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#i need his floppy hair
zeearts · 1 year
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so like i may have gone overboard 'redrawing' that manga panel.. bonus close ups below the cut.
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maybe if i have the brainpower and energy for it i'll try animating it, but until then.. thank you vash and studio orange for curing some of my art block!!
also extra bonus; have you guys ever wanted to see him sans glasses?? cause i did and i
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marlenacantswim · 7 months
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pawing at his perfect locks like a cat
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kitnita · 4 months
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ballysportssw: after a week of R 'n R the stars take to the ice again!
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zakifairer · 4 months
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Everyone perceive my son
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inkykeiji · 2 months
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i’m clinging to this image so tightly my knuckles are sprouting through my skin
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steelycunt · 1 year
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stop describing remus’ hair as blond. he would never do that
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strayklds · 1 month
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no em gifs from the anniversary feast? 🥺😳😳😨😰😓💔🗡️
unfortunately not😭😭😭 i’ve been so busy at work that i’ve had zero motivation to open ps ☹️ hopefully i’ll have some time to gif it this weekend 🫶🏼
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remapped-soul · 11 months
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i hope marc marquez's hair line will never betray us
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fozmeadows · 6 months
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the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
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dandyshucks · 3 months
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BASE FINISHED !!!!! :D
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werecreature-addicted · 6 months
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Werewolf and rabbit girl, Werewolf fucking a cute little girl who has cute bunny ears coming out of her hair and an adorable white tail that he loves to grab and pull her to get on her knees and lift her butt up , with her face on the ground and her ears drooping and flooded with the excitement and pleasure that the werewolf gives her, from whom she was supposed to run and get away by instinct, but she only gave up her pussy so that he could fuck her until she went crazy.
and the strawberries she was picking were left lying on the ground next to her being fucked 🐇🍓
anon you've unknowingly stumbled onto a huge pet peeve of mine.
Rabbits are not cute doe-eyed subs. They are in fact huge god damn brats. This bunny knows exactly what the fuck they are doing when they sway that cotton tale. And thumps their foot, throwing a fit if she doesn't get dicked down within an inch of their life.
Prey instincts tell you to freeze and hide, but instead, you run, just to get chased. It's more a game than anything else, you look behind yourself often, just to make sure that your wolfie really is following.
You know what you're doing, you know what monsters live in this patch of woods. it's not a surprise when clawed hands wrap around your waist and bring you to the ground.
You have to stop yourself from grinning as you play innocent, begging for your life, spreading your legs to show off your bunny cunt while you seductively ask if there's anything you can do to keep your life.
"you don't need to do this, you can just ask to get fucked, this is like the third time this month," he growls, his eyes drifting down to your exposed cunt.
"I like things this way" you protest. He takes both of your floppy ears in one hand and tugs on them hard,
"Maybe I should punish you bunny. That might make the lesson stick, what do you think about that?" he asks. You grin. As long as you get fucked, you'll take any punishment the big bad wolf has in store.
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everyonewooeverywhere · 3 months
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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED
pairing ✭ farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader
note ✭ this is very much inspired by the mingyu pictured above. (also i don't mention it explicitly, but girly's family is lowkey rich)
synopsis ✭ when your dad hires a hot new farm hand, you can't keep your hands off of him.
content/genre ✭ smut (18+ mdni)
word count ✭ 2.9k
warnings ✭ smut, mingyu and reader are horny af, outside sex (no one else sees them though), no prep, overall horny shenanigans i guess 🤷‍♀️, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex (they're not depicted as drunk, but they did have a couple drinks)
✭✭✭✭
Every time your father hired a new farmhand, they were always the same. While they never disappointed in the build department (they were always jacked, but that was kind of a requirement of the job), but they all looked identical. They wore the same brown scuffed boots. They had their hair in the same floppy cut with the same dirty blonde color. 
For a couple of summers through your teens, it had been fun. Your father would hire him after the final school bell rang for the summer. You’d introduce yourself to him when your father was nowhere in sight, and you’d spend the rest of the summer sneaking around with him and having your fun. When summer finally ended and school began, you’d bid him farewell and never speak to him again, and your father was none the wiser.
And it was fun! The first two times. Then every summer turned the same, and every single farm hand looked indistinguishable from the last with no discernible personality whatsoever. 
