#been struggling a loooot

[rosicheeks]

🙃

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

pet names and looped pinkies [s.h.] 18+

hiiiii so i've never written for steve but just did a stranger things rewatch and have felt...inspired. i hope you enjoy! pls feel free to send suggestions or concepts or anything :) thanks for reading!

masterlist

summary: steve is your best friend and you have a crush on him and that's fine until one day it's not and the next thing you know you can't think or speak or breathe around him. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: loooots of pet names, fluff, pining,cursing, kissing, m masturbation, dirty talk, handjob, spitting, tiny bit of cum eating :))) 18+ ONLY!! MDNI

wc: 6.4k

part 2 here!!!!

You and Steve had been friends for quite some time now. 

Going from quietly watching him throughout high school, maybe quietly crushing on him too, to fighting monsters and trying to survive could do that to people. Make them friends, that is. 

The crush you’d been harboring on Steve didn’t go away, oh no if anything it had gotten about ten times worse in the time you’d spent growing close. That Steve you knew in high school was long gone. The, for lack of a better word, asshat you had come to blush over had turned into a protector. A funny, endearing, unnervingly hot protector that made your tummy flutter and your palms sweat. 

It didn’t help that he seemed completely unaware of your feelings, or that the things he did made your heart race and your cheeks turn pink. Linking his pinky with yours while you strolled around town, letting his thumb mindlessly rub circles on the little sliver of your stomach that was visible during movie night, giving a little tug on your hair when you said something cheeky, letting his dimple pop out when you teased him. 

And the pet names. God, the pet names! Maybe he did know! Maybe he wanted to torture you and make you squirm. They slipped from those perfect pink lips so effortlessly it kind of pissed you off. 

“Hey honey, how was work today?” 

“Sweetheart we’re gonna be late for the movie and I will not be blamed when we don’t have time to grab your snacks.” 

“Any chance you wanna pick up an extra shift and spend some time with me? What do you say, pretty?” 

He had the hair, the smile, the charm. You imagined it would be hard for anyone not to fall madly in love with him. It was surely hard for you! Steve did a good job of turning you to mush. It was hard to think around him, even harder to not think about him. 

Which is why you’re really struggling now, smushed on a far too little couch with 3 other people, your thigh pressed so tightly against Steve’s it’s making your head spin. It’s movie night, a tradition you’ve picked up and held onto tightly amidst all the craziness that happens in your small town. Steve is on your left, stuck between the arm of the couch and you. Robin is on your right with Eddie next to her and Jonathon next to him. A couch meant for 2, maybe 3, but all 4 of you packed on while the rest of your friends lounge on the floor or a chair, eyes all focused on the screen. 

Almost everyone’s eyes are focused on the screen. 

You’re staring straight ahead, sure! But while a movie that you now can’t even remember the name of is droning on, all you can think of is how your hip is touching Steve’s. Or how his pinky has somehow found yours again and they’re looped together on his lap. Or even worse, how he’s got his head resting on your shoulder and you can feel little puffs of his breath hitting your neck everytime he laughs. 

It’s driving you crazy, your hand not in his twitching by your side and your chest rising and falling a little faster than it should be while watching a comedy with your friends. You’re so distracted it takes you a few minutes to realize that Steve is no longer watching the movie, but is now focused on you and how uncomfortable you seem to be. He gives a small tug to your pinky, drawing your eyes to meet his and you’re so overwhelmed with him right now you could cry at the furrow in his brow and the small pout he’s wearing looking at you. 

“Y’alright, baby?” You can see his genuine concern at the state of you but all you can focus on is trying not to let a small whimper through your lips as you hear him call you baby. Not being able to look at him for more than a few seconds you drag your eyes away from him, a small huff leaving you while you shake your head, mainly at yourself. “I, uh m’fine. I’m fine.” Neither of you are convinced, you know that, but you can’t find it in you to care at the moment when all you can think about is taking his bottom lip between your teeth. 

He studies you once more, eyes taking you in quickly as he reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers around your neck a second longer, two fingers giving you a little pinch before he’s drawing his hand back to his lap. You find yourself staring far too long at his hand, wondering what it would feel like if he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. Or if it would be as good as you imagined to have him slip that same thumb past your lips, pressing down on your tongue, wearing that same smirk you’ve seen a thousand times.

Fuck fuck fuck. You’re so fucked. 

As soon as the thoughts come, they’re gone because the next thing you know you’re using his and Robin’s thighs as leverage to jump up from the couch, turning to face everyone with red cheeks and a forced smile. 

“So I, uh, I gotta go! Just remembered mom wanted me home early tonight, some, uh, some family thing going on. Yeah that’s it. Family thing!” Everyone is staring, eyes wide with confusion written all over their faces. You love movie night, never miss it let alone leave early. 

You don’t give anyone the chance to question you before you’re bouncing up the stairs trying to pull your shoes on as quickly as possible. You know he’ll be right behind you, asking you what’s wrong or offering a ride home. You both know you’re full of shit but you can’t find it in you to care right now, too focused on getting away from him before you do something crazy like kiss him. 

Steps away from the front door you think you’ve made it. Can almost feel the relief of the cool breeze cooling down your skin that seems to be burning up from where Steve was touching you. You're so close, less than a foot away when you realize you weren’t quick enough. 

A hand wraps around your forearm, a large calloused hand that you’d know anywhere. Shoulders slumped in defeat and you turn to face him, not all the way because you don’t think you could handle it, but enough to acknowledge his presence. “Harrington, I gotta go. You know how my mom is, this’ll be held over my head for weeks if I’m late.” Lies. All lies. Your mom fully expects you to sleep at Robins tonight. He’s quiet for what feels like hours but is really only seconds before he speaks, “Let me give you a ride then. You’ll be home in less than 5.”

Now you know that cannot happen. You cannot be in his car that smells like him. You cannot watch the way his hands grip the wheel, and you know you won’t be able to look away. You cannot be locked in a car with him where you know he’ll try and figure out why you’ve been acting so weird tonight. And honestly you just cannot be around him right now without feeling like you’re going to faint. 

“No, no, don't worry about it, it’s a quick walk and I could use the fresh air! I’m feeling a little…off right now anyways so I wouldn’t mind being alone. Go finish the movie! Love you, see you, have fun!” And before he can react or try to argue with you, reaching up on your tiptoes you plant a quick kiss to his cheek, lips tingling as you turn and run out the door, hoping to god or whoever is listening that Steve doesn’t come after you. 

What you don’t see as you’re running down the sidewalk is your best friend standing in the doorway with his hand hovering over his cheek where you just kissed him and a blush crawling up his neck as those quick seconds play on a loop in his head for the rest of the movie. 

 ****************************************

It’s been a few days since movie night. The night you’re refusing to think about but also the one you can’t seem to get out of your head. More specifically the sound of Steve calling you baby and the feel of his fingers brushing against your throat. 

Well you’ve tried not to think about it. 

You’re not sure why this is happening now. You’ve liked him for as long as you can remember so why all of a sudden do you feel like panting when your skin touches his? Why now are his little smirks and pet names enough to bring you to your knees? Over the years you’ve done good, so good, at keeping yourself together in front of him, letting his comments and flirting roll off your back. But now…now you can’t be in the same room without wanting to tug on his hair or leave marks on his chest or feel so desperate to taste him that it drives you insane. 

You don’t know what caused this switch to flip but it fucking sucks. It sucks because besides all of that, he’s still your best friend. Yeah, it’s ungodly how hot he is but he’s also still the guy who buys you your favorite ice cream when you’ve had a rough day, who goes to see scary movies with you when no one else will because you’re the only one that likes them. He’s saved you, cared for you, loved you for a few years now and honestly that just makes it worse! 

He’s mouthwatering AND a good guy. Fuck him for that. 

In the few days since you’ve seen him he’s called. 11 times? Maybe more. And you’ve been conveniently in the shower or asleep or anything else your mother can make up while you try and figure out what you’re going to say to him. The problem with this is that the longer you avoid him, the more awkward and hard this is going to be. 

So when you wake up today, 4 days after movie night, you decide it’s time to be a big girl and talk to him. Not about your feelings, god no! But it is time to at least try to be normal around him and to stop avoiding him. You already know he’s gonna look like a kicked puppy, big brown eyes staring down at you while you try and justify not talking to him for days. You’re fucked. So fucked. 

Walking downstairs you hear the phone ringing and your heart drops. Maybe you’re not ready for this. Maybe your family can just move! That should work. You’ll miss everyone but honestly this seems like your best option at this point. 

Your dad is gone for the day, your mom is standing at the counter with her purse on her shoulder like she’s about to walk out the door with her mouth open, ready to give Steve yet another excuse to why you can’t talk to him. But you’re brave. You’re a big girl who can handle a phone call with your best friend. Your hot best friend you're madly in love with and want to climb like a tree. 

Your hand is out and reaching for the phone before you can talk yourself out of it, a sigh of relief leaving your mother as she practically throws it at you, running for the door before you change your mind. It’s by your ear for a good few seconds before you hear him, his voice raspy and deep so you know he’s just woken up and it makes your whole body buzz. 

“Hello?” 

It’s now or never. Never sounds nice. “Hey! How ya been? How’s it going? How was the movie?” The questions pour out of you so quickly you’re not sure he can even understand what you’re saying but you hold your breath and wait anyway. 

“How’s it going? Are you kidding me? Fuckin’ Christ! You’ve taken about 12 showers in 4 days and couldn’t be bothered to talk to me, why don’t you tell me how it’s going.” So he was upset. Totally fair. 

“Don’t be mad at me, please.” It was the first thing that came out of your mouth and you knew it was stupid but you couldn’t help it. He deserved to be mad at you, to yell and cuss and whatever else he deemed fit. But now that you had heard his voice again for the first time in days, the thought of him being upset with you made you want to cry, even though you had done this! 

You heard him take a deep breath and knew he was running his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends the way he always did when he was stressed. “M‘not mad, sweetheart. I mean, maybe a little but I was more worried! That something had happened or I had done something or…I don’t know. Was just worried sick and…god I just fuckin’ missed you.” 

Had you mentioned that you were fucked? His words hit you a ton of bricks, any thoughts you had about moving on or maybe distancing yourself gone in an instant. Because he was worried. And he missed you. He fuckin’ missed you. And god you loved him so much it hurt, so much you could feel it in your fingertips and toes like little zaps of electricity when you thought of him or heard his voice. 

You were gone for Steve Harrington. 

