#but I've lost the patience for it I guess
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"it sounds like your making up problems" ever since i've seen that post i've seen a few people doing that lmao
#mine#AM.txt#it's made me unfollow people too like#i guess with how stressed out i've been this last few months i've lost all my patience
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"i had to surrender my cat bc he's got incontinence issues and i'm just not equipped to deal with that"
i'm stealing your fucking kneecaps
#of all the fucking reasons-#1. that's really not a huge issue to have if you keep your cat home#2. would you give away a child over incontinence issues?? over any health issue showing up?? or was cat just that disposable to you??#like im glad i guess you took him to a shelter and didnt just abandon him somewhere#and apparently the staff might make him their office cat bc they love him#but god#'please be nice' my kindness is me not saying anything to you#im bitching on tumblr instead of the fb group we're both in total stranger#there are times - though not often - where i feel sympathy for the owner. where there really IS a good reason for surrender#but 9 times out of 10 its some real bullshit and i have no patience for that#i love animals to a super sensitive degree AND i lost my best friend (my first cat) unexpectedly in 2021 so yeah im a fuckin dick about this#at least its never to someone's face#its 10:26 AM#i've been in and out of sleep for the last 24+ hours and im tired and cranky and a little nauseous tbh#i was hoping to be a little productive today but i think i might go back to bed#maison speaks
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So... Another woman asked me starstruck 'how I lost my weight?' and im just uh
T... Thank you? But honey, I have nothing easy and quick to share :/
#miranda talking shit#The only two people who have complimented me for losing weight are two 40 yr old moms jsjfkskskfkxks#Its something i guess. They nade it sound like i had some crazy secret#Like ... No. ... I've just been trying to do this since autumn and not really done much active changes#Counting calors and 10k steps those are basically it. If i did actual workout id look better but i know myself#'i want to lose 7kg... But its so hard' yeah i... If it was easy people wouldn't be struggling yeah#She also said i had patience and im... The other lady said the same 😭 girl no i just dont see a difference in myself#Ive lost at least 30kg. I dont think i feel or look much different
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The BIG problem with "privilege" flex
Another reason why I insist on allowing everyone speak and be listened without "privilege" dick contest is the absolutely ABSURD penetrability of the whole thing in internet spaces.
What is the reason to be "cis"? No, seriously. Like, okay, cast aside situation within families and focus on westernised internet spaces - that are like... pretty much a place of dwelling and developing projects or even small business for many people these days, for sympathetic reasons or not, but it is a fact - these spaces are more needed than people who 'have real life unlike you online loosers' typically claim. Logically, what is the reason to id as cis here?
You get shunned from discussions, you can't have opinion on gender or expressions, you are permanently seen as oppressor and ignorant enemy, some mistakes (that everyone makes) are blamed on your identity and not on the person you are... Why not just change it? Society agreed that you don't need dysphoria for it - and if you think otherwise, you are a disgusting transmed and nobody will want you near, right? (I am ironising in case it isn't obvious) You don't even have to change much...? If you are a feminine woman - you can jump into being feminine she/they nonbinary without as much as the slightest change in your wardrobe, yet you will already get the power to shun them ignorant and malicious cis women for that. Especially there is no reason to be a cis man - you get blamed for literally everything and seen as stupid, violent sexist EVEN by cis women. Like... you didn't even do shit, you just exist as who you are and therefore cause people suffering and benefit from it or something. That's the narrative, right, and everyone who disagrees is 'handmaid' or 'MRA' or whatever labels woke people use as a mark of a person to bully and not show any respect to. Choosing to become a trans woman would instantly turn you from a class everyone hates (except for the disgusting incels and Trump mobs I guess???) into a very loved and supported and respected person.
What is the reason for being a bi woman? Tired of hearing how you are privileged and "will never understand" and safe because you "indulge in hetero behavior" and get side eyed as someone invalid in discussion if you do date a man? Just go with the route of saying you are a lesbian trapped in comphet behavior all of your life and need help weeding attraction to men society influenced you with! And if someone doubts your honesty - they are a bigot that doesn't let people discover themselves; yet you are automatically given more weight in discussions.
Okay, fine, I am ironizing a lot, but this is how things be. Like… You see the problem? With many things, there is just... no way to check? Like, there is no detector of how 'honest' someone's identity is, no exam to be 'accepted' as trans or even lesbian, someone just says they are this now - and that's it. Instant right to be mean to more "privileged" people.
It strongly reminds me of creativity debate. If only victims of incest/CSA can write fanfics about such thing - why won't someone who REALLY wants to tell a story like this just lie about trauma to be left alone? If only black people can participate in the event of redrawing characters as black - why won't some person of other race who REALLY wants to take part in the trend just lie about being black but not wanting to post selfies because they fear an EX stalker or something?
As long as you can ensure the disconnection between your persona and things that could harm you (for example, if living in LGBT+phobic place - ensure they can't learn a thing), you can just choose one thing over another and them internet people will instantly respect you more.
Choosing to change identity itself is not bad. What IS bad is combination of penetrability (not avoidable, can't pass or fail "identity exam") and ridiculous shift in who deserves more respect (AVOIDABLE). Again, there is no even logical point in staying the identity people will hate and see as an enemy. The only real reason, given you accept variety of people, is... honour? The whole 'yeah, people see me as enemy and silence and disrespect me for who I am, but at least I am honest with myself'. Like... doesn't. that state. sound. fucking. FAMILIAR?? Is this like... not the exact thing people were trying to exterminate?
I feel like history never teaches people that changing who bullies who is not the answer to any sort of injustice. Instead of swinging the pendulum the different way, you need to stop the pendulum from swinging altogether. And this IS, in fact, ironic that history teaches people nothing, given how often they use "historical oppression" to justify being outright malicious to groups of people based on what their 'ancestors' did.
It will also end up, if not already gotten this way, that more people in close proximity with internet and media (for this or that reason) end up feeling pressured into breaking who they really are. Why being seen as an enemy or not worthy to listen to and respect? And the inequality in discussions. This is exactly why I insist that everyone deserves to be heard if they extend thought, and have actual opinions rather than compulsively repeat some mantra.
Needless to mention that it should go both ways - if someone refuses to consider a perfectly logical take based only on the speaker being woman/trans/gay/etc, they are just as much of a prick. However, this clown internet turned into sort of a very hostile waiting game until which side chooses to compromise and have civil discussion without identity-based disrespect - yet I very often see the "privileged" people being open to listen and consider most of the time, but woke people never having enough and witch-hunting others for smallest disagreement based on identity and always saying that they do not have to do anything! They do not owe anyone respect or basic logic! They are "oppressed" so that somehow gives them right to deliberately damage discussions and antagonise people and not put any effort into peace, and then be surprised why, after they did nothing to ensure civility, they only gained more enemies? Well, they are not really surprised - they know the answer. For them the answer is always that the opponent was too "privileged" - therefore evil and ignorant.
What matters is WHAT is said, not WHO says it. In every discussion. Appeal to the presumed motivation is counter-productive. And lets not ignore that everyone has a right to still agree to disagree and mind their own business away from you, regardless of who they are. This shift in rights for respect and civility will cost people identity crisis and needless fights, if not worse.
#internets#/vent#disco horse#use later#i really do not know which god i should pray to to recover my patience because i've lost it and it just doesn't heal back#i mean sooner or later i will stop caring and just go full individualist mode#only appear in the internet to share memes and art but nothing of 'self'#it seems like the (not too bad) ending most people like me come to but past age of like... 27? 28?#i guess i am just too young to stop being angry about how absurd things became but also too old to be shunned based on identity either#it is a bad age. too old to cope but too young to just not care at all#brb gonna hibernate for 2 years and wake up in complete internal peace and distance from all earthly dsffdsgsdf#like honestly if i had a coin every time someone older tells me 'i was like you but i just stopped caring about the clownery'#i'd probably pay all my debts fjshhdfsfds#siiiiigh...#this is still frustrating#none of this is right or fair or justified
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Francesca
old!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: angst, mentions of death, sad logan, a bit of fluff
wc: 800+
a/n: not sure if this will be the last part of the mini-series or not. i think i'll only add more if im inspired. i have a new mini-series idea for old man!logan so be on the lookout for that in a week or so.
hozier mini-series masterlist
-ˋ�� ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
Logan had lost a lot in his life. He watched people he cared about die right before his eyes; the ultimate curse of living such a long life. Everyone he loved had to go at some point, and for the most part, he accepted that until you entered his life.
He did everything he could to ensure your safety, and for the most part, it worked. The only place where you weren't protected was in his nightmares.
Ever since you two met, the nightmares appear less and less but they also never fully disappear either. Logan still wakes up in cold sweats and haunting images of your bloody body dead in his arms.
"Hey! Hey! I'm alright, honey." You whispered in an attempt to bring him back to reality. "I'm here. I'm right here."
The only thing that helps him calm down is when you place one of his hands over your heart; skin to skin, feeling your heartbeat pulse and knowing that you are indeed alive and lying next to him.
Logan's heavy breathing eases after a few moments. He carefully wraps you into his arms, placing you on his chest. You knew in times like these that Logan needed to feel you.
"No one's going to hurt me." You assure him.
"We don't know for sure..." He sighs. "and I can't risk that."
"I know for sure. You know how I am so certain that no one will hurt me?" You don't allow time for Logan to answer. Your fingers lace themselves with his, bringing this hand up to his and softly placing kisses over the slits in between his knuckles. "Because I feel safest with you and these claws are part of the reason why."
Logan wasn't one to blush or feel all mushy deep inside himself but those little kisses amazed him. He admired your kindness and patience towards him. It took him forever to understand how you did it.
"Sorry for waking you up, princess." He says, trailing his fingertips up and down your back. "Didn't mean to scare ya'."
"Do you honestly think I scare that easily?" Your light giggle almost makes Logan smile.
"Guess not." He shrugs, admiring how a sliver of moonlight catches on your face. "But in any other normal relationship you wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit-"
"Hey!" You whisper, springing up to fully face him now, soft hands holding each side of his face. "This isn't bullshit."
"It is, sweetheart." Logan sighs. "I'm selfish."
"How are you selfish?"
"Because you deserve to live a long life with someone who won't damn you."
"I don't care if you damn me!" Your voice raised, not in anger but in passion. "I love you. I love all of you. When they cut me open someday that's all they will find; my love for you pouring from inside of me."
Logan pulls you impossibly closer, afraid of you slipping away. His heart pounded with love; beating solely for your existence.
"Heaven couldn't house a love like ours."
There's a heaviness in your heart as you look into Logan's hazel eyes. even after all these years, it broke your heart that Logan always felt like you were made of sand. sure, you weren't a mutant like him but you wouldn't go down without a fight. he's always afraid that someone from his past will come for revenge and you'll be the one to pay for it.
"I don't want you to be so worried, lo.." you whisper, thumb soothing the salt and pepper beard that's bloomed over the last few days. "when my time comes, I don't want you to feel responsible for it."
Death was always a sensitive topic for both of you. your death, more specifically because someday it will come no matter if either of you is ready or not. Logan doesn't think he can live without you; you tell him that he's survived before you and will survive after you. he doesn't believe you.
"I've waited all my life for you. every agonizing, torturous moment brought me to you." his voice starts to strain. "now, you are all I have left to live for... so, when you're gone, babydoll, I won't be far behind you."
Tears roll down your cheek. overwhelmed with love and fear because you can't stop Logan from taking his own life if you die. he lays you back down on his chest carefully.
Logan had seen everything the world had to offer him; most of it was utter shit until he was graced with your presence. all he wanted to do with the rest of his life was shield you from all of the horrid darkness he had seen. you were too pure and he intended to keep you far away from it all, for as long as the two of you walked this earth.
#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#logan howlett#hugh jackman wolverine#wolverine angst#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett angst#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett fanfiction#logan wolverine#old man logan x reader#old man!logan#wolverine fluff#wolverine one shot#wolverine x oc#wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine x you#x men oc#x men comics#x men#marvel cinematic universe#marvel#mcu#hugh jackman
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You've made a lot of really great posts about transmasc experiences and struggles, and they really resonate with me! So I guess I want to in complete earnest ask: why the push for 'transandrophobia' when anti-transmasculinity as a term has been around for longer and faces little friction by comparison? I don't really *dislike* transandrophobia, but its meaning gets muddied everywhere from different directions, while ATM is pretty direct and succinct I feel. It's very clear that it's about TRANSmasculine oppression. I'm not against having a dedicated term at all, but the content of our struggles gets lost in the weeds of attaching kind of understandably divisive terms like misandry and androphobia in an attempt to mirror a phenomenon very specifically about misogyny; it seems more trouble than it's worth considering ATM is right there
I'll be honest, this ask is confusing to me for a few reasons.
When I started talking about transandrophobia around the summer of 2020, the conversations I was encountering were very much, like, a handful of people across Twitter and Tumblr (literally, a handfull!). I picked up "transandrophobia" because it was one of two words I saw in use, and the other- "transmisandry"- felt much less clear and much more contentious. It seemed super obvious to me that people would draw a line from "men's rights activists" trying to push this idea that "misandry", as a systemic oppression of men by women, to "transmisandry", and assume some ill intent where there was none. It's confusing!
"Transandrophobia" was the better of two options being floated at the time, at least in any conversation I saw. "Anti-transmasculinity" was not really a term I'd been made aware of, if anyone at all was talking about it at the time.
I have seen people pick up "anti-transmasculinity" more recently (maybe in the last year?), and this is definitely the first I've seen someone shorten it to "ATM". The people I've seen use that term have been mostly people who seem really new to the conversation, and the vibe I've gotten has been very, like, "we're the Good Transmascs, our word isn't dirty and gross like those other Bad Transmascs everyone hates. you'll listen to us now that our word is Good and Pure, right?"
Which is like... kind of frustrating, and kind of sad, honestly. I think these people honestly believe that if they just choose the right word, all the people who've been dragging me and every other transmasc talking about these issues through the mud for the last 4 years or so will really just stop & listen. If they can just say it right, these people- who have been relentlessly harassing and spreading lies about every single transmasc who came before them for years now- will care what they have to say, and will be willing to engage with them in earnest, compassionate dialogue.
If you just find the right word, all of these people will care about your hurt, your pain, and the suffering of your community.
It kind of breaks my heart. It's an incredibly hopeful, kind, loving way to view the world. It's compassion and patience and forgiveness that these folks are not being given, but that they so badly want to offer to others.
And at the same time, it sucks to be the Bad Transmasc. It sucks to have fought so hard for so long, and for the people I've been fighting for all this time to turn around and say, "you're gross, and dirty, and evil, and everything you've done is a mistake." It sucks to see the people I've been fighting for agree with the people I've been fighting against, and shove me under the bus in an effort to appeal to the people running me over with it. Knowing that the bus is going to aim for them once it's done with me just makes it sadder, yknow?
@saint-speaks wasn't the first person to ever speak the word "transandrophobia", but he is the one who coined and popularized it in its current form. And then he was dragged through the mud so hard and so brutally that some people think I coined it, just because when I defended him (too little and too late, imo) I withstood the mud-dragging better than he did (and gee, I wonder white.)
