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#im so embarrassed of my transitions
theloveinc · 9 months
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dabi x reader - you can't tell me this man doesn't know how to pick out jewelry, for himself or you.
(warning - no specific holiday mentioned, gn except there's a necklace <3)
happy holidays!
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It’s the end of the night. The soft glow of the holiday lights a comfort as you wind down from your day of calling friends and loved ones, drying your mouth with greetings and kisses that won’t be matched for another full year’s time.
Decorations adorn your apartment, waiting to be torn down sometime after New Years once you recover from your holiday bliss, the expected hangover that comes with it, and all your friends get up off your couch.
Dabi had… surprisingly… joined your celebrations this year. Last year, though you were familiar with him in ways just the same, you suppose you hadn’t actually known him well enough for him to willingly stand witness to the intimacy of your friendly gatherings. Though he hardly participated in the festivities even now—preferring to hover in the kitchen over the rising bread rolls and honey whilst others decorated cupcakes and shared food—he stood beside you like a good boyfriend when it was required of him, bowed his head for any introductions, and pinched out a smile when people asked what you got each other as gifts.
Which, mutually, was nothing.
(In all honesty, you considered your gift to him the simple fact that you allowed him to stay at your apartment more often than not… and simultaneously, weren’t expecting anything from him in return. Besides, he had hardly brought up the holiday season except for a handful of times, once almost embarrassedly, if not just cold, to confirm that he wasn’t going to be kicked out from your dwelling the second someone “civilized”—your words, out of his mouth—showed up.
(The only other time it came up was when he came home with a shoplifted bag of white chocolate peppermint kisses and started throwing them at you from across the living room when you scolded him about potentially being caught.))
And you didn’t mind.
For as long as you had known him, in sleeping together, and in dating—it was never about the material. Your heart was already full, by his doing (for a partial criminal, he was rather quite giving) and most others: your home was furnished and comfortable, your friends close and happy, and even the high quality pillows you had been wanting for ages (to which even Dabi agreed you needed new ones,) were so much of an aside that you hadn’t even bothered to ask anyone for anything.
It’s only now as the evening fades that he approaches—his face like a petulant cat waiting to be stroked, lips upturned under those glazed, knowing eyes—holding out a box you do not recognize.
No bigger than your fist, He doesn’t discard it gently in your lap. Instead, he tosses it to you nonchalantly, without concern for what’s underneath the terrible wrapping paper he made of yesterday’s newspaper, no obvious interest in your reaction.
Regardless, he lingers. First, you think to acknowledge your questioning look with a sneer. Then, when his lip is curled but he doesn’t move, you realize, to watch you unwrap the thing.
You roll your eyes, but give him what he wants… and under the newspaper find a soft velvet box. Not the right size for him to be offering you a ring, but instead the most beautiful pendant necklace: delicately chained and well-polished, it’s far superior (and more expensive) than what you would’ve assumed is his taste.
“Touya,” you say, suddenly shy with surprise as you glance up. “It’s lovely.”
He seems to balk at a response, barely shrugging when you catch his eye, as if you weren't expected to react at all.
“It’s nothing, really.”
You remove it from the box, careful not to pull too hard or potentially mar the gem, and stand to offer Dabi your neck though find that he’s already reaching in, eyes lowered, to help clasp the chain.
“Nothing? You can't say that. How'd you even pick something so...?"
His fingers are cold against the skin of your nape, though you find he’s careful not to snag any loose hairs that linger freely. He manages the hook in barely one try.
“So pretty?" he says, his voice is dry as ever as he presses you to turn and face him. "I had a feeling it might suit you. Think I might've been right, huh?"
And when you lead him to the mirror to inspect, you find that you happen to think so, too.
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woman-respecter · 27 days
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i hate the fact that i can’t drive so much, it makes it impossible to live almost anywhere in the country. like my only optioons are to get a job on wall street and move to nyc or kill myself asap
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krissonlythoughts · 10 months
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I haven't felt this much gender envy in WEEKS he's KILLING ME
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skunkes · 2 months
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is anybody sooo stressed out
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Hi, welcome to niche content.