“I..m’so sorry, Stevie. I missed you too, so much and I’m so sorry and I’m just…I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, you never do! I’ve just been a mess and my minds been a mess and I thought some time to myself would help me but really it's just..it doesn’t matter. What matters is I’m sorry and I missed you.” 

“S’okay, bunny. You alright? Can talk to me about anything, you know. I’m not…I know I’m not always the best at this stuff but I’d be good for you. I’ll listen to ya all day, do whatever I can to help you. Wanna come over? Movie night just the two of us? I’ll order you pizza and get you extra buttery popcorn and some ice cream, promise.” 

The thought of being alone with Steve sends red lights flashing through your brain but when he sounds so…god when he’s saying all the right things in a voice you’d dare describe as whiny you can’t help but to want to drop everything and all but crawl to him. 

So at the expense of your sanity you agree quickly, promising you’ll be there by 8 o’clock and hang up the phone before he can call you sweetheart or bunny again running up the stairs to take the coldest shower you’ve ever taken that does nothing to erase the thoughts of Steve from your mind. 

  *****************************************

The walk to Steve’s was surprisingly calm. You weren’t freaking out completely, just a little nervous but that was nothing new to you when it came to spending time with Steve, especially alone. 

Unfortunately for you, that calm lasted for all of about 10 minutes. 

In theory it was a good idea to spend some time with Steve after ignoring him for days. It was an okay idea to agree to a movie night with your best friend. Was. 

But now that you’re standing on his porch and his door was just thrown open to reveal a freshly showered Steve, it seems like all of this was a horrible idea. 

An awful, terrible, horribly bad idea. 

Awful because you can see little beads of water from his freshly washed hair dropping and running down his throat. Awful because the urge to lean forward and run your tongue over them is so strong you swear your mouth waters a little bit. 

Terrible because he’s wearing that goddamn white t-shirt that is hugging his arms so tight and since when did his arms start to look like that? Awful because that same damn shirt is tight over his chest too. It fits him so well you can see it snug against his tummy and waist. It fits him like a glove and your hands clench at your sides to keep from touching him. 

And this is bad. So horribly bad because he’s wearing his favorite pair of light wash denim jeans that cling to his thighs so nicely you feel your knees wobble. One of your hands comes up to your mouth to run over your chin, subconsciously making sure you’re not actually drooling despite the way you wish you could drop to your knees and spend hours leaving marks on those thighs. You can’t see his ass and you’re praying to god he doesn’t turn around so you don’t have to suffer through seeing how his jeans hug him just right. 

While your mind is running a million miles a minute with thoughts of Steve, you realize you actually haven’t said anything. Haven’t made a move to greet him or walk in, instead just standing there with what you imagine is a slack jaw and wide eyes. Willing yourself to meet his gaze, you somehow manage to drag your eyes off his thighs and bring them up, up, up until you meet his. 

He definitely does not look like a kicked puppy right now. Those brown eyes are darker and he’s wearing a smirk that would make you do anything he asked. He cocks his eyebrow at you, amusement clear in his face as you try and collect yourself. 

“You look starved, honey. Wanna come in?” 

   *********************************

After the initial embarrassment wears off, you feel a little better. Somehow managing to brush off his teasing as if you weren’t just devouring him with your eyes, you follow Steve to the kitchen, laughing as he tries to balance all the snacks he’d bought for you in arms. He shot you a glare full of playfulness when you tried to help, insisting that he “was a big boy and could handle the snacks.” 

Now you find yourself on that same couch from last week, much more space between the two of you than there had been then, a good foot and half extra in fact. Steve laughed when he saw you practically throw yourself to the other end of the couch, hand reaching out for you with a little pout on his lips. “Think I’m gonna bite you or something?” God I wish. Please please please bite me! 

But instead you held out your hand reluctantly, fingers twisting with his as he tugged you toward him. Movie night flashed in your head. His clothed thigh just inches away from yours, arm thrown over your shoulders and a cheeky grin on his face as he pulled you into his side. A satisfied hum was heard and you could have sworn you heard him mumble under his breath, sounding a lot like “much better” but it was hard to hear anything with the smell of him clouding your senses. 

Trying to get your thoughts off of him you reach forward to grab the dvd case laying on the table, a small smile gracing your lips as you see what he had picked. “John Carpenter's Halloween. I thought you said you’d never watch this?” This time when you turned to him, he was the one with red cheeks and shy smile as he glanced between the movie and you. A small shrug and wink was thrown your way, “S’one of your favorites. You should know you’re the exception to my rules.” 

You’re fucked. 

Heart pounding in your chest all you could manage was a smile and a small “thank you” before turning away, hoping he’d get up and start the movie so you’d have something to distract you from how sweet he was, watching a scary movie you know he doesn’t want to watch just because it’ll make you happy. 

It was about halfway through the movie when it happened. 

Everything was going well! You were snuggled into his side, actually paying attention to the movie and not sitting there distraught over being so close to him. You were so invested you hadn’t noticed your hand slip to his thigh during a scene that had made you jump. 

But Steve noticed. 

Too engrossed in your movie to see how your hand was holding his upper thigh and it definitely would have been too high if you’d been paying attention. You didn’t notice this or the way Steve was now on red alert, whole body tense with his hand gripping the couch cushion and his eyes trained on your hand as if to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. 

He could do this, he could ignore your hand and let you watch your movie. It would be fine. He’ll just slip into the bathroom when it’s over or wait till you go home to take care of his now aching cock. And god was he aching. He didn’t dare move, too nervous that you’d get all weird and fidgety like you’d been. This was the closest you’d been to him without seeming freaked out in weeks and he was not about to ruin that. 

The smell of your lavender shampoo overwhelmed him, a groan threatening to spill out while you sat there so unaware of how beautiful you looked just existing. He noticed everything about you. The slope of your little button nose and the way your lips, your perfect pink lips, parted just so when you were lost in thought. He noticed how your cheeks would turn the prettiest shade of red when he called you baby or honey or sweetheart. And he loved it, craved it even. He couldn’t tell if it was because of him or if you were just a sensitive little thing in general. He’d take what he could get with you, even if he had to live off your rosy cheeks and holding your pinky for the rest of his life. 

“Fuck, honey, m’sorry but you have got to move your hand, please.” Steve’s voice in your ear so suddenly made you jump, a small yelp leaving your lips as you turned to see what he was talking about. You didn’t even realize you were touching him! But one look down at this thigh and you gasped, cheeks burning as your eyes moved from your hand clinging to his thigh over to now very noticeable bulge straining against those light wash jeans. Ripping your hand away as if he’d burned you, a string of curses and apologies flew out as you scrambled to move as far away as possible. 

If he looked pained with your hand on his thigh then he looked downright miserable now that you’d taken it away. “Don’t have to run away from me, honey. M’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you I just…fuck I couldn’t sit still with you holding onto me like that.” He did his best to tug you back and you let him. “Sorry, Stevie. I wasn’t…I didn’t, I was just watching the movie I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

He looked at you with furrowed brows, eyes jumping all over your face like he knew something you didn’t, like he knew something you should know. Neither of you said anything, just stared at each other for some time before he sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch before coming back to look at you again. 

Hand cradling your cheek he gave you a small, tired small like he couldn’t believe you could possibly make him uncomfortable. That is not the word he would use. “Silly girl, I’m not uncomfortable because your hand was on me. I’m uncomfortable because your hand on me is making me wanna pin you down and fuck you so hard you can’t think straight.”

Oh. Oh. 

Lips parted you just stared at him, not sure you’d be able to form a coherent thought let alone words right now. He wanted to fuck you? Since when? Why hasn’t he ever brought this up? Doesn’t he know you’d do anything he asked of you? 

Steve let you process, could see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours and your eyes switching from looking at him to looking at where his cock was pressing up against the zipper of his pants. Maybe he’d said too much, gone too far. He was almost certain now that you liked him, wanted him, but maybe it was too overwhelming to be so blunt with you. 

“Y’know what baby? I can see you freaking out and I didn’t mean to make you nervous so I’m gonna go to the bathroom, alright? Gonna take care of this real quick and then we can finish the movie, can start another one if you want. I’ll be right back and we can figure this out later.” It was him getting off the couch that broke you out of whatever spell you were under, hand wrapping around his arm and if you weren’t so desperate for this, for him, you’d be embarrassed by the look of panic in your eyes at the thought of not getting to see this, to make him feel good. 

“Please stay. Just…fuck just stay, okay?” 

Both of you paused, staring at each other and waiting for someone to move or to breathe or just do something. A soft “okay” was murmured between you, Steve settling back into the couch as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Fuck was this really happening? 

“Whatever you want to happen can happen, baby.” 

You definitely didn’t mean to say that out loud but now that you had, a little burst of courage hit you and you just let it pour out. “Didn’t mean to say that out loud I just..I didn’t…I’m nervous. You make me nervous. I want this. I want this so bad you have no idea but I didn’t know you wanted this so now my head is fucked and I’m rambling and kinda freaking out but you can stay. You can stay and I can watch or I can help or whatever you want just..stay. Ok?” You dared a glance up at Steve, his eyes wide and a grin broke out on his face. He looked as if you’d just handed him the moon not offered to watch him get off. 

Taking your hand in his he gave you a squeeze, “We’ll go slow. I can start and you can watch and if you wanna do more, feel fucking free, honey. But if you don’t, that’s fine. If you want me to stop, say the word. You’re in charge here,” he paused, lifting his hand to take my chin between his fingers so I’d be forced to meet his eyes, “and for the record, there hasn’t been I second I've known you where I haven’t wanted this. I’ll take anything you give me, swear it. Whatever you want, any way you want.” 

“Kiss me, please.” 

He didn’t need to be told twice, moving his hand to cup your cheek and pulling you toward him, his lips pressing against yours soft at first, testing the waters and trying to keep you calm. His lips were just as soft as you’d imagined, sweet like the candy he’d been eating earlier. You groaned against him, pushing closer and opening your mouth to invite him in, the thought of his tongue on yours enough to have you reaching your hands into his hair to tug him closer, closer until there wasn’t an inch of space between you. 

He pulled back first, a string of spit connecting the two of you and he cursed at the sight, “Jesus, fuck I can’t believe you’ve kept this sweet, pretty mouth away from me. S’not nice, baby. So mean to me, yeah?” If you thought you were desperate before it was nothing compared to now, now that you’d had a taste of him. 

“M’sorry Stevie, so sorry, not gonna keep em from you anymore. Promise, promise, promise.” You’re barely making sense, your head spinning and your body on fire. Foreheads pressed together you tried to catch your breath, but you couldn’t think or breathe or function when he was this close to you with his swollen, spit kissed lips just inches away from yours. 

