#i’m in my lovergirl era almost always

[hungharrington]

Thinking about Steve cumming quickly - like under 30 seconds of thrusting because he's just so in love with you he couldn't help it

He hides his face in your neck afterwards all embarrassed and you rub his back to bring him back down from the intensity of it all

To add to this - he also has certain triggers that make him cum immediately.

You say you love him, he cums. You scratch at his tummy/happy trail, he cums. You gently pull on his hair, he cums.

My apologies if these thoughts have already been given but it's all I've been thinking about this morning 😭😭

a most delicious ask i’ve been hoarding 🫶 i LOVE all these thoughts i’m sry i didn’t get to incorporate all of them !! is this hot? idk…. but it’s got sum love in it tehe MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Look, Steve Harrington doesn’t have his reputation for nothing, okay?

He’s a ladies man, through and through. He knows exactly what he’s doing with his hands, he loves getting his face in between a pair of thighs, and perhaps most importantly, he is not a minute man.

Steve Harrington has stamina.

At least, he certainly thought he did— but that was before you. But in his defense, nobody told him that sex is a hundred times better when you love the person. A thousand better if they love you back.

And, god, does he fucking love you.

You’re a dream— all laid out on the bed beneath him, chest bare and eyes soft and heavy. Your lips are sheened with spit and all kiss-bitten and Steve has no doubt he looks the same. Kissing you never gets old. His cock throbs, aching for some friction and just begging to be buried inside you.

“Well?” You say, somewhere between a tease and a breathy gasp. “What’re you waiting for?”

Your fingers slip into the waistband of your panties but Steve is quick to knock them away, replacing them with his own hands. He grins up at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Can’t let you do my favourite part now, can I?”

You giggle. With that his fingers start to trail down your naval, slow and sensually, dragging the fabric with them. Your hips move to accommodate him and your breath hitches as he drags them down your thighs that part as he wrangles them off your ankles, inviting him in.

Steve nearly groans at the mere sight—a hot surge twisting in his tummy that goes straight to his cock. God, he must be losing blood with how much blood is rushing to harden it up. Or maybe he’s just too enamoured with you and that’s enough to make him breathless. Either way, he’s aching.

“God, baby,” He says, voice gravelly. “Just look at you.”

His hands shift up from grasping lightly at your ankles up, up, up, til he’s nudging your thighs apart further. His dark eyes flick up to your face, his expression one of hunger.

“Y’so pretty, honey,” He coos.

You flush, feeling somehow more naked at his compliment, knowing he’s being sincere. Reaching up, you drape your hand around his neck and urge him forward slowly, pressing up to scrape your lips against his.

“Oh, yeah?” You breathe, your lips twitching up at the obvious way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. “Which part of me’s so pretty?”

Steve chuckles, his gaze switching between your own and says, “All of you,” before he kisses you like he’s starved of the taste of you.

Breaking the kiss, he leans back and his hand disappears into his bedside table for a condom. He makes quick work of it, pausing to give himself a firm squeeze around the base as he does— fuck, he’s going to bust the moment he gets inside of you if he doesn’t take a moment.

But you’re so damn hot — and eyeing him with a heavy desire that makes his tummy hot. He’s not sure he can wait.

He shifts himself up and settles on his hands on your thigh, pushing it back further so he can line himself up and sink in tantalisingly slow. Your cunt is warm and wet, drawing a whiny moan from his throat, and Steve’s head drops into the curve of your shoulder in an instant.

“Fuck,” He hisses, hips flexing to hold back from pushing himself all the way in—a near impossible task considering the breathy little noise you make. God, fuck, fuck, he can’t move another inch or he’ll lose it. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” He gasps.

Your arms looped around his neck tighten, pressing your chest up against his as you make a noise of agreement. You begin to mouth lazily up his throat, feeling the throb of his cock between your legs like a heartbeat, burning hotter and hotter.

