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miss-spookhead · 1 month

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thinking about a Blast From the Past steddie au tonight. like, think about it for a second--steve as the sweet, well-meaning himbo raised in a fallout shelter and eddie as the cynic who shows him the world as it is:

The year was 1962, and an atomic bomb had just dropped on top of the Harrington household.

Okay, not really. It was actually a fighter jet that suffered a mechanical failure just above the little plot of land the Harringtons called their home, but Walter Harrington took it differently. Far differently.

See, the thing was that the man was living in a state of paranoid delusion over the Cold War--terrified of the possibility of an outright nuclear holocaust over the Cuban Missile Crisis and the Soviet Union. He had been carefully building a fallout shelter under his home for his wife and possible children to live in with the works--canned food, running water, and even a working television.

And one day they went in and simply never left. The explosion right when they closed the door was tangible proof that the nuclear war was happening right above them.

A few years later, around 1968, a baby boy was born in a fallout shelter with no one but his mom and dad to keep him company.

They raised Steve the best they could, even if Walter Harrington was a mad genius and Madeline Harrington was a borderline alcoholic. Even if the boy was living in a perfect little time capsule of the fifties and early sixties. Walter made sure to educate him right and teach him how to be a sociable gentleman--even if he had no idea what swear words or the concept of sex were. That was for another time. Although, twenty-four years came and went for Steve Harrington, his father still owes him 'another time'.

Steve Harrington grows twenty-four years in perfect seclusion, but that changes at the flick of a switch.

The year is 1992: supplies are dwindling Walter is growing sick, and Steve is tasked to bravely set foot in the nuclear fallout to retrieve more material. (The only reason why Walter assumes they can even get more stuff is because he observed the outside world when the shelter unlocked and mistook it as a post-apocalyptic mutant society.)

The moment Steve made it outside his little bubble, he was utterly fascinated by the world--how different the people were outside of his television and his little books, how bright the sky was outside, how the irritable man on the bus wouldn't accept the money he tried to give him, how the bus moved and didn't fling him right off his seat.

(He even saw an adult bookstore. Dad told him that those things were filled with poisonous gas. How were they even to operate if they were filled with poisonous gas? That's dangerous and totally inconsiderate of the general public's safety.)

Anyway, he tries to follow the grocery list that Mom and Dad gave him the best he can, stocking up on poultry and tissue paper and the works. But by the end of the day, he doesn't know where he came from. Not a single sign or building or person can give him a single clue where to go.

After a few hours of wandering, suitcase in hand, he comes across a store with WE BUY BASEBALL CARDS written on the window.

Golly, Steve loves baseball cards--could look at Dad's collection for hours, and with the collection he has, he could make a pretty penny selling them for supplies. Despite the little hobby store being beside an adult bookstore with poisonous gas, he scampers right in.

"I see you're looking to buy baseball cards," he says breezily to the gruff, scary-looking man behind the counter.

"That I am," he replies.

Steve pulls a few from his jacket's inner pocket. "Well, these are a bit old, you see, but I was hoping you still might be interested."

The gruff man yanks them from his hands, a spark in his eye. He looks delighted to see them, and it fills Steve with an excitement he hadn't felt at all today. Nobody has been this happy over something he's done today. "Woah," he gasps, then covers it with a cough. "Mickey Mantle rookie season...how much do you want?"

"I was hoping to sell all of my cards, actually!"

The man sputters incredulously. "All of 'em? Are you fucking with me?"

"I'm not sure what that means, but all I have are hundred-dollar bills and I need something smaller. Like, uh...ones, tens, fives..."

"Tell you what, I'll give you five hundred in small bills for all you got."

Steve smiles brightly. "Oh, that would be wonderful, sir--"

"Five hundred for a case-full of rookie season Mickey Mantles, Rick, are you fucking joking?" A deep voice cuts through Steve's thanks from the other side of the small store. He turns around to find a man leaning against a magazine rack, arms folded sternly.

The man is unlike Steve's ever seen before. Long, long limbs and big brown eyes that look traced with black and smudged around the edges. Pretty lips, too almost girl-ish, in the way they were big and plush like the women he'd see on the television. The strangest thing about him, though, was the curly hair that tumbled past his shoulders.

He looked mad, though. Madder than mad.

"Tell the poor guy you're fucking with him," long-hair-pretty-lips says to the man behind the counter, who bristles.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn, Munson? Who told you to interrupt on business?" Rick counters. Steve was really not appreciating the amount of f-words dropped in the conversation, it was uncouth.

"Sure I was!" Munson saunters towards the counter and Steve's eyes follow him like a moth to a light. "But my morals go past your business practices at this point. You remember the ninth commandment, yeah?"

"You shut your Goddamn mouth--"

"Excuse me sir, but I really don't appreciate how you're using the Lord's name in vain like that," Steve says firmly.

"See?" Munson smiles. It's like sunlight. "He gets it."

He plucks the baseball card from Rick's hand and holds it over his head when he tries to reach for it again. "See this little thing?" He says to Steve sweetly. "This guy costs six grand alone."

"Get out of town! Really?"

"Oh yeah, big guy. Selling the thing would give you a small fortune, and Rick over here is trying to con you out of it."

Steve frowns. "Is that true?" He asks Rick.

"Nothing but," Munson says in place of him. He slips the card back into Steve's hands and gives them a pat.

"The Hell is even keeping you here, Munson?" Rick sneers. "Did the gig you won't shut up about fall through like they usually do? Better to bum it out here than in your shithole apartment? Stop loitering in my damn store and make like a fucking tree. You're banned."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Munson says rolling his eyes. He looks at Steve, then the door, gesturing at it with a flick of his head. "I'll see you out, Beaver."

He walks them both out the door, stopping to gesture at Rick strangely--hands balled into fists with only his middle fingers up--before stepping outside onto the sidewalk.

"Well merci, Monsieur," Steve says appreciatively, because Dad taught him French was always to be used on such occasions.

"What, you're French?"

"Oh no, I'm"--he thinks back to what Dad told him if a mutant asks where he's from. Gosh, he thinks he's supposed to be--"out on business."

"And you don't even have a clue about the little business trick that Rick tried to pull?"

"No...no, I--"

"Yeah, doesn't matter." Munson shrugs. He smiles sympathetically at Steve before turning on his heel and walking off. Oh boy, what would he do without him?

He follows him like a lost puppy, that's what.

"...You going the same way?" Munson asks incredulously. Steve shakes his head.

"Well, I'm following you."

Munson stops in his tracks, blinking, and Steve almost runs into him in his state. "Me?"

"Well yes! Where are we going?"

"We?" Munson asserts. "I'm going back to my shithole apartment, and judging by that jacket you're wearing, you should be taking the next left and hop-skipping straight to the barber college."

"Oh, I'm lost, though."

"Aren't we all?"

"Say, did you just get banned from that hobby store because of me?" Steve says to change the subject.

Munson sighs. "Seems like I did, sailor. The place was shitty anyways, with that dickhead running the operation. Wayne could get better cards from a different joint."

...dickhead? Steve's never heard that leave the seams of anyone's lips before. "Dickhead?"

"Yeah, he's a real fucking loser. A walking talking penis capable of human speech."

Steve gets queasy at the image he's concocted in his head. He leans against the nearest brick wall, his suitcase tumbling to the ground as he drops into a contemplative squat.

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"Well, the mental image that I..."

Munson's eyebrows scrunch before he reaches out a hand to Steve. He takes it, letting the man haul him upward. "Look, man, where'd you park your car?"

"I came by bus."

"Aren't you full of surprises."

"I am?"

"Okay look." Eddie raises his hands, palms splayed in the air. "It's your first time in Los Angeles, right? Everyone wants a taste of it, I know, and you're out for business and fucking famished. You got the opportunity to see the great big world outside of your little bubble and you got excited--but you took a bus and got mixed up in the middle of San Fernando Valley without a clue in the world. Am I correct?"

Steve listens in wonderment. So far, Munson's been correct in a way. He's convinced he might be psychic. He nods slowly and seriously just to see Munson flash that lighting-strike smile.

"Great, great. Which brings us to here. Correct again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Where are you staying?"

Nowhere, at the moment. Steve opens his mouth to say so, but Munson interrupts quickly. "Holiday Inn?"

"Yes, the Holiday Inn!" Steve says totally truthfully.

"Okay, cool. Cool." Munson claps his hands together with finality and starts walking. "The nearest bus station is a couple of blocks away if you take a right--"

"Don't you have a car?"

Munson stops in his tracks again. He turns to face Steve once again. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Something warm pools in Steve's gut at the pet name. Something about the way those pretty lips form that word sends blood rushing to his cheeks. "Steve," he says.

"Alright, Steve." Oh boy, his name sounds even better when Munson says it. "Rule number one in Los Angeles? Never let a stranger drive you anywhere."

"If it makes you feel any better," Steve says sweetly, "I don't have a gun."

Munson pales, then starts running.

"Hey!" Steve cries and makes haste to follow him. "I must've said something wrong, please forgive me!"

"Nope, nope--get the fuck away from me, man!"

He grabs Munson's wrist to pull him back, which is a bad move since the man starts writhing around in his grip. "I'm not going to hurt you, sir!"

Steve drops Munson's hand and raises his in surrender. "See?"

"...Just let me get to my car."

"I'll give you a Rogers Hornsby if you take me to my hotel," Steve reasons.

Munson stills. "...That's like four grand, don't bullshit me."

He pulls the card from his jacket and presents it as evidence. "See? I was holding it back." He wants Munson to feel safe. "I got two." He reaches for the other cards in his pockets and pulls them out. "And-and all these other ones, too!"

"Okay, okay. You'll give me four thousand dollars if I drive you to your place?"

"Uh-uh!"

"That's it?"

"Yep."

"And I don't have to give you a quickie in the backseat or anything?"

"Yes sir--wait, what?"

Munson blows past his question like it didn't even leave Steve's mouth. "Can you stop with the sir crap?"

"Well, I'm sorry, sir--"

"My name is Eddie."

Eddie...Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Wow, what a name. It's almost like something he's heard on the television.

"Why, it's nice to meet you, Eddie."

"Tolerable to meet you too, Steve."

Steve smiles shyly, then asks, "So are you a girl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well it's just your hair...it's so long." Steve points at his as an example. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Dude, it's 1992, every other guy looks like this--have you been living under a rock or something?"

Something like that. Steve shrugs.

"Well guys having long hair doesn't mean that they're girls, Steve, that's a given. It's not 1962 anymore." Eddie backtracks. "Well, I mean, dudes can have long hair and be chicks and chicks can be dudes too but that's not--"

"Oh, wow, my dad told me about one of those the last time he went here!"

"Oh that's fantastic, sweetheart," Eddie says, sugary-sweet. "But how about I drive you home?"

"That'd be a pleasure, Eddie."

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pa-pa-plasma · 5 months

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quite frankly i am shocked & disappointed with the Phandom for the lack a werewolf AUs. where is your fucking awoo

#Fic Writer With ADHD Politely Reminds World That Werewolf AU Fic Ready To Go Whenever (If They Remember To Post It)#y'all literally have an excuse to make a whole chaptered fic about Danny being a feral wild animal & are ignoring it. smfh #literally werewolf AU is so easy you literally just make everything the same except instead of ghosts it's werewolves #& yet. i've only ever seen like 3. 4 if i include my own #& they were all just concepts & drabbles!!! please i'm begging #Danny Phantom #maybe i will finish & post Black Dog as it is. maybe i'll wake up early one day take my adhd meds & just bang the rest out #it's been sitting around since like 2017 omg. i need to post this shit asap #it's over 60k btw. this shit is a novel #i'm even writing an original series based on it like this shit is one of my biggest projects. this shit is FOtPoD level #i NEED more i can't be the only one

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sheepkebby · 1 year

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hi it’s me again (i love your art/pos)

What do you think Dave and Paul look like???

