d'un moment, et moi je bandais à passer au travers de la culotte que j'avais gardé. Alors Christine s'est allongée sur le dos et a demandé à sa chérie de lui rentrer doucement le vibro dans la chatte en lui donnant son minou à lécher. Ma sœur s'est placée a califourchon sur le visage de Christine et a commencé les va et viens dans la chatte de sa chérie. Moi je m'étais mis face à cette petite chatte béante qui suçait ce gode vibrant. Quel merveilleux spectacle 💦💦💦😍 ! J'en ai déchargé presque instantanément dans ma culotte sans me branler 💦💦💦 A en croire leurs gémissements et leurs mouvements, je crois qu'elles m'ont suivi de peu 😉💦💦💦 Après ce premier plaisir, ma sœur a libéré le visage de Christine qui était rouge et tout mouillé et elles se sont embrassées💋💋💋. Puis Christine m'a regardé avec ma culotte trempée de foutre et m'a dit "Ma cochonne, tu as aimé le spectacle à ce que je vois ! Tu n'as pas envie d'essayer ? Pour toute réponse je me suis levée, j'ai laissé tomber ma culotte mouillée sur mes pieds et je lui ai tendu ma chatte en me cambrant et en prenant appui sur le fauteuil. Je ne voyais pas ce qu'elle faisait mais j'ai entendu le vibro redémarrer et je l'ai senti venir en douceur à l'entrée de mon petit trou. C'était une sensation nouvelle, très agréable. Je me suis contractée un peu par réflexe mais ma sœur m'a dit "Avec ce que Christine lui a mis comme mouille, il va glisser tout seul, laisse toi faire !" En effet, je l'ai senti rentrer bien au fond, avec les doigts de Christine qui butaient sur ma chatte. Et ces vibrations !💗💗💗💦 Et ces va et viens 💦💦 Je me sentais prise et c'était trop bon !!!! J'ai senti aussi montrer mon éjaculation alors j'ai dit à ma sœur de prendre de quoi absorber et elle m'a enveloppé le gland dans une serviette périodique, juste à temps encore une fois 💦💦💦💦 J'en ai redemandé souvent ensuite et je crois que nous avons consommé pas mal de piles électriques 😉😉

Fun between girls…

One afternoon, Christine showed us how she used her mother's vibrator. It was a white, hard plastic vibrator, a bit like the one in the photo. She started with my sister, caressing her lips and clit, without penetrating her because she wanted to 'stay virgin for her wedding'. My sister was very wet after a while, and I was hard enough to pass through the panties I had kept. So Christine lay down on her back and asked her sweetheart to gently insert the vibrator into her pussy while giving her her pussy to lick. My sister straddled Christine's face and started going back and forth in her sweetheart's pussy. I had put myself in front of this gaping little pussy that was sucking this vibrating dildo. What a wonderful sight 💦💦💦😍! I unloaded almost instantly in my panties without jerking off 💦💦💦 Judging by their moans and movements, I think they followed me shortly 😉💦💦💦 After this first pleasure, my sister released Christine's face which was red and all wet and they kissed💋💋💋. Then Christine looked at me with my panties soaked with cum and said to me "My slut, you liked the show I see! Don't you want to try? For all answer I got up, I let my wet panties fall on my feet and I offered her my pussy by arching my back and leaning on the chair. I didn't see what she was doing but I heard the vibrator start up again and I felt it come gently to the entrance of my little hole. It was a new sensation, very pleasant. I contracted a little by reflex but my sister said to me "With what Christine put in it as wetness, it will slide all by itself, let yourself go!" Indeed, I felt it go deep inside, with Christine's fingers hitting my pussy. And those vibrations! 💗💗💗💦 And those back and forths 💦💦 I felt taken and it was so good!!!! I also felt my ejaculation showing so I told my sister to take something to absorb and she wrapped my glans in a sanitary towel, just in time again 💦💦💦💦 I asked for more often after that and I think we used up quite a few electric batteries 😉😉

[osaka-mokichi2024]

It's so humid today💦

[rosewaterandivy]

9. part-time soulmate, full-time problem

Summary: Rumor has it, that hometown hero-turned-teacher Steve Harrington is hot for teacher. The English teacher next door to him at Hawkins High, who also happens to be his childhood friend, that is.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x chaotic!dumbass reader

Warnings: No use of y/n - reader goes by the nickname Trouble instead, cursing, sexual situations - SMUT & idolatry (my usual bullshit), we think we’re ~prank Sinatra~ to disastrous effect i.e. a fake elopement, Modern!Teacher AU, English teacher reader, History teacher Steve, slow burn, friends to lovers, romance.

