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walkingzombiegirl · 5 months ago

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hey 👋

may i request a fic with dabi x fem!reader where they’re in her apartment watching old thriller movies while it’s raining and enjoying each others presence then all of a sudden he mumbles he loves reader?

i absolutely love him and he deserves all the love! and i adore your work! 🤍

━ 𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙈𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 - Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 - You and Touya are relaxing, little do you know he'd made a decision early on to tell you something he'd been meaning to for a long, long time. What could happen, it's just 3 little words?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - cursing, mentions of his mom, other angsty things but a lot of counteractive fluff, no use of y/n

𝗲𝘅𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘀 - this is my first time ever writing for him so it might be ooc! I super apologize, still trying to y'know ease into it. (It's why I cut many lines of his) but I definitley agree he deserves all the love and thank you!!!

Night had fallen a long time ago, rolling in the company of loud thunder that shook you awake each time you moved to fall asleep against his shirtless frame. His calloused hand running along your bare back after he'd all but ripped your shirt up to feel you against him.

Despite his nature, the skin on skin was never made sexual. Not a hint of anything more than him silently pleading to feel you. Like now, both of you softly blinking at the TV while rain pelted the windows and you snuggled against him in your fluffy blanket. He touched your flesh with nothing more than a want to have you impossibly close.

It was a blur at how many movies had played already before Nightmare on Elm Street one began. Usually by now he'd make some joke comparing himself to the villain. How his burned skin and staples were a clear parallel. It'd make you squirm and scold him all while he watched you form the words,

I love you.

Yet, he couldn't believe it. He couldn't bring himself too. Each time you told him, every time you signed off on a note to him or texted it. It all felt like lies. Lies being sung to him in a sweet voice dripping in toxic honey.

It was his turn to squirm now.

His blue eyes flickering down to your frame, cheek squished against his chest. You watched everything in awe like you'd never seen it before despite this being a clear rewatch for maybe the hundredth time.

He smirked, his hand moving up to run his thumb along your cheek, careful not to disturb you. Your face was so pretty though, compared to his. It made him wonder why you always took photos with him. Or of him. Cuddling the cat or you, sometimes just standing and some sleeping.

Why you'd make it your wallpaper was a mystery for him. Being forced to face that from the moment you woke up until the moment you slept.

But you weren't forced. You chose him.

"You're thinking." He hadn't noticed you looked up at him, your soft eyes on his and he wondered how long you'd been watching. Examining. He swallowed harshly like a line of sandpaper was being swallowed.

"Yeah." Was all he could push out, his hand moving away when you sat up to rest your chin on his chest. Head fully facing him.

"About?" You hummed, waiting so sweetly for him to tell you. Anticipating an answer but, he wasn't sure how to give one. What to say. He didn't want to speak the wrong words. He didn't wanna...

"Touya?"

You said softly, moving to hold his face this time, so close he could smell your minty toothpaste. The kind you used every night and the only one you'd ever buy.

"What's wrong?" He looked up from your mouth, finding his blurred reflection in your irises. The ones finding beauty in him when he couldn't see it himself.

"Nothin'." He found himself clawing out, licking his lips as he shrugged. "Just admiring you." You made a face at that, not one of bashful glee or finding it amusing like any other day.

"You use flirting to deflect, y'know."

"Hm." "What's wrong?" He didn't speak, he felt strangled despite it only being you both. No cameras or family watching him, there wasn't a hero in sight and yet, this had to be the most afraid he'd ever been.

"I..." He choked, clearing his throat and looking away from you. He felt like a fucking idiot, coughing something back. You didn't wanna push, you never pushed, your head moving to lay back down until he was ready. It made him wanna to scream at you, guilt guzzling up and he was never the guilty one. He never felt those things, so why does it feel like that now?

He knew why.

"I... care. About you." He managed, cringing at his own words but felt your cheeks moving against him. "Hm. Is that all?" You asked so innocently, seemingly oblivious to whatever kind of battle he seemed to be fighting. But he knew better.

"No."

Freddy killed someone on screen, long nails clawing out what couldn't be said. Or... maybe that was him. Who couldn't speak.

"Do you wanna go to bed?" You asked, his hand making it's way back to your jaw. "No." "Okay... we still have that spag-"

"I lo- I..." He grunted in frustration, keeping your face straight so you wouldn't turn to look at him. He couldn't handle that too, not when he couldn't get out the pussy written sentence.

"You don't have to say it, y'know. I know you do." God that tone of voice made him want to leave and pretend this never happened. That the entire time time you had been with him, was just a nightmare.

Another bad, bad thing to happen in his achingly long life.

"I love you." It felt like poison in his mother's tongue. He could burn you alive with how hot he'd begun to run at sound of those words.

Words, just silly words, Touya. She sang. Not you, not... she...

"I love you too." You had hummed, allowing him to keep your face still. You weren't sure you'd be able to glance up at him without crying either.

Instead, you stared at the end credits of Nightmare on Elm Street while holding him tightly.

He liked it that way, he liked to touch you. He wasn't much up for talking, and you didn't mind that. He didn't have to say it but he did. He did. Because you were the first to ever really say it to him.

Thunder boomed from outside. And yet, he didn't wake up.