And now people take for granted that everything everyone said about hymn to justify that frankly fucking evil harassment campaign was true, actually, and we should abandon the word he coined and find one with purer origins.
If you honestly think "anti-transmasculinity" is just a more practical word, that's fine. I don't care what word we use. But they're going to cover it in mud, too. They're going to cover every one of you in mud.
Will you keep fighting for "ATM" once they make it the new dirty, gross, bad, evil word? Will you keep fighting when they drag you and everyone else through the mud for using it? Or will you agree with them, make up a new word, and never look back?
Please don't let us drown in the mud. We've been fighting for you, and we want to fight with you. Please.
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Pay attention to me
Peter Maximoff x Reader
Fluff ?
You’re hanging out in your best friends room (his moms basement) but he’s not paying attention to you too, focused playing his arcade games. After calling his name multiple times, you throw a pillow on him to have his attention.
(I think I saw this prompt somewhere but can’t remember so I’m sorry if it has already been made)
The soft hum of arcade machines filled the room, their neon lights flickering in the dim space. Peter Maximoff’s room had a sort of chaotic charm, cluttered with comics, old rock band posters, and an impressive lineup of retro games blinking in the corner. It was his sanctuary, a place where time seemed to slow down for him, but speed up for everyone else.
You sat cross-legged on his bed, watching him intently. For the past hour, he had been glued to the game screen, his silver hair falling into his eyes as his fingers deftly pressed the buttons on the machine. Occasionally, you'd try to start a conversation, you even tried to throw insults, but all you'd get in response were grunts or absentminded murmurs, his focus solely on defeating whatever boss he was facing.
"Peter" you sighed, stretching out your legs, hoping for a sliver of his attention.
No response. The sounds of rapid button mashing intensified.
“Babyyy” fake crying, thinking this will maybe catch his attention, but to no avail.
You rolled your eyes. Of course, this was how it was with Peter sometimes. As much as you loved hanging out with him, he could get lost in his games for hours, completely tuning out the world around him — including you.
Frustration started to bubble up in your chest. You were losing patience. Glancing around the room, your eyes landed on a pillow resting nearby. An idea sparked in your mind.
Without hesitation, you grabbed the pillow, stood up, and hurled it at him with all the force you could muster. Thinking that with all his focus being on his game, his speedy abilities wouldn’t be useful. You were right.
…
The pillow hit him square in the head, causing him to jolt in surprise. His character on the screen met an untimely demise as Peter finally looked at you, blinking rapidly.
"What the hell was that for?"
"For ignoring me," you shot back. "I've been sitting here for ages, and you haven’t even glanced my way."
Peter raised an eyebrow, pushing his silver hair out of his face, a grin playing at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, come on. You know I can multitask."
"You call that multitasking?" You gestured toward the screen, where his character lay defeated. "Doesn't look like you're doing so well to me. Plus why do you even call me over if all you’re doing is playing your games.”
He chuckled, leaning back against the machine, his posture casual, though there was a spark in his eyes now, a shift in the atmosphere. "Alright, alright. You want my attention? You got it."
There was something in his voice, low and teasing, that made your heart skip a beat (but this wasn’t unusual).
You had known Peter for years, but this, this felt different. There was a tension now (or maybe you were hoping), as his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did.
You swallowed, suddenly feeling a little flustered under his scrutiny. "It took a pillow to the head for you to notice me, huh?"
He smirked, stepping away from the machine and slowly walking toward you. "Guess you gotta do what you gotta do." His voice was playful, but there was something else there, something that sent a shiver down your spine.
Before you could react, Peter grabbed the pillow you had thrown and tossed it back at you, but much more gently this time. You caught it, your fingers tightening around the fabric as the two of you stood there, only a few feet apart now. The space between you seemed to shrink by the second.
“So,” he said, his voice dropping a little as he looked at you from under his lashes, “what else do you have in mind to get my attention?”
The challenge in his tone was unmistakable, and it made your breath catch in your throat. You had always had this playful, teasing dynamic with Peter, but this felt like it was teetering on the edge of something more, something unspoken that neither of you had acknowledged until now.
You bit your lip, feeling the tension growing. "I could throw something else," you teased, though your voice came out a bit shakier than you intended.
Peter’s eyes flickered to your lips, and for a split second, you swore the air around you crackled. He was close now, closer than he’d ever been before. His usual cocky demeanor seemed to falter just a little as he took another step forward, closing the gap entirely.
"Or..." he murmured, his voice soft, "you could just... ask."
“I did…” you mumbled.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, every nerve alive with anticipation. The playful banter was gone, replaced by something more serious, something more intense. His eyes were locked on yours, and the world seemed to slow down for once, even for him.
Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his chest. The moment your fingers made contact, Peter's breath hitched, and he leaned in, his face inches from yours.
“All you had to do was ask," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours as he spoke, the proximity making your head spin.
And then, finally, his lips were on yours.
The kiss started slow, almost tentative, like he wasn’t sure if this was okay, if you wanted it as much as he did. But the moment you kissed him back, everything changed. Peter's hand came up to cup your face, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, years of tension and unsaid things pouring into that one moment.
The world outside his room didn’t matter anymore. The arcade machines, the games, even the time itself—all of it faded away as you lost yourselves in each other.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and a little dazed, Peter rested his forehead against yours, his grin lazy and satisfied.
“Well," he said, still catching his breath, "that was definitely more fun than any game I’ve played today."
You chuckled, your fingers still tangled in his hair. "I’ll keep that in mind the next time you decide to ignore me."
His laugh was soft, but his eyes were serious as he looked at you. "Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again."
And you knew he meant it.
#peter maximoff x you#peter maximoff x reader#peter maximoff x y/n#peter maximoff fanfiction#peter maximoff fluff#xmen quicksilver#evan peters#peter maximoff imagine
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Armin Arlert x fem.reader
TW: 18+ content, first experience(for both), loud sex, light femdom (in beginning), handjob, cumshot, kunilingus, very sweet, soft and gentle, SOOOOO comfort
unproofed
"Oh my God.... Ah... this is.... Mmm, ha...." from his barely parted lips, these moans came out, so sweet, so pleasant and affectionate. His high-pitched voice just went through your body and stayed there, making you already squeeze your legs from the excitement you were starting to feel at that moment. You didn't understand how a person's voice could be like that, how sounds could flow through the air, envelop you, sink into your ears, making you shiver through your whole body. That's exactly what Armin's moans were like. Sweet as wild flower honey, which stretches down in a trickle, folding in smooth steps.
Guess you just ran out of patience. You are tired of this cute boy looking too beautiful and sexy, and absolutely denies it, which is why you can't get any more pleasure from him than hugs and kisses. Although you're sure that he could use it all the time and fuck the whole city if he wanted, just by looking at some girl with his big clear eyes and winking after her.
You just liked boys who cum. Especially thin, light-skinned boys who quietly (although it seemed to you, being in an empty room in which there were no other sounds, that he was doing it insanely loudly) moan under your hands, their cock twitches from their own excitement, and the head beats against a flat stomach, on which his muscles are so beautifully manifested, the moment you let go of their length, leaving them just twitching.
You and he didn't have any experience before. Apart from jerking off in the middle of the night when both were thinking about each other. But it was enough for you just to see Armin with a morning boner once to clearly decide that you fucking want this guy. Even though he was not the tallest, not the strongest build (although his body definitely had muscles, the military department definitely worked on his body), Arlert still seemed very hot to you. Too much. And what you saw that morning made you almost ache with desire.
So now you were sitting in a chair across from Armin, sitting on the edge of his bed, clutching the blankets with your palms while you tightly squeezed his throbbing cock. He squeezed his eyes shut and his cheeks burned red because he still couldn't come to terms with his nakedness.
His brown trousers and boxers were pulled down to his ankles, and a white short-sleeve shirt was unbuttoned and open, which hung on his elbows because he did not have the strength to take it off completely, and it was the only thing that somehow covered him.
You never thought that you would feel so calm, so open during your first time, and even more so to be in charge of this process. But when you met a partner like Armin, you realized that you would definitely dominate. You had enough confidence to make this boy moan with pleasure and cum.
So in the beginning, when you were just sitting on his bed and he kissed you, lightly touching you with his lips, gently holding your head in his hands, stroking your soft cheeks with his thumbs, and then you suggested... doing something more serious. And then you slowly moved your lips from his lips to his cheek, down to the sharp line of his jaw, smoothly flowing to his neck, gently kissed the trembling adam's apple. "Would you like me to... well, we... something more intimate." at the moment, you were a little lost and didn't know what to say. You wanted to get permission from Armin first, and only then act, because if he's not ready for this yet, you definitely didn't want to put pressure on him. "No, I... I absolutely don't mind, sweet, I've always wanted it, and you're amazing, and I always want you, I mean, I... only if you want to, but you might be disappointed, and I'm afraid of that, and..." Arlert rattled off all this quickly, looking away from you, clearly not expecting you to immediately start unbuttoning his shirt and talking about how handsome and amazing he is.
He involuntarily tried to squeeze his legs when you began to slowly and carefully take off his pants and gray boxers, but your knees between them prevented this. Armin was burning all over, his skin was insanely hot, and his face was red: his cheeks, nose, and ears were on fire. "Sweet, you don't have to...." cover your face when his erect, damn hard cock is in the air and in your sight. He wanted to just pull his pants back on and run away, or just cover his aroused organ with his hands, but at the same time... he wanted it so much. "Armin. The sun." you began to speak softly, slightly rising from the chair on which you were sitting so that your face was in front of him, to make it seem as if you did not see his trembling cock, but only looked into his eyes. "You're amazing. You look absolutely gorgeous. You have nothing to be shy about, you look very beautiful, just incredible."
Now you squeezed his length harder and moved your hand faster up and down, immediately seeing this reaction: how his mouth opened, how his blond eyelashes fluttered, and the pelvic muscles tensed even more. "Sweet, I can't... o my gosh, ah..." Armin couldn't speak clearly, he was constantly breaking down into moans and heavy breaths of air. "it's too... too good..."
He was so damn sensitive. Too much. When you just touched his bulge in his pants, Armin had already jumped on the spot. His nerve endings couldn't handle it because no one had touched him in such places before. Although, he had almost the same reaction to your every touch. The way you ran your hand over his abs after you unbuttoned his shirt, the way you played with the skin above the edge of his boxers, causing his hips to tremble in a spasm.
And you definitely didn't expect Arlert to be so responsive. He absolutely couldn't hold back his moans, because for all the time that you were playing with his cock, he didn't stop talking for a second. You thought that Armin would be as silent and not involved in the process as possible, but... he exceeded all his expectations.
"It seems to me... mmmm, ah... if you continue the same way, I will finish soon..." Armin chirped softly, in his high voice, opening his eyes for a second, but as soon as he saw you running your hand over his slippery cock, collecting from above the head what had managed to flow out of him, when he saw your face in front of him, and with what a soft smile and gentle eyes you looked at him, he immediately closed his eyes back, letting out another moan, this time much louder.
When you heard his words, you slowed down and began to move your hand again in very slow movements, going down to his balls for a long time, and back up to the tip, running your thumb along the urethra. Damn, he had such a beautiful dick. Not huge, absolutely normal, good size, slightly curved, with a bright pink head that you wanted to try to lick, see how this boy would react to it, how he would cover his face with his long fingers and moan again in his sweet voice.
«Sweet, it’s… oh, you…” Armin really couldn't connect two words. He was really just basking in the pleasure that you gave him. When you saw this, you accelerated again and thought that you could already let him finish. You've already tormented him with your gentle soft hands long enough to make him suffer even more. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would come much sooner. Armin was already a great guy for holding out for so long, because you thought he would cum much sooner. Probably because according to your ideas, if he does something similar to you, you will cum in less than ten minutes. «love, you… ah….!”
Your hand movements became much tougher and faster, and Armin almost fell back onto the sheets, unable to cope with it. You wanted to see this: how he cums, how his mouth opens in a final moan, and his hot sperm sprays from the tip of his cock, staining his stomach and chest, going down from the tip over your fingers.
"ahhh, it's too good, toogoodforme, I'm coming soon, ah, there are napkins on the table..." Armin muttered quickly, whose thighs were shaking from the imminent orgasm. Damn it, this boy was even thinking about you at such a moment, that suddenly it would be unpleasant for you to feel his discharge in this form.
You looked at those napkins and, continuing to jerk off his hard smooth cock, reached for the napkins with one hand, solely in order to wipe his body later so that he would definitely feel comfortable. You definitely weren't going to let him cum on a napkin. You wanted to see it in all its glory. You wanted Armin to see it for himself and understand that there is nothing wrong with it, and that he just has to enjoy the moment and feel his sexuality and beauty.
«I’m..I'm cumming, sweet, take a napkin... oh, my God!" accelerating to the maximum pace, you even grabbed the edge of the table standing next to you on the side, making final movements, after which Armin's muscles shook, and these high, such sweet loud guttural moans escaped from your chest, from which you yourself almost cum.
Arlert was surprised when he realized that you didn't move to take something in order to collect his secretions, and he wanted to do it on his own, but he couldn't do anything anymore, because the orgasm hit him so abruptly and so hard that his arms just gave way and he fell on his back. From the tip of his cock, his white, warm sperm flew out in a strong stream, staining his lower abdomen, flowing into his navel, reaching almost to his chest. Now he absolutely couldn't hold back, forgetting that the neighbors could hear him.
When the main wave of his orgasm passed, his cum began to flow down your cock and down your arm. For the first time, you felt the warmth of sperm, as a thick liquid envelops your fingers. When Armin calmed down more or less, his voice subsided, and his cock stopped spewing secretions, you let go of your hand from his cock, and just looked at your boyfriend for a few seconds. He was breathing very heavily, his chest heaving with each deep breath that his sharp ribs began to show under the skin. His eyes were still closed, and his mouth was wide open, frozen in a silent moan.
«sweet, oh my god… ah…. It was… gosh, it was so good... it's so amazing, babe, you did it so good...” Armin muttered softly, trying to recover from this. It was definitely his best and strongest orgasm of his entire life.
"I know, honey. You did a very good job too. You were very good, honey." you said softly as his cum dripped from your fingers onto his sheet. It was the first time you made a boy cum. And for the first time, when you saw cum live. And you wanted to try it. You knew about what it was like approximately, but…
Without warning, you bent down and just licked the hot red tip of his cock, collecting all the juices that remained and the tops. You felt this unusual taste, felt the warmth of his flesh. You felt what kind of skin is on the cock, what kind of taste and temperature it is, how smooth and pliable it is.
«sweet…? Are you.. oh gosh-“ at first, Armin didn't understand what was going on with his cock, because it definitely wasn't your gentle fingers, but something else, softer, hotter and wet.... "You don't have to...! Ah, you don't have to do this if you don't want to, babe, you..." a little panic seized him, but it was too good for him to say anything else. It's unlikely he'll be able to come after that, but just feeling your tongue on him was already something divine.
