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#but that’s also only 3 days a week because you don’t work the other 2 cause you can make your own schedule 🤣
forgotten-daydreamer · 3 months
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Took twice the max dose of melatonin before the final revision for tomorrow’s exam, I’m shitting my pants and I genuinely don’t know anything as thoroughly as I should but if I sleep less than 4 hrs before it I just know I’m gonna do even worse somehow
#don’t take twice the max dose of anything btw#genuinely don’t do the shit that I do#i only did it bc I know my limits and haven’t had any other substances in over 24 hrs but don’t ever try it#always talk to your gp before taking any meds and supplements at all#anyway psa aside#I want to revise for two hrs so until 1.30am circa but I genuinely hope I pass out sometime in the next hours and a half#godspeed ig#uni#melatonin#I have super high expectations but I genuinely prepared this exam in like 4 days and my brain has been all over the place#haven’t had the chance (economic too so please please consider sparing a couple of bucks for my ko-fi?) to meet my therapist in 2 weeks#been super suicidal super busy dealing with stuff and people and my family and uni and ah oh how I wish I had a brain able to focus#also the ‘visions of horror’ as I call them have lowkey turned into auditory hallucinations that never stop and it’s… tough#genuinely so tired of everything in general#I’d promised to hang with my uni friends after the exam bc I should be done my midday tops but I know im gonna be super sad and underwhelme#so I hope I can be at home by 4 pm tops with one excuse or the other#I love them all so much but I need a break. also bc I got another exam in less than a fucking week and I still haven’t started studying for#it because it’s objectively easier than tomorrow’s and because when was I supposed to study for it#I spent 3 good days working on a paper that isn’t even mine for a subject I don’t even take#a favor for a friend which turned into 3 more friends asking me if I could help them with theirs#and you know me#I never say no. unfortunately. but also I’m super glad they want my help bc they know I can write at least (one good thing)#but. that’s still -3 days available#then. the demons#wasted so many hours just pacing and biting my nails raw and being pathetic#so yeah. in a little under 15 hrs I want to be in bed again. resting until the 19th when the cycle will begin anew#also math ain’t mathing. my exam is in 12 hrs only now 13.
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jmin · 7 months
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silencing someone on ig for so long and making the mistake of unsilencing because you think now it’s okay, now it’s better, and immediately being hit by some uncomfortable stories or posts is like that pink blob being punched back into the box meme. never again.
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fingertipsmp3 · 11 months
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I feel like a character in a Herman Melville short story. Except that he never writes women so that’s not even accurate
#feel free to correct me if i’m fucking wrong. considering that i’ve only read bartleby the scrivener; a quarter of moby dick;#and like 2 other stories and i don’t remember any women#i am feeling like. the main dude in bartleby who is dealing with bartleby. and i am also feeling like bartleby himself#i’m trying to cancel this fucking wine club subscription and the company aren’t responding to any of my emails but they keep calling me#and i can’t answer the phone because i can’t get a signal because they’re doing work on the o2 mast#i just see the missed calls in my log and i’m like. it didn’t even ring. how do you Know#i’m emailing them like ‘i can’t answer the phone; just answer my emails if you want to talk. you’re clearly reading them or you wouldn’t be#calling me’ and every day like clockwork they call me around 2pm. it’s starting to make me insane#yes i could call them from a landline but it’s the principle of the fucking thing. just CANCEL IT online. i have sent no fewer than four#emails. they haven’t responded to a single one#i told my credit card company not to let them take money from me because it would be fraudulent because i did not consent to this#subscription and they were like ‘right-o chief’ and i was like ‘is there anything i can do if they send me a product and try to charge me#for it? i don’t want anything from them AND i don’t want to be liable for payment’ and they were like ‘we can send you a new card if that#happens’ cool thanks. i guess my problems are not their problems so it makes sense#and my dog is legitimately going senile. she’s just pacing and looking at me#and i don’t know how to do my homework and i’m pretty close to a breakdown because everyone’s acting like it’s super easy to get eleventy#working but it’s literally not and it’s fucking me up because if i can’t do this assignment then i can’t do like 3 other assignments either#and i’m already behind and i’m going to be even more behind by the time my midterm takes place in two weeks#and i feel like bartleby because I WOULD PREFER NOT TO#i feel like i’m losing my mind. my sister just died and i don’t know how or why and we didn’t talk but it’s still fucked up#and her funeral is tomorrow and i’m not going and i don’t think that’s right? but i can’t#i legitimately feel like i’m having a breakdown and i don’t have TIME to have a breakdown#and i have no food in the house and i need to help my friend write a victim statement again because she’s reporting him for something ELSE#he did. and we love to see it but gooooood fucking lord#and i am cold. and mabel is staring at me#and i’m pretty sure i’m going to get my period in 3 days or less#october you really know how to break a woman down to her bare essentials#personal
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tojikai · 1 year
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SUNDERED
Pairing: Gojo x reader
• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending
Sundered+ (COMMISSION)
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments
word count: 3.2k
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One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.
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❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.
❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand. 
❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.
❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.
❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.
“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?
“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you. 
Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.
You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead. 
You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.
“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.
“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!” 
“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.
And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.
He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.
At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup. 
As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do. 
You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did. 
You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag. 
You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.
“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child. 
“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.
As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about. 
You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you. 
You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that. 
Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would. 
You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.
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After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her. 
Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.
“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen. 
Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.
“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you. 
“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.
She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared. 
“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.
When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter. 
So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?
“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.
“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.
“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too. 
“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.
“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family. 
“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.
One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.
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no-144444 · 16 days
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catch-up- l.norris (no.4)
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summary: lando after Monza.
pairing: land norris x fem! reader.
warnings: talk of workplace harassment
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Lando walked into your apartment with a sour expression on his face. You’d been waiting for him all night. P1 to P3, not exactly a good result. 
“Hey darling,” you sighed, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. He didn’t hug you back. You tried to press a kiss to his cheek, but he shrugged you off and moved further into the apartment and left you in the living room as he went to your bedroom. 
Your day hadn’t been great either, if he’d cared to ask, but you didn’t really think faulting him right now was a smart idea. Emotions were high, you’d seen the interviews, you’d seen his face on the podium, and you’d seen him. It still stung.
You followed after him and leant against the doorframe, watching him take off his clothes to be left in his boxers. He didn’t look in your direction once. He lay down in the bed, his back to you, and that was that. 
Shit. 
“Great discussion,” you mumbled under your breath, and closed the door. Imola to Monaco was only a 3 hour flight and he’d left Imola at about 10pm. It was only about 2am now, and you had work in the morning. Work that you didn’t want to go to. The new co-worker you were teaching was probably the creepiest guy you could ever imagine, and he decided that you were his to touch all day on Friday. Disgusting. 
You saw the door open as you settled on the couch, just hoping to drown out the worried and upset thoughts that ran through your head. You were worried about Lando, worried about the Driver’s Championship, worried about Oscar, worried about Lando and Oscar’s relationship, worried about Lando’s confidence, worried about going to work, trying to think about a strategic outfit, worried about the other girls in the office, worried about-
“Hi,” his soft voice invaded your senses, and you turned to face him. There he was, beside you, his hand in yours. 
“Hi,” you answered, your voice hoarse and tired. “I’m sorry about today.”
He nodded. “It’s my fault,” he shrugged. “Oscar made the pass, and I was allowed to race him-”
“Lando, you’re not seriously blaming yourself for today, are you?” You asked. He didn’t answer, just staring down at where your hands connected. “It would’ve been a 1-2 finish if Stella and the team didn’t take a page out of the Ferrari handbook of how to fuck shit up. Papaya rules can fuck off, and so can Zak Brown. You deserved that 1-2. Both of you do. P3 is still good, but I know it’s not enough for you. But Lan, think about where you were last year, or the year before. The progress you’ve made this year alone? Unimaginable. Don’t get tunnel-visioned into hating yourself because of one bad race result when you know how talented and skilled you are, and how you won against Max with a fucking 22 second gap. Monza wasn’t your weekend, but next weekend will be and that’s what matters. Also, P3, standing on the podium being a bad result? I’d say you’re doing pretty well then.”
He smiled softly as you reminded him of who he was, but also how important you are to him. Speeches like that from you made him feel a thousand times better than any consolation pity pep-talk he could’ve gotten from someone in the team. “Thank you,” he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Please come to bed.”
You chuckled softly. “I doubt I’ll be sleeping much tonight.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Just… head busy,” you shrugged. “But I’ll come in if you want me to.” 
He pressed his lips to your neck in a soft kiss. “I always want you near me.”
You chuckled. “Ok Romeo,” you scoffed, getting up. 
“How was work this week?” he asked, following you into your bedroom. 
“Shit,” you sighed, lying down. “But probably better than yours.”
“What happened?”
“It’s fine Lan,” you brushed it off. “You’re tired.”
“Not enough to not hear what you have to say,” he sat up, waiting for you to speak. 
You sighed and turned to him, resting your head in his lap as he ran his fingers through your hair. “I was training this new guy at work and he decided to make it his personal mission to make me as uncomfortable as possible. He just kept touching me, and not seeing how it was inappropriate. Now I have to think about what I wear even more, and tell the rest of the girls at the office, and-”
“Baby, you shouldn't be dealing with that,” he sighed. You could tell he was angry. “You need to tell HR.”
“That’s the worst part, he’s the HR guy,” you groaned. “Anyways, I just want to sleep, and I know you do too.”
He nodded, lying beside you and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you close. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whispered. “Please don’t come to my place of work and threaten this guy Lan.”
He scoffed. “I wasn’t going to threaten him, I was going to get Max to do it.”
You chuckled. “You’re a child.”
“I’m a problem solver,” he shrugged. “Ok, but he needs to be fired. I can come in and I’ll pretend like he’s insulted me massively as a customer, boom, he’s gone.”
“Ok Superman, whatever you say,” you giggled.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
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doromoni · 1 month
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Not Over the Papaya | OP81
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⊹ 。•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader
Genre : Fluff Smau
A/N : I wrote 2 chapters worth of material today … but imma make y’all wait for tomorrow 🤠👹
Face claim : Jennie Kim
Warnings : Moderate Cursing
Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.
Masterlist | Series Playlist
< Previous | Part 3 | Next >
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*message sent
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Notification : You received a message from Oscar
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*Incoming Call from Oscar
Pick up or Decline
Pick up
“Hi Osc”
“Hi to you too. You sound so sleepy”
“Yeah, I didn’t get that much sleep on the plane.”
“I told you to limit your coffee intake. I’m not there to stop you , you gremlin control yourself”
“I know I knowww”
“So why’d you wanna call? You should sleep”
“Its just weird that I’ve gotten to see your face practically everyday since last month and now I wont see you for like 2 weeks”
“Well we both work very hectic jobs, so that would be expected. But yeah ~ i’ve gotten used to your presence”
“ Hey Osc… Is it weird to say that I already miss your voice? “
“Only my voice?”
“Well your voice is like Jake Sully y’know.”
“You and your Avatar obsession . And I do not sound like Sam Worthington”
“Who??”
“The guy who voices Jake Sully”
“Ok but how do you know that?? I don’t even know that at the top of my head. I just like Jake cause he’s hot”
“I know that because you forced me to watch blue people run and swim for 10 freaking times!”
“Well you made me watch Cars with you on repeat!”
“You also loved Cars! what do you mean?”
“Ok, I do but that’s besides the point”
“What is your point dweeb?”
“ My point is that I miss you already”
“Well I miss you too”
- Hey Osc, is that Lily? -
“Hey I’ll be back. Lando’s talking to me. Don’t hang up, alright?”
- What? No. We’ve broken up , I’ve told you that -
- I thought I heard a girl’s voice. Is she your new fling? -
- I dont do flings Lando -
- Whatever you say mate -
“Hello? are you still there?”
“Helloooo?”