A sweet dream it would've been, but you were real, and you weren't gonna fade when morning came.

#touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi #mha dabi #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader #toya todoroki #toya x reader

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vapekingg · 5 months ago

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Robin Buckley x Fem!Reader Fluff/angst 18+ for suggestive mentions WK - 4.3k TW for homophobic slurs Closeted reader and Robin, first kiss, first date, drive in date, Steddie setting up Robin and reader.

The overhead bell at Family Video dinged above you as you pushed your way into the air conditioned storefront.

“Right on time.” Steve said from the checkout counter.

He was glancing down at his watch, boyfriend and best friend huddled around him as usual. You’d made a habit of checking out two or three movies every week just to have an excuse to wander over from your job at the record shop next door.

“I take lunch at two o’clock every day, dingus.” You replied.

Robin couldn’t help but to smile. She’d noticed you’d picked up that nickname for Steve after hearing her call him it a time or two.

But she couldn’t smile for too long. Couldn’t let her eyes linger too heavily on the fray of your denim shorts — or more accurately, the flawless skin that sat just beneath it like a colliding estuary. Couldn’t let you know that she adored you in that way.

Robin took a step back when you approached the counter. Sometimes she felt scared to even be around you, like you could smell the fag shedding off of her. As if she was sickly. Contagious. That’s what people would say behind her back if they knew.

“Got anything new in?” You asked while sliding Steve the VHS you’d barely had for twenty-four hours.

“Since you came in yesterday?” He cocked an eyebrow, “No.”

“New release at the drive-in tonight though. Elm Street 4.” Eddie mentioned from your side of the desk. It was so miserable out that even he’d shed the leather jacket you typically saw him wearing, settling for a simple all black get up with that telling bandana hanging out the back of his jeans.

“Eh, let me know when it comes in. Last time I went to the drive-in alone some high schooler tried to hop in my passenger seat and cop a feel.” You mentioned.

You were content with watching re-runs on television late into the night while curled up on your sofa, you supposed. But a part of you wished you could just ask Robin to accompany you to that fucking movie.

“No goddamn way she’s not into chicks,” your co-workers told you to every time you came back from leaning over that fucking service desk during your half hour lunch. “She hangs out with Steve and Eddie all day, for fuck’s sake!”

Fuck, how you wished you could believe it as easily as they did. Even if you did believe it, it was easier just to protect your ego.

What if you made a move and she wasn’t into it? Would she recoil like she’d been shocked by a live wire? Maybe she’d use one of those hurtful words that you’d only heard while kissing girls outside of bars in the city. It was less painful to not take the chance. At least this way you could admire her from afar — on your lunch break, while she was dressed in that adorable uniform that fit her so well.

“Why don’t you go with her, Robin?” Steve said, ripping you out of your daydream and forcing fear up your spine like the knived fingers of Krueger himself. “You love the Elm Street movies.”

Robin’s baby blues widened from sudden anxiety. She used them to stare at Steve frantically, as if he hadn’t been the one to just thrust her into this situation in the first place. Instead, all she received from him was raised eyebrows and a humored smile while her own mouth failed to produce words.

“I, uh—” Robin stuttered, “I think I close tonight, actually!”

“Negative. Harrington closes tonight.” Eddie replied with cheek. Of course he had his own boyfriend’s work schedule down pat. God only knows how they defiled that check-out counter once Robin left those two alone in the evenings.

You cocked an eyebrow at her. The way your bubblegum peeked out from between your teeth when your lips parted into a smile had her wondering how sugary sweet it tasted — how sugary sweet you tasted.

“Don’t wanna be seen in my hatchback, Buckley? I’ll let you play DJ on the way there.”

Robin could feel the blood pumping through her veins. Every beat of her heart became so increasingly violent she could hear it in her ears. Of course she wanted to sit shotgun to you while you toted her around, but even the occupation of passenger princess came with its anxieties. What music to play, directions to give, do you hold a conversation or is that too distracting?

“Yes.” She burped out, and it sounded much like a bubble popping or a bullfrog croaking late in the night. All three of you looked at her with confusion.

“Yes, what?” You asked. “Yes, we’re going?”

“Ye—yeah, that. Let’s go!” She continued after flitting her eyes to Steve and then immediately away. “I get off at six, movie starts at seven. Pick me up at my house?”

She followed the question with that nervous, adorable half-smile you often saw — and adored — right after she did something embarrassing, but there was no excuse to be embarrassed here.

“Okay.” You said with disbelief. “Okay, yeah. You live off of Rosewood, right?”

She nodded through a broken grin and you began backing up toward the door. There was still plenty of time left on your lunch break, but suddenly Family Video felt even hotter than late August in Indiana and you needed air. Why was there no air in this goddamn building?

“Great,” you said in time with the bell above the front door. “Cool. I’ll be there.”

**********

“Cool, you finally asked her on a date!”

“I didn’t ask her on a date,” you told Mitch, your coworker, for the fifth time. “And I don’t even think it’s a date! Harrington kinda just set us up on some weird playdate like moms do with their socially awkward kids so they can get some alone time.”