When you let go of his cock from your hands and mouth, you straightened up, and while Armin was recovering, you just looked at him. It seemed to you that this was the best view in the world that you could see. How his discharge glitters in the light from the lamp on the table, the result of his pleasure, how it looks on his toned muscles, how his cock fell exhausted on his stomach....
"Oh God, I'm sorry, it's... such a mess, didn't mean to..." Armin began to mutter softly when he finally opened his eyes and tried to sit back down, and saw what he had done. You just sat mesmerized, holding your hand on his hip, and couldn't get enough of the sight. Only then did you realize what he was talking about.
You knew that you really needed to put him in order a little, but ... at first you just bent down and wrapped your arm around his neck, gently kissed him, touching the boy's lips. At first, Armin was taken aback, but only then was he finally able to relax and gently answer you, with his eyes closed, gently crushing your lips between his own. "I love you, Armin. You did great. It was just amazing..." you whispered softly into his lips, now afraid to open your eyes to look at him. You cherished this moment too much to lose it.
"And I love you too, sweet. It was... very good. Very much." Arlert replied softly, feeling the cum trickle down his stomach. "But... babe, let me return the favor. Let me please you." You, focused on getting your boy to cum, completely forgot that he might want to... give you credit too. You didn't think at all that Armin would want to please you too.
You just nodded your head, not knowing what to say. A little panic has arisen in you because this will also be the first time when someone forces you to have an orgasm. But when Armin clung to your lips again, gently tasting them, feeling his salinity on them, you relaxed, and just gave yourself up to feelings, deciding to move with the flow.
Arlert briefly interrupted the kiss to take a napkin and wipe off the remnants of his pleasure, but as soon as it was over, he gently pulled you back to him, kissing you gently, gently, lightly running his tongue over your lower lip. Armin pulled you to him, grabbing you under his arm, and you were about to move onto his lap, but he wouldn't let you do it, instead laying you on the bed.
After making sure that you were comfortably settled on the mattress, Armin clung to you again, kissing you more confidently, more deeply and passionately. His tongue made its way into your mouth and gently intertwined with your own, feeling your and his saliva in your mouth, which was already just starting to flow out of their mouths, staining their lips and chins. Meanwhile, the boy managed to pull his Boxers and pants back on, as he still felt very embarrassed about his nakedness, although he left them unbuttoned.
After enjoying your lips enough, Armin began to slowly descend down your delicate chin to your sweet neck, exploring it with his lips and tongue. He ran his lips along the front of your throat, moved to the rapidly pulsating vein, running his tongue over them, and went further closer to your ear, and when he noticed that you twitched when he touched a specific place under your ear, where the cervical ligament was, he stayed there, paying more attention to this place attention. I kissed him gently, ran my tongue over him, gently bit him, feeling how your hips clenched from his touch, and barely audible moans escaped from your mouth, which you tried so hard to restrain.
Armin has remembered this place for the future and will always kiss you there. Long and sweet. But now he has reached the edge of the collar of your soft hoodie (or rather, it was once his hoodie, because only now he realized that he had not been able to find one of the same gray one for a long time), burying his face in it to reach your bulging collarbones. "Can I... take it off? Armin asked softly, briefly tearing himself away from your skin to look at you and hear your permission.
It was only when he heard you say yes to him that he hooked his fingers around the edge of the hoodie and gently began to lift it up. You deliberately sat up on the bed so that it would be easier for him to take off this hoodie that is not needed at the moment, and fell back onto the mattress with a heavy exhale, looking at Armin towering over your body, sitting on his knees between your legs.
Before he could cling back to your body, his spirit had already been intercepted. Damn it, you were still dressed, in your buggy jeans and a soft bra that hugged your breasts so beautifully... Armin swallowed hard and leaned back towards you, gently tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbones and chest. "You look amazing, sweet.” He murmured softly, sucking on the skin under your collarbone, feeling your chest rise with every breath. God, he wanted to taste those sweet peaks so much, they looked so good wrapped in a bra fabric. It seemed to him that his cock was starting to harden again, but he was not ready for another orgasm.
Having thoroughly enjoyed your upper part of the skin, Armin continued to go down, passing between your breasts with sweet kisses, stopping on your soft stomach, kissing every inch of the skin. He noticed how the muscles of your pelvis began to tremble when he passed his lips over the skin closer to the lower abdomen, above the edge of your jeans.
"Can I..." Armin was about to ask, but was immediately interrupted by you, who wrapped her palm around his forearm, "Hey, Armin. You can do anything to me. You don't have to ask my permission every time. You can do anything." You said softly, gently stroking his sinewy forearm.
Looking into his clear blue eyes, his rosy cheeks, you felt only love and a slight excitement, just because you got just such a man. He was so good. Hearing your words, Armin nodded weakly, moved his hands to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them with slightly trembling fingers. Taking hold of the edge, he began to take them off you, and you lifted your hips up for convenience, allowing your beloved to take off the bottom.
It seemed to him that his heart was about to jump out of his chest. When he saw your breasts in a bra, he was ready to faint, but when you lifted your hips while he was pulling off your jeans, seeing your simple underwear, how your pubic bone bulges, seeing your pelvic bones, seeing the place where your clit should be, just the place where your pussy is... oh my God....
Swallowing hard, Armin tossed your jeans onto the chair where your hoodie was already lying. It took him a few deep breaths to decide to keep moving on. After kissing your fragile knee several times, he spoke again. "sweet... if you don't want to, I can stop and..."
You really appreciated Armin's care. You appreciated it very much, and loved him for it with all your soul. But at that moment, you just wanted to roll your eyes, and for him to act more confidently and decisively. "Armin." you said his name more firmly, looking at him with wide eyes. Of course, you felt a little nervous, lying in front of a guy already almost naked. "I so fucking want you. And I've already said that you can do whatever you think is necessary. I already told you: yes." you answered in a gentle voice, slightly rising on your forearms, while Armin silently listened to you.
"Okay, okay, I get it." He muttered, a little embarrassed. But it was already damn hard for him to see you in just your underwear, which now he will have to take off you, see you completely naked, and also... oh my God, that stain on your panties. A wet spot. Everything inside him shrank, both his insides and his hearts. It took all his courage to lean back towards you.
"Then we need to... take this off too," Armin said softly, sliding his hands under your back to unbutton your bra. His heart was pounding madly as he clumsily stretched the fasteners, and when he did, he was afraid to move on, pull the straps off your fragile shoulders and expose your chest. Armin just hung up, so you sat down on the bed again, and took it off yourself, throwing it on a chair with the rest of the things, looking straight into his eyes.
It seems his heart just stopped at that moment. When you confidently threw your bra aside and stood in front of him in this form, he really tried to look you in the eye, but as soon as you lay back again, his gaze dropped to your breasts, and he could not look away. Their beautiful roundness, softness and protruding soft nipples drove him crazy. Then Armin clearly told himself that he would not back down tonight. And never again.
Although you acted confidently, you shrank inside yourself. It's the first time you've let a guy see your breasts. You knew you looked good, very good, but seeing Armin's stunned look, how lost he looked at the moment, how his cheeks flushed even more, you shrank inside. Relaxation came to you when Arlert was getting old. "Sweet... you look incredible… you are amazing..." Armin murmured with delight, and leaned towards you again, quickly kissing your lips.
He realized that he shouldn't slow down so much and be too careful. Therefore, after gently kissing you, Armin went down again and ... after looking at your breasts for a few more seconds, he gently kissed the skin between your breasts, feeling your natural smell. Damn it, it felt too good. You smelled just great, and you looked the same. "you look very beautiful... very..." Armin murmured softly and continued to kiss your chest.
He again liked the huge amount of strength to decide to move to your chest fully. Finally, he slowly moved to one of the halves, gently kissing the halos of your mammary glands, after which he got to the nipple itself, gently kissing its tip, which caused you to twitch your whole body, and a quiet moan came out of your mouth. Armin just barely touched you, and you were already reacting like this. Although, to be honest, you were ready to cum right now, even when Armin hadn't even had time to touch your pussy yet.
"Is everything okay? Is something wrong? Are you uncomfortable?" Armin immediately began to ask excitedly, immediately tearing himself away from your surface and looking at your face. He was really worried that he might be doing something wrong and that you didn't like it.
"everything is... just great. Stunningly. Armin, please don't worry, you're doing everything just perfectly..." you replied in a weak voice, just wishing Armin's lips were in that place again.
After hearing your words, he finally realized that your slight cramp and moans were just confirmation that you felt good from his touch. This clearly gave Armin an incentive and he began to feel much more confident, which is why he immediately returned his lip to your breast and gently cupped your nipple. Having crushed it in his lips, he gently licked it, tasting you. It was really sweet, and so pleasant, so soft and good, for him and for you in particular.
He lightly rubbed your nipple with his tongue, moving it up and down, after which he gently kissed the top again and wrapped his lips around your breast much more confidently, sucking your skin and nipples into himself, and released it from his mouth with a loud squelch. Seeing that you like it, Armin moved on to your other half of your chest, running a wet trail of kisses along the middle of your chest.
The thought that soon he would touch your innermost middle, see and touch this pussy, these labia, clit and hole, it all haunted him and he was really just afraid. But when he saw how you bent under his touch, how your back bent slightly while he played with your tender nipples with his tongue, how quiet moans flew out of your chest, how his name flew from your tongue tip, Armin realized that he was doing everything right, you like everything and you definitely want it.
So slowly, with his heart pounding madly in his chest, Arlert began to slowly descend down to your stomach again. Leaving another huge portion of kisses on your skin, on your ribs, above your navel, under your navel, at the edge of your modest cotton panties, which made you twitch violently. Armin even stopped because of this, raising his eyes to you again, as if asking if everything was okay, but... you were just so damn sensitive that your muscles started to shudder just from touching the lower abdomen, on the muscles closer to the pubis, and you couldn't do anything about it. Your body just trembled and shuddered from touching in these places. "It's okay. This is... normal. It's just... too good for me." you replied softly, after which he continued to move on.
Slightly lowering himself down on the bed, Armin settled himself comfortably between your legs and began to conduct a gentle path of kisses starting from your knee down your leg to the inside of your thigh, making you tremble and squirm under his touch. You really couldn't do anything about it, you couldn't control how your legs were very visibly shaking because of all this, especially when Armin lightly sucked the skin of your thigh, and his head accidentally poked the top of your pussy, which almost made you jump.
God, Armin was going crazy while kissing your hips. They were so soft, so gentle, and you were... so worked up. You was as responsive to all touch as he was. But it gave him a lot of confidence, knowing that you were reacting like that, and that you really only felt pleasure from it all. And when he saw it clearly on your cables, which only got bigger while the tone was kissing your body, he was ready to just pass out on the spot.
And being so dangerously close to your crotch, he felt. Damn it, he could smell your pussy and his head was blurry because of it.
"God, you smell stunning, sweet.” Armin muttered thoughtlessly into the skin of your thigh, completely not expecting that he would be able to utter such an obscenity out loud. Once he got a taste, he couldn't wait to taste this pussy, taste it, find out how her skin felt, how smooth and hot it was. And when you heard these words from Armin's mouth, you just opened your mouth in a silent moan, because it sounded so damn hot....
Your heart started beating even faster when you realized that soon Armin would touch you there. You were already madly aching with desire, your whole body was on fire, and between your legs was just crazy, so your clit craved touching it. You were ready to cum from the very first touches, you were so excited all the time while you were jerking off Armin's cock, and he was kissing your body.
Remembering that you told him that he could do whatever he wanted and that he didn't need permission to do anything, Armin only raised his eyes to yours for a second to get your tacit confirmation that he could take off your panties and start... What you and he have been waiting for.
"Lift your hips for me, sweet..." Armin muttered in a quiet, drunken voice because of you, hooking his fingers around the edge of your panties, and when you really lifted your hips to help pull off the last piece of clothing, Armin just closed his eyes, unable to look at your core, which was exposed in front of him, as soon as he pulled the fabric of the panties down to your knees, and then pulled them off completely, throwing them somewhere to the side when you lifted your legs up and helped him take them off.
When the last piece of fabric that somehow covered you disappeared, you wanted to bring your legs together and close up, but Armin's body, located between your legs, did not allow you to do this, so your ankles just rested on his shoulders, and your knees squeezed his head. Probably, it was after that that Armin was able to open his eyes and see your pussy shining because of the lubricant that had leaked out all this time, and he thought that this was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Because it only took him a few seconds to look at your pussy, enjoy the view of it, see the pea of the clit, and then furiously cling to your pussy with his mouth. He didn't even have to massage your clit with his fingers before that, so that the lubricant was released and there were no exclusively those alkaline secretions that remained in the vagina, you were already fucking wet.
Your back arched in a crazy arc when Armin finally lowered his head between your legs. It was too pleasant. First, he ran his tongue all over your pussy, licked the soft folds of your outer and inner labia, tasting your sweet-sour juices. But when Armin made his way further inside, and more confidently ran a soft tongue over your burning clit, it made you just howl and grab the sheets, squeezing them in your fingers, while loud moans escaped from your chest, which you could not restrain.
According to some videos from the Internet, he remembered that girls prefer either slow, sweeping movements with their whole tongue, or fast and sharp with the tip of a hard tongue. Armin realized a long time ago that porn videos cannot be trusted, so he tried to rely on other knowledge, but now, feeling panic because he did not know how to do everything right, and the great pleasure that he himself gives pleasure to someone, Armin decided to try everything.
And while he was trying to taste you, he ran his tongue in slow circles over your clit, feeling how it throbbed and how hot it was. It was clearly a little swollen and slightly raised, so this sweet clit was very pleasant and comfortable to lick.
Armin had never thought that giving pleasure to someone was so pleasant, even better than having fun. Because your moans, the way you squirmed under his tongue, the way your legs trembled was much more satisfying than when you made him come. No, of course, he liked it too, but knowing that you felt good, good because of him, was much better. So he tried his best. He was looking for the best way to lick your clit: he swung his tongue flat on it, sucked it with his lips, releasing it with a loud sound, and quickly clicked it with the tip of his tongue. But it seems that you responded insanely strongly to everything. Just because you couldn't hold back. But…
Damn it, you came too fast. It took you less than five minutes of Armin's tongue moving on yourself before you grabbed his hair and came as hard as you've never come in your life. No hands, no fingers. This is all due to your overexcitation and high sensitivity, because you were definitely not used to touching in such places. But it was definitely something you could get used to.
"Yes, yes... honey, yes, that's it.... Faster..." you muttered softly when you realized that your orgasm was already approaching. You grabbed his hair, involuntarily pulling his head closer to you while your hips squeezed his head on the sides. You couldn't leave your legs apart, just because they were shaking too much and coming together on their own, every time Armin ran his tongue over your clit or hole, picking up another portion of your lubricant.
After hearing your words, Armin continued to pull your clit with the tip of his tongue and lips with confident firm movements, putting all his strength and emotions into it. While he was shamelessly licking you, his hands wrapped around you under your hips, gently stroking them, periodically flowing to your soft stomach, running his fingertips over your pelvic bones and under your navel. You were so soft and gentle, smelling delicious and just incredibly amazing.
