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#which is super hot don't get me wrong

vimbry · 2 years

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october's bringing a lot of analogue/'90s graphics horror indie steam games to attention. seems like it's at its peak and inevitable decline in popularity with over saturation of the genre right now. what I'm interested to see is what turn of millennium media nostalgia will bring to the table next.

vhs has tape degradation to emphasise visual/auditory scares; fifth generation video games were still crude enough graphically to have your mind fill in the gaps and create an uneasy atmosphere through their uncanny environments and models. so, I wonder what people are gonna do with DVDs and PS2-gamecube-xbox level graphics? some developers are, arguably, already creating the latter with their graphics being Way too sophisticated for authentic mid '90s hardware, so that's definitely achievable. can you make puzzles/secrets out of the menus, use CD skipping in the place of static and distortion?

this era's also where computers/the internet start their rise to prominence, so maybe we'll see more web-focused horror in a revival of classic creepypasta or something lmao

#indie game where you find weird files on somebody's old ipod #indie game that takes place entirely on an abandoned 2004 hot pink proboards #what's interesting is the hypnospace sequel will probably be coming out Just as we hit the next cycle #which is influenced by 2003-5 internet #also don't get me wrong I LOVE analogue aesthetics but it is Super overdone atm and not always too well. that's just what happens!#also something I was thinking of not long ago is my copy of s.pirited away is scratched in a place that will bring up the animatic feature #when trying to watch through the movie normally. which startled the hell out of me when I got to the river spirit scene #and he suddenly switched to a rough pencil sketch in silence. you can definitely utilise technical scares that way

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satorusugurugurl · 30 days

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My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,882

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language, steamy kisses, pillow walls

A/N: Ah yes, trauma dumping before things get super spicy!!! Love the communication, it’s giving this could be a great relationship but it’s complicated. If you want to be included in the tag list, you MUST have your age in your bio PLEASE!!! Thank you!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

Your breathless words had the world crashing down around Satoru as he stared at your flushed face. His eyes widened as he released you, his own heart hammering in his chest. He had never lost control like that before! But there was this pull in his chest, one that screamed that he needed to protect you from the walking douchebag with black hair away from his; no, what the fuck? Not his girl, his client!

“Holy fuck, I'm sorry! Shit, uhm, I shouldn't have done that.” Satoru grumbled, scrubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry.”

Your fingers trailed slowly over your lips. They were still tingling. “No, it's okay. I almost blew our cover.” Satoru slowly dragged his hands down his face, his eyes transfixed on you as you spoke. “That was all part of the act. If you didn't do that, it wouldn't have looked as convincing.” Satoru visibly seemed to relax, shoulders slumping as he sighed.

“Thank fuck.”

“It was just weird.”

“I'm sorry?”A white eyebrow cocked up at your words. “Me kissing you was weird? Was it bad?”

Your face flushed more, the heat spreading across your cheeks before setting over your chest. “Oh god, that came out wrong!” Your hands shot up in defense. “I-I didn't mean like that, Satoru! I just—I haven't kissed anyone in over a year and a half. So I guess I just—yeah, I’m rusty.”

“No,” you jerked your head up, “no, it was nice.” Stunning blue eyes softened, making you swallow hard. He thought it was nice. He is the hottest man on the planet, and ESCORT thought kissing you was nice.

What the fuck was this life?

Snapping out of the trance Satoru had you in; you cleared your throat. “I-I think I’m gonna take a s-shower!” You tossed the extra pillow to the futon on the floor. “Oh, and uhm, that kiss was nice for me too.” You turned, bolting for the bathroom before slamming the door.

You slowly slid down it, sitting on the ground as you touched your lips. Satoru had such soft lips. It felt really good being kissed like you were wanted. No, no, it was an act! It's all an act. An act that had Satoru pacing the floor as he ran his hand through his hair.

It was only once he heard the shower running that he sat on the ground. What the fuck was that?! His pale skin was almost red as he tugged at white tufts of hair. He never got flustered with clients before! Maybe he was going insane. He must be because his mind keeps replaying the kiss repeatedly.

The way you stiffened, how your hands gripped him so tight as he kissed you like he had never kissed a client before. Satoru slapped both his cheeks before shaking his head. That breathtaking kiss was nothing more than him doing his job. He was looking out for you as a client. Yeah, that was it. That asshole of a guy was the reason his heart was still racing as he thought of you and your lips.

By some miracle, both of you managed to pull your thoughts away from the kiss. You showered before switching with Satoru. He finally came out ten minutes later, grinning as he witnessed you placing the four extra pillows down the middle of the futon. You fluffed, pushed, and sat back to assess your constriction before repeating the process repeatedly until Satoru barked out a laugh from behind.

“Quit the impressive wall you’ve built.” Looking over your shoulder, you watched Satoru pull a tank top over his head. He slowly pulled it down over chiseled abs that had to have been crafted by a Renaissance artisan. Because there was no way those were real. “I’ve never had a client do that before.”

”Please don’t take it personally.” You whispered under your breath before fluffing another pillow. “It makes me feel a bit better; I haven’t shared a bed with anyone in a while.”

“Hey, no worries, whatever makes you feel comfortable, you keep doing it.”

God, why was he so nice? Sure, you paid him the big bucks to pretend to be your boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he had to be so understanding and kind regarding your antics. If anything, you would have assumed your pillow wall would have irritated anyone. You know for a fact that Toji would have hated it.

His kind, understanding patience had you transfixed on his movements as you both settled into bed. You were on your side, facing him as he stared at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. The silence wasn’t at all awkward. It was comforting in a way. You didn’t have to force yourselves to make dreadful small talk; you could enjoy the silence.

The silence, however, had questions eating away at your insides. “Satoru?” Your voice mingled with chirping crickets and the warm spring breeze outside. You waited until his head turned in your direction before you continued. “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” His face softened as he nodded his head.

”Of course.”

“Why did you become an escort?”

Satoru chuckled, rolling onto his side so you both faced each other. “I think I’ve answered that question about a million times, so it’s easy.” His arm snaked around one of the pillows between you, hugging it to his chest. “I come from a pretty influential clan. It’s all about power, money, and success with them, and being an only child, they expected a lot from me.” His eyes rolled. “The old geezers kept going about when I would get married and have my own kids. And I didn't want anyone else feeling that way.” A cunning smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So, I became an escort to help people.” He snickered, hugging the pillow tighter. “Plus, I get to annoy those controlling old farts. So it’s a win-win for me. But I still handle my family affairs; being an escort is like my second job.” His words were genuine, and they had you smiling.

”That’s actually really sweet.” You shifted, inching just a bit closer to him. “You seem like a genuinely nice guy, doing stuff like this for strangers.” You giggled nervously, shaking your head. “That speaks volumes; I know you’re a nice guy, but I don’t know a thing about you.”

”I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Honestly.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, so do you like sleeping with your clients? Or has sex lost its spark?” You watched him curiously.

He shrugged a shoulder, smirking. “Sex is still good when it's with a good partner. But I honestly don't sleep with a majority of my clients. One because, well, let's be honest, they can't afford it. I charge double the price of a single day for sex. So that's ¥240,000.”

“For sex?!”

“Yep! So people can't afford it, especially when I do family events like this. But I usually refuse; I don't particularly like sleeping with someone unless I know them. You know?”

You hummed, and Satoru grinned, inching himself closer. Another one of your constructed pillows shifted out of the way. “I understand. I'm glad you have the right to refuse.” He nodded, blue eyes almost sparkling in the light of the moon flooding the room. “Have you ever been in love?”

“Puppy love, nothing more than that.” Satoru pursed his lips in thought. “But I'm not opposed to falling in love someday.”

“God,” you groaned, rolling into your back, “look at me, asking you stupid questions like I’m in high school.”

Satoru sat up, laying on his elbow as he looked down at you with a pout. “No! No, I don't mind! I like talking to you.” He was leaning over you, smiling wide, white strands of hair falling in his face.

“I like talking to you too, Satoru.”

Satoru wanted to reach out and move Y/H/C strands out of your face. To see if your skin felt as soft as it looked, to feel your warmth. His hand moved, and just before it touched you, he dropped it, clenching it in the pillow

“Y/N, could I ask you something?”

“Seeing as I asked you something, it's only fair.” You smiled, and it was so fucking cute Satoru wanted to bury his face in the pillow and kick his feet. Restraining his urge, he cleared his throat.

“You mentioned your ex in passing. I'm assuming it was that asshole from earlier?” You frowned, nodding. “I don't like to pry or push my clients, but I keep thinking about what you said. What did you mean by ‘why didn't he?’ when I asked why he broke up with you.”

Sitting up, you sighed, eyes slowly shutting. Remembering that night was something you desperately tried to avoid. Satoru, however, had opened up to you, and he was helping you. Plus, he'd already caught a glimpse of Toji, so you might as well bite the bullet and tell him.

Sucking in a deep breath, you exhaled slowly, bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them. “Toji Zen’in and I were high school sweethearts. He was my first for everything, so of course, I fell hard. We moved in together when we graduated high school into a small apartment in Kyoto. We got engaged at nineteen, and things went downhill.” Your grip tightened around yourself. “To make a painfully long story short, Toji developed a gambling habit, burning through his savings while I was in college.” The sheets shifted as Satoru sat up, turning to watch you with narrowed eyes.

“So, as a novice baker working at my parent's inn at twenty-one, I faced a dilemma. My fiancè was jobless, nonetheless, and behind on our rent.” The inside of your nose began to burn as tears threatened to escape. “I could leave him and focus on me and my career. I'd be losing my home and the supposed love of my life. Or I could use the money I saved up for pastry school to cover the rent we were behind on.”

Sheets shifted, and a large hand gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into Satoru’s eyes. “You didn’t.” The tears streaming down your cheeks answered his question. “Y/N—” A sad, broken laugh sounded in your chest.

“I did. Used everything I saved up to keep us in our apartment for four years.” Nausea churned in your stomach as you laughed a little louder. “After all of that, everything I did, he broke off our engagement. He said he didn't love me, that he couldn't see himself with me five years down the road.” More tears fell down your cheeks, landing on the sheets. “Toji said I was too focused on my career, my dreams, that I was eating too many sweets. That I wasn't as exciting as I used to be.” Satoru’s gaze darkened as you spoke, watching you wipe uselessly at your eyes. “That devastated me, so I packed up, moved to Tokyo, and got pastry training. I haven't been back since.”

“That fuckin’ dick!” Satoru looked obviously upset over everything coming out of your mouth. “Seriously, you're beautiful, god I hate people like that!” No one should ever be treated the way you have been. To take care of a partner, give up on a dream for someone who you were supposed to marry, to have them pull shit like that. It made Satoru sick to his stomach.

“Yeah, I'm still trying to get over it. In a way, I guess I'm happy it happened because I feel like I wouldn't have gotten as far in my career as I have. But the scars are still there, along with the trust issues. I can't bring myself to date anyone, let alone have sex.”

Oh. Satoru perked up at you mentioning sex. You had told him you didn't need sex. The reasoning behind that was like an itch he couldn't scratch. You brought it up, so he might as well take the opportunity to ask while he had that.

“Why is that? The sex part, I mean, you deserve your needs to be taken care of as much as the next person.”

“That my friend is because he broke up with me right after we had sex. Imagine just having an orgasm, and your boyfriend gets off of you and tells you he wants to break up before listing everything wrong with you.”

“Fuckin’ shithead.” Satoru wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest and hugging you as tightly as possible. “I'm so sorry you went through that. He's an asshole for doing that to you.” Satoru’s hand gently stroked your head as your face rested in the crook of his neck. “I hope you recover soon because you deserve to feel loved and happy.” His hand paused as he snickered. “And have mind-blowing sex that makes you forget all about those bullshit excuses he gave you.”

Gojo Satoru’s words and tone were so genuine you found yourself smiling into his neck. Your arms wrapped around him as you lay down. “I hope so, too. Thank you, Satoru.”

“No, thank you for sharing that with me; it means a lot.”

The two of you stayed like that, his hand stroking your hair while you rested on his chest. Your pillow wall lasted thirty minutes and was never constructed again that night or the following one because there was a comfort you and Satoru found in each other.

The two of you had so much fun during the day. Laughing and talking as you would hang around with your family and friends. You told stories and jokes and went to dinners with the wedding party together. He got along well with everyone, and your friends liked him and his looks. At the same time, your parents admired him for helping around the inn, delivering towels to guests, and cleaning up with you. They saw him as a perfect partner, just like you had paid him to do it.

But you were beginning to wonder if it was just his job or just him being Gojo Satoru. The amount of laughing and talking you did in front and behind closed doors didn't feel like he was doing another job. He seemed to be enjoying himself truly. The days seemed to fly by, and it was hard to believe it was Wednesday night. Satoru walked you to the bar your friends were at for the bachelorette party. If it was Wednesday, you only had four days left with him.

“Are you planning on getting drunk, like super drunk?” Satoru asked, looking at you from over his sunglasses. “Because that's a sight I would pay money to see.”

“Nah, I'll have a few drinks, but I don't like getting hammered drunk.” You gently bumped your shoulder into his side. “You sure you don't want to join us? The girls said they’re okay if you join.”

“Eh, I don't like drinking. I'm a lightweight, and it never appealed to me. If Suguru were here, oh, he'd be down.” You beamed up at him as he mentioned his one and only best friend. “Seriously, he'd love this shit. Being surrounded by girls, drinking with them.” Satoru shoved his hands in his pockets. “Seriously though, he'd love you. You two would get along great. I’ll have to introduce you to him when we get back to Tokyo.”

His words struck you like a hot iron. He was pulling out his phone and checking the time, oblivious to what he had just said. The man you were paying to be your boyfriend for a week wanted to introduce you to his friend? His best friend!

It had your heart fluttering as butterflies swarmed in your stomach. Satoru hadn't even corrected himself as he peered down at you, returning the warm and happy smile you were positive was tugging at your lips. God, you hadn't been this happy in so long.

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Cool! We should set something up. Maybe we could get din—”

The door to the bar flew open, and your friends, all looking intoxicated, spotted you. “There she is! Hurry up, Y/N, you need to catch up!” the bride-to-be slurred as she reached for you.

“Waaait!! Mina, let her say bye to Satoru!!” another bridesmaid said, smacking her arm.

“Right! Right, sorry!”

You giggled, looking into Satoru’s cerulean eyes. “I'm being summoned. I should get going.” Gojo snorted, leaning down and kissing you on the lips. “I'll see you later.”

“Uhm, excuse me.” Mina had a disgusted look on her face. “What the fuck was that lame-ass kiss?” Your other friends nodded in agreement. “Satoru, what the fuck? Don't you like Y/N?”

“Of course, I like my girlfriend Mina.”

“Then kiss her like you mean it!!”

You turned, giving Mina a look that could curdle dairy. “Mina, stop.” She flipped you off, her attention never leaving Satoru’s face.

“If I don't get to go to a strip club, I wanna see a steamy kiss!” The other girls whistled and cheered. “I want it steamy! I'm talking smutty romance-level shit!”

“Mina!”

“What you both are hot as fuck! Consider it a wedding gift!!”

“Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!!”

Oh great, now your drunken friends were chanting, and bystanders were watching. With a grimace, you turned to the very amused Satoru, who stared down at the drunken girls before his gaze fixed on you. He shrugged a shoulder as if saying, sure, why not? But he left the decision up to you.

While you were tempted not to make your poor pretend boyfriend a walking spectacle for a group of drunk women. The thought of having to listen to them bitch and moan about you being a party pooper was way worse. So you sighed before turning to face Satoru with a smile.

“You heard them. If we do this, I can return the dish set we bought.”

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

Satoru grabbed you by the throat, pinning you against the wall of the bar. His lips slammed against yours in a heated kiss you'd only seen in movies. His tongue was licking your bottom lip, and you so willingly obliged, opening your mouth, allowing his tongue entrance. Satoru trailed the hand that was around your throat down your curves. His large hand gripped your hips as he growled. Fuck he tasted so good, like cola and vanilla candy. Your tongue moved against his, trying to taste more of him.

While you tasted like strawberries and chocolate to him, it was like a symphony of tastes between your tongues. One that he didn't want to end, his knee pushed its way between your legs, pressing firmly over your clothes core, making you gasp into his mouth, eyes going wide as the intimate touch. Your moan only made Satoru kiss you harder, desperate to feel the vibrations from the desperate sounds escaping your mouth.

“Whoa! Okay! Okay!” Mina shouted, her wine spilling as she hurried forward. “I said kiss her! Not fuck her in public.” Your best friend playfully swatted at his arm.

When Satoru broke the kiss, a string of saliva connected your bottom lips as you both gasped for air. The sheer intensity of the kiss rendered you speechless as he allowed his eyes to trail over your face. Taking in the flush tint of your cheeks, the way your body trembled under his hand, and the subtle way your hips rocked forward against his thigh. It looked like the kiss had as much of an effect on you as it did on him.

He pressed a soft kiss against your slightly swollen lips. “You did ask for a smutty book kiss.” Satoru sighed as he pulled away. “I just delivered what you asked for.” Mina said something along the lines of ‘smutty kiss without the smut, please’ as she headed back into the bar. “Well, she might not have enjoyed it, but at least you seemed like you did.” His teasing tone slowly brought you back to reality.

”Y-Yeah, it was lovely.” You fanned yourself before heading to follow after your friends. “I’ll see you later tonight.” You breathed out, but just before you could make it inside the door, Satoru grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a hug.

”Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come get you, okay?”

”Okay.”

His lips were against yours again before he released you. “Okay.” He repeated your word back to you before waving you off as he headed back in the direction of the inn.

His kiss, the tone of voice, and the mere conversation of introducing him to his best friend whirled around your mind as you guzzled down a shot of sake, which had to have been the fifth one in the last forty minutes. While the other bridal party members were laughing and talking, you stared at the table. The kiss and Satoru’s words replayed over and over again in your head, like old sitcom reruns.

Was it normal for an escort to tell a client they wanted to introduce them to their friends? Was he just being friendly or taking pity on you? Then there was that kiss outside of the bar! He didn’t have to put his knee between your legs, but he did! Now your panties were wet, and the more you thought about the kiss, about him, the wetter they seemed to get.

Holy shit, what was wrong with you!?

Just three days ago, you told the guy you didn’t have sex; you didn’t need it. But the more you got to know him, the more times he kissed you, the more your icy resolve began to melt. Gojo Satoru was lighting a fire within you. One that you were very cautious of because you didn’t want to be burned again.

You got up from the table, swaying as you headed for the bathroom. Was Satoru just being nice? Or did he feel the same way you did? There was some sort of connection between the two of you. One that you might want to explore if he wants to as well. Why else would he talk to you the way that he did?

Entering the bathroom, you sighed, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your fingers trailed over your still-swollen lip. Toji had never kissed you like that in the past. Staring in the mirror, you groaned. An image of Toji stood behind you, haunting you like he had done for the last year and a half.

“Ugh, just get the fuck out of my head and let me heal already.” You scolded the image of him in the mirror, flipping it off.

”I’m in your head?”

Your heart stopped, and your hand dropped to your side. Toji’s image smirked as he tilted his head. You were getting ready to ask yourself how drunk you were when Toji moved. His hands landed on the sink, caging you in while the smell of cedarwood engulfed you like a cloud of smoke.

”Toji—!”

“Shut up, we need to talk.”