You’d been trying for the past two hours to sort through the boxes of new inventory, but with your brain so scrambled, Blondie and Bowie read the exact same. Besides, you couldn’t get that adorable pout out of your head. The way Robin had looked so pitiful when she’d realized you were making an abrupt escape from such a sticky situation.

Sticky, because sometimes being queer felt like a glue trap sitting on your skin. Like you were a little mouse frantically trying to pull yourself free, or a fly hanging midair on a strip of paper. Sometimes you thought it might kill you.

“What’re you gonna wear?” Tiffany asked from behind the register.

You looked down at your sprawled out form, comfortable and covered in records on the floor of the shop.

“This?”

“That?” She asked again. “You look like fucking Munson.”

It was true that you and Eddie shared a few qualities, at least when it came to style. The frayed hem of your shorts tickled your thighs and was mostly chosen for aesthetic purposes, but the cut off sleeves of your Iron Maiden t-shirt were purely practical. It was too goddamn hot to not show a little skin.

“Robin dresses like a fucking dad. I’m wearing this, Tiff.” You reiterated.

Tiffany shrugged and went back to her counting, as if to say something along the lines of, “It’s your funeral.”

You stood in front of your mirror after your shift that afternoon.

Would it be your funeral if you wore the same outfit you’d been seen in earlier that evening? Maybe Robin didn’t like the way you dressed. If she didn’t like your cut offs, this very well could be the death of something that hadn’t even started yet.

You held up top after top in front of your chest, shorts after shorts before your waist and nothing seemed perfect. You wouldn’t wear a dress to the movies with a straight girl – which is all that you could assume Robin was, and all she could assume you were as well. So you remained in your cut off shorts and Iron Maiden tank top while sliding your sunglasses off of your forehead to face the blinding late afternoon rays. Grabbing your keys off of the counter seems like a battle in and of itself, as if holding them in your hand meant that you had to get in your car and make a fool of yourself, but you combated that thought by snatching them up quickly. Hardly giving yourself enough time to talk yourself out of the date that you’d been set up on.

But calling it that was dangerous. Presumptions got people killed. That’s what Steve and Eddie and Tiffany and Mitch failed to understand.

You’d heard the stories in the city. They were talked about loudly while you flirted with girls at gay bars in Indianapolis — how another queer teenager had been killed, a casualty of the growing “gay panic” that seemed to be the excuse of every homophobic, bloodthirsty meathead that was looking for an excuse to rough someone up.

Those thoughts faded away with the roar of your engine, and soon you were heading down Peony Circle, then Dahlia Street, and then Rosewood Drive. You recognized her house from the many birthday parties your mother had forced you to go to as a kid, until birthday parties became uncool — or at least until Robin stopped handing out invitations.

She was waiting outside for you. And Jesus Christ, the way she knocked her knees together while sitting on the front steps of her porch caused you to pump the brake just a little bit harder.

You liked Robin’s freckles the most. You liked how they didn’t stop at her cheeks, rather decorated her body in constellations. Even her shins and arms. Now that she was out of her Family Video uniform and adorned in a more comfortable pair of shorts and tank top, you could see the spots splattered across her chest, too, and that alone made heat fill your face.

“I think I prefer your uniform.” You teased as she plopped herself down into your passenger seat.

“Oh, shut up.” Robin spat with no malice, but the rasp of her voice never failed to make your heart swell. “I can’t believe you don’t have one. How long do we have?”

You glanced at the clock on your dashboard and signaled a three and then a zero with your free hand while popping a cigarette between your lips with the other.

“Want one?” You asked.

And to your soul crushing dismay, Robin visibly recoiled.

“Gross.”

Immediately, back into the pack it went.

She chose a Joan Jett & the Blackhearts album for the drive, which was to be expected. It wasn’t like you had any Madonna or Bowie albums lying around for her to choose from. And even if it wasn’t exactly her style, Robin put her feet up on your dashboard and tapped her toes along to the beat of Crimson and Clover like she’d been here before. Like you picking her up and toting her around was an everyday occurrence. Like she belonged in your passenger seat.

“I got it.” You told her when she tried to hand you a few crumpled up dollars as you pulled up to the gate, then handed the teller a fiver. Enough to cover the bill for both of you. The drive-in on a Friday night was a lot like a no man’s land. Everyone in Hawkins seemed to flock there for a bit of entertainment and respite from the summer heat once the sun went down. The layout was structured:

In the first set of rows were families with screaming, playing children and nervous first dates. Little boys and girls running around outside of cars with bubble wands and teenage couples who got there earlier enough for a good parking spot, that way there was no pressure to make out or fool around in the back seat once the stars aligned. In the second rows were those that needed the stars to align. The lovestruck couples that couldn’t wait for the lights to dim over Indiana, just so they could get a taste of each other. The second batch or rows meant heated touches and wandering hands, fogged up windows and cries muffled into a cigarette burnt seat cushion. It was sweaty, once in a lifetime summertime teenage love that one looks back on well into their life and reminisces just for a moment before continuing on with their day.

Had you gotten there earlier, maybe you could have been one of those second rowers. God knows you needed the stars to align. You needed Robin to be like you, needed someone in this town besides fucking Steve and Eddie to be queer and not be afraid to show it.