A/N: hey girl, u up? lemme come thru 💦💦💦 🥵🥵🥵 *slaps roof of fic* You can fit so much reverence and smut in this bad boy. Here’s 5.1K of pure filth and debauchery, holy water can’t help me now! Poetry excerpt from Sue Zhao. 18+ mature content (minors dni). Reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated, please let me know what you thought; enjoy & thanks for reading! 💜

series masterlist | playlist - newly updated!

Steve's playlist for Trouble: trouble will find me

previous || next

Now, Spring Break, Joshua Tree, CA ➡️ Las Vegas, NV 

“You did what?”

And it’s not a question, not by a long shot. 

If Nancy Wheeler wasn’t some 1,800 miles from you, you’d be seeing the patented snarl right now. The one that says ‘you’ll be dead by my hand and my hand alone.’

There’s a very real possibility that you’ve overplayed your hand this time. What started as a prank, a harmless lark, had devolved into one screeching phone call from Steve’s mother for him and a blistering series rapid-fire of texts for you, followed by a phone call during which Nancy was going to rip you a new asshole.

She didn’t appreciate your texts as you’d hoped.

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: so BDE is not *just* an energy with Steve. got it, good to know.

Natty light 💯: She lives! We haven’t heard from you in days. Wtf did you idiots do?

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: nothing to be concerned about! on an unrelated note, before you check insta remember that i am your BESTIE and you would miss me terribly(!!!) if i died, even if it was at your own hand

Natty light 💯: … I’m going to kill you, and resurrect your dessicated corpse so I can strangle you … slowly and painfully

Trouble 👁️👄👁️: pls mother, no, i’m scared

But hey, it’s not like you woke up and decided to potentially fuck up your life today.

So, yeah. Definitely went too far with it this time, but in your defense, it’s not like anyone was there to reign you in. Steve was just as liable to go on with your half-cocked schemes, even more so now that you could sit back on your heels, all pretty smiles and wide, sweet eyes as your hands unbuckle his belt, still supplicated with chin on his knee, “You said anything...”

Folded like a house of cards the second you got your mouth on him. Shudders when you begin with your tongue first before eager lips stretch to fit him, guiding until he’s nestled in your mouth. And then you move, deliberately measured, building a lazy pace, sluicing him up with spit.

“Ah, shit…” Steve’s words are already betraying him. You smile as his cock pops out of your mouth.

“How’s that? Still wanna make that dinner reservation?” Thick lashes framing glittering doe-eyes peer up at him. Purposely coy. “Or do you want to stay here?”

He returns to himself. Dazed, he blinks at the bright lights and the glossy tiled floor. The marble countertop of the sink where he grips like a lifeline.

The restroom down the hall of the restaurant. Turn a corner and twenty people are sitting at tables, drinking cocktails and cajoling. Your mouth back on him wipes the thoughts from his brain.

Squelching when you push him back past your molars, crushing your tongue.

You slide him out, voice hoarse and breathy and it chills him to the bone the way you whisper, “C’mon baby, let’s have some fun.”

The second day in California runs a lot more smoothly, and the third day is as easy as a breeze. Granted, it’s a hot, humid, sticky type of desert breeze as you wipe a hand across your forehead in the heat of the day.

Steve hums a patient tune, leans back on both palms and you watch the sunlight drape his bare chest in a warm flare. Glowing gold and bronze as if it’s transmuted from the hue in his very eyes.

He is hard and hot when your bare skin touches his. Steve lies down on his side to face you, panting slightly as you glide your hand up and down his arm. Oh fuck, it’s been months and the first man you touch is more like something carved by a master sculptor of Renaissance than any other man. It should be illegal for someone to look this good.