So, having just finished your second year of university, you were expecting more of the same. You’d have a gander, but you certainly weren’t expecting much from whoever your dad decided to hire this summer. 
“God, why couldn’t you have invited me to stay over at your house this summer? I’d take whatever hunk your dad decided to keep,” your best friend from school, Jennifer, whined over the phone as you pulled your car up the long driveway to your house.
“I did invite you, but you’re spending you’re leaving today for Spain, remember?”
“Yes, but y/n!” she whined again, “I need more muscly men in my life. This would be the perfect opportunity.”
“You’re gonna be in Spain for two months. I’m sure you’ll find at least one man muscular enough to fit your standard.”
“Yeah, whatever. You better have fun with this man without me.”
“Like I told you earlier, they’re so fucking boring. It’s not gonna happen.”
You put your car in park and began to gather up your purse and phone when you glanced up out the windshield to see probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life walking out your front door and toward your car. It was as if your severe doubts had summoned him.
Ever the chatterbox, Jennifer kept talking, “Well I’m just saying maybe you should keep an open mind. You never know what could happen. One magical night in the woods and you could be locked down for life. It’s just–”
“Jennie shut the fuck up.”
“Woah,” she seemed mildly offended, “sorry?”
“He’s hot Jennie. Like really hot. Not even a ten. Probably a twelve.”
“Ugh, you lucky bitch! I told you to keep an open mind,” you could hear her mother yelling at her in the background, “Oh shit. Girl, I have to go, but send pics! Please! I need to see the hunk you’re railing this summer.”
“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled while she hung up on you.
This man was really throwing you for a loop. Just based on appearance alone you could tell he was not the type of guy your dad usually hired. First and foremost, he was massive. Well over 6 feet tall and far more muscular than any guy you’d ever seen (and that was saying something), and the skin-tight black t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide it. His hair was dark and cropped, a far cry from the endless supply of shaggy blonde hairstyles you’d seen over the years. 
The cherry on top was when, after watching you stumble out of the car, he’d asked, “Where’s your luggage? I thought I’d help you carry it inside.”
“Oh,” you let out an awkward laugh, “It’s in the trunk. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he followed you around the back of your car and popped open the trunk, “I’m Mingyu by the way.” He stuck out a hand for you to shake it.
You grabbed the hand and he shook it with a firm squeeze. Holy fuck he has nice hands. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you Mingyu.”
There was no hiding the way you gawked at the way his muscles flexed when he carried your stuff inside.
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The idea of returning to your old ways was honestly exciting for you. Last night over Facetime Jennifer had gotten the whole rundown of your brief interaction with Mingyu. You fawned over his muscles, his cute lisp and the way he’d been such a gentleman to help you carry your luggage after what you assumed was a long day of work. 
She’d found his Instagram of course and found out that he was indeed just as attractive as you’d described (and he had cute friends too). 
This morning you felt more than ready to kick off what you predicted to be a great summer. And you weren’t starting slow either. You knew the routine of your father’s farmhands enough to know that Mingyu would start the day mowing the lawn around your house. He’d usually start later on Saturdays (today), too. Meaning that if you got out there by 10 am, he’d probably still be working his way around the lawn. Hopeful by the pool.
Which, by complete coincidence, is where you were. Laid out in your favorite bikini by the water. The dark sunglasses covering your eyes meant that your eyes were completely hidden, but it was obvious where you were looking. 
Not far from the pool, you could see Mingyu pushing the lawn mower through the grass of your backyard. The tight black t-shirt from yesterday was no more. Instead, he wore a white tank top that left his arms completely exposed. He glanced over at you a couple of times, but he never let his gaze linger long enough for you.
You watched him from your laid-out position in your pool chair for a good fifteen minutes before he disappeared into the shed, presumably to put the lawnmower away. While he was inside, you took a moment to stand and dip your toes in the water thoroughly enjoying the coolness of the water. It was nice, you had to admit, but you’d have to save that for later because, while you were distracted by the water, Mingyu had made his way to the fence that separated your pool from the rest of the yard. 
It was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed him standing there, leaning against the fence smiling at you with an eyebrow raised.
“Do you normally spend your mornings checking out your dad’s employees?” God his voice.
You stepped out of the pool, “Only when I think they’re worth my time.” You slid your sunglasses off your face and onto the top of your head as you approached the fence where Mingyu was standing.