I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED-

Dave absolutely listens to Party Rock Anthem and would have been a vine star if the green flu came a few years later. He also thinks HEYYEYAAEYAAAEYAEYAA is the peak of comedy.

Paul is definitely the least reckless of the bunch, making it his responsibility to be responsible since he's the oldest. Gets reeeaaal fed up with everyone's antics but he does care. A lot. Not great at showing it though. (But he does try) ((Kinda))

Bucky (Keith's second brother who's mentioned only once in Ellis' stories, doesn't have a canonical name so I named him Bucky) is an absolute bastard and he's proud of it. Definitely less reckless than Keith so he gets into way fewer accidents, but he's also way more mean. Definitely would kick the shit outta somebody for messing with his brothers.

#I have so many fuckin thoughts on the most INSIGNIFICANT CHARACTERS holy shit #I could go on for like an hour about Virgil too LMAO #I'm absolutely obsessed with Dave btw #party rockers in the HOUSE TONIGHT #gonna write a 60k word fic about Dave once I finish KvTW #/j #holy shit biggest /j ever i'm not strong enough LOLLLLLLL #l4d2 #left 4 dead 2 #left 4 dead #l4d2 dave #l4d2 paul #kebby asks #kebby rambles #my art #Dave #Paul #Bucky

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2knightt · 4 months

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could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #this fic had no reason to give me this much trouble to post #fuck tumblr and it’s stupid ass updates lmfao

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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Idk if this is too broad of a scope for this blog, but if you could answer this, it'd be great.

I've been in a writing rut since I started getting serious about writing, and I've identified the issue in the past month or so: I slant heavily on the gardener end of the writing spectrum and all the advice on writing I've ever seen was for architect-style writing. Not once in the eight years I've been serious about writing did I find any guides on gardener-style writing (and if it says it's gardener-style, it'sreally just architect-style with gardner aspects), and my experience has just been more or less jamming a square peg into a circle hole, getting nothing written and feeling bad about it.

Now I'm unlearning all the architect-style habits that are destructive to me as a writer, but I can't find any resources for gardeners aside from Stephen King's On Writing. If you or any of your followers know how to help a gardener's writing, that would be great. I have so many fic ideas I want to write, but can't since I'm learning to write all over again.

For those who don't know what gardener and architect refer to when it comes to writers, a gardener is a writer who starts with the seed of an idea and lets it grow in whatever direction the light shines. They prune it and weed it as they go but otherwise let the idea lead the way. An architect, on the other hand, plans their stories out first and then writes them. They have a structure and the details all mapped out first and then the writing is just executing on that vision.

As a gardener myself, my biggest piece of advice is to avoid writing advice. Like you've said, the majority of it is aimed at people who do things like plan and plot and worldbuild ahead of time. Because of the structure that that writing style enjoys, providing "one size fits most" writing advice works well for it.

I tend to find a lot of that advice to be counter to what I need to do. Planning a story out ahead just makes me feel like it's already written. Building out the world before I start writing it feels like a hollow exercise - more like writing an encyclopedia than developing a land and culture for my characters to inhabit.

What I find useful is taking an episodic approach to writing. The entire story will be like a season of a television show and each chapter is like one episode. I always have my eventual "season finale" end goal in mind, but any particular chapter can meander closer to or further from that goal. It's alright to take a circuitous route, as long as I get to my destination in the end.

It's also alright if my destination changes as I'm writing. Sometimes those meandering paths take me in a more interesting direction than I was originally going down, and that shifts the story. As long as you're vaguely following a three-act structure (or 5 act or 7 act), the flow of it will feel familiar to your readers and they probably won't really notice it happening.

This advice I'm giving might not ring true to you either. You didn't have a specific problem to address, so I've been wandering a bit in my reply. Really what it comes down to is paying attention to yourself and your needs. Figure out what it is that keeps you writing and what it is that makes you stop. Do more of the former and less of the latter - and don't worry if what you're doing is "weird" to someone else.

I write directly into the AO3 window (which AO3 specifically tells you NOT to do, btw) because drafting first in google docs or something takes the fun out of it for me. I post my chapters without previewing them first. I write in 800 to 1500 word sprints, and I focus on dialogue, and I almost always try to end on a joke or a pun or a cliffhanger. These are all things that make writing an activity that I want to do.

I can't really say anything much more specific given your ask, but I hope something in here was helpful. Let's see if any gardeners out there have some resources or advice that might work for you.

#asks and answers #long post

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tteokdoroki · 8 months

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ೀ⋆OCT 3RD MEAN GIRLS ━━ katsuki bakugou + free use !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. katsuki bakugou + free use. on october third, he asked you what day it was. btw, in girl world, halloween is the only time of the year when katsuki bakugou can slut girls out and no one can say anything about it. boo, you whore! (4.9K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, free use, dub-con, cum-play, voyeurism, humiliation, manipulation, dacryphilia, no prep, public sex(ish), unprotected sex, suprise guest appearance from shouto as aaron samuels, fem!reader, reigina george coded!bakugou.

୨୧ — director’s note. "it's october third." and you know what that means! another nasty kinktober fic for you all! i hope you enjoy this one, its probably my favourite...because uh hello!? reigina george and bakugou? name a more iconic duo! anyways enjoy mwah! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

halloween is the only time of the year where anyone can dress like a slut and not get called one for it.

in the world of the conventionally attractive (or the plastics), the kings and queens of the social jungle, it means ditching the guts and gore in favour of skin tight lingerie with a little fake blood that drips calculatedly through the valley between your breasts — just for a little bit of added attention. it’s the one night of the year where self-objectification becomes acceptable, and you by all means, were not planning on missing out.

for you, a well spent Halloween consisted of tooth rotting candy corn, bad movies and trying to avoid the feeling of fomo (fear of missing out, fyi) building up like fluid in the lungs of a sick person. you’ve been an a-grade loser all your life and you’ve never had the chance to experience a proper friend group, high school, (and now) college experience.

however this year would be different. this year you would be ditching loser-ville for boobs and bunny ears and the shortest dress you could find. because you finally had a friendship group who did these kinds of things and you had an invite to the biggest festive rager hosted by the hottest guy on campus — shouto todoroki.

the rest of your friend group, the college renowned plastics, had warned you not to get involved with the half and half campus jock. he already had relations to your beloved ring leader, katsuki bakugou, and your involvement would be breaking several laws of girl and guy code — according to dumb blonde kaminari (he swears he has ESPN or something). katsuki was the head of U.A. university, ruling over the entire student body with an iron fist, an attitude so mean you’re sure you’ve seen professors cry and a glare so sinister he could turn milk sour if he tried hard enough.

bakugou was the definition of the picture perfect guy and he knew it. it was almost as if his face had been ripped straight from a vogue magazine, his shoulders broad, waist slutty and tiny, abs to die for too — you’d be a liar to say you hadn’t thought about him a few times before bed. katsuki was a king bee (if bees could even have kings) and you were a nobody lucky enough to have been indoctrinated into his group of flawless friends — taken under the guidance of his wing.

your own friends had told you not to fall for the glitz and the glamour that seemed to follow the barbie blonde everywhere he went. but you couldn’t help it, you were enamoured by everything that katsuki did — turned a blind eye to his bitchy persona and twisted mindset. you hardly believed the rumours about him, blissfully ignoring the truth behind the gossip because katsuki was nice to you. just the other night he had been kind enough to offer his help in setting you up with shouto. even if kirishima had tattle told on you.

regardless, katsuki had your back — you knew that. he was even talking to shouto right now, admist the full swing of the halloween party. how could anyone ever hate bakugou? he was so kind, so considerate, treating you like family from the moment you got here. you see shouto look your way fondly as they chatter about you, his lips curling perfectly around your name while he sends you a wave that makes you feel like the only girl in the world.

“she likes you, yanno.” the shorter blonde purrs, the corner of his perfectly plump lips twitching up into a knowing grin. he says your name, glowering at the way his ex perks up at the mention.

shouto blinks slow, mismatched eyes filling with affection the longer he looks at you awkwardly swaying to music you’ve never heard before. “yeah? she does?”

“it’s adorable, really. she writes your fuckin’ name in the corner of her notes with little hearts. even has the name of your future brats written in a cute little list.” the lie slips from bakugou easily, as if manipulating people is second nature to him.

“don’t bother with that, katsuki.”

when todoroki’s gaze on you lingers for too long, he kicks it up a notch pressing the head of his body into his ex’s side. “listen, half ‘n half,” with his eyes dark and sensual, the blonde allows his voice to slip into deeper, more mocking tones — playing up this innocent act. one that shouto falls for every time. “i know that she can be a little fuckin’ weird but, she’s my friend…so be nice, yeah?”

men are such fickle creatures — for all it takes is a pair of sweltering, red puppy dog eyes to drag the jock under his spell. shouto nods slowly, his own topaz and granite eyes glossing over with some form of obedience, a loyalty to bakugou that no one else would understand. “yeah, alright.”

“good,” bakugou purrs, the sound causing his brain to short circuit. “such’a good friend, half ‘n half.” the tail end of his words are replaced by the sloppy sound effect of his lips on shouto’s, tongues beginning to clash and hands possessively gripping waists.

your rose-tinted window shatters at the sight.

background conversation falls away as your friend and your crush begin to make out right in front of your fucking eyes. “you know who’s looking fine tonight, neito monoma.” kaminari squeals, shimmying in his little mouse costume.

“denki, that’s your cousin.” kirishima frowns.

the blonde shrugs. “yeah! but he’s my first cousin…that’s not right is it,”

you don’t have time to dwell on their chit chat — you feel like someone has thrown your entire body out of whack. you feel like you’re drowning as the realisation hits, katsuki bakugou doesn’t give a shit about you or your feelings. storming away from the scene, you make for the nearest bedroom, hurt and confusion swirling around in the tightness of your chest.

“what are you doin’ in here sweetness? ‘minari and kirishima have been looking everywhere for ya.”

you’re still crying like a sore loser when the king of the plastics finds you hauled up in one of shouto’s many rooms. and you hate that it’s katsuki who’s come to comfort you, sitting beside you on the queen sized bed as his hand slips over your bare thigh.

but you shrug him off, barely keeping your cool. after all, you’re still mad at him for making out with your crush. “don’t touch me, katsuki.” you snarl, doing your best to sound menacing. “i saw what you did. how could you? i thought we were friends?”

he clicks his tongue, ruby red eyes rolling as if he gives a fuck. “oh, you mean that thing with icyhot?” you don’t understand how the blonde can be so nonchalant, tossing around the situation as if it weighs nothing — costing not an ounce of your feelings. “he came onto me, sweetness. i’d never do somethin’ like that to you.”

denying katsuki bakugou is never an easy feat, he’s a man that knows where his strengths lie. in the deep timber of his rumbling voice and those eyes, with the blood lust curled around each of his pupils. katsuki is a well trained hunter, and on this occasion, you are his prey. a large hand smooths over the meaty swell of your trembling thigh, pushing the likely pair wide open for him to make room between them. “i’m a good friend, r’member?”

his hands roam your blistering hot body, gripping and grabbing at your flesh from over your costume — it feels good, you feel wanted and melt like a lump of butter in a pan at every cascading touch of his.

you’d be smart to come to your senses, before you’re snapped up in the unrelenting jaws of a hunter. but you’re entranced by those insanely red eyes, the perfect slant to his lips and all-knowing smile — it’d be useless to escape when you’ve fallen this deep. “you’re not…” your bottom lip wobbles, the achy feeling in your chest now submissive to the liquid lust katsuki has spent months conditioning you to feel. “you’re a bad friend.”