When you stopped talking and only grabbed his hair roots harder, squeezing his head with your hips even harder and falling silent, somehow Armin realized that at this moment he needed to move even better. Therefore, his tongue moved more actively on your clit, and his hands clung to your hips, leaving red finger marks on them. All you could hear was heavy breathing in and out, very heavy, as if you were struggling with something, and soon it made itself felt.
The orgasm has overwhelmed you. In principle, you have always experienced quite strong orgasms yourself, but what you have experienced now... It was growing fast in you and everything was getting ready to burst into crazy sparks, which happened. It went dark in front of your eyes, and a mindless, insane pleasure spread through your body, and you squeezed your legs even harder to feel it better. you completely forgot that Armin was still there, who kept licking your current pussy, but damn.... When you collapsed back onto the bed and finally let out a loud exhale with moans, because while you were feeling all this, you just weren't breathing. It was too much. It feels like you blacked out for a few seconds because everything was still swimming in front of your eyes.
It was only when your body, your legs completely relaxed, and fell exhausted onto the mattress that Armin stopped. He looked up at your almost immobilized body, only your chest was rising high with your breathing while you were trying to catch your breath from orgasm. It seemed as if you couldn't move, your muscles relaxed so much after that.
"My God, Armin..." you muttered only after a minute or more, and then barely audibly, because you had no strength, absolutely nothing. "This is... this is... fucking, this is too good." you managed to squeeze out of yourself with your eyes closed, trying to move at least your hand.
"You're amazing, babe. It's incredible." Armin replied softly, and finally got up, getting out of your legs, leaving a kiss on your knee, on your stomach, on your neck and on your forehead along the way, after which he moved over and lay down next to you, pressing his forehead against your temple.
#aot#attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#armin arlert x y/n#armin arlert x you#armin arlert smut#armin arlert x reader#armin smut#armin x reader#armin aot#snk armin#armin arlert#armin arlet x reader
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You Me Her
Since AO3 is down and I'm sure people are losing their minds looking for fics (I am people), I'm posting some of my fics over here. If you look in the tag "Mia writes fanfic" you can see all the fic I've posted on tumblr. If you prefer to read on AO3 now that it’s back up, you can find this fic here
Robin was the first person to notice something was wrong with Steve Harrington.
By the end of the day, everyone had noticed. People were whispering up and down the halls, wondering what had happened to Steve since yesterday to make him act so drastically different. He hadn’t flirted with a single girl all day. He’d told Tommy Hagan to “knock it off” when Tommy had started tormenting a freshman. He’d treated his friends weirdly – avoiding Jason Carver, a sophomore on the basketball team who he’d been training, losing patience with Carol Perkins’s snappish remarks, freezing up when some cheerleaders talked to him.
Robin heard all of this second-hand. King Steve was so notorious that even the band kids were gossiping about his personality transplant. Multiple people came up to Robin to share some tidbit of gossip that they insisted proved that Steve had been body-snatched.
But Robin didn’t need rumors to know that Steve Harrington was different. She’d known since first period, when he’d walked into Ms. Click’s class on time and without a bagel. Steve had barely glanced at Tammy, even as she’d looked at him from under her lashes, beautiful and enticing. Instead, Steve had, for the first time in his entire life, looked at Robin.
And he’d smiled at her. Not a polite acknowledgement of her existence – which still would have been more than Robin had ever gotten from him – but a huge, friendly smile. The kind that would have had most girls falling at his feet.
Robin glanced behind her to see if Steve was smiling at someone else, but unless Steve was smiling like that at Fred Benson – even more unlikely – he was definitely directing that expression at her.
Robin spun back to Steve, unsure what her face was communicating. Confusion, maybe, or wide-eyed shock.
Steve didn’t look offended or surprised by her reaction, just gave her a dorky little wave and sat down.
Robin stared at the back of his head, still trying to process what had just happened. Tammy turned to Robin, scanning her up and down. Robin knew she was just trying to figure out what about Robin had caught King Steve’s interest, but her scrutiny made Robin feel all hot anyway. It was Tammy, looking at Robin intently. With purpose. Taking in Robin’s stupid perm and her smudgy makeup and her layers of jewelry.
Robin blushed.
Tammy turned back around.
Ms. Click began talking, but Robin didn’t hear a single word for the rest of class, lost in thought. She alternated between loud mental screaming about the fact that Tammy had looked at her and staring at Steve Harrington’s famous hair and wondering what the hell had inspired him to notice her existence.
Robin was packing in a daze at the end of class when Steve gave her another smile before leaving. Robin accidentally met Tammy’s eyes, which were just as confused as Robin felt.
Tammy bit her lip, which was pink and soft-looking. “Robin? Did you talk to Steve over the weekend?”
Oh my god. Tammy was talking to her. It wasn’t like Tammy never talked to her, but every single time it made Robin lose her mind and babble like a freak.
Robin just shook her head instead of risking opening her mouth.
“Oh,” Tammy said, looking disappointed. “But you like him?”
“No,” Robin said honestly. “I don’t even know him.”
“But you like him,” Tammy said, and this time it wasn’t a question. “I saw you blushing after he smiled at you.”
“I guess so,” Robin said. What else was she supposed to say? She couldn’t tell Tammy that she didn’t give a damn if Steve Harrington looked at her and that the blush had been all for Tammy. That would send Tammy running the other way.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Tammy said. “A lot of girls like Steve.”
She didn’t mention that she was one of those girls, but she didn’t need to. Robin knew.
Maybe it would be okay to pretend to like Steve. It would give her and Tammy something in common and it would help her hide in plain sight. Steve was the perfect fake crush for a lesbian, pretty and athletic enough to be an acceptable crush, but unattainable enough that she would never have to act on it. Robin had never faked a crush on him before because of the principle of the thing, but now that she’d accidentally already done it, she might as well keep up the pretense.
“Today must have been a fluke,” Robin told Tammy, trying to sound both reassuring and lovelorn. She didn’t want Tammy to see her as a threat. She wanted her to see her as a friend. “I don’t think Steve even knows my name.”
***
But Steve kept smiling at her for the rest of the week and on Thursday, Tammy asked Robin if she wanted to hang out after school.
“Really?” Robin asked. Then, “I mean, yeah, sure. Sounds fun.”
So Robin went to Tammy’s house with the rest of Tammy’s friends. Apparently they did this every Thursday — Friday and Saturday were date nights, which made Thursday the perfect girls’ night.
They went up to Tammy’s room, which was like peeking into her mind. The other girls paid no attention to the room, probably having seen it a million times. They settled on the floor, spreading bowls of chips and chocolates around and pulling out magazines and nail polish. But Robin couldn’t help but try to take in every detail of the room. The walls were pink and the curtains and bedspread a gauzy white, giving everything a bit of a princess feel. But there were posters on the wall, and not the kind Robin had expected. There weren’t handsome movie stars — these were girls with guitars.
“Who’s that?” Robin asked, pointing at a poster of a girl with long straight hair, standing over a microphone and holding a guitar.
Tammy twisted to see who Robin was pointing to. “That’s Emmylou Harris. She’s incredible. She was one of the first women to really make it big in country music.”
“So you want to be like her?” Robin asked.
Tammy blushed a little, playing with the end of her long blonde curls. “I mean, I don’t know if I’m as good as Emmylou Harris. But that’s the dream.”
“You’re really good,” Robin said sincerely. “I heard you singing Kiss On My List before class the other day and it was-“ captivating. life-changing. beautiful. “Really good,” Robin finished lamely.
“Thank you,” Tammy said, looking touched.
One of Tammy’s friends — Olivia? — rolled her eyes. “Tam, we didn’t invite Robin here to talk about your singing. We want to hear about Steve Harrington!”
The two other girls — Karen and Melissa — giggled and nodded their agreement.
“What did you do to get his attention?” Olivia asked Robin.
Robin tried not to obviously deflate. She wanted to talk to Tammy about her passions, see the way Tammy lit up when she smiled. She didn’t want to gossip about stupid boys, especially not Steve Harrington.
But that was why they’d invited her over. Her fake crush on Steve was her in with these girls, with Tammy, and she had to make them believe her if she wanted to be invited to spend more time with him.
“I don’t know,” Robin said honestly. “I’ve sat behind him all year and I didn’t think he knew I existed. And then all of a sudden on Monday — bam! — he’s acting like he knows me.”
Melissa hummed, passing around bottles of nail polish. “Maybe it’s your hair? Did you perm it recently? Cause Heather Holloway says Steve has a thing for girls with curly hair.”
Tammy frowned at her own hair and shook her head. “Robin’s hair has been like that all year.”
Tammy had watched Robin closely enough to notice what she did with her hair? Robin bit down on a smile, grabbing blue nail polish from Melissa.
“Did you go to the party last weekend?” Karen asked.
Robin shook her head. She’s actually spend last weekend reading a book, listening to her language tapes, and playing board games with her parents. Nothing that could be remotely considered cool.
“Did you look particularly pretty on Monday?” Olivia asked.
Robin shrugged. “I think I just looked how I always do.”
Tammy put on a Kris Kristofferson record then sat down beside Robin again. “I guess we’ll just have to watch what he does in class. Collect more information.”
“I guess so,” Robin said, hoping Steve forgot her existence soon for her own sake. She didn’t know what she would do if he actually asked her out.
But maybe if he kept giving her attention she could keep this new friendship with Tammy, at least for a little while.
Robin sighed, loud and long.
“Don’t worry,” Tammy said, “We’ll figure it out.”
“And you don’t… mind?” Robin asked. “I know you like him too. I don’t want to break girl code or something.”
Robin had never worried about breaking girl code before, for obvious reasons, but she’d seen girls fall out over liking the same guy.
Olivia snorted. “Please. Girl code doesn’t count when it comes to Steve Harrington. He’s slept with half the school.”
“Yeah, everyone knows he’s just a good time,” Karen added. “He doesn’t actually date girls for real.”
“I went out with him for two weeks in middle school,” Melissa said. “We made it to second base and then he dumped me for Erica Tanner.”
“You’re in good company here,” Olivia promised.
Tammy still hadn’t spoken. Tammy was focused on painting her nails bright pink, a color Robin would never choose for herself but that perfectly matched with Tammy’s pink cheeks and pink lips, which she was biting.
Because Tammy cared, Robin realized. Steve might be the school slut, and he might never date a girl seriously, but Tammy liked him for real.
Melissa, Olivia, and Karen were now arguing over whether Melissa’s two-week fling with Steve Harrington counted as a relationship. They seemed sufficiently distracted, so Robin dropped her voice low and leaned into Tammy’s space.
“Do you mind?” she asked Tammy. “Because I can back off.”
“No,” Tammy said, smile pretty and entirely a lie. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Robin didn’t know what to do with that. Was Tammy trying to save face by not admitting she had a real crush on Steve Harrington? Was this her way of testing if Robin was worthy friend-material? How was Steve fucking Harrington Robin’s key to getting to know Tammy and also the one who was mostly likely to ruin this new friendship?
“Okay,” Robin said, staring at her nails so she wouldn’t have to figure out what facial expression was appropriate. She cleared her throat. “So you were telling me about Emmylou Harris?”
***
Steve Harrington came up to Robin at her locker on Friday, when she was getting the books she needed to take home for the weekend.
“Hey,” he said, like it wasn’t supremely weird that he was approaching Robin Buckley, band geek and wallflower and no one who ever should have caught his eye.
“Hi?” Robin answered.
Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go to the diner with me? We could get milkshakes.”
Robin stared at him. Was this a joke? A prank? Had one of his friends dared him to ask out the weird band kid?
“What?” Robin asked.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. He looked nervous, which was crazy. He was Steve Harrington and she was just Robin Buckley.
“I can drive us,” Steve said. “And I’ll pay.”
“I’m not going on a date with you,” Robin said. It was a gut reaction, but a second later Robin couldn’t help but wonder if she should have said yes. What was she going to tell Tammy about why she’d turned down her supposed crush?
But why was Steve Harrington even asking her out in the first place?
Steve didn’t look offended at her rejection, but he did hurry to say, “I know. I didn’t mean as a date.”
Robin looked down the hall. A group of cheerleaders at one end was watching them, giggling and tittering. Had the cheerleaders put him up to this? Girls could be vicious, but trying to embarrass a girl by having a boy ask her out seemed like a more guy type of prank somehow.
“You want to hang out with me just as friends,” Robin said skeptically.
“Yeah,” Steve said.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Right. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“I mean it,” Steve said. “I want to be friends.”
He was lying. Robin didn’t know why, but he was lying. Maybe he thought that if she hung out with him as “friends” she would eventually change her mind and agree to date him.
“Why?” Robin demanded. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”
Steve opened his mouth, then paused. He thought for a few seconds before he said, “You seem cool.”
Robin snorted. “I’m the furthest thing from cool.”
“No, I know,” Steve said. “I mean you seem… interesting. Nice. Fun.”
“You don’t even know me,” Robin said. “We’ve never spoken, and now all of a sudden you’re interested in me? I don’t buy it.”
“It’s true,” Steve said. He jumped as a hand landed on his arm and then Carol Perkins was there, staring Robin down with disdain in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Carol asked.
“I was asking Robin to milkshakes,” Steve said.
Carol gave Robin an up-and-down and it didn’t feel good like when Tammy had done it. Carol wasn’t admiring her. She was looking at Robin like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“Are you that bored of going out with pretty girls?” Carol asked, voice all fake-interested like it was a real question.
Steve scowled, shaking Carol’s hand off his arm. “Robin’s pretty.”
Carol rolled her eyes. “She’s not terrible, I guess, under that bad perm, but she dresses like a dyke. If you want to rebel and date a freak or a charity case, you can do better.”
Robin flinched violently when Carol said the word dyke. She fought to keep her expression straight even as her heart raced and her lungs constricted.
Did Carol Perkins know? Or had she blindly thrown out an insult, hoping it would hurt?
“Don’t call her that,” Steve snapped, his face dark and furious. He looked frightening enough that Robin skittered back half a step.
Carol didn’t look scared of Steve, but her mouth did drop open in shock.
That was fair. Robin was shocked too.
Was Steve defending her?
Maybe this was what it meant to be a girl Steve Harrington liked. Maybe he didn’t like Carol calling Robin a dyke because that was an offense to his own masculinity. That was the only thing that made sense. Robin had heard Steve throw around gay slurs just last week, so it couldn’t be the word itself that he had a problem with.
“Seriously, Steve?” Carol asked, haughty and judgmental. “You can’t actually like her.”
“Robin is great,” Steve insisted.
Carol rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ll remind you of this when you come to your senses.”
With that, Carol spun on her heels – red hair smacking Steve in the face – and walked away.
Steve’s posture loosened, like he had also perceived Carol as a threat.
“I’m sorry,” he told Robin, looking sincere and apologetic.
Robin hated him.
“Stay the fuck away from me” Robin told Steve.