“Charming. I’m assuming he hasn’t the slightest idea what you get up to, then?”
You laughed, “Of course not. I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“So…” you brushed his forearm with the tips of your fingers, “What time do you get done?” You knew the answer of course, but it felt polite to ask.
“Seven thirty. Why? Hoping to get me alone?” He smirked
“I wouldn’t mind it.” You bit your lip as you no-so-subtly checked him out for the millionth time, “Meet me behind the shed at seven forty-five, ok? Don’t be late. I’ll bring booze.”
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Part of you wondered if he’d be there when you snuck out of your house at eight-fifteen. Yes, you were late, but that was part of the game. Your parents always went to bed early, and you were an adult. So getting out of the house unnoticed was no issue at all. If your dad noticed the six-pack missing from the garage fridge, you could just tell him you drank it or you could feign complete innocence. 
The weather was still warm despite it being completely dark outside, so your athletic shorts and oversized tee did just fine. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt but ultimately decided against it because you didn’t want him to think you’d give it up that easily. Even though you were already struggling greatly to contain your excitement.
He could hear the clinking of the glass beer bottles as you made your way to the shed through the freshly cut yard. As much as Mingyu would love to deny it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since this morning. Something about the way you were laid out in the sun this morning had left a permanent imprint on his mind. The secrecy of the situation was also incredibly appealing. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, messing around with his boss’s incredibly hot daughter.
Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were taking your sweet time on purpose. You’d made him wait half an hour just to see if he’d wait around for you that long. You wanted to see how bad he wanted it, and clearly, he wanted it pretty bad because you found him sitting on the bench behind the shed staring up at the stars.
“Sorry, I’m late.”
He laughed, “Sure you are.” He held out a hand.
You passed him a bottle as you sat down next to him.
“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, but it seems you just enjoy the idea of making people wait for you.”
“Maybe,” you turned so your knees just barely brushed his thigh, “But you waited for me didn’t you?”
“Hey, maybe I just wanted free beer.” He gestured to the bottle in his hand.
“I know for a fact my dad pays you enough for you to afford your own beer.”
He laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, giving you a full view of his neck. You couldn’t help but imagine kissing his neck, leaving plenty of marks in your wake. “He sure does. It’s one of the many benefits.”
“What else do you like about the job?” You were genuinely curious about what was so appealing about doing nothing but manual labor for an entire summer. Even if the paycheck was really good.
He shrugged, “I don’t know. Gets me off my ass. Gives me something to do with my hands.”
“Oh? You good with your hands?”
“You just don’t let up do you?” He really did enjoy how insistent you were despite your attempts to make him pine after you by making him wait for you so long. 
“Not unless I’m asked to.”
You ended up talking with Mingyu for two hours. The two of you drank and talked about your lives, school, home, past flings, and relationships. By the time you two of you had finished off the six-pack you’d brought out, you felt as if you’d been out there forever. 
At some point, you’d put your legs over his lap. He caressed one of your calves with one hand while you played with the fingers of his other hand.
As much as you’d enjoyed this little conversation, the more you drank, the hotter he got, and you were hardly holding it together anymore. With every move of his hand on your calf, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.
You took the hand that was already in yours and placed it on your cheek, “Mingyu…” you whined looking up at him.
“What, baby?” his thumb stroked your cheek.
You straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs and moving down his neck and to his chest, “can we stop talking for a little bit?”
“Oh?” he questioned, lightly placing his hand on your lower back under your shirt, “What do you suppose we do instead?”
“Can I kiss you?” You asked leaning further into him so that your chests were touching.
“You can do whatever you want, baby.”
That was all the confirmation you needed to lean completely into him and kiss him. The kiss was long and more passionate than any kiss you’d experienced from your past summer flings. His hands were on your ass, pulling you to hover over his crotch where you could obviously tell he was hard. And that would have made you smug if you hadn’t been sitting in your own arousal for at least an hour. 
You kissed down his neck just like you had previously imagined. He let out a deep moan with every mark and bite you made. You had failed to realize that one of his hands had left your ass until you felt a hand brush over your completely clothed pussy.
“Baby, as much as I love these cute little shorts, can I take them off of you?”