“Cmon, Steve,” you whisper, nibbling at his earlobe. Steve keens, his hips shoving forward bit more as he tries to contain himself. “Want you to fuck me,”

He makes another pitiful noise that he’d probably be embarrassed of if he wasn’t so gone. He follows your instructions quickly, shifting his hips so he can start slowing fucking into you. It’s lewd, soft wet noises sounding as he builds up a rhythm, sinking himself into you over and over. Pleasure drools through his gut.

“Stevie,” you pout, panting lightly. “Can’t— can’t see you,” You tug on his hair lightly, trying to encourage his face out of hiding but only succeeding in making him whimper. His cheeks burn hotly but he forces his face up, kissing along your jaw as he does.

His eyes crease open as he pulls back and Steve keens at the sight of you, his plush lips parting in a soft pant. Fuck, what was wrong with him? Normally he’d be still murmuring filthy things into your skin, marking up your neck while his hips roll into you, all does that feel good? and oh, it does when you moan in response.

Instead, he’s the one coming apart and beyond his words. You scrape your hand through his hair again and leave it cupped sweetly on his jaw, your eyes watching closely. Swatching your thumb across his cheek, you moan lightly, “Wanna -uh- wanna see your face, baby— love your pretty face,”

Something tightens up in Steve’s tummy, heat flourishing up his spine and he whimpers loudly, the roll of his hips turning the rapid, jerky thrusts in a moment. Skin slaps against skin and you make the cutest noise at the change of pace. It feels so good—too good. He feels too close, his pleasure scratching the edge of release.

Then you stutter out a breathy, “I love you, Steve,” and the coil in his stomach snaps without warning.

Steve gasps loudly and his entire body tightens, his face burying itself in you neck as his hips fuck into your snug cunt desperately. He all but collapses onto you, his hands curling around your waist tightly as he lets out a string of pathetically whiny noises, coming undone far too quickly.

It takes a moment for you to realise what’s happened— to figure out exactly why Steve suddenly sinks him cock into you with fervor and is whimpering in your ear. He’s trembling lightly you realise, as your arms sweep down his back, letting him fuck through his orgasm.

The pleasure of it drags out and by the time it tapers out, mortification begins to set in. Steve’s only glad he’s hidden his face so you can’t see his flaming cheeks. Fuck. Fuck. He’s never finished that fast before.

“I’m so sorry, you just feel— and you said—” He starts, voice sounding wrecked.

“Don’t apologise,” you interrupt sweetly. You stroke down his back soothingly and Steve can’t help but shiver. He groans loudly.

“Don’t apologise for finishing after 1 minute like a 16 years old virgin?” He asks, going for sarcastic but failing with the embarrassment tinting his tone.

You can’t help but giggle, hand still sweeping over his back comfortingly as you say, “I don’t think that was even a minute, babe.”

Steve groans louder, attempting to press his face further into your neck and nipping at it when you laugh a little louder. You’re being way too sweet about this. Steve’s not sure he can ever show his face again.

“I’m banning you from saying ‘i love you’ in bed,” He says, the words muffled against your skin. You huff another laugh, grinning, and comb your fingers through his hair.

“Boo.” You pout, knowing he’s joking completely. You’re still throbbing and aching for him to keep moving but you know you only have to be patient. He’ll fuck you just as you need it. “You’re no fun.”

“I used to have stamina,” He whines. “What have you done to me?”

You chuckle again, turning and pressing a kiss to his temple as best you can. “Turned you full loverboy. Soon enough, any time I say I love you, you’ll pop a boner.”

From within you, you feel the soft twitch of his dick and Steve’s breath hitches again. He finally digs his face out of your neck, a serious furrow between his brows. “Don’t even joke about that!”

[softguarnere]

Like A Girl (Like A Man)

Shifty Powers x OFC

Chapter 10: Someone Who Will Miss You

Summary: “Donadagohvi,” he tells her. Until we meet again.