Instead, you parked your hatchback at the very back of the lot, where high schoolers and washed up jocks roamed the gravel like lions during a feeding frenzy.

“You’re sure about this?” Robin asked, nerves settling into her throat and weeping out through her tone of voice. You could see it painted on her face when she glanced past you and noticed Jason Carver leaned against the hood of his car, still sporting his letterman jacket from three years ago.

“We can go grab a movie at work and go back to yours instead?”

“I think we’ll be okay.” You said while flashing her a half-hearted smile, “Just… lock your door.” But the look on Andy’s face when you stole another glance their direction told you that you would make a liar out of yourself by the end of the night, and there was something comforting about knowing that maybe the universe was about to start making decisions on your behalf. Concessions came around shortly before the movie began, and you bought a large popcorn and two sodas. You let the bucket rest between the two of you and were careful to not put your hand anywhere near it when hers was there — as if one touch was all it would take. The simple brushing of a few fingers, and she would begin calling you that ugly “F” word.

“Does Steve do this to you often?” You asked when there was hardly any light left in the sky. Just a few more minutes, and you wouldn’t feel the need to make small talk. You could enjoy the movie in peace and go back to admiring Robin from afar tomorrow, just like you preferred doing.

“Set you up on playdates, I mean.” You continued when she scrunched up her eyebrows in an adorable manner.

“Oh, uh…” She said while glancing down at her hands, and you were afraid then that you might’ve offended her. “He just wants me to make more girlfriends — FRIENDS! Friends, I mean!”

She stuttered, and her baby blues became wide. But she snapped them up to you, and as more words came tumbling out of her mouth, you were just thankful that she was actually looking at you again.

“Friends. I don’t really have any besides Steve and Eddie, but no, they don’t do this often.”

Now you were the one furrowing your brow, along with the cock of your head. You turned sideways in your seat to face her.

“You don’t think we’re friends?” You asked.

Robin shrugged. “Are we? This is the first time we’ve hung out since we were in grade school.”

“I come to see you every day at work.” You slipped.

And with those words slipped your heart.

Little did you know, Robin’s heart slipped, too. Right out of her chest. She would’ve bet money that had she looked down, that still beating organ would’ve been a bloody mess at her feet and she would’ve had to apologize for dirtying up your floorboards.

“You’re visiting me?” She asked quietly, mouth slightly ajar.

“Not Steve?” is what she wanted to follow with, as she was more than used to seeing Steve upsell like a pro daily with the ladies at Family Video — even if they did know that he was dating Eddie.

Even with the truth laid out before her on a silver platter, Robin still refused to believe it.

And by the grace of God, before you were forced to answer with a gut wrenching, moment defining confession, the big screen lit up and A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master began its opening credits.

You turned forward in your seat, and Robin continued to rasp her fingernail against the side of that sweating Coca-Cola cup as the movie played on. Anxiety riddled thoughts played out in her head in rapid fire succession, so quickly that each jump scare didn’t cause hardly a flinch as she stared forward.

You’d been visiting her. In your cut off shorts and tank tops that’s been sliced down the sides. Every day, for months. Had those movies gone unwatched, or had you actually taken all of her recommendations to heart and played them over and over again in the darkness of your living room? Had you invited another girl along to watch them with you? Maybe they hadn’t even made it out of the record store. You’d left them there overnight just as an excuse to bring them back the next morning to see her again. And you were punching yourself for talking so much. Because everything was ruined now, wasn’t it? Robin would know you were a dyke, a fag, and she’d duck into the back of the store every time you came to snag a peek at those constellation-like freckles that darkened with the summer sun.

But all thoughts, yours and Robin’s alike, came to a screeching halt when faced with that damned waterbed scene.

A beautiful blonde, completely nude, hair splayed out around her, breasts pressed against translucent rubber. She was unrealistic. Not perfect, just unattainable, but that was what made Joey — and you — so fixated on her.

You had to move. You could feel your limbs tensing up, as if they were about to creak like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. You slipped your hand to the center console to grab a fistful of popcorn. Even if you weren’t hungry, you had to pretend like you weren’t sweating bullets, right? Had to pretend that you didn’t feel like some undercover agent that was being talked about in the third person. But why did the girl on the screen have to be so pretty? You couldn’t help but to stare, and the warm butter mixed with the stickiness of summer air forced a whole new sensation to befall you. The sensation of everything closing in, of it all coming to a head, to an end. And then, there was skin.

Robin’s fingers met yours at the center of the popcorn bucket, and she was sure that her heart stopped. It might have minutes ago when that girl had popped up on the screen, but it was nonexistent now.

And you didn’t move your hand away when it met hers, despite it feeling much like a jolt of electricity racing through your entire body. That momentary effervescence, it was enough to get you through the stress of living in a world that didn’t understand.

But it wasn’t long lasting, as a chili dog thrown with the force of a football hit your back windshield full speed. You ripped your hand away from Robin’s, nearly knocking the bucket of popcorn all over her in the process.

“Fuck!” You mumbled to yourself. From the driver’s side mirror, you saw Jason and Andy approaching your window. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was Andy who tapped against the glass with knuckles calloused from years of playing sports, and you bit the inside of your cheek while rolling the window down.