(TBC)

Taglist:

@arminloverlol @jamzywiththejam28 @gojoful @maskedpacific @ahseyy @kash77 @sadmonke @ari-maccha @sugurubabe @hyori2 @bluechocolatemint @itsinherited @dellappatca @therealestpussyeater @dead-at-tokyo @nvrgojover @drakenswifeyy @nealeart @yunho-leeknow @fire-child-kira

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angelfrombeneth · 3 months

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HAVENT I MADE IT OBVIOUS? - T . NOTT

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: *REQUESTED* Reader and Theodore are best friends. Reader gets wrapped up in her first love scandal and Theodore cant handle it. He cant cope that its not him.

Warnings: Angst, Slight Fluff, The most heart warming love confession ever. Mentions of sex but hardly.

A/N: The request wasn't super specific so I decided to go with something like this.No smut, because I have a really similar request which specifically asks for smut so that one will have smut.

"Teddy don't be a twat" You smacked his head as you sat beside him.

"What! Its not my fault the instructions were unclear" He scoffed.

You and Theo both were sat in potions as you both were paired up for a task. Theo thought he was being funny reading the ingredients not in the correct order and ultimately fucking up the mixture.

"This is why I hate pairing up with you in class" You groaned.

"Hey Y/N!" You looked up to see Cedric leaning against the front of your workbench.

"Oh, Hey Cedric" You smiled.

"I was wondering" He smiled at you, his eyes flickering to the side for a moment for placing a hand ontop if yours. "Would you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for a meal or something?" He grinned.

You smiled as you sat up in your seat. "I'd love that"

"Ill meet you at 6, outside your commonroom on Friday?"

You nodded as he smiled, caressing your hand before walking back to his seat.

You heard a scoff beside you, your neck cracked to look at Theo, who had a huge scowl on his face. "Your going on a date with him? He's such a prick"

"Oh fuck off Theo" You rolled your eyes as you stood up gathering your books before exiting the class.

Theo caught up with you, walking beside you. "No seriously, he's such a priss. Why's you wanna date.. that" You scoffed at his statement before scaling the stairs down to the Slytherin Commonroom.

"Theo shut up-" You turn to see Pansy. "Oh my god! Pans!" You squealed as you ran at her.

You felt Theo's moody presence slip away with Draco and Mattheo who walked over to him as soon as you ran to Pansy.

"Cedric asked me on a date!" You squealed.

"No way- Oh my god, this will be so good" Pansy smiled, grabbing your hand. "You can test the waters before the date at the party tonight!"

"Party?" And with that Pansy yanked you to your feet and you scrambled up the stairs being dragged behind her as the next 4 hours entailed getting ready for the party.

Slytherin parties were always off the chain. Every other house could party for sure, but the amount of shit Slytherin would gather for the party. All the alcohol and drugs like it was some free tester aisle of a muggle store. It would always end very heated whether everyone was hooking up or someone started a fight. It was always the same old shit.

You decided on a basic little black dress, you can never go wrong. The dress was short and frilled. To be fair it looked more like one of those frilly tops that remind you of a dress. Your assets were out on display, but it was a party why not.

"Girl, that dress is definitely not your size but it's so cute!" She chuckled as you spun around. You fixed the top, making sure there will be no nipple slips. "You have literally the perfect body; tits, ass and thighs. I'm so jealous"

"Pans shut up, you are so hot I won't even leave for the party we can have our own" You both giggled as you leaned forward kissing her cheek before grabbing her eyeliner and finishing up your makeup.

By now the party was in full swing for atleast an hour and you two were only just getting done. You held hands as you exited Pansy's dorm and skipped downstairs giggling. Not to mention the two if you had pregamed before.

You two did you rounds round the party greeting everyone and stealing shots from groups. You both got to your friends on the couch in the back corner as you stood like bambi, struggling to stand straight in your heels from how fucked you were.

"Woah- Careful" You heard as you felt a hand snake around your waist steadying you. You look up to the side and catch Theo's dark eyes staring down at you.

"Thanks" You giggled leaning into his chest, pulling his arms over your shoulder, holding his hands as you looked to the group. Pansy situated herself on Enzo's lap the two of them giggling at you and Theo.

"So Y/N, any updates with Mr Badger? I was told about your date" Mattheo smirked, he wasnt trying to wind Theo up, he didnt know but Theo still got pissed.

You felt Theo tense behind you but you didn't take notice of it as you continued to okay with the rings on his hands. "We haven't been on the date yet, but he seems nice"

You heard Theo scoff as you turned to look up at him. "Nice my ass" He mumbled. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to argue as you continued conversation with your friends.

Theo was enjoying the company, enjoying the feeling of your body snuggled against him as you played with his rings. God, he was falling, quick. He was too busy daydreaming to even notice you had sauntered away to the other side of the room.

"Ced~" You smiled as you stood beside him.

"Hey Y/N- You look gorgeous tonight" He chuckled, taking your hand and pulling you to stand between his legs. His hands gripping your thighs, dangerously close to your ass.

"So do you" You smiled, running your hand softly up and down his chest. "M' excited for our date" You giggled.

"Me too.. Its not everyday you get to be in the presence of a goddess" He licked his lips.

"Stop it you!" You chuckled, hitting his shoulder.

"Cant help myself" His hands threatening to touch the curve of your ass.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, chuckling down at him as he pulled you closer by your thighs, placing his lips onto yours as he kissed you softly.

It was needy, very needy. He gripped your ass as you leaned over kissing him more passionately as you say on his knee.

Third POV

Theo couldn't cope at the sight. The second Pansy pointed it out, his hand tightened around his bottle. Anger filling his body as he watched another man kiss you. Another man touch you. That should be him. Not Cedric. Him. Jealously bubbled inside of him, very quickly.

Theo was too focused on the scene that the glass bottle shattered at the pressure. All his friends turned to look at the sound and him. He looked down at his bloody hand as he wiped it on his shirt, before groaning and turning to push through the crowd.

Everyone was confused by the sudden action by Theo, they had no clue what caused it, or even a smidge of knowledge how much Theo loved you.

Theo rushed away, pushing through people trying to get further and further away from the hurt. His hand covered in blood and throbbing as he stopped at the stairs. Turning to look in your direction, noticing your still with him. He bit his lip, holding in any emotion as he continued up the stairs.

Your POV

A many days later, after the party, you and Cedric went on your date. It was lovely, he was very attentive which you loved. You didn't see him much the few days after but chalked it up to him being busy.

It wasn't till it was 4 days after your date with Cedric you noticed the boy was still yet to talk to you. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you wanted to confront him. Why was he ignoring you.

Suddenly someone bumped into you, quickly apologising as they sprinted down the hall. Curious you followed them, it was a first year probably not a huge deal

You had no expectation for the kid, but it wasn't what he was running to caught your eye. It was down a dark corridor you turned to see Cedric and Theodore.. talking? Before you could even call at them, Theo pounces on Cedric. Your eyes wide as you froze. You were too far down the hall to do anything but noticed Mattheo, Draco, Enzo and Blaise all struggling to pull Theo off Cedric. Cedrics friends yelling as Cedric was frankly getting battered.

You sprinted down the hall towards them, aa they got ripped apart as you approached. Cedric and Theo's face all bloody.

"What the fuck is wrong with you??" You screamed as you looked at Theo.

He looked shocked, taken back. "Me?? He started it!"

"Sock it Theo, there was no need" You helped Cedric to his feet. "Let me take you to the hospital wing" And with that the two of you left.

Third POV:

"Shut up Nott, you're so up her ass. Don't be mad she hasn't put out for you yet. It's a long list. She's just a hole to fill. You'll have your turn " Cedric laughed.

Theo doesn't know how he got in this situation, he was just walking then saw Cedric and now he was ontop of the boy pummelling his face in. He was talking shit about you, lying about you. He was horrible.

But the worse thing for Theo was when he saw you. Saw your face when you looked between the two of them. His heart broke when you reached for Cedric, cheking if he was OK and whisking him away.

Theo was going insane.

Your POV:

It had been a day since the fight. Both boys were in the hospital wing but you refused to see Theo why would he do that. He was your bestfriend, and Cedric was just.. a guy. A guy that made you happy. Its like Theo was punishing you for being happy.

You were sat in potions noticing Theo hadn't show up, and you were pissed. He was being selfish, this was a group project.

You go to the hospital wing to find Theo, but Madame Pomfrey told you he was dismissed last night but Cedric was still there. You looked over at Ced, noticing his curtain was shut, I guess he had company, you thought and just walked out. If Theo wasn't in class then there's only one placed he'd be.

You scaled the stairs to the Astronomy reaching the top as you took a moment to get your breath. You noticed Theo by the railing and you sigh.

"Theo you can't skip class"

He turned to look at you, inhaling the smoke from his cigarette as he looked at you. "Well I am so it doesn't fucking matter. Don't you have a baby to coddle?"

"Fuck off Theo, don't be a prick" You scoffed

"He's a bad person Y/N. Why won't you fucking listen to me"

"BECAUSE YOUR CHATTING SHIT NOTT" You yell at him.

"You don't even know what he said about you. He called you a slut. Your nothing but a hole to fill" He sneered.

"What the fuck is wrong with you! Are you jealous I'm happy?" You laughed at him, distressed with the situation.

"You aren't happy" He snapped.

"How do you know? How do you know what's good for me!" You stare at his back, rage building up inside of you as you yelled out at him.

"BECAUSE IM GOOD FOR YOU.." Theo yelled. He turned to look at you, his breath erratic. "I know whats good for you and its me.. not him, no one else. Its me, it'll always be me" His teeth are gritted as he looked as you as you stand in shock. "I love you Y/N! It's always been you. Every fucking waking moment I think about you, your fucking stupid coconut smelling hair! The way your lip dimple shows when you smile a certain way. I spend every waking moment thinking about you. I live and breathe for you Y/N."

You stand there stunned as you look down at him.

"Haven't I made it fucking obvious? I fought the fucking freak for you! Yes initially he did nothing but.. He called you horrible things.. I can't bare to see you with another man that isn't me. I think about you so much bella.. Morning, noon and fucking night, I think about you.." His voice cracked as he stared down at you before he took your hand, kneeling down infront of you holding your hand. "It'll always be you.." He softly kissed your hand.

Your eyes slightly glassy from the confession as you stand speechless.

"Please say something bella.." Theo looked up at you, his hands grasping yours.

You burst out into tears, ripping your hand away from him as you cover your face. "You are so annoying Theo- I- I didn't know you felt like this" You sobbed as you wiped your eyes. Your mascara smudged all over your face.

Theo stood up, cupping your face between his hands as he wiped your tears with his thumbs as he chuckled, a tear rolling down his eye.

"I guess we are both stupid.." He chuckled lightly.

"You're such an asshole" You hit his chest playfully, laughing slightly through the sobs. His hand catching yours as you hit his chest, before his lips crashed against yours.

The pair of you finally became one.

#harrypotter fanfiction #lorenzo zurzolo #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott angst #theodore nott confession #angelfrombenethfics

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sweetestdesire · 3 months

Text

CAUGHT IN THE ACT

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, mentions of masturbation, degrading speech, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras x Fem!Reader

SUMMERY: in which Trevor Zegras catches Fem!Reader in a compromising position.

"Stop fighting with me! I've been given explicit instructions, and you're going on this date whether you like it or not."

Trevor groaned dramatically as Y/N tugged on his arm. "I already showered and everything, what else am I supposed to do, Y/N?"

"Um, put on a decent outfit?"

"What if I don't even want to go?"

"Too bad. You had the opportunity to back out when Mason asked you if he could set you up, and you didn't, so now you're going." She mimed dragging him down the hallway to his room. "As your best friend and roommate, I'm in charge of making sure you show up and look good."

Heavy footsteps fell on the floor as Trevor stomped after her. "As my best friend, I'd think you'd be on my side about not wanting to go."

Y/N and Trevor had been best friends since they were kids. Growing up next door to each other, they’d spent years playing basketball in his driveway in the summer or making snow forts in her yard in the winter. Even though Trevor was two years older than her, he had always let her be part of his life. He might have teased her mercilessly, but she knew he was always there for her. He had helped her with crushes, coached her through her first date, first boyfriend, and first subsequent heartbreak.

Y/N knew people thought it was strange. Here they were, early-20s, and living together platonically. She knew a good number of people assumed they would get together one day, but Trevor had never felt that way about her. It was kind of weird, at first, to bring dates back home and to know that he was across the hall from her bedroom, able to hear every little thing that happened.

Y/N let herself into Trevor’s bedroom as he trailed behind her. “Just watch. She's going to be super hot and sexy and funny. It'll be your last first date, you'll fall in love and have eight kids and tell everyone about how it was just love at first sight. And I can be cool Auntie Y/N and ride a motorcycle and buy them alcohol when they start going to parties in high school."

"You've never even been on a motorcycle."

Y/N grinned at Trevor from across his room as he stood in the doorway, head tilted in a pout. "I'll learn to ride a motorcycle.” She said.

"I don't know why you and Mason think that I need to be dating someone." He entered the room and flopped onto his bed. "Maybe I'm happy living the single life."

"At the very least, you need to get laid, Trevor." A startled noise came from his throat and she giggled as she opened his closet, searching through his clothes. "You used to have a parade of babes coming through here. Now you're all grouchy. It's clearly sexual frustration."

"That is so very wrong. Besides, not all of us need a 'parade of babes' in our rooms. Unlike you, I like to have a night off once in awhile. Rest up, you know."

Y/N snorted. "Are you calling me a slut?"

"Nah, you already know you're a slut."

They both lost it, and she threw a shirt at him playfully between giggles. "Try this on for me."

Y/N heard him shift off the bed behind her and reluctantly begin changing as she dug through his closet for a few more outfit options.

"So who is this girl, again?"

"Mason’s friend, Lauren. I've met her a couple times, she's super pretty and really sweet. Curly hair, kind of a boho-chic vibe. Lots of flowy dresses and such."

"Not exactly my type, then?"

"I thought your type was 'has boobs.'"

"I'll have you know I'm a man of discerning tastes."

"Ah yes, of course. And what is your type, then, exactly?" Y/N turned around, arms full of clothing as Trevor finished buttoning the shirt she’d thrown at him.

"You know..." Trevor trailed off. "Sporty, kind of."

"Oh, sure." Y/N rolled her eyes. "The shirt's not doing it for me. Take that off and put on this t-shirt with this shirt over top of it."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And these jeans." She tossed the jeans across the bed.

"Are you going to watch me change?" His hands worked down the buttons as he spoke, eyes crinkling.

"Oh, excuse me while I preserve your modesty." Y/N turned sarcastically as he laughed.

"Gotta leave something to the imagination.” He said. "Okay, how does it look?"

Y/N turned back around and looked over Trevor. "You'll thank me tomorrow after she leaves." She stepped across the room, adjusting his shirt and helping him roll the sleeves up to his elbows. "Now, tuck the front in just a bit. Perfect."

Trevor spread his arms as she looked over him. "Presentable?"

He looked great. As her eyes moved up and down, Y/N had the thought that Trevor was far better looking than he had any right to be. His jeans fit nicely, held up by a nice belt. And the rolled-up sleeves of the shirt he had over it showed off his forearms and highlighted his large hands.

Okay, she hasn’t been entirely honest. Y/N’s entire life, she’d harbored a crush on Trevor. She’d also spent her entire life stuck being seen as, at most, a younger sister. He'd helped her through her first date and first boyfriend, but her first heartbreak had been the day she’d seen Trevor with his first girlfriend. Her second heartbreak had been the day he'd blushed, embarrassed, as his friends teased him about hanging out with her.

“She's just my friend.” Trevor had shouted. "I don't like her like that!"

That had been years earlier, though, and while Y/N had never fully gotten over her little crush on Trevor, she’d successfully moved on with her life. She’d dated casually, had a few relationships, and certainly had her share of one-night-stands parade through her bedroom in their apartment. She’d also learned how to sneak them out in the morning, much to Trevor’s chagrin. He loved to give them a hard time the next day.

But, back to that particular moment, where Trevor was standing in front of her, waiting for her review of his outfit. In that moment, Y/N felt the small rekindling of the torch she’d carried for him paired with the sadness of knowing she was sending him into the arms of some other woman. She pushed those feelings away quickly, and grinned up at him.

"You look amazing. Want me to make sure you've got bacon and eggs ready for breakfast tomorrow?”

Trevor swatted her arm playfully and she jumped, more out of surprise at the sudden feel of his hand against her skin. "You seem pretty sure she'll be coming back here."

"I would if I were her. I did a hell of a good job cleaning you up."

Trevor arched an eyebrow at her. "You would?"

"You know what I mean." She refused to let him fluster her. "Anyways, you're right. Maybe you won't come back here."

"Ouch."

"Maybe you'll end up at her place."

He scoffed. "Sure, we'll see about that."

Y/N had to urge Trevor out of the house in time to make it to his date. When he finally left, she sighed. She had met Lauren a few times and she was gorgeous, and funny, and always looked put together. She tried not to be jealous. Trevor had seen her in all manners of complete unsexiness, from being an awkward, gangly teenager to sweating buckets after working out to that very moment, in ratty yoga pants and a messy bun. Y/N was quite certain she'd be back at their place after the date.

Y/N wandered around the apartment aimlessly before flopping onto the couch, not used to the time alone. Trevor hadn't been out much since he’s gotten injured, and she had gotten used to having him around all the time. Suddenly, everything seemed incredibly quiet and lonely. Normally, Trevor and her would have dinner together, and then they’d watch an episode of something, and then maybe he'd play video games while she read a book or headed out for the night. It wasn't like they spent all their time together, but it certainly seemed that they’d gotten into a comfortable routine.

Her plans had fallen through for the evening, though, and Y/N hadn't bothered to make new ones. Her best friend from college was supposed to be back in town, but her flight had been delayed. She had been looking forward to seeing her, so was feeling particularly let down. Regardless, she decided to make the most of having the apartment to herself.

After showering and slipping into a comfy pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, Y/N popped a batch of popcorn for dinner. Cracking open a beer, she settled in on the couch, picking a movie she knew Trevor would never want to watch. While he preferred comedies or thrillers, she wanted love and drama.

It certainly wasn't planned that the movie she picked had a heart-droppingly gorgeous male lead that ended up in a panty-dampening sex scene with the equally erotic love interest. Watching the two of them paw at each other in a clandestine love affair was more than Y/N could handle. Between that and the reminder of her attraction to Trevor, she was in a state of full arousal by the time the movie ended.

Wiping her fingers after finishing her popcorn, she glanced down the hallway towards their rooms. Trevor wouldn't be back for a while. She was certainly not a beautiful, cat-like actress in a satin emerald dress about to be pounded against a bookshelf, but just for a moment, she wanted her own steamy scene. She flipped the TV off and shuffled through the apartment to the bathroom.

Trevor and Y/N each had their own private drawers in the bathroom, and she left a small bullet vibrator in hers for the occasional bathtub excursion. She dug it out quickly and made to go into her bedroom, but paused at the door. Glancing behind her, she eyed Trevor’s bedroom door. Her heart started pounding, strong enough that she could feel the pulse in her neck and hear the thundering in her ears.

"No.” Y/N said out loud. Her and Trevor had their own spaces. It was her best friend she was thinking about, and he didn't deserve something so disrespectful as her masturbating on his bed. Especially since he might be bringing someone back to fuck there.

Y/N started back into her own bedroom, but paused again, throwing another look over her shoulder at Trevor’s room. Then again, she said to herself, it would be incredibly hot. She didn't give herself another opportunity to back out. She opened his bedroom door and bolted into his room. Gingerly, she crawled onto his bed over top of the blankets, lying on her back with her head on his pillow.