“You’ve dozed off huh. Sleep well dearest”
Y/N.
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liked by oscarpiastri, y/bf, logansargeant, and others
Y/N. Florida I love you but you’re too hot. Rehearsals are brutal! 🤠 send jake sully thirst traps pls
Y/N. Whaaaaa who said that?
oscarpiastri Youre so weird.
Y/N. Because having a crush on a blue car isnt??
logansargeant Its not weird to have a crush on Sally tho
charles_leclerc I support my son’s tastes. Crushing on Sally is valid.
Y/N. But me having a crush on a giant blue man is not???
oscarpiastri nope. thats weird Y/N
logansargeant nope. thats weird Y/N (1)
charles_leclerc nope, thats weird Y/N (2)
Y/N. ugh i h8 the patriarchy
Y/bf Y/N your glowing babeeee!! So excited for Floridaaa. Im catching myself a cowboy 🤠. (and ur Jake Sully crush is so Valid!!)
Y/N Babe give me a call, your pass is still with me! ( RIGHT? The blue man is hot)
Y/bf That he is, but I think orange suits you better 😘 liked by oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri you are so right @Y/bf but its actually papaya 🤓
Y/bf stfu Oscar, im making u a case here 😤
user1 I dont know what to freak out about??!! Y/N adding another day to her concert sched or Oscar being in Y/N’s comment section and CLEARLY being flirty.
user2 Sir that is your teammate’s ex 😮‍💨
user3 Well lando did cheat … so eff the bro code or smth like that— i dunno im not a guy
user4 we can freak out about both!!! YES MY SHIP IS FREAKING FLOATING (it aint sailing till oscar confirms his breakup)
user5 Y/N becoming more unhinged by the second
user6 Y/N looks like she’s becoming better and happier 🤍 we love to see it.
user7 Enjoy your time Queen!
User7 Y/N in American soil is built different
User8 We see that like Oscar 👀.
oscarpiastri 3mins close friends
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story replies
charles_leclerc do you like Americans now? well its very plausible since Logan’s American.
oscarpiastri Are you insinuating that I like Americans because of Logan?
charles_leclerc Yes, exactly that.
oscarpiastri NO.
logansargeant I knew it! Western always winssss 🤠🦅
oscarpiastri Why am I not surprised.
Y/N. Ohhhh whos the hot chick? 🤭🫣
oscarpiastri 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️
oscarpiastri I dunno you tell me
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720 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 2 months
Note
oh wooow…. I just found your chef!sirius and I think you unlocked a new favorite au for me! I’ve always been more of a james girlie but your sirius, especially your chef!sirius has me feeling all types of ways. do you have anything more for him and reader planned? I’d love to read more about them and their dynamic he’s been so sweet on her at a&e and the lip biting thing has made me think of plenty of unholy things they could do.
so excited to read more of them! or reread chef!sirius if you don’t plan on adding more. 🤍🤍🤍
I love them, your honour. Also, omg it's happening!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for your sweet words, babes <3
chef!Sirius x mixologist!reader who have their first date [2.5k words]
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5
CW: reader is anxious as fuck about the date, we actually don't talk about Jeffery even once in this so sorry to all our Jeffery Stans (or haters) out there xoxoxo
A date.
An actual date.
And if it went well; your first date.
God did you hope it went well.
You’d been rightfully wary about the prospect of dating a coworker but you had to admit it was growing increasingly difficult (and extremely tiresome) pretending you weren’t completely gone for the cantankerous chef who seemed to only soften for you. 
Thankfully it seemed he was just as gone for you, which at least meant it would only be slightly awkward if it didn’t go well and not see you dying from embarrassment. 
What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was how difficult taking a noteworthy chef out for a dinner date would turn out to be. 
Every restaurant you had suggested (though Sirius had insisted he would go anywhere with you) was either owned by someone he knew and was in direct competition with, someone he knew and didn’t like, or someone he knew and felt their food was no good. 
So you had made - what you were sure was a brilliant idea at the time - the horrible suggestion of just having him over to your flat for dinner. 
Great.
Terrible. 
Because now you were responsible for preparing a meal for that same noteworthy chef who got paid to spend day after day shouting at his kitchen staff for their “sad excuses for artistic plating” and “terrible passes at edible food”. 
Stupid, stupid girl. 
You warily eyed the sauce you had set aside for your tomato basil pasta as you stirred the store bought pasta on the stove.
What were you thinking!? Two of the seven ingredients (not including the bloody pasta) was in the sodding title. 
You were going to simply throw up. 
But the sound of an assured knock on the door felt like a buzzer ringing loud and obnoxiously at the end of a game - you were officially out of time.
Or were you?
Could you cancel? Tell him you were feeling poorly?
The fact that he had showed up at your sodding house with various essentials a mere few weeks ago told you no, you couldn’t cancel.
You smoothed out your shirt with shaky hands as you moved towards your front door. 
You saw this man almost everyday; you worked with him, and when you weren’t working with him, you were often commuting home with him or finding some other excuse to be in each other’s company.
So why were you nervous?
You opened the door to expose him; standing tall in all his fair skin, tattooed, storm-cloud eyes, inky-black hair artfully tied back in a way that screamed “I hardly tried” that you could never accomplish no matter how hard you tried glory.
Oh right.
That’s why you were nervous. 
“Hey there.” He greeted you softly; eyes roving over your form in much the same way yours had just done as you clocked in on the bouquet of flowers hanging casually in his hand. 
You had to wipe your now clammy hands off on your shirt again. 
“Hey.” You said belatedly, earning you a smirk from your date. “Erm, sorry, come in.” You chuckled awkwardly as you moved out of his way and granted him access to your flat. 
“Smells great!” He offered earnestly, pausing to turn to you and gesture to the flowers. “Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?”
“I can take those!” You began, reaching forward only to have him move them up and out of your reach with a smile on his face.
“Can you tell me where I can find a vase for these?” He repeated softly, taking the hand you had been reaching for the bouquet with in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
Your brain worked overtime to keep your knees from buckling and directing him to the third cupboard from the left. 
He looked jarringly at home in your kitchen; shucking off his jacket and throwing it over the back of a stool before grabbing a vase from the appropriate cupboard and beginning a search through your drawers for a pair of scissors.
You had to remind yourself that he was a chef and it was his job to look at home in a kitchen; that was his domain.
You realised then that he had been speaking to you. 
“I’m so sorry, what was that?”
“I was only saying that I looked it up and made sure that these were safe for cats.” He said simply as he fluffed the bouquet in its new home and moved it to the centre of the counter with a satisfied smile. 
“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.” You cooed somewhat embarrassingly. “I would have fought Birdie over them even if they weren’t.” 
Sirius let out one of his notorious barks of laughter (that half the staff insisted you were making up) that immediately left you feeling more at ease. 
“Well, no fighting required.” He said as he moved towards you, widening his stance so that he was closer to your height and wrapping his arms around your middle. “Thank you for having me.”
“Thank you for coming.” You smiled back; officially lost in the overwhelming beauty of this adonis who willingly accepted spending one of his precious evenings off with you. 
“I think your pasta might be done.” He whispered then, causing you to startle slightly and scramble from his grasp towards the stove.
“Anything I can do to help?” He asked as he followed you over.
“No!” You shouted at first, immediately embarrassed as you opted to pretend the heat of your face was a product of the steam from the pasta. “No, just, erm, go sit down.”
He backed out of your kitchen with a flirty smile on his lips as he accepted your direction.
Now you could understand why he was always yelling at people in his kitchen. 
You were astounded that you didn’t simply melt into goo under his steady gaze as you worked, but you were finally bringing the finished pasta to the table and sitting across from him.
“I apologise in advance; I’m not the cook you are.” You offered as you handed him the spoon to serve himself first. 
He gave you an odd look as he reached over and filled your plate first before his own. “No sorry needed, doll. When someone feeds me, I say thank you.”
You let out a breathy laugh as you picked up your fork. “Oh!” You nearly shouted, kneeing the table in your haste to stand causing you to have to catch a cup before it toppled. “Buggering fuck, sorry.” You apologised quickly, thanking every god known to mankind that you didn’t dump his plate or glass onto him. “Sorry, I forgot the asiago.” 
You opened the fridge and shoved your head into it feigning a search for the cheese when you really needed to cool down and take some steadying breaths.
You were fine, this was fine. 
Just fine.
Except that you had a stupid sexy tattooed chef sitting at your dining room table waiting for you to bring him the sodding asiago. 
You closed the fridge with a little too much force and heard some errant condiment tip over in the shelves behind you; you’d deal with that later. 
“This smells really good, doll.” He offered again, spreading the forsaken cheese over his pasta before loading a fork full and bringing it to his lips. 
You held your breath as you watched him chew; his brows furrowed before he nodded and let out an appreciative hum.
 “Very good; nicely done, gorgeous.” 
You smiled shyly at the praise and took your own bite.
It was good.
But surely it could be better? 
Should you have put more garlic in? The five cloves were already 3-4 more than the family recipe called for. And was there enough salt?
You definitely overcooked the pasta. 
The store bought pasta.
Fuck. 
“Hey.”
You looked up from your spiralling to see Sirius watching you cautiously. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing! Sorry.” You chuckled and began picking at your food. “Sorry, how was your day?”
He narrowed his eyes at you as he weighed whether or not he was going to let you brush past his question.
Apparently, you looking nervously down at his fork solidified his decision.
“That’s it.” He said as he put his fork down. “Come’ere.”
And before you could protest, he had one of the legs of your chair in his hand and was pulling you over to him. “What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” He asked as he brushed a lock of your hair away from your eyes.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing.” You offered more confidently. 
Sirius hummed in faux consideration. “I call bullshit.”
You let out a defeated sigh and looked down at your hands in your lap. “I….I’m sorry, I- I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve made a mistake.”
Sirius was quiet for a few moments as you picked at your thumb nail and tried to ignore the stinging behind your eyes.
“Agreeing to spend tonight with me?” He asked softly then, causing you to look up so quickly that you heard your neck crack. 
“No! No! No, Sirius, not- not you, not this.” You assured him quickly, pulling one of his hands into both of yours. “I feel ridiculous.”
“‘Bout what?” He asked with reservation, though he considered your face with a look of concern clouding his own. 
“I can’t believe I tried cooking for you.” You bemoaned then, feeling that traitorous stinging behind your eyes turn into glossiness along your lash line. 
You watched in abject horror as Sirius’ face fell completely blank before he burst into laughter.
You were wrong, you were completely and utterly wrong; this really could end in you dying of humiliation. 
You were going to have to quit your job. You’d have to move back in with your parents. You’d have to change your number. You’d have-
“Doll, hey, hey wait!” Sirius managed to get out between hearty laughs as you tried pulling your hands away from him. “Wait! No no no, babe, listen.”
You let out a breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob and pointedly kept your gaze at your lap; perhaps not the greatest option because from this vantage point all you could see was your hands in his which left you aching with want. 
One of his hands disappeared as it moved to your chin when he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know what I would be eating at home if I was alone right now?” He asked you around an incredibly handsome cheeky smile. 
You shook your head once which resulted in one traitorous tear spilling from your lashes, stealing Sirius’ silver gaze from your eyes as his thumb moved to catch it. 
“Maybe packaged ramen?” He replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “Except I wouldn’t have cooked it.”
“What?” You choked out through a wet laugh.
“I wouldn’t have cooked it.” He repeated. “I would have crushed the noodles, opened the bag, sprinkled the seasoning on top of it and given it a shake and then would have eaten it from the bag.”
“That’s awful.”
“It is awful!” He agreed readily. “And do you know when the last time someone cooked for me was?”
You shook your head again. 
“Neither do I.” 
You both chuckled and he let his hand fall away from your chin where it joined your own again in your lap. 