Coming out of your post-kiss haze you move back beside Steve, eager and desperate to finally see him, all of him. His eyes widen as your hands go to the button of his jeans, tugging relentlessly and you're just so cute he has to laugh. Eager too and fuck how did he get so lucky?

“Take em off, please. Want them off, Stevie.” You’re full on pouting now and it takes everything in you not to cry. You’d do it if he wanted, you’d do anything. But he doesnt let it get that far, taking your hands off his jeans and cooing at you and it makes you feel a little pathetic but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he’s about to finally pull down his pants. 

He does so wordlessly, eyes bouncing from his lap to your face every few seconds like he’s checking in on you, making sure he’s not missing anything and that you still want this. It makes your tummy flutter and your heart race, his caring for you. His pants pushed down to his knees is all he can manage, head too fuzzy thinking about you and how he’s so hard it hurts worse than it ever has.

As soon as his jeans were out of your way you were staring, gawking really, at the white boxers sitting so prettily on his hips that were doing nothing to hide how hard, how big he was. A small wet patch forming where you know his tip is resting and it makes your mouth water. He’s just so hot. So hot and it makes it even better that this is because of you. Fuck.

A beg was on the tip of your tongue but before you could he put you out of your misery. Lifting his hips up you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep still while he pulled his boxers down, pretty, messy, cock slapping against his stomach. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steve! You’re so…I’m…fuck.” He breathed out a laugh which quickly turned to a wince when we saw how you were looking at him, at his cock. He felt himself twitch under your stare and you swear your mouth just fell open as if it was meant to be. 

His hand drifted towards his cock, eyes still on you to make sure you were okay. You gave him a nod and the sigh of relief you both had when he finally wrapped his hand around himself would have made you laugh if you weren’t throbbing. His head fell back against the couch and you were torn between watching him touch himself or watching his face while he did it. The former won, your eyes trailing the way his hand moved slowly, teasing the both of you. 

“S’pretty, you’re so pretty…” You’re not even sure you were talking to him, more just to yourself but he heard you nonetheless. His hips jerked at that, a small moan slipping past his swollen lips as he turned his head toward you, watching you with hooded eyes. I could watch this forever, you thought. 

You couldn’t believe it. A few days ago you were thinking of ways to never speak to Steve again and now here you were, watching him stroke his cock in front of you and looking at him as if he was your last meal. He held his hand out, a silent plea for something but you didn’t know what, not until he spoke.

“So good, baby, so pretty. Can you ju-just spit on my hand for me, honey? Lick it, spit on it, anything you want, I just need you please.” His words were slurred and if you hadn’t spent the last few hours together you would think he was drunk. He seemed so out of it, but in the best way. Like he didn’t just want you but needed you. It made you feel good, better than you ever had and it gave you a spark of bravery you were missing before. 

Knocking his hand out of your way you leaned forward with cautious eyes, watching as he tried to figure out what you were doing until it dawned on him and his cock twitched in his hand. You leaned forward, face hovering inches above him and spit, both of you watching as it dropped from your mouth to his tip, covering the top of his hand as he began to stroke himself again. His lips parted in an “o”, eyes squeezed shut and his tummy clenching as he let out the loudest moan you had heard, so loud and strong you felt yourself clenching around nothing.

You were wet but with Steve looking and sounding like that you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how bad you were aching right now, far too focused on Steve and how his thighs were starting to shake a little and his hips were starting to move faster and more uneven. 

“C-can I?” 

His eyes shot open, head shaking furiously before he had even fully understood what you were asking. He knew he wouldn't last more than ten seconds if you touched him but he couldn’t care less. All he could think about was how pretty you were, how good he was feeling, how you had just fucking spit on his cock. He would take whatever you gave him. 

With a whine that you would replay in your mind for the rest of your life he took his hand off, tugging yours closer to take his place. Both of you moaned at the contact and you were almost convinced you could cum just from touching him. “Help me, I want you to feel good, please.” He looked like a bobblehead as he nodded, putting his much larger hand over yours and giving it a squeeze, helping you to stroke him just how he liked, though anything from you would feel a million times better than his own hand. 

Addicted would be the word to describe it. Now that you had touched him, felt how hot and smooth his cock was in your hand, how pretty it looked all pink and wet and coated in your spit. Steve liked it messy and apparently so did you. You thought you were addicted to his cock, and you were, but nothing prepared you for the absolute filth that started spilling from him once he finally had your hand on him. It made you dizzy and out of breath and goddamn you would have to throw these panties in the trash after this. Absolutely ruined, just like you were. 

“Fuckin’ dreamed about this, ‘bout your hand on my cock, s’good, baby.”

“Don’t think I don’t see you squirming, honey. My pretty girl all wet ‘n needy and I haven’t even touched you. Bet you’re drenched and achy, huh?”

“Gonna make me cum, gonna make a mess of us but I bet you’ll be good and clean it up for me, won’t ya, bunny?”

He was babbling now and you could barely make sense of what he was saying but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t and you didn’t want to. His cock was slick with precum and your spit one of his hands guiding yours in quick strokes while his other was gripping the couch so hard his knuckles were white. 

“M’close, honey…so so close.”

“Please, Stevie…want it, I need it, please.” And that was all it took. No warning, your words taking him by surprise and hitting him like a punch to the gut. He took his hand off, bringing it to your hair and tugging you to him. It was a messy kiss, lips pressed together while he moaned against you, just breathing each other in while he cursed and whined, his hips stilling and you slowed, looking down just in time to see him cum. Your hand and his lower stomach was covered, his hand that was gripping the couch now thrown over his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. 

Chest and neck covered in sweat, he looked good. When he finally had gathered himself enough to look at you, he instantly regretted it. Instead of his innocent best friend, his sweet little bunny, he was looking at a little devil lapping at his cum on her hand like she hadn’t eaten in days. His softening cock twitched against his thighs and he stifled a groan when you hummed happily at the taste. 

“Christ, you’re gonna kill me.” You shrugged half heartedly, not even a little bit of you was sorry. 

“Can we finish the movie now, Stevie? I’ll probably pass out soon you wore me out, but I’m too tired to move.”

He looked down at you a little confused, your cheeks still pink and thighs still clenched together tightly. “You don’t…I can…I wanna take care of you too, sweetheart. Been dying to get a taste of you, know you’re sweet.”

You giggled and even though you were a mess, in every sense of the word, you didn’t think you could handle anymore and told him as such, eyes already feeling droopy and your body sagging against him. “Next time? Promise you can do anything you want to me next time but watching you cum was enough for me.” Your cheeks flamed as if you hadn’t just licked your best friend’s cum off your hand. 

“Alright, honey. Let’s finish your movie, you little vixen. Didn’t even take me out to dinner before you were drooling over my cock. A crime!” His smile was bright as you smacked at his chest and cursed him for teasing you.

You were sure that what had just happened would hit you soon and the panic would set in but for now you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you pressed a kiss to Steve’s bare chest and felt his grin against the top of your head. 

Did I mention I was fucked? 

[vivwritesfics]

Mafia Lando smut request where Lando get jealous and takes out his fustrations out on the reader

I've changed this one up a loooot nc i don't like the frustrations being taken out

More requests I beg

Warnings: smut, p in v, they're cute I swear

"Yeah, and the bullet went right through!"

Ever since her engagement to Lando Norris was announced, she'd been allowed to finally have fun. An arranged marriage sucked, but an arranged marriage between two people that had secretly been together for years didn't suck.

Lando sipped his drink. He himself was meant to be talking business for his father, but he was watching her, watching as she told the story of the time she got shot.

"I bet you've got a wicked scar," George Russell replied.

She held up a finger and passed him her drink. Lando watched, the horror not quite written on his face, as she hitched up her skirt to reveal a pretty grim scar.

Lando damn near choked on his drink. Any higher and her underwear would have been on show.

He didn't mean to march over to her, didn't mean to grab her skirts and lower them over her legs. "Hi, baby," he said, pulling her into his arms.

To anybody else, it looked like a sweet moment between a couple in love. But Lando leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Showing off my scar," she said almost innocently. But the smile playing on her lips revealed that she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Showing your scar off to George?"

She nodded and slipped her hands into his, gently swaying their bodies to the music. "I should take you home," he mused.

"What would you do with me at home?"

His answer was to take her hand and lead her through the hall. Fuck big fancy events.

Lando got her into the car. But, the minute he began driving away, she was slipping off her underwear down her legs and placing it in Landos lap.

"You little shit," he said as he pulled over.

It was late. The roads were quiet; there was no chance of anybody seeing them as Lando pulled her into his lap. He put his seat right back, giving them more room.

His hands gripped her ass. "You gotta stop showing off your scar, baby," he mumbled as he pulled her down onto him. "I don't like George seeing what's mine."

She pulled away from him, eyebrows raised. "What's yours?" She questioned, and Lando's cheeks flushed. "Try that again, Norris."

He gripped her tighter. "I don't like George looking at my girl."

"Better." She leaned down and kissed him.

Getting inside of her was easy work. Lando freed himself from his trousers and bunched up her skirts. Her hands were on his shoulders as she held herself up, allowing Lando to slip inside.

Content, she let out a sigh. "Think we'd crash if we drove home like this?" She asked, laying her head against his chest.

He gave an experimental thrust and she cried out, the noise involuntary. "You really wanna drive home like this?"

She wriggled slightly, and Lando gripped her, holding her still. "Well, think about it." When he thrust his hips towards her own, her words came out a stuttered mess. "If George saw us driving home like this, he'd never ask to see my scar again."

Any other words died in her throat as Lando began to move his hips, to well and truly fuck her. "Shit," she gasped, eyes squeezing shut and teeth meeting his shoulder. She didn't bite down, not hard enough to be considered a bite, anyway.

"'m hoping somebody does drive past," he said, lips meeting her neck, words muffled against her skin. "None of them would try flirting with you again."

She laughed, but her laugh was lost. He knew exactly what he was doing, exactly what put her on the edge. "Jealous, Norris?" It was such a struggle to get the words out, but a miracle that she'd managed it.

"Not... jealous," he answered through grunts. "Just... don't like my girl... being looked at... like... a piece... of... meat."

It had her tumbling over the edge, had Lando stilling inside of her. He kissed her head almost sweetly as the two of them laid against each other, attempting to catch their breaths.

"If you pull out you're gonna ruin my skirt," she mumbled, eyes shut, hand against his chest to feel his erratic heartbeat.