A scent that was distinctly Trevor enveloped her. Whether it was his body wash or cologne or a mix of that with his own sweat left on the pillow didn't matter to her. Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling as she imagined having Trevor in the bed with her. Balancing the vibrator on her stomach, she wriggled her hips, sliding her panties and sleep shorts down at the same time and taking care to put them on the edge of the bed where she knew she’d find them again. She held the vibrator in one hand as she let the other caress her stomach. Her hand moved underneath the fitted tank top, sliding up her stomach to her breasts. She had forgone a bra, and the friction of her tank top against her hardened nipples was intoxicating.

Y/N took her hand away from her breasts, trailing it down to the pool of moisture between her legs. The excitement and nervousness of being in Trevor’s bed was more than she could handle. She worked her fingers against the slick lips of her pussy, dipping them just inside her dripping entrance, before turning her vibrator on and immediately pressing it to her clit.

A muted sigh escaped her lips as the vibrations relieved her intense arousal. Her breath came heavily, and Y/N pushed her hips forward just slightly, grinding back against the vibrator. Trevor’s pillow was soft under her head and his blanket was cool against her naked lower half. She spread her legs a bit more, her hand wandering back up to her breasts. Tweaking her nipple, she stifled a moan.

Y/N pictured Trevor towering above her. He had long been a prominent image in her masturbatory fantasies. The addition of being in his room, surrounded by his things and his scent and in his bed where he fucked his other girls... it was more than she could handle. She wanted him so badly in that moment. She wanted not just the lingering scent of cologne, but she wanted his body, to feel the heat of him against her, pushing inside of her.

The slow knot of an orgasm begin to unravel deep in her stomach, and Y/N tensed in anticipation. She adjusted the vibrator against her clit, waiting eagerly to cum. She was so close, so ready, just teetering on the edge of orgasmic bliss when she suddenly heard the apartment door bang closed.

"Hey, I'm back!" Trevor called out.

Y/N had never moved so fast in her life as in that moment, panic coursing through her body as she sat up. Her fingers were slick and she fumbled with her vibrator, barely managing to turn it off. She snatched up her sleep shorts as she bounded off the bed, peeked into the hallway quickly to make sure he hadn't started towards his room, and practically hurdled across the hallway into her own room. Panting, she tossed her vibrator onto a pile of clothes and rushed to slip her shorts back on, nearly tumbling over as she tried to maintain her balance.

"Y/N?" Trevor’s voice was at the end of the hallway.

She popped her head out of her bedroom door, plastering a smile on her face that probably made her look a little crazy. "Hey!" Her voice was too loud, too upbeat. "How'd your date go? Did Lauren come back?"

Trevor eyed her warily. "Uh, no. She's nice, but we didn't have a ton of chemistry. So much for a last first date."

"Awe, I'm sorry to hear that."

"Are you okay?" He frowned. "Is someone in there?"

"Nope!" A slightly obnoxious giggle bubbled out of her lips. "Just... you know, probably should have eaten a better dinner and not drank a beer. Guess I can't hold my liquor that well!"

"That's bullshit." Trevor shook his head. "You're being weird. You sure everything's okay?"

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak again, as Trevor walked down the hallway and into his bedroom. Her jaw clenched as he flicked the light on.

"Okay then. I thought you'd be hounding me for details."

"Tell me everything.” Y/N said obediently. "What happened?"

"Well, she's a vegetarian, I don't know if you knew that. So we probably shouldn't have gone to a steakhouse." He took off the dress shirt as he talked to her. "Also sounds like she met some guy on vacation that she has a thing for, but he doesn't live here. Never said anything for sure, but couldn't stop talking about him."

"That sucks."

Neither of them were looking at each other, and their eyes fell on the same thing at the same time. Her stomach dropped as she realized her panties were sitting on the edge of Trevor’s bed, just as he looked confused at the misplaced scrap of pink fabric hanging off his blanket.

"Y/N, are these..." Trevor picked up her panties, frowning down at his hand. "Why are these in my room?"

She froze in horror as any number of excuses flew through her brain. They got stuck to the sheets in the wash. Haha, it's a prank, bro. None of the excuses made it out of her lips as Trevor frowned down at his bed. The blankets were just the slightest bit ruffled, and there was an indent in the pillow where her head was.

"Were you in my room?"

Y/N grasped frantically at the flimsiest of straws, hoping he would end the conversation and they would never speak of it again. "No?” She didn't know who she thought she was kidding. The panic in her voice, the flush on her cheeks and chest, and the damp pink panties in his hand were more than enough to incriminate her.

"And you're definitely not hiding someone in your room right now?" His voice was low, the sarcasm barely hidden.

Y/N’s mouth was dry as she shook her head. Trevor stepped forward, making his way into the hallway. Shaking, she took a step back into her room as he poked his head inside. He glanced around, his eyes falling on the vibrator sitting on the pile of clothes nearby.

"So you weren't fucking someone on my bed, you were masturbating on it?"

Y/N couldn't physically speak. Her throat was as frozen as the rest of her, staring at Trevor. She hoped she didn't look as terrified as she felt, but she was sure her face was pale aside from the patches of skin that she could still feel burning. Whether the burning was residual from the almost-orgasm or a new reaction to the embarrassment she was feeling, she didn't know.

"Y/N, what the fuck?"

"I'm so sorry." The words came out stuttered, barely above a hoarse whisper.

"Why would you do that?"

Tears pricked in her eyes and an invisible grip seemed to clench inside her chest. Her lips were parched and she couldn't form another sentence. Y/N shook her head, trying not to let the tears fall.

Trevor was only a few steps away, standing in her doorway, and his face softened a bit as he seemed to notice her eyes watering. "Y/N, talk to me. Tell me why."

"It's not obvious?" Her voice was strained, as Trevor’s gaze stared directly into her embarrassed soul. Her hands trembled and she balled her fingers into fists.

"You don't think you owe me an explanation?" His voice was dark again, serious.

She tried not to choke on her words, despite knowing she had just fucked up years of friendship. "Because I'm attracted to you, Trevor." The words hung between them. "And because it turned me on."

Trevor glanced down at his hand. He was still holding her panties, the fabric tight between his fingers. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to relieve the dryness in her mouth. "I've had a crush on you my entire life. You said you didn't like me like that."

"When did I say that?"

"You said it to a couple of friends years ago. They were teasing you for hanging out with me."

"Y/N, I would have been maybe 15 when I said that." When she didn't respond, he sighed. "You never admitted this to me because of something I said when we were kids?"

"When else was I supposed to say it? When you had a girlfriend? When you were done sleeping with some random hook up?" Y/N finally managed to string together a sentence without stuttering, but it was short lived. "I did something stupid and rude tonight, I know that, I'm sorry. But I never wanted to say anything because you're my friend and I didn't want to make things weird."

"So you just rubbed one out on my bed, thinking that wasn't the definition of weird."

The words stung and she felt one of the tears escape from her eye. Y/N wiped a hand across her cheek hurriedly, staring at the floor.

"How often have you done this?"

"Just tonight."

"I'm supposed to believe that? This was the first time and I just happened to catch you?"

Another tear fell. "I'm telling the truth." Y/N went to wipe the second tear, but Trevor stopped her. His fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly, but not painfully. She still winced, but he released her wrist and his hand moved up to her cheek, wiping the tear out from under her eye.

"Do you know how difficult it is for me to listen to a string of guys fucking you from the other side of the hall?" His voice was a low growl.

"You had your own string of women to fuck.” Y/N spat back. Her face burned, angry at her eyes betrayal as another tear slipped down her cheek.

"None of them were you."

Y/N finally looked back up at him, unsure of what to say. He was so close, just inches away from her. When had that happened? His fingers brushed under her eye again, drying her cheek, and the distinct scent of Trevor that had enveloped her on his bed was filling her senses yet again.

"What are you saying?"

"It's not obvious?" Trevor taunted.

Y/N’s body didn't know how to react. Trevor was so close, tantalizingly close, and part of her yearned to press against him. Another part of her wanted to recoil, bury herself in her blankets, and sob at her mortification. It was like being an awkward kid again, when Trevor would tease her until she got angry and tried to storm off, only to tell her he was joking and beg her to stay.

She felt goosebumps rise on her arms as he looked down at her, waiting for her response. Y/N couldn't bring herself to speak and just shook her head, casting her eyes back down the floor.

"Awe, come on, Y/N." The mocking tone to his voice was familiar, but she still didn't know what he wanted to say. "Alright, tell me this. Did you cum on my bed?"

Y/N grimaced, her eyes slamming shut as more tears threatened to leak out. He laughed at her reaction. "Come on. Did you cum?"

"No.” She whispered.

"Why not?"

"You got home before I was done." Even shut, a tear managed to sneak out of her eye. She bowed her head, but again, Trevor’s hand came to her face and wiped the drop off her cheek. He tilted her head up slightly, and she reopened her eyes to look at him.

"All that, and you didn't even finish on my bed?"

"Trevor, please." Y/N’s voice cracked as she tried to hold in a sob. "I'm sorry. Please stop making fun of me."

"I'm just joking." His voice was low, husky, and his body was closer than ever. She could feel his breath on her face. "You have no idea how hot you look when you're embarrassed, but I’m sorry for making you cry."

"Is this happening?" Y/N finally managed to ask.

"Do you want it to happen?"

Y/N nodded. Trevor’s lips were suddenly on hers, his kiss demanding and insistent. She inhaled sharply as his tongue probed her mouth, exploring her lips. The gap between their bodies closed as his arms wrapped around her. His cock nudged against her, already straining against his pants.

A startled gasp escaped her mouth as he bit down on her lip. Y/N’s pulse quickened as his hands explored her body, brazenly groping at her breasts and deliberately rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers. Trevor chuckled against her mouth as she pushed against him, eager for more.

"Stop laughing at me.” Y/N hissed. He responded by pinching her nipple hard, eliciting a high-pitched cry from her.

"I'll laugh at you all I want.” Trevor replied.

His mouth covered hers again, and his hands traveled down her body. Without so much as a moment of hesitation, Trevor slipped his hands down the back of her shorts and cupped an ass cheek in each of his hands. He squeezed, kneading her ass as he pushed against her body, grinding his cock against her.

Teeth grazed her lips again and he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth. Y/N cried out and he sucked harder before letting go. His hands squeezed her ass again, his fingers gripping her hard, before he let go and took his hands out of her shorts.

"Bed.” Trevor said simply.

"Mine or yours?"

He laughed, a wicked look crossing his face. "Yours first." A hard kiss punctuated his sentence. "I've listened to you fuck a million guys in here. Now it's my turn."

A flutter ran through her body at the implication being they’d fuck on his bed later, and another at the idea of Trevor listening to her get fucked from behind the closed door of his room. Y/N directed him to sit on the edge of her bed, then stood in front of him.

"How many times did you listen to me get fucked?" She asked.

His eyes darkened. "Enough to know I could make you cum harder and scream louder than any of them." An arm extended, reaching for her, but she stepped back.

"Were you jealous?" Y/N teased.

"Incredibly."

She bit her lip and toyed with the hem of her tank top. "Did you ever jack off listening to me?" Y/N flushed a bit, her voice going quiet again.

"Almost every time." His voice was earnest, eyes full of honesty and desire. "I imagined you getting fucked in every position you can imagine. Now, can I see if your tits are like what I pictured?"

Y/N swallowed hard, unable to think of a response. Meeting his eyes, she slid the tank top up over her head, revealing her breasts to him for the first time. It was his turn to be speechless for a moment, his eyes savoring the view of her body as she stood half-naked in front of him.

"Are they what you imagined?" She finally asked.

"Better." He reached for her again, and she moved to him like a magnet to metal.

As soon as Y/N was within reach, his hands were on her tits, and she moaned softly as he cupped her breasts in his hands. She let him fondle her for just a moment, before closing the gap between them even further by straddling his lap on the edge of the bed. She steadied herself on his shoulders as Trevor took the opportunity to dip his head down, kissing the top of her breasts.

"You missed your calling as a stripper, you know.” Trevor teased, licking between her breasts.

"Pretty sure you aren't supposed to touch the strippers.” Y/N gasped. His mouth found a nipple as his hands resumed their position on her ass, and he traced his tongue around her nipples, making her shiver. She ran her hands through his hair, holding him against her chest.

"Are you saying I should stop touching you?" He murmured.

"God, no." Y/N rolled her hips against him, and they both groaned as her pussy ground against the length of his cock. The softness of her shorts provided friction against her swollen clit, and she found herself repeating the action again and again as he ravished her breasts.

It clearly was working for Trevor, too, and his mouth left her tits as his head tilted back. Y/N wanted to be greedy; she wanted his mouth back on her nipple and his cock inside her and to cum on him again and again. But she also wanted to hear the noises Trevor would make if she put his cock into her mouth.

Y/N moved off his lap, standing between his legs as she reached down and unbuckled his belt. Trevor’s hands joined hers and he unbuttoned his jeans as she carefully unzipped them. His hips moved up just enough to let her pull his jeans down, and she dropped to her knees as she guided them down his legs.

Once his pants were off, Y/N gripped his cock through his boxers. A small grunt came from his throat as she traced her fingers up and down through the fabric. He was rigid, thick, and hot. From her position kneeling in front of him, she reached up and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers. She thought briefly about going slowly, tantalizing and tenderly revealing his cock, but she was too full of fire to maintain that. Instead, she pulled them down quickly, freeing his cock in one movement.

The stiff appendage jutting out towards her was beautiful. Y/N admired his cock for a moment before flicking her tongue out to taste the pre-cum that dripped from his tip. Trevor exhaled loudly as her tongue made contact, and she took his tip into her mouth in response. Hands came to her head immediately, fingers pulling at her hair as she wasted no time sucking Trevor’s cock.

His breathing came heavily as she bobbed her head, feeling the thickness of his swollen cock filling her mouth. He was quieter than she expected at first, but that changed as he began pulling her hair harder and directing her to take his cock deeper in her throat. His tip pushed against the back of her mouth and she opened her throat as much as she could, swallowing his shaft as she reached up to cup his balls.

Trevor groaned loudly as she did, his hips thrusting forward just slightly. The sounds he was making shot waves of arousal through her body, and Y/N couldn't help but slip a hand into her shorts as she sucked his cock. Her slit was drenched and a soft, humming moan vibrated against Trevor’s dick as she touched herself.

"You look so fucking hot right now."

Y/N glanced up at him, eyes wide as her lips encircled his cock. Trevor looked back down at her, able to just see her hand in her shorts. Her fingers darted into her wet pussy quickly, and she let out another muffled moan against his cock, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Fuck." His hands tightened in her hair as she took him deep in her throat.

Y/N let him thrust into her throat a few more times before pulling back and letting him slip out of her mouth with a wet sound. “I can't wait any longer.” She gasped.

"Good." Trevor helped her up off my knees, pulling her in for another searing kiss as he pushed her shorts down.

Y/N wiggled her hips, letting them fall to the floor, and tugged at his shirt. Trevor removed it swiftly, bringing it over his head and tossing it towards the floor. They shifted onto the bed together, collapsing onto the covers as their arms wrapped around each other and their lips connected again, urgent and breathless. Trevor’s cock brushed against her bare thigh, tantalizingly close to the dripping pool between her legs.

Trevor grabbed her possessively, and he twisted her onto her back, his hands wrenching her legs apart. She half-expected him to sink into her immediately and moved to stop him so she could get a condom, but instead his head dipped down and his mouth nestled against her slit.

Gasping, Y/N arched her back slightly, and Trevor went to work eating her pussy. He lapped at her wetness greedily, his tongue licking along her slit and his mouth buried against her. Feverish moans escaped from her lips with each breath as he concentrated his ministrations on her clit. His tongue danced around her, and the agonizing ascent towards orgasm began in her stomach again. The climbing sensation built and built, the promise of cumming finally within her grasp.

Y/N glanced down at the head between her thighs. An expression of bliss filled Trevor’s face, his eyes closed beneath tousled hair as he feasted on her pussy. "Don't stop.” She begged, her fingers clutching at his hair. "I'm so close. Please, Trevor.”

Trevor could’ve stopped, could’ve continued the intense teasing he'd subjected her to since catching her masturbating on his bed. To his credit, he didn't. Instead, he sucked on her clit while pushing a finger inside her and curling it to hit her G-spot.

The effect was almost instantaneous, and her thighs clamped against Trevor’s head as she came. After such a long wait and the denial of her orgasm from earlier, it was one of the most intense she’d ever experienced. Her back arched as she ground against Trevor’s face, a blistering cry filling the room as her body shook. Heat radiated from her core as she came, writhing against Trevor.

As the heat gave way to a dreamy relief, her legs released Trevor’s head. Y/N slowly became aware of his tongue still gently lapping at her pussy, and that her hands were still entangled in his hair.

"Sorry." Y/N let go of his head, still trying to catch her breath. A gentle kiss was placed on her clit, which was still so sensitive it made her twitch. Then another kiss on top of her mound, and a third above that.

"Never, ever apologize for cumming like that." Trevor’s lips brushed against her skin as he spoke. "That was like magic."

Y/N could only groan in response, her body still overwhelmed with pleasure. He crawled up her body, a look of mock concern on his face. "Did I break you?"

Another groan, and she pulled him down to kiss her. She could taste the slight sweetness of her juice on his lips. "Fuck me.” She mumbled against his mouth.

Trevor didn't reply, just nipped at her lip one last time before pulling back and grabbing her pillow. His hands guided her to her knees and she flipped over, the pillow under her stomach as she propped herself up on her hands and knees. Second later, Trevor was behind her, the tip of his cock probing at her pussy.

"Ready?" Trevor asked, though his voice was struggling, as though he couldn't possibly wait another moment.

Y/N was more than ready. "Fuck me, Trevor.” She ordered.

He buried his cock inside her in a single thrust. Both of them made noises of relief as he finally sheathed his cock inside her, and his fingers dug into her hips as he paused there.

"Fuck, you feel amazing." His voice was husky, gasping.

In response, Y/N pushed her ass back against him. He grunted and thrust back against her, penetrating as deep as he could, and she let out a lustful breath.

"Fuck me.” She begged again.

Y/N wasn't sure how he had held back for so long. When Trevor began to fuck her, there was no stopping him. She squealed as he ravaged her pussy recklessly, shoving his length as deep as he could. The pillow beneath her was excellent forethought, as it wasn't long before her arms could barely support the force of his penetrations and she collapsed onto the bed.

Trevor wasn't having it, though. The fingers digging into her hip on one side left as he hunched over her, pounding inside of her as he reached around and grabbed her breast. Using it as leverage, he pulled her back up, almost lifting her to a full kneeling position. His other hand snaked down to her clit and he fingered it furiously as his mouth found her the back of her neck, nipping the skin there.

Y/N was at his complete mercy as he tunneled inside her, filling her as deeply and roughly as he could. She was sure the entire apartment complex could hear him making her scream. He didn't have me in that position very long, despite how amazing it felt. As gently as he could, Trevor lowered her back onto the bed, pumping inside her harder and harder until she was flat on her stomach with both his hands trapped beneath her. The motion made her aware that another orgasm was approaching, and she tried to hold still as he rubbed her clit.

"Close again.” Y/N moaned. "Shit, Trevor. I'm gonna cum again."

"Fuck, Y/N.” He gasped. "I'm close. Cum for me, baby, c’mon.”

Y/N didn’t know how he did it, whether there was a slight change in the motion of his fingers or if the pinch of her nipple triggered it, but as he ordered her to cum, she did. Trapped beneath his body, she strained against him as she burst over the edge, his cock still impaling her as she rode the waves of pleasure bubbling through her body. It was in that slight moment of blissful mindlessness that she distantly heard Trevor grunt as he came, his frenzied thrusting slowing as he finished.