She slammed her locker and walked away, clutching her books to her chest to hide her shaking hands. She kept her head up as she walked by the cheerleaders, who laughed loudly as she passed.
***
Steve kept smiling at her whenever he walked into Click’s class, but he didn’t try to ask her out again.
He looked a bit like a kicked puppy every time she glared back at him, but Robin didn’t care.
“What are you doing?” Tammy asked one day after class. “He’s going to give up on you if you keep glaring at him like that.”
“He asked me out as a joke,” Robin told Tammy.
Tammy frowned. “Are you sure it was a joke? I don’t think he would do that.”
“I’m sure,” Robin said darkly, thinking of Carol hovering and the cheerleaders watching. Did Steve believe what Carol had said? Was that the joke: to put Robin in a position where she had to either go on a date with a man she didn’t like or else turn him down and confirm she was a lesbian? What kind of girl said no to a date with Steve Harrington?
Tammy bit her lip. She had on bright pink lipstick today. It would have looked tacky on anyone else, but it made Tammy look like a pop star. Robin wondered if the lipstick was flavored. She wished she could kiss Tammy and find out.
“You don’t mind if I flirt with him, right?” Tammy asked, echoing Robin’s words at her house last week. So far, Robin hadn’t been invited to girls’ night again.
Yes, Robin thought. Yes, I mind. I mind so much, but not for the reason that you think.
“Not at all,” Robin said. “It’s like you said, girl code doesn’t apply to Steve Harrington. Go for it.”
So Tammy kept trying to get Steve’s attention. He was nice to her. He never outright ignored her when she talked to him, but he never talked to her for longer than politeness required. He would always turn away, missing the way Tammy’s face fell.
And he kept fucking smiling at Robin. Picking up her books when she dropped them. Apologizing to her when he got bagel crumbs on the floor, even though she’d never mentioned how much it annoyed her. Turning to catch her eye when someone said something funny, like he thought she was someone he could share inside jokes with.
Slowly, Tammy stopped smiling at Robin. She started flicking annoyed glances in Robin’s direction whenever Steve gave Robin attention. Started snapping at Robin whenever Robin tried to sympathize with her about how much of a douchebag Steve Harrington was. Started avoiding Robin unless Robin directly started conversation with her.
Steve Harrington was ruining everything.
***
“What are you doing?” Robin demanded. She’d chased Steve after Ms. Click’s class, following him to the little alley out by the gym. She was going to be late for math, but she didn’t care. She needed to talk to him before he ruined everything.
Steve frowned as he lit up a cigarette. “What do you mean?”
“In Click’s class,” Robin said. “Tammy is practically throwing herself at you but you never even look her way. And I don’t talk to you at all, but you keep trying to talk to me.”
A flash of something crossed Steve’s face, but Robin didn’t know him well enough to read his expressions and it was gone in a heartbeat anyway.
“You don’t want me to talk to you?” Steve asked.
“Yes!” Robin said. “No. I don’t know. Why won’t you flirt with Tammy?”
Steve’s face scrunched up. It was a face Robin had seen before when they were taking tests in class – it meant Steve had no idea what was going on. “You’re upset because I’m not flirting with Tammy Thompson?”
“I don’t get it!” Robin said. “She’s really nice and she’s a good singer and she’s really pretty. Objectively. I mean, she seems like the Steve Harrington type.”
“Right,” Steve said, his lips twitching like she had said something funny.
“So I don’t get it,” Robin said. “She’s right there, and I don’t even try, but you keep looking. What’s so special about me?”
“Oh,” Steve said, like he had just realized something. “She’s jealous of you.”
Robin shuffled but didn’t say anything. Of course Tammy was jealous. Steve sat next to her every day, did he really not see it?
“And you don’t like that,” Steve continued, like he was figuring something out. Unfortunately, he was figuring out entirely the wrong thing. Robin wasn’t here to talk to Steve about her friendship with Tammy, she was here to find out why Steve didn’t like Tammy and why he seemed to like her.
“It’s not about me,” Robin said.
“Right,” Steve said, inhaling his stupid carcinogens. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Robin asked. She was pretty sure she was smarter than Steve Harrington, so she didn’t know why she was the one feeling lost in this conversation.
Steve stubbed out his cigarette against the wall. “I’ll fix it.”
The late bell rang. Robin wanted to ask Steve what he’d understood from this conversation, but she really did need to go to math class. Arriving late wasn’t a good way to fly under the radar.
“Okay,” she told Steve, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.
He gave her another one of those big smiles as she left the alleyway. It made something churn in her gut.
She wanted to be the kind of girl who got excited when Steve Harrington smiled at her like that. She wanted Tammy Thompson to smile at her like that. She wanted to fall in love with someone who loved her back, and she wanted to not get chased out of town by an angry mob with pitchforks for it.
***
The next time Robin walked into Ms. Click’s class, Steve was flirting with Tammy.
Robin had to stop in the middle of the aisle, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut.
Tammy was leaning into Steve’s space, twirling her blonde curls around one finger. Steve was smiling at her, arm stretched over the back of her chair, listening attentively as she spoke.
Robin forced herself to walk mechanically to her desk. She took her notebook and pencil case out of her backpack and very carefully arranged everything on her desk, doing anything she could to prolong looking up. She didn’t want to watch this.
After what felt like the longest few minutes of Robin’s life, Ms. Click began talking. Robin risked looking up and saw that Steve had pulled his arm back and Tammy was sitting in her own seat again.
She couldn't stop seeing them wrapped up in each other.
At the end of class, Steve walked out quickly, the way he always did. Robin wondered if he always went to smoke behind the gym and that was why he ran away so fast.
Tammy whirled to Robin, squealing, her face lit up in a beautiful smile.
“Robin! Did you see that!”
Tammy hadn’t started a conversation with Robin in two weeks. Robin managed a real smile in the face of Tammy’s happiness.
“I did,” she said.
“I think he likes me,” Tammy said, almost shy, playing with the bracelets on her wrist.
“Yeah,” Robin said, ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut. “I think so too.”
***
The rumors at band practice told Robin that Steve was still flirting with other girls. He seemed particularly interested in Nancy Wheeler, who was a priss and a nerd but who was pretty and definitely his type. He seemed to be slowly wearing her down.
It made Robin furious. So Steve Harrington had a crush on Nancy Wheeler, fine, that made sense. But if he really liked her, and the rumors said he was absolutely head-over-heels, then what was he doing playing with Tammy and Robin? What the fuck was he up to?
***
A week later, Steve didn’t run out of Click’s class at the first sound of the bell. Instead he turned to Tammy and Robin and said, “I’m having a party at my house tonight. You’re both invited.”
“I’ll think about it,” Tammy said, smiling like this was a game. It was. They all knew Tammy would be going to see Steve and she was just trying to play it cool.
“Cool,” Steve said. He met Tammy’s eyes, then Robin's. “I’ll see you there.”
Tammy waited until he walked away, then did a little shimmy of excitement. It was kind of lame, but also hopelessly endearing. Robin liked when Tammy didn’t try to act cool around her.
“You’re going?” Robin asked dully.
“Of course I’m going!” Tammy said. “This is going to be so much fun! You’re coming, right?”
“Yeah,” Robin said, her mouth running before her brain could catch up with it. Tammy wanted her there. What else could she do? “I’ll be there.”
***
Robin got her dad to drop her off at the party. She was willing to bet she was the only teenager being dropped off by their dad, but her parents weren’t the type to be upset about her going out and they trusted her to drink responsibly. Plus, Robin couldn’t drive, so she didn’t know how else she was supposed to get there.
By the time she arrived, the party was already in full swing. Music came from inside the house and a few people spilled out into the yard.
Robin headed inside, dodging around a few couples making out against the hallway walls. Tammy was probably here already, right? Robin passed through the kitchen, filling a red solo cup with a tiny amount of vodka and a lot of coke. Jason Carver was there, flirting with Chrissy Cunningham, who was blushing at the attention.
Robin slipped into the living room and that was where she found Tammy. She was standing against a wall, surrounded by Olivia, Melissa, and Karen. Tammy was holding a red solo cup and staring out at the other end of the living room.
Robin followed her gave to Steve, who was talking to… Eddie Munson? Robin watched with her jaw slack until Steve came away with a grin and a joint between his fingers.
That made sense, actually. Of course the only reason Steve Harrington would ever speak to Eddie Munson would be to buy drugs.
Robin went up to Tammy, hovering at the edge of the group as she said “hi.”
“Hey,” Tammy said, giving her a distracted smile.
“I like your dress,” Robin said. She wanted to say that Tammy looked good, but that wasn’t a safe compliment.
“Thanks,” Tammy said. “I got it in Indy.”
“It’s cute,” Robin said. It was — pink and ruffled at the edges and unlike anything anyone else was wearing. Something that screamed Tammy Thompson.
The music went quiet for a moment, and Robin spun around, trying to figure out why. Carol Perkins was standing by the speakers.
“Let’s play a game!” she said, blowing a bubble with her gum like the picture of teenage insouciance. “Truth or dare.”
She sat on the ground, Tommy Hagan and Steve Harrington sitting beside her. A few more jocks joined — Jason and Andy from the basketball team, Chrissy and Fiona from the cheerleading squad. Heather Holloway and Patrick and Brenda.
“We have to join!” Tammy said. She grabbed Robin’s hand and dragged her over to the circle.
Robin complied in a daze. Tammy was holding her hand. Tammy’s hand was soft and warm and not sweaty at all and Robin could die happy, Tammy’s hand in hers.
Tammy released her as soon as they got to the circle and Robin felt suddenly bereft, taking a seat mechanically beside her. Melissa, Karen, and Olivia sat on Tammy’s other side.
Steve Harrington was looking in her direction, eyebrows up, and Robin scowled at him. Steve smiled, hands up like he was saying don’t shoot, and Carol noticed and shot Robin a glare.
“Tommy,” Steve said. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Tommy said.
Steve grinned. “I dare you to let Carol take a body shot off you.”
Tommy scrunched up his face. “Don’t you mean I should take a shot off her?”
Steve blinked, absolutely nothing behind his eyes. “What do you mean?”
So Tommy lay down and balanced a shot glass on his stomach, so low it was practically on his hips, and Carol grabbed it with her mouth, tipping her head back to drink. Robin didn’t like Carol at all, but she had to admit there was something attractive about it, about the long line of Carol’s throat as she drank the shot and the dainty, self-satisfied way she wiped her mouth afterward.
From there, they kept going around the circle.
Heather Holloway gave Andy a lap dance. Fiona admitted to having done mushrooms. Jason Carver was dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the circle, which made him turn to Chrissy Cunningham and say “A good girl like you deserves better than some drunken kiss during truth or dare. What do you say I take you out to dinner tomorrow and then give you a kiss on your front porch at the end of the night?”
Chrissy’s smile was disarmingly wide. “Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That sounds nice.”
“It’s a date,” Jason said. A few of the boys hollered and whooped, patting Jason on the back and shaking him a little. Jason looked bashful, hiding a smile behind a sip of his drink.
“Finally!” Carol Perkins said. She turned to Chrissy. “He’s been pining over you since last year and it took him this long to work up the guts to ask you out.”
Jason screeched at Carol, who ignored him and winked at a pleased-looking Chrissy. Robin was hit with the sudden realization that Carol Perkins could be nice, when she wanted to be.
Melissa got dared to swap clothes with Patrick, Karen revealed she’d shoplifted a pair of earrings once, and Olivia admitted to having made out with a boy in the school janitor’s closet.
Then it was Tammy’s turn.
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Tammy said, something brave in her eyes.
A few of the girls conferred together — Carol and Heather and Fiona — before turning to Tammy with smiles on their faces. “We dare you to shotgun with Steve.”
Tammy’s eyes went wide. Robin didn’t think Tammy was the type to smoke weed, but Tammy pressed a confident smile onto her face. Maybe she didn’t want to back down from a dare. Maybe she just wanted a chance to press her mouth against Steve Harrington’s.
Steve looked at her from all the way across the circle — if he, Tommy, and Carol were the North Pole, Tammy and Robin were the South, the antipodal point — and raised the joint questioningly.
“Okay,” Tammy said.
Steve took a drag off the joint and crawled across the circle. Tammy met him in the middle and he was gentle as he used one hand to tip her chin up, pressing his lips against hers and exhaling. Robin could only really see the back of Tammy’s head, but she was hit by a burning jealousy at the way Steve so casually touched her.
It felt like it had been years since Tammy had held her hand.
Tammy sat back beside Robin, a pleased little smile on her face.
“Band kid,” Carol said, smiling meanly. “Truth or dare.”
Robin shuffled uncomfortably. So far all the dares had involved some kind of sexual display with the opposite sex and Robin did not want to kiss a boy or give him a lap dance. But she also had a lot of secrets she didn’t really feel like sharing.
She should pick truth, right? Worst come to worst, she could just lie. It’s not like any of these people would ever know — none of them really knew her.
“Truth,” Robin said.
Chrissy started to say something, but Carol spoke over her. “Who was your first kiss?”
Robin’s cheeks flamed. Carol was doing this on purpose.
“I haven’t had my first kiss yet,” Robin said, trying to sound casual. It wasn’t that unusual, at least in the circles she ran with.
But Carol reacted with extreme shock, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping open. “Ever? That’s so sad!”
“Not really,” Robin said. Everyone was staring at her. She’d spent months trying to fly under the radar, and now they were all watching her and it was just as terrible as she’d thought it would be.
Carol kept going. “But why haven’t you kissed anyone? Aren’t there any boys you like?”
It would have been fine if Carol hadn’t paused a little, put more emphasis on the word boys. But Carol knew what she was doing, insinuating exactly what she had when she’d stood with Steve by Robin’s locker.
Everyone in the circle was staring at Robin. Jason Carver looked disgusted. Tammy pulled back a bit from Robin’s side.
Robin felt like she was going to throw up.
Then Steve Harrington scoffed. All eyes moved to him, to see what the King was going to say. Steve was relaxed, weight back on one hand, legs kicked out in front of him. “Not everyone is a slut, Carol.”
The like you went unspoken, but Robin saw it land. Carol’s face scrunched up with real hurt for a second, like she wasn’t sure why Steve was attacking her.
Tommy, sitting between them, gave Steve a what the fuck look as he pulled Carol into his side.
Steve either didn’t see any of this or pretended not to. He turned to Patrick, sitting next to Robin on the opposite side as Tammy, and said “truth or dare?”
Robin relaxed. It was over, right? They weren’t looking at her anymore?
She glanced around the circle and it seemed like everyone had moved on. A sneaky glance at Tammy showed that she wasn’t sitting as close to Robin as before, but she also wasn’t looking particularly repulsed. Maybe she had just forgotten to move back again.
Robin didn’t really believe it.
She tried to calm her racing heart as the next few people went. But when it was Steve Harrington’s turn, she couldn’t help but tune in.
“Steve,” Tommy Hagan said. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare,” Steve said, like every teenage jock ever.
Carol leaned over and whispered in Tommy’s ear and Tommy grinned. “I dare you to kiss Robin Buckley.”