“I cook all day long for everyone else and I usually can’t be arsed to cook for myself when the time comes. When I visit friends and family, they usually prefer having food prepared by a chef and I can’t bring myself to deny them because I love them and love cooking for them, so, this really is a treat. Not only did I not have to make it, it is also very good. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even know you could cook, so I was prepared to eat frozen pizza which still would have been an upgrade from my dry ramen.” 
You let out a breath in faux reluctance as you purveyed your set up. It did smell really good. 
“Did I completely botch this date?” You asked teasingly, though when you looked back at Sirius his gaze was as soft as butter left in the sun. 
“Absolutely not.” He whispered, leaning imperceptibly closer to you. “This is actually turning out better than I could have imagined.”
You hummed in acknowledgement as your eyes - without your consent - fell to his lips. “Yeah? Spend a lot of time imagining dates with me?”
“The majority of my time, actually.” He agreed easily, inching even closer to you. 
“And how do they usually end?”
Sirius shook his head no as his eyes moved to your own lips. “I don’t imagine that; I don’t imagine having to say goodbye.”
“No?”
“No.” 
“What do we do instead of saying goodbye, then?”
His eyes moved up to your own at that; neither of your daring to breathe as he searched your eyes for some kind of answer.
Well, you’d give him one.
Your answer came in the form of you closing the distance between you two and pressing your lips to his; he tasted a little bit like the mint gum you knew he chewed to avoid smelling like cigarettes, and he also tasted a bit like your pasta.
Your pasta, that you made for him. 
That he liked. 
And somewhere under all of that; somewhere under the mint and the tomato-basil-garlic, he tasted quite a bit like home. 
You weren’t sure who broke the kiss, but suddenly the two of you were connected by your foreheads as you took a heavy breath. 
“Usually that.” He answered breathlessly, earning him a laugh as you lowered your head only for him to pull it back up to press another kiss to your lips. “Can we eat this really good pasta that someone so graciously made for me now?” 
You laughed at him again and prepared to move your chair back to the other side of the table only for Sirius to reach over you and grab your plate so that you were sitting directly beside him instead. 
The two of you fell into your usual and comfortable repertoire then; his hand never leaving your knee under the table as the two of you talked about nothing and everything.
“Did you really not think I could cook?” You asked him  as you watched him clear off your table for you because “you cooked doll, it’s only fair.” 
You swore you noticed a slight dusting of pink on his cheek bones as he busied himself with loading your dishwasher. 
“Erm, no…actually. I never imagined goodbyes, and I never imagined you cooking.”
And though you wouldn’t find out until much, much later in your relationship; Sirius really didn’t think you could cook because the version of you in his head didn’t need to, that’s what he was for.
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cumonstevie · 3 months
Text
Home Sweet Home Part 2
Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Warnings: none
A/N: Here's part 2!! I hope you guys like it! this was 4.7k words and now I'm exhausted. I'll proofread this tomorrow when I wake up <3
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 Steve is still standing at the entrance of the living room, dumbfounded at the sight of you sitting only a few feet in front of him. He blinks a few times, thinking he’s seeing things but nope, there you are sitting on the couch next to your mutual rockstar friend.
Three years. It’s been three years since he’s seen you; since he’s even been in the same room as you without you scurrying off. He notes that you’ve gotten even more beautiful since the last time he saw you, if that was even possible.
His mouth is open, but no words are coming out of it. He’s just staring at you. He never thought he’d see you again. Not after-
“What are you doing here?” Eddie’s voice cuts through his thoughts.
“What,” Steve’s eyes leave yours and focuses on his friend beside you. “Can’t hang out with my friends?”
“I didn’t invite you for a reason, Steve-”
Steve glances at you. “I see the reason.”
“-so how did you know we were hanging out today?”
“Um,” a voice says from behind you. Dustin walks into the middle of everyone with his pointer finger raised and a pained look etched on his face. “I sort of, kind of, maybe accidentally told Steve we were all meeting up at your place to hang out.”
“Dustin!”
“I’m sorry!” The curly haired boy exclaimed. “I didn’t know that he wasn’t supposed to know!”
“Wait, why didn’t you invite Steve?” Robin asks what everyone else wanted to know.
“Because Y/N didn’t want to see Steve because he-” Eddie is stressing but stops himself from spilling something that he shouldn’t. “Do you guys not remember that Y/N and Steve stopped being friends? I didn’t invite him because I didn’t want to make Y/N uncomfortable.”
You’re glad he didn’t say anything more. Your friends never knew why the two of you stopped speaking and they were too scared to pry for answers so they just let it be.
However, Steve knew exactly why he wasn’t invited the moment he saw you sitting on the couch.
Poor Dustin felt bad, but he didn’t know you’d be there. He thought it was a regular hang out. The other day when Steve was driving him home, he let it slip.
“Since we’re all hanging out at Eddie’s on saturday, do you think you could pick me up and then we’ll head over?”
Steve shakes his head. “Nah, I can’t, I have a shift that doesn’t end till- wait, everyone’s going to Eddie’s on saturday?”
“Yeah, he didn’t call you?”
“No. What the hell?”
The younger boy shrugs and fixes his hat. “Maybe he just forgot to tell you. You know Eddie forgets things from time to time. He told us to be there at 5, specifically.”
Steve lets out an irritated sigh as he stops at a red light. “I’ll come by after my shift.”
Dustin is excited because this is the first time Steve is actually going to come hang out with them in a while.
His excuse for not spending a lot of time with them was because he was busy with work which was true and Robin can vouch for him on that one. He had been taking more and more shifts to make more money which decreased his free time. By the time he was finished working for the day, he was so tired all he would want to do was go home and sleep.
Wake up.
Go to work all day.
Come home.
Sleep.
Repeat.
He was doing that every day, seven days a week. It wasn’t healthy but he refused to give in and work for his father, so he did what he had to, to make ends meet.
The light turned green and as Steve stepped on the gas pedal, he grumbled out, “I can’t believe Munson didn’t call me.”
“I’m sorry, alright?” Dustin says again.
“It’s okay, Dustin.” you tell him, trying to defuse the situation. “Don’t sweat it. I can handle it, I’m a big girl.”
“Are you sure, Ace?” Eddie asks, worriedly. “I can tell him to get lost.”
“Hey!” Steve complained. “I’m right here, you know.”
“I’m sure. It’s been three years.” you tell the musician in a hushed tone.
“Yeah but-”
“He’s your guys’ friend too. I’m not gonna be the asshole that makes him leave because I’m uncomfortable. He can stay. It’s okay, Eds, really. I’m twenty now, not seventeen.”
“Fine.” Eddie sighs, turning to Steve. “Make yourself at home, Harrington.”
He looks between you and Eddie as he sits down on the couch across from you. “Thanks…”
It’s awkward after that. The silence is overbearing and you wish you could dig up a hole and throw yourself in it. You knew it was inevitable that you’d run into Steve after moving back home but you never pictured it being like this.
You’re uncomfortable.
Steve’s uncomfortable.
Robin, Jonathan, Eddie, Nancy- uncomfortable.
Robin clears her throat loudly. “So, uh, that was-”
“Mommy!” Penelope interrupts as she runs over to you. “Block!”
“Block?” you question before she hands you three blocks stacked on one another. “Oh, how pretty! Did you make this all by yourself?”
“Ya!”
“Oh my goodness, you’re so talented, Penny!” You praise the toddler and scoop her into your arms. She blushes and lets out a giggle.
Steve’s world starts spinning. It was spinning the moment he heard the toddler say mommy.
You’re a mom? Since when? And nobody told him?
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
And here Steve goes again, mouth trying to form words as his eyes move between you and Penelope but nothing comes out. You don’t even notice that he’s looking at the both of you, too occupied with Penny and her magnificent three story tower made of blocks.
You’re in the middle of praising your daughter when Eddie clears his throat and elbows you in the side.
“Ow! What the heck, Eds?” You rub your side as you look at your friend. He motions to Steve with his eyes and your mouth forms an ‘o’.
Shit, you think.
“Oh, um, Steve, this is my daughter Penelope.” You introduce, hoping no one can tell that your voice definitely faltered a bit in the process. “Penny, look,” you gain your daughter's attention as you point over to Steve. “That’s mommy’s friend, Steve. Can you say ‘hi Steve’?”
“Hi Steeb…” She gets shy, hiding behind her hands but peeking to look at the brunet that was sitting across from you.
Hi Pen- Can I call her Penny?” His eyes shift to you.
“Of course.”
He looks back at the toddler. “Hi Penny,” Steve says lightly as he takes in her facial features. “You’re so pretty.”
Penelope giggles at him then turns and points to you. “Mommy pwetty.”
Steve smiles. “Yeah, your mommy is pretty. Guess that’s where you get your looks from, huh pretty girl?”
Penelope giggles again and you feel your cheeks flush. Robin and Nancy have a smug look on their faces after his comment and you swear you hear Robin call Steve a dingus.
“Here,” you hand your toddler the blocks. “Go build another one, Penny.”
“Otay!”
Max beckons the toddler over and you watch as she runs straight to the red haired girl. Your eyes fleet over to Steve who is looking at your little girl like he’s trying to figure something out. His eyebrows are pinched ever so slightly and he looks deep in thought.
“Hey, um,” he starts slowly, trying to form a coherent sentence, “who-who’s the um… you now, the-”
“You don’t know him.” Nancy cuts him off from his blabbering.
“None of us do.” Jonathan adds.
Robin then chimes in, “Yeah, he’s some asshole that- Oops! Sorry, Penny! He’s some idiot Y/N met in Michigan who left her when she told him she was pregnant.” She then scoffs. “Douchebag.”
You visibly see the cogs in Steve’s head halt after what Robin said and you say a silent thank you to whoever may be listening to your pleas. You tell yourself that you’ll tell Steve that Penelope is his eventually but not right now, not in front of all of your friends who you’re seeing for the first time in three years. That could be a conversation for a different day.
“Hm,” Steve hums, “what a prick.”
You shrug and loosen up a little bit. “I’ve been managing fine. My parents are a big help too.”
“And now you have us.” Nancy smiled.
“Yeah,” you smile back. “I do.”
-
For the rest of your time there, things seemed to get less awkward and soon enough it felt like old times, hanging out with everyone.
You’re laughing at something Robin just said when your eyes drift over to the clock on Eddie’s wall.
“Shit,” Your eyes widened.
“What?” Eddie is the first to ask.
“It’s almost 8:30,” you say as you stand up from your seat. “Penny’s bedtime was an hour ago. Crap, I hope this doesn’t mess up her sleep schedule.”
Eddie shrugs. “She doesn’t look very sleepy to me, Ace.”
“That’s because she’s been playing with the kids.” You tell your friend. “She’ll probably crash out when we get home. Sorry to be a party pooper guys, but I gotta get home and put Penny to sleep.”
They tell you that it’s okay and you even plan to hang out again soon.
“Penny, it’s time to go.” You say sweetly as you crouch down next to your daughter. “Say bye-bye.”
She fights it for a few seconds but ultimately gives up and waves bye to the kids.
“See you guys later, alright?” You tell the Party. “Here, I’ll write my number and address down for you guys if you ever wanna call or stop by to see Penny, okay?”
The younger kids nod and you quickly find a pen and paper and scribble down your number and address before handing it to Max who was the closest to you.
“Share it.” You tell them as you pick Penelope up. “Eds,” you turn to your friend who was nursing a beer. “You ready?”
Eddie frowns as he looks down at the beer in his hand. “I’ve been drinking and I don’t want to put you or Pen at risk. Why don’t you stay the night? You two can take my bed and I’ll crash on the couch.”
You frown as well. “I would but Penny won’t be able to sleep without Bun.”
At the mention of Bun, Penelope looks at you with a pout. “Where’s Bun?”
“Who’s Bun?”
“Penelope’s stuffed animal. It’s a bunny. She can’t sleep without it lately.”