Trevor’s arms grasped her tightly as his weight pinned her against the bed. Y/N could feel him softening inside her as they both tried to regain their footing in reality. When it became too much, she shifted against him.

"Can't breathe.” Y/N whispered.

"Fuck, sorry." His hands slid out from beneath her and he rolled onto his back.

Y/N drew in a deep breath and flexed her fingers and feet, the tingling sensation from the aftershocks of her orgasm slowly dispelling. Propping herself up on her elbows, she looked uncertainly at Trevor as he laid naked beside her. His head was turned towards her, studying her.

"Is this a thing now?" His voice was sleepy, but reflected the same apprehension she had.

"Do you want it to be?"

Trevor nodded, extending a hand towards her, inviting her to lay closer to him. "Do you?"

"I've wanted this for years." Y/N curled up next to him, their warm skin pressing together.

"Me, too." He laid a kiss on her hair. "Rule one, though. No masturbating on my bed without me."

"Rule two. Don't give me a reason to masturbate without you."

Trevor kissed her hair again. "I won't."

The two cleaned up and crawled back in bed together, both exhausted. As Trevor’s breathing deepened, Y/N told herself to remember to thank Lauren for being his last first date.

#trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x fem!reader #trevor zegras one shot #anaheim ducks

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a-dauntless-daffodil · 18 days

Text

How to react to you longtime girlfriend regaining her angelic wings: a guide by Charlie Morningstar, proud girlfriend of said girlfriend.

Things you SHOULD do with her new wings!

Notice them! (this is easy bc they are BIG and BEAUTIFUL with the soft grey faded colors of an overcast sky right before it rains and gives you an excuse to stay indoors snuggled in soft blankets drinking hot coco together back when everything was simpler and safe which is exactly what getting folded up in them will feel like later and- what? oh right! The list thing, um-)

Complement your girlfriend's wings! Maybe don't overwhelm her with a whole paragraph just yet though. Saying "They look nice!" works perfectly good. (waxing poetic can wait until Alone Time)

GENTLY touch the wings. But not too gently!!! Maybe hold the upper joint place, like a little handshake hello. (the feathers are attached to very VERY sensitive bundles of nerves for feeling out air pressure and drafts and stuff, Vaggie says, but they are TOTALLY NOT TICKLISH supposedly and the reason you shouldn't run your hands across them all nilly-willy whenever you get caught up in how pretty and soft they are is it messes them up and means they need preening again to make flying work right, and THAT'S why she jumps and squeaks about it. She likes keeping things tidy! That's all! No other reason. Noooope)

Things you should NOT do with her new wings!!!!!

Blow a giant raspberry right between them, where the feathers get all small and super extra downy soft, just to see what will happen.

Do the above in the middle of maybe KINDA making out....?

Tell absolutely everyone in the hotel about it directly afterwards.

Thing you WILL end up doing if you complete the above list

Spend the night on the bedroom couch: because you keep remembering the noise she made during the raspberry blowing incident, and giggling yourself and her awake about it.

Wake up in bed anyway: snuggled in your girlfriend's arms the same way you do any time you fall asleep in the wrong place and she has to come find you and carry you back with her so SHE can get some sleep too- only this time she also has WINGS!!! And her wings tuck around you so warm and strong, you'd swear you've felt this every time waking up with her before- only now the feeling is all around you, instead of just wrapped around your heart <3

You're still sleeping on the couch tomorrow though: At LEAST for the first part of the night. Or however long it takes before you stop giggling over hearing your totally an angel very serious former solider and absolutely Not a BIRD girlfriend Squawk.

Things to KEEP doing now your girlfriend has wings again!

Try better next time with the rule following??

Hope you're doing okay so far????

Help her with the preening!!

Stop giggling. Somehow.

Staring at them and spacing out is also okay as long as you say you're "acclimating" yourself to the "sudden change in a core aspect" of your life when someone catches you at it. They won't believe you- But! They'll probably just roll their eyes and let you get back to the staring. Acclimating. Whatever!

Anyway, good luck to whoever needs this! Hope this helps things go smoothly for you, Cherri Bomb!!

Also- Angel Dust, if you've read this far, then PLEASE don't tell Husk. Me and Vaggie PROMISED him not to give you ideas, and we don't wanna get banned from the bar again :(

Sincerely, Charlie Morningstar, princess of Hell, Vaggie's girlfriend (!!!)

Note from Vaggie: You're doing great sweetie. And you're lucky you're cute when you laugh, even in your sleep. P.S. There's no 'supposedly' about it, my wings are NOT ticklshkSkk .... P.P.S. from Charlie: are you suuuure? <3 <3 <3

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #chaggie #silly headcanons #silly ideas #no greater battle has vaggie faced #than charlie's realization she can get Funny Noises out of vaggie by messing with her wings #rest in gay pieces vaggie

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

it's a feeling that's fine - s.h.

Summary: You accidentally climb the wrong fence on the hottest day of May. It turns out to be the best thing that's ever happened to you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no physical descriptions, etc. reader is in a toxic friendship; she's slightly bullied in that indirect mean girl way, but the toxic friendship ends. reader cuts her finger by accident. drinking and drug mentions. fluff, humor, strangers to friends to lovers, summer vibes, so many princess bride references. steve is super duper sweet!!! post s4 volume 2.

A/N: so if you wondered where i've been for the last two months.... it was in a cave writing this fic. i'm really proud of this one; the reader is a little different than how i usually write, but i hope you'll like her all the same :) if you enjoy this fic, please please let me know through comments/reblogs!

divider by firefly-graphics

Today is hot.

Weatherman Dale had said this morning that today is a record high for May. It’s so hot, in fact, that Debbie Wellerman had called you this morning asking if you wanted to come swim in her pool.

You’d asked if you could dig for worms in her yard. She’d sighed and hung up. You hope that means yes. Joan has been in need of some company. Worms would be good for her.

You go around Debbie’s house and stop at the back gate. The Wellermans are kind of mean and they don’t like it when you take too many cucumber sandwiches. To avoid them, you’ve taken to going through the back gate whenever Debbie invites you over. It works pretty well.

Except today, the gate is locked. Which is weird, because Debbie usually leaves it open. It’s how her boyfriend, Brett, sneaks in during the day, and how Brett’s brother, Chet, sneaks in at night.

You’d asked once why the brothers come over separately. Debbie had gotten mad and kicked you out without giving you any ice cream. You don’t ask about Brett and Chet anymore.

The problem is that you’re wearing flip flops, which are not ideal for climbing fences. Or anything, really. You once climbed a jungle gym in flip flops and skinned both knees.

You slip off your flip flops and fling them over the fence. They land a second later, clapping against the ground. The fence is covered in climbing ivy and tiny red flowers you’ve never seen before. You wonder how Debbie made them grow so fast.

The street is empty, which is nice. Sometimes people in Loch Nora like to yell at people who don’t also live in Loch Nora.

The fence wood is hot but not so hot that you can’t touch it. You stick your feet in the little grooves and start to climb. It’s not too high of a fence, but it’s high enough to warn people who don’t belong here.

That’s never stopped you, though.

Getting over is trickier. You expect Debbie to see you by now, but there’s no sound. She must be inside, or maybe she’s out and forgot she’s invited you. She does that sometimes.

Wood dust clings to your fingers and the soles of your feet. When you’re a foot from the ground, you hop down. Then you turn.

There’s no sign of Debbie. There is, however, a boy.

He’s reclined on an inflatable blue ring floaty in the middle of the pool. He wears sunglasses and red board shorts with little white anchors on them.

He has very pretty hair, both on his head and chest. He also has pretty lips. And arms. All of him is pretty, really. You wish you could see his face properly. He probably has a nice face too. Symmetrical and kind.

The area around the pool is paved just like at Debbie’s—only it’s a lot larger than you remember. There's a patch of dirt next to the gate. You go and crouch at the edge. You don't see any worms. Probably because it's so hot. You'd stay underground too if you were a worm.

You stand and turn to look at the boy again. He looks like he might be asleep.

“Did Debbie invite you?” you ask.

The boy shoots up from the floaty. The shift in weight makes him lose his balance and he topples into the water a moment later. The floaty flips with him.

He resurfaces almost immediately, spitting water and rubbing chlorine from his eyes. You squint.

Yes, you were right. He does have a very nice face.

The water comes up to his waist. He pushes his hair back in handfuls, blinking. Then he fishes his sunglasses out with his foot and sets them on his head.

“Can you swim?” you ask.

He stares at you, blinking.

“What?” he says after a beat.

“Can you swim?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah? Yes, of course I can swim.”

"It would be bad luck if you couldn’t.”

His brows furrow.

“Because I can't swim,” you clarify.

“I wouldn’t be in the pool if I couldn’t swim,” he says.

“That’s good thinking.”

You sit at the edge of the pool and dip your calves in. He wades closer until he’s about three feet away.

“How did you get here?” he asks.

“I walked.”

“I mean, how did you get in my backyard?”

“Oh. I climbed the fence.”

You peer closer. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite place him.

“Are you Brett and Chet’s triplet?” you ask. “You’re a lot prettier than them. Did their mother feed you extra vitamins?"

His eyes go wide. “Uh… Brett and Chet Kingsley?”

“Uh-huh. Debbie invites both of them over, but never at the same time.”

“Who's—they don’t have a triplet.”

“That’s good. Three’s bad luck.”

“My house number has a three in it,” he says.

“Don’t step on any sidewalk cracks,” you warn.

He tilts his head, tongue poking out like he’s sizing you up. You let him, focusing on his face instead. He has dark, warm eyes the color of black tea. His shoulders are toned with lots of freckles on them. He looks like a boy who’d like Debbie, not you.

“Is Debbie going to be back soon?” you ask. You don’t want to get attached to a boy who’ll just end up wanting Debbie instead. You've made that mistake before.

“Um… if you’re talking about Debbie Wellerman, she lives on the next block over. I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Oh. You’re the guy who fought the monsters.”

He eyes you warily. “Wh—how do you know about the monsters?”

"Who doesn't?"

Steve opens his mouth, then closes it.

“You can’t tell anyone," he finally says.

You shrug and kick at the water gently.

“I have no one to tell. Debbie doesn’t believe in monsters.”

“She doesn’t believe in giving you a key either, huh?”

“She doesn’t usually lock her gate,” you say.

“Well, this isn’t her gate.”

“Yeah. I like your shorts.”

Steve’s cheeks flush pink.

“Are you getting sunstroke?” you ask.

That turns his cheeks pinker.

“No, no." He coughs. "I’m fine.”

“It’s a record high temperature for May,” you say. “That’s what Weatherman Dale said. The highest it's ever been since 1923."

“Yeah, I heard." He nods. "I didn’t wanna run the AC the whole day so, here I am. My friend Robin was supposed to come over, but I guess she bailed.”

“Robin is a nice name. Is she a bird?”

Steve smiles. “No, she’s a girl.”

“Oh. I thought maybe she was a bird you’d made friends with while fighting monsters.”

“Well.” Steve shrugs. “I did sort of make friends with her while fighting monsters.”

“Robins are good omens. They bring luck."

“Huh.”

You swallow. You’re probably talking too much. That’s what Debbie would say. That’s why boys sneak into her yard and not yours.

"So." Steve puts a hand over his forehead to block the sun. "Debbie Wellerman, huh? You don't seem like the type to be her friend."

"Friends can come from the most unusual places," you say. "Like under a tree or at the bottom of the ocean."

"Have you made many friends at the bottom of the ocean?" Steve asks with a smile.

You hesitate. Is he making fun of you? Sometimes, you can't tell. The people in Loch Nora are good at making fun of you without you knowing.

Steve’s hair has already begun to dry, a little crunchy from the chlorine. He doesn’t look like he’s making fun of you.

"Not many. But that's where I found Joan," you say.

"Joan was at the bottom of the ocean?"

"Kind of. I found her in a pond. Then I found her sister, but I lost her at sea and I couldn't swim out to rescue her. It was a sad day. Joan didn't handle it well."

Steve's brows rise. "Wow. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Joan has been on the incline. I think she's finally ready to get back out there. I wanted to find her company, but I didn't want to disturb your dirt."

“My dirt?”

“Mmhm. I'm trying to make a social club for her."

"Out of dirt?"

"Out of worms."

"Huh."

Steve rests his chin on his arm that's perched on the ledge.

"Your hair is wavy," you observe.

"What? Oh, yeah. I didn't put anything in it."

"Like what? Secrets?"

"No, like, gel. Product."

You nod in realization. "Your hair was so big in school.”

Steve winces. "Yeah. Sorry, I wasn't the best guy back then."

"You were in your chrysalis. You needed time to grow. But then you turned into a butterfly. Or a moth, if you prefer."

"Moths are spooky," says Steve. "They look like they have eyes on their wings."

"Yes. But they're actually friendly. Unless you eat them. Some are poisonous." You lean in, deadly serious. "Don't eat moths."

"Will do."

"No, don't. And warn your Robin too. She might think one looks delicious and meet her doom."

A smile creeps onto Steve's face.

"You're kind of strange," he says. "In the best way possible."

"Thank you."

"Do you want some lemonade?"

"Is it poisoned?"

"What?" Steve startles. "No, of course not."

"No, I suppose not," you say thoughtfully. "You hadn't expected me to climb over your gate, so you wouldn't have had time to poison the lemonade."

Steve stacks one arm atop his other, looking up at you. The ends of his hair have begun to curl. You like it so much.

"What if I pour from the pitcher right in front of you? Will that make you feel better?" he asks.

"You can still put something in my glass," you say. "Or you might have built a tolerance to the poison for this exact moment. Like in The Princess Bride."

"I'm only twenty-one. I would've had to start very young to build a tolerance. Besides, what would be my motivation to poison you?"

You shake your head. "There's no need for motivation. Violent delights. But you've fought monsters, and Lucas Sinclair says you're a good guy. So, yes, I will have some lemonade."

Steve pushes himself out of the pool with ease, dripping water all over the concrete. You stare at the rivulets that hurry down his legs and chest. He has a lot of hair everywhere. You like that too.

He offers his hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Your shoulder bumps his. Steve's skin is warm. He smells like chlorine and something sweeter. Pineapple, maybe.

"You would do very well as a knight," you say. "If I were a princess, I'd want you to commit yourself to me."

Steve makes a weird noise in his throat.

"Uh, th-thanks," he says.

"You're welcome."

"So you, uh, know Lucas?"

"Yes. He lives on my block. His mom gives me rides sometimes."

You step in through the sliding glass door, which puts you directly in the kitchen. The house is at least twenty degrees cooler. You shiver at the sudden temperature change.

"You don't have a car?" Steve asks.

"No."

"You walked from your house to Loch Nora?"

"I took the bus part of the way. Then I walked."

Steve takes two glasses down from the shelf. Then he opens the refrigerator. You sit at the large kitchen island while he pours.

"Debbie Wellerman has a car," Steve says.

"Uh-huh. A Porsche."

A money car, she'd called it when she got it for her sixteenth birthday. Boys love girls with money cars. Maybe that's why boys don't love you.

Steve hands you a glass. You take a long sip. Your mouth puckers and you scrunch your eyes shut as the acid coats your tongue.

"Shit. Not enough sugar?"

You swallow and open your eyes.

"It's wonderful, Steve," you say earnestly.

"You don't have to lie. I saw your mouth screw up."

"I'm not lying. It's the right amount of sour."

Steve takes his own sip. His lips pucker, and he shakes his head.

"Nope. Definitely needs more sugar."

You cradle your glass in your hands. "Don't take mine. She's perfect."

Steve breathes a laugh, returning the pitcher to the fridge. He sits beside you on the island. He's already developing a slight tan. You wonder if more freckles appear the longer he's in the sun.

"Why doesn't Debbie pick you up?" he asks.

"Why would she pick me up?"

"Because that's what nice friends do. And it's unfair to expect you to come all the way here when the buses don't go through Loch Nora."

"Debbie always expects me to come over," you say. "So I do. She doesn't like my house."

Steve frowns deeply.

"I don't mind the walk," you offer, trying to make him smile again.

It doesn't work. Steve takes another sip. His lips purse, red like cherry candy and shiny with lemonade.

"She should meet you halfway more often," he says, dumping his lemonade into the sink.

You trace shapes into the condensation of your glass.

"I wanted to go rollerblading," you say. "But…"

"But what?" he prompts.

"She didn't. Neither did Brett. They wanted to make out in the pool.”

Steve grimaces. “Sounds like a drag.”

“They make weird noises. Like goats at the zoo.”

Steve snorts. You smile and kick your legs, pleased.

“My friends go rollerblading,” he says. “The kids love to skate at the park. You could come with us one day.”

“You have kids?”

“No, I—” Steve shakes his head, chuckling. “Definitely not. No, they’re only a few years younger than me, but me and the other people our age call them kids. They’re part of our little monster-fighting group. Anyway, uh, y'know. Open invite. If you're ever tired of goat noises."

You stare at him for a minute. He seems nervous, and you can't make out why. Nobody's ever nervous around you.

"Okay," you say. "I'd like to meet your kids."

"Cool. Well, um, I can give you my number. We usually meet up on weekends, but once school ends, any day is game."

Your heart rate picks up. You know this part. Only from a distance, of course. But you know what it means when a boy gives a girl his number.

“You want me to call you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I mean, if you want to. I feel like it’s a little forward for me to ask the girl who climbed my fence for her number. So, um, you can call me. Is that cool?”

Steve looks at you and waits. You chew your lip and nod.

“That’s okay.”

He smiles. “Great! I think I have a pen around here somewhere…”

Steve walks around the table to a stationary caddy on the counter and takes out a blue Sharpie. You stick out your arm, palm up.

"Uh…" He looks at you. "I can find a notepad."

"This helps me memorize things better," you say and wiggle your fingers.

"I don't wanna give you ink poisoning."

"You didn't poison me before. You're not very good at it."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

You shrug. "Depends on your aspirations."

Steve hesitates for another second. Then he takes the top of your forearm and begins to write on the soft underside. He writes slowly, which tickles, but you remain still.

He's so close. You're reminded all over again of his hands and warmth and pineapple scent.

Steve caps the marker. You inspect the writing.

"Good penmanship," you say.

"Think so? Robin says it's chicken scratch. But she can't talk—hers is ten times worse."

"It's neat," you say. "But not serial-killer neat. If I were a graphologist, I would give you the all clear."

"Graphologist?"

"A handwriting expert. I would write in my report, 'not a murderer.'"

"Well, that's a relief," Steve says. "I try to keep the murdering to a minimum."

You hum and finish your lemonade in one gulp.

“Thank you for not poisoning me."

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Steve replies through a smile.

His smile makes you nervous. A good nervous, though, like you're about to sled down a big hill.

You push yourself off the stool. Steve gets up with you and opens the sliding glass door for you.

“A very stalwart knight,” you say, and walk over to where your flip flops are.

You throw them back over the gate. They land with a clack on the sidewalk.

You find your footholds on the gate and turn to look at Steve.

“It was nice to meet you, Steve Harrington. Don’t fight any monsters by yourself.”

“Whoa, hang on!” He jogs over and lightly touches your arm. It sears your skin like you've been kissed by the sun himself. “I’ll unlock the gate. You don’t need to… climb again.”

Steve pulls the latch next to you. The gate creaks open. You hop off and walk through.

Steve leans against the gate, elbow bent. His bicep bulges. You've never been this close to a shirtless boy. Your stomach flips.

“Are you sure you know where Debbie lives?” he asks.

Your eyes dart from his chest to his face.

“Yes.”

“Really? ‘Cause you didn’t exactly find it the first time.”