A/N: Early update for this week! Call it a little celebration for spring break or something, I don't know. There are like three different things in this chapter I almost cut because they hurt my feelings to write, so . . . take that as you will 🫶🏼

Warnings: war, discussions of grief and death, religious imagery, language, mentions of the boarding school era

Taglist: @latibvles @mrs-murder-daddy @liebgotts-lovergirl @lieutenant-speirs

Uppottery, England, 1944

My dear baby,

I should have expected that you would be leaving. Part of me hoped that you would push through, but I think we both know that you’ve been doing that for far too long; there comes a time when you can’t hold on to the things that hurt you anymore and you have to let them go.

Maybe you don’t remember it, but after Granny died, you told me that you would never stop being lonely without her. Then you stopped seeming to care about almost everything. I should have seen the signs and known that you were already gone. That doesn’t mean it was any less of a shock to see you go that morning.

I don’t know where you’ve gone. I think I know why, though, and I understand. Or at least, I’m trying to. Matthew and Marilyn told me when they were ready to leave, and then they went. You’ve been wanting to leave since you were small. And then one morning, you did. I just wish that I had gotten to say a proper goodbye to you. I miss you more than words can express.

Now I’m the one who’s lonely. All of my children have gone to make their own way in the world, and all of my family live far away. But there’s a secret to being lonely – one I should have taught you earlier: the people you love never truly leave you. They will always be there, tucked away in your fondest memories, and the love shared will stay alive in your heart, no matter the distance or worlds between you.

You are still in my heart, wherever you are. Just like I know that Granny is in yours. She is with all of us, but especially you – she thought the moon shone over your head. Listen to her when she talks to you. She’ll never lead you astray. She will always be there for you, to protect you. And I will protect you if you ever come home.

I hope you will. I would give anything to see you again, to have all my children under one roof . . . Even for just a moment.

I’m not mad that you left. If it’s fear keeping you away, I want you to know that I will defend the choice you made to leave unannounced. I won’t let anything happen to you.

Wherever you are and wherever you go, I hope that you’re happy, and that you found what you’ve been looking for. I hope you don’t feel lonely anymore. I hope you don’t have to feel lonely ever again. Someday, you will find your place. We all do eventually. And that is what makes it all worth it.

You will find your place. But in the meantime, you will always have a place here to return to if you need it. I hope I will get to hug you soon.

Gvgeyui

Tsatsi

Sunlight glints off the toes of her well-polished Corcoran boots as she sits on an abandoned crate, feet stretched out in front of her. The only thing keeping the telltale prickling sensation from becoming strong enough to turn into a stream of tears is focusing on the sunlight, moving her feet back and forth to watch it dance off of them. Back and forth, back and forth.

Granny had been a fluent Cherokee speaker. Zenie’s conversational skills are limited, since she was only learning it during the short time they lived together. Her Mama speaks even less than she does, since the boarding school she was forced to attend as a child stole the language right out of her mouth and shoved it full of English instead. Looking at the end of the letter, it looks like they couldn’t take it out of her heart.

Gvgeyui: I love you. Tsatsi: your mother.

Even if they could take it from her lips, it still lives within her, somewhere, just like the sister the school stole from her at the same time.

Back and forth, back and forth.

The envelope was so thick because it contained the note from Bobby, the letter from her mother, and pictures. One of Matthew and Marilyn when they were finishing high school, standing in front of the brick building. Marilyn looks tall and proud. Matthew looks relieved.

Back and forth, back and forth.

One of Granny. It must have been taken around the time that Zenie was born, because she’s younger and healthier looking then when she lived with them. But she’s still Granny.

Back and forth, back and forth.

The last one is of Mama. She’s sitting out in the yard on a sunny day, holding an infant Zenie. Marilyn leans into Mama’s right side, grinning big for the camera. Matthew, on the left, is giving Zenie a curious look, like he can’t quite figure her out.

Back and forth, back and –

The tent opens rather abruptly and then falls shut again. Bill stands in front of it, panting, his eyes darting across the airfield but appearing to take in nothing. He pauses for a moment, then storms past where Zenie is sitting. His footsteps echo as he goes.