Eddie rubs his face with his hands and sighs. “Gosh, Ace, I’m sorry. I should’ve stopped drinking a while ago. How about I-”
“I can take you home.” Steve cuts him off. Your heart thumps against your chest. “I don’t mind.”
“You don’t have to, Steve, I can-”
“No, seriously.” He shakes his head. “I really don’t mind at all.”
Is this a good decision? Letting the father of your child (who doesn’t know he’s the father of your child) drive you home? Who knows. But you do know that you have to get you and Penny home soon and Steve seems like a better option than a complete stranger driving a taxi.
Your eyes lock on Nancy, Jonathan, then Robin who all give you a little frown as they nod over to the kids. Of course they wouldn’t have any space for you and Penelope, they have to take the kids home. Crap.
“Y/N?” Steve’s voice snaps you back to reality.
“Huh?” You look at him, blinking a few times. “Oh, yeah, if you really don’t mind-”
“I don’t.” He gives you a small smile. “Do you have a car seat for Penny?”
“Yeah,” you breathe. “Eddie-”
“I’ll unlock my car.”
“Thank you.”
You make your rounds, saying bye to everyone and Eddie gives Penelope a big kiss on the cheek before you exit his apartment which makes her laugh. Before you could even offer to help, Steve is pulling Penelope’s car seat out of Eddie’s car and buckling it up in his backseat. He tugs at the car seat a few times, making sure it’s secured safely before turning toward you and stepping aside.
“Good to go.” He tells you.
Steve watches as you buckle Penelope up and you kiss her forehead before shutting the door. You didn’t even notice when Steve walked around you to open the passenger door for you.
“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” You say as you slide into the seat.
“Come on, Y/N,” he smiles. “When have I ever let you open the car door for yourself?”
Never, but you're not about to answer him. Instead, you playfully roll your eyes and say, “Get in the car and drive me home, Harrington.”
-
“Make a left here then keep going straight.” You tell him and he does as he’s told.
It fell silent and the only thing that could be heard was Penelope’s soft snores coming from the back. She had fallen asleep a few minutes after you had left Eddie’s. So much for not being able to sleep without Bun..
Steve kept glancing at you every chance he had but you paid no mind as your eyes were scanning the environment outside of your window. His slender fingers rapped against the steering wheel and he tried to think of something- anything to say to you.
“Hey,” he finally says.
“Hmm?”
“I-I just wanted to say that you look good, you know? Motherhood looks good on you.” Really, Steve? That's all you got? “I mean, you’re a great mother, but I’m pretty sure you already knew that. What I’m trying to say is three years did good to you, you know? Wait, that kind of sounded horrible. I mean, like-”
“Steve,” you let out a soft laugh at his stuttering. “Three years did good to you too.”
He smiles as he continues to drive.
“Make another left up here and it’s the fourth house on the right.”
It’s silent again. You watch as you pass by all the trees in the neighborhood and Steve’s back to tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He pulls up to your house and there’s another minute of silence before he speaks again.
“So,” he lets out an awkward cough. “Can we talk about the elephant in the room?”
You face him with a confused look. “What elephant?”
“You know,” his eyes drop to his lap and he nervously plays with his fingers. “The fact that Penelope is my daughter.”
He’s looking at you now but he’s not mad. He looks… Hurt.
It feels like all the air has left your lungs because it suddenly gets harder to breathe. There's no way he figured it out. You thought he bought the whole ‘Michigan baby daddy who bailed on you’ story just like everyone else did.
Nowhere in his facial expressions did it seem like he knew the truth, and you’ve known Steve for so long to know that he absolutely sucks at having a poker face.
“How.” You take a deep breath in, then a deep breath out. “How did you know?”
“She looks just like me, Y/N.” He tells you, shifting in his seat to face you. “And Robin told me she’s two and a half; I did the math. Unless you hooked up with someone else who looks like me around the same time we did.”
“I didn’t.” The words tumble out of your mouth before your brain could even register. “I mean, I wouldn’t. I-I…” Breathe, Y/N. “I only slept with you.”
It came out softer than a whisper and Steve’s convinced that if a gust of wind had come by, he would’ve missed what you said. Your confirmation has his brain working overtime and his heart about to beat out of his chest.
Steve’s a dad. A dad.
He has a daughter.
Holy shit, he has a daughter.
A daughter whose life he’s missed out on for almost three years. Shit.
Steve drops his head down on his steering wheel and squeezes his eyes shut. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?” He suddenly snaps his head toward you. “I could’ve helped! I would’ve moved with you or-or-”
“Steve,” his name falls from your lips softly, but assertively. “Can we please not talk about this right now?”
“Y/N, this is a big deal-”
“I know.” You say. “I know it is and trust me when I say I’ll answer every question you have but not tonight. I need to get Penny inside.”
You see his eyes gloss over and you feel like even more shit than you did a second ago.
“Steve,” you watch as he bites the inside of his cheek to stop his tears from falling. “Listen to me. We can talk about this another time, okay? I promise. We can meet up at my place or yours; anywhere, okay? And I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
Steve takes a deep breath in, then out before his eyes lock on his daughter, who is sleeping, from the rearview mirror.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, okay.”
-
The next day you decide to tell your parents everything. They knew someone from Hawkins had gotten you pregnant but they didn’t know who and as much as they pressed you for answers, you refused to tell them. You didn’t want them to look at Steve differently, despite everything that happened between the two of you.
You told them during dinner and your dad nearly choked on his food while your moms eyes grew wide like saucers.
“Penny’s father is Steve Harrington?!” Your father exclaimed after he stopped coughing. “I let that boy into my home! If I knew you two were having s-”
“We weren’t!” You cut him off.
Your father gave you a look that said ‘really?’ as his eyes drifted to the toddler who was sitting in her high chair beside you.
“It was one time, I swear!” You add.
Your father shook his head in disappointment. “One time and you end up pregnant with his kid and that little sh-” he stops himself from cursing in front of Penelope. “He left you alone to raise Penny by yourself. I never thought he’d be so selfish. How could he-”
“Actually…” You start. “He had no clue that I was pregnant. I found out after we moved and I didn’t… tell… him.”
“What?!”
“Sweetheart-” Your mom tried but your dad shook his head.
“Y/M/N, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant!” He exclaimed before turning back to you. “That was selfish on your part, Y/N. We didn’t raise you like that. No matter what happened between you and Steve, he had the right to know that he was about to be a father.”
“I know but I was scared and-”
“No buts,” your dad says. “Matter of fact, you're gonna find him and tell him as soon as possible. He has the right to know he has a daughter.”
You look down at your plate as you speak. “He already knows.” Your parents look at you very confused, so you continue. “Yesterday when me and Penny went with Eddie to his place, he invited everyone over as a surprise and Steve showed up too. He knows.”
You hear your father sigh. “I’m very disappointed with you, Y/N.”
“I know…” You murmur. “But I plan on inviting him over tomorrow so we can discuss what happens next.”
“Good.”
The rest of dinner is a bit awkward, but you pull through.
The next day rolls around rather quickly. Both of your parents head to work and you get Penelope ready for the day. You put the toddler in her high chair before walking over to the phone and dialing Eddie’s number. It rings twice before he answers.
“Hello?”
“Eddie,” you say into the phone, “can you give me Steve’s number?”
“Visiting old flames already?” You could practically hear the smirk on his lips. “My, my, you work fast, Ace.”
“Shut up, idiot.” there’s a beat of silence before you speak again. “He knows.”
“Uh, he knows?”
You roll your eyes. “About Penelope. He knows she’s his.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie says. “You told him?”
“No! He knew the whole time!” You exclaim softly. “Said it was because she looks just like him.”
“Well, he’s not wrong.”
“Eddie.”
“Sorry,” there’s shuffling on the other end. “Well, he’s at work right now so he won’t answer his house phone but I could give you his work number.”
“That works.”
You grab a pen and paper and scribble down the number Eddie tells you, thanking him before hanging up. You punch in Steve’s work number and it rings a few times before someone answers.
“Family Video, how can I help you?”
The voice is sickly sweet and your nose scrunches. “Robin?”
“Y/N?” Her voice is back to normal. “What’s up?”
“Is Steve there?”
“Yep.”
You wait in silence for a bit, thinking she’s going to call Steve over or hand him the phone, but she doesn’t.
“Can you give him the phone?” You say after a bit.
“Oh! Totally.” You assume she takes the phone away from her ear because she sounds a bit far. “It’s for you, dingus.”
“Who is it? Dustin?” Steve says as his voice sounds closer.
“No, Y/N.”
There’s a thud on the other end and you hear Robin say something but you can’t make it out.
“Y/N, hey, what uh, what’s up?” Steve sounds out of breath.
“Hey, sorry to bother you at work-”
“It’s no problem.” He speaks. “Is something wrong? Is Penny okay?”
“She’s fine.” you reassure him. “I was just calling to ask if you’d wanna come over to my place so that we could… talk.” Your fingers nervously play with the cord attached to the phone. “It doesn’t have to be right now! It could be after you get off of work or even tomorrow or something-”
“I’ll be right over.”
“You don’t-”
He hangs up before you can finish and you turn to Penelope who’s looking at you with big eyes.
“Your dad is a crazy person, Penny.”
She giggles.
As you wait for Steve to arrive, you make some breakfast for yourself and for Penelope… and maybe a little extra. Just in case, you know? You had just put Penelope’s food down in front of her when there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it, Penny?” You ask her as you make your way toward the door.
“Mmm… Poppy!”
Poppy is what she calls your father.
“Let’s see…” You open the door, revealing Steve and not Poppy.
Steve smiles as he sees you on the other end of the door. “Hey.”
“Hey Steve.” You say, moving to the side. “Come in.”
He says thanks and as soon as Penelope gets a good look at him, she yells out, “Steeb!”
His eyes are on her immediately and his smile grows bigger. “Hey pretty girl, you remember me!”
Penelope giggles and continues to stuff her face with her breakfast. You move toward the food on the counter and look at Steve.
“Are you hungry?” You’re already grabbing a plate for him.
“I don’t want to impose; I can get something later-”
“Shut up and eat, Steve. I made more than enough.”
You put the plate of pancakes in front of him and he bites back a smile. “Yes ma’am.”
He takes a seat beside Penelope and the two start eating in sync. Yep. There is absolutely no doubt that Penny is Steve’s daughter.
The three of you are enjoying breakfast and every now and then Steve will point to something on Penelope’s plate and ask her what it is. She answers the best she can and he praises her for trying. It’s like a little glimpse into what life would’ve been like if everything went RIGHT.
“So,” you clear your throat, “I think I owe you an apology.”
Steve’s eyebrows crease and he tears his gaze from Penelope and moves it to you. “What? No you don’t. If anyone’s apologizing, it’s me.”
“I owe you one too. I should’ve told you about me being pregnant when I found out instead of keeping it from you.” You say as you move a piece of pancake around on your plate.
“I understand,” Steve nods. “I mean, it sucks knowing I've missed out on Penelope’s life thus far but I-I know I hurt you, and… God, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”
“Steve-”
He shakes his head. “Please let me say what I need to say.”
You give him a curt nod and he takes a deep breath. “I know it seems like I used you that day but I need you to know that I meant it when I said I felt the same way for you. There is no excuse for me calling you Nancy after we were done-” he glances at Penelope before his eyes focus back on you. “Snuggling.”
“Pfft!” You cover your mouth immediately. “Sorry!”
“Hey, I’m not about to taint my daughter's innocent ears.” There’s a fake frown on his face before he breaks out with a smile. It lasts for a few seconds before he gets serious again. “I need you to know that I really am sorry. At that point, I think I had liked you since eighth grade and I waited to see a hint that you might’ve liked me back but when I didn’t see one, I thought it was time to move on. I was also terrified that if I told you how I felt, that it would ruin our friendship and I didn’t want that to happen because you were my best friend.”