“d’aw…you don’t think i am?” dropping his tone into a sultry coo, bakugou leans in real close and you instinctively follow the tilt of his head. he looms over you, just enough so that you can see the smear of pink eyeshadow across his eyelids, the plasticky glisten of lip gloss masking the true colour of his plump lips, along with the spark of lust swirling through the brown flecks in his eyes.

you shake your head no. “no, you’re not.” big mistake.

the of temperature of the room rises just from his proximity and you find yourself willing to let the king of the plastics swallow you whole. “i don’t think i like the way yer talkin’ to me, sweets.” he growls darkly and in warning. “i should make you apologise for bein’ so fuckin’ mean.”

his breath is warm and wet against your cheek, grip rough on your waist and you can’t help but think how mean he is to you. katsuki gaslights you like it’s second nature or another one of his five senses, manipulates you with ease, putting himself on you when you know you can’t say no. because without him you would have been in social suicide, you wouldn’t have any friends, you wouldn’t have had the college experience. you would have just been ordinary.

“gimme a kiss, gorgeous.” the blonde bites down on your lower tip, tugging it away from you because he misses the metallic taste of golden blood on you — the taste of blossoming obedience in your bloodstream.

you push back, but it’s no use — bakugou’s closing the gap before your brain can even catch up, fizzing like candied pop rocks while you sink further into debauchery.

“c’mon…” he forces his tongue past the seams of your lips, bursting through with only the darkest of intentions. you briefly seize up, because your body knows this isn’t what you want, at least not 100%. but katsuki knows how to work stubborn, prude little things like you — squeezing down on your waist heartily as he leads you into a stupid-drunk kiss. “that’s it, there we go…good fuckin’ girl.”

the world tilts on its axis and you grow lightheaded at the blonde’s praise — you should be mad at him for kissing your crush but at the same time, you’ve never wanted someone so bad. mewling against his watermelon and alcohol flavoured lips is like sealing your fate, giving up little pieces of yourself just to appease your ring leader.

“katsuki, i don’t—“

his thumb digs into your cheeks, preventing you from pulling away — not that you’d want to. wet sounds from your kisses vibrate through you and cause a twinge in the heartbeat between your thighs. “i wasn’t askin’, i was tellin’.” he grunts into your drooling mouth, wide open to echo your sweet and pliant voice. it’s with those words that you remember your place, being a plastic requires sacrifices — for you to give up pieces of yourself in order to stay by katsuki’s side.

including letting him use your mind, body and soul freely.

“so fuckin’ pretty when you’re obedient for me,” he’s snarls, hot under the collar and eager to steal more from you. he grins at how your eyes roll back just from a couple of half-hearted words. leaning back, katsuki shrugs off his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved hips and washboard abs, golden skin that only the gods could have blessed him with. the sight of him is enough to make your quivering cunt deep juices into the crotch of your panties. “let’s get back at sho, huh? for playin’ us both.”

the lines of morality and dissoluteness are often blurred when you’re with him — you become a vessel for his pleasure and you don’t even think to mind. somewhere amidst the messy, sensual lip locks bated breaths, katsuki has managed to get you onto your back and tear through your skimpy little halloween costume to suck his claim into your neck. painting you with deep mauve and midnight blue hues. his eyes dilate, roaring obsidian black taking over his mean, rage filled red eyes in a way that lets you know how bad he wants to fuck you.

it’s when the sharp edges of his canines graze your pulse point that you remember just how much of a wild jungle college is. you remember that katsuki has the ability to make your life a living hell, the power to take a bite and rip your throat out at any second. in this world, you are nothing but a meek gazelle and katsuki bakugou the lion ready for a feast.

irrespective of how much the very fact may frighten you, you ignore bakugou’s talons as they sink into your chest and leave indented crescent moons on against each breast. he rips apart the costume you worked so hard on and pushes your hands away from your body when you attempt to cover yourself up. so, from that moment, you let lust slither over your brain so you can arch yourself into him for more pleasure, and remind yourself that even if you're being used — it feels good. katsuki feels good.

you like that he’s a little mean, a mean girl. all teeth and tongue and biting when he licks into you and breaks the strings of honey saliva that tie your tongue to the roof of your mouth. you love how he roughly grabs you by the meat at your hips and tugs you up to meet the grind of his cock against your underwear. you adore how he pulls the very fabric apart like they’re nothing, rolling you onto your stomach and positioning your hips in a way that makes your back arch.

you don’t even realised that bakugou has kicked off the lower part of his costume until you feel the heat of his firm thighs against the backs of your own and the sticky tap of his flushed cockhead on your ass cheeks — smearing white globs of precum over your hot skin. the blonde groans at the visible twitch of your cunt, the way it glistens and spews lightly for him.

“oh sweetheart,” he laughs through the coagulated feeling of prurience in his throat. “so fuckin’ wet for me, hah?” he manages, spreading your ass cheeks apart hungrily, a curious finger running through your slick folds and dragging your wetness over your pulsating clit. “s’kinda embarrassing. barely even touched you.”

the situation is embarrassing, humiliating almost and a fresh set of tears burn at your waterline — mascaras already tracking down your cheeks. you don’t fight bakugou as a muscled arm snakes it’s way around your waist and pulls you onto him until your sex is flush against bakugou’s thick cock — your hearts beating in sync, heavy breathing in tune. his dripping dick slips and slides a through your quivering pussy lips, grinding against the pulse in your clit before easing the mushroomed tip through the tight ring at your entrance.

“f-fuck!” you squeak, a little out of turn. fuckdolls don’t talk. katsuki is quick to growl and remind you, collapsing his entire weight into your body while you take him with ease. no prep required whatsoever. there’s a delicious burn as his girth stretches you wide open and he fucks you with just the tip — a pleasing buzz layering itself over your logical thoughts. the ones that tell you this isn’t right. the ones that tell you that you’re more than just a plastic play thing.

bakugou squeezes your hips harshly when you push back onto him, desperate to be fed more of his cock. “keep fuckin’ still, alright?” the king of the plastics rasps, taunting you as he thrusts all the way into your tight heat with no warning. you ooze at the sudden stimulation, basking in the weight of his dick against the insides of your crying cunt and fluttering walls. “sho’s gonna love this, maybe he’ll really want you then.” he continues to purr, jamming a thumb past your swollen lips to press down on your tongue. his other hand grasps at his phone once lost in the sheets, talking a picture of your teary face while you suck on his digit to soothe yourself.

like a baby sucking on a pacifier as it cries.

sending the photo to shouto, bakugou takes a few more selfies of you like this. his favourite is the one of your face squished between his large fingers, covered in salty tears and sticky drool. “don’t cry sweets. ‘m gonna fix this, help you get together. what are friends for?”

his voice is soft, nose nudging against your cheek in a reassuring manner.

but it’s all too good to be true.

briefly, there’s a second where everything is calm, where the blonde lets you relax around him between gentle juts of his hips forward and affectionate kisses peppered against your skin. you should have realised that katsuki’s pleasure is always above your own. because he suddenly finds the motivation to pull out of your snug, sensual heat to pound into you properly, dragging is seedy cock along all of the spots along your ribbed walls that make you see stars.

you feel like a pocket pussy, only one that comes with crybaby wails and pitiful hiccuped noises. it’s all music to katsuki’s ears, blending seamlessly with the intense base from the party’s music and thump of the headboard smashing against the wall all from the sheer force of his thrusts into you. it’s easy to forget how humiliatingly loud you’re being, you can’t find yourself to be worried about someone catching you either. even if the door is wide open.

why not? because katsuki claims you willingly, over and over again with each brutish brush of his leaky cockhead against your g-spot. “s-suki! please.” you slur around his fingers that fuck your drooling mouth in perfect rhythm with his dick that plunged in and out of your puckered, creamy hole.

“yeah, yeah. i gotcha. give into me, sweetness.”

where he had been keeping you pinned against the sex-soaked cheeks — bakugou pulls his sweaty chest away from your back and adjusts the roll of his hips, letting them crash into you like waves on a shoreline. to support his body weight above you, his toned arms cage you in, head tilted to the side to watch you sniffle on his dick, red rimming your watery eyeline. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cry, sweetheart.” he moans condescendingly against the shell of your ear, painting a chaste kiss against your wet cheek. “what a pretty fuckin’ girl, suckin’ me in… takin’ my cock. oh fuck.”

if you could see him, will yourself from the pillows you take purchase in and use to muffle your salacious screams — you would notice how an evil smirk as spread across the blonde’s lips while he ravages you, fucks you beyond the stars and back. “you my pretty girl, yeah? fuckin’ sweet thing.” the praise has you spiralling and simultaneously soothes the burning hatred you have for katsuki in your chest. “why you cryin’ so much? is it over him, or over me?”

the answer to his question slips out of you faster than your sex-crazed brain can catch up. “o-over you!” it’s like you can’t even think for yourself, make any choices for your body outside of what bakugou has planned for you. you’d do anything to please him so that he keeps fucking you, so that you can forget your feelings and keep your place amongst the socially elite. maybe that makes you selfish, maybe it makes you dumb — that you’re a whore for katsuki’s bully cock that churns up your guts and uses you for ecstasy filled relief.

“y-yeah? mmhm, just like that baby,” katsuki stutters, licking his lips while you throw it back on him. the weak snap of his voice (caused by you clenching down on him) has you gushing nastily down bakugou’s length. bathing him in your juices, dripping down his balls as they clap against your ass, and swing against your clit.

“yeah…yeah…y-you’re my friend, k-katsuki! didn’t wanna lose you…”

satisfied with your response and feeling a little mean once more, the king of the plastics brings a heavy hand down against your ass before gripping it tight, forcing you back and forth on his creamed dick. you hiss at the newfound pain blooming underneath your skin, blinking back more tears.

“that’s right sweets, you’ll let me do anythin’ to keep me right? stay bein’ friends.” bakugou barks salaciously into your shoulder blade. greed and power and control sparks between your bodies that move in sync with one another, your hips shakily attempting to catch up with his rough pace.

you gasp when he hits a spot that’s got you howling at the moon. “y-yes, god, yes!”

“even let me fuck your crush? let me fuck you in front’a him?”

all you can do is nod and gargle in response, passionately sucking on his fingers. “get ‘em nice and wet for me. wanna play with you, gorgeous.” he nips at your skin, leaving the imprint of his canines against you before his red eyes laser focus on where your bodies continually meet. “lift your hips. atta girl.”

a heinous squeal escapes you, borderline pornographic as katsuki fumbles between your body and shouto’s high thread count sheets. his sticky fingers press into your pleasure nub in tight, calculated circles and he rewards the sound of your choked moans with another barrage of love bites to your neck. ones that you won’t be able to cover up. ones that show how much you’ve been used.

you wonder if his appetite for your dedication will ever be satisfied. even though your pussy works it’s way back onto him and swallows his cock down like fucking magic — bakugou still wants more of you. he grins sinisterly at the bruises that form just under your skin, that make you hiss when he licks over them and spills his curse words over against that sensitive spot underneath your ear. the sensitivity makes you yelp loudly, despite the people that walk by.

including none other than shouto todoroki.

“you’d even let him watch as i creamed your cute cunt, wouldn’t ya? so pathetic. it’s adorable, sweetness.” the blonde goads, pulling back so that he can get a better view of your ass bouncing against his slender hips. spreading you apart with large hands, he drools down onto his cock and your asshole, spitting onto the point at which his shaft slips inside of you — watching the white froth mix in with your viscous nectar and disappear into the creaminess of your tight hole.

your crush audibly gasps as he enters the room — mismatched eyes drinking in the view of you being absolutely wrecked from behind by his ex. shouto can’t help but admire your puffy face and equally puffy folds while he settles on the bed next to katsuki. he has no idea how his feet even carried him there.