“First date?” Jason grinned from outside of your car.

“Go fuck yourself, Carver.” You spat with immediate regret.

But then Robin’s elbow seemed to bump yours near the center console, and whether it was on accident or purpose you couldn’t be sure, but that skin to skin contact allowed you to ground yourself a bit this time around.

“Just trying to enjoy our movie.” You continued, and never once did you dare meet eyes with either of them.

Because last time you had, well, they’d seen too much.

You and some redhead tangled up in each other beneath a streetlight in a sparse parking lot. You’d thought you were the last ones out of The Hideout that night, but you’d been wrong, and they’d witnessed it all. Every bit of your mouth on hers, her hands around your waist, and the way you’d ushered her quickly into your car once you caught a glimpse of your audience.

“Right.” Andy drawled, and you saw him lean past you to look at Robin in the passenger seat. “Know what else she enjoys?”

“Andy,” You bargained with a nervous smile covered by your fingers, eyes closed gently so you wouldn’t have to witness the explosion of what could have been.

But Robin was already anticipating his next words, and her heart hurt for you.

“She’s butch.” He said loudly, “A fuckin’ dyke, y’know? Right here in Hawkins.”

There it was, the final nail in your coffin. You could feel the pity shedding off of Robin from the seat over, and perhaps that was the worst part of all.

“Come on.” She whispered. The blood and gore playing out before you was nothing compared to how absolutely gutted you felt inside, and Robin could certainly sense that. “Let’s just go home.”

“Home?” Jason teased.

From what little you could see through your back window, you noticed a third figure blocking your exit.

“So you lesbos can scissor it up in private? That’s what you came here for.” He continued, and your hand slowly made their way toward the keys that sat in the uncranked ignition. “Go on, give us a show. Just like you did at the bar.”

With the roar of your engine, Patrick McKinney scarcely missed getting snagged in the ass with the edge of your bumper. You peeled out of there, dodging roughhousing teenagers and kids that were just heading back to their parents with fresh buckets of popcorn just alike. You could hear your heart thumping like a drum in your ears, could feel the tears prickling the corners of your eyes — but you wouldn’t cry. Not yet.

It wasn’t until you pulled up in front of your apartment and let your knuckles soften around the steering wheel that you realized what you’d done.

“I didn’t — I didn’t mean to bring you back here.” You sighed while shaking away the thoughts in your head like an Etch-A-Sketch. “Like, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to—”

“I don’t think anything.” Robin interrupted.

She hadn’t put her feet up on the dashboard during the drive back. Hell, she hadn’t even put her seatbelt on — which was uncharacteristic of a hypochondriac. Instead, she’d sat there holding her hands in her lap, disbelieving of what she’d just found out to be true.

She wasn’t alone. In this small, backwoods town — there was someone like her.

You washed your hand over your face and contemplated where to go from there, and after a moment, you knew what you wanted to do.

“They weren’t lying, you know.” You laughed, and then looked at her for the first time in what felt like ages.

And the look you saw on Robin’s face, surprisingly, was not that of disgust. But one of hope. A light sheen covered her waterline, as if she’d just been granted her dying wish — kinship.

“I kiss girls.” You said while running your hand through your hair. “Like, a lot. Almost exclusively, actually. I just don’t want you to think that I was trying to bring you home, or that I was trying to pull anything weir—”

But everything past that first sentence was lost on Robin’s ears. The next thing she knew, her mouth was moving without permission from her brain.

“No, I kiss girls, too!” She blurted out, and then squeezed her eyes together with embarrassment.

You smiled, and she spoke quickly to save herself.

“I mean, in theory.” She corrected, “I would love to kiss a girl! I haven’t actually kissed a girl. I mean, it isn’t like there are tons of options in Hawkins. But if I had the chance — I mean, if the right girl came along—”

“Robin,” you interrupted, and her chest deflated with relief.

You reached forward to place a gentle hand on her cheek, and it almost seemed right that all of this was happening under the cover of the night. Like it was made easier for her because of it. You could feel the heat in her cheeks, and she could feel the pulse thumping away in your thumb as you brushed her temple.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You asked.

And with a sigh, as if she’d been waiting for you to ask since you’d first set foot in Family Video some months ago, she replied.

“Please.”

So you did. You leaned across your center console, and her lips were just as plush and pillow soft against yours as they looked. It was everything that you’d anticipated, everything that those second rowers back at the drive-in were chasing after. Robin tasted like a cotton candy summertime sunset that would soon fade into a cashmere sweater, and there was no better way to explain that other than the cusp of summer and fall was your favorite. She was your favorite.

When you pulled away, you could see by the way her eyes remained closed that perhaps you were her favorite, too.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fanfic #steddie #platonic stobin #stranger things fic #robin buckley angst #robin buckley fluff #stranger things

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merlucide · 7 months ago

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KIRA I HAVE IDEAS I HAVE IDEAS what about we get an... drummer otoya, bassist karasu and singer and guitarist reader??? (If your requests are closed or if you don't want to do it, it's fine, ok? No pressure!!!!)