Nodding furiously, you leaned back, pulled yourself off of his lap and pulled off your shorts and shirt, setting them on the bench beside him. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, something Mingyu had noticed almost immediately when you’d sat down beside him. Before you made your way back to his lap, you reached for the hem of that stupid, useless white tank top that covered virtually nothing. You pulled it over his head with ease. 
“Wow–” you whispered.
He laughed and pulled you back into his lap, “As flattered as I am,” he ran a hand up your side, “I could say the same thing about you.”  
Before you could even think about how to respond Mingyu’s face was in your chest, feverishly placing kisses on your tits. He grabbed one with his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers.
You gripped onto his hair and moaned softly. Your hips rolled over his clothed dick multiple times before he finally shucked off his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight. 
“Can I please fuck you now?” he asked.
“Please,” you begged completely forgoing the chance to tease him for his politeness.
You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and grabbed him. Running a thumb over the tip, you pulled his cock out and pumped it a couple of times. “God, baby. You better hurry up.”
He slid your panties to the side and ran a finger between your folds, “you sure you don’t want me to prep you?”
You shook your head. So much for making him wait. “I’ll be ok. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
He nodded and reached to grab a condom from his pocket. Of course, he’d come prepared. When he failed to open it fast enough, you snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open with your own teeth. You rolled it onto him after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time. 
He positioned himself at your entrance and slid himself into you with relative ease. You threw your head back when he bottomed out. You covered your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself at least a little quiet. 
“F-fuck, Mingyu!”
“Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunted out, “I’m gonna need you to move, baby. Can you do that for me?” 
You nodded and gripped onto his shoulder. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he buried his face back in your chest, kissing and biting at your tits, collarbone, and neck. He left plenty of marks on your chest that were identical to the ones you’d left on his neck, maybe even darker. You had brought your own hand to your clit. Desperately trying to find your release. 
“Oh god Gyu, I’m so close,” you grabbed onto his hair.
He hissed from the stinging in his scalp, “Me too, angel, me too.” His face was in your neck when you’d finally reached your climax, and he followed immediately after.
You both sat there, chests heaving, for a couple of minutes, saying nothing.
“Wow,” was all he could say as he pulled you off his lap and helped you put your clothes back on, tossing the condom into the trash bin beside the bench. You made a mental note to take the trash out before your dad came out here tomorrow.
You laughed breathily, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hands found their way to his chest instinctively. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”
“Oh, was that not enough for you?”
“God, no, that was perfect. But I wanna take care of you for real next time.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I have a truck,” he nodded toward the red pickup truck in your driveway, “I can drive it down to the creek. The bed of the truck is actually pretty comfy when you put blankets and pillows down.”
Laughing, you said, “You want to fuck me in the woods.” He shook his head, “I wanna eat you out in the woods.”
God, this was gonna be a fun summer.
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“Girl, what!? It’s only been a day?” Jennifer’s voice rang through the phone. “Was it good?’
“For outside bench sex? Yeah, it was great. We’re seeing each other tomorrow night.”
She groaned, “Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jealous.”
“What? No Spanish hunks?”
She shook her head, “not yet. But I’m hopeful!” 
“Do you still want updates, or are you gonna explode from jealousy?”
“No! Please keep me updated. I’m living vicariously through you.”
You laughed, “God you’re insufferable.”
“I know!” She batted her eyelashes at you, “You will keep me updated though, right.”
“Of course, how could I not.”
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thank you for reading! i knocked this shit out in two days (and you can probably tell 👀), but i'm genuinely surprised with myself.