Trembling, you touch the hard planes of his torso, the ridges in his abdomen, the swell of his chest taking hard breaths. You shut your eyes and imagine the way he looks right now—breathless and wild. His knee parts your legs easily and one hand descends to feel your center, saturating your underwear.

“Jesus, baby,” Steve sighs into your neck. “You’re makin’ me crazy. This–” He begins to slide his digits up and down, getting the slippery wetness all over his fingers, “Already…”

A shudder rolls through your body upon hearing his words and you arch into his touch, moaning when he rubs your clit in perfect pulsing circles. He moves forward, kissing the tops of your breasts through your bra, nipping at the soft flesh spilling from the cups.

“Steve, you’ll make me come.” You admit, a little shyly even as your hips rock consciously into his hand. You paw at his arms, squeezing the ridges of muscles.

And you’re abruptly startled awake by the sound your own moans. It’s past four in the morning when you rouse from sleep, frustrated to leave behind the pleasant escape the dream provided.

Damn it all to hell.

A creak of the wood door alerts you to his arrival. Steve is quiet when he sits on your bed, one knee pulled up to his chest while the other leg slinks down by your side, thigh brushing yours where your legs kicked off the covers. A sigh rolls through him at the early hour.

There is discomfort. His body retreats with the shift of your atmosphere. Always too itchy in your own skin. Afraid of being seen, noticed, thought about. He’s good at hearing your silence. Good at reading your language.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

He glistens like a god come to drown you in the sweetest of dreams. It makes your heart plummet to its death at the thought of his departure when you shake your head.

“Me neither.”

He lays back on your bed with a tired sigh, close enough to touch. Your own personal wonder.

“C’mere then,” you tug him to your side. Steve presses his lips to your neck, smiles into the wispy hair at the nape, nuzzles your locks aside to reveal more shoulder. Breathing soft and slow with his face against your neck, chest to your chest. He’s folded and tucked against you, all his strength and gravity nestled to your side.

“Honey—” Steve murmurs, more purposefully now, rasps your name, so soft and reverent you almost don’t hear it.

A confused noise, a second of readjustment to a new position, to his touch, and then you stir and purr.

“Hey, you.” Voice like warm fire, even with disrupted sleep from past few days.

A heavy silence falls between you.

Tell me what you’re thinking. If it was a mistake, tell me. If it wasn’t, tell me. You’ve been avoiding me and look—I want your goddamn babies, but c’mon. You gotta throw me a bone, I’m shit at reading signs.

He wants to take you to pieces, eyes roving your sleep-drowsy form, shorts rucked up on your thighs, shirt askew. Would devour you whole if you’d let him, savor your cries and moans at his capable hands. Make a ruin you only to build you right back up, unable to think of anyone else save him.

Steve arches, brushing the tip of his nose against your chin, up to your own nose, mouth hovering but not quite touching, just feeling each other’s atmosphere. You cross the distance and kiss him, grip tighter now like he could collapse right into you and god, you wish he could. Let you keep every last bit of him forever.

“Can we—”

You savor his lips, caressing the line of his cupid’s bow with your own, tongue flicking over the corners of his mouth, punctuating it chastely like a ritual. He moans, hand on the plane of your back moving, fingers scrambling at your spine before he palms your thigh and slots you flush against his torso with one leg hooked around his waist.

“God yes. Lemme just—”

He tugs at the waistband of your sleeping shorts before he changes his mind and his hands slip into the leg opening of the silk instead, keeping you right where you are. He rucks his own sweats down, just enough to spring himself free, shushing your whines, never letting you get too far, slipping upward, finding your heat.

“Eyes on me, baby.”

“Okay, Steve—ah—”

Right. So this is happening. Like, right the fuck now. 

Oh god.

You’re both surprised and terrified, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too. A beatific grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and slowly glide yourself down his considerable size, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

Steve stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

A half-hearted cluck of your tongue gives way to a low moan and you shuffle, flush against his chest, bare bodies warm and growing hotter now. Your palm rubs down his chest, savoring the rougher feel of his hairs there, contrasting your own skin, grasping his jutting hipbones, the strong plane of his abdomen.