That was fine, they could sit there for a few minutes. Lando didn't mind holding her, but his clothes were sticking to his skin in the most uncomfortable way. "We gotta head home," he said, lips against her hair. "Get in the shower and stuff."

A groan left her own lips as she was lifted up. He slipped out and she climbed back in her seat. "Don't get anything on the leather," he mumbled, tucking himself back into his trousers.

Tucking her skirt under her ass, she made herself comfortable as Lando began driving home, his hand on her knee.

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 3✨

Summary: I hate summaries, so this is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Smut, mention of rape (well, detailed), Language, Angst, Hurt, soft dean (literally), it´s just a loooot

Word Count: 7600

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As another week has passed, Sam entered the kitchen, noticing you sitting alone on the ground, your eyes fixed on the table where Dean had inflicted so much pain upon you. He approached you cautiously, sensing the weight of your emotions hanging heavy in the air.

"Hey", Sam said softly. "How are you holding up?".

You glanced up at him, your eyes weary and filled with sadness. "I'm… I'm trying", you replied hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam sat down beside you, offering a comforting presence as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "I know it's not easy", he said sympathetically.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into Sam's embrace, the weight of your pain almost too much to bear.

"I know it's hard to believe right now, but Dean still loves you", he said gently. "He's hurting too, maybe even more than you realize. He hates himself for what he's done to you, for what the demonic version of himself did. It wasn't the real Dean, you know that, right?".

You nodded slowly, tears brimming in your eyes as you struggle to come to terms with Sam's words. "I want to believe that. But it's so hard, Sam. Every time I look at him, all I can see is… is what he did to me".

"I know", he mumbled. "But you have to remember that Dean would do anything to take back what happened, to make things right between you two. He's fighting his own demons right now, just like you are. And I know that deep down, he's still the man you fell in love with".

"I know it's going to take time", he said gently. "But I truly believe that you and Dean can find your way back to each other. You've been through so much together, and I know that love doesn't just disappear overnight".

"Thank you, Sam", you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you".

Sam smiled warmly, giving your hand another reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to thank me. We're family, and family looks out for each other. We'll get through this together, I promise".

As the days passed, you found yourself greeted each morning by the aroma of freshly prepared meals and the sight of a bouquet of flowers adorning your doorstep. With each delivery, your heart ached with a mixture of longing and hesitation, unsure of how to respond to Dean's gestures of remorse and affection.

Yet, despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the sincerity of his efforts. Each handwritten note contained memories of the happiest moments you had shared together, reminding you of the love and joy that had once filled your relationship.

With each meal and each note, Dean sought to bridge the gap between you, to remind you of the bond that had once bound you together. And though you remained guarded, the warmth of his gestures began to thaw the icy walls around your heart, slowly but surely.

As you sat alone in your room, reading through Dean's heartfelt words and savoring the meals he had prepared, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope stirring within you. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for forgiveness and reconciliation after all. And with that thought in mind, you found yourself daring to believe in the possibility of a brighter future, one where love and trust could prevail over pain and sorrow.

As the days passed, you found yourself slowly opening up to the idea of letting him back into your life, of giving him a chance to make amends for the pain he had caused.

With each meal he prepared and each note he left, Dean showed you that he was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness and rebuild the trust that had been shattered.

Two weeks later, as Sam ordered Pizza, Dean made his way towards sam and the delicious smell. As Dean reached for the pizza, a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. Startled, he turned to see you sitting next to Sam, your gaze fixed on your hands clasped tightly in your lap. For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.

But then, a flicker of hope ignited within him as he realized what this moment meant. After weeks of isolation and silence, you had finally taken a step forward.

With cautious optimism, Dean approached you, his movements slow and deliberate. He sat down beside you, careful not to startle you, his heart pounding with uncertainty.

"Hey", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's, uh, it's good to see you".

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his briefly before flickering away. Dean's heart ached at the sight of your pain.

As the dinner progressed, a heavy silence hung in the air, broken only by the occasional clinking of utensils against plates. Dean tried to muster up the courage to speak, to break the tension that seemed to suffocate the room, but the words caught in his throat.

Your gaze fixed on your plate, unable to meet Dean's eyes or engage in conversation. Every fiber of your being screamed with discomfort, your stomach churning with anxiety from being in such close proximity to him.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He longed to reach out to you, to apologize for everything he had put you through, but he knew that words alone would never be enough to mend the damage he had caused.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the tension with a forced smile. "So, uh, how's the pizza?", he asked, attempting to steer the conversation away from the elephant in the room.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak, your throat tight with emotion. Dean swallowed hard, his own discomfort palpable as he forced himself to take a bite of his pizza, the taste turning to ash in his mouth.

Despite his best efforts to push aside his guilt and make things right, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him like a dark cloud. As the dinner dragged on, he couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to truly make amends for the pain he had caused you.

As the tension lingered, Sam attempted to lighten the mood with small talk, but his efforts fell flat against the weight of the unspoken turmoil between you and Dean. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the heaviness in the air suffocating.

Dean's heart ached with every glance he stole in your direction, the sight of your pain etched into every line of your face piercing him like a knife. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you, to beg for your forgiveness.

For you, the meal was a torturous ordeal, you struggled to suppress the torrent of emotions threatening to consume you.

After dinner, Sam tentatively suggested watching a movie together, hoping to provide a distraction from the heavy atmosphere that lingered between you and Dean. He could see the strain etched on both of your faces and desperately wanted to find a way to bring a sense of normalcy back to your lives.

You hesitated, the thought of spending more time in Dean's presence filling you with dread. But with a small nod from Sam, you reluctantly agreed.

As Sam set up the movie, you and Dean found yourselves sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a palpable distance separating you. The air was thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension, but for the moment, you both focused on the screen in front of you, allowing the movie to serve as a temporary escape from the turmoil that surrounded you.

Despite the heaviness that still hung in the air, there was a glimmer of hope in Sam's eyes as he watched the two of you attempt to coexist in the same space. He knew that healing would take time and effort, but he was determined to do whatever it took to bring his family back together, one small step at a time. And as the movie played on, he silently prayed that tonight would mark the beginning of a new chapter for all of you.

As the movie played on, Dean found it nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from you, his heart aching with every fleeting glance he stole in your direction.

A torrent of guilt and remorse washed over him, threatening to drown him in its depths.

In that moment, Dean would have given anything to ease your suffering, to take away the pain that he had inflicted upon you. If cutting out his own heart and offering it to you would mean healing your wounded soul, he would do it in a heartbeat.

But as he sat there, watching you, he felt utterly powerless, his own torment mirrored in your tear-stained eyes.

Another week passed, and tentatively, you began to open up to Dean once more. Your heart clenched with uncertainty as you heard his voice, but you knew that avoiding him forever would only prolong the pain for both of you. So, you found yourselves sitting across from each other at the large map-table.

Dean's question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. "Are you able to sleep again?", he asked, his voice laced with concern and regret.

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of sleepless nights and haunted dreams flooding back to you. But then, with a small nod, you found the strength to answer. "Yeah, I am", you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

It was a small victory, but it felt like a significant step forward.

"I'm so sorry", he whispered, his words heavy with regret. "I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for what I did to you".

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you met his gaze. "You hurt me, Dean", you said, your voice quivering with emotion. "You hurt me in ways I never thought possible".

Dean's expression crumpled, his heart breaking as he listened to your words. "I know", he murmured, his voice choked with tears. "I know and I hate myself for it".

"You… you raped me, Dean", you continued, the words catching in your throat. "You violated me in the worst possible way".

Tears fell down Dean's face as he listened to your confession, the weight of his actions bearing down on him like a crushing weight. "I'm so sorry", he repeated. "I'm so sorry for what I did to you".

You took a shaky breath, your heart heavy with pain. "I want you to understand", you said, your voice wavering with emotion. "I want you to understand what you did to me".

"You shoved me against the table, Dean. You didn't care that I was begging you to stop. You didn't care that I was in pain".

Dean´s voice choked with tears. "I know, I know. I was a monster. I should have never—". But you cut him off. "You broke my wrists, Dean. Do you even realize how much that hurt? Every time I moved, every time I tried to do anything, I was in agony".

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never should have touched you".

By now, your voice was trembling with emotion. "And my ribs, Dean. You broke them too. Every breath felt like knives stabbing into my chest. I couldn't even breathe without feeling like I was going to pass out". Tears started streaming down your face.

"And then you… you fucked me until I bled, Dean. Do you understand what you did to me? Do you understand how much pain you caused?". You paused. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you, Dean. But I want you to know… I want you to know what you did to me".

Dean sat there with teary eyes and wet cheeks, his heart breaking with each word that fell from your lips. He listened to the pain in your voice, the anguish in your eyes.

Every detail you recounted of the horrors he had inflicted upon you pierced his soul like a thousand knives. He couldn't bear to look away, couldn't bear to turn his gaze from your tear-streaked face.

In that moment, he felt the weight of his actions crush him with a force he had never known before. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to hold you close. But he knew that he didn't deserve it, knew that he had caused you too much pain to ever be worthy of your love again.

All he could do was sit there, his heart heavy with regret, and pray that somehow, someday, he could find a way to make amends for the irreparable damage he had done.

"I lay there for hours", you confessed, the memories still vivid in your mind. "I couldn't move, couldn't even catch my breath. Every inch of my body was screaming in pain, and all I could do was lie there and pray for it to end".

You continue, your voice laced with bitterness and sorrow. "After that, I stopped looking for you", you admit, the words heavy on your tongue. "I stopped trying to save you, stopped caring".

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of your words sinking in.

Dean's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to your words, his knuckles white from the tight grip he held on his emotions. "I wanted to kill myself", he confessed in a voice barely above a whisper. "That's how much I hated myself for what I did to you".

Your words cut through the heavy silence like a knife, each syllable dripping with the bitterness of your pain. "I'm already dead because of what you did to me", you said, your voice laced with a coldness that sent a shiver down Dean's spine.

His eyes closed in anguish, the weight of your words bearing down on him like a crushing burden. You were his everything, the love of his life, and the thought of spending his days without you was unbearable.

"I wanted to marry you, to build a future together", Dean whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I wanted to have children with you, to grow old with you by my side. But I… I broke you".

The pain and heartache radiating from him was palpable, and despite your own suffering, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of empathy for the man who had once held your heart in his hands.

"I know", you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I know you're hurting, Dean. But… but what you did to me, it's something I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive".

Dean's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I don't expect you to forgive me, not after what I've done".