BAND AU W/ OTOYA AND KARASU HCS

Notes: GIRL. IN LOVE RN?! I love this idea so much omg?! (Soso sorry for how long it took to get this out 💀)

wc: 700

warnings: implied fem reader, suggestiveness?

I was thinking the bands vibe would be like: Mindless Self Indulgence // Destroy Boys // wych elm (but you can ignore this ofc 😋) I was also thinking like calmer like The Neighborhood and Big Thief

The three of you have been friends since high school, bonding over your shared love for music. Together, you formed the band known as (BAND NAME) / Third Chance!

In the band, you, Y/N, are the lead singer and guitarist, with Karasu on bass and Otoya on drums.

While you and Karasu handle the lyric writing, Otoya gives his input, but you just ignore his suggestions. Sorry Otoya, we aren’t writing a song about ninjas saving hot babes <3

Karasu occasionally contributes soft vocals, adding an extra layer to the music.

(BAND NAME) / Third Chance is a well-known band, and your concerts are always packed.

At the end of each show, Otoya rips off his shirt and throws it to the crowd.

After gigs, the three of you head back to your shared hotel room to unwind and talk about the performance.

you guys either go straight to bed after that or watch some stupid movies.

Otoya definitely shows up at your house at like 1 in the morning to ask if you wanna go get some snacks with him and Karasu. If you ignore him, Otoya will throw rocks at your window till you accept your fate. (He'd yell but Karasu told him to shut up)

Both Karasu and Otoya enjoy skateboarding in their free time, they make you judge who is the better skater (Karasu)

Writing songs with them is a lot of fun, with everyone contributing ideas (including Otoya, when you let him). You are so good at lyricism, which sometimes leaves Otoya in awe, although he'll still insist he could do better.

Karasu hums melodies and plays what feels right while you experiment with lyrics.

Dating Headcanons!

Karasu Tabito:

Your fans adore your relationship and create countless edits of you two.

Otoya gets so pissy when he see’s them lol

When you're working on lyrics, Karasu loves to sneak up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

He's your rock when performance nerves kick in, soothing you with his touch and encouraging words.

Otoya hates you guys lmao

He’s just mad that he can’t get no girls and you both are so happy together. (( he is really happy for you guys though ))

Otoya pretty much third wheels all the time, literally every time you guys try to go out on dates Otoya will find away to come.

You both have custom picks made for each other <3

Whenever he like sees you he goes up to like “Oh hey rockstar~ whatcha doing hm?”

He loves holding your hand, you love it too, especially with his ring-covered fingers <3

Otoya Eita:

He's SO smug about getting a partner before Karasu did lol

Also poor Karasu, you both would be at Karasu’s trying to write a new song.

Then you and Otoya literally suck each other face while Karasu’s tuning his Bass on the floor trying to ignore the sloppy tongue sounds.

He gave up on telling you both to get a room.

He likes helping you choose your outfit for concerts (( don’t listen to his judgement, he has awful fashion taste )) he chooses anything that shows off your butt/boobs

Pulls you in his lap to apply his waterline-liner every time before you guys go out on stage (( Que groaning Karasu ))

Otoya frequently breaks or loses his drumsticks, so you always have spares on hand.

He calls you "swagger kunoichi/shinobi," …. Yeah sorry

taglist: @gigiiiiislife @sharkissm @luvingshidou @kurona-theshark @soleilonthesun @duckydee-0 @rinitoshisgirl

lol I tried to make both of their sections even.. 🧍‍♀️btw sorry for any misspelled words lol- I just cut my nails so I forgot how to type 😭

Made June 5th 2024

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suzukiblu · 1 month ago

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OMG! i love congratulations, it's a metaweapon 😍 And I'm so excited its on the WIP list this week!! Can we get another snippet please?

“Yeah?” he asks. “‘Cuz you said you don’t have free will, and those assholes aren't in any condition to be giving you orders right now. So you're coming with me, because I say so.”

"You also said you'd rip their nerves out," Match retorts, narrowing his own eyes at him. Superboy winces, then looks briefly sheepish.

"Got the idea from Nightmare on Elm Street," he admits. “Very freaky movie.”

#ana160951 #wip: congratulations it's a metaweapon!

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pupsmailbox · 10 months ago

Text

HORROR ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ abyss. adelaide. alex. allure. alluria. amnesia. amnesty. annabelle. archer. ash. asher. ashton. athena. axe. axette. bates. beal. belial. belladonna. bellatrix. bellow. billy. blade. blair. bleedesse. bloodiesse. bones. bow. briar. brute. bubba. buffy. butcher. cain. caliburn. calyspo. carcass. carna. carrie. carrion. casey. casper. chainette. chains. charley. charlie. chase. chi. chris. chucky. claire. claymore. clear. colt. connor. corpse. craven. cross. crypt. cybre. cynthia. damien. danger. derry. desdemona. dove. dracula. drow. elisabeta. elm. elmira. elvria. em. enigma. erin. eros. ethan. evelien. eventide. falchion. finale. finalis. finn. fleur. freddy. galatine. ghost. ghostesse. gladius. graves. grim. guts. harker. haunt. hound. howl. hunter. hush. ikino. jace. jane. jason. javelin. jekyll. jesse. john. julie. kateline. kille. killer. killesse. killette. killire. killyr. knifesse. knifette. krueger. lamb. laurie. lavender. lenz. lillith. loomis. lorraine. lucien. lucy. machete. mal. malice. massacresse. massacrette. max. maxine. megan. mia. michael. mike. mikey. molar. mors. morticia. mortis. myer. myers. necro. nephi. night. noir. norman. nyx. nægling. obsidian. onyx. ophelia. pandora. pearce. pike. pin. pointe. pointette. pridwen. pyper. quentin. raven. reaper. renfield. retro. revenant. river. roadkill. rosemary. rot. ryker. sabel. sabre. sacrifesse. salem. samara. sawyer. scum. scythe. seraph. serene. sharpette. sharppe. shaun. shelley. sidney. slash. slasher. slashesse. slashette. slashine. slashire. slashyr. specter. spite. survivesse. survivette. sybil. syd. talia. thomas. vein. verity. vesper. visage. viscera. vivo. warden. weaponesse. weaponette. weaponne. wendy. whisp. william. wraith.