He sits back in his seat and frowns. “Then, I met Nancy and I really liked her… but then she broke my heart and I was a wreck after that. I thought I was over her completely after all those months of us being broken up because… my feelings for you came back. In that moment, I didn’t even realize I had called you Nancy and I am such a piece of crap for doing that to you. Seeing you cry… I never wanted to make you feel like that and I’ve beat myself up about what I did since it happened. I am so sorry if I made you feel like you were the second option, Y/N. I shouldn’t have let my impulses take over when you told me you had feelings for me. I should’ve taken you out on a date, court you for a bit so you knew that I was serious about my feelings. I-I should’ve-”
“Steve.” You snap him out of his thoughts. “Take a deep breath, please.”
He nods and takes a deep breath, visibly calming down.
“I forgive you, Steve.” You tell him. “We were seventeen; we were idiots. I’m sorry for not telling you I was pregnant. I was hurt over what happened and thought you were still into Nancy and I just didn’t want to be a bother. Now I just want the past to be the past and to move forward. If not for ourselves, then for Penelope. I don’t want to dwell on what happened three years ago.”
“Done.” He agrees. “We move forward.”
“As friends.” You tell him and his shoulders slouch a bit. “I don’t think I’m ready to revisit this-” you point between the both of you. “-romantically. And I don’t mean that in a mean way. I think we should just focus on being the best parents we can be for Penelope and learn to co-parent well. Our priority right now should be Penelope… that is, if you want to be a part of her life. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, sorry for assuming-”
“I want to.” He cut you off. “More than anything, I want to be a part of Penny’s life.”
“Okay, good.” You look at Penelope who was still munching on her food. Half of it was in her mouth, the other half was all over her face. “We can talk about you coming over to visit her here? I want to ease her into this slowly. All she’s known since she was born was me, my mom, and my dad and I don’t want to overwhelm or scare her with this change.”
Steve nods. “I’ll go at whatever pace you set, Y/N. I’m just glad to be a part of her life now. And… yours.”
“As friends.” You remind him.
“Yeah,” he smiles softly, “as friends.”
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frogchiro · 1 year
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HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!
[art by doujinpearl]
ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33
tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major
I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.
okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!
Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.
And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.
But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.
König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!
And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.
I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.
You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.
It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.
The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.
Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?
When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?
Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.
And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.
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i-suc-at-art · 4 months
Text
DpxDc prompt #2
Full prompt from this idea
Tim and Danny are apart of an online RPG which is basically DND but anonymous and online. (it’s mainly for secret nerds who don’t have anyone irl to play with)
Danny plays as a changeling rogue who will often swipe things from players they don’t like
Tim plays a Variant Human, monk who wields a pole staff (my guy is not subtle) and will often give back the things danny (who’s known as wraith) (Tim goes by Scarlet Redpoll (mainly just Scarlet though)) stole
Rules of the RPG:
Everyone remains under their game handle (so there’s no doxing) NO REAL NAMES
You can interact with other parties who are using the same campaign as you, however when interacting with main story plot your party will go into its own private server
You can have a party of any size however it’s recommended to have a party over 4.. However you can make it with two or three or solo (but that’s just kinda sad..)
There is a chat feature and call feature in the game, however no hate speech, or bigotry
You can’t join a call unless your apart of the party
ofc this doesn’t stop it from happening but that’s not really relevant to the story
There are Dms (dungeon masters) but your team can also just use the computer for your Dm
Your character can be completely customized, and you’ll move around on a map
Ok now to the fun stuff
Danny and Tim (Wraith and Scarlet) have been playing together for about 3 months, and have made a commitment to play every 2 weeks on sunday (ghosts tend to take a break every 2 weeks on sundays (and B forced Tim to take a break from everything including cases every 2 weeks on sunday) Although sometimes each will get pulled away from the game and they’ll have to end early.
Anyways their campaign doesn’t super matter, only that they are online friends. Ok so one day Tim texts Wraith (they use online name bc y'know tim’s like uber famous) that he can’t make it to their session today bc his dad is forcing him to “bond” Aka he’s going to a gala with Bruce and Dick to stop a heist team that has been rampant across socialite and high society events. Wraith tells him it’s alright, and that coincidentally he’s busy too and was just about to cancel.
As Tim surveils everyone he curses Bruce for making him come. Tim had gotten into the habit of getting a night off from everything. He’d also not gotten a chance to do ample research on the guests beforehand because he’d been working on researching the thieves. He’d heard some chatter about the group looking into a possible haunted vahz, that was on display for the night. Tim had been surveying the party staying near the vahz making sure everyone checked out. Dick had texted saying that he’d cornered a possible thieving candidate and that he needed Tim to run an face ID check, on the picture he’d taken. The photo was of a young woman, her red hair caused Tim to think of Babs, but the woman’s simple teal evening dress couldn’t be further from her style. He’d done a quick search of the woman, she seemed to be some sort of rich young socialite, definitely Dicks type.. Her name was Kelly Jankins, no criminal history, or past arrests, she had a couple of parking tickets that were waved from her late teens. But nothing out of the ordinary. Tim texted Dick the information (save for the part about her being Dicks type) before stuffing his phone back into his pocket and moving from his post to go and get a drink. About 20 feet from his post he bumped into a nicely dressed guy, his hair black and suit tailored.. He also wore a Vladco pin on his left breast pocket.
He’d apologized and Tim told him it was no big deal, his eyes were blue.. But he could have sworn they were green when he first looked up. And his voice.. It sounded so familiar. Why did it sound familiar..?
As Tim walked away it hit him like a truck.. Wraith.
—————
Danny, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had been stealing for some time now, after Danny had been outed as Phantom to the whole town by his parents. Him, Sam, and Tucker had decided to all leave Amity since all of their parents were unaccepting.. Sam’s parents had gone so far as to write her out of their will.. Danny had told her and Tuck to stay in Amity and fix their relationships with their family, but they’d both said ‘that if Danny wasn’t in Amity Park then they didn’t have their family.’ So they left. The three stayed with Jazz for a bit but she was a broke college student that barely had enough money for food and rent. So the three started stealing food.. It was out of necessity at first, and only from big companies, but when Sam got an online invitation to a big gala that was showing off some old artifacts from a rich guy’s private collection, Danny felt a pull toward a particular item from his core. The item belonged to someone in the ghost zone.. and he needed to have it. He needed to return it.
So they stole it. Danny was to be Sam’s plus one as he’s basically a haunted item metal detector. Sam would steal the item and Tuck would turn out the lights and secretly system. Then Danny would get him and Sam out of there. Most of their plans would be similar to this format. Sam would also grift from the other patrons, only stealing from the ones who seemed to have a shit ton of money. Eventually even teaching Danny how to do it too, she’d told him that ‘using his ghost powers were a cop out’ when he brought that up.. and that ‘anyone would be able to feel the chill of it.’ Which Danny was sure that that was untrue.. But he learned how to steal a wallet, or a phone Sam’s way.
Jazz had been against the thefts at first saying that all of these items belonged to the original owner. But soon she was persuaded when Danny told her that they were stealing stolen items. Stolen ghost items. Some of the items even had a ghost core attached to it. So Jazz became their planner, she’d make sure they’d have all the info they needed and that no one got caught.
Danny ends up in jail after being caught trying to lift someone’s wallet.. Jazz was there to legally get him out and pay the bail. Tucker got caught in a backroom of a place they were stealing from. ‘Oh yeah that’s her brother who would often get himself trapped in closets looking for the bathroom.. She apologizes profusely..’
So when Tucker had found their newest item, a haunted vase that had a shit ton of death and destruction attached to it, Jazz had thought up the plan. She’d heard whisperings that Vlad had gotten invited to the party but Danny was going to go in his place since Vlad would never go. Then they had a plan. A plan they were meant to stick to, until someone ran her face and Danny started being followed. So they abandoned the vase opting to get out of there instead of getting caught.
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crguang · 4 months
Text
love language
Overworked and always putting themselves second, both Himeko and Natasha just need someone to help them relax after a tiring day <3
fluffy smut, sub!himeko, sub!natasha, gn!reader, oral sex, fingering, squirting (himeko), ~3k words for both
A/N: this was in the drafts for 2 months… finally polished it off enough to post it omg.
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You’re cozy between warm sheets and fluffy pillows, the light of the cabin dimmed to help you relax as you read the last few sentences of the volume in your hands.
You’re entirely focused on the story’s conclusion until you reach the last words and blink out of the daze you’ve been in for the past… three hours? You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand, disbelievingly at first, then softly close the book. It’s past midnight, you hadn’t planned to finish it tonight and you’re surprised you managed to get through the end without getting interrupted. The day’s fatigue accumulates at the corner of your eyes. For a minute, you sit in the bed, simply taking in the book you just read. It left you somewhat unsatisfied, you’re not a fan of the protagonists walking different paths after spending most of the story working to reunite with each other. It reminds you of the Astral Express, of the bonds you’ve forged with the Nameless; the thought of one day separating from them saddens you. You know each of them have a road to follow but they’ve become family over the years, that also goes for Stelle, who’s the team’s newest addition.
As you reflect on your book, you realize— a little late— that you’re alone in the cabin. The spot beside you is untouched as it was this morning, not a crease on the clean pillows. You frown. Himeko must still be working on the train, even after telling you it wouldn’t be long and that she’d be ready for bed before you could finish another chapter. You don’t care about her not fulfilling her word, concern swells in your chest instead because it’s the third day this week where she’s slept past one in the morning, too preoccupied with making sure the Express runs smoothly. She easily forgoes rest to prioritize her work, and while you’re all grateful for her dedication, you wish she would not consider herself second best.
You lift the comforter off your body and step into your slippers. You stretch your arms over your head as you make your way to the door, softly sliding it open. The train car is quiet, only a low whirring sound can be heard from the archive room, the familiar noise relaxing you. The lights are dimmed, never completely shut in case of emergency. You walk down the corridor to reach the parlor. The door slides open and you hear soft murmurs of conversation as you step into the parlor, blinking a couple times to adjust to the bright lights. Himeko is seated on one of the large couches, discussing something with Pom-Pom, and doesn’t hear you come in. The conductor does since they’re facing you, but they only nod pensively at whatever Himeko is saying.
You cross your arms over your chest and wait, leaning on the wall. It gives you the chance to admire your pretty girlfriend; her coat is discarded somewhere on the train, leaving her shoulders bare, and from this angle you can pinpoint the few dispersed moles on her shoulder blades while the rest are hidden by her silky, red hair. Her face is bare of any makeup, long lashes brushing her cheeks with every blink and plump, pink lips you can’t help but stare at. You can almost smell her signature perfume if you concentrate long enough, it’s usually mixed with a strong coffee aroma to create a scent specific to her. Himeko is a refreshing sight no matter the hour of the day.
You don’t mind waiting for her to notice you, not wanting to interrupt her conversation. She eventually does when she gestures to the phonograph, eyes glossing over you for a second before she turns back to Pom-Pom, then head whirling back to you as she registers your presence in the room. Himeko smiles softly at you, waving in greeting, and you return it easily. You can’t really hear what they’re saying because of how low they’re talking, only snippets and words that make no sense out of context. After another minute where you assume the conversation is getting wrapped up, Himeko stands from the couch and bids the conductor goodnight. She walks over to you and reaches for your hand the moment she’s close enough, fingers lacing with yours.
“You’re still up?” Himeko asks, her thumb absentmindedly rubbing your skin.
“Mhm. I finished my book.”
“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I had to fix a couple things, then Pom-Pom wanted to share their thoughts on something, I lost track of time. You shouldn’t have waited.”
Her free hand comes up to cup your cheek for an instant before lowering down your bicep. Himeko is always touching you in some way, whether it’s with a palm on your lower back or her fingertips tracing shapes into your forearm. She does it unconsciously, you noticed. It warms you to think that her body seeks yours out whenever you’re in the same room.