“bakugou what are you—?”

the tail end of shouto’s words slip away when you clench down hard on bakugou, his head falling onto the latter’s shoulder while you share shaky moans. “oh my god,” katsuki pants, pulsing against your silken walls and driving his dick upwards into your sweltering mound. “you’re fuckin’ obsessed with me. with him. you just won’t let this dick go, will ya?”

admitting that you like shouto watching you get fucked by bakugou would be just as embarrassing as admitting your crush on him. it doesn’t matter if you’re crying too hard to confess the matter with words, both of them know it. they can tell by the way your pussy spasms around katsuki’s bulbous cockhead as it bullies it’s way into you with every thrust. “see icyhot, told ya she was a weirdo,” He chuckles down at you menacingly. “letting me be the one t’stretch her pussy open even though you’re the one that she wants. s’so embarrassing.”

todoroki let’s out a noncommittal grunt, equally amused by the situation like his ex. “yeah… so weird…”

he reaches around to grab at the fat of your waist and tugs you back onto katsuki so that his dick never leaves you. so that your clit is smooshed up against perfect abs, that contract with every thrust and overstimulate you.

maybe it’s not such a bad thing to be used by the king of the plastics, if it means shouto gets to touch you too.

“i think she’s about to cum, katsuki.” the two-toned haired jock states as if it’s obvious, his voice husky and low as the scent of sex trickles into the air. “you’re gonna make her cum, baby.”

“can fuckin’ feel it, she’s ‘boutta make a mess of me.” they share a lustful look behind you, that leads to them sharing sloppy, uncoordinated kisses as if you’re not even there. truly treating you like a sex toy to be used whenever, wherever.

the sounds of their kisses ring in your ears, cause heat to burn at your cheeks and shame to settle in your chest once again. but this time, you don’t fucking care — not when you’re close to cumming, not when both of the people you adore in your life are using little old you.

forcing you back and forth over katsuki’s dick even faster, shouto finds it in himself to address you, moaning out your name. “a-are you close?” he simpers, tongue rolling over his ex’s.

“i— i am. p-please. let me cum. lemme cum. lemme c-cum—!” you chant as if it’s the gospel, voice tapering off into a set of whistle tone simpers as you finally hit your high. black spots dot your vision, katsuki using a last burst of energy to canter into you, slamming against your g-spot over and over again. the dam breaks before your brain can register it, release trickling out of your fluttering hole like a flash flood after a vicious storm. it soaks his soft tuft of blonde pubes and soils the sheets below, your body wracked with shakes and aftershocks.

katsuki's cock against your cervix being the epicentre.

the two men behind you share a sick little laugh when you collapse into the sheets face first, both of them leaning down to kiss either of your cheeks soothingly.

“so fuckin’ cute ‘n loyal,” bakugou coos in a twisted tone, pulling out of you to jerk himself off over your quivering body.

shouto smiles and rubs soothing circles in the small of your back in an attempt to calm you down — taking pleasure in your tiny sniffles and hiccups while you come down from your high.

“your turn, bakugou.” he purrs slightly, using his arm to prop himself up on the bed for a perfect view of you both.

“mmfuck, shit ‘m so close.” colourful curses spew from between bakugou’s perfect, cherry bitten lips just as he hits his peak. slick sounds accompany the movements of his rough palm up and down his length, coaxing himself towards orgasm. he cums with a shout, a feral growl tearing his chest in two with how loud it is. all while ropes of his blistering hot and white cum land on your ass, pussy and back.

he collapses next to shouto after that.

you feel a finger drag through the hot mess on your back and turn around just in time to watch bakugou feed a scoop of his cum to your crush. todoroki sucking his fingers happily. “go get her a towel, icyhot.” he demands, and like a slave to the crown, todoroki follows — disappearing from the room in search for a rag to clean you up with. surprisingly, the blonde helps you to sit up, taking you into his chest so you can snuggle against it. “don’t cry sweetness, s’okay. i forgive you for thinkin’ i was a bad friend.”

tilting your chin up, you’re rewarded with a firm chaste kiss — swallowing katsuki’s moans as he tastes the saltine tears in your lips. “you’ll never do it again, right?”

“r-right…” you reply meekly, flinching at the blonde who boops your nose almost affectionately.

he busies himself with fixing your costume until shouto returns with a wet rag to wipe the cum from between your thighs and the rest of you. you try not to let it get to you when they share another passionate kiss, sucking on each other’s tongues and mussing up each other’s hair until they’re all rosy cheeked and short of breath.

you would be a fool to think that you ever stood a chance with shouto todoroki after tonight.

much like you, he’s just another piece in katsuki’s game of chess. he’ll never escape the toxic cycle of their relationship when things keep going like this.

“you look sexy with your hair pushed back, icyhot.” katsuki says to shouto once they come up for air, ruffling his silky locks out of place. his ruby, crazed, gaze slinks over to you next, a coy smirk playing at his lips. “sweetness, tell him, icyhot he looks sexy with his hair pushed back.”

katsuki bakugou is terrible. evil. conniving. but he’s all you’ve got, even if he is a mean girl.

“shouto…you look sexy with your hair pushed back.”

2K notes · View notes

seeingivy · 5 months

Text

french toast

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: enabled by @babiemay thank her for giving me the BIGGEST best friends older brother sukuna brain rot i've ever had in my life. (ooc sukuna again btw)

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

based on the seventeen years that sukuna has known you, he figures that you’ve already worked up some type of overthinking storm in your head when you arrive at his apartment two days later. and he knows for a fact that he’s right, because you’re at his doorstep with a pinched look on your face, clutching your purse like you’re about to get robbed.

“hi pretty girl. did someone make an attempt on your life today?”

you can feel your cheeks burning at the term of endearment, so phased you can barely coherently respond - or understand - what it is he said.

“no?” you respond, nearly sweating under his eye contact as he smiles.

“then why are you looking at me like you think i’m going to eat you?” he asks, annoyed as he gestures for you to walk into the kitchen.

you feel your head run in a spiral, at the implication of his words, as he places his hands flat on your shoulders, and guides you to sit at the stool on his little kitchen island. the entire ordeal - the breakfast, the fact that he’s peeling off your coat and pressing a kiss to your temple, and the lingering touches - they make your skin burn, almost itch with nervousness.

he stands on the other side of the counter, leaning forward on his forearms, as he smiles at you. and you try your best to figure out what exactly it is that’s beaming in his eyes as he leans forward.

“pick your poison.”

you feel yourself pale.

“huh?”

he frowns, as he leans back.

“for breakfast? what did you want to eat?” he clarifies.

you breathe a sigh of relief.

“anything’s okay. don’t trouble yourself. i-i can even help.”

you walk over to his side, pulling up your sleeves and giving him a peachy smile, as he takes the opportunity to step towards you. your back hits the counter and sukuna makes it a point - resting both of his arms at your sides - as he traps you within his hold.

“talk.” he states, almost sternly.

“hm?”

sukuna leans closer, leaning his forehead against yours, as he takes a deep breath. it reminds you vividly, of two nights ago, when he pulled you straight onto his lap. and murmured into your skin that you were his pretty girl. and that he was going to prove it to you.

“talk.” he states, the tone in his voice irritated.

you look up at him, at his eyes razor focused in on yours, and spot no inclination of irritation on his face. despite the fact that you were almost positive that it was dripping from his tone. though, you always found him particularly hard to read.

“now.” he murmurs.

you sigh.

“what are you trying to do right now?” you ask.

he rolls his eyes. there’s the irritation you were hearing.

“make you breakfast.” he deadpans.

“is that all?”

“what are you getting at?” he asks.

sukuna often finds that talking to you is like digging a hole. that it takes patience. because he’s not going to find what he’s looking for forthright. but he knows for a fact that there’s something down there.

it’s aggravating. but he persists.

“promise you won’t make fun?” you ask.

“i will do no such thing.”

“sukuna.” you whine, crossing your hands against your chest.

sukuna finds this part of you endearing. because it reminds him of all the different ways he’s seen you. when you were four and barging into his house to play wii with his little brother, explaining barbie movies at the dinner table, and tagging along on his family vacation when he was fourteen.

and how after all this time, you still have the same tendencies. you bounce your right leg when you’re nervous, tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re finished rambling, and curl your hands into little fists and cross your arms - entirely unable to meet his eyes - when you’re embarrassed.

sukuna clears his throat, as you look up at him. and you know the expression all too well. that he’ll wait all day if he has to.

“no making fun. i’m serious, sukuna.”

“it’s almost like you know you’re going to say something stupid.”

“don’t call my feelings stupid.” you murmur.

“well, i’ll keep calling them stupid until you tell me what they are. i’ll be honest if you let me.”

this is something you can appreciate about sukuna. that he won’t beat around the bush. or say things just to coddle. it’s the same as the other night, where you told him about what happened at the bar, when he didn’t rush to your defense like almost everyone else does. and when it comes to this, you figure that he’ll be straightforward.

“are you trying to have sex with me right now?” you ask.

you look at sukuna, specifically at the way his eyes widen, before he breaks out into a laugh. and not just any laugh, because he’s nearly keeling over with how amusing he finds it. howling even. and it makes even more blood rush to your cheeks, humiliated for even bringing it up.

sukuna grins, lifting his hands up from the sides of the counter and wrapping them around your neck.you can feel your breath hitch in your throat, as you instinctively shut your eyes. he’s going to be straightforward.

“your feelings are stupid.” he whispers, right into your skin.

you pull back, staring at him dumbfounded, as he places one of his hands on your waist. and he’s staring back at you, the expression in his face slightly amused.

“that’s not nice.”

“i’m not a nice person.”

it’s frustrating. the tone that he uses with you. it teeters between placating and teasing you and you find it hard to decide which one exactly it is. and it seeps right under your skin, lets your irritation come to a head faster than it usually would.

“okay, well. sue me! you had no problems doing god knows what in my room the other day. and-and then you were making jokes about how you were going to eat me. the second that i got here. and-and you know how you are-”

“and what’s that?”

you pause.

“what?”

“you said you know how you are. well, i don’t. enlighten me please.” he clarifies.

sukuna’s pleased with himself. because he’s figured out exactly what it is, that’s brewing in that head of yours. and naturally, he has every intention to make you mince your words.

“you-”

you’re not sure how to say this. if there’s a polite way to call him what he is.

“i’m what? a manwhore?” he asks.

“no! you-”

“you think i’m a horny freak, right? that i want to lift you up, take your skirt off, and have you right here on my kitchen counter?”

you feel your eyes go wide, as you swallow hard, and feel the nervousness take residence in your stomach. sukuna senses it fast enough and makes his efforts to diffuse it.

“do you think i would only invite you here because i want you to please me? do you think that’s the only way i can enjoy your company?”

you can feel yourself getting too overstimulated, your head nearly steaming - at the implication, at the way he’s looking at you, and the fact that his lips are a few feet away from yours - and his smug grin crawling underneath your skin and making you twitch.

you cover your face with your hands, feeling the warmth on your palms, as you feel his hands curl around your wrists, prying them off of your face. and when you look up at him, at the soft smile on his face, as you can’t help but frown at him.

“no…”

sukuna smiles.

“are you lying to me?”

you deflate.

“maybe a little.”

sukuna secures his hands around your waist, before fully lifting you up and placing you on the counter. and he presses a lingering kiss to your cheek before he wordlessly starts rummaging through different cabinets in his kitchen and the fridge, fully intent on making you the breakfast you were promised.

you can’t help but watch him, as he muses around his kitchen, slicing vegetables on the cutting board and fruits on the side. at how he entirely discards the conversation you just had like it was nothing.

from two feet away, sukuna is very, very appreciative of you. because you’re not very proud. and despite your first attempts, you’re honest too. because he knows for a fact that your hesitation to state your thoughts is because you don’t want to write sukuna off as something so…lewd. even if you think it’s true. and that of course, any hesitation on your part comes from something deeper than him.

the deep seated distaste you seem to have for yourself. though sukuna’s entirely unsure why it’s there in the first place. he slices a strawberry in half, letting the eggs cook at his side, before he makes a residence standing in between your legs.

he hands you one of the halves of the strawberry, before popping the other in his mouth and leaning into your space.