PRONOUNS ⌇　aby/abyss. alien/alien. amnesia/amnesia. axe/axe. bat/bat. bite/bite. bla/blade. blade/blade. blood/blood. bone/bone. brain/brain. brutal/brutal. bull/bullet. bullet/bullet. camp/camp. carna/carnage. chain/chain. chain/chainsaw. chainsaw/chainsaw. chase/chase. choke/choke. claw/claw. co/corpse. content/content. copy/copy. cor/corpse. corpse/corpse. cry/cry. cryp/cryptid. crypt/crypt. cut/cut. dae/daem. dae/daer. dark/dark. de/demo. dea/death. death/death. dec/decay. decay/decay. die/die. eldritch/eldritch. elm/elm. evil/evil. fear/fear. fie/fire. fien/fiend. final/final. flesh/flesh. fog/fog. freak/freak. fury/furious. gau/gauze. gauze/gauze. gho/ghost. ghost/ghost. gloom/gloom. gnaw/gnaw. go/gore. gor/gore. gore/gore. gra/grave. grave/grave. gun/gun. gut/gut. hallow/hallow. haun/haunt. haunt/haunt. horr/horror. horror/horror. house/house. hunt/hunt. hush/hush. k9/k9. ki/kill. kill/kill. kni/knife. knife/knife. lash/lash. lethal/lethal. live/live. machete/machete. maim/maim. mallet/mallet. mask/mask. massacre/massacre. med/medical. medi/medical. monster/monster. murder/murder. night/night. no/none. pin/pin. point/point. point/pointy. pois/poison. prey/prey. pyr/pyramid. red/red. reveil/reveil. revive/revive. rib/rib. rip/rip. rodent/rodent. rot/rot. run/run. sacrifice/sacrifice. saw/saw. scream/scream. scythe/scythe. shadow/shadow. sharp/sharp. sharp/sharpen. sharpen/sharpen. sin/sin. slash/slash. slash/slashe. slash/slashed. slash/slasher. slasher/slasher. slice/slice. sly/sly. sni/snipe. sound/sound. stab/stab. stalk/stalk. steel/steel. step/step. survive/survive. survivor/survivor. tear/tear. thon/thon. tomb/tomb. trope/trope. vamp/vamp. victim/victim. voi/void. weapon/weapon. weep/weep. whisp/whisper. wound/wound. wra/wrath. ☠️. ⚰. ⚰️. ⚱. ⛧. ⛨. 🏥. 🏹. 🐀. 💀. 💉. 💣. 📿. 🔪. 🔫. 🕳️. 🛡️. 🥀. 🦴. 🧛‍♂️. 🧟‍♂️. 🧨. 🩸. 🩹.

#pupsmail︰id packs #id pack #npt #name suggestions #name ideas #name list #pronoun suggestions #pronoun ideas #pronoun list #neopronouns #nounself #emojiself #horrorkin #horror

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kisscara · 2 years ago

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pity party [scaramouche x gn!reader] ⎯⎯ modern au, minor angst, fluff

scaramouche claimed he's never come to care about his birthday. anymore, at least. since kindergarten and every other grade after that, not a single person cared to show up when they were invited. he clearly remembers sitting at the dinner table, party hat atop his head seemingly drooping in the sad setting of the room.

but there was another thing. he always invited the whole class, except for one person. there were a lot of rumors about you and scaramouche wanted to stay as far away from you as possible so that his classmates wouldn't mistaken him for being your friend. it'd completely ruin his image.

however, on scaramouche's eighteenth birthday, he wondered what would happen should he invite you. of course, he'll slide invitations in the lockers of the rest of his peers, but just like before, they probably wouldn't care to come. it didn't even matter if they didn't have a gift, just their presence alone would put scaramouche over the moon.

and so, he waited in the living room. every now and then, he'd play video games on his phone, hoping to wait out the arrival of his peers much more quicker but in reality, he was trying to get his birthday over with.

suddenly, the sound of the doorbell going off caused him to sit up from his slouching position. could it be? scaramouche tossed his phone aside and practically ran to the front door. he swung it open and his heart began doing somersaults in his chest.