“It’s nothing,” you say, “I’m more concerned about you.”
“Me?”
“You’ve been sleeping later and later recently. Are you okay?”
Something gleams in Himeko’s eyes at the worry lacing your words. Her gaze softens like it often does when she looks at you and a small smile grows on her lips, squeezing your hand once.
“Of course. There’s always something to do on the Express, is all. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’ll always worry about you.”
You see appreciation on her face. Himeko leans forward to press a sweet, chaste kiss on your lips. Her hand tugs you along as she opens the parlor door and begins to walk towards her cabin.
“Come on, let’s go to bed.”
You let her lead you to her room. It’s in the same state you left it, but it feels warmer with her here. You settle onto the bed as Himeko rummages around for the gown she sleeps in and unashamedly take in the curves of her body as she undresses. She shoots you an amused look that has you smiling innocently, pulling the gown over her head and smoothing out her hair. She joins you, lays down against the pillows and wraps her arms around you to gently pull you into her. You inhale slowly into her neck. One hand strokes your hair and you sigh softly at the same time Himeko makes a noise of contentment. A comfortable silence stretches between you for a moment, broken only by the reassuring sound of the Express in the background. You sneak an arm around her waist to hold her tighter.
“I love having you like this…” Himeko murmurs with a slow exhale. “I look forward to it every night.”
You hum, nuzzling into her. Your reply is slightly muffled, “You do so much in a day. You deserve to feel this relaxed more often.”
“Sometimes I don’t know how you have the energy to deal with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Himeko sighs again, and her hand trails down your back in soothing motions. “You're so understanding with me, indulging me when I need it. You're always there, even when I don't know I need something, you give me the help I need. You don’t mind me working late so often; you have… so much patience for me.”
You pull away from her to look her in the eyes, brows furrowed in confusion. “Himeko, you’re the sweetest, most reliable person alive. How could I not be patient with you?”
She laughs quietly and cups your cheek. Her lidded eyes are full of affection as her thumb caresses your skin.
“You and your sweet words. It's hard not to believe them when you say them with such a sincere tone.”
“That’s because they’re true.”
Himeko brings you close with a hand on the back of your neck. Her lips meet yours in a tender kiss and your eyes shut in bliss at the feeling of her mouth moving against yours. She’s soft and warm and loving, keeping you in place until she’s had her fill and lets you lean back to catch your breath. You rest your foreheads together, noses brushing. Himeko’s hands travel up your body, from your hips to your waist and back down in steady touches, enjoying the feel of your curves. You plant gentle kisses on her jaw and almost feel her melt under you.
“You deserve every ounce of kindness…” your lips trail up to the apple of her cheek, “every show of appreciation…” you kiss her forehead then descend to the bridge of her nose; it scrunches up slightly with her growing smile, “and affection that comes your way.” You press another languid kiss to her lips.
Himeko’s gaze shows only adoration when you pull away to look at her, breathing a little heavier. Her lips are parted ever so slightly, her hands squeezing your waist. You swipe some hair out of her face as your palm rests on her cheek. Any fatigue you previously felt disappears at the sight of her under you like this, looking up at you with such admiration. It still feels a bit unreal, for someone so good to stare at you this way, it makes you believe that perhaps you too are deserving of others’ love.
You lean closer, the tip of your nose grazing hers, voice soft and eyes fluttering shut. “If you’re still in doubt, I could show you, if you’d like.”
Himeko’s smile turns teasing as your hand slips under her nightgown to slide up her knee. She pretends to think about it.
“Mmm… That depends on how you plan to do that.”
“Well, I have a few ideas… They all include you whimpering for me.”
Her chuckle makes you smile.
“Whimpering? You’re confident.”
“With reason, I assure you.”
Himeko welcomes your mouth on hers with enthusiasm, one of her hands curling around your nape. You’ve learned how to make her so dizzy with need that she’s entirely at your mercy, and it starts with the gentle swipe of your tongue over her bottom lip. Her lips part wider to deepen the kiss and you feel her fingers tighten their hold on your neck. Her tongue slides over yours, accustomed to your taste and still so breathless, while you rub her thigh. She hums low against your mouth as you try your best to adjust your position above her without breaking the kiss. Your thigh lodges itself between hers, feeling them clench once before relaxing into the bed.
Himeko is easy to please; loving touches up her torso to her chest makes her gasp softly, your tongue past her lips has her pulling you closer, and the slight pressure from your thigh between her legs is enough for her breathing to stutter. You kiss down her jaw to her neck and she tilts her head to make herself more accessible to your mouth. You know which spot makes her sigh in pleasure and which causes her to jerk her hips into your touch. You suck on her pulse point, humming at the fingers that tangle themselves in your hair at the gesture. The skin of her throat reddens and you lick it to soothe the pain before pulling away from her completely.
You sit up, gazing down at the flush of her cheeks and the rise of her chest. The square neckline of her nightgown gives you a tantalizing view of her cleavage. You bring a hand to touch the mole over her right breast, index finger massaging the flesh around it.
“So beautiful you are,” you say absentmindedly, pulling her clothes down with your free hand to watch how her breasts spill from their confines.
Himeko bites her lip in anticipation. The obvious desire in her gaze spurs you on, and you take handfuls of her heavy breasts to fondle them. The friction of your warm palms on her hardening nipples has her fingers sinking into the sheets. You twist a pink nipple between two fingers, delighting in the quiet moan that follows. Himeko’s breasts are so pliable, so plush, you can’t help lowering your mouth to one and sucking it like a pacifier. Her nipple puffs up under your wet tongue and you swallow a sound of pleasure at the feeling. Your teeth graze the soft skin of her breasts and leave faint marks across her chest everywhere they go. Her breasts shine with a thin coat of saliva when you finally separate yourself from them, and Himeko’s audibly breathing through her mouth, fingers curling around your locks. Her hips seek friction for her pussy by pressing into your thigh, but it’s not enough to relieve the need between her legs. Her nightgown has risen up to the top of her thighs, barely hiding her damp panties from sight.
You take in your work of art on her chest, the glisten of her puffy nipples and the shades of red on her skin slowly shifting into gorgeous blues and purples. Your thumb circles her sensitive bud as you watch Himeko’s brows quiver in pleasure. She won’t beg you for more, yet, even if what she needs is spelled out on her face.
You hook your fingers under the thin strap of her gown and let it snap against her skin as you let go. “Take it off, princess.”
Satisfaction swirls in your gut when she complies, sliding her arms out of the straps and pulling the material down her waist. You move to allow her to take it off completely and discard it somewhere on the bed, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. Your hands greedily travel up her thighs to her waist, squeezing the soft curves of her love handles along the way. Tiny moles decorate her body from her chest to her inner thigh like final touches on a meticulously painted artwork. Blood runs hot under her skin, adding a little color to the painting that she is. She’s stunning, and she’s yours.
You settle between her legs and prop her knees up to spread her thighs. Himeko grips your hair once more, her favorite, as you knead the flesh of her inner thighs.
“Seriously, Hime,” your eyes are glued to the damp patch on her cotton panties, arousal pooling in your belly, “the Knights of Beauty should be worshiping you.”
Himeko’s breathless laugh turns into a low moan when you use two fingers to rub her lower lips over her underwear, feeling her arousal ruin the material until it sticks to her pussy. You can see the outline of her labia under the fabric and you don’t even have it in you to tease her. Your index pulls her panties aside, revealing her glistening cunt and making you bite your bottom lip in lust. You lean forward to kiss around her labia. The smell of her arousal fills your sinuses and you feel desire tighten your stomach. Himeko urges you closer to her pussy with the hand in your hair, hips jerking towards your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick her leisurely, slithering between her folds and ignoring her twitching clit. You moan into her cunt at the taste of her and Himeko lets out a noise close to a whimper, bucking into you to feel more of your tongue on her pussy.
You quickly tire of keeping her panties at bay, so you waste no time in sliding them down her legs and tossing them on the floor. Her cunt is entirely exposed to you, slick dripping between her ass cheeks. She’s so wet, her clit stands at the ready, waiting for you to wrap your lips around it and suck. You spread her lips with two fingers and lower your mouth to her pussy, licking up her slit like a thirsty kitty.
“Mmngh…” Himeko makes the sweetest noises above you, from breathy moans to quiet whimpers as you work her up, eyes shut in pleasure. Her free hand grabs a fistful of the sheets under her. “Ah… Nnh…”
You tease her entrance with a finger, not quite sliding inside. Your tongue swirls around her aching clit, from base to tip, and you’re rewarded by a poorly restrained moan from your pretty girlfriend. Himeko’s thighs twitch as you lap her up but she finds the strength to keep them spread for you, instead gripping your hair a bit tighter to pull you towards her cunt. A finger tentatively pushes into her pussy to the knuckle and her hips stutter in their steady rocking at the welcomed intrusion. She gets used to the sensation quickly, brows twitching, and you curl the digit to hit a specific spot inside her, a drawn out moan escaping her.
“Nngh…” Himeko whimpers out your name, chest heaving, “m—more…”
You can’t refuse her when she sounds so fucking pretty. You harshly suck her clit, feeling it throb, and push another finger inside her clenching cunt. She squeezes your digits but takes them like a champ, allowing you to plunge deep into her to hit the spongy spot that makes her cry out. You look up at her as she grinds her pussy on the flat of your tongue, lost in pleasure. Her breasts move with every jerk of her hips, her lips are forever parted to let out soft mewls and her creamy skin glows under the lights from the sweat accumulating on her body. The wet sounds of your digits thrusting into her cunt are sinful, they fill the cabin along with Himeko’s barely contained moans. Her belly tightens with need, and she clenches around your fingers with another desperate whimper. You flick your tongue on her engorged clit a few times, drilling into her with a pace you know she likes, hard and fast. Slow, loving touches on her body will turn Himeko on like nothing else but when she gets like this, only thinking about her release, she needs it rough enough to push her over the edge. She meets your efforts halfway and grinds into you, swallowing your fingers further into her wet pussy.
You can tell how close she is by the pitch of her voice; it gets slightly higher with every passing minute you spend with your nose buried into her cunt.
“P–Please—” Himeko babbles, “Let me…”
You find it adorable how the last push she needs is often just the confirmation that she’s allowed to come.
“Come for me, princess.”
Himeko whines, squeezing your fingers tight as she gushes into your mouth. Her cum coats your lips and chin and you lap it up eagerly, moaning at the taste. You clean her up diligently while her thighs threaten to close around your head and her clit throbs with her orgasm. She comes on your tongue with a pretty noise of pleasure and you ease your fingers out of her fluttering pussy to keep her thighs pinned to the mattress. You lick up her slit once, twice, desperate to swallow more of her cum. Himeko inhales sharply when your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit. You know her body inside and out, and so you know that sucking her clit right after an orgasm will make her squirt like she is now, spurts of cum coating your face and her needy cries filling your ears. She makes a mess for you, ruining the sheets under her, until she can’t take it anymore and has to pull you away from her cunt by the hair so she can catch her breath.
You relent, swiping your tongue over your lips and looking up at her with a cocky smirk. Himeko struggles to regulate her breathing, chest heaving and limbs still twitching from the aftershocks. You hover over her to press a gentle kiss to her jaw.
“We really should relax this way more often.”
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“You work yourself too hard.”
Your warm, muttered words send a shiver across the skin of Natasha’s nape and the sensation spreads down her back as would a chilling gust of wind, the kind that only appears during Belobog’s most forgiving winters. It leaves goosebumps in its wake that you chase away with the palm of your hands firmly pressing over her shoulder blades, tracing the protruding bones lower down her back before slowly bringing your hands to rest on her shoulders. You hear her soft sigh as you massage her skin and undo knots of long accumulated stress from her muscles. You’re sure her eyes are closed despite being unable to see her.