Robin’s blood turned to ice. Once again, all heads in the circle swiveled to her.
Robin didn’t want to kiss Steve Harrington. She had been saving her first kiss because she wanted it to be special. She could have pretended to like a boy, to kiss a boy, to date a boy. But she had wanted to save all her firsts for a girl — to have them be real and meaningful instead of a stupid farce.
She didn’t have a choice though. Not after what Carol had implied earlier. If Robin didn’t kiss Steve, she would practically be confirming that she was a lesbian.
Robin looked to Carol, who was smirking at her.
“Yeah,” Robin said shakily. “Okay.”
Steve was watching her intently, something indecipherable in his eyes. He got to his feet and crossed the circle, kneeling down in front of her.
Robin didn’t think she’d ever been this close to a boy. He smelled like hairspray and beer, and his eyes were brown and serious as she watched her.
He gave her the same friendly smile he’d been giving her all semester, then leaned in to whisper in her ear. His breath was uncomfortably hot on her skin as he said, “trust me.”
Then he pulled back and squared his shoulders, cocky and unapologetic about it. He smirked around the circle, a boy proud to be showing off that he was kissing a pretty girl.
Robin was going to throw up. Her heart was pounding and she was going to have to kiss a boy and Steve had been playing games with her all semester.
Robin closed her eyes, preparing for the kiss and also trying to hide the hot tears she could feel building up.
She jumped a bit when Steve’s hands landed on her face. He wasn’t holding her jaw delicately like he’d done to Tammy. Both of Steve’s giant palms where splayed across her cheeks, one of them half caught in her hair, dragging it in front of her face. Great. Her first kiss was going to taste like hair and that wasn’t even going to be the worst part of it.
Robin kept her eyes screwed shut as Steve’s skin pressed against her lips and his nose bumped hers and — those weren’t Steve’s lips.
Steve was close, yes, so close they were sharing the same air. So close that it probably looked like they were kissing.
But this was a stage kiss. Steve’s thumb was over Robin’s mouth, his lips pressed to one side and hers to the other.
Robin opened her eyes in shock. She couldn’t really see Steve — he was too close not to be blurry — but his eyes were pressed closed, brown eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. As if this were a real kiss.
Where had basketball-playing, prom king Steve Harrington even learned what a stage kiss was? This couldn’t be standard practice for the popular kids — they played these games as an excuse to kiss each other, not to fake it.
And more importantly, why was he doing this? Was he that opposed to kissing her? Or had he somehow noticed her reluctance and decided to protect her while allowing both of them to save face?
Steve used his hands to tilt Robin’s head and she followed without resistance. He pressed closer, moving her back, and they still weren’t kissing but it probably looked like they were making out. Like he was into this. Like she was.
Robin closed her eyes. She could figure out the mystery that was Steve Harrington later. Right now, she had to help Steve sell this.
She raised her hands to Steve’s shoulders, pulling him closer, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her sudden ardor as a request for a real kiss.
He let out a little moan, his nose brushing hers as he tipped his head, and she smiled against his thumb. Holy shit. They were totally faking it and everyone was going to think she was a good enough kisser to make Steve Harrington moan.
After a long moment, Steve pulled back, simultaneously slipping his thumb to the side so it wouldn’t be over her mouth.
He stayed in her space a second longer, eyes locked with Robin’s. He seemed pleased with himself, or maybe with her shocked expression.
He licked his lips and Robin copied him automatically. Her lips tasted like beer and smoke but it was from Steve’s hand, not his lips, and that made all the difference.
Someone wolf-whistled.
Steve backed away, returning to his seat next to Tommy Hagan. Robin was speechless as the room returned to focus.
Carol looked pissed. Tommy was elbowing Steve, leaning in to tease him.
“Damn, Harrington,” said some basketball jock Robin didn’t know. “I didn’t know you were into band nerds.”
“That was a hell of a first kiss,” another one said.
Steve smiled, cocky and pleased and bashful all at once. He was a better actor than Robin had ever given him credit for.
Tammy nudged Robin, and that’s when Robin realized she was still staring at Steve, dumb with awe.
As everyone turned to Tommy Hagan, Tammy leaned in and whispered, “it looks like you really enjoyed that kiss.”
She was trying to smile, trying to gently tease like a friend would, but Robin could see the heartbreak in her expression. Robin wished she could tell Tammy that it had all been for show and that she hadn’t actually kissed Steve, but Tammy had pulled away at the accusation that Robin was a lesbian and only been okay touching her again after that performance of a kiss.
This wasn’t a world where Robin got to have both Steve and Tammy.
“Yeah,” Robin said, surprised to find she was telling the truth. She was glad she’d been dared to kiss Steve and not any other boy here. There were apparently layers to Steve Harrington, who she’d thought was nothing more than a pretty, empty-headed, girl-obsessed jock.
She kind of wanted to know more about him.
She glanced across the circle. Steve was watching Tommy try to do a handstand, until Tommy overbalanced and fell into Steve’s lap, making him yelp. Steve laughed as he leaned over Tommy, asking if he was okay, and Tommy’s eyes lit up in a way Robin recognized. The way she had probably lit up when Tammy had taken her hand.
In that moment, Robin felt like she understood something about all of them.
Carol’s frozen smile as she watched her boyfriend beam at Steve. The way Tommy pretended to fumble a bit climbing off Steve’s lap, if only to stay there a second longer. And Steve’s sharp eyes, catching Tommy’s adoration and Carol’s pain.
“You’re too high, man,” Steve said, waving his joint in a big circle. Giving Tommy cover in case anyone else had noticed what Robin had.
“Way too high,” Carol agreed, snatching the joint from Steve’s fingers. She took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, passed the joint back to Steve, and curled into Tommy’s side.
Tommy and Carol looked like the picture of a happy couple and Robin realized it was another type of performance. Had Carol known before she started dating Tommy? Or had she fallen in love with him first, only realizing he liked Steve when it was too late to stop her heart from being broken?
Robin didn’t want to feel sympathy for Carol Perkins, who had tried so hard to ruin Robin’s night. But she pitied her a little, watching her playact at being happy and realizing that they were all doing it. All these stupid popular kids were just pretending to be shiny, happy people and the rest of the school was buying it, standing too far away to see the imperfections that would have been obvious up close.
Steve met Robin’s eyes across the circle, bringing the joint to his lips. His eyes were perfectly clear, pupils small, not like someone who had been smoking at all. Another slight of hand, like the stage kiss.
“I think he likes you back,” Tammy said.
Robin looked at Tammy, who was faking a smile just like the rest of the popular kids. Why hadn’t Robin seen it before? Tammy was brave and Tammy was kind, but she hid those parts of herself, trying to seem just as cookie-cutter perfect as the rest of the people in this circle.
Robin didn’t want cookie-cutter perfect. She wanted real.
She still didn’t want to break Tammy’s heart, so she said something she didn’t really believe about Steve. Not anymore.
“Maybe,” Robin said. “But like you said, he’s just a good time. He’ll be over me in two weeks.”
***
On Monday, Robin found Steve at his locker after school.
His eyes went wide as she came up to him and he smiled at her. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Robin said. She kicked the toes of her converse together. She’d spent all of yesterday doodling on them while watching tv. Maybe it was stupid, given how close Carol had come to outing her, but Robin was feeling a little bulletproof. She’d written I may not go down in history, but I’ll go down on your sister in pen on the whites of her shoes.
Steve looked down at her feet and smiled. “Nice artwork.”
Robin froze, even though there was no way Steve could read her shoes while standing up. “Thanks,” she said stiffly. “I thought they could use some, uh, personality?”
“I like them better this way,” Steve said.
Robin cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, wanna get milkshakes? You’re paying, of course.”
Steve’s eyes lit up. “Yeah,” he said quickly. “I’ll buy you however many milkshakes you want.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “Do girls really fall for this desperate act?”
“I’m much cooler around girls I’m interested in,” Steve said. Robin believed him this time. He’d put his thumb over her mouth and then swaggered like he’d kissed her and she trusted him in a way she hadn’t before.
She was dying to know why he’d done it.
“So it’s just your friends that you bribe into liking you,” Robin teased.
“Yeah,” Steve said, shameless. “Usually more with free rides and arcade money, but I’ve used ice cream before.”
“You’re so weird,” Robin blurted out. Then she froze. It was practically social suicide to call Steve Harrington weird.
But Steve didn’t get mad. He just laughed and said “you have no idea.”
“Yo, Harrington,” called a basketball player walking down the hall. “Hurry up, you’ll be late for practice.”
“I’m not going today!” Steve called back. “I’m sick.” He gave a very unconvincing cough.
The basketball player rolled his eyes. “Lovesick, maybe.”
Steve scowled playfully. “Fuck off, man.”
“I’ll tell Coach you’re too pussy-whipped to play,” the basketball player said.
“Don’t you dare!” Steve called. Robin expected him to sound more offended at being called pussy-whipped. No teenage boy wanted to be told he would do anything a girl told him to do, even in exchange for sex. And Steve was definitely not getting sex. But the insult rolled off Steve like water off a duck’s back. “Tell him I have the flu.”
“Sure, sure, whatever.” The boy rolled his eyes as he disappeared around the corner.
Steve closed his locker. “Ready to go?”
“You’re not going to basketball?”
“No,” Steve said. “We’re getting milkshakes. I’m not giving up a chance to make Robin Buckley my best friend.”
“Aren’t you, like, first chair?” Robin said. She watched a lot of basketball games by virtue of being in band, she knew it was called starting line. But she enjoyed seeing Steve’s face scrunch up at her words.
Steve groaned. “God, that is annoying. Remind me to stop calling Dustin’s campaigns his nerd practices.”
“Who’s Dustin and what are campaigns?”
“A kid I babysit, and a Dungeons and Dragons game.”
Robin blinked. “Dungeons and Dragons? That Hellfire game?”
“Yeah,” Steve said. “He’s not in high school yet, so he doesn’t play with Eddie as his DM, but I’m sure he’ll join in a few years.”
DM? Was that some Hellfire term?
Apparently the new Steve Harrington knew the terms to nerd games. He stage-kissed lesbians at parties and thought it was worth skipping basketball practice for a chance to be Robin’s friend.
“Who are you?” Robin asked. “And what have you done with Steve?”
“I’m a time traveller from the future,” Steve said.
Robin laughed. What a nerd. “No, really.”
Steve started walking backwards down the hallway, keys swinging around his fingers. “I’ll tell you over milkshakes.”
He held a hand out to her, beckoning, a hopeful smile on his face, and it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. Robin had no clue why, but Steve Harrington really wanted to be her friend.
Robin peeled herself off the lockers and took Steve’s hand, their fingers twining together, letting him pull her outside.
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#ao3#because ao3 is down#robin buckley#Steve harrington#carol perkins#stobin#platonic stobin#time travel fanfiction#mia writes fanfic
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A Date to Remember
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Five Hargreeves stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. His siblings had given him endless grief about his nerves, but he wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight was his first official date with Y/N, and despite all the apocalyptic scenarios he had faced, this felt like one of his biggest challenges yet.
"Are you sure you don't want some advice?" Klaus called from the living room, a teasing lilt in his voice.
Five rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Klaus. Just... try not to burn the house down while I'm gone."
Klaus laughed, giving him a thumbs-up as Five left the house, determination in every step.
Five had planned everything meticulously. Dinner at an upscale restaurant, followed by a moonlit walk in the park. But the universe, it seemed, had other plans.
As Five and Y/N arrived at the restaurant, the hostess informed them that their reservation had been lost. No amount of Five's usual intimidating glares could change the fact that the restaurant was fully booked.
"I'm so sorry, Five," Y/N said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Maybe we can find somewhere else?"
Five sighed, his frustration palpable, but he forced a smile. "It's okay. Let's try that little Italian place down the street."
They walked to the Italian restaurant, only to find a sign on the door: "Closed for Renovations."
Y/N giggled, trying to lighten the mood. "I guess the universe is testing our patience."
Five couldn't help but laugh. "Seems like it. How about we grab some takeout and head to the park anyway?"
With a pizza box in hand, they strolled through the park, the moon casting a gentle glow over the path. They found a bench by the lake and sat down, sharing the pizza and talking about everything and nothing.
Five found himself relaxing, the mishaps of the evening fading away as they laughed and talked. Y/N's presence was soothing, her laughter infectious.
"Who knew pizza on a park bench could be so nice?" Y/N mused, taking another bite.
Five smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him. "I'm just glad you're enjoying yourself."
As they finished the pizza, Five noticed a small band setting up nearby, preparing for an impromptu performance. The first notes of a soft, romantic song floated through the air, and Five saw an opportunity.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, offering Y/N his hand.
She blushed but took his hand, letting him lead her to a small clearing. They danced slowly, the music wrapping around them like a warm embrace.
"Despite everything that went wrong, this turned out pretty great," Y/N whispered.
Five looked into her eyes, feeling a surge of emotion. "It's not about the plans, it's about who you're with."
As the song ended, they stood there for a moment, lost in each other's gaze. Then, almost instinctively, they leaned in and shared their first kiss. It was soft and tender, filled with the promise of more to come.
When they finally pulled away, Y/N smiled, her cheeks flushed. "I think this is the best first date I've ever had."
Five chuckled, his heart light. "Me too."
They walked back to the bench, hand in hand, and sat down, watching the reflections of the moon on the lake. The night hadn't gone as planned, but it had been perfect in its own way.
And as they sat there, content in each other's company, Five realized that sometimes, the best moments are the ones you don't plan for.
#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#number five imagine#number five x reader#the umbrella academy#number five#number five one shot
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Joint Coping
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Angst
Dialouge: "Help me understand."
Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways
Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group
Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)
This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).
Masterlist
Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.
The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.
He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.
They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.
He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.
"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"
"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"
There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.
"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."
"Thanks Carlos."
Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.
He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.
He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.
He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.
He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.
They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?
God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.
"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."
Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?
"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.
He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.
"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."
"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.
First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.
The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.
They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.
"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."
"It's just easier this way."
"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."
He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.
The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.
He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.
Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.
He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.
And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.