“Bill?” When he doesn’t answer, Zenie jumps off her crate and starts after him. “Hey, Bill! What’s the matter?”

He turns to face her, but the jovial smile that she’s come to know these past few years is nothing but a distant memory. His eyes flash black as a thundercloud. “What’s the matter? I’ll tell ya what’s the matter, is that I’m not jumpin’ out of one of those goddamn planes right now, ready to kill every Kraut son of a bitch that I see! That’s what’s the matter.”

There is no trace of her friend – the first friend she made at Toccoa – in the man before her. His harsh tone hardens something within her. She feels her jaw clench.

“Do not snap at me!”

There’s some sort of irony in the fact that her demand is snapped back at him. He doesn’t – couldn’t possibly – know that this is years of pent up anger and unspoken despair finally boiling over, words that sound too much like her father’s finally toppling the scales and releasing a taste of the hatred that has rotted within her heart since childhood.

“Do not talk to me like that,” she repeats through clenched teeth.

If she didn’t recognize Bill through his anger, he must not recognize her through hers. Blinking, stunned, Bill studies her for a moment. His shoulders sag and he sighs. “I’m sorry. I – “ A laugh that has no happiness in it. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a letter. “Here.”

Dear Johnny. Zenie raises her eyebrows, but keeps scanning the letter – a letter not intended for Bill’s eyes, she realizes when she catches the words Henry Guarnere; dead; Monte Cassino; Bill doesn’t know.

“Oh.” His brother is dead. He found out in a letter that he was never meant to see . . . right before the biggest event of their lives. If she had known, she wouldn’t have snapped at him. “I’m so sorry.”

Bill presses his lips into a thin line. His eyes flick toward the letter in Zenie’s hand. “What about you?”

Zenie rarely gets mail. Bobby sends her short letters containing news from back home. Ever since her trip to Clinchco, she sometimes gets encouraging letters from Shifty’s family. Unlike the other men, she doesn’t share the content of her letters with anyone.

Now, she hands her friend the letter from her mother, unable to look at him while he scans through it.

“Jesus, Tommy.” Bill stares at her with raised eyebrows. “Ya said that ya weren’t close with your family, but ya never mentioned running away.” His eyebrows furrow as he scans the letter again. “They don’t know you’re in the army?”

She shakes her head. She’s only ever let Shifty in on that bit of information, back when she was explaining why she never used her passes to visit home.

“Jesus. That’s . . .”

“I know. But I had to leave and they would have stopped me.”

Bill blinks. He cocks his head and gives her a sideways look, studying her. It’s not the way that Shifty looked at her when he realized who she was – like he was seeing her for the first time. No, Bill is looking at her like he can’t wrap his mind around what she’s done. (If only he knew the full extent of it.)

“I know it’s not great,” Zenie charges on before he can say anything. “But it’ll be fine.”

Neither of them speak for a moment. They stare at each other in the fading sunlight, Zenie biting her lip and Bill’s eyes dancing between her and the airfield as he searches for something to focus on. Finally, he reaches out and claps her shoulder.

“Yeah, kid. We’re gonna make sure ya make it through the jump and get home to your Ma. It’ll be fine.”

It’s not a question.

The next morning dawns clear and bright. Men crowd around the priests as they come to the airfield. Zenie stays back, watching her friends go. It’s a gentle sight. Nothing like the pastors back home who thump their Bibles and yell at the congregation to get their point across.

Except for the moment when Zenie first arrived at Camp Toccoa and walked into the barracks, she’s never felt so tense around the people that she’s come to call her friends. Now their company stands in small clumps as they wait for their next order – as they wait for the moment that they’ve been counting down to for years.

Zenie and Luz help each other attach their leg bags. McClung tries to help her with her Mae West, which ends up popping, so she can only hope she doesn't end up landing in water. Popeye slips her some extra candy. Toye shoots her a grin when she tosses him her pack of cigarettes. She feels herself smile back at him.