“i don’t think you’re a manwhore.” you clarify.

“okay. i don’t think you’re one either.” he responds.

you smile.

“but you do think that’s the only reason you’re here?” he pokes.

“no! no, i don’t think that. i just-”

you sigh, placing your hands flat on the fabric of his hoodie, as you crumple it into your fists.

“sorry. i’m not very good at this type of thing. and-and you’re like…you know. reputation. and you obviously have needs! and megumi thinks you’re a womanizer.”

sukuna snickers, as you release his hoodie, and you deflate slightly. mainly at the fact that he’s not offended. and letting you ramble - and say ten different things you shouldn’t - openly.

sukuna doesn’t shy away from what exactly it is that you think of him. or what that godawful sea urchin megumi thinks either. because it’s naturally, quite simple. and somewhat true. because he finds it hard to stay in one place for a long time. and as you very keenly put it, he had needs.

though, that rule, as sukuna was painstakingly reminded of, didn’t apply to you. because again, you transcended any normal guideline that sukuna had. which is why he was keen on making you breakfast two days later, on his day off. and make your favorite, which he specifically remembers from the camping trip.

“i’m not sure what thing you’re referencing. and make no mistake. i don’t talk in tongues like you do. if i invite you over for breakfast, it’s because i want to eat breakfast with you.” he responds.

“you were the one who said you were going to eat me.” you defend.

“you were looking at me like you were scared of me. like how prey looks at a predator before it gets eaten?”

“oh.”

sukuna pushes off the counter as he starts plating the food onto and feels his ego inflate when you jump off the counter and cling to his arm when you realize what exactly it is that he made.

“sukuna. i love french toast!”

“yes. i’m well aware.”

"how'd you know?" you ask.

sukuna looks over at you, the look in his eyes so devious, that you know you've certainly walked into something by stating it.

"you told us. on the camping trip. you've always been my pretty girl. even when you were fourteen."

you barely have time to even stomach what it is that he said as he lifts both plates as he makes a gesture for you to follow, seating the two of you back on his kitchen island. and when you settle in, sukuna gets to pick at your mind, with the questions that have been stuck in his head for the past two days.

“before i divulge my manwhore adventures for you, you have to indulge me first. how many guys have you dated? or talked to?” sukuna asks.

you hate sukuna’s choice of words sometimes. indulge. it’s almost like he knows he’s saying words that make you nervous. that make the sweat accumulate on the palms of your hands.

“where’d you learn how to make french toast like this?” you ask, deflecting.

“i asked first.”

you swirl the eggs around on the plate - moving them from the left, to the right, and back to the left - before you answer.

“i had a crush on this guy named dean from sixth grade to eighth grade. all of the boys in school got dared to slow dance with different girls and he picked me. it was an awkward four minutes of halo by beyonce but i loved him after that. he was funny. and cute.”

“did you date?” he asks.

“oh, of course not. he started liking this girl named kimi in eighth grade.”

sukuna’s not exactly sure if this is the question he asked. but you keep going. and it’s intriguing to him nonetheless.

“in my sophomore year of highschool, i had a crush on this guy named parker. he was kind of nerdy, like the stupid type? my english teacher would always put us in group projects together, and when i asked him why, he said it was because he wanted us to get married.”

“that’s an appropriate thing to say to a fifteen year old.” sukuna bites.

“no! my teacher had this dream to go to two of his students weddings, that met in his class.”

“and what killed that extremely inapprorpiate dream, dead in its tracks?”

“my best friend. we all somehow ended up in the same friends group our junior year. and they kind of started flirting. dated all the way till our freshman year of college.” you respond.

sukuna curbs the question that comes to the forefront of his mind. because it occurs to him that his plausible answer to it, one that he despises, is exactly what’s going to be the answer. that if they liked each other, you were going to let them. despite the fact that you liked him first.

“any more for me?” sukuna asks.

“my first boyfriend was in my senior year of highschool.”

sukuna feigns shock, as you fight the urge to laugh.

“have we finally arrived to a real boyfriend?”

you laugh, as you settle your hand into his underneath the table. there’s something so inviting about him, the way he’s hanging off the ends of your words and listening intently, that makes you continue.

“we don’t speak his name.” you state.

“oh?”

“he’s not a good guy. we dated until….my freshman year of college. december. and we officially stopped talking the summer of my sophomore year.” you state.

sukuna bites the urge to ask every question in his mind. on who this guy is, why you continued to talk to him almost an entire year after, and most importantly, why you haven’t talked to anyone else since.

except for him anyways. for the first time, sukuna finds himself being the exception. in a way that’s favorable to him.

“that’s all of them! your turn.”

sukuna smiles.

“that’s all?”

“mhm! it’s kind of boring, i’m assuming. in comparison to you.”

sukuna concludes one thing. that all three of these men, especially the last, were not deserving of you. in the slightest. and that each one had wrecked a sizeable amount of havoc. he curses himself for not paying attention when he was still there.

“oh definitely. you’d need to stay here all day if you wanted to here that.”

you smile brightly.

“that can be arranged.” you respond.

sukuna leans forward, lips a few feet away from yours, before he speaks again.

“you like to play hard to get, don’t you?” sukuna asks.

“what? what do you mean?”

sukuna places his hands on the rung of your chair, before pulling it flesh with his own. and he tests the waters, by placing his hand on your bare knee, right near the pleats of your black skirt. and he feels you instinctively press your legs together, but make no moves to push him off.

“i didn’t make the list?”

you swallow hard, entirely embarrassed. though, your first real crush you supposed is naturally the one that you’ve denied, vehemently, since you were four years old and yuuji asked you in passing.

because when your eyes lingered on him for too long, after he fixed the wii controls and dutifully handed you both your controllers back - of his wii, that he was letting you play on - yuuji halfmindedly asked the question.

why are you looking at him like that? do you like him or something?

it was a joke, of course. because yuuji just asked so he could start the match of wii tennis while you weren’t paying attention. that in the rush of it, you never got to consider the answer to it in full. though you suppose there’s no better time to answer it than now.

“i have this best friend. his name is yuuji.” you start.

sukuna’s alarmed. so alarmed that he pulls his hand off of your thigh, retreating it behind his back.

surely you didn’t really like yuuji. because that would stop whatever it was that was blooming right now. because he was not his brother, despite their identical pink hair. the farthest thing from it actually.

“i met him when i was four. and i barged into his house because he wanted me to play wii with him. you see, his big brother didn’t really like to play with him so he figured that i was the next best thing.” you state.

“he had greasy hands. so did you. it was disgusting.” he states.

“and yuuji didn’t know how to turn on the game. or-or remember which one it was in. so he called his very cool, much older brother, to help us. i’d never met a six year old before, and naturally if i had, i wouldn’t have thought he was so cool.”

“shut up.”

sukuna desperately wants you to continue.

“seemed like the real serious type. kind of quiet. dark blue shirt, black shorts. the socks that only go to your ankles. i didn’t even know that his name was sukuna until a few days later, when he walked with us to school. he didn’t even introduce himself to me.”

“did you want to know him that badly?”

“and he fixed the remote, obviously. had some six year knowledge we didn’t clearly. and-and he turned to me. gave me a smile before he handed one to me and walked away.” you state, shrugging at him.

sukuna’s satiated with your answer. mostly because, it seems you seem to remember the ordeal in as excruticating detail as he has. that you were wearing a pink dress, gold earrings, and a ribbon in your hair. that your skin was the softest he had ever felt, that you were the first girl who had brushed fingers with him when he handed you the remote, save for his mom of course

sukuna brings his hand back into your hair, feeling the fabric of the blue ribbon in your hair today, matching with the short cardigan that you were wearing. and he wants to keep this one too. yank it out of your hair and secure it to his keys next to the pink one he refused to return.

sukuna looks down at the fabric, at your hair sprawled over your shoulder. he can make out the length of your collarbone from underneath your tanktop and settles his lips right into divot, before pressing a lingering kiss into your skin and feeling you keel over in his arms.

“france.” he murmurs, right into your skin.

“what’s that?” you ask, dazed from the contact.

“i learned to make the french toast in france.”

he kisses up the length of your neck, making no inclination to stop even as you barely stutter your words out. and for the second time, can't resist and places his hands on your waist just to pull you straight on top of him.

"makes sense. that's just-just toast for them." you mumble.

sukuna can't help but laugh. he's never going to tire of you.

next part linked here

taglist: @ghostreadersthings @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks

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luvjunie · 11 months

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Hey sweetie, I’ve been a real big fan. Can you write some HCS or a fic about the both Miles being twins?

a/n: ABSOLUTELY 10000% YES. i had way too much fun with this oml. and omg thank you you’re so sweet! 😭 btw, let’s just pretend that in this au they don’t have the same name since they’re ‘twins’ lmao

— headcanons. miles and miles as twins

Twins? Yes. Polar opposites? Definitely.

They both have a completely different sense of style, but one thing they have in common is that they both love Jordan’s. However I feel like miles!42 is a full blown sneakerhead. Has the better collection and often finds miles!1610 wearing his shoes, because somehow 42 always manages to win the snkrs raffles.

“Are those my brand new fuckin’ 4s?” “Uh… no?” “Take my shit off before I tweak out.”

42 keeps his side of the room squeaky clean, gets upset if there’s even a sock that does not belong to him on his side

Absolutely hates the song Sunflower. Cannot stand it, makes him wanna rip his hair out. The minute it came out 1610 played it into the dirt and 42 swears he can still hear it in his dreams till this day

1610 is the more affectionate one (outwardly) while 42 likes to pretend he’s completely devoid of that as if he doesn’t love his brother with everything in him.

“You got exactly three seconds to get off me.” “Just hug me back, damn!”

They’re the kind of brothers to open soundcloud, turn on a random trap beat and see who can go the longest freestyling. They do that thing where guys bring their fist to their mouths and squeal and shove each other out of excitement when they get a good flow going back and forth

42 is definitely the athletic type, plays football and soccer. 1610 is more in tune with his artistic side. Will play sports for fun but doesn’t care for them like that

42 is introverted as hell, doesn’t really like talking to people. 1610 is more of a social butterfly

They’ve never once liked the same girl. Ever. Their taste is drastically different

“Bro, you like a white girl?” “…Yes? What does her race have to do with anything?” “See me personally—“. “Literally nobody fucking asked.”

Used to help each other break out of their cribs when they were babies. Either that or Jeff and Rio would wake up to find that 42 had climbed into 1610’s crib after they’d been put down and slept with him instead. it was impossible to keep them apart from each other, so eventually they just broke down the second crib and let them use the one.

You can tell who is who in their baby pictures. You guessed it, 42 was the oddly solemn one who always wanted to play by himself. They worried about him for a bit. They also had to tickle him as an attempt to get him to smile in pictures, and just their luck, he’s never been ticklish

When they were eight years old, 1610 accidentally broke the wolverine action figure 42 never went anywhere without, and 42 cried about it for three days straight

They definitely ask for each other’s opinions on their outfits

“Do you think this shirt goes with these pants?” “The entire outfit is black… how would it not go together?”