anyway hope you enjoyed. reblog and like if you did! love hearing your thoughts
mwah~
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emeraldcreeper · 1 year
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This whole I can’t move out from the absurd makings of whatever situation I’m living in really blows
I really just want to make Chinese food at this point which is about my general state, I got a Chinese cookbook for my “”birthday”” (8 days ago, since before then my mom waxed poetic about a recipe of my dead father’s that is in this cookbook along with you guessed it Chinese foods including paper wrapped chicken (ginger chicken which is fried in foil wrapping, in a wok) which will probably make a mess in my grandmas kitchen (and drive her up a wall, most likely, even if she doesn’t say it out loud) because frying stuff always makes a goddamn mess
and Jesus I wish there was a clandestine way for me to just do my own goddamn hair, I’ve got clippers and scissors in storage I just need them out and I need a broom or something so I can uh clean up the hair mess I make because I do not want to see the guy who cut my hair last like two years ago (embarrassed, I cheated on him with my own clippers, he didn’t mind but I am no longer self sufficient if I cannot cut my own hair in a tidy and contained manner, having a decent looking haircut it’s like half my self esteem man) I know what I want, what I usually fuckin do, a 4 guard on everything except the too long part which I cut haphazardly until it looks good, which is embarrassing to say to the nice man who absolutely would cut my hair for me and likely remembers what he did before (it’s a common men’s cut he did a fade on the sides and shorter it’s basically an undercut in mens haircut speak) I’m just embarrassed about like 30,000 things and hate talking to hairdressers that’s why I don’t go to them, plus I find it cathartic to cut it myself, plus it’s cheaper like 30-40 minutes of my own time using the clippers ive owned plus showering after I can even go with my preferred guard length because I can cut it more often to a slightly longer length (3/8ths inch maybe 1/4 but I prefer 1/2 I’m blonde and pale as fuck I look weird with anything under a 3 you can’t tell there’s hair past a certain point) I’ve also still got the migraine so I can’t exactly plan for a low pain hour to do anything without ending up almost crying or killing someone when the pain overloads my brain so much I get cranky or cry-y
I should follow the advice of the “just fucking talk about it club for the mentally ill because CHRIST I can literally just cut my own hair I’m gonna get my clippers out Sunday (uncle has birthday dinner tomorrow and I reckon it’ll be an hours long affair and kill me in all manners including physical) I told my mom I was considering getting my clippers and water flosser (that I took from her, she didn’t use it, I do now, it’s the one way I floss, by washing my face and bullying myself into being at a sink at night) and like if I don’t make a mess, which god willing I won’t, will be tidy lad doing tidy lad haircut to not want to die and feel sososo handsome it’ll be fine and not freak anyone out cause I’ve done the sameish haircut for two years (a year and change I think probably I assume) and it looks nice and I Will Not make a mess I will lay down towels and not make a mess I prommy I don’t wanna see my old hairdresser I feel awkward about him
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farmerstarter · 9 months
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The Bachelors and How They Sleep
hello lovelies! Have some more of my headcanons. These HCs are for a gn! reader. If you have any requests then feel free to send me an ask! Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated 🌷🤍
Alex:
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🏈 Moves a lot during his sleep. But he doesn't outright punch you by accident. You always seem to end up being under him.
🏈 Mumbles a lot too. One time, you woke up to him counting to himself, just like how he counts his bicep curls.
🏈 Wakes up early, just a few moments before you. He says it's because he needs to exercise the first thing in the morning. But it's actually because he felt you move out of the bed and he doesn't like to be alone.
🏈 Gives you all the pillows to make you comfortable. He says it's important for your muscles to get a good night's rest. He ends up hogging the blankets.
Elliott:
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🪶 Sleeps like a dead man. He doesn't move at all, save for the occasional turning to the side to snuggle against you.
🪶 It takes him a while to finally succumb to slumber. He says it's because he's used to listening to the waves of the beach to fall asleep.
🪶 Silk pajamas, the man has sets of them. He keeps his hair down while sleeping so you sometimes wake up to your whole face being covered by his locks.
🪶 He's a late riser, mostly because he sleeps late too. He tells you that he writes better at night and he doesn't allow himself to rest until he's finished writing one chapter at least.
Harvey:
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🛩️ Sometimes, Harvey forgets to take off his glasses before he goes to bed. Which is why he has so many broken ones that he tries to hide from you by kicking them under the bed.
🛩️ Professional cuddler. He always makes sure you're in his arms or vice versa. He needs to touch you in order to get a good night's rest. Doesn't matter if you two are spooning or if it's just his hand on top of your arm.
🛩️ Snores a lot. Goes "hoooonk mimimimimi hoooonk mimimimi"
🛩️ I like to imagine him wearing those pajamas that's like just a long night gown and those floppy pointy hats. You know the one.
Sam:
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🎸 Alex mumbles in his sleep, Sam straight up sings. Usually it's outbursts of the choruses of his songs, sometimes he'd hum the tune out. You have a video of him playing air drums while sleeping. You sent the video to Abigail and Sebastian, and they never let Sam hear the end of it.
🎸 He wakes up super late most of the time. But on the rare occasion where he doesn't, he cooks breakfast and serves it to you in bed. Complete with a flower in a vase and everything.