you awkwardly stood there, waiting for him to speak up. when he didn't say anything, you took it upon yourself to engage the conversation. "happy birthday, scaramouche." you presented your wrapped gift for him with a smile. he idly stood, frozen as you placed the gift in his hands.

you welcomed yourself inside of his home, and that's when he finally snapped out of his trance. "that took me a lot of time to wrap, so i'd appreciate it if you viciously ripped it apart when i leave," you playfully commented. scaramouche carefully put your gift on the table in the dining room and a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

"this is a big occasion, isn't it? after all, you're finally an adult." you sat on the couch and scaramouche joined you. "um, yeah. listen, we haven't properly met before, right?" he asked. you murmured, "mhm, i figured you were avoiding me like everyone else." at that, scaramouche tensed up.

you burst into a fit of laughter, "c'mon, i'm just kidding! what's with the serious look?" scaramouche relaxed his shoulders in relief. his first party guest and he nearly screwed it over. you grinned, "i'm (name). they don't really like me just because... you know what, i don't know either but hey,"

you took a party hat from the table and placed it on your head. "i didn't know eighteen year olds still held birthday parties like this," you giggle, to which scaramouche replied in a flustered frenzy, "my mom put those out!" you laugh, "i get it. by the way, do you like horror movies?" scaramouche looked to the side.

"my mom still has me on a netflix kids account and she gets notified whenever i try making a purchase using my credit card..." scaramouche covered his face in embarrassment. you leaned against the couch, "you too, huh?" scaramouche looked up from his hands to glance at you.

has celestia sent down an angel for him?

you waved around a few dvd cases that came from your bag, "i used my friend's money to get these. i obviously paid them back." you stood up and crouched down in front of the dvd player on the tv set. "you ever watch a nightmare on elm street, poltergeist, scream, halloween... any of the classics at all?"

scaramouche shook his head and you flashed him a smile, "great, me neither!"

that evening, scaramouche lost track of time marathoning horror movies with you. the two of you ate the snacks from his dining room and hid under a big blanket, all of the lights turned off to set the right mood. he was grateful that you didn't question where the rest of the guests were, not once.

you tightened the grip on your popcorn bowl and scaramouche intently watched the screen. "i can't look," you squealed, covering your eyes. scaramouche couldn't help but let out a chuckle. he had a feeling that if he were watching horror movies alone, he'd be looking away as well. but he wouldn't miss this for the world.

suddenly, the front door slammed open and you and him shouted in unison. you fell off of the couch and scaramouche looked over. "oh, it's much too dark in here, it's bad for your eyes," ei tutted, turning on the light. she tilted her head, "kuni, who's that, dear?"

scaramouche gritted his teeth, "i'm busy, mom-" ei gasped, "is this a party guest?" she started giggling, "i expected this birthday to be like the rest but i'm glad you found a worthy friend, kuni! i'll be in my room, okay? don't stay up too late, you two!" you sat back down on the couch and exclaimed, "thank you, miss!"

the second scaramouche heard ei's bedroom door close, he turned the lights back off. "sorry about her," scaramouche muttered. the movie served as pure background noise as you remarked, "she seems sweet. where was she the whole time, work?" scaramouche mumbled, "yeah, runs a business."

your pupils dilated, "really? that's so cool, no wonder you have a ton of friends." scaramouche froze up from where he was sitting next to you. friends. in class, they'll act like his friends, but it's like they're strangers the second they step outside of the school grounds. i mean, they don't even go to his birthday parties.

"mhm." he rested his chin in his palm, "after this, are you going to pretend we don't know each other in class, just like before?" you perk up in surprise. "why would i? i have a new friend now ⎯ ah wait, i don't even know if it's mutual," you nervously corrected yourself with a sheepish smile.

scaramouche's porcelain complexion flushed red. "you... want to be my friend?" he asked in a small voice. "definitely! you're funner than i took you for, scaramouche!" you happily comment before tossing another popcorn into your mouth.

"okay. let's be friends, (name)." scaramouche gave you a smile and you smiled back. he looked at the television set. "by the way, funner isn't a word," he said. you complained, "is too!" scaramouche laughed. for the first time ever, he genuinely laughed with a friend.

a half hour later, you checked your phone's notifications. "oh, i got to go, my mom's car is outside." you quickly gathered your things and put on your shoes. scaramouche solemnly watched as you reached for the doorknob. "hey," at your call, he looked up from the floor.

"you can keep the dvds, i'll come back another time to get them. you can watch the rest without me or wait 'til i'm free. got it?" you winked at him and scaramouche lightly chuckled, "yeah, i'll wait for you." you waved, "thanks for the great night, scara! i'll see you at school tomorrow!"

and the front door shut with a click.

scaramouche's gaze caught your gift on the table. he made his way over and began to delicately unwrap it. he read the sticky note on the box, word for word. 'happy 18th birthday, scaramouche!! i don't know you too well, but i sewed this up myself. i hope you like it ♡'

scaramouche removed the top of the box and his eyes lit up. a felt doll that looked just like him. with caution, he took it out of the box, feeling as if he'd ruin this precious treasure so easily if he wasn't careful. he held it to his chest and sighed in content.

from that point on, he looks forward to his birthday, all because of one person.

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