They both obviously love their mother but 42 is the biggest mama’s boy. Always in the kitchen helping her cook, will watch her telenovelas with her and actually keep up with the plot. He’ll willingly follow her to the grocery store or accompany her on her ridiculously long Ross/Tjmaxx sprees because he likes hanging out with her

They terrorize the fuck outta their dad and have been doing so since they entered this world because they think it’s funny. Stupid shit like dying his boxers pink, or looking up a cracked tv screen video on youtube just to watch him nearly have a heart attack thinking they broke it. They used to twin-swap when they were younger to get out of certain things, but it’s 100% impossible to pull off now. They’re way too different, physically and mentally

Uncle Aaron took 42 to get his ears pierced when he was thirteen, something 1610 would never do. Rio basically had an aneurysm when he came home with them in and Jeff was not pleased but Aaron took the blame for it, said it was his idea. 42 made up some bullshit lie about how if he takes them out before they heal completely they’ll get infected. Still has them in till this day

42 is exactly fourteen minutes older and refuses to let 1610 hear the end of it, but 1610 is taller by an inch and weighs a little more.

“I don’t know why you’re talking shit like I’m not older than you. Pipe down lil’ bro.” “Sorry, is someone talking to me right now? Cause I sure as hell can’t see ‘em.” “Nigga it’s ONE INCH”

They’re definitely scrapping over that, and both get smacked upside their heads by Mama Rio for fighting with each other

42 needs the tv and the fan on, SIMULTANEOUSLY when he sleeps or he’ll be up the entire night. 1610 can’t stand it

1610 will try and turn the fan off after his brother’s been asleep for probably two hours, thinking he’s in the clear until he hears—

“Do you value your life? Turn my damn fan back on.”

Deep down 42 is a big ass softie and loves spending time with 1610, he has no idea what he’d do without him. He’s just not the best at expressing it. 1610 teases him about it simply because he enjoys aggravating his other half

“You still got plans with Ganke tonight?” “Nah, his mom’s dragging him to some baby shower.” “Oh, cool, cool… So what movie are we watching?” “Huh?” “Huh—Headass. What movie are we watching tonight?” “Sorry, I’m not understanding. Are you—asking to spend time… with me?” “Damn, I need to say it in Spanish? Matter fact, you probably won’t understand that either. No sabo ass.”

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse fanfiction #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #miles morales headcanons #across the spiderverse headcanons #spiderman astv

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ilwonuu · 3 months

Note

you wants skz thoughts and man do I have some.

first of all Chan is the biggest fucking much istg. He'd get so pussy drunk and would be dedicated to eating you out. He couldn't start his day without it. Somnophilia ofc with consent so he could wake you up by eating you out and making you cum on his tongue over and over again. it's gotta be his favorite thing ever, eating you out, clawing at your thighs while he held them open from crushing his head when you came. Your juices all over his face and he'd truly act like he was drunk after.

Han is the horniest man alive istg. He'd also be a major munch and a ton of people see him as submissive but no no no. He'd be all cute and sweet but it's an illusion bc he'd be so aggressive as he ruined you, bred you, etc. His stamina is in another league bc he'd have you crying after cumming on his face multiple times and his dick. Overstimulation to the max and he'd tease you sweetly, bully you in the sweetest voice. Choking kink for sure, his hands are so pretty and decorated with rings as he chokes you. he's messy and he loves sex to be as messy as possible. Spit, tears, make you squirt, etc.

omg yes these are both such good ideas!!! im getting too the han part next so look out for that!!! thank you for your request. I HOPE U ENJOY!!

so good. hans part | here

꩜ bang chan

✮⋆˙ paring- pussydrunk!chan x fem reader

✮⋆˙ warnings- needy chan, consented somnophilia, cum eating, dirty talk, sweet bf chan, needy!reader, kinda meandom!chan (just a tad he’s mostly sweet), lmk what else omg

✮⋆˙ a/n- please feel free to send requests/ smutty & fluffy thoughts im writing all my requests. btw just hit 400 followers!!! (THANK YOU SO MUCH I WILL CRY .) i love u all many fics coming soon!!!

your touch deprived boyfriend buried between your thighs as soon as he wakes up. he loves the whines you start to make as you wake up.

he tongue licks harder against you as he watches you fall apart on his tongue pulling away slightly.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers to whisper dirty things to you. “thinking about you all night. fuck you take it so well don’t you. you love this don’t you?” he smirks speeding up his fingers groaning again.

“fuck i need to taste you some more.” his mouth is immediately sucking against your clit. you are moaning his name as he watches your face.

his dick twitching in his sweatpants. his tongue starting to fuck into you at a fast pace.

“chan- fuck i’m gonna cum.” your legs trying so shut on his face from the feeling being too much. “no baby keep them fucking open.” he smirks at you as he receives a shaky moan from you.

he groans into your pussy as response. not breaking eye contact with you as he fucks you on his tongue until you cum for him. after licking up your messy pussy immediately kissing your lips.

“taste so good huh baby? fuck you did so good.” you nod kissing him again. “please fuck me chan i can take it.” he shakes his head.

“no baby not just yet. you can cum on my tongue a few more times right baby.” you begin to nod at his questioning words. “yea? good girl. spread your pretty legs. just like that. gonna taste so fucking good. can do this for hours.”

his final words leaving his mouth before he is diving back in to devouring your pussy.

#skz fanfic #skz smut #skz chan smut #skz bang chan #bangchan stray kids #stray kids bang chan #bangchan smut #bangchan fic #bang chan #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios

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marksbear · 1 year

Note

haii !! i really loved the ghost x tattoo artist!m reader you did and i was wondering if you could do one for a nail artist? like the reader has a successful nail salon and the reader loves to practice on ghost's natural nails which results in ghost walking around the base with glittery nails LOL the other guys teases the hell outta him but ghost doesn't gaf bc its makes the reader happy :33

love ur works btw !!

Thank you for loving my works and my tattoo reader fic it means a lot to me! This is such a cute idea and fic!

SIMON “GHOST RILEY X NAIL ARTIST MALE READER.

-Ghost had to swallow down his pride when you first asked him if you could practice on his nails.

-The more you started to beg he grumbled disagreements until he finally had enough and said “okay fine.”

-Ever since then it has became a regular thing for the two of you.

-Kinda like a bonding and trust experience for the two of you.

-At first he preferred the more dark colors and shorter nails, but as he became more comfortable he warmed up to the longer nails and bright colors.

-Having matching nails almost every week.

-He secretly loved that one time you painted your initials on his nails and you did the same, but with his on your hands.

-He spends a lot of money for your supplies. Buys you the latest kits and everything else you need.

-Stops by at your nail salon a lot. Leaves huge tips without even getting anything. Some of your regulars thinks he’s your sugar daddy from all the stuff he gives you.

-He made himself a cozy little spot next to your desk so he can watch you work and make sure your safe.

-You taught him how to do his own nails.

-There’s moments where he’s alone in the base and he has nothing to do so he digs in his bags and gets out a little nail kit you bought for him and starts to paint his own nails.

-Soap and Gaz almost walked in on him doing it but he hid the stuff so fast.

-He likes to kiss and cuddle you while he waits for his nails to dry.

-For the last night together before he had to go back to the military you paint his nails bright and glittery while he’s asleep and when he wakes up you run for your life.

-Price was the first one to notice the glittery nails on him. Price was welcoming him back sticking his hand out for Ghost to shake. Ghost shakes his hand and walks past not noticing the raised eyebrow that Price had.

-Gaz was next cause in his corner of his eye he saw something glittery and bright so he turns to look and see it was Ghost hands. He turns back around not thinking much of it before whipping his head around back at Ghost with wide eyes.

“Got your nails done?” Gaz asks with a teasing smile.

“Shut up before I kill you.” Simon snaps back.

-And Soap was the one to notice them last. The team were around the round table talking about their newest mission until Soaps eyes lingered around stopping once he saw glitter. He slowly looked up to see who hands they were and his mouth dropped once he was meant with Ghost.

“L.T has glittery nails!” He blurts out in a laugh while Gaz is in the chair next to him dying.

-Even price couldn’t hold back his laughter.

-As the boys laugh their asses off Ghost just roles his eyes and let out a sigh.

-Ever since then the boys have been on Simon’s ass but his nails. Always wanting to see them if he gets them painted something new. It’s like their his biggest supporters and haters in the same time.

Back with the two of you!

-He will paint your own nails if your too tired to do them yourself.

-He will also do your customers while you watch over him helping him if he needs it or messes up but that isn’t often.

-Simon’s in the salon so often people began to think that he worked there. So just for laughs and giggles you gave him a name tag.

-He’s a bit nosy so when a customer is telling you about there life or some drama is going on in their life he’s also listening and reacting in the back.

-People mistake him as a boyfriend that’s waiting patiently for his girlfriends nails to be done but that isn’t the case.

-So he will just straight up and tell him that he’s waiting for his boyfriend to be done with his clients and close shop.

-Once a month you give him long acrylic nails and you give yourself some two and for weeks your just messing and annoying each other for weeks. When he finally had enough he bit off one of them because you had them in his face.

-You got revenge by covering his gun in bright glitter.

So you two are even for now.

THE END

#simon ghost riley #Simon ghost Riley x male reader #Mordern warfare x male reader #cod x male reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #Mw2 Simon x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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kaylawritesfics · 2 years

Note

I need more about Steve dating a Henderson sister! Love your writing btw ;)

omg yes absolutely !! thank you so much <3

Steve Harrington Dating a Henderson!Reader - 2

headcanons

summary: more about what it’s like to date steve as a henderson sister

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (henderson!reader)

WARNINGS: swearing, brief mentions of sex

note: i just did some quick headcanons for this but if you’d like to see a longer fic of steve with a henderson!reader let me know !! these are my absolute favorites to write :)

The day Dustin finds out you and Steve are dating is arguably the best day of his life.

“Oh my god I knew it! I can’t believe you two shitheads actually kept this from me! This is the best day of my entire life.”

From then on, Dustin insists on coming with you to see Steve at least once a week (sometimes more).

Steve loves Dustin so he really doesn’t mind at all for Dustin to tag along on a few date nights.

You and Steve babysit Dustin together !! Although Dustin prefers the term “hanging out” inside of babysitting.

Steve always brings two movies with him from Family Video on these nights. He brings one for the two of you to watch with Dustin (usually a comedy or an action movie) and then other for the two of you to watch after Dustin goes to bed.

“Okay, I’m going to bed. I better not hear any weird noises. We all like to use that couch, you know.” “Dustin!”

Your mom loves Steve. She invites him to dinner twice a week.

You would never tell either of them, but you’re secretly really thankful that Steve and Dustin are such good friends. You don’t think you’d ever be able to date someone who didn’t like your brother.

“Y/N, it’s my turn to hang out with Steve!” “He’s literally my boyfriend, Dustin.” “I don’t care, I knew him first.”

Dustin is your biggest supporter. Between Dustin and Robin, you don’t think you could ever break up with Steve. It would break their hearts.

Dustin begs to teach you and Steve how to play DnD. You guys eventually cave, but it only lasts for a couple days because you are truly so awful at it.

Steve sneaks in your window some nights, which Dustin thinks is hilarious.

“Dude, use the front door?” “No, it’s more romantic this way.”

Steve gives Dustin girl advice and Dustin really tries to follow it. He wants his relationship with Suzie to be just like your relationship with Steve.

Dustin looks up to both of you so much. He really thinks that you’re the coolest people in the world.

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ddaisyvision · 10 months

Text

𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him.

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes.

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind.

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind.

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji.

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...”

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down.

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you.

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes.