Eager fingers slip between flesh. Velvet and surprisingly slick and wrapping around his digits like syrupy flower petals. “Baby girl,” Steve hums at the way you sigh. “Pretty girl.”

Shudders. You’re weak and boneless, slack and supple, pliant to his fingers and words. Little sweet-talker, you never knew he had such a clever tongue until he first slid it against yours in that fevered kiss in December. Now he’ll know all your weaknesses, know every lock and how to pick them until you’re all the way opened up for him.

It’s hard to focus when he’s like this. Perfectly warm. Perfectly adoring. Perfectly fitted. So, so bright with the faintest pink bursting over his cheeks.

You whimper with his every stroke. Every plunge. His other hand runs itself up the nape of your neck, fingertips in your scalp and you arch like a cat for more. 

“So good,” Steve praises, “Nice and tight, squeezin’ around me. All wet for me, aren’t you?” 

“Uh— mhm.” Inarticulate noises. Woozy and wrapped in his affection.

His eyes– pupils blown wide, half-hooded with lust and love– immobilize you, memorizing every inch of your face. He smiles. Christ, a smile that could launch a thousand ships. That could blind the whole world.

You curse quietly, blood pounding in your ears, your chest, your throat where he latches on with his perfect mouth, marking you up with his spit quickly followed by his teeth.

“Keep going—oh, don’t stop–“

“You want it like this, honey?” He sucks on your collar, on your shoulder, taking every whimper and cry as a command to continue.

They flower all over your chest. Red and purple and swollen bright for everyone to see—just like him. And the very thought of him, of you, lost to it takes you over the edge, calling his name like you’re at an altar in supplication.

“That’s it, honey. Be a good girl and come for me.”

With a tremble that vibrates all the way to into Steve’s soul, you obey. Onto his hips and abdomen, gushing a little, and with some embarrassment that it happened all so quickly. 

Your lids flutter open and you see as Steve hitches himself deeper, grinding his hips, gripping your thighs, and fills you all the way up until the stars behind your eyes whites out your vision, making you stutter and keen as you continue to fall apart.

Then he stills, pulling you even closer, body slick with dew in the early morning light. The two of you lie in perfect symmetry, trembling in each other’s arms.

And because you’re a sap with too much poetry rattling around your brain, all that pops into your head is:

In my dreams I am kissing your mouth and you’re whispering ‘where have you been?’ I say, ‘I’ve been lost but I’m here now. You’re the only person who has ever been able to find me.’

You allow yourself to sink into the feeling, expecting the tight fit of something new but finding that not to be the case at all. But rather brushing against something well-worn, as if it had been waiting for you all this time. 

“God, Steve—” you rasp. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

Steve laughs low, kisses the blooming bruises up and down your neck, makes you whine again, sensitive and aching. His clever tongue wonders sweetly, “How’s staying in bed all day sound?”

You laugh. He’ll learn everything you like. Know all your weaknesses. How can you say no to something like that?

It’s different, almost tender in the afternoon. 

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Steve begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s powerless against you.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Stevie.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Steve holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet, you just started back up again after a late breakfast, having slept soundly through the morning, and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second–”

Using the position you’re already in, he pushes you up against the mattress and guides you back down, hitching your thighs around his hips, sinking a bit at a time until you’re landing on him with a gasp. He eases into you with what he hopes is restraint, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Eddie?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a series of hook ups. A few times over the years—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Steve wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking down below him, tipping back into the pillows, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Baby, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Steve promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Steve could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

Two weeks prior…

“Eddie…tell me the truth,” You ask slowly, folding clothes (well, that’s a generous term— it’s more haphazardly tossing and bundling laundry into your open suitcase). “It’s good, isn’t it? Shawty, tell me what that thang do!” 

You waggle your brows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Steve thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with the most recent episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Half-keeping an eye on you to make sure you actually pack actual pajamas and pants for this trip. 

“Dude. Stop it.” Eddie groans, knowing you’re all too familiar with his endowments and prowess from previous experience.

Whomever currently was getting the Eddie Munson midnight special was having a helluva time. 

You lob a pair of leggings toward your suitcase, “Kobe!”

You miss.

Eddie cackles, “How’re you gonna disrespect a legend like that, and miss?!”