During the following two weeks, Dean spared no effort to demonstrate that he was no longer the monster he had once been. He cooked for you, cleaned the bunker without being asked, and even went out of his way to avoid any situation that might make you uncomfortable. Every gesture was infused with a desperate longing for redemption, a silent plea for your forgiveness.

As you sat in the TV room, enveloped by the soft glow of the screen, a bowl of popcorn nestled in your lap, you felt a sense of tentative peace settle over you. It was the first evening Dean and you had been alone since Sam and Cas had left on their hunt, and for once, the weight of the past seemed to lift ever so slightly from your shoulders.

Lost in the movie playing before you, you barely noticed when Dean appeared in the doorway. His eyes lingered on you, filled with longing.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. But then, with a hesitant step forward, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room.

"Mind if I join you?", he asked, his voice tentative as he gestured to the empty space beside you on the couch.

You hesitated, torn between the desire to push him away and the faint glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time. After a moment's pause, you nodded silently, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.

As Dean settled in beside you, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with gratitude and relief.

Dean watched you, his gaze lingering on your profile as you became engrossed in the movie playing on the screen. A flicker of recognition crossed his features as he realized it was the same movie from your first night together in the bunker—the night when everything had felt so new and full of promise.

"You remember this?", he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced at you, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips as memories of that night flooded back. "Yeah", you replied, your voice tinged with warmth. "It feels like a lifetime ago".

Dean's expression softened at your words, sadness clouding his features. "I miss those days", he admitted. "I miss us".

You turned to look at him. "I miss us too", you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, lost in memories of happier times.

Dean hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope or forgiveness. "Are you willing to give me another chance?", he asked quietly. "All I want is to make things right, to hold you in my arms and ease your pain. I want to heal what I destroyed, to show you that I'm not the same person I was back then".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret reflected in their depths. Part of you wanted to believe him. But another part of you was still wary, still hesitant to open yourself up to the possibility of being hurt again.

"I don't know, Dean", you admitted. "I want to believe that you're capable of being the man I once loved. But… I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt again".

Dean's heart sank at your words. "I understand", he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to show you that I'm worthy of a second chance. Just… please don't give up on me".

As you sat there, grappling with the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you, memories of your past with Dean flooded your mind. You couldn't deny the depth of your love for him, even now, despite the pain and betrayal you had endured.

You remembered the way he used to make you laugh, the warmth of his embrace, and the way his touch could make your heart race with excitement. Despite everything that had happened, a part of you still longed for those moments of intimacy and connection that you had once shared with him.

But alongside the memories of love and happiness, there was also the lingering shadow of pain. You couldn't forget the agony of that fateful night, the way Dean had shattered your trust and left you broken and bruised.

Yet, as you looked into his eyes now, you saw the same love and longing reflected back at you.

Dean's voice trembled with emotion as he opened up to you, his words raw and filled with longing. "I've missed you so much", he mumbled. "I miss the way you used to sleep on my chest, your soft breathing. I miss the sound of your laughter, the way it could light up a room and make all the darkness disappear".

He reached out tentatively, as if afraid you might pull away, and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Without you, I'm lost".

You felt a tug at your heartstrings as you listened to his words, seeing the pain and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything that had happened between you, you couldn't deny the depth of his love for you, or the longing in his voice as he spoke of wanting to make things right.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you locked eyes with Dean, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. A whirlwind of emotions churned inside you—fear, longing, uncertainty—each vying for dominance as you grappled with the decision before you.

Part of you wanted to pull away, to retreat into the safety of your own walls and protect yourself from the possibility of being hurt again. But another part of you, a part that still held onto the memories of love and happiness you had shared with Dean, yearned for connection, for healing, for the chance to rebuild what had been broken between you.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart that threatened to burst from your chest, you leaned in slowly, ever so slowly, towards Dean. Each inch felt like an eternity, the weight of your decision heavy on your shoulders as you closed the distance between you.

As your lips met his in a tentative kiss, a surge of emotion washed over you, overwhelming in its intensity. It was a moment of vulnerability, of raw honesty, as you allowed yourself to let go of the pain and hurt that had consumed you for so long.

You cupped Dean's face in your hands, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours.

Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure where to place his hands, afraid of scaring you away with too much intimacy. His heart clenched at the touch of your lips, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he finally felt the softness of your kiss again after so long.

Despite the pain that lingered in your heart, there was a sense of comfort in Dean's embrace, a familiarity that whispered of happier times gone by. For a moment, the world fell away as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the moment, each kiss a silent promise of hope and redemption.

But beneath the surface, there was still a lingering sense of uncertainty, a fear of the unknown that threatened to overshadow the fragile connection you were trying to rebuild. And yet, as you pulled away from the kiss, a glimmer of hope flickered in your heart.

With a shaky, uncertain voice, you whispered the words that had been lingering on the tip of your tongue, the silent plea of your heart reaching out to him. "Hold me", you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the words trembling with the weight of your uncertainty.

Dean's heart skipped a beat at your request, his chest tightening with a mixture of hope and fear. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest as though afraid you might slip away if he let go.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin as tears welled in your eyes.

Dean's hands trembled as he gingerly brushed over your back, his touch tentative yet filled with a quiet tenderness. With each gentle stroke, he tried to convey the depth of his remorse, the ache in his heart mirrored in the way his fingers traced soothing patterns against your trembling form.

You clung to him tightly, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt as you let out the pain and anguish. Your body shook with the force of your sobs, the emotional turmoil threatening to consume you entirely.

With a tenderness born of regret and longing, Dean pulled you closer to him, his lips hovering over your forehead as he held you in his embrace. His touch was gentle, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as you continued to sob against his chest.

Tears welled in Dean's eyes as he looked down at you, his heart heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the knowledge of the pain he had caused you.

"I love you", he whispered softly, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything in this world. I'm so sorry for what I've done to you, for the pain I've caused. But please know that my love for you has never faltered, not for a single moment".

As you looked up at him, your tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips betraying the turmoil within you, Dean's thumb gently brushed away your tears with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His eyes searched yours, silently asking for permission, for reassurance that this fragile moment of connection wouldn't shatter beneath the weight of your shared past.

With a trembling breath, you leaned into his touch, your heart pounding in your chest as his lips met yours once more. The kiss was featherlight, tentative yet filled with an undeniable longing—a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a chance to start anew.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you entwined in a moment of raw emotion and longing. With a newfound sense of courage, you straddled Dean's legs, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as you deepened the kiss, your lips moving with a desperate urgency born of years of pent-up emotion and longing.

Dean's hands remained at his sides, a silent testament to his fear of causing you further pain or discomfort. He was surprised by your boldness, by the intensity of your kiss, but he dared not move, afraid that any sudden gesture might startle you and send you fleeing from his arms once more.

Instead, he surrendered to the moment, allowing himself to be consumed by the warmth of your lips, the softness of your touch.

As the kiss intensified, your tongue seeking entrance to his mouth, you felt a surge of desire coursing through your veins. Your hands roamed over Dean's broad shoulders, urging him to reciprocate, to touch you in return. Yet, he remained still, his hands trembling slightly at his sides as if unsure of what to do.

But then, as you pressed closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace, you felt it—a hardness pressing against you, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Dean's erection, unmistakable beneath the thin fabric of your pajamas, sent a jolt of electricity coursing through your body, freezing you in place.

For a moment, you were paralyzed, unsure of how to proceed. The realization of what was happening between you, of the undeniable attraction and desire that pulsed between your bodies, sent your mind reeling. Could this be happening? Could Dean still desire you, after everything that had transpired between you?

But before you could gather your thoughts, Dean's voice broke through.

"I… I'm sorry", Dean murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean to… I just…".

His voice trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor as if unable to meet your eyes. You could see the conflict etched on his face, the turmoil raging within him as he grappled with his own desires and fears.

"It's okay", you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you reached out to cup his cheek, gently guiding his gaze back to yours.

But even as you spoke the words, uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your mind. Could you truly forgive Dean for what he had done? Could you trust him again, after the pain and betrayal he had inflicted upon you?

As you took Dean's hands in yours, feeling the tremble of your own shaking fingers, you guided them slowly and cautiously to your hips. The simple act of touch sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, causing Dean's heart to race and his body to react with a twitch of arousal.

But despite the undeniable chemistry between you, Dean remained hesitant, his eyes searching yours for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort. He wanted to be sure, absolutely sure, that you were okay with this, that you were ready to take this step together.

For a moment, the air between you crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the space between your bodies. But then, as you met his gaze with unwavering determination, Dean felt a surge of courage welling up inside him.

With a shaky breath, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. It was soft, gentle, a silent promise of all the things left unsaid between you.

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, his words laced with both desire and restraint. "Do you… Do you want to go to our bedroom?", he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation or reluctance.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you at his words, a mixture of longing and apprehension swirling in your chest. The idea of being alone with Dean in the intimacy of your shared bedroom filled you with both excitement and trepidation, a reminder of the love and passion that had once defined your relationship.

But as you looked into Dean's eyes, seeing the vulnerability, you knew that this was a chance for healing, for closure, for the two of you to finally confront the demons of your past and forge a path forward together.

With a nod, you reached out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it gently as you rose to your feet. "Yes", you whispered.

Dean walked slowly, his footsteps deliberate and measured, as if he were afraid to rush or startle you. His hand, warm and comforting, brushed against yours in a gentle caress, a silent reassurance of his presence by your side.

As you followed behind him, the hallway stretched out before you like an endless expanse, each step echoing the rhythm of your racing heart. And as Dean finally reached the door to your bedroom, he turned to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. Without a word, he reached out and gently pushed the door open, inviting you into the sanctuary of your shared space.

With a shaky breath, you stepped across the threshold, the weight of the past hanging heavy in the air around you. But as Dean closed the door behind you, shutting out the outside world, you felt a sense of peace settle over you.

Dean hesitated for a moment. "Is it okay if I… if I pick you up?", he asked softly.

You nodded slowly, your own voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Yes, that's okay".

With a gentle smile, Dean reached out and scooped you up in his arms, his touch surprisingly tender as he cradled you against his chest. Despite the years that had passed, the memory of his strength and warmth flooded back to you, comforting and familiar.

As he carried you across the room, his movements slow and deliberate, you felt a sense of trust and safety wash over you, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that still existed between you.

And as he carefully lowered you onto the bed, his touch was feather-light against your skin.

As Dean hovered halfway over you, he hesitated, his voice trembling with nerves as he asked, "Would… would it be better if you were on top?".