🎸 Always kisses you before he falls asleep. Straight up drags you to his side of the bed to peck your lips.
🎸 Would take off his shirt to put it on you. He says he doesn't want you getting cold at night and waves you off when you refuse, worried about his wellbeing. "I don'T gEt sicK eaSiLy, Babe," ends up in the clinic to get meds the next day.
Sebastian:
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👾 It's my headcanons and I say he moves a LOT during his sleep. So much so that you end up on the floor when you wake up. He refuses to believe that he does that.
👾 His sleep schedule depends on you. He refuses to sleep unless you're already in the house. He doesn't like the feeling of sleeping when he doesn't know you're safe. You'll find him waiting for you on the porch.
👾 Prefers to sleep on the side of the bed where the sun doesn't shine.
👾 Immediately feels it when you get out of the bed. And he wakes up immediately, groggy and needing a few minutes to register where he is. Even if you're just going to get a glass of water, Sebastian would wake up and ask where you're going.
Shane:
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🐣 This man says good night to all the chickens in your coop before he goes to bed, I decided.
🐣 He used to get little to no hours of sleep but after moving in with you, he tries to get enough sleep as possible.
🐣 Hugs you in his sleep, all the time.
🐣 He wakes up the same moment you do, sometimes earlier. He gave himself the job to take care of your farm animals so you don't have to work too hard. So he wakes early to get the job done as soon as possible to spend breakfast with you.
🐣 My brother in Yoba, he would wake up in the middle of the night to get a snack. You would sometimes catch him in the middle of drinking cows milk straight out of the bottle in front of the open fridge.
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rebelfell · 5 months
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steve harrington x virgin!reader
Started writing about a nerdy/loser reader getting a job at a summer camp alongside the former king of her former high-school. But only bit I really liked was this piece of smut, so here we are.
cw: bigdick!steve has entered the chat, fingering, oral (fem receiving), first time piv (unprotected, cos I didn’t describe the condom, but he's wearing one and so should you) 1.4k
18+ MDNI
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“Just, ah…” You winced slightly as the tip of his head pressed at your entrance. “Go slow?”
Steve paused, heavy lidded eyes coming up to meet yours. “Wait, are you a…have you never?”
You watched the reality of your virginity dawn slowly on his face, and squirmed slightly in his arms as you tried to refocus his attention.
“It’s fine, Steve. Don’t worry about it.”
The pressure of his length pushing against your core rescinds as he pulls away and you can’t help the petulant sight that falls from your chest.
Figures, you thought bitterly.
But Steve kept his mouth close. He littered your jaw and neck with kisses, his hands kneading your waist as he kneeled slowly and his lips continued their journey downwards. He wove a serpentine pattern across your chest, over the swell of your breasts, briefly sucking one nipple into his hot mouth while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. You sighed pleasurably at the feeling and vibrations rippled across you as he hummed around your peaked bud before pulling off with a lewd pop. His eyes watched for your reaction, dark and hungry as he kissed down your sternum and carefully spread your legs further to make space for him.
“Steve, wh-what are you—”
“Just want you to be ready,” he murmured, lips skimming over your navel. “Don’t want it to hurt.”
He brought his fingers to your entrance, lazily circling it with them, swirling lightly all around it, brushing your inner thighs as he did. You closed your eyes and tipped back your head, losing yourself in the sensations of Steve’s slow, gradual build. It feels so…nice.
He kissed tentatively at the apex of your thighs, nose pressing into your mound, and internally you cringed at the thought of what you must look like down there. You couldn’t very well shave regularly when you were sharing the showers with twenty other counselors and could count on maybe a solid six minutes of hot water. And in a million years you wouldn’t have been able to anticipate this. So you almost certainly weren’t living up to King Steve’s standards.
Steve said nothing, though. If anything, he only buried his face further in the down of your hair, inhaling your scent like it was his dying breath. The wet heat of his tongue surprised you as he licked a fat stripe through your folds and actually moaned, the sound deep and rumbly in his chest.
“Fuck,” he whispered, soft and reverent as a prayer. “You taste like…summer.”
His grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer, smothering his face in your center, licking and sucking at you eagerly, ravenously. His tongue chased off any glimmer of insecurity you might have felt, his enthusiasm evident in the noises that filled the room.