“Second time’s the charm,” you say.

“I thought it was the third time.”

“No. Three’s bad luck, remember?”

Steve runs his tongue under his molars, once again staring at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. You slip into your sandals while he figures you out.

“Well, um. You can come back if you get lost. Or you need help. Or you wanna look for rocks."

You tilt your head. “You’d look for rocks with me?”

“I don’t know how helpful I’d be—all rocks look the same to me. My friends would probably be better at it than me. But, yeah, I would.”

“Okay. Thank you for your hospitality.”

He grins. “Sure thing.”

You take his hand and shake it. It’s warm and slightly calloused. You wonder if he holds girls’ hands often.

"I hope Robin finds your house," you say. "Goodbye, Steve Harrington."

Then you go.

You do find Debbie’s house on the second try. You hide your Sharpie'd arm behind your back when you enter. Debbie doesn’t ask why you’re late. Brett doesn’t acknowledge you, and you wonder how you mistook Steve for his brother.

“There’s lemonade,” Debbie says as she heads in, Brett at her heels.

You don’t drink any. You know it won’t be the right amount of sour.

Movies are better in the summer. This is a fact you've learned to accept.

There's no dread of the cold after you finish a movie in the summer. The tape ends and you can go outside and still love the real world.

Sorry, we're on a break! the sign on the store window reads in loopy script. You sit on the hot curb in front of Family Video, your yellow shorts bunched around your thighs. Sweat sticks to the back of your neck, and you drag a hand across, then wipe your fingers on your shirt.

From here, you can just see the cement-filled cracks in the asphalt, where the earthquake split the main road two years ago. Because of the cracks, the bus stops three blocks from the plaza, so you'd walked three blocks in the heat.

You hadn't been lying to Steve, though. You really don't mind the walk.

Beads of sweat drip down your forehead. One slips into your eye and burns. You make a fist and press it into your eyelid.

Okay. Maybe you mind a little.

"Hey, neighbor!"

You look up, squinting through the sun. Lucas Sinclair waves at you. You wave back. A girl with two red braids is next to him.

"Hi, Lucas," you say, standing as they approach you on the curb.

"This is my girlfriend, Max," he introduces proudly.

"My congratulations. Getting a girlfriend is no easy feat."

Max studies you for a moment. "I think I should get the credit, considering I said yes."

"Undoubtedly," you say.

"Are you his neighbor?" she asks.

"Yes. Lucas is an outstanding neighbor. You should be very proud of him."

"I believe it," says Max.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks.

"Lots of things," you say. "Breathing, digesting. But presently, I'm waiting for the video store to reopen. I want to rent The Princess Bride.”

Max snorts. "Good luck with that. Those two take five hour lunch breaks now, ever since Keith moved away. It's barely a business anymore."

"There must be a lot of courses in their lunch," you muse.

"Yeah… uh, we're going to get ice cream. Wanna join?" asks Lucas.

"Okay." You turn to Max. "Will my presence impede your special plans?"

Max squints. "Special plans? Like what?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you've written Lucas a series of sonnets to profess your love."

"A series of what?"

"Poems."

"Love poems are corny," she says.

You wonder if Steve would agree.

"Sometimes corny things are good. When they come from the right person," you say.

Max acquiesces with a hum.

"No love poems today," she says. "You should join us."

So you follow a couple steps behind them to the Baskin-Robbins down the block.

The AC whooshes as you step inside, drying your sweat to your forehead.

“Wow,” Max says with a scoff. “It’s like Starcourt all over again.”

You follow her gaze and spot Steve.

Oh. Steve.

He's in a green Family Video vest. A girl sits across from him, wearing a matching vest. She has cropped hair and a bandaid on one knee.

“Hey, losers!” Max calls. “This isn’t a lunch break.”

The girl flips her off. “The sign says we’re taking a break. It doesn’t specify how long of a break.”

Lucas orders a scoop of strawberry ice cream for himself and a scoop of cookies and cream for Max.

“Yeah, plus, we’ve had a grand total of one customer today,” Steve adds.

“Well, you would’ve had two if you hadn’t been here on your seventeen hour break,” Max shoots back.

He scoffs. “Oh, really? Who?”

“Can I get one scoop of rocky road ice cream with oreo crumble and gummy worms in a cup?” you ask the cashier.

She goes to scoop the ice cream. Max proudly points at you.

“Her,” she says with a smirk. “She wanted to rent The Princess Bride, and now she’s not gonna be a paying customer ‘cause you two are lazy.”

“I would still be a paying customer,” you say.

Max shakes her head at you.

“I’m trying to make a point,” she whispers.

“Oh. You’re doing great."

“Your total is three twenty-four,” the cashier says, sticking a spoon into your cup.

The sound of a chair being dragged across the floor draws your attention. Steve is up, trying to free his leg from under the table. He finally wiggles free and jogs to the counter, wallet in hand.

"Hi,” he says. "I can pay."

“But I have money,” you say, brows knitting.

“No, I know. I—now you can save your money. Do you–do you mind if I pay for you?”

“Will I have to pay you back?” you ask.

“Oh my God,” the cashier mutters under her breath.

You shrink at her tone. You've missed something, evidently. You have no clue what.

Steve glances at her, mouth pinching.

“No,” he says gently, turning back to you. “You don’t have to pay me back. It’s a gesture. As a friend.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Steve gives her the money. You take your ice cream.

“Smooth,” you hear Max say to Steve. He bumps her arm with his elbow.

Steve pulls a chair from another table for you. You all sit down.

"This is, uh…" Steve trails off, turning to you. "I'm sorry, I never got your name."

"You kept calling her Buttercup," the girl says.

Steve whips his head around to hiss at her.

"Robin."

"She's my neighbor," Lucas says.

"We know," Max tells him.

"I don't." Robin raises her hand briefly, shooing Steve away. "I'm Robin Buckley."

"Hi, Robin. Watch out for moths," you say.

She tilts her head and smiles. You look at Steve, who's already looking at you.

"Princess Buttercup?" you ask.

"Well." He rubs the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah, kinda. You mentioned The Princess Bride and, uh, I don’t know your name, so…”

You mull that over.

"If I'm Buttercup, you must be Westley."

Steve's eyes widen. "Uh…"

Robin snickers. Max smirks.

"Interesting shade of red you're turning, Westley," Robin says.

"Shut—"

He kicks her chair leg. She yelps and shoves him in retaliation. Max rolls her eyes.

"Have some class, will you?" she says.

"I'm classy!" Steve insists.

"Not anymore," Lucas says gravely. "Now you're a glorified babysitter."

"Childcare is dutiful work," you say.

Steve grins at you. Your stomach flutters.

“Is that a mud pie?” he asks.

You nod.

“Gummy worms?”

You tilt your head. “How did you know?”

Steve chuckles. “Lucky guess.”

Across the table, the others argue about the classiest ice cream flavors.

“It’s obviously mango sorbet.”

“Sorbet isn’t ice cream!”

“Are they your kids?” you ask.

Steve leans in so you can talk in his ear. His arm is on the back of your chair. If you shift the slightest inch, you’d feel him.

“Minus Robin. Though, sometimes…” He rolls his eyes playfully. “But, um, yeah. Two of them.”

“How many kids do you have?” you ask.

“Let’s see…” Steve counts on his fingers. “Six?”

“Wow. You must be some babysitter.”

“I’m alright.”

You lean in. Steve blinks.

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“You have an eyelash.”

You swipe the hair off his cheek and hold your finger in front of his mouth.

“You have to make a wish.”

Steve’s eyes slide to you. He gently holds your hand in place. Your heart beats faster.

“‘Kay.” He blows the eyelash away, but doesn't release your hand. “Let’s see if it comes true.”

The numbers stare at you. Taunt you, really.

You practically have them memorized. You’d written them thirty times on a piece of notebook paper. Then you’d shoved that under your bed.

Now you have it taped to your dresser mirror.

You wish you could talk to Joan about it, but she’s bathing in the sink after an unfortunate encounter with a paint can.

The Sharpie is gone from your arm, has been gone for several days now. But if you concentrate, you can see its silhouette on your skin.

You get up and peel the paper off the mirror. Then you go down the hall to your phone.

Carefully, you dial, making sure not to press any wrong buttons.

The phone rings. You rock on your toes.

“Hello?” Steve says.

You freeze.

“Hellooo…?”

“Hi,” you finally say. “It’s Buttercup.”

“Oh!” He sounds so happy. “Hey! Hey, how are you?”

“Good.” You chew on a cuticle. “It’s Saturday.”

“Oh, right! Did you wanna go rollerblading?”

Relief floods you. He remembers.

“Yes. If you’re planning it.”

“I haven’t talked to the kids, but I’m sure they’d be down.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I can pick you up in twenty?"

“I can walk.”

“C’mon, in the sun? You live on the same street as Lucas anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Well.” You twirl the telephone cord around your finger so tightly, it threatens to cut off your circulation. “Okay… if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble,” Steve promises. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

You hang up and run to your room to dig for your skates. They’re stuffed under your bed next to a mini gumball machine. You shove two green gumballs in your mouth and race to the bathroom to check on Joan, nearly slipping on the wood.

“I’m going out, Joan. I think he might… he might like me.” You crunch on the gumball shells and shudder. “What a terrifying thought.”

You pull out the drain stopper and set Joan on a washcloth to dry. Then you go down the hall to put on your sneakers.

Steve arrives five minutes early. You only know that because you spend the whole time watching the road from your curtained window. You shake your hands out, overwhelmed with nerves.

It’s just a boy. He’s only a boy.

The two of you meet halfway. Steve jogs backwards, unusually skillful, and opens the passenger door for you.

“Hey. Does Joan want to come?” Steve asks.

You shake your head. “She’s having a spa day. It’s just me.”

“Well, I’m happy to have you,” he says, sweet and earnest.

You duck inside the car and shake your hands a little, trying to fend off the returning nerves. Just a boy.

“So, that’s El,” Steve says as he gets into the driver’s seat, pointing to a girl with short curls. “And you know Max and Lucas.”

Max nods at you with a smile. Lucas waves.

“Hi, El,” you say. “Cool hair.”

“Thank you,” she says, voice soft. “I like your skates.”

“I found them at a yard sale. You can find anything in a yard.”

"Okay," Steve says. "Everybody buckled?"

“Yes, Mom,” Max mumbles.

Steve catches your gaze and rolls his eyes. You smile.

Briefly, you worry you’ll have to fill the silence and talk about yourself, like people expect you to. But Steve and the kids hold conversation easily. They talk about anything and everything.

They're more energetic than you're used to; Debbie always prefers it to be quiet.

But you don't mind it. You don’t feel lonely like you do when you’re with Debbie.

“Alright, please stay within this area,” Steve says when he parks and everyone gets out. “Within—”

“Shouting distance!” Max yells. “Yeah, we know!”

The park isn't crowded. Most of the paths are clear, so skating will be no problem.

Max gets out two skateboards from the trunk.

“Max is going to teach me how to do an ollie,” El informs you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you say. “I want to master my yard skates.”

She nods and follows the others to the small skate park on the other side of the trees.

You bring your skates to a bench and sit, lacing them up your feet. Steve is a few feet away, swinging his arms slightly.

“Aren’t you going to join them?” you ask.

“Oh, uh, no. I brought my own skates… I thought maybe we could skate together, if that’s okay?”

“Yes, I would like that,” you say.

Steve beams. “Alright, cool. I’ll go get mine.”

You stand, about to take a step forward—and immediately slip.

Steve reacts instantly, lunging to catch you. One hand grabs your elbow, the other on your stomach. You squeal and cling to his shirt.

“Are you okay?” he asks, helping you stand upright.

“I’m okay,” you say, breath caught in your throat.

You take a step but your foot wobbles. Steve grabs you again. You don’t try to take another step.

“I thought skating would be intuitive,” you say, rolling one skate to test.

“What?”

You look up. Steve’s face is inches from yours. His hair is golden in the sunshine. His eyes lock on your own; his focus sends a jolt of electricity down your spine.

“You know, like how babies are able to swim for the first six months of their lives?”

“Uh…” Steve tilts his head. “No?”

“Oh. Because they were in the womb, they have that ability. ‘Cause they float around in there for nine months, you know? But then they lose it. That’s why we have to learn how to swim.”

“Wow. That’s a cool fact.”

Nobody ever thinks your facts are cool. But Steve does.

“Well, I thought skating would be similar,” you say. “I’ve watched other people skate, so I thought I’d just… do it. I guess I lost that at six months too.”

Steve’s smiling. It’s a gentle smile, though. Not a teasing smile.

“I see,” he says. “I’m sorry for your disappointment.”

“It’s alright. Life is far more than disappointment. No use getting hung up on it.”

“Do you want me to teach you how to skate?” he asks. “I promise I’m good at it. Coach Collins said I could’ve seriously pursued it.”

“So skating for you is like avoiding death for Westley,” you say.

“Actually, I’m pretty good at avoiding death too,” Steve says. “And making grilled cheeses.”

“Triple threat.”

He ducks his head with a laugh, and you feel the warmth of it flow through your own body.

“Sure. Can’t make lemonade for shit, though.”

“I think your lemonade is perfect, Steve Harrington.”

His cheeks are scarlet again. It’s quickly becoming your favorite color.

“I would like it if you taught me,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll get my skates after you get the hang of it. Put your hand on my arm, right here.”

Steve pats his forearm. Carefully, you do as he says.

“I’m nervous,” you confess.

“I got you,” Steve says, cheek brushing your head. “I won’t let you fall, Buttercup.”

Saint Aloysius’ parking lot has the best rocks.

You've never told anybody as much because you imagine the lot would get busy, and you like it empty.

Today, you're searching for a brother for Joan. Ever since that tragic day at Macinaw Island, Joan's been very lonely. It‘s hard being a sisterless sister.

Joan is smooth and round, so you look for an equally smooth and round brother. Commonality is important.

Your knees hurt from squatting, so you sit. The rocks poke your butt.

You hear a car rolling up the hill, engine a soft purr. You stop and turn.

The car is maroon and shiny, with only a couple slight scratches you can't notice unless you look really hard. You don't recognize the license plate, although you have yet to start your record of Hawkins plates.

It putters to a stop in front of Giovanni's Bakery across the street. The car doors open.

"I'm losing my edge, Robs! I made a damn fool of myself. I can't even—"

"Okay, first of all, I feel like we're glossing over the fact that you don't even know this girl. And what she did was technically trespassing."

"Do you know her name?" another voice pipes up.

"No, Dustin, I don't know her name. I don't even know if she lives in Hawkins!"

Their voices disappear as they go inside the bakery. You find Joan a brother, Jack, and Jack finds a wife named Gwen. Gwen isn't smooth and round; she's sharp-edged and will be harder to clean, but she's a muted salmon color and you think she's pretty. You hope Jack will find her pretty too.

As you dig through the pile of rocks, your finger catches on the edge of a broken bottle. It slices your finger. Blood swells immediately.

You put your new rocks in your plastic red pail with your other hand. Then you stand, joints popping as you do so. You stick your ribs out and bend your spine in a stretch.

You cross the street to the bakery, pail in hand. The bell jingles as you enter. You hum the ding-dong under your breath.

"Can I help you?" the man behind the counter asks.

"Hello. Can I have five baci di dama and five of the raspberry sandwich cookies?"

He goes to the display case with a paper bag. You rest your elbows on the counter, pail handles over your arm.

"Anything else?"

"Yes. Do you have a bandaid? I'm bleeding."

The man purses his lips. "No bandaid, sorry."

"That's okay. Just the cookies, then."

"Buttercup?"

You turn. Steve stands before you, wearing his Family Video vest. Robin is beside him, her hair piled into a windblown bun on her head. Another boy, shorter than both, younger, is with them. He waves at you, curls bouncing.

You wave back. Robin squeals.

"Oh my God, what happened to your finger?" she asks, horrified.

"There was a broken bottle in the parking lot."

"Jesus," Steve says. He takes your hand and inspects it. He's so close and warm. All you can do is stare at the freckles on his neck.

“Why were you in the parking lot?” he asks.

“I was looking for rocks. This is the best rock spot in all of Hawkins. Well, after Lover’s Lake. But the pH has been abnormally high there. Probably because of the monsters. So I came here.”

"Hi, I'm Dustin," the boy introduces. “Is your finger okay?”

"Hi, Dustin. I think I’ll survive,” you say. “Dustin means brave warrior in Norse.”

Dustin beams. “Yup. I was named after my grandfather. He served in World War Two.”

"Names are important,” you say. “Joan agonized for days deciding what I should call her. Eventually, I decided for her. A name says a lot about a person. Steve has a warrior and good luck at his side."

"Yep, Steve-o here is pretty blessed to have us. And," he gestures to you, "You are?"

"Hungry," you say, taking your bag of cookies with your free hand.

The bag crinkles as you open it. You hold it out to Steve.

"Do you want one? I promise they’re blood-free.”

"Uh…” He glances at your hand. “Are you sure your finger is okay?”

“She’s a trooper. Survived ink poisoning and everything.” You wave the bag again. “Cookie?”

Steve takes a baci di dama out and pops it into his mouth. He hums as he chews, nodding.

"'S good," he says after he swallows.

"Baci di dama means lady's kisses in Italian," you say.

His cheeks turn pink again.

"You should drink more water," you add. "You turn pink easily."

Robin snorts. Steve holds a hand to his cheek.

"Uh, thanks."

“You’re welcome. Robin, would you like a cookie?"

"No, thanks,” she says. “I'm picking up a tiramisu for my mom's birthday."

"I want a cookie!" Dustin says.

"Dude," Steve hisses.

You hold the bag open to Dustin. He takes a raspberry sandwich cookie.

"So," Dustin says, mouth full. "Are you Steve’s girlfriend or something?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you say.

“Du-ude!” Steve says too loudly, voice climbing in pitch.

“What? You talk about her all the freakin’ time. I needed to know.”

You look at Steve. He rubs the back of his neck and half-smiles.

“Anyway,” continues Dustin. “How do you know Steve?”

"I climbed over his gate by accident on the hottest day of May,” you say.

"By accident?"

"Yes. All the gates in Loch Nora look the same. Except Steve's gate has climbing ivy and little red flowers. It's much nicer than the other houses. It looks like a person lives there. I mistook it for Debbie's gate."

Robin tilts her head at you. You don't care what Steve says; she's a one hundred percent bonafide bird.

Dustin points to your pail, crumbs all over his chin. "Why do you have rocks?"

"They're for Joan," you say.

"Joan? Is she your friend?"

"She's more like my confidante. She doesn't talk much, so I think it'd be presumptuous of me to call her a friend when I have no idea where we stand."

"Navigating friendships can be hard," Steve offers.

"Yes," you say. "They can be."

"Being straightforward can help a lot," he continues. "It, uh, at least helped me. That way the other person knows what you mean. No room for miscommunication."

You nod. "That's good advice. I'll have to try that with Joan. Sometimes she can be kind of hard-headed."

You roll up your bag of cookies and reposition your pail on your arm so the metal doesn't dig into your skin.

"It was nice to meet you, Dustin," you say. "Goodbye, Steve and Robin."

"Wait!"

Steve holds the door for you and follows you out. He still smells sweet, like pineapple, and also a little woody. He touches the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity down your spine.

"I have a first aid kit in my car. Let me wrap your cut."

"Oh." You'd forgotten about it. "Okay."

You follow Steve to his car. He pops the trunk and rummages. You spot a bat with nails.

"Very inventive," you say, pointing at the bat.

Steve laughs shyly. "Yeah, uh, the monsters."