You noticed the veins on his throat and arms standing out, evidence of the effort he was exerting to hold back for you. "It's alright", he mumbled. "If you want to be on top, it's fine".

His eyes searched yours for a moment, before you nodded slowly and before Dean lowered himself down beside you, his body trembling with anticipation and desire.

Dean´s fingers trembling slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your pajama shirt.

With a gentle touch, he lowered his mouth to your neck, trailing soft kisses along your skin as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he brushed the shirt off your shoulders, revealing your naked breasts to him.

You met his gaze with a mixture of emotions swirling in your eyes—vulnerability, longing, and a hint of fear. But despite the tumultuous storm raging within you, you nodded slowly, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "I'm okay", you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

With a gentle touch, Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he continued to undress you, his touch both reverent and filled with longing.

As you straddled his la, got rid of his shirt and pulled Dean closer, your body pressed against his, you feel the warmth of his skin against yours, sending shivers down your spine. Your nipples graze against his now naked chest, eliciting a soft moan from both of you. Dean's arousal, evident and undeniable, presses eagerly against you.

Dean's hand ventured beneath your pajama pants, his touch sending tingles of anticipation through your body. As his fingers brushed against your skin, he realized you weren't wearing underwear, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. His hand hovered tantalizingly close to your pussy, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Can I touch you there?", he asked quietly.

Dean's heart skipped a beat as he watched you nod slowly, your breath heavy and your heart racing in sync with his own. The anticipation hung thick in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to crackle with electricity. With a nervous bite of your lip, you gave him the permission he sought, sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins.

His hand trembled slightly as it moved lower, tracing the contours of your soft folds. You let out a soft moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively towards his touch.

Dean's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. With each gentle stroke, he teased and tantalized, his fingers dancing over your most intimate parts with a skill that left you breathless. Your head spun with desire as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the brink of ecstasy with each passing moment.

As the heat between you grew, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace. In that moment, there was nothing else that mattered—no past, no future, only the raw, primal desire that burned between you.

As Dean felt the warmth and wetness between your thighs, he knew you were ready. With slow, deliberate movements, he began to ease down your pajama pants, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched for any sign of discomfort or hesitation.

"You okay?", he murmured softly, his voice laced with concern as he continued to undress you.

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts as you struggled to contain your desire. "Yes, Dean", you whispered. "I want this".

With a final tug, your pants were discarded, leaving you completely exposed before him. And as Dean rid himself of his own sweatpants and boxers, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him—powerful and virile, his desire evident in every line and curve of his body.

Your breath hitched as you caught sight of Dean's erection, fear and uncertainty flashing in your eyes as he hovered above you. Sensing your hesitation, Dean froze, his own desire momentarily forgotten as he looked down at you with concern.

"Are you okay?", he asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort or unease.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to find your voice. "I'm just… I'm scared", you admitted.

Dean's expression softened, a look of understanding and compassion flickering in his eyes. "I won't hurt you, I promise", he whispered. "I'll go as slow as you need me to".

Feeling reassured by his words, you let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Thank you", you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As Dean continued to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tension and apprehension creeping into your body. Despite his best efforts to reassure you, you remained nervous and tense, unable to fully let go of the fear that still lingered within you.

Sensing your unease, Dean pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours again. When he saw the hurt reflected in your gaze, his heart clenched.

"What can I do to help you relax?", he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I want to make this special for you, to show you how much I care. Just tell me what you need, and I'll do it".

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to express the turmoil raging within you. But then, with a shaky breath, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need… I need you to be patient with me", you admitted, your words tinged with vulnerability. "I need you to understand that I'm still scared. And I need you to hold me, to reassure me that everything will be okay".

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest in a tight embrace. And as you melted into his arms, you felt a sense of comfort and safety wash over you, the tension slowly beginning to ebb away in the warmth of his embrace.

"I'll be gentle, I promise", he murmured, his voice soothing and tender. "We'll go slow, at your pace. Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?".

You nodded, a sense of trust and gratitude washing over you as you buried your face in his chest. "Okay", you whispered.

With a gentle sigh, Dean leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. His touch was soft and tentative, his lips moving against yours with a tender reverence that made your heart flutter.

As the kiss deepened, you felt his erection pressing against your wet folds, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your lingering apprehension, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry between you, the desire that burned hot and fierce between your bodies.

With a soft moan, you pressed yourself against him, your hips rocking instinctively against his, seeking the delicious friction that would ease the ache deep within you.

Dean’s breath was heavy with anticipation as he looked down at you, his eyes burning with desire and longing. “Can I…?”, he began, nodding towards his between the two of you. His hand moved to his shaft, as if to emphasize his need.

Your heart raced at the thought of finally feeling him inside you again, of surrendering yourself to the passion and intensity of your shared desire. But a flicker of uncertainty danced in your eyes, a lingering reminder of the pain and heartache that had once torn you apart.

“I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with”, he assured you. “I just want to make you feel good, to show you how much I love you”.

With a shaky nod, you reached out and took his hand in yours, guiding him towards you. As his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, you felt the heat and urgency of his desire washing over you, igniting a fire deep within your core.

As Dean pressed slowly inside you, his movements careful and measured as he sought to ease your discomfort. But as he felt you wince beneath him, he immediately stopped, concern flashing in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with worry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you”.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you met Dean’s gaze. “It’s okay”, you assured him, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. “I just… I need a moment”.

Dean nodded understandingly, his heart aching at the sight of your discomfort. “I’ll stop”, he whispered, his voice filled with regret. “I should have been more patient with you, especially after… after everything”.

You reached out and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “You’ve always been patient with me”, you murmured, your voice filled with gratitude and love. “Even before that awful night”.

Dean’s eyes softened at your words. “I just want to make things right”, he whispered.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the wave of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. "I want you to go on", you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to replace those memories of that terrible night with something beautiful, something loving".

Dean's eyes widened in surprise, his heart swelling. "Are you sure?".

You nodded, your gaze never wavering as you met his eyes with unwavering determination. "I'm sure", you whispered. "I want this, Dean. I want us".

As Dean slowly pushed himself inside you, the sensation of being filled with him once again sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly and breathlessly, your body instinctively responding to his touch. But just as Dean buried himself completely within you, the memories of that terrible night crashed over him like a tidal wave.

His movements faltered, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the weight of his past mistakes bearing down on him. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to push the memories aside, to focus on the here and now, on the love and desire that flowed between you. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the haunting images that lingered in the depths of his mind.

Feeling himself going soft again inside you, Dean’s heart clenched with frustration and self-loathing. He wanted nothing more than to give you pleasure, to show you how much he loved you, but the ghosts of his past refused to release their grip on him.

With a heavy sigh, Dean pulled away from you. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I just… I can’t do this right now”. His gaze full of shame, as he got up from the bed and started to get dressed.

As you pulled up the blanket, your heart sank at the sight of Dean's retreating figure. Anxiety gnawed at your insides as you watched him hastily get dressed, his movements tense and hurried. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one more tumultuous than the last.

Was it something you did? Something you said? Was your hesitation the reason he couldn't stay hard? The weight of your own self-doubt threatened to suffocate you as you struggled to make sense of the situation.

Dean couldn't even look at you right now, so consumed was he by his own guilt and remorse.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him hastily getting dressed, his actions leaving you feeling confused and hurt. The weight of your own self-doubt pressed down on you like a heavy burden as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened.

“Did I do something wrong?”, you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you fought to keep the tears at bay. “Was it because of me?”.

Dean paused, his hand hovering over his belt as he turned to face you. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say something, to reassure you that it wasn’t your fault. But before he could utter a word, the door swung open, and Sam burst into the room, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him.

Misinterpreting the situation, Sam’s eyes darted between you and Dean, confusion evident on his face. “What’s going on?”, he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he took in the scene before him.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Part 4

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Taglist: @mayafatimakhan

[8pxl]

hi, just wanted to say that i really love the way you depict light , it’s very similar to how i enjoy painting it

do you have any advice for rendering water ? that’s been a struggle for me lately :(

but i really love what you do! it’s so full of color and life :) keep it up

hi it depends on what water you’re tying to render honestly!! for landscapes that have water i’ll just copy and paste then flip the sky!

for ocean pieces:

waves: i look at a lot of references i mean a loooot and usually i’ll pick out a wave shape that draws me in and try to replicate that! pay attention to the shadows inside the wave and the foam/highlights then just blending from there!!

beach sea foam: again look at a looot of references, once you have what you’d like to make in mind, start with the shapes, then add in the colors step by step, this tutorial is pretty good:

basically i do similar i just start with a basic wave flow, add background color, then the lightest highlights, then add shadows under them for depth and keep doing that until you’re happy with the level of detail! i’ve been drawing for a while and it took me a few years before i could draw ocean/beach waves confidently 😊

[v3nusxsky]

hiiiiii since today it has been a bad day I was thinking if I could request agatha harkness x female reader with loooots of comfort where agatha notice reader is sad and she plans a date at home for her 💛 

thank u sm

My darling

*Authors note~ first attempt at a Drabble for the great Agatha Harkness. Hopefully I’ll do her character some justice with a bit more practice*

Trigger warnings~ reader is sad :( , um hurt and comfort vibes?

Prompt~see ask^^^^

Recently, life seemed to throw you through every loop it could. Your third grade class single handily siphoned any energy you had from your body come the end of the day. Only then you had marking and other tasks to complete. The life of a teacher never really stops. Your mind is always working a mile a minute trying to get everything done, be the best you can be. Yet when you come back to the home you shared with Agnes in west view you don’t find a reprieve.

Entering the house feels more like a struggle than returning to your safe heaven. Your wife, Westview’s very own detective, left another note explaining how she’d be home late. Again. And to not wait up for her. Another lonely evening would be endured before you finally crawled into your bed, the coldness seeping over from her side only serving to remind you that you are alone. She’s there when you wake, unsure of what time she joined you, you carefully walk around the room to start your day. The same routine occurring for weeks now had settled a thick stifling cloud of sadness around you. It’s not that you don’t love your job, or your wife, you just feel so alone these days. So far from what feels right. So unlike yourself yet you have no idea how to fix that.

Returning home, you didn’t even realise her car was parked on the drive, too busy functioning on autopilot mode after a particularly frustrating day. You don’t even notice the faint smell of dinner sitting on the counter as your wife finished touching up her second surprise of the night. Unbeknownst to you, your workaholic wife had noticed the way the light disappeared from your voice as she called to wish you a good night, or the dried tears that stained your cheeks every night as she returned. So after very sternly telling her chief to eat her ass when he requested she stay late to chase a lead on the case she left the station.