A tingling feeling licks its way up your body, making your cheeks and chest and ears burn hot. Your hands flexed, needing something to hold onto for fear you’ll float away untethered into the ether. With one, you palmed at your breast, missing how it had felt when Steve squeezed them over your staff shirt. The other found its way to twist itself into floppy, caramel-tinged tresses.
“You can pull it if you want,” he teased, the words muffled by your cunt. “I can take it.”
He moaned instantly at the sharp tug you gave, dragging his face against your heat so his nose stroked your clit as you rolled your hips forward. Your own boldness surprising you as much as it did him.
“Oh, fuck yes,” he growled. “That’s right, baby, ride my face. Make me make you come.”
You rolled your hips again, desperately chasing an end you couldn’t even see you were so lost in the forest of your feelings. Steve lips sealed around your clit, sucking it with intention as he brought his fingers back up. At last, he breached your entrance, slipping one in easily and following it close with a second that made you writhe at the gentle stretch. 
The pumped in and out of you at a pace just slow enough to be torture, curling upwards and toying with that spot inside you that had you gushing around his fingers. You’re barely conscious as waves of pleasure rushed across you, chest shuddering with your moans as you gripped at him desperately. His tongue soothes your swollen flesh as he coaxes you through your orgasm, helping you ride it out to the very last second.
In more ways than one, you’re grateful for the warm-up when Steve stood between your legs and brought the head of his cock back to your entrance. Is it at all possible he’s gotten bigger? 
He glided it through your folds—once, twice, three times—letting the ridges catch on your clit and making you keen with each too-brief pass. He held it at the base and lifted it slightly, only to let it drop and jolt you as it slapped heavy against your dripping pussy. A dark chuckle fell from his lips at the way your eyes bulged and you gasped at the feeling, not ready for the impact. 
And then, in the kind of contrast that rivaled Jekyll and Hyde, he leaned over you and spoke sweetly in your ear as he aligned with you.
“Are you ready?” he asked. 
You nodded, too choked up to answer, pinching your eyes closed and bracing yourself to finally feel him. It doesn’t happen, though. He leaned in closer, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face as he lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Hey…look at me.” 
Your eyes flew open to find his face hovering inches over yours. The tip of his nose brushed your own and you could practically count his long, dark lashes that fanned around mossy eyes that were almost black in the moonlight. Pieces of his long hair fell forward, the ends of it tickling your face before he pushed it back with his hand. The moles and freckles that dusted his tanned skin were more numerous than the stars in the sky you could see through his cabin’s windows.
“If you want this, you need to tell me so.”
His voice is firm, unyielding, but it’s not mean. Truly, you believed if you were to push him away and tell him you’d changed your mind, he would just tuck himself back into his shorts and be on his way. Except you wouldn’t ever do that. Because, fuck did you want him so bad.
“I want it,” you whispered. “I want you.”
It’s all the invitation he needs. 
The feeling of him finally pressing inside is intense, but not so overwhelming that it makes you whine or want to cry out. He goes slow, stretching you methodically as you take him inch by inch. And each time you think he must be buried to the hilt by now, you find there’s another stretch, another inch he can push inside. It has your chest heaving with each one.
“Too much?” he asked as his gaze flicked down to study your face.
“N-no,” you lied, legs shaking from the effort of holding them open. 
As though reading your mind, Steve gripped behind your knees and pushed your thighs up towards your chest, holding them there for you. The new angle gives him enough purchase to push in deeper still, making your back arch and your breath punch out in relief.
“We’re so close, baby,” he huffed, hair falling forward again, dusting his brow that’s damp with sweat in the sticky, humid air. “You’re taking me so well, fucking sucking me in.” 
With his words, you can almost feel your walls trying to engulf him. They burn from that last blissful stretch until he’s seated fully inside, his pelvis grinding against yours. The fullness you feel is exquisite. By all accounts, it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t fit. It shouldn’t be so right. 
You pictured him pressing on your other organs; twisting up your insides; the way he’ll demolish you as soon as he starts moving. Just the thought has you growing wetter by the second.
“Shit, look at you,” he chuckled, staring down at where your bodies meet, almost in awe. “Can’t fucking believe it…”
If you were being honest, neither could you. Part of you is afraid to breathe, convinced one wrong move will rupture something. But maybe even moreso, you’re dying to find out if it will. 
“Okay, Harrington,” you sighed, shooting him a challenging smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
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