#x reader#fanficion#formula one#f1 fic#formula 1#racing#f1 fanfic#max verstappen#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen f1#max verstappen fanfic#super max#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x charles leclerc#lestappen#mv1 x reader#mv33 x reader#mv33#mv1#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x y/n#cl16 imagine#cl16#cl16 x reader
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patience and pleasure pt 2
summary: paige and azzi struggle with their unspoken feelings towards each other leading up to their last game.
warnings: slight angst, suggestive language.
disclaimer: everything i write is a work of fiction, any and all similarities to real life is not intentional!
word count: 1.6k +
author’s note: thank you for all the love on pt 1, i love y’all sm!! 💕
paige's pov:
of course i had my makeup bag. it never leaves my backpack actually.
azzi had only done my makeup a few times before, and it really does look better when she does it. but that's not the reason i asked her.
i've known azzi's signature lip gloss since we were sixteen. i've lost count of how many tubes i've gone through myself, telling myself it was just because i liked the flavor. but deep down, i knew.
the shade, the shine, the scent, it all belonged to her.
i guess i just wanted her on my lips.
something about the way she put it on me made my stomach flip.
azzi always gets this really serious look on her face when she was focused. it's especially apparent when she's on the court. once i see her put that face on, god bless anyone who comes in her way.
her consistency followed her off the court also. her fixed gaze on my lips when she applied my makeup. immersed in her own concentration, i took the time to study her.
i knew pretending to "forget" my makeup bag would give me time to admire her. as this being our last game, i don't know how many of these moments we have left.
and just when i had my opportunity...i froze. being with azzi sometimes made it feel like time was standing still. but this, this was different.
i'm still not over it. her lips meeting my skin, her soft breath against my face, the smell of her perfume.
i could melt in her arms if she let me.
following her out of tunnel, i licked a bit of her lip gloss off the side of my mouth.
that's one way to taste her.
lazily, i let my eyes outline her body as she walked with a swift confidence.
i can't believe i left her clueless. my sweet, shy girl finally made a move and i gave her nothing??
i need to say something to her, but my mind is blank, tongue-tied by the weight of her kiss.
azzi's pov:
i sped out of the tunnel trying not to think about how awkward i was. paige trails behind me, walking a bit faster to try to keep my pace.
i can't believe myself. i've gone years without acting on these types of thoughts. and now, on our last game and i went and made it awkward. what if i made her uncomfortable? and here i was calling her the softie...
just then, i get that familiar feeling—the same one i get when paige is about to pass to me on the court. even when she's not looking, i can feel her burn for me. i know she’s about to say something, i can almost feel the words form on her lips.
i reach the end of the tunnel, where fans scream and whistle. finally catching up, paige walks shoulder to shoulder with me.
the sound of shoe soles on the court, chirping like morning birds. booming chants and whistles blend together in an overwhelming mass. herds of fans reach for her, arms outstretched in longing. the amount of times they chant her name, it starts to feel like it's not even a real word anymore. their rhythmic chorus engulfing everything around us.
my gaze shifts to her face. and just like that—everything stops.
the same noise that was pulsing through me just moments ago quiets to a soft hum. but with the look on paige's face, you'd think she couldn’t even hear them at all. a slight smile across her lips, the kind of smile you’d miss if you blinked. her eyes flicker across my face as if searching for something.
paige's pov:
every time i look at azzi it's like seeing her for the first time.
my ribs cave in like a dying star, heartbeat pounding. my body sings for her.
her beauty is devastating. it wrecks me every time.
she parts her lips slightly when she catches me staring. all i can hear is the stillness in her breath. soothing like a lullaby, she inhales sharply pulling me in with just a breath.
i quickly shift my gaze the crowd before she can meet my eyes.
“PAIGE, OVER HERE. I'M YOUR BIGGEST FAN,” a college aged girl shouts.
i look up to see a girl decked out in head-to-toe uconn merch. my jersey across her chest as she leans down to me.
i absolutely adore my fans, it gets exhausting at times but i’d never let them see it.
i reach up to sign the girl's jersey. she’s rambling about something but i’m only thinking about how azzi is standing right behind us. i feel bad for being inattentive but i don’t want to waste a minute tonight not looking at her.
especially not when she looks this good.
as an apology, i shoot the girl a wink as i hand the marker back. “thanks for coming, ‘preciate it,” i say to her.
eagerly, i turn to find azzi, but she’s already at the bench.
god, i hope she isn’t still worried about what happened in the locker room. why didn't i say anything to her?
once i reach the bench, i quickly scan her face. i’ve studied her for years, i could recall every dimple, every scar, every freckle. our teammates think azzi is hard to read, but i think she pretty transparent if you know her well enough.
her discipline shows in her demeanor, with a stoic expression.
this time, though, it’s different. this isn’t her normal look, something’s bothering her. she's blinking faster than normal, her eyes darting from viewpoint to viewpoint, unsure where to land. i'm desperate to soothe her, to fix this.
i take a seat next to her on the bench as geno goes over plays. luckily, he’s facing one of my teammates to explain something so i take the opportunity to inch my hand closer to hers. hyperfocused on the small space between us, i finally meet her skin. the muscles in my hand go slack when i feel her.
i give in so easily to her, my god.
my pinky traces the familiar ridges of her knuckles. i can draw the lines on her hands from memory. a heat builds in my fingertips, i need more.
i brush my pinky finger against hers to attempt to soothe whatever she’s thinking about.
c'mon azzi, look at me. get out of your head.
her finger twitches slightly underneath mine.
was that intentional?
i search her expression like it will give me the answer. i look closely for a small smile, a furrowing of her eyebrows, a slower blink.
something, azzi, give me something.
i feel inebriated by my own desperation, but i swear i see her eyes soften for a moment. but still, she’s not here. whatever she’s thinking about, she’s in it deep.
i feel the muscles in her hand relax, and she lets me sink further, slightly interlacing our fingers. finally giving me an inch of surrender. before i can get a grip on her hand, geno turns around. with a swiftness that stings, azzi snaps her hand back into her lap.
i have to take a moment to adjust from her absence. her warmth slowly leaves my hand and i swear i feel my bones ache for her.
azzi’s pov:
paige reaches up to sign her jersey, resting a hand respectfully atop the girls chest.
a jealousy submerges my mind as i watch, flooding my veins. it's instinctive and all-consuming. i hate the way i want to pull them apart. knees locked, i'm paralyzed by my own envy, choking on words i have no right to say.
you’d think i’d be accustomed to this by now but i’m not. paige is so deserving of all the love she gets from her fans. they see a small part of what i’ve seen in her since we were fifteen. but that’s the part of her i don’t want to share.
sometimes i just wish i could have her all to myself. i know she’s not even mine to keep.
i take a deep breath and try to control my expressions but i break when i see her wink at the girl. my brow creases slightly and i feel my breath stop. my face must have reflected my anger because the girl looks at me confused.
i snap my eyes to the floor and speed walk towards the bench.
i was so stupid for thinking that i could have her. i’ll always have to share her with the world. there’s so much of her to love, i was foolish to think i could handle the weight of fully knowing her.
when she meets me at the bench, i feel her eyes draw patterns around my face.
i need to get these silly thoughts out of my mind. i’ve been able to control myself for years when i thought about her like this. i know better…i just need to-
my thoughts cease when i feel her pinky finger brush over my knuckles. her delicate touch. she's cautious with me like she's approaching a wild animal.
my first instinct is to grab her hand entirely, to plead for more. i freeze caught between wanting to pull away or never let go. my body betrays me and my finger twitches underneath hers.
i can’t let myself get attached to her. i’ll be playing this game forever. i can’t handle the pressure of sharing her with everyone.
i feel her fingers sway across my knuckles like tree branches in the wind. i fight the urge to let her kind touch sedate me. but despite my best efforts, muscles start to relax.
is this girl trying to kill me? she’s playing with me. really, i know how she is. i can’t let myself get my hopes up.
when i see geno turn back to face us, i snap my hand back into my lap.
no attachments, i need to keep it casual.
#Spotify#pazzi#pazzi fics#paige x azzi#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#chappell roan#i bet on losing huskies
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Hi hi! I saw your requests were open so I had an idea for some Twst boys well Floyd, Jamil, Rook, and Vil, weird group I know but they're my faves
So I've been dealing with burnout recently with school and I can imagine MC being a lot worse with Crowley and all- How would the boys react if one day MC just- passed out, like just randomly with out prompting. So maybe some comfort fluff?
Take your time you're amazing!
(thank you for your patience boo. I know this has been in my inbox for a while. I hope your burnout is better, and if not I hope this provides a little levity)
Part Two Part Three
He's been so boooooooored lately. Shrimpy, why ya gotta spend all that time working for Crowley? You should be hanging out with him! But that's just kind of your way, and he knows he can't really stop you. So he mopes around the lounge while you're off doing who knows what.
When you stop by the Monstro Lounge, he is so fucking excited! It's the most alive he's seemed in weeks! But when you apologetically tell him that you're here to discuss food at the upcoming festival that Crowley has "graciously" allowed you to plan and manage with Azul, he gets pouty and storms off.
He walks into the VIP room to apologize to you just in time to see you collapse. He immediately is scooping you up, not even processing what Azul is trying to tell him.
He takes you to his room, clears the clutter off his bed, decides it's not clean enough for, then lays you on Jade's bed. He grabs his fluffiest blanket, and wraps you up in it. He doesn't want to leave your side, so he texts Jade to bring you a glass of water, and a mug of tea.
When he wakes up, he makes you drink both. He's a little intimidating about it, but it's just because he's worried and wants to make sure you feel better fast.
When you've drunk all that, he asks what happened. You tell him you've been so busy running around for this event, that you have had little time to take care of yourself, and your brain kind of shut itself off for a minute. He acts oddly calm during the explanation, then flops on top of you.
"I'm staying right here until you get some sleep, Shrimpy."
Once he's certain you are resting, he and Jade take a little trip to see a certain crow.
When you wake up, Floyd excitedly tells you that him and Jade are now your partners on the project! Yay! Floyd ends up doing a lot of the work, even without any prompting. It's a win win for him. You can take time to recover, and he has an excuse to be around you.
For some reason, when the event is over….your workload from Crowley is significantly smaller. How about that?
Jamil knew this school was run stupidly and inneficiently. But when Crowley makes you, a student, fill in for a teacher who is on his honeymoon, as a professor, that's when he's lost all faith in NRC.
He offers to help you immediately, but you insist that you can handle it. He tries to argue with you on it, but you tell him that he already has too much to do, and you'd hate yourself if he added your workload to his. He begrudgingly lets you alone about it for now. He doesn't want to distress you.
You're grading papers in the Scarabia kitchen when you pass out mid sentence. He's calm under pressure, so he sighs, and carries you to the lounge laying you on one of the lavish sofas the Asim family provided. (He guesses they are good for something)
Kalim chooses that moment to walk into the room, and immediately panics. Jamil let's him know things are under control, then sends him to get a cold cloth. When he returns he places that on your forehead, and waits.
The second your eyes are open, he initiates snake whisper. He asks how long you've been awake, and you tell him the truth. You haven't slept in 30 hours, due to grading the 100+ midterm papers that needed to be finished by the end of the week. You hadn't eaten in 12 hours, and at some point every paper was looking the same
Once he gets his information, he tells you he will be finishing the grading, and that after this you will not be helping Crowley until HE tells you it's a reasonable workload. Does he feel bad for hypnotizing you? Yes. Does he think this is the only way to make your brain take a break? Also Yes.
Once he releases you from the spell, he tells you you passed out, and that he's going to be taking care of you for a couple days. He sleeps on the floor while you take his bed. He stays up late and finishes the papers. He cooks you foods full of proteins to get your energy back up. He gives you warm milk with honey and cinnamon to help you sleep.
He tells Crowley that he hypnotized you, and you will no longer be doing what he says without Jamil screening the workload. Bird man pouts about having to actually do his job instead of dumping everything on you, but your workload becomes much more reasonable after that.
Vil would have to be very busy to not notice his sweet potato is not getting the rest they need.
That said, he'd had to take two weeks off school after his new fashion line had had some major set backs. While he was gone, Crowley had swooped in with the paperwork Vil usually did, added the paperwork he was supposed to be doing, and you'd fallen out of the self care routine that Vil had worked so hard to make a habit for you.
When he'd come back, he was working on his make up homework, while you were working on what he was horrified to find out late was his paperwork. He notices the bags under your eyes, and the way you rub them every couple minutes as though your vision is blurry, but he doesn't want to ruin what is the first moment he's had with you in two weeks. And it's so peaceful, the two of you quietly working in the same room. He's getting distracted by thinking about a future like this, when he feels you slump against him.
At first he thinks it's a bid for affection, which he is more than happy to give, but when you aren't responsive, he gets worried. He pulls out some smelling salts from his drawer (cause of course he has those) and once the smell brings you back to him, he runs his fingers along your scalp and asks what's been going on.
Once you tell him, he scowls, and walks into the bathroom for a moment. When he comes back, he tells you he's drawn you a bath. When you go into the bathroom, you see it's not only a bath, but a Bubble bath, where the bubble changed color and floated, and then popped in a shower of glitter.
Once you're in the bath, he puts a facemask on you, turns on some soothing music, and dims the lights. He assured you he will be back and leaves the bathroom. He stations Rook outside the bathroom door, because he knows he will hear it if something is wrong, then goes to yell at Crowley. (He's mortified when he finds out half of it was his paperwork)
He comes back to his room, and Rook tells him he can tell by your breathing that you are peacefully snoozing in the bath. Vil re-enters as Rook leaves, and wakes you up. He helps you finish cleaning up, then lets you borrow his softest pajamas. He makes you a smoothie, then holds you close, running his fingers through your hair, and pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, until you drift off. He's taking you with him on his next business trip.
Like Vil, there would have to be extreme circumstances for Rook to not have stopped you before the point of collapse. (In fact, we're going to work with that idea)
All the janitors had gone on strike. (Surprise) Luckily for Crowley, he had a perfect non magical student who would be so generous to fill in since their food, board, and classes were all free.
It was a job for multiple magic users, not ONE magicless student. You made it halfway through the day, before Rook gave up just stalking you, and decided to discuss how shaky your muscles had gotten and how you hadn't taken a lunch break yet.
He seductively backs you against a chair to trick you into sitting down for a moment, and then gracefully sits in your lap…and refuses to get up. His petit lapin will not work themselves to exhaustion. That wouldn't be very beautiful.
He texts Epel to bring you both lunch. You think once you eat, he will let you continue cleaning, despite how sore your body is. You are so silly! It's adorable that you would think that! He giggles then kisses your forehead. And that's when it fully hits you how trapped you are.
He carries you off to his room, and makes you lay down while he massages your tired muscles. You get lulled into complacency while he does so. He thinks it's adorable how safe you feel near a hunter such as himself.
Once your body is fully restored, you both pay a visit to Crowley, where Rook's eyes go dark, despite his ever present smile, and he tells him in no uncertain terms that you will not be a janitor, and that if your finances were truly an issue, he could take it up with Rook.
While Crowley would normally jump on any opportunity for money like that, Rook's eyes have a silent warning in them. Not that you notice. You're just enamored with your boyfriend acting as your knight in shining armor. Just the way he likes it.
....
Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst floyd#floyd x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd leech#twst jamil#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#jamil viper#twisted wonderland jamil#vil schoenheit x reader#vil schoenheit#vil x reader#twst vil#rook x reader#twisted wonderland rook#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt#twst rook
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Caio Sunkissed Collection
I COME BEARING GIFTS! (and Moyo is drunk atm shhhh)
This is Caio's Sunkissed Collection, which I really hope nobody already converted, I couldn't find it if so. There's a whopping THIRTEEN items for you guys! Because it's summer and it's stupidly hot where I live and I saw the Barbie movie so I'm good at beach 😉
Because there's 13, it's all AF only for now. Everything has morphs except the yoke doesn't have preg morph because tbh I lost patience with it. Everything's compressorized and includes swatch. Everything is in one rar but in separate folders so feel free to delete anything you don't like.