“Okay!” Steve yells, pushing you off the couch in the living room, “That’s enough of that. I’m going for a run.”

Landing on your shoulder with a grunt, you brush away the rough sting of the carpet and catch the last second of his shadow before he’s gone from the room.

“What?” You call, projecting your voice and hoping he hears, “What’d I do? Steve!”

The scrape of the chair legs signals Eddie standing up, too. A shake of his head and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You know,” he starts, “For all your insight, you’re pretty dense.”

There’s nothing in your head but sawdust and thoughts about his… activities under the sheets his flavor of the month. You shake it out of your brain before it lingers too long. Eddie points sharply down the hall to where Steve’s shadow has slipped out of view and hearing-distance.  

“You know he likes you, right?”

Uh? Your brain is the mac loading wheel, just spinning. “Of course he does? We’re buddies?”

Eddie cuffs you in the back of the head, “Get it together. Like is putting it lightly, too. Love is closer to the truth.”  

“Now,” Eddie leans over you, menacing you with his height. “How about you go listen to the record he gave you and think about what you’ve done, hmm?”

Then, he saunters off, shaking his head all the while, leaving you to gape down the hall like a fish. Steve? In love? With you?  

Flashes explode in your brain like fireworks. His jacket over your shoulders—not the first time. Sitting underneath your legs— nearly tradition. Morning errand runs even though he hates them. The banter—him, scolding your motor-mouth, you— never stopping. Circles he rubs on your knees— the laughter—damn it, so much laughter.

Steve? In love? With you? It’s more likely than you think.

Back in your bedroom and chastened, you wait until the front door closes signaling Steve’s exit. Turning to the wall dedicated to your impassioned analytical skills, you eye the various colors of yarn showing the various connections that could be drawn from the song choice and order in which they were placed. 

Printed out pages of lyrics have been annotated to death, some phrases scrawled more largely than others for importance. You stare at the wall for the better part of an hour, long enough to come to the end of the playlist. Sufjan Stevens rhapsodizes on the mystery of love and fades into Matt Berninger singing how he needs his girl.

A gasp. A choke and a wail somewhere deep inside your chest as you slowly, methodically begin removing the pins and pages from your wall. Realization settling on you heavy with mood. 

Clearly, this was not some bush-league bullshit.  

Hesitant, but growing in the knowledge that Steve, your best friend whom you annoy to no end, is irrefutably and undeniably in love with you. You’d have seen it sooner if you weren’t such a dumbass, all the signs had been there just lying in wait. The front door opens once more, his voice calling out to Robin in the kitchen about dinner. 

“Steve.” You light out of your room, tearing down the hallway. “Stevie! Steve! I’m sorry! Steve oh my god! I’m a fuckup!”  

You trip on the corner of the floor runner, as he turns, slightly confused, one hand reaching out to catch you as you careen into his chest with a thunk.

You must look a wreck, hair in disarray and panting hard, him sweat-slick, bearing your weight as he sets you right on your feet.  

Steve raises an eyebrow, blinks at the way the front of your shirt slides from your shoulder and takes his ear buds out, looking at you like you’re a first-rate idiot.

And well ... he’s not wrong.

The flight to Vegas is painless, though you are put out at having to leave the love nest that bloomed like a night flower in the Californian desert. A lazy, slow start to the day. Sticky and sweet like biting into a ripe peach, juices flowing down against sun-warmed skin. 

His hand pulling at yours, guiding you through the crowds of the airport, looking back to you frequently, as if he can’t bring himself not to. One hour later and viva, Las Vegas!

As it turns out, it’s fairly easy to fake a Vegas elopement. Just a matter of subterfuge and a wedding chapel, which are a plenty in Clark County. Steve in a suit (“You weren’t even wearing a tie, Steven! Who gets married looking like that!?”), rotating the signet of his ring out of sight, the ‘H’ resiting against the underside of his ring finger so just the band was visible. 

You in a dress, something white and off the rack from Neiman’s, your ring, courtesy of Steve, moved from your right hand to your left. Sapphire earrings as your something blue, Manolo Blahnik pumps in your favorite color, a gift from Steve, as your something new.