Song: rapture (cover by: (the character) soldier boy) from the boys tv show
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queer-pagan-witch · 5 months
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One day I will learn, that just because the bottle is low, does not mean I need to finish off the bottle.
#imma be so fuckin hungover tomorrow#someone should kiss me#and i moght be either asexual or aromantic or both which like woo thats funny to only me for so many trauma reasons#i love#im so drunk#i too drunk#i stated typing thos at 12:30#imma smoke pot after i post this#if your reqding my tags hi i love you. why are you reading this though like im a schizo bipolar depreased trans girl im unhinged in the tags#i need to stop drinking by myself#if think im an alcoholic as well if it wasnt for the fact that i can genuinely stop when ever i want but idkmaybe that changes?#at this point im just typing to annoy myself cause i think its funny to annoy other people and itd be hypothetical to not annoy myself#im ramblimg in the tags and honestly its your fault for still reading this#trans thought time#i wish i was born with a pussy but i do like having a cock and there is a possibility im genderfluid and fuck me that sucks if true#like how do you transition if your genderfluid? like i kinda want a cock and pussy and i know thats an actual option#but is it the right option?#i hate being trans but not knowing what kinda trans maybe ill hit where im at with my gender and just say tranny#cause i already say faggot for my sexuality instead of anything specific maybe i should just say tranny#this is probably what a therapist is for but idk if i can justify paying for this instead of saving money to buy a hoise#america sucks#capitalism sucks#love is such a bullshit thing#how can i be in love with some ane be in love with someone. being in love is nothing but selfish but also you have to be selfish for youryou#like i know that doesn't make sense sense but it makes sense to me and i also know its wrong#maybe i should give up and spend money on a therapist#i love my freinds and would sacrifice myself for them literally#12:51 and i have one more short tag to add#i hope you didnt read this far cause even in a drunk state this tag is embarrassing and im sorry you know me irl im sorry this is rambly+ugh#but if you dead read all the tags <3 i love yoh and would die for you
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ghastbutlikegay · 2 years
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the funny thing about being an older sibling is watching as the younger siblings slowly realize what a loser i am
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chisungie · 3 months
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loverboybitch · 1 year
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trying to be gentle and not so hard on myself...emerging from my chrysalis..the wings im growing are still very tender<3.//.
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plutolovesyou · 3 months
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pathetic/nerdy/loser/perverted ellie ramble AJAKSOJSOJS. LOTS OF SMUT!! quick and really crass, just needed to get this outta my system LMFAO. want some more? click here for the continuation!!
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she'd be pining for you so hard, just consumed entirely by the limerence, so impossibly down bad for everything about you, it ate her up inside. she needed you in every way possible, needed to smell you, to taste you, to feel you clench around her fingers and tongue, she wanted you to crush her head —glasses and all—with your thighs, she needed it all.
and yeah, she did feel creepy about it—staring at your tits from afar, maybe sitting in the park someday after her class, thank god for transitional lenses. she felt her face go tomato-red from the shame, what in the world was she doing, ogling her sort of-friend like that, but fuck did it fuel her fantasies.
in the dark of the night, you were the only thing occupying her poor, horny mind, as she stuffed two, no, three digits in her soaking pussy, using every morsel of her imagination to materialize the sight of you being the one to make her see stars. she'd imagine covering you in marks and hickeys, watching your wrist flex while you were knuckle deep inside of her.
her eyes brimming with tears, knuckles dripping in pearly cum forming a fucking puddle beneath her, pounding in and out of her quivering walls over and over and over again until she felt light-headed, she found it the only way to cope.
“ugh- fuck baby, yeah that's it..mmf." whines and just the utmost pathetic pleas tumbled from her swollen, rosy lips, her clit near aching from the abuse she thrusted on it nightly. chanting your name in the night akin to a prayer— ironic. this was anything but holy—imagining the way your tits would bounce, the way you'd cry her name out and drench her in your fluids, she'd even imagine herself on her knees, being the one staring up at you between your legs as you run your nails through her hair, hold her chin.