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

#csm smut #denjichainsawman #denji smut #denji x reader #★ csm

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rabbitblackx · 11 months

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if i could request a Brahms Heelshire fic :(? Sorry to bother btw! Feel free to ignore this if you want :] So anyways, Brahms has an s/o who has braces and they need to leave the mansion once a month for their braces adjustments. And everytime his s/o leaves, he throws a large tantrum like a child? He's very clingy and afraid that you'll leave him ;(

Hiya! Don’t worry ur not a bother at all xx :)

Brahms Heelshire with a Reader that has braces

Brahms thought you looked really cute with braces. He liked playing with them when he kissed you. He even got his own porcelain doll of you to match his. Unlike the blank expression little Brahms had, your doll had a big smile. He very carefully painted your braces on the teeth, making it look even more like you

You had to go into the village every month or so for braces adjustments. Brahms absolutely hated it. He always chucked the biggest tantrum you had ever seen. The grown man threw himself on the floor, wrapping his arms around your legs so you couldn’t leave

“Brahms, I gotta go get my braces fixed!” You whined

Brahms lifted himself to his knees, now hugging your waist. He hid his masked face in your belly, grumbling like a child

“No! Don’t leave me.” He pouted in his deep, raspy voice

You sighed, running your fingers through his dark curls. “I’m sorry, Brahmsy. I don’t wanna go either but I have to. I’ll be back as soon as it’s over. I promise.” You cooed, petting him softly

Brahms whimpered, trembling slightly as his grip on you tightened. You stood there in silence for a few moments, hoping your fingers in his hair would soothe him

“I’ll bring you back a treat?” You offered

Brahms stiffened around you, slowly looking up at you through his mask. “Anything I want?” He asked quietly

You smiled, nodding your head and pushing the curls away from his eyes. “Anything you want.” You purred, showing off your braces

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #brahms x reader #brahms #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy #the boy 2016 #rab.reads

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vic-draws-sometimes · 6 days

Text

Went on a research spree

Have you ever thought about Gotham??

I've seen it referenced as "the largest city in America", and I'm assuming it's by population rather than land area.

Irl the biggest city in America is New York, with more the 8 million people and 469 miles square or 754 km square (including some 150 miles square of water).

It is BIG.

But the largest city in America by land area is Sitka in Alaska and New York doesn't even make it to the top 25 (it's 28).

And since New York does exist in the DC universe, it means Gotham probably has around 9 million people (NY is 8.6).

And this fact is funnier when you remember that Gotham has a Lady Gotham that is heavily inspired by the Statue of Liberty.

It's a HUGE city to cover for one fucking human and Batman is absolutely insane for always saying "Gotham is mine" and "I work alone". I'm surprised there isn't at least one other vigilante hero working the day shift and going under his radar, or like in a specific district.

(I've seen that in batfamily fics they sometimes assign a district per bat, but idk how canon it is).

I'm really curious as to Gotham's land size and neighboring cities. Blüdheaven (what a fucking name btw) is called Gotham's little sister I think? And in Under the Red Hood (don't quote me on it, I'm high and trying to remember my sources) Batman and Red Hood are standing on a tall building and they can see Blüdheaven's atomic explosion from there, pretty closely I'd say. But it varies from 40 minutes by car to 2-3 hours by train. Very confusing.

On the other hand Metropolis is said to be Gotham's twin city from across a bay. I read in a comic recently that it takes 2-3 hours by car to get from one to the other, which surprised me. In the DC Universe Online game the cities are so close you can glide for 2-3 minutes and get there. I'm aware it could be for gameplay purposes, but even in DC Super Hero Girls the cities are separated from a pretty small bridge.

Now get this, the bridge linking Gotham and Metropolis has said to be the longest suspension bridge in the WOLRD. Irl the longest is 2023 meters (~2km or 1.2 miles) so if there's only the bridge to go through, it's not a 3 hours ride.

Now where am I going with this?

Nowhere. I'm surprised if anyone is reading all of this.

#gotham #gotham city #batman #autistic rambling #its a vibe #bruce wayne #wayne family

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vettelsdarling · 11 months

Note

Heyyy I’m the one who req the Instagram ff and I loved it so muchhhhhh and I want to ask for another but where it’s like a mix of an actual ff but also an Instagram ff? So here’s my prompt: Mick and Reader are both going through tough times regarding their dads because Michael isn’t doing well and readers dad passed away when she was in her mid teens. She and him are best friends because of her dads connection to his dad and they grew up in close proximity. She comes to all his races (can u do it so that mick is racing for Mercedes instead of George??????) and she is his biggest supporter. After a lot of time, Mick confesses to reader because he’s liked her for a long time and reader agrees to date and they make like a soft reveal on Instagram! Thank youuuu Elllll

𝑫𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝑰𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔

➪Interesting plot, I like it!

➪Again, I'm pretty new to instagram fics, so I hope I succeeded in bringing your vision to life.

➪Wasn’t completely sure what you meant by “mix”, but I hope this is what you meant!

Things to note:

❥I took some inspo from “Daddy Issues“ by TNBHD

❥You’re a famous ballerina, daughter of a famous lawyer and business man, Erik Klum (name is made up btw.)

❥You and Mick are 2 years apart

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, a lot of angst, a lot of daddy issues

Word Count: 4.1k+

“𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒖𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒐𝒐.”

Euripides once said, “To a father growing old, nothing is dearer than a daughter.” The saying might've been true, but you never got to experience it for yourself. You never saw him grow old. Your dear father never got to see his sweet little girl grow old either. You missed him every single day.

Backstory

Your father, Erik Klum, was a famous lawyer, who handled Michael Schumacher’s monetary belongings. That's how you got to meet Mick Schumacher. The famous Formula One driver's son. The two of you practically grew up together. His mother, Corinna, was like a mother to you. Your own died when she gave birth to you. Mick and Gina were like your siblings. They were near your age, so the three of you had no problem getting along.

Your father did his best to provide for you. He funded your dream. Ballet. Your mother was a ballerina who travelled the world to perform. That was how she met your father. He also funded any extracurriculars you had time for along with whatever pampering he believed you needed. He wasn't a mother, so he never really had a clue about what a daughter would want, but he always tried his best. Corinna was there to help him out at times, which you also appreciated more than anything.

When you were coming into your pre-teens, you were sent to a ballet boarding school. Your father had set aside enough cash to get you there, as it was a part of your dream to be just like your mother.

At the airport, everyone came to say goodbye to you. You were moving all the way to France to pursue your ballet. Mick and Gina both cried, but Michael assured them it’d be alright. Your father only cried tears of joy. The way he saw your mother in you made his heart give out. You didn’t think the last thing you’d ever hear him say was,

“You look just like her. I’m so proud of you, my little girl.”

You spent the first couple of years training hard and working your way up the ranks at the academy. The process was halted, however, when you’d gotten a phone call from your father followed by a message.

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. Michael was in a coma. Your father explained it’d happened due to a ski accident. He’d booked you a ticket home so that you could go visit. After all, Michael was like a second father to you.

When you got there, you saw the immense grief etched on everyone’s faces. It happened so suddenly. Nobody had seen it coming. Your heart ached, but you knew it was nothing compared to what Mick and Gina were feeling. The three of you hugged and cried for the most part of that day. You stayed for two more days, grieving with everyone before you inevitably had to go back to France.

You managed to keep your composure whilst at the academy. With the updates you’d get from Mick and Gina, you were reassured. Some time passed, and you’d heard that Michael was out of his coma. It sent a huge wave of relief and helped ease your mind when you were alone. You’d been prone to panic and anxiety attacks.

A couple of more years flew by, and you suddenly got a phone call from Mick. He never really called without texting you first, because he knew you had a strict schedule. Luckily, you had your phone when he called.

“Hello?” You heard from the other end of the line.

“Hey, Mickie, what’s with the sudden call?” You asked.

“You have to get home right now. I’ll explain when you get here. We bought you a ticket, your flight leaves early tomorrow.” You felt anxious. Fear started eating away at your feet, making its way up your legs to your stomach and to your throat.

“Okay,” you croaked. The line disconnected and you immediately ran off to administration to tell them you had a family emergency and had to go home for a while. They gave you two weeks, which in retrospect, wouldn’t be enough for what was to come.

When you came to the airport, you realized your father wasn’t in sight. It was just Corinna, Mick, and Gina. Your heart sank. Had something happened to your father? Your head started pounding.

“Hi darling,” said Corinna and tried to keep her composure.

“My dad… where is he?” You asked with a shaky voice, scared of what her response would be. Much to your dread, your suspicions were confirmed,

“I’m sorry, my sweet girl. I’m so sorry.” She didn’t even have the heart to tell you the words. He was gone. You broke down. Mick and Gina looked absolutely devastated for you. Your only driving force was gone. You were all alone. You couldn’t think straight. All you did on the car ride home was cry out to your father. You couldn’t believe that he was gone. It didn’t seem real to you.

When Corinna pulled into the lot of their place, soon to be yours as well, you got out with the help of Mick. Your head was too cloudy to walk by yourself. You could barely form a coherent sentence.

The funeral was the worst part. You watched as they sank your father’s mahogany coffin into the ground.

“Papa! No! Please don’t leave me, papa!” You screamed as you fell to your knees. You couldn’t take it. You never got to say goodbye to him. You never had the chance to say a few final words to him. He’d been taken from you without warning.

Mick and Gina helped you through the first two weeks, as you had to go back. Since you weren’t an adult yet, your aunt had gained custody of you, and you had to move from Switzerland to Germany. Moving away from all you’d ever known was tough on top of the death of your beloved father.

Years passed by at the academy, and you were a full-fledged Ballerina. You performed in various theatres and at famous events. You’d become somewhat of a household name in ballet. Many called you a prodigy, which you were. Your upbringing was based around ballet.

Present

You'd still kept in contact with the two Schumacher siblings during all the years you spent in France and Germany. You visited them sometimes for minor holidays, which always lifted your spirits.

Mick had started a career in racing, just like his father. He told you that he'd earned a seat at Mercedes. You had come to his races before. Several times, in fact, when he was with Haas. You were beyond ecstatic when you heard he'd earned a place in a dominant car for the new season. Next to Lewis Hamilton, no less.

You wore one of Mick’s shirts when he came out of the shower. His hair was dripping onto his chest, and he had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Hey, you should wear one of my new Mercedes shirts to the race today,” suggested Mick. For a while, you’d had growing feelings for Mick, and coming to all his races only made him admire you that much more. He’d come to your performances as well, and it always made you happy to see him amongst the huge audience you normally had.

“Hmm, maybe. Won’t people be suspicious though? I mean, I’d look like your…” you trailed off, hoping he’d finish off.

“No, don’t worry about it! Everyone already knows you’re like a sister to me,” He chuckled and threw you one of his shirts. It had 47 on the back of it. Your heart stung briefly when he said that you were like a sister to him.

The Australian Grand Prix was a strike of luck for you, as your performance was in the same city. You were performing in Her Majesty’s Theatre later that day. You’d practiced ever since you heard about the gig.

“You should wear one of my leotards for my performance tonight. It’s only fair!” You joked, watching as he laughed along with you. Domestic moments like this were what had made you fall in love in the first place. You travelled with him constantly. It was hard to not catch any feelings. You could only wish for him to one day feel the same.

“You’re coming to my dad’s 50th birthday luncheon next week, right? Gina said she’d come. Corinna too,” you asked. There was no race the following weekend, so he agreed to come with no hesitation. You always baked a cake on your father’s birthdays to celebrate for yourself. Sometimes Mick was there to join you. This time was different. It wasn’t just baking a cake and singing a gentle birthday song for your father. You wanted to go all in. He deserved it.

“Klum… I don’t want you to overwork yourself with the luncheon, okay? Let me help you.” Mick was always really considerate of you, which was enough to make your heart melt into a bowl of soup. You wanted nothing more than to spend every single birthday of your dad’s with him.

“Mickie… you know how much it means to me. 50 is a special number. That’s you know… halfway.” You mumbled the last part, but it was loud enough for Mick to hear it.