❗ I should point out the straps on the swimsuits are wonky, they ended up like that during texture baking and I'm admittedly not comfortable enough with gimp to have edited the textures. So you get some off-the-shoulder moments I guess.
As with always I can't claim perfection, and with a set this size please do not hesitate to point out any issues you find to me!! I'll never be upset and am happy to fix issues! (Did I mention I've had alcohol idk why I feel like that's obvious...) (I forgot how I do my posts.......)
🌴🏖️ Caio Sunkissed Collection download on Patreon (FREE)
But please consider becoming a patron if you want to show me support or make requests! ❤️🙏 Any support is extremely appreciated and really helps me out!
Shoe credits: @platinumaspiration, @deedee-sims, @sanneke94
(Also because moyo's drunk pls tell her if she forgot anythingggggg)
#moyokean#dl:afc#sims 2#ts2#the sims 2#thesims2#download#ts2 download#ts2cc#sims 2 download#4t2#4t2 cc#4t2 clothes#4t2 conversion#s2 cc#s2 clothes#s2cc#s2clothes#sims 2 clothes#ts2 cc#sims 2 cc
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aftermath.
A/N: nobody asked for this, but all I've seen is Will smut (which I totally love, don't get me wrong) but I need some vulnerable Will
Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader
Warnings: grief, mourning, sad!will, mentions of death, mentions of Will's military past and Tom's funeral
One of the things you've always admired about Will is his strength. He was always the one to put on a brave face and push on. The captain in him had the duty of moving forward and completing whatever mission was at hand, whether it was getting his team to the landing zone or grocery shopping day at home.
It was that very same strength he possessed that got him through the darkest times in his life.
Losing his war veteran grandfather, losing his comrades in combat or to the haunting PTSD that they tried to chase away with substance abuse.
Before you came into his life, before he realized that he was lost in the same fog of that purgatory of PTSD, shutting his emotions out is the only thing he knew. After all that time, he came to believe it was easier than having to deal with them.
It just wasn't a priority; a moment of tears he refused to share with anyone anywhere other than sat naked and alone on the shower floor.
Tom wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but it doesn't mean it made losing him any easier.
It was easy for him to plaster a smile and bury his grief deep down until he felt it was time to unbury it and mourn.
Getting to that point of self-awareness was a victory in itself.
It took so much patience and love and pain, not only on his behalf but yours as well, to help him to understand what he was really struggling with.
He hadn't realized it had gotten so uncontrollable until the incident at Publix - the grand revelation of the weapon he could be, once shred of his humanity, provided the cathartic acceptance of the fact that he needed help.
Upon federal investigation, the story they told was that Tom had been shot and killed in a tragic mugging incident on their consultation trip. Just a boys' night out gone bad.
It wasn't too hard to believe, given they were 5 foreigners in a country that wasn't theirs. The heat from the Feds didn't last long. Thanks to Santiago's few but faithful contacts, that investment was quickly brought to an end.
It's barely 6 a.m. and you're stood in the kitchen making coffee, still processing how this all happened.
Your black dress is simple but elegant and modest against your body. Despite the itchy fabric, you can feel the early morning chill soaking through.
The dripping of the coffee maker lures you into a whirlwind of thoughts. You watch the droplets of dew form on the kitchen window against the cloudy sky which threatens to rain.
You start to second guess the toast when it pops up in the toaster. You're not the slightest bit hungry and you're positive Will won't be either, but you have to try.
He hasn't eaten right in the past couple days. You didn't say anything, but you've noticed the few bites he'd given his food and the way he'd pick at it.
He should've been ready and downstairs by now, so you decide to go up and check on him.
Moving forward is hard for most people, but for Will, it's what keep the pain at bay. The problem is when he stops.
Like a tornado, he's left with the screaming silence and the damage it left in it's wake.
Now that he's home, the mission of bringing Tom home is complete, the hard truth that his friend and mentor is gone has begun to sink in.
You gently knock on the door as you reach your shared bedroom.
"Honey, do you want any help?"
"I'm good, sweetheart. I'll be right out."
You can hear him sniffle despite his attempt to sound as normal as possible. Unconvinced, you turn the knob and open the door.
He's sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black suit as he looks back over his shoulder at you with a Marine coin in hand, a gift from Tom when Will confessed about his therapy sessions.
You aren't too surprised to see he changed out of the formal military blue suit he had out on earlier.
The ribbons, the medals, the badges... He couldn't put them on without feeling the crushing and staining weight of guilt.
"Lat minute outfit change?"
The corner of your lips curl in an attempt to smile, hoping to cheer him up with a bit of tease.
"I was gonna wear my dress blues, but..." he trails off for a moment to swallow hard. "Just didn't feel right."
Without a word, you quietly walk over and sit beside him. You're not sure what he needs right now, but you don't want him to feel alone.
"Black is more flattering if you ask me," you speak up.
His beard twitches as he attempts to smile. He knows you just want to help him feel better. Yet all he can do is stare down at the gold coin.
"Five times... Five times. Five close calls. And he survived them all. He didn't deserve to go out like that. He just wanted to help his family."
You fight back tears as you listen to him with an arm wrapped his back as you press your cheek to his shoulder.
"I told Santi to get him in. I said I'd go if Tom was in. Tom didn't even want to go in the first place. He didn't-"
There's a crack in his voice which he catches it in his throat to compose himself. He sniffles letting a tear cascade down his cheek only to wipe it away quickly, hoping you hadn't seen it.
"This isn't on you, Will."
He nods although you both know deep inside that he won't stop blaming himself.
"When you told me you were a marine, I knew the risks that came with that, Will. Every knock on the door had my heart racing. But I decided to stay with you because I love you. There wasn't a person on earth or a God in the sky that was gonna tell me otherwise. I knew the risks and I took 'em anyways because not having you would've hurt more... I don't understand how fate works other than we all end up the same. What I do know is that all we can do is love our close ones and cherish the good memories you have of them."
With a tearful and silent nod, he lowers his head and rests it against your chest. His arms lock around your waist as he surrenders to the tears in your embrace.
The tears quietly trickle down your cheeks as you listen to him finally breaking down.
With your lips pressed against his golden hair, you hold him in your arms and stroke the hair on the back of his neck to soothe him for as long as he needs.
All you can do is hold him through it and he couldn't be more thankful to have you in such a vulnerable moment after having faced them on his own for so many years.
Just the feeling of not being alone was overwhelming enough, but to have you holding him and reminding him of the things that are easy to ignore in grief give him hope.
Although he feels he's coming apart, he knows that he'll have the strength he's always had.
It's different now. It's not the strength to bury and forget; it's the strength to heal.
With a sigh of relief after a long, vulnerable moment, he pulls away from you and nods, mentally assuring himself that he's alright.
Upon arriving at the church, you're greeted by Molly so you offer your deepest condolences due to the circumstances. Just as Will, you find that the guys have all opted to wear normal black suits instead of the formal military uniform and you wonder if it's for the same reason.
"Sorry for that," he sniffles wiping his eyes as he tries to regain his composure, swallowing hard with guilt. "We should get going... I don't wanna be late."
You remind him that there is no need to apologize and that he can take the time to splash some water on his face to help him recollect before leaving.
Frankie doesn't say a word other than to Molly and the girls, apologizing for their loss. Throughout the priest's religious ceremony of easing words, Benny's apathetic eyes are glued to Tom's casket set in front of the church between his military portrait and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers. During Will's heartfelt eulogy, Santiago keeps his head lowered as the guilt consumes him.
The grift and sadness during the wake only follow and weigh heavier during the long walk to the gravesite, lingering among the guests of the funeral like a dark cloud. It's only reflected in depths by the light rain pitter-pattering all around.
The military traditions at the funeral leave a bitter tinge of irony in the boys as they watch Tom's casket lowering into the ground.
Tess's happy big doey eyes are now swollen and red as she cries under her mother's arm, hugging the folded flag as if it were her dad, while Molly holds her other and youngest daughter under the other arm.
Looking over at Will, you see that he's trying his hardest to keep his strong facade as well as the boys.
You slide your hand into his and whisper to remind him he's not alone and doesn't have to feel alone.
With a gentle squeeze to your hand, he nods.
"You with me?"
"I'm with you."
You and Will - as well as the guys and Tom's family - are the last to leave, reminding Molly that you're more than willing to help with anything.
Will, however, lingers a moment to speak to her private and tells her about the fund. You can tell from her reaction, she's genuinely surprised and thankful, relieved to know that she'll be able to pay for the funeral.
Having called your boss the previous day to let them know you wouldn't be going to work due to the funeral, you take the rest of the day off to recover from the overwhelming day after the funeral.
The drive home is quiet save for the rain against the car and the windshield, echoing into the vehicle which you insisted on driving to give Will some mental ease. He didn't put up a fight. He was quite relieved you'd offered.
In spite of being eager to understand how he's doing, you refuse to burden him with constant questions and decide to respect his mourning process. So, you keep a hand on his thigh to remind you're in this together.
He doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he is grateful for your respect and your thoughtfulness. His hand rests over yours and doesn't leave until you have to pull your hand back to turn the steering wheel, but it finds it's way back onto his leg, warm fully welcomed by his engulfing hand.
As you're undressing in your room, Will's hand catches yours while you're unzipping your dress.
"Thanks... I don't know about you, but I'd say this weather is perfect cuddling weather," you share letting the dress hang loosely off your shoulders.
Will smiles shyly as if you'd read his mind and locks his arms around your waist.
"I couldn't agree more."
#william miller#will miller#william ironhead miller#will ironhead miller#will miller x reader#will miller x you#will miller x y!n#will ironhead miller headcanon#will ironhead miller x reader#william ironhead miller fanfiction#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier imagines#charlie hunnam
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hiiii, i love your writing so much <33 can you do a cod ghost x afab reader where maybe ghost gets emotional while they’re being intimate with each other? (in a good way, he’s overwhelmed with how close they are and how gentle the reader is being.) reader stops and comforts him and he gets very verbally vulnerable which is rare for him. i guess this would be sort of a fluff hurt/comfort sort of thing? preferably a shortfic, but you can make it long if you want to (i just wanna give simon a hug :((( )
heaven's outreached hands
synopsis: after a long, long time, simon has decided that in the warm glow of your shared lamp in your shared bedroom, that he wants to feel you and truly take back what is his: his body aka: what the ask said!
warnings: smut, hurt/comfort, allusions to prior SA, gn!reader, mentions of attempted suicide/OD, mentions of depressive episodes
a/n: i, too, want to give this poor man a hug as i've said in my previous fic with him. maybe this is our hug to him...honestly, i needed this hurt/comfort more than i thought i did. thanks anon for this!! so sorry this took longer than i expected, i got sick :(
Dating Simon is a test of your patience and determination. And you took on that responsibility like the champ you are. He made it clear when you had first started seeing each other that he’s not…a typical partner, that he needs you to be patient with him, and be gentle with him.
And so you did, You did everything you could, letting him have a few days to himself after every time he came back from his mission. You cooked for him when he could only make cup noodles for himself every few days or so. You even made him take vitamin supplements and locked up his meds, coming over to his flat every day to give him his dose. He loves you for everything you’ve done for him, so he saved up and asked you to live with him.
It’s been months and he’s been acting weird around you, more shy than usual and almost hesitant. He lays next to you in bed, a hand caressing yours as you smile at him—nothing but the warm sheets and his fingers dancing around yours.
“Lovie…there’s something I’ve…wanted to ask you,” He started slowly, again with that hesitant tone filling his voice.
You smiled at him, holding onto his finger as a sign of comfort, urging him on. “What is it?”
He pulled you closer to him by your hand and you agreed, shuffling under the covers to get closer to him. He whispered, taking your hand and kissing it, “I want to try and…get intimate with you.”
You’ve both talked about this before, having sex that is. And the most he’s ever told you was that he doesn’t have a good relationship with sex or anything regarding that. You held his hand and sat across from him, listening and telling him. You both decided to wait a while longer until he was sure he was willing and okay with it; you assured him you could wait. And you did. And he was okay with it now.
“Are you sure, baby?” You asked him gently, your thumb rubbing his hand and then sliding up slowly, hovering near his cheek.
He looked at you, anticipating your touch against his cool skin. Your gentle fingers brushed against his skin softly, he let out a downturned smile. “Yeah…I am. Is that okay with you?”
You nod, letting your hand fall entirely onto his cheek, fingertips messing with his growing blonde hair. You told him you liked his hair, he grew it out for you.
He smiled and pulled you close with a strong arm, kissing your lips lightly. You leaned into him, allowing him to kiss you with more rigor. Simon’s arms snaked around your waist and hoisted you up and over him, teasing at the hem of your shirt. You pulled away from him and took it off, allowing him to take in full view of your bare chest.
Eyes gazed up at you, glossy, adoring, and lustful, a way you’ve never seen them before. “You’re so beautiful, Lovie.”
“I wish you could see yourself in the same way my eyes do.”
You’ve lost track of time with him, the way he carves you with his soft, but powerful grip on the flush of your skin. The warmth of his cock, slowly dragging against your slick, velvety walls. It was different; it was gentle. He whispers against your ear in between his groans and grunts when you squeeze around him. Simon chants “I love you”s like it’s a prayer against the newfound gloss of both your skins.
He had you straddling him, your chest in his face, as he gripped your hips, guiding you down unto him. Big arms wrap around your waist, his face burying into your stomach. Your hands raked through his hair, holding onto him while you bounced on his stiff cock. But soon, you felt him tremble underneath you, and a small “you okay?” made its way out of your mouth.
Simon looked up at you, tears prickling his eyes, “Lovie…”
You gasped as you lifted yourself off of him, his arms still loose, but against your skin nonetheless, allowing you to sit on his thighs. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t…I don’t know.” He gasped as small tears fell from his eyes. Like his hero, your thumbs wiped them off as you held his face. “It just…feels good with you.”
Your face falls and you give him a slight grin, “Aw baby, I know…I know.” You cooed at him, getting him to chuckle and hide his face into your neck.
“Feels different with you, ‘m not used to it,” he sighs, letting you pet his hair. You kept your promise with him, you weren’t fast and rough, using him like he’d fear. You treated him like porcelain, not just some toy for your own pleasure. “Not like…like before. Wanted it this time.”
It clicks in your head what he was saying and you can hear your heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. He feels warm underneath your touch like he burns for you. You provide, he hesitantly takes. “I’m so sorry, Si…I didn’t know.” “It’s alright, I like this.” He pulls you in close to him, breathing in your familiar scent. “Love you…and your smell.”
Simon is here with you, truly here with you. His mind and body and spirit and all that he has is displayed for you to consume as yours. No longer will he recoil at the slightest of touches, flinch at an outreached hand when he’s naked of his gear, no, he’ll accept you as you accepted him.
“I’m not scared of you, Lovie, never will be.”
#cod mw2#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare 2#cod mwii#cod#modern warfare 2#cod ghost#fanfic#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#ghost x f!reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x male reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley ghost#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#simon riley#mw2#simon riley call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#katzwrites
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