“Darling” she murmured coming to hold you as you let your keys clatter onto the plate they rested on. “You’re here?” You didn’t mean for the question to sound so needy, yet you couldn’t help but relax into her arms instantly. “I’m here sweet girl, can’t leave my girl all sad and alone can I?” She pressed a sweet kiss to your head before leading you into the spacious living room. “Movie night?” You mumbled as you teared up at the thoughtfulness. “And dinner. Now sit. Get comfortable for me.”

Only then did she leave to plate to your favourite dinner, before joining you in the makeshift bed she’d set up, your favourite films all queued up and ready to go. She’d even gone to the extent of lighting your favourite scented candles. Anything to pamper her girl. The movie played in the background as you both munched on dinner before she encouraged you to curl up on her. You adored when she ran her hand through your hair, the soft scratches at your scalp never failed to make you feel better. “Mm I love you” you muttered nuzzling into her chest more, “thank you for this baby.”

“Anything for you sweet girl. I’m sorry I’ve been snowed under at work recently. I’m always around for you no matter what. My girl. You never have to suffer alone.” Her promise caused you to smile and mummer how perfect this was. She is perfect.

[thestrongestjewel]

How is your arm?

eh it has been actually a lot better! been struggling to draw for longer periods of time tho, so i gotta take a loooot of breaks!

[samble-moved]

Sayaka is Biyaka (or, a Lesbian Tries to Disprove the "Sayaka is a Lesbian With Comphet" Bi Erasure Theory)

For some reason, there's a loooot of belief in the PMMM fandom (this was especially bad in the mid 2010s) that Sayaka isn't bi (despite her canon, on screen romantic interested in both Kyosuke, a guy, and Kyoko, a girl), she's "just" a lesbian struggling with compulsive heterosexuality.

While many lesbians do struggle with comphet, erasing Sayaka's status as bi/pan/omni/mspec to claim she's a lesbian is...not great!

Usual signs of comphet include, but are not limited to:

Only attraction to guys involves ones who are entirely unobtainable (ex. a celebrity, fictional, etc)

Any man you fantasize about is faceless/nameless

Interest in men in theory, but not practice

"Choosing" a man to have a crush on to seem "normal", or because it's expected

Attraction based on logic, not actual emotion (ex. because your parents would approve)

Liking a guy until they return the interest

Being attracted to certain guys just because of something like a talent

(...and more examples here!)

However, Sayaka's attraction to Kyosuke doesn't seem based on any of these, but seems more to be genuine attraction/interest.

For one, Sayaka has been close to Kyosuke ever since she was a child. They're described and shown as childhood friends, and he isn't a guy Sayaka "just met" and "chose" to be into.

Sayaka also just isn't into Kyosuke at a surface level. If she held no true attraction towards him, why would she willingly trade her relatively safe, happy life for his happiness? Her wish was to heal his hand. While this was the stated wish, it's outright shown that Sayaka didn't just want that. It's outright shown canonically that, while not fully said, Sayaka wants Kyosuke's appreciation and recognition for this. She wants him to know the miracle was her doing, and wants him to love her for doing it.

The various interpretions of this won't be majorly touched here, as whether or not Sayaka's thinking there is "selfish" isn't important. What is important is that Sayaka shows a true level of attraction to Kyosuke, and wishes it was reciprocated.

It's not that she "just" likes him for his skills (she still visits him in the hospital, even during a time where it's implied that he won't be able to play his violin again). It's not that he's a guy out of reach — he's a childhood friend. She's not being pressured into liking guys. She literally jokes about Madoka being her wife in front of Hitomi, publicly.

Her feelings are obvious and genuine enough that Hitomi tells Sayaka that, if she wants, she will give Sayaka a day to confess to Kyosuke before Hitomi does.

A bisexual person who ends up later liking someone of the same gender later on isn't "actually gay" instead. A bisexual person with a preference isn't "choosing a side". Erasing a canon bisexual character's identity to claim "ummm, akshully, 🤓 they're Really X sexuality instead" is biphobic!

I'm probably not the best person to make this post, as I am a lesbian, not bisexual. However, people erasing a bi character's sexuality to call them a lesbian instead is not okay, and it wouldn't be okay the other way around either. It's not "progressive" to insist a bi character can't possibly be bi, they have to be gay. Sayaka shows no sign of comphet, no sign of "just" likely Kyosuke because she feels it's "right". She shows actual, real interest in him and Kyoko, and that doesn't make her "actually a lesbian". She's bisexual. A character being bi isn't some stepping stone to them being "really" gay later on, and it isn't a dirty word to call them bi! It's an identity like any other.

Most fans ignore Kyosuke. This isn't something I think is a major issue, as Sayaka seems to lose interest in him after Rebellion (saying Hitomi deserves better). He's probably not the best guy. But that's not an excuse to erase Sayaka's identity, because she liked a not-so-great dude. A lesbian with a shitty ex isn't suddenly not a lesbian, and a bisexual person with a less than stellar former crush isn't suddenly not bisexual due to it.

Tl;dr:

[8-rae-rae-8]

On the note of fussy little!Graves i feel like Ghost notices first rather often and will absolutely go so soft for him (goes for any of his cg's tho tbh) because who couldn't?? he's just a little guy and so sad and upset and the urge to help is so strong cause like how could it not be??😭

i also feel like Ghost would be one of the biggest helps to helping the lil guy figure out whats wrong and he'd be so gentle doing it with the softest voice and all the soft lil nicknames he knows for the bab n telling him that his feelings are perfectly normal and that it's ok to express em here because he wont be yelled at or anything for it here and that he never should have been scolded or anything for em in his past😭

(i adore fussy itty bitty Graves with all my heart he has all my thoughts he deserves all the comfort and care possible🥹)

-🐻

Fussy baby needs all the love 😭

Give that boy everything he could ever want !!! Give him kisses and cuddles and loooots of nap times

I love that ghost would be able to help most. He's the most experienced, being on the smaller side and struggling to ask for help is part of him! He'll happily take hours with a fussy baby just to help figure out the problem

[nanistar]

Had Wisplight gone with her, how would she have fared up top? We know Saltburn still struggles a bit especially with the sun when it comes to her eyes, but Wisplight seems to have quite a bit of fluff, minus the belly/chest fur. I expect she'd have really struggled with the sun, but I'm curious. Sorry about the long question sksksks feel free to leave this one alone!/gen

this is a hard question cuz i fully intend to answer this to some degree in the comic, but i'm not sure yet what all I will cover. i'll just go over moonclan biology saltburn was born a loooot lighter than she is now (but still darker than her siblings), and she darkened with age+sun exposure. moonclan cats have somewhat transparent fur like polar bears, which tend to grow darker when they're in areas that don't have as much snow, so i imagine they grow darker for skin protection in the extreme heat + sun light.

shatterwick has marshclan blood, so she'd fare a lot better than most other current moonclan cats on the surface (even tornlotus since he's mainly white)

wisplight is fluffy on top, but it's thin and mainly decorative- moonclan cats have been slowly losing their protective 2nd layer of fur since they have no need for insulation and due to malnutrition. i'm not sure if sun exposure would trigger the regrowth of that layer in an adult cat. saltburn had lots of problems with temperature regulation when she first game to the surface, but has more or less adapted to it now, and her fur grows in dense on top despite the thinner insulating layer. as for eyes, i think that would be the hardest part for wisplight or any full moonclan cat to adapt to. their eyes are really weak and sensitive to the light. i think that the only thing that would really help them would be being active at dusk/dawn and night. i don't think the current cats could adapt to the high light level (but if they had kits on the surface-- especially with surface cats) those ones would probably be ok.

[there-will-be-a-way]

I decided to go through my old journals and collect the entries that seem meaningful to me. This is what stood out to me so far:

Christmas has always been a difficult time for me (I thought my struggles around this time of the year were new)

There is an entry from a part named R. and I have no idea who he is. A letter from a clinic I went to for my DID back in 2017 also mentioned a part named R. as a gatekeeper. But I genuinely don't know this dude.

The majority of the entries are parts talking to each other - we seemed to have wayyyyy better communication than we do now (a question in the SKID-D asked if you ever write down conversations you have with yourself. I said no, that makes me feel crazy. But past me did this a loooot appareantly.)

[linterteatime]

Hi! I apologize for the sudden spam of likes on your Hollow Knight related posts!! To be honest, you made me fall deeper in love with the whole bug-game-theme a while ago with those and I've finally been able to get the game!! I started playing yesterday, I'm still a little bit confused and I get lost (and attacked to the point of having to go back in search of the shadow... at least twice at once) a lot, but I LOVE the style and music overall, it's been some time since the last time I played a platform game (so that's also one of the reasons I'm still struggling) but I'm definitely enjoying it so much!! Thank you!! 💖😊

Oh I'm glad you're enjoying the game! I also struggled a loooot with it at first years ago lmao but the game is very fun and pretty regardless and you get more used to it the longer you play it, so i hope you can continue it cuz it has some really cool stuff!! :D

(Also! don't worry about spam liking or rebloging or whatever I truly do not mind it at all! It's actually something very nice to see in my notifications every once in a while!💖)

[manasseh]

月ᆞ080424

a loooot of this time was spent struggling on something i had to redo from scratch but still, planner looks so satisfying all filled in :)

8/ i haven't been using any study habit or hack recently 🤔 as the weather has improved i've done anything that doesn't require a screen outside as much as i can, which i will always recommend. ah and i suppose having the weekends on a strict study ban is recent, and works really well for me so far. basically get your fresh air get your rest ☆

on another note, 봐앍 봙 봙 봙

[tirfpikachu]

as someone with bpd it sounds like that girl has bpd. I behaved in the exact shitty way with new fps lol

DAMN IT U MIGHT BE RIGHT....... at least bpd-adjacent reactions. i have bpd as well and it took ages for me to grow out of that.

rn she's stuck living with her toxic family and is really isolated, not working or studying, waiting for a big chronic illness-related surgery. and she has a lot of trauma & anxiety & insecurities. she also says she doesn't want therapy cuz she's still living with toxic family, so she doesn't think it'll do much lol even though i told her i do nooot date girls seriously if they have issues unless they're heavily therapized. i feel like she's the type of sapphic who will uhaul VERYYYYY easily, especially to escape her current situation. and i get it bc i've been there. but it's also a suuuuper bad idea. if things continue i know i 100% will have to be firm about her moving into her own place first and doing some growth. i CANNOT have a repeat of what i've been thru in the past... and i've been on both ends. it rarely ends well.