"I definitely wouldn't want to fight you if I were a multi-dimensional monster."

He smiles and takes out a small spray bottle of disinfectant.

"This is gonna sting, okay? But we need to make sure nothing gets infected."

"An infection would be unfortunate," you say. "I'm quite attached to this finger."

He sprays and cleans your finger. You wince and Steve squeezes your wrist in apology. Then he pulls out bandaids.

"Any preference? I have rainbow, Star Wars, 'cause they're all a bunch of nerds, cats… oh, I have flowers! ‘Cause you’re, uh, Buttercup, you know?"

"Flowers," you say, because Steve's so excited about it.

He nods and opens the bandaid. You hold out your finger and Steve carefully wraps it. He rubs your knuckle.

"Thank you," you say.

"You're welcome. Be careful, okay?"

"I will."

He closes the trunk, swinging his keys on his finger.

"Sorry if that was awkward, by the way," he says. "Dustin, I mean. He can be… blunt."

"It wasn't awkward."

“It wasn’t?”

“No,” you say. “I’m happy you tell people about me. I tell Joan about you all the time.”

"Oh." He nods. "That—that’s good. So… we’re both… uh—”

"Do you want another lady's kiss?"

"What? Oh—" Steve clears his throat. "N-no, that's okay. Thanks."

You take out a raspberry cookie and bite into it.

"Your hair has product," you observe.

"Yeah. No secrets, though."

"Everybody's hair has secrets."

"Even yours?" he asks.

"Especially mine."

Steve rubs the back of his neck. You open your bag and take out another cookie. He looks like he's trying to find the right words to say. You don't mind waiting.

"Hey, do you like barbecue?" he asks.

"I like it as well as anybody else."

"Well, um, I'm having a barbecue this Saturday. Lucas won a big championship game and so we're celebrating his win."

"That's nice," you say. "Congratulations to Lucas."

"Yeah! So, um, did you maybe want to come too? It'll be at my house. You could bring a friend if you wanted. Like Joan."

"Joan is a vegetarian," you say. "But I'm sure she'd enjoy the company."

Steve smiles. He has such a pretty smile.

"We're ordering pizza too, so Joan can have some of that."

"You're a very thoughtful host.”

Then you have a terrible thought. But you have to ask it because if you don't, you might be breaking some kind of invisible expectation. You do that a lot.

"Does Debbie have to come?" you ask.

Steve blinks. "Uh, no? It's not a requirement."

"Some people ask me to parties because they want Debbie to come."

Steve frowns. "That's rude. I wouldn't do that."

"Okay. What time does the barbecue begin?"

"You can stop by anytime. But we'll probably start eating around six."

You nod. "Joan and I will be there at five thirty."

Steve's answering grin is blinding. He must be really excited to meet Joan. You get it; Joan's the life of any party she attends.

"Great, that's great. I'll see you then."

"Bye, Steve," you say.

"Bye," he answers like he's out of breath.

Even the way he breathes is pretty.

Every month, Miles Stanwick throws a party.

Miles is a celebrity in Hawkins, his father being a state senator, and Miles is, according to a drunk Debbie, “the Gatsby to her Daisy.”

You're pretty sure Debbie hasn't read the book. Or maybe she's a living tragedy. Either is possible.

It had been just you two in her room, without the Other Debbie she pretends to be to impress the people of Loch Nora, when she'd told you what it meant to be in love.

"You just know," she'd said, her breath reeking of tequila.

You'd turned your head. Tequila made your nose itch.

"But you love Brett," you'd said.

"Brett is who I'll marry," she'd corrected. She’d sounded so sad. "Miles is all I've got."

Then she'd thrown up all over her carpet. You'd helped her into bed and made a mental note to find her a friend like Joan to keep her company, for when you weren't around.

You don't like parties. They're loud and smelly and usually filled with people you don't like or don't know. And at a party, people you don't like and people you don't know are one and the same.

You would leave, but Debbie is your ride tonight. So you're stuck here until midnight, maybe even later.

Someone plugs in a karaoke machine and that gets most of the party's attention. The music is horribly loud and is the kind that’s just a lot of synthesizer.

A guy jumps onto the Stanwicks' coffee table and knocks over the potpourri dish. Dried petals and orange peels scatter across the carpet.

Debbie appears in front of you, a red Solo cup in her hand.

"What did I bring you here for?" she asks, mouth curled. "To slump on the couch?"

"No one here wants to talk," you say.

Debbie rolls her eyes. "Parties aren't for talking. They're for drinking and making out. Someone's rolling a blunt in the den. Go suck on that, will you?"

The people in Loch Nora are so good at making you feel two inches tall. You wish you'd brought Joan. She'd know what to do.

You've tried alcohol before. Champagne at a wedding. A sip of rum from the Wellermans' liquor cabinet, back when Debbie wasn't so caught up in being just like everyone else.

Maybe it's your fault, too. Maybe you're too good at standing out.

You go to the kitchen. It's already trashed. You step over a spill on the floor. Then you turn around and lay down some paper towels so no one will slip.

There are various bottles of strong liquor strewn across the counters. You decide to try the punch and fill your cup to the top. You sniff it and your nose wrinkles at the whiff of alcohol.

You so badly want to have fun. You want to know what makes all of this worth it. You want your friendship with Debbie to be worth it.

You down the punch in one go. It makes you cough and you scramble for water at the sink. You wonder if the punch is poisoned.

You wobble out of the kitchen a couple minutes later, head already woozy. A girl stands with a drink, one arm folded.

"Where's Debbie?" you ask. The girl winces and steps away from you.

"She went with Miles and some other people to the lake."

Your eyes widen. "No, they can't. There's monsters."

She looks at you like you might be an insect splattered on her dashboard.

"You're Debbie's weird friend, aren't you?"

Weird doesn't make you feel good, like Steve calling you strange did. Weird makes you feel like when a boy in sixth grade stepped on your heels while going up the stairs because he thought it was funny.

"Debbie would've told me," you say.

The girl shrugs. "Guess she ditched you. She can't score with Miles if you're killing the vibe."

Weird tastes like poison in your mouth.

"Debbie was my ride," you say, but she’s already gone.

Your head aches. You try to think on what to do next. It's nearly midnight. No one is awake, and you have no idea how to call a cab.

You find the Stanwicks' phone in the hall and dial the only number you know, besides your own, and the local pizzeria.

"Hello?"

You lean against the wall, phone in both hands.

"Uh, hello? Who is this?"

"H-hi, Westley." Your voice cracks.

"Hey," Steve says, unbearably gentle. "My favorite rock girl. Jesus, it's… midnight."

"I'm sorry," you say.

"No, no, it's alright. I'm just—is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Debbie ditched me."

Silence. For a moment, you panic that the line's dropped.

"Steve?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm, um, at Miles Stanwick's. The address is… well, I don't remember, but I'll go outside and look for the house number—"

"I know it," Steve says. "Stay right there. I'm coming to get you. Don't drink any more."

Your lip wobbles. "'Kay."

"It's okay," he soothes. "Drink some water. Don't take anything from anybody."

"I just wanted to be fun," you blurt.

"You are fun, Buttercup. Way more fun than anybody at that house, I guarantee it. I'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Steve," you say, no longer feeling so small.

You hang up and go to the kitchen to get more water from the sink. Then you return to the hallway and sit, back against the wall, knees tucked into your chest.

You doze, lids heavy from the alcohol. The next thing you know are two hands on your arms.

You jolt awake. One hand cradles the back of your head so you don't thump it against the wall.

"Hey, hey." Steve kneels in front of you. He brushes your cheek with a cool knuckle. "It's me, it's Steve. Are you okay?"

His hands are cool against your overheated skin. He smells like lemon shampoo.

"My knight," you say.

"I thought Westley was a pirate."

“He was only pretending."

You let Steve ease you up. His car keys dig into your hip.

"Ow," you say dazedly.

"What? What hurts?"

"Keys."

"Oh." Steve shifts you to his opposite side, hand on your back. "Sorry, honey."

"Honey never spoils," you say. "Did you know that? You could dig up honey from a tomb that's thousands of years old and as long as it was stored in an airtight container, it's good to eat."

"I love that you know that."

"Do you really?"

"I really do," Steve says. "C’mon, let's get you home."

Outside, the moon is a dot of cream in the purple sky. The neighborhood is quiet. Most of the houses are also dark.

"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you say.

"Don't be. I'm glad you called me. These parties can get out of hand."

"Debbie left. She went to Lover's Lake with Miles—"

The panic returns, flooding your body. You squirm and Steve tries to keep you steady.

"Whoa, what's—"

"The monsters! There's monsters down there, Steve. I don't like Miles, but I don't want him to be eaten!"

"No, no, no more monsters," Steve assures you. "They can't come through there anymore."

You still. "Promise?"

"I promise."

He helps you into the passenger seat of his car. Steve leans in and pulls the seat belt over you.

"Comfy?" he asks.

"I like you so much, Steve Harrington."

It's too dark to tell, but you suspect he's got another case of sunstroke.

"I, um, like you too, Buttercup. You're really cool."

"Me?" You wave your hand. "No."

"Really," he insists. "You are. The coolest."

If you were Debbie, if you weren't weird in the wrong way, if you didn't go to parties to talk, and if you fit a million other criteria you never will, Steve would kiss you right now. Or maybe you'd kiss him.

But you don't know how to go about that. You don't think it's your right to do such a thing.

So Steve shuts the door and walks around to the driver's seat. You stare at your flower bandaid.

"Four three's," Steve says as he turns the ignition.

You turn your head. "Hmm?"

"The house number. Four three's. That's gotta be, like, astronomically bad luck, right?"

"Without a doubt."

Except you're here with Steve Harrington, and he calls you honey and thinks you're cool. And that doesn't seem like bad luck at all.

"I'm going to a barbecue," you call out.

There's no reply. You close the door behind you.

Joan sits in your pocket. You've tied a purple ribbon around her head, right above her googly eyes. You don't know what the dress code is for a barbecue, but you hope she's not underdressed.

You haven’t spoken to Steve since Miles’ party. You’re not sure what you should say, and you can’t bear the thought of calling him to hear silence.

Even if he doesn’t like you the way you like him, you hope he’ll still be friends with you. Steve and his kids have grown on you. You don’t know if you can go back to who you were before the hottest day of May.

“Material Girl” plays from inside Steve's backyard. You mouth the words as you fling your flip flops over the gate.

"What the fuck?" someone says from the other side.

You climb the gate and shimmy down. It's a good thing you're wearing shorts under your dress.

A boy, lanky and tall but probably Lucas's age, holds one of your flip flops. He stares at you and shakes the shoe.

"Is this yours?"

"Both of them are," you say. "Does Steve like Madonna?"

He grimaces. "Unfortunately."

"Cool."

You spot Steve sitting on one of the deck chairs with Robin and a boy your age with big, curly hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt with cropped sleeves.

"Venus" plays next and you wobble in time with the music as you walk over to Steve.

"Her weapons were her crystal eyes," you whisper. The pavement is warm under your toes.

"Making every man mad."

Steve turns just as you reach him. He stands so fast he shakes the chair.

"Hey!" he says. He sounds out of breath again. "Hey, you came."

"You invited me," you say.

"Yeah, yes." Steve nods. "I did. I'm glad you're here."

"You play good music."

"Ha!" Steve whips his head to look at the curly haired boy. "Suck it, Munson."

"She's obviously biased."

"Munson," you say. "Eddie Munson?"

Eddie freezes under your gaze. Robin and Steve glance at you.

"Yeah, uh, that's me." Eddie smiles weakly. "Look, you might've heard some stuff abou—"

"You helped fight the monsters," you interrupt. "You're very brave."

Eddie's eyes widen. "I—"

"Most people just like to ignore monsters. It takes a really good person to fight them." You turn to Steve. "Do you have orange Fanta?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll get you a can. Feel free to sit… where are your shoes?"

You point behind you. "Your bodyguard had to screen them after I climbed your gate. You have very tight security."

"After you climbed my… wait, Mike? God, I’m sorry about him. I'll get your shoes back."

"It's okay. Flip flops are dangerous weapons. It's only a matter of time before the airport bans them."

Steve tilts his head, eyes warm. "Right. I'll be back. That's Eddie and Robin… you know them."

"I know their names, and that's about all you can know about anybody."

Eddie giggles. You look at him. He doesn't seem to be laughing at you, so you sit where Steve was sitting, across from Eddie's chair. You point at his shirt.

"I like Kashmir."

"Thank God! Somebody with decent tastes."

"I'll listen to anything," you say. "It's important to be a good listener."

Eddie grins. "Words of the wise."

"Where's Joan?" Robin asks.

"Right here." You take Joan out of your pocket and set her down on the edge of the pool chair.

"Sick," Eddie says.

You nod. "The ribbon was my pick."

"I like it," Robin says.

"Thank you."

Steve returns with an orange Fanta for you and a root beer for Robin.

Robin points to Joan. "Steve, this is the famous Joan we've heard so much about."

"That's a rock," says Steve.

"Yep."

"Oh." He nods in understanding. "Joan is your pet rock?"

"Confidante," you correct. "’Pet’ is demeaning."

"Got it. And was Joan's sister also your confidante?"

"No. Joan's sister didn't like me much. She thought I was a bad influence on Joan. But we shouldn't talk about it now. Joan gets very sad when I bring it up."

You open your can. The carbonation hisses. It's itchy and sweet on your tongue.

"I like your hair," you say. "It's fluffy. Like it was on the hottest day of May."

Steve pushes a couple strands behind his ear.

"Thanks. The gel is too much on hot days like these. Weighs me down."

"At least you won't float away." You look at Eddie. "Is your hair full of secrets too?"

Eddie ruffles his hair. "Not as many as Steve's, but I've got a couple in here. 'S what gives my curls volume."

"Hm. Just as I suspected," you say.

"Ste-eve!" Dustin whines from across the yard. "You promised burgers!"

Steve rolls his eyes. "You'd think he's never been fed in his life."

Eddie pats his shoulder. "You've got this, Harrington."

"Oh, no. You wanna eat, you've gotta earn your keep. Come on."

Eddie groans, flinging himself off the chair. "Save me, Buckley!"

"Already did that," she says, pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes. "Never again."

"You should tie up your hair so it doesn't catch fire," you suggest.

"Well, at least somebody cares about me," Eddie declares, pulling his hair into a ponytail.

Steve turns to you and smiles softly.

"Are you hungry? You can have the first pick of the burgers."

"Won't Dustin be annoyed?"

Steve shrugs. "Kid could use some manners. Besides, pretty girls always get the first pick. It's the law."

You follow Steve and Eddie to the grill, pretty girl echoing in your brain the whole time.

Eddie's hair doesn't catch on fire and Steve makes you a perfect burger. The sun sparkles on the pool surface. The kids come out to eat and, predictably, Dustin complains about not getting the first burger.

"Not fair. Just 'cause she's your girlfriend," he mumbles as he goes off to search for the mustard.

You check to see if Steve had heard the comment. He doesn't seem to have; you can't decide if you're relieved or not.

The chairs are all taken by the time you finish fixing up your burger. Steve stands immediately as you approach.

“Here, take my seat,” he says.

“We can share,” you offer.

Steve lets you take the back of the chair, settling at the foot. “You Make My Dreams Come True” plays on the speakers.

“Whoever made this mixtape is a genius,” you announce.

“You like it?” says Steve. “I actually made this one. Robin and Eddie think my taste sucks, but—”

“It’s spectacular.”

He hums, ducking his head shyly. “Well, speaking of spectacular: I made more lemonade, if you want to test it before I unleash it upon the masses.”

“I’ll happily drink your lemonade,” you say. “It’ll build my iocane tolerance.”

Steve grins. “I rented The Princess Bride, by the way. I know you meant to get it a few weeks ago. We can watch it tonight, if you want.”

“You remembered I wanted to watch it,” you say.

He nods. “Well, uh, yeah. Do you still want to? If you don’t, I can—”

“I do,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve stands, hand outstretched so you’ll give him your empty plate. “I’m going inside. Anybody want anything?”

“Doritos!” Robin shouts.

“Napkins, please,” El says.

“Cherry Coke!” Mike calls.

“Beer!” Eddie whoops.

“Doritos, napkins, got it. The cooler is right there, Wheeler, and are you kidding, Eddie? No drinking by the pool. Have we not learned our lesson from the last four years?”

“Bold of you to assume I’ve learned anything, Steven.”

“Can you bring us popsicles?” Max asks. “Lemon and grape.”

“Ooh, popsicles sound good,” says Robin. “Bring me one too. Fruit punch.”

Steve sighs, lifting his arms.

“Two hands, guys. Only got two.”

“I can help,” you offer.

“Now that’s a great idea,” Robin says. “The two of you in the kitchen, alone. Really brilliant, don’t you think, Steve?”

Steve glares at her. Then he turns to you, expression softening.

“That’d be great, thank you.”

You follow him into the kitchen. It looks exactly like the last time you were here, except for the food. Steve opens the freezer and digs through the box of popsicles. Then he takes the pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and sets it on the counter.

“Can you get the Doritos?” he asks. “They’re up there.”

You open a shelf over the stove. The chips are at the very top. You try jumping; all that does is bang your ribs into the counter.

"Whoa, whoa.”

Steve’s hand rests on your back. Your stomach swoops.

"Easy, Buttercup. I’ll get it, sorry ‘bout that."

You frown. "The Doritos have eluded me."

"They’re a tricky bunch," he says, reaching and successfully grabbing the chips.

"I knew you’d best me and succeed."

"Best you?"

"Yes," you say. "Like in a duel."

Steve tilts his head, a tiny crinkle forming in the center of his brows.

"Are we going to duel? Like Inigo and Westley?"

"Not if I can help it," you say. "I'm terrible with a sword."

"I would never try to sword fight you."

"I appreciate that."

His hand slips from your back. You watch it fall to his side.

“Feel free to help yourself to whatever you want,” Steve says as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. “You can also take food home.”

You exhale through your nose and wiggle your fingers a little, trying to stave off the nerves. You wish Joan was in your pocket right now, but you left her on the deck chair.

“Buttercup?”

You look up. Steve has a glass of lemonade in one hand. The top button of his polo shirt is undone. Was it always undone? You can’t remember.

Anyway, he’s beautiful. And you’re so damn strange.

“Yes, Westley?”

Steve smiles. You don’t think anyone has ever smiled at you as much as Steve does.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

He puts the glass in front of you. You glance at it, then back at him.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I won’t force you to drink my crappy lemonade if you don’t want to, y’know.”

“You called me strange,” you blurt. “When we first met.”

Steve’s eyes widen.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he says softly. “But I won’t call you that anymore if you don’t like it.”

“No, I–I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way. But…”

He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I’m not like Debbie,” you say.

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never be like Debbie.”

“I much prefer you as yourself,” he says.

“Oh.”

You sip your lemonade. Your lips pucker but you smile all the same.

“Damn,” Steve says with a chuckle. “I really can’t nail that lemonade, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You set the glass on the counter.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“I would very much like that.”

Steve’s lips are slightly chapped. You taste like lemonade and he tastes like Coke and God, you like it so much.

You loop your arms around his neck like you’ve wanted to do for weeks. He returns in kind, both hands slipping to your waist.

It’s not just a boy kissing you. It’s Steve.

The sliding glass door whooshes open and you jerk your head back in surprise. Max and Dustin trod in.

Dustin shrieks.

“Seriously? This is what was taking you so long?”

“If you were gonna do that, we would’ve gotten the popsicles ourselves,” Max says with a huff, grabbing the popsicles and chips from the counter.

“Told ya they were making out!” comes Eddie’s voice from outside. “I warned you, kiddies!”