“I have to,” she replies, her voice just as low, like speaking any louder will disturb the quiet around you.
Your hands run down her arms at an unhurried pace. You love touching her, love the feel of her. It’s a beautiful thing, touch; the warmth of her merging with yours, the particular bumps and wrinkles and stretch marks unique to her can all be felt under your fingertips. You have discovered every crevice, every nook and cranny of her with only your hands. On nights like this one, when the pressure catches up to her, she’s pliable under your touch and all the more enchanting. You bury your nose where her neck meets her shoulder, inhale the scent of the perfumed soap she used in the bath an hour earlier and lace your fingers with hers when your hands end their trek on the sensitive surface of her wrists.
You feel her lean into you a little more when you speak, “One day soon, you’ll be able to take a break without the sky collapsing.”
It’s unfair, though you understand how much the Underworld needs Natasha. She stepped forward when no one else did and naturally took over the responsibility for its citizens’ wellbeing, she is without a doubt an integral part of the small society you built around the mines. She bears this burden with a humble heart and a tired smile. The pride you feel for her goes beyond the Underworld’s dark ceilings, maybe even beyond the white clouds she sometimes tells you about when you question her about the surface. She is a diamond amongst pebbles, wasting her time on even the most worthless of you because she believes that everyone deserves a fighting chance. Her selflessness knows no bounds, and you feel sad. The bags under her eyes get darker every morning. Sleep claims her the minute her pretty hair touches the pillows. You wish she would allow herself some reprieve but Natasha has no self-serving bone in her body. She can’t be selfish, so you have to, lest she gets buried under unreasonable demands and complaints. With the appointment of a new Supreme Guardian, however, and the channels between the two worlds open once again, things are looking brighter. The fragmentum has stopped spreading and for once, you see a glint of hope in the gazes of the Underworlders. The Supreme Guardian’s plans for a painless future lift some of that persistent weight off Natasha’s shoulders. You’re grateful for it.
“I think part of me won’t know what to do when the time does come,” Natasha admits. She brings your arms tighter around her frame and sighs. “I can’t imagine not being needed…”
“People will always need you. You just won’t have the pressure to uphold half a city from the brink of disaster. You deserve that.”
She doesn’t reply to that. You free one hand and lift your head, then delicately grab a hold of her jaw to tilt her face towards yours. Her eyes blink open and you see the fatigue incrusted into their rubied depths.
“You deserve that,” you repeat firmly, watching as her gaze grows softer. “You of all people deserve to be free of anxiety and responsibility. I’ll make you see it one day, too.” Your thumb trails up her chin to her bottom lip. “Until then, I’ll take care of you when you won’t.”
Her lip twitches and her eyelashes flutter, taken with sudden emotion, before she simply leans closer and captures your mouth with hers, an unsaid “thank you” dying in her throat. The hand still intertwined with yours squeezes gently as she kisses you. It keeps you grounded to her presence in your arms and her touch on your body. You taste her chapstick on your tongue when she opens her mouth further to deepen the kiss. It’s the same she wears every day but it’s no less intoxicating.
“Nat…” you murmur against her lips, “I want to help you relax, if only for tonight.”
You hear her intake of breath as you plant open kisses up and down her jaw, following invisible patterns of affection on her skin like carefully woven threads. Natasha nods softly when your lips reach hers once more and the happy smile that grows on your face fills her with warmth even the bulkiest coats couldn’t provide.
She lets you adjust yourself behind her. You guide her to lean back so your chest is flushed against her and her breath tickles your neck.
Your hands brush the sides of her chest over her shirt and curl to hold her breasts properly. Natasha sucks in a breath when you squeeze them a little; you know she’s always been sensitive there, how pleasant it is for her. You palm her flesh, enjoying the softness of it beneath your hands and its quickly hardening tips. Your thumb swipes over one nipple and feels it grow from the sensation. You give the other the same attention and it’s not long before your pointer fingers join the fun to gently pinch the doctor’s nipples. Natasha shifts slightly, bringing one leg up to squeeze her thighs together, and you almost huff out a laugh at the action. You can feel the embarrassment radiating off of her at how easily aroused she’s getting, so you decide not to tease her too much. Verbally, at least, because your hands aren’t leaving her breasts until her underwear is well and truly ruined.
A muffled noise of pleasure escapes Natasha when you twist her nipples just right between two fingers. Her lips are parted and her breathing has gotten heavier. She grabs your thigh with a hand to compose herself somewhat. Though her face is obscured from your sight, you know her eyes are squeezed shut as she allows herself to enjoy your attention.
“Ah…” She breathes out as you finally slip your hands under her shirt and caress the plane of her stomach. Goosebumps follow wherever your touch strays.
Her nipples are like pretty pebbles on her chest, a rosy color you can’t yet see. They’re hard and sensitive judging by the way Natasha squeezes her legs together every so often, and you can’t help the fondness you feel at her compliance. She’s aroused and ready for you to go further, but she takes what you give without complaint or plea. It makes you want to give her everything she needs, patience be damned. You bite your lip at the thought. Tonight is all about Natasha’s pleasure, after all.
Keeping one hand around her breast, you trail the other down her torso until it reaches the edge of her pajama pants. Her thighs spread almost immediately to accommodate you and you coo softly at the sight, breathing out a chuckle when you feel Natasha press further into your neck out of embarrassment.
“Don’t worry,” you say, slipping into her pants to brush her underwear, “I’ll take good care of you.”
“…I know,” she replies, voice soft.
The trust she willingly puts in you is heartwarming, it expands your chest cavity to make place for your inflating heart. You explore her covered sex with two fingers and feel the arousal seeping from the thin cloth. She always gets so wet from nipple stimulation… Cute. Natasha moans when you spread her lips and apply pressure to her clit. You long to feel it twitch under your tongue, but you’ve teased her enough for now. Your hand slithers past her panties to finally give her what she wants. Natasha’s moans are breathy “oh”’s and “ah”’s that she no longer tries to conceal. Your fingers smear her arousal all over her cunt before paying special attention to her puffy clit. Sensitive as it feels, you enjoy the way her thighs twitch as you massage its base while pinching her nipple. The added stimulation coats your hand in warm, sticky fluids.
“Ah! Please…” Natasha mutters with a swallow, grip tightening on your thigh.
You shush her nicely, swiping the pad of your index finger over her clit in firm circles. “I know, Nat. Just relax.”
You imagine her brows twisting in pleasure and her pretty lips trembling. Her chest heaves with uncontrolled breaths and you have half a mind to yank her shirt over her head so you can see her perky nipples rise and fall with the flow.
You give her clit some reprieve and ignore the immediate little whine of indignation that follows. She’s so wet as you trail down her cunt to her entrance that you decide to push two fingers inside her instead of one. You feel her cunt clench around your digits and bite back a groan as you rub her walls. Natasha moans your name, voice breaking in the middle, and her toes curl when you pick up the pace inside her. She’s a vocal mess despite not uttering any actual words. Her panting against your neck is so arousing you only plunge your fingers harder into her.
You twist and pull her nipple with your other hand. Natasha somehow restrains herself from squirming under your touch to make your job easier and you make a mental note of rewarding her for her consideration.
“Just like that,” you encourage her, her cunt squeezing you like a vice. “I’ve got you.”
Your only response is a small whine and the bucking of her hips against your hand. They move in tandem with the rhythm of your fingers, greedily chasing release.
“You’re doing so good, Natty, letting me help you like this…”
Your words make her cunt clench. The noises filling your bedroom are positively filthy as the heel of your palm grazes Natasha’s sensitive clit. She’s close, you can feel it, so you keep up the pace until she comes with a cry into your neck, teeth brushing your skin and hips stuttering. You slow down inside her only slightly to help prolong her orgasm and one of her hands grabs yours on her breast when she arches towards the ceiling. It takes a moment before Natasha settles back against you, breathy and slack. You gently slip out of her.
You let her catch her breath, instead bringing your hand to light to see how her arousal clings to your digits. Spreading them makes a string that connects the two and you hum before turning back to Natasha. You push her forward a little, enough to be able to capture her mouth in a sloppy kiss. Your tongue pushes past her lips to intertwine with hers.
Natasha pulls away to rest her forehead on yours.
“Thank you…” she says softly.
“You’re welcome. But I’m not done with you yet.”
She leans back to look you in the eyes and her incredulous expression makes you laugh.
“You’ve done more than enough. Let me at least—”
“Nuh uh,” you interrupt her, moving from behind her to saddle her waist. She makes a noise of surprise when you push her fully into the bed.
You steal a kiss from her as your hands travel up her torso to raise her shirt over head and toss it to the floor. Leaning back, you can finally appreciate the sight of her bare chest rising to meet you. You take a pink nipple into your mouth, humming in satisfaction when Natasha lets out a little moan. Her hands grip your hair to keep you close. Your tongue swirls around the hardened bud, coating it so it shines in the light when you pull away. You waste no time in sucking the other one, hard and fast, enjoying the feel of it in your mouth and Natasha’s growing pleasure.
Your own lips shine with saliva when you tear your mouth from her chest and look up at her in reverence.
“You’re so pretty, Nat,” her lidded gaze meets yours as you speak, blood rushing to her cheeks. “I wanna fuck you until you can’t walk.”
“Oh…” is all she can say, bringing one hand to partly cover her flushing face.
“But,” you move to take off her pajama pants completely before settling between her thighs and wrapping your arms around them, “I said I’d help you relax, not incapacitate you… I’ll choose my words more carefully next time.”
Her heel digs into your back when you bury your nose in her slick cunt. She’s intoxicating and still so sensitive from her previous orgasm that you only need to blow on her clit for it to twitch. Your tongue darts out to taste her fully, the flat of it licking up her slit to take her pulsing clit into your mouth. Natasha’s hips push against you even as her thighs shake from the stimulation and the hand in your hair pulls you closer to her slippery sex. All you can hear, feel, taste is her. The noises she makes are a melody to your ears and the warmth that overcomes you can’t be put into words. You trail wet kisses all over her cunt, groaning at the way it pulses under you.
You focus on her clit, sucking and licking and teasing until her thighs close in on you, pressing against your ears.
“F-Fuck…”
Natasha rarely swears. Knowing how much of a mess you’re making of her for her to utter such a word is such a turn on. You squeeze your legs together in a failed attempt at relieving the pressure between them. You want tonight to be all about her, so you ignore your needs and slurp her folds like a starved kitten. The tip of your nose bumps her clit as you do and Natasha’s soft mewls spur you on.
It doesn’t take long before she’s coming into your mouth with a long moan, hips bucking closer to your tongue. You lap up the arousal leaking from her puffy cunt and let her grind into your face until her orgasm passes. Natasha falls back into the bed after a moment, audibly panting, eyes still squeezed shut. You look up to see her features slowly morph into a tired, fucked out expression. Pulling away from her sex, you lick your lips and wipe your face with your clean hand.
You climb up the bed to press a tender kiss to her jaw. Her eyes blink open, her gaze warm and in love as she looks at you.
You cup her cheek with a hand and mutter, “I hate to ask more of you, but promise me you’ll make an effort to take better care of yourself. For me?”
Natasha sighs, lips stretching into a small smile. “If I can’t, you’ll be there to do it for me?”
“Of course. Anything for you.”
512 notes · View notes
minisugakoobies · 5 months
Text
It's You - Choi San | 3 AM
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Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me
Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?
A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱
Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.
Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕
It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist
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It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 
There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.
“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 
San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 
“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 
“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 
“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 
With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 
You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.
“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 
It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 
But he can’t sleep here. 
“San. San, are you awake?” 
“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.
“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 
San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 
“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 
You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.
It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.
San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 
He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 
“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 
“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 
“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”
“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 
This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.
Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 
He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 
So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.
His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 
And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 
If you reach that point. 
“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 
You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 
“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 
“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 
“Then what time is it?”
Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 
“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 
“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 
“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 
But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.