“I know, I know. If you really think you can do it on your own, of course, I’ll let you. I’m just saying, if you need help; I’m here for you.” You nodded and smiled at him. He gave you a warm smile back. It felt like it hugged you.

“We should probably hurry up, though. We have to be there in time.” Mick quickly found some boxers and other articles of clothes to wear for the day. The two of you were used to seeing each other without any clothes on. It felt natural. Yet, your cheeks were still dusted pink. Whilst he got into his clothes, you found a skirt to go with his shirt. It was barely visible due to the oversized shirt, but you wore it anyway. With the outfit, you wore a pair of white satin high heels you’d been gifted by Jimmy Choo. Because you were wearing his shirt, Mick had coordinated his outfit to match yours. You knew the media would try to gossip about it, but in all honesty— you wanted them to.

When the two of you arrived at the paddock, cameras were already everywhere and ready to snap photos of you and Mick in matching outfits. The paparazzi were ruthless. Anything to get the latest inside scoop. Even though you were used to the attention, you hated having your private life revealed. It was the main reason you never told a soul where you lived. Only the Schumachers, your aunt, and some of the drivers knew. You had a long-time friend from the academy who also knew because she often came over to your place to take care of it whilst you were gone.

Luckily, behind you was Lewis. He got all of the attention with his fashion statement. You adored his sense of fashion, and so did the media.

“Viel Glück, Mickie,” you said when Mick got into the car. You gave him a hug and stepped aside for the engineers and strategists. You were incredibly proud of Mick for landing a place with the silver arrows.

It was lights out and you saw all the cars race almost as if they were synchronized. It reminded you of some of the dances you’d done in the past. Before you mostly did solos, anyway.

You watched as Mick went from P13 and worked his way up to P1. You couldn’t even believe your eyes. It was incredible. With only a few laps left, he was able to fend off the driver behind him and go on to finish on pole. Everyone went to the celebration and when Mick came over to hug all his coworkers, he saw you in the midst and pulled you in for a big hug.

“This is for Erik and my dad. I did it!” Out of excitement, he kissed your forehead harshly and went on to hug the rest of the crew. Though the kiss didn’t have any meaning other than that of Mick’s elated state, it meant the world to you.

The interviewer was none other than Nico Rosberg. He came up to Mick and asked a couple of questions about the competition and whatnot, before moving on to ask about you. Mick was a bit surprised, but he answered with what media training he’d been through.

“I think Klum and I both have a lot in common and we grew up together, so I see her as a little sister. She’s very supportive of me.” It was a perfect response in his mind.

“This is your first win, you must be very excited!” Said Rosberg.

“Naturally. I’m dedicating it to Erik Klum and my father. They are both such important people to me and have shaped me into becoming the man I am today. Well, the man who just won this race.” It was sentimental and all the tabloids would be sure to latch onto that.

A week later, you were out shopping for ingredients with Mick. You'd spent the night before decorating your house. Apparently, you hadn't been discreet enough.

Sportsgossipc

47,221 likes

sportsgossipc Ballerina Y/n Klum spotted grocery shopping with Formula One driver Mick for Erik Klum’s death anniversary. Are they cosying up together with a celebration?

user1 Is it just me or is this sort of disrespectful to “gossip about”

user2I was about to say the same thing…

user3 This is wrong… Erik died in January. It's for his birthday probably

user4 Leave them alone lol they already got so much shit to handle

user5 First of all: it’s Erik’s birthday. Second of all: If it were his death anniversary, why would you make it into a gossip story??? Third of all: “cosying up together with a celebration”? What is that supposed to mean?

When you came home and went to post a happy birthday post for your dad, you saw a dm from your friend. It showed you and Mick shopping. The photo itself wasn't upsetting in particular. No, the caption is what got you. Mick walked up behind you to see what you were doing. When his eyes locked with the screen, he was shocked.

“They have no right,” said Mick and hugged your waist. You tried to not let it bother you too much and instead posted a story about it, followed by a birthday post for your father.

y/nklum posted a new story, mickschumacher posted a new story

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacher and 233,754 others

y/nklum You would be 50 today. I miss you every day. I know it’s been a while, but I will always mark my calendar on this day. Thank you for everything you’ve sacrificed and done for me, happy birthday papa❤️

mickschumacher Happy birthday, Erik❤️

ginaschumacher ❤️❤️❤️

You put your phone aside and started cooking. Gina and Corinna were going to arrive precisely at noon, so you had a good 3 hours to finish everything. You ended up letting Mick help you, as you realized there were way too many things to do.

As time passed, you got the food ready and the guests arrived. Everyone sat down by the table you had in your dining room. Next to you, you’d placed a nice portrait of your father. Before eating, a birthday song was sung in his honour.

“This is amazing, kids. You know what you’re doing!” Corinna complimented your cooking. Your usual meal was hotel food or restaurant food, but if there was one thing you could do well; it was cook. Your father had taught you from a young age, and the academy also required you to start cooking your own meals as you grew older.

“Thank you so much, Corinna, I’m glad you like it.” You smiled. Corinna was more of a mother to you than your aunt. You barely ever saw her even though you had to move all of your stuff over to her place. You spent most holidays with the Schumachers when you weren’t in France. After France, you got a house close to your second family.

“That reminds me! I found your father’s old wedding band in our storage. I figured you’d want it.” Corinna gave you a small box which contained the ring. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your cheeks. It was a beautiful gold ring with a tiny diamond in it. You hugged it and thanked her for it.

After everyone went home, you were left with Mick. He offered to clean everything so that you could take a breather outside on your patio.

After he’d finished cleaning, he met you outside. You sat on a wooden porch swing. Before taking a seat next to you, he admired how the sunset hit your face perfectly. You were beautiful. Your legs were crossed over each other and the way your face lit up when you saw him… he could barely contain his feelings for you.

“He was a great man.” Mick finally took that seat next to you.

“I miss him.”

“It’s only natural. I miss him too,” he replied calmly.

“I want him to know how I’m doing,” you whispered, trying not to cry any more than you’d already done.

“He knows. Trust me, he does.”

“Do you think he’s disappointed? Because I can’t sleep alone? Because I can’t sleep without having nightmares of him?” You leaned into Mick’s chest, hearing his heartbeat.

“Not at all. I think he’s proud of the incredible woman you’ve grown up to be.” He rubbed your back and pulled you closer to him.

“Will you stay with me forever?” You asked.

“Of course, Schatz.” Your heart started beating fast. It was the first time he’d ever called you a pet name. Usually, he resorted to your name, a nickname, or your last name. You acted as if you hadn’t heard it so that it wouldn’t create any embarrassing tension between you.

“I’m sorry. I’m being clingy and needy, aren’t I?” You sighed and looked up at the setting sun.

“Never, Liebling. I know that you’ve got daddy issues because I do too.” Hearing him say the actual term out loud made you want to bury your face in his chest and cry until you no longer had any tears left.

“My dad is still… well, you know.”

“Yeah… it must be horrible. I don’t know how it feels, but I’m always here for you.” You snuggled into him.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I had lost him that day. You’re really strong. You should know that. I will always be by your side,” Mick spoke softly.

“If you were mine, I would run away and hide from all of this fame and attention with you. We could enjoy our lives to the fullest extent.” You felt like your heart had stopped. You pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes,

“If I was yours?”

“I tried to keep it to myself… I know you probably don’t feel the same way. I’m an older brother to you, right?” He said with a hint of regret in his voice. You immediately cupped his face with both of your hands,

“You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

“You feel the same way?”

“Of course, I do! I’ve been in love with you for a while now.” You smiled.

“I’ve loved you since you first took off to the academy. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you.” He pulled you over his lap and hugged you tightly as if you were a fragile little thing.

“I love you, Schatz.”

“I love you too, Mickie.”

A few months had passed before the two of you agreed to go public with your relationship. The timing was perfect because you attended the last race of the season. The two of you still had your reservations about going public, so you played a little game with your fans to see if they could figure it out from subtle pictures. Of course, many of the drivers knew a few weeks after it’d happened, but you’d asked them not to tell.

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacherand 355,860 others

y/nklum Came to the show with flowers and carried my heels home for me after❤️

lewishamilton Show was great, keep it up!

landonorris I fell asleep but the parts I saw were amazing👍

y/nklum Why am I not surprised😒

charlesleclerc I know, I'm such a gentleman

y/nklum Hmmm🤔

user1 NOOOOO WE LOST HER😭😭😭 MOTHER NOOOO🙏🙏🙏

user2 crying rn

user3 my parasocial relationship is quaking💔

user4 It's Charles😭👍

user5 How do you know?

user4 Didn't you see the comment he made? It's definitely him💀

user5 Oh💀😭

user6 what in the soft launch-

user7 LMAO I CAN’T WITH CHARLES BEING SO OBVIOUS

user8 What abt Mick😭💔

user9 He said several times he sees her as a sister💀

user8 Could be lying🤷

mickschumacher✔︎

Liked by y/nklum and 538,924 others

mickschumacher Watched another amazing performance❤️ Had to leave early to prepare for a date though…

charlesleclerc Cool, wish I was that flexible😅

y/nklum Thanks💖

user1 Mick???? Soft launching???? Under a y/n post???? This makes no sense

user2 Wait is he referring to y/n or someone else wtf

user3 I thought y/n was dating Charles💀

user4 Bro everyone thought that

user3 Isn’t she though?

user4 Personally I think she is but idk

user5 Why is Mick soft launching at the same time as y/n😭

user6 Lmao he went to a friend’s performance and ditched it for a date💀

user7 rip y/n

user8 Charles is there for her though🥹❤️

y/nklum✔︎

Liked by mickschumacherand 379,688 others

y/nklum Thank you to the random stranger who offered to take a picture of me and him together❤️

landonorris That random stranger was me🙄

y/nklum No, you were the third wheel

user1 Nah that definitely doesn’t look like Charles

user2 Nvm that ain’t Charles unless he dyed his hair💀

user3 isn’t that Mick😭

user4 It looks a lot like Mick. I think it is him…

user5 But didn’t Mick say that he left her performance to go on a date?

user4 No, he said he left early to go PREPARE for a date. It could’ve been a date with her.

user6 I love the subtle Lando slander for no reason😭🙏

user7 If Mick posts something like this, we’ll know what’s going on and who’s dating who💀

mickschumacher and y/nklum

Liked by landonorrisand 836,190 others

y/nvettel Spending our 6-month anniversary skiing ⛷️ Happy 6 months, Mickie❤️❤️❤️

mickschumacher Happy 6 months, Liebling, I love you❤️

y/nklum I love you more❤️

landonorris Should’ve invited me when I actually wanted to third wheel smh

y/nklum Go skiing with Carlos

charlesleclerc Finally I don’t have to keep quiet about it anymore

y/nklum You came close to revealing it one too many times

lewishamilton Enjoy your vacation guys, congrats🙌

user1 I KNEW IT. FROM THE FIRST SOFT LAUNCH POST I KNEW IT.

user2 Jeez okay we get it💀

user3 I really thought it was Charles lmao

user4 I always thought they looked good together🙏

user5 childhood friends and now dating? This is the sweetest🥹❤️

user6 I can’t wait for the wedding pics

user7 They better get married

user8 Lando in the comments again😭😭😭

You thought back to when it all started, as you sat in the ski resort’s outdoor hot tub. It was just you and Mick in a hotel room, both hoping the other felt the same way.

You knew that your father would be proud. You’d fallen in love with a respectable man. A man that he got to meet and know before he passed. A man that you could call home because you could be in any hotel and still feel at home as long as you were with him. With Mick.

You also knew that if you ever were to have children, you and Mick would be sure to tell them all about their grandfathers. How one was a former world champion, and how the other was an unbeatable lawyer. They were both heroes. You’d convinced yourself. You could convince a couple of toddlers.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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