They clear out, with one last stink eye from Dustin. Steve shakes his head, nose pressed to your cheek.

“Again, very sorry about them.”

“They wanted to check in on their favorite babysitter,” you say.

Steve lifts his head and rolls his eyes. “I need a padlock or something.”

You hum and lean over to unwrap a popsicle.

“Oh,” you say. “Three left.”

“Three popsicles?”

“Mmhm.”

“Well, that explains it. Astronomical bad luck, right?”

“Actually,” you say, leaning in for another kiss. “I think my theory was wrong.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things

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toxicanonymity · 6 months

Note

How much Joel react if Sweet Pea snapped at him, even just a little bit?

Like she has her period now, or maybe just its super hot or some shit or no sleep or something.

Would Joel feel bad that his sweet, well-trained girl was lashing out? or would he snap right back?

Couldn't sleep. raider master

850 words, raider!Joel x f!reader

WARNINGS: angst, light manhandling, dark fluff, spanking, choking adjacent moment, grinding, reference to FEDRA assault.

A/N: analysis here. calling it a hypothetical bc it doesn't fit neatly btwn hunger and the next part.

He grabs you by the arm and you won't look at him, so he grips your jaw and turns your head. His brow furrows as he searches your face. You still don't want to meet his eyes. ”What the hell’s wrong with you today?” he bites. You don't answer. “Hmm?” He prods, tightening the massive hand on your arm with a jolt.

“Nothing,” you mutter, but your eyes are welling up. He stares at your quivering lips, then your eyes as he awaits your answer. You finally look at him. “Sorry. I couldn't sleep. I'm tired.”

He lets go of your jaw and you start to pull away but his grip on your arm tightens and he asks, “That all?”

“Yeah,” you sniffle.

His jaw clenches then moves back and forth. His eyes are pensive, concerned. “‘Member what I said after ya ran?”

You nod. “that you only want me if I'm good?” A tear runs down your cheek.

His face softens and so does his voice. “I only want ya if you're–” he sighs and cups your cheek. “No, sweet pea. That ya gotta talk to me when somethin's botherin’ ya.”

You look down and away, then nod. He lets go of your arm and sits down on the bed.

“You're a good girl, sweet pea. c’mere.” He pulls you down onto his lap. He strokes the nape of your neck with his thumb. “That day ya ran. . .” He brushes a tear off your cheek. “That was real bad.” It's true. It was bad. FEDRA had you on your knees, made you play Russian roulette, stripped you. "I didn't. . ." He searches for words and doesn't find them. He looks at you with his brows knitted. “we’re past that, ain't we?”

You nod earnestly. “It was stupid. I wouldn't–it was a long time ago. I'd never-”

“'S’what I thought,” he nods. “You're my good girl, sweet pea.” He kisses you on the temple.

“You're not gonna spank me?” You look at him with wide eyes.

His nose twitches. “That what ya want?” He pulls you further into his lap and when you feel he’s hard you get a rush of arousal. He sighs, and with a smooth rotation of his body, he pushes you down on the bed face up. He pins you to it with his hips, arousal digging into your front. He wraps his hand around your throat, not too hard, but the serious look he gives you says youre not off the hook. “What ain't ya sayin'?”

You stammer, unsure what he means. You hazard a guess, “please?” Your hips lift into him.

He smirks, then it fades as he closes his eyes for a second. “No. why couldn't ya sleep?”

“I–” you sigh. “I was worried about the dog.”

He breathes out a laugh, then with his hands under your arms, he pulls you up further onto the bed so your legs aren't dangling. He sits back on his heels, straddling you with his knees. You eye the bulge in his pants. He asks, “That's it?”

“It's too cold at night,” you whine. “And what if he runs away. I can't believe all that time he was. . .” you start sniffling again.

Joel pauses, seeing the sincerity in your eyes. “Alright,” he nods. “we’ll make him some place warmer. god damn.”

“Really?”

He shrugs, then leans forward and plants his forearm on the bed. He hovers over you, then puts some weight on you again, his cock harder now, making you gush as he presses it against just the right spot. “Yeah, really."

“Thank you,” you whisper. “He's still skinny.”

“Hell, make'm a goddamn vest if ya want,” Joel murmurs, searching your face affectionately.

You laugh, which makes his eyes come to life with warmth. He asks, “okay?” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “see, all ya gotta do is talk to me, sweet pea.”

You nod, then start to explain. “didnt wanna wake you up. n’ sometimes you're. . .I dunno, kinda. . .mean,” your voice trails off as you wonder if you've gone too far and second guess whether you even feel that way.

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “I'm kinda mean? Hmm” his lower lip juts out in contemplation.

“No. Well. I mean. . .”

He pushes himself up to hover over you as he forcibly turns you over face down. Then his hips press his hard bulge into your ass, and he brings his mouth to your ear. “f’i didn't know any better,” he murmurs, then lifts his hips again for clearance. “I'd think ya were into it.” He pulls up your dress and smacks your ass. You grunt and your mouth falls open with the sting of his hand, making you twitch with need. “Maybe,” you mumble into the pillow.

You sigh and push your ass up, seeking contact. You look back and he shakes his head in playful disapproval as he unbuttons his pants.

----

ty for reading.

So the answer is both - I think he'd snap back, but underneath that he'd be concerned that it's out of character for her. His concern or hurt often presents as anger or frustration at first and he's getting more emotionally intelligent to where he might realize it sometimes.

#raider!ask #joel miller x reader #raider!joel #joel miller imagine #joel miller drabble #toxicanonymity ☠️

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alizalayne · 2 months

Note

Whats the ventilation and heat like in the suit head? I can't tell if it would be warmer or more cool to wear in compaison to a faux fur fursuit head. The only thing I worry abt is how durable needlefelting is and if it can be cleaned like a traditional fursuit head. That being said I really hope you continue making these, they're cool as hell 👍🔥👍

Okay first of all I'm super jazzed to be able to talk about this with people, and I kind of went overboard answering this, but thanks for asking! Putting this up in case anyone else is curious.

The main answers to your questions are 1: wool is cooler than acrylic fur and less stinky

2: A fursuit head is a swamp and i am snorkling in it.

I mentioned this in my behind the scenes post and there are pictures there but I literally just made a snorkel out of a snorkel mouthpiece and two collapsible automotive funnels, the kind that you can bend into a shape so that you can get goo into a weird part of your car.

that snorkel piece goes straight out of a vent hole in the inside of the ear and I felted a pink skin flap in front of it and then felted white fiber into that so it just looked like a tuft. it worked perfectly, it's just that I couldn't talk in it that well. But I'm definitely going to keep using it if I can't think of a better mouthpiece for it because as SOON as I breathed inside the head instead of through the snorkel I was like oh my god everyone is living in hell.

You can see it in this picture a little bit. nobody noticed it at all!

My friend had made a much more traditional head with a bigass electric fan in it and he was having more heat issues than I was, because I cannot stress enough that acrylic fur is like, one of the most horrifically hot fabrics you can wear. I don't know how everybody is even alive!! and there's a layer of ACRYLIC BACKING on it! Also check out how "short-pile" my fur is, most of the head is only an inch thick, it's a half-inch bucket head made out of foam covered in maybe 1/3 of an inch of wool? the less space you have between the fibers the less heat gets trapped. I was shocked by how comfortable I was, and I was having migraine symptoms that day and was extra sensitive to heat. The con where we were had the air turned down and it was chilly outside, but I was shocked when I took the head off and shook my hair out and I wasn't even sweating. I had long hair in a wig cap under that thing and I wasn't sweating. It was crazy.

As for cleaning the wool, I cannot find anyone else who has done this who has cleaning tips for me, but the foam is what I'm worried about. After a few hours of wear there's nothing wrong with the wool at all, but i can TELL the foam is ever so slightly nasty, because the foam is polyurethane and wool is what you make hiking socks out of. I have some wool cleaner coming in the mail that's made for delicate needlefelted items like scarves and deposits lanolin, which is what keeps wool "alive" kind of like how you have to care for leather. It's definitely an experiment! Nothing ventured nothing gained!

I don't have an idea in mind for a second head right now and the next thing I want to make is a cowl so I can wear lower-cut tops with this head, but I might try something else if I think of an idea! I'm probably never gonna sell these because I'm weird about selling sculptures for whatever reason. They're like my living beasts.

But I definitely hope this encourages other people who might be interested in bringing needlefelt or other fiber art sensibilities to this space, that would be a massive complement and a high honor to give people a new way to enjoy a hobby that I know means a ton to a lot of people.

#fursuit

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chamomiletealeaf · 1 month

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Heeeey!! I love your posts very much and it is my first request, sooo… sorry if I do something wrong! ❤️

Can you please write about tft141 men and partner with vaginismus? I read about it only ones and I so love the idea. thank you in advance! ❤️

Hi anon! So sorry it took so long to get to this ask. I have a lot in my inbox to clear.

I think the 141 boys would be super sweet about it tbh. They'd definitely find other ways to pleasure you if penetrative sex hurts too much.

warnings: afab! fem reader, vaginismus, oral sex f! receiving, thigh fucking

Johnny I think would be the most creative tbh when it comes to his partner having vaginismus. He doesn't want to hurt you, so he'd be more than happy to find other ways to have fun with you. He'd definitely love to thigh fuck you, rubbing his cock against your bare pussy, hitting your clit perfectly. Thigh fucking would be his favorite way to get the both of you off. It's a win win. He gets to fuck your thighs and cum all over them, and you get to cum from his thick cock rubbing against your clit. He'd love thigh fucking you in doggy, or from behind against a wall. It's just so fucking hot to him. He loves your thighs and would love seeing you in cute thigh highs or garters all bent over for him so he can pound into the soft, tight squeeze of your thighs.

"Fuck bonnie keep 'em just like that. Look at how wet your thighs are fuck. Little cunny makin' a mess of 'em hm? Can slide right in. Cute fuckin' thighs squeezin' me so good."

Gaz wouldn't mind fucking your thighs either. He loves it too. He would like when you fuck him with your thighs just as much though, rocking your hips back and forth on him until he shoots his cum all over you. And don't even get him started on tit fucking my god. That makes him lose his mind. But his favorite would be pussy jobs from you. Rubbing his cock back and forth against your slit with your legs spread apart for him makes the two of you cum so hard from how hot it is.

"Yeah sweetheart that's it. Feel good sliding against that little clit hm?"

Price's specialty is eating you out. He locks his hands in place over your hips to keep your hips from bucking up as he tongue fucks your clit. He looks up at you with his soft eyes and his beard tickles the soft skin of your inner thighs so nicely that you can't help but squirm. Every chance he gets his mouth is on your pussy clothed or not. You'll be fresh out of the shower, just put on a t shirt and some panties and as you bend over to pick up your towel he's on his knees burying his face in your pussy from behind, gripping your thighs so you don't move. Your front falls onto the bed and he takes the opportunity to spread your legs more.

"C'mon darling open these pretty legs for me. Lemme lick this cute little pussy." He says with his face pressed into you, words muffled in your covered mound and thighs and you open your legs a little more for him. He licks you through your thin cotton panties not even bothering to move them out the way and he makes you cum so hard from his tongue licking and sucking over that perfect spot through your panties you need to change them again.

Simon loves to rub your clit with his fingers. He loves seeing how tiny your clit is compared to them. He thinks it's just so cute. On long road trips he's slipping a hand into your panties and rubbing your clit until you squirt in your pants for him. Or as you're watching TV together, and he sits you on his lap or between his thighs so he can play with your clit and tease your nipples. He loves eating you out too. You could be sitting at the dining room table on your laptop or something and he'd slide under the table to throw your legs over his shoulders. Then he's eating you out, pushing your shorts and panties to the side so he can see your little twitching clit he loves so much. He'd pinch it with his knuckles, moving it side to side which brings you over the edge cumming all over his hand.

"Fuck lovie you're fucking throbbing for me. Such a cute little pussy. That's right cum for me baby."

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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sukisheadlights · 8 months

Note

hey there!!! could you make headcanons for all the Voltron guys for when they realize that (she/her) reader is like actually someone they could date/ end up with? like they get turned on by something she did or something like that? you don't have to but thanks for reading anyway </3

Voltron Paladins realizing Reader is someone they could end up with!

req: yes words: 873 pairing: voltron x reader content: fluff a/n: I was actually planning on writing something similar so thanks for the ask anon! <3

Keith

Keith isn’t interested in love (until he realizes he can date you) BUT FOR THE MOMENT HE’S NOT!

Both of you are still determining when you got close as well. You protected him once in battle, and since then, you’ve just stuck together.

And he of course protects you when he can because he's grateful you saved his life.

So you guys became friends,,, that was news to Lance btw.

Slowly you let each other into your lives, and now you train together often.

You were never ‘better’ than him at fighting (you actually just made yourself lose sometimes) and Keith sometimes ‘lost’ to make you just a little happy (little did he know hehe)

But today? Oh, you weren’t playing that’s for sure. He was super confused at first, then he was impressed, and then he was turned on. Which is fair because you looked straight out of a magazine, the ‘hot’ sweaty and perfectly messy hair.

When did you get so hot?

And boom. He felt he was on earth again because realization hit him like a TRAIN.

You were his age, and you were hot, and you could totally be a thing. And wtf is wrong with Keith? He's never thought of you like this.

Yeah, so that’s that.

And then he gets all awkward around you, and you guys haven't had a training session together since then. He always conveniently has something to do when you try to ask him.

Goddamnit.

Lance

You’ve been friends with him since the good old garrison days.

You grew to like the dork’s presence

You’ve always known he’s flirty, that’s just Lance.

Getting you flowers (sometimes), flirting with you in the hallways, and even when you’re fighting with the galra.

You always rolled your eyes, scoffed at him, or brushed him off but today?

Violence

You were so ready to mess with him too

You woke up with mischief on your mind

And mischief you created

BECAUSE BECAUSE BECAUSE

OK SO

Lance was flirting with you while fighting the galra

And he expected you to react normally but nooooo

You flirted back

AND THEN YOU WINK AT HIM

SHOOT A GALRA SOLDIER

AND LEAVE !???!!?!!!?!?!?!!?!?

Lance MALFUNCTIONS

Like lance.exe has STOPPED working

DECEASED

Keith’s snickering in the background! (And Shiro too but he won’t admit that, for Lance’s sake)

“Shut it.” is all Lance says for like 10 minutes

You’re hot, He’s hot, and you guys could end up together

You’re a woman now

And you could have him ENTIRELY at his knees.

Hunk

Hunk misses earth

So much

He stops talking as much and wanders around the castle

He didn't think anyone noticed

But you did

And you felt SO bad for him

So when you stop at the mall to get teleduv lenses you seek away

And get the closest possible ingredients to make his favorite treat

Ice cream sandwiches (real)

You’re testing weird white heavy cream adjacent substances and so much more all for him

You might get sick

Oh well

You sneak back and he gives you a weird “Where were you?” look,

But you just ignore

And then you slave away in the kitchen and finally end up with something that’s ice cream sandwich adjacent

“What’re you making?”

“Ice cream sandwiches”

“Oh for the team? You should have let me help”

“No”

Confused hunk

“It’s just for us” and you hold up an ice cream sandwich for him

His face LIGHTS up and he gladly accepts it

Then you guys sit on the floor and just talk about life and how both of you feel

All night.

It's freaking adorable

He realises how much he adores you, and how he absolutely loves you and all of your little quirks

It doesn’t even matter when the ice cream starts melting, he’d much rather focus on you and talk. Only occasionally taking bites when you do

Pidge

Pidge always knew you were datable

And an amazing person

But she started falling for you when the paladins were trying to tell her to not go find Matt

You stepped in a stood up for her, gaining Shiro’s support.

And then when she was ready to leave she saw you putting your stuff into your lion

“You don’t think I’ll leave you alone, do you?”

She knows it’s because someone will need to be there for her in case Matt is gone

But she doesn’t complain

It’s a silent brewing of love and appreciation

And she’s so grateful to have you in her life

Shiro

When Keith was confused and stuck without Shiro, you stepped up and found him

He was surprised at first

But you took care of him and helped him out as he got better

You were there for him to lean on. Always.

Literally and figuratively

His appreciation turned into adoration and then his adoration turned into pure, genuine love

Once he was fully healthy again

He’d try to pay it back to you

By protecting you when you went against any threats

ESPECIALLY when you were out of your lion

And then it just becomes a thing where you protect each other

It’s adorable

He loves you and he protects you

And vice versa

Adorable, I say.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #takashi shirogane #shiro x reader #keith kogane x reader #keith kogane #hunk x reader #pidge x reader #pidge holt #voltron pidge #lance mcclain #lance x reader #voltron legendary defender x reader #voltron x reader #voltron x you #ice cream sandwiches are amazing

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finniestoncrane · 2 months

Note

Gotta be honest with you, I need to hear every single Digger headcanon you have because they 2 you've shared are just so good.