if you've been traumatized and have low self-esteem imo it's always best to have some time to heal on ur own and develop your own strong sense of independence before you add someone else into your living space, or even date. i also wouldn't wanna live w anybody while i still have my senior bunny anyways since she's very messy, and i'm still learning how to juggle chores on my own. my ex did a loooot for me out of love, but honestly it was rly bad for both of us. including me bc i lost important life skills over time and it made things only harder and harder. it was enabling my anxiety & low self-esteem, and they felt bad for me so they weren't setting up boundaries no matter how many times i checked in w them. i refuse to put me or any other girl through that, bc now post-relationship my amt of guilt was/is insane. and it could've all been avoided!!! it's almost never worth it. she's already been kind of oversharing about very personal struggles. i know i share a lot, but i'm just generally like this as a therapized ambivert adhd chick with pretty decent emotional intelligence. and to her it seems like i'm an oasis bc no one else is giving her the very bare minimum. but it's still the BARE MINIMUM. so her gulping down my attention with such desperation makes me go HMMMMM... bc she's clearly not fully in her right mind or stable in her sense of self.

and it actually doesn't make me feel special, it really doesn't make me feel seen. i feel totally replaceable since i'm only giving her what any decent person would, she's just had bad luck. it's kind of... boring? because she's not actually getting to know me, she already has a perfect idea of me in her head and has me on a big piedestal bc i treat her decently. and we haven't even met irl yet, so i'm feeling the pressure building already lmao. she likes the idea of me, not the real me. it's limerence, basically. and this girl has been dating strictly long-distance beforehand afaik, and those are barely relationships the grand majority of the time, if you don't meet irl regularly or haven't spent a very extended amt of time together face-to-face beforehand. she doesn't notice there's endless fish in the sea. i don't want someone to choose me bc she thinks i'm the only option that's gonna come around... i wanna be chosen carefully and weighed against other choices. she's in a dark place in her life and i'm super aware of that, and viewing things critically & keeping my feet on the ground. i don't even know her enough to like her yet lmao... it feels so weird. it's hard, having been on both ends of the stick. but if she expects me to be exclusive before we even meet irl she'll be very disappointed lol... i don't put all my eggs in the limerence basket anymore. those kinds of girls are a bit scary honestly. it's like they see you as a character from a tv show. you're a blorbina not a real person.

i have charming girl swag so i have been a fp endless times... i'm really living up to my heartbreaker jacket hahaaaa 🫠 i don't think i'm gonna even do anything remotely spicy with her until i know she actually knows me and is realistic about this whole thing. i'm into casual too, but this chick would fall a billion times harder and be even more heartbroken if i decide she's not my serious type. i feel like i have a casual type in girls & a more serious type, and she does kinda have potential, but i don't see it as true potential unless the person is stable and secure in herself. otherwise... who tf am i even dating?

[leiflitter]

Formalwear anon here: thanks for answering first of all, that was a feast for the mind and soul 😍. Read HMUTD and YAH... 🤯, chef's kiss.

(the Damocles sword with Oliver somehow convinced Felix knows and forgave him, Felix completely oblivious, it's going to hurrrt)

Please do write your version of "Oliver's home life is what he described and Felix finds himself seeing real struggle (way less romantic when not an abstract concept) and facing real consequences for once in his life".

I wonder how 20 y.o. Felix is (probably way worse than dad!Felix) at taking a long hard look at himself and realizing where he falls on the whole intent vs result equation.

You also spawned in my mind an Oliver that was truthful but still knows Felix and is still devious, so he may have suspected the situation unfolding (how close do you have to be to your neighborhood to realize where you are, really? Also, digressing but a good ole tear-filled panic attack might have stopped the whole thing in its tracks, so more proof for the canon!Oliver is not quick on his feet camp) but will swallow the bitter pill for the opportunity to emotionally blackmail Felix for however long.

Well now I HAVE to, my friend 🥰 stop putting ideas in my lil brain, I can only type so hard!

I honestly think part of why Oliver didn't pick it up sooner is that... well. Wishful thinking, first.

Secondly, as someone who has driven a loooot on British motorways... We know Ollie probably can't drive. He doesn't have a car, anyway, and motorways are all the same. You don't get those lil signs with smaller town names for ages... and if they didn't go on the motorways, then it'd probably be even HARDER to know where they were heading. Just North; and he might have been suspicious but there's a LOT of stuff up north.

The sign for Prescot was confirmation of the worst kind- and he was too deep in denial to adapt.

Honestly, I think he knew that their dynamic always ended up with Felix Doing What He Wanted. That the lie wasn't sustainable and would grow stale eventually. He only has so many parents to kill off, after all. A panic attack wouldn't have stopped it- and also... maybe Oliver kinda wanted Felix to find out.

He probably hoped Felix would see it as a grand gesture somehow, write it off as absolute madlad banter. "Whoa Ollie you're fuckin insane mate wow"

That the connection he wanted was stronger than that.

[vulpeskorsak]

Day 12 of Whumptober 2024: Nutrition

No. 12: STARVATION Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | “Just a little more.”

AO3 got banned in my country and VPNs have not been working well on my PC lately, so I am not going to post these there for now. But hopefully I can do that at some point.

This is taking place in my own DnD/fantasy world.

Dr. Victor Moreau is my mostly human fleshsmith inventor (KibblesTasty Homebrew class).

Ludwig Richter is a tiefling and a former gravedigger turned archeologist who wields a rifle and a battle shovel named Charon.

--------------

Nutrition

"Victor… Is everything alright? Did you find another insect?"

Ludwig opens his eyes to see the doctor pacing around with surprising energy for someone who has barely eaten anything but a few bugs in almost two weeks as they have been wondering around the seemingly endless caverns trying to find a way out. Excitement practically radiates from the man which is not helped by his shadow that seems to be dancing in the blue light of their lamps on the floor.

"Yes. Yes. I did catch a centipede. I ate it already, since you had the last one. But that's beside the point. I actually have good news and bad news."

Ludwig sighs, slowly sitting up and looking around. The small pool of water they stopped at three days ago has almost depleted. They should have rationed it better but their guide James has been feeling worse and worse. They will have to move on soon. Hopefully, he feels better today or tomorrow. Good enough to walk or at least be carried. Well, dragged, rather. He doubts even Victor can carry anyone now. James is still asleep, it seems. The man has had a rougher fall than the two of them, when the rocks crumbled underneath them and sent them tumbling down into the caverns, and had been struggling ever since.

"Alright. Let's hear the bad news first," he asks cautiously.

"James died while we were asleep," Victor points at the guide's sleeping spot. "I woke up like an hour ago... He must have stopped breathing during the night."

Ludwig turns to the guide again, noting the stillness of the body this time. That is a real shame. He did not know the man for long prior to them falling here but he seemed like quite a cheerful and friendly person. James was not feeling well for the majority of their underground journey, so he has been understandably quiet. Ludwig does not think he will be grieving though. They were not that close. He rarely does, he noticed. He spent almost a decade working as a gravedigger since he was fourteen years old. Death was something he was well accustomed to and, if he is honest, he somewhat expected that James might perish after they did not find help or a way out during the first week. Though he did his best to cheer the man up as they went, lying to him that he was sure he would be alright. Victor did not make any promises as a doctor, though. He would merely say James had a chance of making it. It was hard for him to do much for the man without most of his medical supplies. The doctor himself ended up with a large acid burn on his arm, as one of his acid vials broke in the fall and spilled out of his pocket.

"And… what's the good news?"

"We have a loooot of food now… Though we should definitely be careful. It is not good to eat a lot after a prolonged period of starvation."

The permanent smile on Victor's face grows even wider as he watches Ludwig's face light up with understanding as he looks from the doctor to the body and back. Victor nods, eager to be able to eat again. He has never been able to understand people's aversion to cannibalism as its own phenomenon, if nobody has been harmed for its sake, especially in survival situations. It is just meat, after all.

"What if we need to walk just a little more?" Ludwig questions, trying to come to terms with James' death, the change in their situation and his partner's suggestion. "Maybe… there is a way out just around that corner."

"I've been there while you were asleep. There is another huge cavern. It does not seem to end… I do not think we can traverse it on an empty stomach, even if there is a way out just behind it. We need to eat, my dear."

Ludwig contemplates a little more, looking at James's corpse. His tail twitches weakly on the floor behind him. He could barely walk for a few of minutes the last time he tried, let alone a long distance. Victor is far more resilient than him in this regard. All the experimental chemicals he has been ingesting and injecting must have truly changed his body beyong human limitations. But he is ultimately right. If they really want to survive and get out of here, James will have to become their source of nutrition. It would be stupid not to use all the resources they have.

"Alright…"

He grabs onto the wall to pull himself up onto his hooves as Victor takes out a scalpel and crouches next to the body to begin undressing it and opening it up. Ludwig shivers hearing the doctor hum a soft lullaby as he works in efficient practiced motions. He must be excited to find out what killed James, Ludwig realizes. He has not been able to perform his surgical or otherwise medical duties much, aside from the basics, for a long time now. For someone as obsessed with his work as Victor is, this must have been akin to phycological torture.

"Are you not disturbed at all?" Ludwig asks, watching the man cut and slice, separating a few good pieces to start with.

"No. Why would I be? It is just meat."

"It is a person's meat. Someone we both knew even."

"And? It is still meat. That we desperately need. It will save our lives. We should be thankful to him, if anything."

"I suppose… I cannot say I have much ground to disagree…"

Victor works in silence for a while after that. Ludwig leans on the wall, unsure what else to say on the matter. He watches the doctor cut out a strip of meat from James' chest.

"Ludwig?" Victor asks beckoning him over before he hungrily shoves a thin slice of bloody human meat into his mouth.

"Yes?"

Ludwig approaches and after a few seconds of contemplation takes a slice from his hand.

"You know, if I die next, don't feel bad about eating me too."

"Well… I hope it does not get to that. I am sure we will be able to get out eventually… Now that we have something to keep us going."

"That's the spirit, love! Now, eat!"

"Are you sure it is safe? Can we burn his clothes and cook it, maybe?"

"They will burn fairly fast; I don't think we'll have time to cook properly… Don't worry, I'll get us dewormed once we're back. It's better to catch a parasite or two than starve to death! … Now, eat, love. Eat, rest a little and let's go. I'll take care of preparing the body, so we can carry it easier. And take a look at what actually killed him. I'm dying to know."

Victor giggles at his own joke before digging in again, no signs of discomfort or worry on his face. Ludwig sighs, looking at the bloody meat between his fingers, and takes a bite.