They’ve waited for this moment for so long. Now that it’s here . . . it almost doesn’t feel real, somehow.

Shifty wishes her well. “I know you’re not really religious, but I said a prayer for you.”

Her heart feels like a glowing ember. “I appreciate it.” There’s so much she could say. There’s so little time before they part ways. Instead of saying those things, she settles on, “Thank you, Shifty. For everything.”

He nods. “Of course.”

It happens so quickly that she can’t be sure if he does it intentionally, or if it only happens because they’re standing so close. Shifty’s hand brushes hers, and for a split second, his fingers wrap around hers.

“Donadagohvi,” he tells her. Until we meet again.

“Donadagohvi,” she gasps.

And then as quickly as they touched, he’s moving away to go finish saying his goodbyes and to get on the plane. She stares after him with her breath and her heavy words stuck in her throat like a golf ball. No don’t go come back I –

“Well fellas, this is it,” Luz announces with a clap of his hands. He’s smiling, but it isn’t as wide as usual. He nods. “Good luck.”

Toye nods. “See you boys in France.”

“Don’t do anythin’ stupid,” Bill orders, which makes them all chuckle. “Good luck, boys.”

She should say something. Not goodbye. That feels too final.

“I’ll see y’all later,” she promises. They all start to migrate towards where their platoon is, but Zenie stops.

“Hey, I – “ That damn golf ball feeling is still clogging her throat; tender emotions are not so easily expressed when they need to be. “Uh, I just wanted to thank you. I didn’t really have anyone before I joined the paratroopers, so . . . Thanks for taking a chance on the short new guy.”

Bill’s grief over his brother is still hard and very present, shrouding him like a heavy coat. Yet even with all their equipment on, he tries his best to throw an arm around her shoulder as they walk to join the others. He doesn’t say anything. It’s alright – Zenie understands.

Gene gives her a sage nod when he hands her the airsickness pill. She hopes her nod back can convey how thankful she is that he’s kept her secret this whole time.

God, what’s wrong with her? Yesterday she was resigned to her fate and willing to throw herself out of a plane without hesitation, and now she’s full of emotion for all these men that she’s come to know. Maybe it was the letter. Lipton’s words: I think that someone would miss you. She would miss all of them, if something happened.

She’s never been airsick on any of their practice jumps. She takes the pill anyway, just in case. She doesn’t need one more thing throwing her off her game.

Lieutenant Winters helps each of them up, shaking their hands and wishing them well. “Good luck, Driver,” he says when he pulls her to her feet.

Then she’s at the door of the plane. They all have so much equipment that it takes the help of their fellow paratroopers to lift them up and through the door. It leaves no time for hesitation. The second that she approaches the threshold, she feels hands behind her, pushing her up into the air, toward the arms in the plane reaching down to receive her. It’s a reverse baptism. Instead of the pastor dunking her down into the water and announcing that Jesus lives in her heart and her name is written in the Book of Life, she’s being raised up in a display of team work and her actions are staining the pages of history books.

Inside, the rumbling of the C-47’s engine has never seemed louder. It rattles her to the core. Is the plane shaking, or is it her own unsteadiness as she makes her way to her seat?

Oh my God, she thinks as she watches the other men in her stick clamber into the plane. This is happening. This isn’t a practice run. This won’t be funny, like that time that Bill accidentally had two parachutes deployed on a training jump. This will be real.

Her mouth goes dry at the same time that her stomach turns cold. One thought keeps running through her head: she never should have opened that letter. She would be fine if she were still convinced that no one would miss her, that her possible death wouldn’t be an inconvenience.

Stop stop stop! They’re just kids. All of them. With mothers back home like hers, who are worried for them as they embark upon the experience of a lifetime. Kids going off to fight a man’s war. What are they doing here?!

Across the aisle, someone grins at her. From under the helmet and the face paint, she can’t make out who it is, just that their gesture is friendly enough.

At least she’s surrounded by friends. She trusts all of these men. They trust her. And two of them trust her despite what they know about her. They called her brave, even.