A well-timed call to Jonathan, he was in town for a shoot and just so happened to have a few hours to kill. An appointment at the Graceland Wedding Chapel and 250 dollars later, you have yourself a believable elopement, no marriage certificate required. 

Even drove out to the Red Rock Mojave desert outside of town for a photoshoot courtesy of one Jonathan Byers, professional photographer. By the time you’d made it back to your room at the Wynn that night, he’d already done a rough edit of a few photos for you to post to the ‘gram. Piece of cake, really.

It was all well and good. Steve even let you tag him and posted his favorite images himself, miracle of miracles. The man does jack shit with social media, claims he only has the account for the groupchats and memes. Captioned it something like ‘married AF’ because he’s a dork; first photo in the carousel was a shot of your hands, showing off the new bling with the wedding chapel sign in the background.

You opted for the more truthful, ‘ew, boy. you’re, like, obsessed with me’ and selected a photo where your legs wrapped around Steve’s hips after he’d told you to ‘time to giddy-up, yeah?’ with a wink and caught you in his arms before kissing you stupid. You were quite pleased with yourself until the phones began to ring.

“Jus’ ignore it, honey.” His teeth pull against your bottom lip, bringing your attention back to him. You screw your eyes shut, hand falling to cup the nape of his neck as his lips continue their mapping of your skin. Purposefully, he plays with a lock of your hair, tucks it behind your ear, and lets his finger ghost over your neck. “Gonna kiss you now,” you murmurs, “Doin’ some of my best work here and you’re missing it.”

He pouts.

Your throat clenches, bobbing with a thick swallow and Steve thinks if this wasn’t so tender and sweet, he’d be latching onto that pulse instead. “Okay…” Your mouth parts expectantly, eyes fluttering closed, hand coming up to caress his jaw.

It’s sublime. It’s perfect. It’s the biggest relief he’s ever felt when you return his touch—parting your lips to receive the tip of his tongue against yours. Thirst. Desperation. Enthusiastic limbs scrambling to feel more of him. A bucking of your hips against his thigh and he’s soaring up into heaven with the sensation.

Except the damn phone won’t stop ringing. 

“Steve,” you pant, hand reaching up to fist his hair and pull him from your the sensitive spot he’s located behind your ear. As you tangle your fingers in his mane of hair, securing your grip with a tug, he breaks contact with your slick skin with a strangled moan.

Oh.

You file that particular reaction away for further investigation and direct his attention to the loudly ringing phone on the nightstand. He rolls off of you with an exasperated noise and answers the call in a sulk. “Hi, Ma.”

His expression changes so quickly you nearly have whiplash; lazy and pouty one moment to shocked silent in the next while his mother lectures him, a mile a minute. Eyes cutting to you, he grabs your phone from the same table and holds it in font of you to unlock it via Face ID. You roll your eyes and bat him away, taking a slug of water from the glass on your bedside table.

“Shit,” Steve mutters, putting himself on mute and his mom on speaker as he scrolls through your phone. “Holy fucking shit, nonono.”

You lean over and take a peek. He’s thumbing through Facebook, pupils blown wide in shock at the sheer number of notifications on his accidental post. Because yes, Steve accidentally cross-posted the photos from Instagram to Facebook as an update, like genius. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?”

He drops your phone on the bed when it starts to ring, like it’s a venomous thing that could take him down in one strike. 

Sheepishly, he looks to you and mouths ‘I’m so sorry’ as he returns to his mother’s raging diatribe. 

After checking the caller ID, you answer, voice flat. “Hello.”

“You little scamp,” Eddie tuts, “Stole my idea of eloping in Vegas and everything, I hate you.”

In spite of yourself, you crack a smile. “It’s a prank, babe.” A sigh as you pull your hair up and off of your shoulders. “Not legally binding at all. Having Byers on deck really sold the idea though.”

“You are the absolute worst, Trouble.” You warm at his soft laughter, “What’d you do to get Steve to agree? Drop to you knees all nice and pretty?”

A swell of pride accompanies the rush of heat at the thought of your earlier rendezvous. “Y’know Eds, I did exactly that. How perceptive of you.”

He cackles. “It’s tried and true for a reason, babe.” Steve is nodding furiously at whatever his mother is yammering on about, bare back toward you as he sits on the edge of the bed. 