“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 
San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 
Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 
Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.
Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 
“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “
The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 
“Noona.” 
You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 
“She’s in early today, right?” 
The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.
“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 
He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?
Yeah, that’s probably it. 
“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.
“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 
And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 
“Okay.”
San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.
“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 
“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.
“Right, none of that.”
“Just cuddles?” 
As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 
“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 
Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 
You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 
(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)
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If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch
© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
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writingwithfolklore · 5 months
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How to Hold Yourself Accountable as a Professional Writer
              Okay maybe you’re not self-employed or professional yet and writing definitely isn’t bringing in the big bucks, but you’d like it to some day, and you’re working right now on making that a reality. This post is for you, because the best time to practice getting into a healthy writing habit and holding yourself accountable to writing for that future where it’s your full time gig is now—before it’s essential to do so.
1. It will never be easy
It’s easy to think that maintaining a schedule or habit for writing would be easy if only it was your full-time gig and all you needed to do. While it might be easier than trying to cram in writing between classes or jobs, it will never be easy. You’re always going to have multiple things going on, there’s always going to be something you could be or need to be doing other than writing. Developing good habits right now, when it is really hard, is going to set you up far better than just waiting for it to get easy before you fully commit to it.
2. Set a schedule that actually works for you
I did a whole post on making a writing schedule you can actually manage and maintain here:
But the TL;DR is that in order to keep to a schedule, you have to make sure it’s attainable. Fit when you write around your other life schedule. For example, if you’re really not a morning person, planning on waking up at 5am every morning to write for a couple hours is probably not something you’ll be able to maintain. But setting aside an hour before bed may be more manageable for you.
3. Form a habit
To train your brain to make your writing schedule a habit you’ll actually stick to, you should make it into a routine. Similar to how you have a bedtime routine that sets you up to feel sleepy at night, a routine that sets you up for writing will make it harder to turn away from your manuscript, and help inspire a productive writing block.
              You can create a writing playlist with songs that inspire your project you listen to whenever you begin writing, make a tea or other drink to sip on while you write, grab a snack, share your schedule with a writing buddy and write together, put together a document of inspiring quotes, photos, or other muses you can read, or really anything that gets you into the writing mood. By following this routine every time you set up to write, you’ll train your brain to get into a mindset that will make it easier to stick to your writing block.
4. Reward yourself
Brains love doing things for a reward. Maybe after a productive writing block you can spend some time doing something else you love, like watching an episode of your favourite show, lighting a candle, taking a bath, or having a glass of wine, I don’t know, anything that would give your brain the happy juice in response to your good work.
5. Set deadlines and goals
Writing consistently is basically the majority of the battle. I don’t typically worry about word count, but I do know that it can be helpful for others to set wordcount goals and deadlines to ensure productivity. If that sounds like you, make sure your goals are actionable while also being attainable. “Finish novel” isn’t a great goal, but “write 2000 words per week for three months” could be helpful if you know that 2000 words is attainable for you.
              Same as before, you can also set rewards for when you reach your goals. I have a big tattoo upcoming if I complete my goal for the year.
              The last tip I have for this point is to try to find an accountabili-buddy to hold you to your goals and deadlines if you think that would be helpful for you. As a professional writer, you may be held accountable by an editor or agent, so practicing through asking a buddy to help you set deadlines and deliverables will help prepare you for writing towards a date.
The TL;DR is find out what works for you and practice doing it consistently! Anything else I missed?
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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months
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Secret Admirer
Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen
wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3
cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph
In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened. 
Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he’s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.
Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.
Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him. 
Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything.  Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK
The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.
It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger. 
Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection. 
He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do. 
Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?) 
It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him. 
Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes  before putting it to the paper.
Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am.  Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time.  And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded.  Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.)  But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph.  It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust.  And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy.  P.P.S.  If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.
Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed. 
Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…
The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table. 
Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.
~
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve
Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve
@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation
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vampirefest · 17 days
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Hello, dearest companions in the darkness! Have you missed us, because we've been longing and yearning for you these past long months!
Kinktober ♥︎ is right around the corner and for our second edition of the event, we've compiled some sexy vampire-themed prompts just for you. Check out the list of prompts, and the rules and guidelines below.
We can't wait to see you in October ♥︎
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Prompts
WEEK 1: PASSION
♡ Day 1: Coffin
♡ Day 2: Mutual Masturbation
♡ Day 3: Clothed Sex
♡ Day 4: Telepathic / Phone
♡ Day 5: Threesome
♡ Day 6: Shower / Bath
WEEK 2: OBSESSION
♡ Day 7: Dirty Talk
♡ Day 8: Hate sex
♡ Day 9: Outdoors / Public 
♡ Day 10: Stalking
♡ Day 11: Biting / Marking
♡ Day 12: Touch Starved
♡ Day 13: Edging
WEEK 3: DEVOTION
♡ Day 14: Body Worship
♡ Day 15: Master / Slave
♡ Day 16: Bondage / Restraints
♡ Day 17: Soft And Sweet
♡ Day 18: Aftercare
♡ Day 19: Toys
♡ Day 20: Praise Kink
WEEK 4: FASCINATION
♡ Day 21: Oral Fixation
♡ Day 22: Feeding Kink
♡ Day 23: Mirror Sex
♡ Day 24: Voyeurism
♡ Day 25: Fingers
♡ Day 26: Nipple Play
♡ Day 27: Interspecies / Monsterfucking
WEEK 5: EXPRESSION
♡ Day 28: Lingerie / Striptease
♡ Day 29: Mask / Incognito 
♡ Day 30: Leather
♡ Day 31: Costume / Roleplay
Rules and guidelines
This event is 18+ only since it's focused on NSFW content. Not all fills need to be NSFW, but as the perverts that we are, we highly encourage you to get freaky with it. 
All adaptations and versions of the characters are welcome; books, comics, the 1994 film, or the AMC TV show. You can specify which in your post if you think it's relevant.
There are 31 prompts, one for each day, but feel free to use multiple prompts per creation or mix and match as you like.
All fan creations are welcome; fanfiction, fanart, fanvids, edits, podfics, whatever you feel inspired to create.
We are firm believers of “don't like don't read”, so be sure to curate your experience if there are any prompts you don't vibe with.
This is a low-pressure event—whether you fill one day or all of them, the aim is to have fun and be creative.
Cross-posting with other events is welcome, just be sure to satisfy the requirements for this event. 
You can share your work on any platform you like. If you make a post here on Tumblr or Twitter, tag us and we'll reblog it.
Reblogs are spread throughout the day, so don’t worry if yours isn’t up immediately. But if you think we missed it you can DM us.
In your post please include the following: 
Tag with #vfkinktober2024 and/or tag this blog @ vampirefest
Which Day/Prompt you have filled
Any relevant ratings to indicate if the fill is NSFW *Tumblr automatically suppresses any posts with explicit tags so we advise our creators not to tag NSFW if the post itself is not explicit but only links to the explicit version on another site (AO3, Twitter etc.)
Any relevant sensitive tags or trigger warnings—we want to take care of our little community, so please tag appropriately.
You can also add the characters or ship names.
Example of how reblogs will be tagged:
#vfkinktober2024 #day #[prompt being filled] #[type of content; fanart, fanfic etc.] #[trigger warnings that we get from your post] tw #[ship name or pairing]
AO3 Collection
The Vampire Fest AO3 collection will open on October 1st. You can find it here.
We’ll also keep the collection open after October 30th for any late submissions.
How to add your works to the AO3 collection:
Go to [Edit Work] on AO3 and type VFkinktober2024 in the [Post to Collections / Challenges] box that is located below [Summary] and [Notes] and it should pop up in the suggestions.
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pamsimmer · 8 months
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LUNAR PHASES CHALLENGE
My very first challenge and I'm excited? haha
When I was looking for occults challenge to play I found a lot of witches and vampire type of things, but I don't quite remember seeing a werewolf one.
These three occults are my favorites (unfortunately I kind of ignore the others because you know... meh, not as fun to play with them. But maybe one day I'll try to make a mermaid challenge)
Down here you're gonna find the rules and guidelines for each gen. You don't have to follow strictly the rules if you don't want to, I know it can be annoying sometimes. And also I made it short for those who prefer shorter challenges (like me).
I just hope you have fun!
[edit: a friend made the graphic rules and it looks amazing. if you prefer it like this: HERE]
Rules:
You must reside only in the occults’s worlds, but preferably in Moonwood Mill (You can always kick your family out and pretend you’re living in another place hehe)
Start as YA, any gender
You can use cheats if you want.
Heir must be a werewolf
Normal or Long Lifespan
You don’t have to max all these skills, but it would be nice if you at least worked on them all your sims lives
When I put ( / ) is because you can choose what you prefer or if you don’t have said pack you can choose the base game one.
Requirements: Werewolves, Snowy Scape, Get Together, Get To Work
GENERATION 1: Waxing Crescent
You grew up close to the Moonwood Collective, they are basically your family and you learned how to be a good sim and not hurt others. You prefer to lock yourself up than to behave like an animal in front of others. You always loved art/writing and your hobby is to play piano. You don’t like the spotlight because of your werewolf tendencies, so you chose a more “reclusive” career.
Traits: Proper/Snob, Bookworm, Good
Aspiration: The Emissary of the Collective
Skills: Charisma, Piano/Painting, Writing
Career: Painter or Writer (It can be the freelance career if you prefer)
Volunteer with family (or alone) at least once a week
Your partner can be any gender, can be human or even another type of occult, as long as the heir is a werewof.
Get married to your partner and never divorce. You two were made for each other
GENERATION 2: Waning Gibbous
Your parents wanted you to be as perfect as they are, but you’re not them. You have your own personality and your own desires. You’re a rebel. You love being a werewolf and you feel powerful when you show others who you are. The only thing you got from your parent was the love for music, but you are more of a guitar type of sim. And you want to be the leader of your own pack.
Traits: Mean, Active, Kleptomaniac
Aspiration: Wildfang Renegade
Skills: Mischief, Fitness, Guitar
Career: Criminal or perform only odd jobs and have a part time job
Meet your friends at the bar every weekend
Have a “fight club” club
Get pregnant/get your girlfriend pregnant as a teen (if your sim is a boy: don’t assume the responsability / if your sim is a girl: give the baby to someone else. you can keep the child close to you if you want to play with them later, in case it’s a werewolf)
Get married as a Young Adult and divorce before become an Adult. You can find love again, but if you don’t, that’s okay. (preferably die alone :)
One day your sims is gonna teach their teen kid (the heir) how to fight. You’re take them to Greg and let them fight Greg… alone.
GENERATION 3: Full Moon
You never got along with your parent. You actually hate them. You prefer to be alone, you’re like a hurt puppy that attacks others who tries to come closer to you. But you’re very sweet on the inside. And finally one day you find the love of your life and you have a beautiful family together.
Traits: Loner, Gloomy, Hot-Headed
Aspiration: Lone Wolf
Skills: Gardening, Handiness, Fishing
Career: Gardner or Fisherman (and perform odd jobs)
If you chose gardner: go fishing every weekend, if you chose fisherman: have a garden
Live off the grid, at least until you get married (after that you can go back to society again if you want to. But it’s not mandatory)
Have at least two kids
GENERATION 4: New Moon
You grew up in a loving family. You have so many plans for your life, but you don’t want to be a werewolf forever. You spent your teenager years reading werewolf books and you got the Lunar Epiphany and learned how to make the cure. Maybe you’re the one who breaks the family’s curse, right? and you want to be a super parent because your own parent inspired you.
Traits: Genius, Family-Oriented, Loyal
Aspiration: Cure Seeker
Skills: Logic, Parenting, Baking/Gourmet Cooking
Career: Doctor/Astrounaut
Find love when you are already a human and be the best parent you can be!
Go out on dates at least once a week with your partner, and when you have a child go out at least once a week with your family.
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