General Headcanons

KTJL!Boomer Headcanons yippee!!! woohoo!!! someone wants to listen to my bullshit!! i am so happy to write down more of my headcanons by the way, but for anyone wanting any make sure to let me know what you want the 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: mentions of nsfw things, it's fuckin boomer so of course, there's a whole load of nsfw headcanons and i mention piss because duh

General Headcanons

this is a sort of universal belief i suppose but i do think he lives in his van and i will live and die by my faith. he likes having everything he needs with him at all times. he will spout some bullshit rhetoric about living a "buddhist" existence with few material goods. and he's half right in that he has two pairs of underwear, and a collection of empty (or maybe not completely empty) beer cans rattling around back there

he's passed out twice while getting tattoos and he will yell and scream and argue that it was because his blood sugar was super low and not because he's a total wuss

he smells amazing. not like... good, don't get me wrong i don't think he smells nice. BUT he smells fuckin great. he has a natural deep musk that just hits the receptors nicely, the kind of smell that's laden with all the right pheromones to engage your caveman brain and have you swooning over him

bad habits (which i count as a bonus tbh) include: picking things: ears, skin, nose, anything. drinking to excess and then never learning a single lesson. masking all of his emotions until he's certain you won't make fun of him for having feelings. pretending to hate people that he loves because he can't be seen getting hurt. leaving his clothes lying around and relying on the smell test to get him through the process of getting dressed. kissing you in the morning before he has brushed his teeth. having no concept of personal space: he will steal blankets, he will curl around you in bed, he will sit too close to you on the sofa, he will hang off your body, he will hug you from behind and not let go, he will stand beside you all the time. refusing to take things seriously until he really has no other option. bad temper, and then defusing the situation by kicking something

yes, he has great tits and strong arms, but in my heart of hearts i know his stomach is not flat and in my head he has the sweetest lil beer gut to ever exist. it gets worse once he's just finished eating or drinking, and he cradles it and makes jokes about it being a girl or a boy. and while they might not have added it into the game, they did add in his sweet lovehandles on those hips, and he likes being grabbed by them and pulled into a hug. reminds him that when he's no longer big buff boomer, you'll still be super into his hot body

i think he's 45 years old fuck you. i think youngest he's 40, there's no way he's near me in age. we can consider sun damage to an extent but he has wrinkles, he's a dad, he's got big ol bags under his eyes and a slightly receding hairline

he's competitive, but not in an aggressive way, more in an annoying way. like you play a board game with him, and he'll do everything in his power to distract you, or use the rules against you. and if he loses, he doesn't go in a big strop, maybe a tiny huff with a few whines. who can refuse him a pity win when he's looking up at you all sad with those big green eyes and batting those silly eyelashes?

if there is something about you that he can mercilessly tease you for (without making you cry) he will harp on about it constantly. it's his way of showing that he's comfortable around you, enough that he can make you want to punch him in the throat. he can give but he can't take though, so remember that before you point out that he is in fact ginger, or that his freckles make him look so cutie-patootie, or that his tattoos are kinda dumb

you have to laugh at his jokes and puns, it's a requirement and he'd be tempted to make you sign a contract saying you will adhere to this rule. it gives him a boost, makes him feel proud. plus he is genuinely very funny, and the dorky nature behind his silly jokes is so endearing

Relationship Headcanons

when he falls for someone, he falls first and he falls hard. he also falls pretty easily, and he's no stranger to heartbreak, but he has his terrible coping methods to keep him going

he finds it easy to find something about everyone that he likes, because he's just prone to liking people. he thinks everything and anything is sexy, and he can find your good traits like a pig sniffing out truffles

he regularly brings home gifts for his partner, stolen or otherwise. no one needs to know how you aquired such an expensive piece of jewellery or that really nice original looking bit of art. maybe you just happen to save a lot of money by living in the back of his van with him!!

gifts are just one of the ways he is surprisingly thoughtful for a boy with no thoughts behind his eyes! dates are another thing he's fuckin stellar at!! wherever you're going and whatever you're doing you are guaranteed to have fun, that's just how he is. he makes everything tolerable, and he can turn a shit day into a great one

he's desperate for friendship, far more than he is for anything romantic or sexual, although if the two could go hand in hand that'd be an ideal scenario. he might claim to be chill and looking for a quick root, but he's far more interested in finding a partner who can be his buddy as well as his lover

there's never going to be a moment when he's not touching his partner by the way, like that is just something you are going to have to put up with

hand on your shoulder, hand in your hand, hand on your waist, hand on your thigh, hand on your back, hands around you as he hugs you from behind, hands around you as he hugs you from the front, hands around you as he hugs you from the side, hand on your butt, hand on your chest, hand on your stomach, hand on your cheek. the man has borderline separation anxiety

holding hands is his favourite though, especially when paired with his habit of loudly announcing your status to anyone within earshot. "oh this is my partner!" "yeah i'm their boyfriend!" "i'm fucking that beautiful bit of arse over there, thanks for asking!" like thank you, digger

he's surprisingly emotional, and surprisingly open once you get past his protective exterior layer. he's still always joking around and trying not to take things seriously, but the minute you or he needs some serious feeling time he is down for it

i don't think he would ever choose a sexuality. personally, i feel like he's bisexual or pansexual, but digger would say he's just sexual. he'll go for anything with a pulse who was happy to see him. there's a bit of digger for anyone (or anything...)

he'd be quick to take things to the next level with a partner he really loved. like he comes to pick you up one day in the boomer-van and he's like "tah-dah" and in the bacl there's a plastic storage box duct taped to the wall with your name written on it. this is how he would ask you to move in with him. you might need to get rid of a lot of your posessions but he wouldn't be adverse to you cleaning up the van or making it your own though!! i bet he'd love to have fairylights on the ceiling and some rugs on the floor

NSFW Headcanons

he has a piss kink. i know that is not a thing for most people, but i have evidence backing this up. it's barely a headcanon at this point, it's just straight up fuckin canonical fact lmao!! anyway i don't think it's a goes both ways thing most of the time. he likes to be the one pissing, it's where he refuses to be a switch and will only be the dominant one, usually

speaking of being the dominant one, it's what he's most comfortable with since he's a loud, brash, bold and heroic villainous boy, but he really doesn't mind switching things up. he can be a gentle dom, a bratty sub, and any combination in between. really, he is up for literally any activity or kink or fetish or position you can throw at him

he gets very vocal during sex. he spouts all kind of filth at you, confirming what he's doing, what he wants to do, and what he's going to do to you. his preferred terms are surprisingly gentle though, calling you kitten or pup, princess or prince, love, babe, baby. a combination of them all. aside from that, he is loud. volume is not something he can control when he's deep in the heat of the moment and he is the literal definition of animalistic. he growls while he fucks you, and he howls when he cums, and he has referred to himself as a dingo before...

of course, if you're getting particualrly nasty, or he's in a far more feral mood, he'll be growling low into your ear, calling you a dirty, nasty little cunt while he grabs your body and keeps you close

he's into any kink, sort of believing in trying anything once (or twice... or three times...) but there's a few he just LOVES. ones that if you mention them, you run the risk of having him cumming in his pants or rutting up against your leg like a desperate, badly behaved puppy

obviously, previously mentioned piss kink, but specifically if it involves some level of servitude or worship. like you on your knees holding his cock for him while he goes to the toilet, you offering to lick him clean, or letting him piss on you because you're so beneath him and he's yours to mark and claim. begging for a taste of him or pleading for him to use you gets him going too when you combine it with this

body worship or worship in general gets him going too. he's so desperate to be loved and wanted and adored and needed, so having someone beg for him, tell him they want him, they need his cock, his fingers, his hands, his saliva, his drool, his cum, anything he's willing to give them. top that off by calling him captain and he'll melt into a sticky little puddle

he's also way behind on comfort, so a little bit of gentle love mixed with kink is a great way to help him relax. feed him a tit or a hard cock, let him suck until he's soothed himself. hold him on your lap and stroke his hair while you tell him he's amazing, and so good at everything he does

cowboy digger is reporting for duty at the breeding ranch! get you some horns, a teeny tiny cowprint outfit, a tail and a bell and he'll either milk you dry until you're crying from overstimulation, or he'll ride you until he's pumped every last bit of cum into you, making sure you're ready for him to be the daddy

he'll fuck with the hat on. he's a socks on kinda guy too. he just gets way too into it way too quickly and forgets anything else but rutting and grunting

this could have been soft, if it wasn't george, but he loves when you fall asleep on him, like your head resting on his chest or his stomach or his lap or his shoulder. he'll be sweet, of course, and place a little kiss on the top of your head. but then he will try and sneak a look down your top or at your ass or to see if you have a visible bulge he can ogle

#captain boomerang #digger harkness #george harkness #captain boomerang fanfic #finnie writes #captain boomerang headcanons #suicide squad: kill the justice league

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luvring · 2 months

Note

Could i have the same headcanon of falling in love but for Mhin? Thank you 🙏 😭

MHIN FALLING IN LOVE

gn!reader | mhin time! >____< lots of mhin fans here... awesome world. in case anyone is wondering yes i do have vere in my drafts. meowww

predictably, a slowburn with angst.

hard to get to know, not because they aren't predictable, or because they're incredibly hard to read, but because they're Fawking persistent when it comes to keeping their guard up. which means you have to be even More persistent. an absurd cycle. but you can get there. You will get there.

i think something that slowly takes down(?) mhin's walls would be showing interest in them past working together and their secrets. asking something more mundane like what their favourite season or meal is, what kind of music they like, if they enjoy rain. they're wary to answer because ?? why are you asking. why are you being weird. but they realize it's nice to think of something else about themself other than being a monstrosity. wow. ow

^ and then maybe doing something with their answer! going out of your way to buy some sweets for them, asking if they're okay when it's super cold/hot because they mentioned not enjoying it. something they've forgotten you even know. it also makes them wonder what your answers would be. the first time mhin manages to ask "what's yours?" is !!!! woah!

another moment might be choosing to be sincere when you could've teased them for something. they give you a look (honestly more often than not, mhin's first reaction is always wary confusion/denial), and you promise you're telling the truth. and they might not thank you or anything, but it sticks in the back of their head while they try to ignore how flustered they feel.

another Little moment might be you catching them off guard by like. being mean. they've gotten used to you pestering and following them. they've gotten used to your list of questions and times where you're walking quietly. neither of you have spoken in 5 minutes, and they're rolling their eyes, thinking to themself "what an asshole" about some guy arguing with a server, and then you mutter "what a fucking asshole" out loud. and they just look at you like ?. and you look back like ?? like i'm wrong. and mhin can't help but snicker or scoff.

when they realize what's going on (waiting for you to find them, looking for you, enjoying your company, etc), mhin starts avoiding you like the plague. all that time learning your schedule/habits has made it easy to avoid you (until you realize what's going on, at least). even places that they enjoyed for themself, they time things so you don't cross paths. it's honestly impressive LOL

they kind of hate it though. they miss you. they tell themself they don't, but they do. yeah they avoid you, but you know, if you both happen to be shopping, they might trail you and notice how you're buying ingredients for your favourite dessert, or how your eyes linger on a necklace before moving on. they just happen to be taking a similar path as you, and it's not like they want something bad to happen, so it makes sense to watch out, even now.

i'm picturing a confrontation where they try to deny avoiding you, then say they're doing it for a reason... and then you ask what this is, what anything meant, if anything. and mhin thinks they've dug themself a grave already and tell you it was nothing, a mistake, you should go home.

and you can either wait for a second confrontation, or call out their bullshit there—they're a liar but it's obvious to you, so what's actually going on? and tension rises and you push a little further until they finally tell you of course they care about you! and their voice might break a little because they don't speak loudly often, and their words dawn on them and they purse their lips—that's why they're trying to stay away.

something something don't push me away, i won't let you push me away, the significance of promising to stay with them, to work through things together and not leaving them alone, of seeing them as something else other than a monster, of seeing them as mhin.

mhin falls in love with your kindness, your open heart that warms theirs until it remembers spring. not just in the way you help them, but the kindness you show yourself, the people around you, your friends. they fall in love with watching you see the world in a way they hope to one day.

they fall in love with someone who perseveres when things get hard, but reminds the both of them that pushing too much or isolating yourself won't help. they'll stand at your desk and watch until you put your things away, or frown when they find you asleep outside of bed, and they know you'll do the same with them. they believe you'll get better at this together

mhin falling in love is pushing themself out of their comfort zone and doing their best to speak, even and especially when they can't think of what to say. it's them finding you in a bad mood and getting you food and offering to listen if you need to vent. it's them opening up and being vulnerable about their past that still hurts them, letting you reach for their hand or hold them when all they can think is that they don't deserve it.

i've mentioned this before but in an established relationship, mhin is softer but...not? they're comfortable to the point that they enjoy when you rest your head on their shoulder, but also enjoy making fun of you and laughing afterward. they don't have to be cold or walled off!! you're getting the real mhin, all sides included!

in general, they aren't a very touchy person. whether this is because they're not used to it or actually don't enjoy it is up in the air in my head. either way, it makes moments of physical touch a little more special! leaning against you when they're tired, reaching for your hand in crowds, letting you tie or play with their hair, etc.

the first time mhin kisses you, you're asleep. it's just a little one on the forehead as they pull the blanket up a little higher. and they keep doing it, because maybe it'll make it easier for when you wake up. they don't realize that you've been awake for the past 3 kisses as you pretend to fall asleep.

they let you watch them do experiments, and if it's up your alley, will listen to your thoughts and suggestions! feel honoured because it isn't a place, or thing that they let just anyone see! even if you aren't very science-y, feel free to give your opinion. maybe something will click in their head, y'know. or just be like, what if you mix red and white to make pink. and watch mhin stare at you like. How did you pick the two that'd be the Worst possible combination. like okay sorry i like pretty colours woah /lh

saying i love you.... i think they'd try really hard. you've helped them so much and they really do care, even if they're scared to say they love you, they know they do, they don't know what else this could be. there's a few times you catch them staring at you weirdly focused, and they're making a face with scrunched brows and pouting lips, and you're like. What is happening. and they chicken out. and get angry at themself for a while.

it kind depends on you, of course, and what kind of person you are. if you're someone who says it easily but never pushes them to say it, they feel grateful but guilty. if both of you keep dancing around it, a little anxiety and insecurity creeps back in when they don't want it to.

it's kind of a big deal for them, so the first time you say it is at the same time. not like Simultaneously saying it, but the same. ...day. at least. LOL. although if they're the one to say it first (somehow??) and you don't say it back until later that night because ?? shock? processing? nervous excitement? they Will be having a rough time dealing with themself, even while they repeat over and over that you deserve time, too, and it's okay, and they shouldn't overthink, etc etc.

mhin is So visibly relieved when you say it back. "were you worried?" "no?" < their head was a cacophony of 27 ambulances and noisy garbage compactors

grahhh i forgot to make a new tag list form. friends. I will make one eventually. but u r still here 4 now. kyaaa | @screaming-wea-sel @semifilms @cvhenia @mitskiologist @leiiii-i @sweet-milky-tea705 @khalixvitae

#touchstarved #touchstarved x reader #mhin x reader #mhin #touchstarved game #nia + touchstarved #q

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xtreklx · 9 months

Text

Nicknames ~ Ninja Turtles x reader

Headcanon: bayverse Turtles x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: some silly headcanons I thought up about what nicknames the turtles would use for their partners. lemme know ur thoughts 🤭 enjoy!!!

__________

~ Leonardo ~

imo Leo is not suuuuper into nicknames, but he will use some. just nothing too over-the-top for this turtle in blue

he's not a huge PDA guy in general, but he knows that you think it's super cute when he's affectionate

so using a sweet nickname for you is one of the ways in which he is publicly affectionate

his favorite name to call you is "princess" because let's be real, this man is 100% treating you as such

"hey Lee, could you do ___ for me?" "anything for you, princess."

but he will also call you things like: love, beautiful, gorgeous, etc.

because he always wants you to know how much he cherishes and loves you

examples are as follows:

"hey beautiful, how did work go today?"

"are you hungry, gorgeous?"

"I'm gonna go meditate, love. would you like to join?"

just as he cares for his brothers in an almost parental way, he's very nurturing and attentive with you

and he definitely tends to talk to you with a soft voice because you're his delicate and precious flower and he just wants to protect you alwayssssss🥹

you tend to refer to him by his full name, "Leo", or just "Lee"

but he LOVES when you call him handsome, so that's definitely your go-to

it makes him feel like he's the only man on your mind, which is 100% the case, but he loves the reassurance

you'll also use "love" back at him, or "honey", or "babe".

ever the romantic, one of his guilty pleasures is when you answer the phone, greet him, or wake up next to him with a "hey, stranger"

that has his heart fluttering and his face flushing every time he hears it

all in all, he's not a super showy guy, but will take such good care of you and do whatever you need to make you feel loved, and you just want to do the same for him

~ Raphael ~

okay this man is big into nicknames, and I know this is a fact so I am not taking criticism at this time!!!! like, tell me I'm wrong. you can't!!!!

he has a bank of nicknames for you that he uses to come off as cool, flirty, and witty

trustttttt that these are what he uses in public to show his relationship off to his family and friends

he definitely used these nicknames w you before you two started dating as a way to flirt or pick on you (🤭)

because he'll be using these nicknames if he's being sarcastic or facetious

^and these nicknames are: dollface, shorty, tiger, and sweetheart (again I am not taking criticism at this time! I am simply spitting facts)

examples:

if he's training you in the dojo: "you got yer work cut out for ya, shorty."

every time he greets you (or after a hello kiss): "hey there, dollface."

if he sees that you are getting annoyed: "woooah, easy there, tiger."

if you're starting to get on his nerves: "aight, listen here, sweetheart--"

HOWEVER, in more intimate moments with this guy, he can be a lot more tender, and you'll catch him using names like: baby, doll, or babygirl

"baby, if I ever lost ya, I don't know what I'd do."

"thanks for listenin', doll."

"come lay with me, babygirl."

at the end of the day, you are the light in the darkness for him, and he is going to make it known to you

as for how you refer to him, you tend to go with either more complimentary nicknames ("big guy" or "big boy", "hot stuff" or "hot shot", etc.) or more jokey nicknames ("hothead", "meanie", or "Raphie")

but secretly, Raph's guilty pleasure is the sound of your voice as you say his name (😉), because it's just a constant reminder that you are his person, a dream come true

and you are aware of this fact, so you like to use it to your advantage

if he's in the middle of something and you need his attention, you know that saying "Raphael," in a low voice and beckoning him with your finger is going to have him dropping everything and sprinting to you

he may act all big and mean, but deep down he's a huge simp <3

~ Donatello ~

like his oldest brother, Donatello is not huge into nicknames

I would argue that Donnie is probably the least likely to use a nickname with his partner

I think this is because tbh you are the most special person in the world to him, so your name is already his most favorite word on the planet!

what better way to describe his special person than with the most special word?

just like he does with his brothers, he's going to repeat your name over and over again when he wants to show you something, but you find it much more endearing than annoying

when he does use a nickname with you, it will be something short and sweet, like honey or darling or sunshine ✨(edit: OHMYGOD U GUYS I forgot abt dove!!! this is something he 100% uses. too cute!!!)

examples:

"hey honey, I fixed your computer screen for you!"

"just five more minutes, dove, I promise"

"do you think I'm a geek?" "no, but I think you're a dork." "thank you, darling."

"I love when you keep me company, sunshine. as the name suggests, you brighten my days!"

he repeats the last one all the time, but even though it's cheesy, it makes you giggle every time

if you're ever feeling especially down, he'll softly sing the "you are my sunshine" song to comfort you and make you smile. it never fails, and his voice isn't that bad!

similarly, you don't have a ton of nicknames for him either, but you will use honey back to him

and you'll call him "cutie" because you know it will make him flush immediately

ESPECIALLY around his brothers. if they hear you call Donnie a cutie, they will tease him about it to no end

he gets all flustered and acts annoyed, but he secretly loves the nickname.

like Raph, Donnie loves to hear you say his name. it fills him with a sense of pride, knowing that you're his partner in crime. or, as he likes to phrase it, partner in science😎

he will never tell you, but one of his guilty pleasures is when you sternly say "Donatello," as you scold him for working too hard

after you've finished scolding him, he'll let the smile break out on his face and pull you in for a big hug

you always do your best to take care of him and show him how much you love him, so he'll always try to do the same for you

~ Michelangelo ~

as we all know, Michelangelo is BIG into nicknames. definitely the most likely of the turtles to use nicknames with his partner. this is definitely an inarguable fact

he has probably called you every name under the sun; every name that his brain can come up with

his most-used are definitely: sweet cheeks, angel cakes (of course!!!), babygirl, little mama, and babe

but he will also use things like: honey bun, sugar, hot stuff, angel face, love bug, cutie patootie, ohmygod the list goes on and on.

it's almost like a game he plays with himself, attempting to fit a new nickname for you into each sentence

examples:

on the phone with you: "are you coming down to the lair today, angel cakes? ... wellllllllll, do you think you could bring some pizza with you, little mama? extra cheese? ... pleeeeEEEAaaaSE my gorgeous sugar-bear honey-bun sweetie-pie?"

his brothers, overhearing him on the phone: "SHUT UP, MIKEY!!"

you watching him break dance: "see my sick moves, sweet cheeks? this skill is all for you, baby girl!"

him being needy: "babe, can you just come to bed? come be my little love bug! I'll give you a massage?"

he may annoy his brothers but he could never annoy you, and you always gave into his sweetness

you were not quite as creative with nicknames as he was, but you still have a few up your sleeve

like his two oldest brothers, Mikey loved when you called him "handsome" or "big guy/boy". it makes him feel like a badass being called those things by his beautiful, attractive partner

"are you gonna walk me home, handsome?" "you really think you can beat me in mario kart? you're on, big boy." ohmygoooood, he's weak in the knees!!!!

you'll also refer to him as "babe" or "baby" on the regular, the second of which his brothers also tease him for

"awe, little Mikey's just a baby. ain't that cute?" Raph always comments, laughing with Leo in the corner

but Mikey didn't give a rat's ass (sorry Splinter). he loves showing off your relationship and bragging about you, especially to his friends and family.

you are easily the greatest thing to ever happen to him. and not only that, but you are a total babe! he scored big time.

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