A push and a slide across the rumpled sheets and you’ve wrapped around him like a vine. His thumb rubs at your ankle, pulling your leg to envelop his hip. Opposite arm dangling across his chest as you press your face into his neck, revelling in his scent—cypress, vetiver, and something slight musky tinged with salt. All warm and pliable.

“Nance may have called in some reinforcements.” Eddie says carefully. “I told her to fuck off, but she’s beyond reason at this point.”

“Whaddya mean?”

He sighs, “Just be on the lookout for an angry lesbian, alright?”

You snort, drawing Steve’s attention. He twists in your hold, phone discarded on the table finally, fingers trailing tantalizingly up and down your sides. Pushes you back against the bed, chin resting on your sternum as you talk with Eddie, head tilted as he listens.

Begging off the phone call, you say your goodbyes. “Hey,” Eddie says before you go, voice soft and warm, “You happy babe? You sound it.”

“Yeah,” you turn your head and grin at the ridiculousness of your life. Steve follows your lips, his own blazing a trail across your chest and up to meet your shoulder. “I’m really happy, Eds.”

Steve plucks the phone from your hand, “Bye Munson!” He sings before ending the call and unceremoniously dropping your phone on the floor.

And Steve never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Steve’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Robin swings it open and Steve is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” She hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Rob!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a shirt, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Steve is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Robin whispers again, “Oh… my god.” She sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” she hisses, before screaming, “Oh fuck no! I’m here picking your asses up. Got on a flight at ass o'clock from Indy— you're butt-ass-naked in here—” She stands ram-rod straight, hands on her hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on you.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Rob!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m exhausted! And well— you're exhausted too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

She snickers, high-fiving herself before crossing her arms, “Now get your freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Harrington’s dick.”

You pat her on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Robin dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Steve closes the door to the now-silent hotel room, damp with sweat and the lingering aroma of musk. Robin trots on ahead, leading the pair of you through the lobby and out into the dry desert heat.

His hand pulls at yours, reassuring and warm. A small smile blooms across your face and you allow yourself to revel in it for a moment: heading home with Steve, can't even bring yourself to be all that mad at Robin's antics.

Not when he turns back to check on you, all tan skin and that devastating smile. Tugs you closer as Robin flags down the Uber, lays his lips against yours, and kisses you with a sweetness only he could bring.

Oh yeah, you think tangling your free hand in his shirt. This'll do just fine.

[saayawolf]

Begonia 'Moonlight Butterfly' 🦋🌕✨

—

Care Guide

🌞 Light: Keep it in bright, indirect light. Harsh sunlight can scorch its stunning leaves, so indirect is the way to go!

🌱 Soil: A well-draining, rich potting mix will keep those roots happy. It loves soil with lots of organic matter!

💧 Water: The soil should stay consistently moist, but not soggy. Allow the top inch to dry out a bit between waterings to avoid overwatering.

🌡️ Temperature: Ideal temps range between 65-80°F (18-27°C). Begonia doesn't like the cold, so keep it warm and away from drafts.

💦 Humidity: Loves moderate to high humidity! Mist its leaves regularly or place it near a humidifier for best results.

🌿 Fertilizer: Feed monthly during the growing season with a diluted liquid fertilizer to encourage healthy growth and vibrant foliage.

[hyumjim]

omg did you start sweating really bad after starting hormones? ive been on it for years and havent made that connection but im so sweaty now that it soaks my hair and its so embarrassing.... i used to wear hoodies in the Georgia heat and now im crawling on all fours when i have to stand in direct sunlight in Oregon 🤒💦

YES and it’s just starting to get really hot in nyc and the humidity is KILLING MEEEE btw my skin type changed entirely I need to get a different moisturizer cause I touched my face the other day and my palm came up SOAKING WET just from sitting in the house with the fan on????? Bitch disGOSTING. i am an oil slick!!! and i dont think there is a deodorant in the world that can actually help my sweat situation. AND I GET HOT FLASHES BECAUSE I AM WHAT??? GOING THROUGH MENOPAUSE. YAAAASSSSS!!!!!

[girafeduvexin]

Immense mood.