She takes a deep breath. She was fine before the letter, and she’s fine now; she will make it so. She’s ready for this – they all are.

At last, their plane starts to move forward. Too late to back out now, even if she wanted to. Because she wants this. She wanted to get out of her town, out of her house, out of her room, and boy did she. Now she’s up in the sky, heading for foreign lands.

Zenie from the Bird Clan is finally flying far, far away.

[second-lifetime]

songs i enjoy more than others

As someone who suffers from the disease I’ve affectionately termed Bad Music Taste, I want to know more about your music taste as well as share a little bit about mine! So we can get to know each other better maybe :D (in no particular order)

1. 新宝島 (Shin Takarajima - New Treasure Island) - Sakanaction

‘I’m searching for the scenery of a dream’

The Asian blood jumped out - but seriously, this song is so insanely trippy, it literally makes me feel alive just listening to it. It’s got all these strange techno noises and the trusty guitar and the singer all coming together to make this song - and the lyrics, while mostly simple (and borderline repetitive), are still a source of inspiration for me! The entire album is worthy of being on loop.

2. Lovergirl - Teena Marie

‘Call me up don't be shy/For my love will make you high/I just want to be your lovergirl’

This song is so powerful! Her voice is amazing and I really wish I was born in the era when I could truly appreciate this song (but unfortunately I’m not). The passionate-declarations-of-love thing I’m not always a fan of, but when it’s her singing this song, I am immediately immersed in this fantasy of synth-pop dance-floor passion.

3. Mr/Mme - Loïc Nottet

‘My ambition is large/Hard to satisfy/My happiness tastes like a bitter flavour’

His voice. I’m sorry to say that yes, I discovered him through Eurovision (I’m not even from Europe this is so strange) but his voice is just. Amazing. This song is just so heavy in every good way - the lyrics are angsty but then again who doesn’t like a go-to song for angst? The raw emotion - it almost sounds like he’s shredding his voice, for which I hope his throat is okay - is just so addictive.

4.  水鄉 (Canal Town) - 毛不易 (Mao Buyi)

‘The moon shining on both ends’

Will admit that his voice is the kind you can sing along to maybe on an acoustic guitar, not like a powerhouse or anything but so melancholic and beautiful - this song always makes me fall into this state of contemplation. It’s got major writing vibes, especially if I want to write something slower and softer, so it’s one of the songs I really treasure very much. The lyrics are beautiful.

5. The Night We Met - Lord Huron

‘I had all and then most of you/Some and now none of you’

This song, graciously recommended by a friend, has been on my On Repeat for months. I keep coming back to it whenever I want to write sad scenes, feel the melancholic atmosphere wash over me, or whenever I simply want to enjoy a good, slow song. The lyrics are beautifully simple, a record of love’s escapism, and the instrumental is hauntingly perfect. I could listen to this song for forever.

6. Morning Crawls Towards You, And I - Good Luck Finding Iris

‘Sorry you have to go/You’re tired, I’ll drive you home/And I'll pretend that I don't mind/That I don't wish you’d stay out all night’ 

There is something addicting about the singer’s voice here - it sounds like it could be sung on a quiet trip back home after a day of staring at the sky. The song itself is very stripped and minimalist, but it captures something inside my soul that refuses to let itself go. It’s an almost soundless quality about the song that makes me like it. 

7. Egoist - Olivia Hye (LOONA)

‘My tears are on the tips of my toes/At the edge of the darkness, on the way home after sunset/I saw the moonlight’

K-Pop! I was one of those people, a while ago, but I’m not that involved anymore. This song is a remnant of that era, and I think honestly it’s a really well-produced song, and LOONA has been one of those groups that still hold my interest. This solo song from Olivia Hye is so powerful in all aspects: lyrics, instrumental and dance, that it’s very difficult not to like it.

I’m not sure who’s even going to read this but thanks for reading! Have my attempt at connecting with people online, I’m really not used to this as one can probably tell. Have a good day!