“please, wanna cum again, c'mon baby. fuck, fuck, fuck- yeah, hnn-!!” tears fully streaming down her freckled cheeks at this point, her whole body tensing as she came for what seemed like the thousandth time this night, she continued until it was causing her a great deal of pain. until she was completely wrung dry. “...what am i doing. fuckin’ hell.”
breathing heavily, the shame really sets in now. what was she doing? rolling over in her damp bed, she'd groan while the embarrassment made her cheeks burn hotter than the deepest pits of hell—where she's convinced she's gonna enjoy the hospitality of if she keeps this up—she'd bury her face in her pillow and pass out into a slumber, only until the cycle repeats itself the next night.
but little did she know, her experience was being mirrored, almost with creepy accuracy, wherever you were. pining just as hard for the lanky loser you were mere acquaintances with. teasing her on purpose, just to watch the dark flush spread across her features, to watch her shift uncomfortably and avoid your taunting stare with everything she's got, squeeze her thighs together to soothe the ache you knew she was going to take care of later as soon as you part ways. it drove you nuts too. if only she knew. if only!
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WHY DID THIS EAT LMAOOO but oop went a little overboard my bad um ok enjoy bye can u tell im in a mood lately pls give me notes even tho its 2am ik everyones dead but oh well luv u
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nadvs · 2 months
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i have loved your work for some time now and you always outdone yourself with every new thing you write. im obsessed with the sleeping with the enemy blurbs🤍🤍
can i request rafe getting into a fight because he heard someone talking bad about reader and he goes to her dorm and she cleans him up and he doesn't confess what happened because she would mock him or something like that?
YOU’RE SO SWEET OH MY GOSH THANK YOU 😭 i loved writing the one-shot and i’m so pleasantly surprised and touched that so many readers like the au!! tysm i love this request!!
based on this fic
before he knows it, rafe’s knuckles are pulsating with a sharp ache. it all happened so fast.
he’s at a bar off campus. he’s painfully sober. his team lost at an embarrassing margin today. and then, he heard one of the guys who’s dating a girl on his team’s cheerleading squad shit-talking his best friend.
he called her an attention whore. said she purposely hikes up her skirt when she dances at games and will say yes to any guy who asks for ‘you know what’.
rafe knows the truth. this guy likely got caught looking at her by his girlfriend and is now overcompensating by saying how gross the hawks’ cheerleader is.
even though his words were bullshit, they were more than enough for rafe to start swinging. unfortunately, his victim had friends near by. they got a few punches in. then he got kicked out of the bar.
at this point, she’s the only person who can make him feel better. so, he’s knocking on her door soon after. he invited her out tonight, but she told him she’s staying in to study.
she gasps when she opens the door and sees him holding a red stained tissue up against his mouth.
“what the fuck…” she breathes. “are you okay?”
before he can answer, she pulls him in by the crook of his elbow and guides him to sit on her desk, pushing her textbooks away.
she lowers his hand, eyes worryingly searching his face.
“how much does it hurt?” she says with a wince.
“it’s not that bad,” he says. it’s true. the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet, but he’s sure he’ll be bruised up and sore tomorrow. “but i fucked up my hand.”
she looks down at him flexing his hand. his knuckles are red and swollen. she holds his hand in hers, her skin warm and soft, and shakes her head.
“shit,” she whispers. “i’ll be right back.”
she rushes out to the bathroom and comes back with paper towels, some damp and some dry. then, she pours him some water from her mini-fridge and puts a bottle of painkillers beside him on the desk.
rafe watches her in awe as she scrambles to help. he’s not sure he’s ever had someone be this worried about him. this determined to make him feel better.
he keeps his hands on his lap as she leans forward, dabbing the damp paper against his skin.
“lay it on me,” she says quietly. “and spare no details.”
rafe already rehearsed this in the car. he hates to lie to her considering the fact that honesty is basically the cornerstone of their friendship. but repeating what that jackass at the bar said is a waste of breath. it’ll just hurt her. he can’t hurt her.
“some guy was talking shit about the game,” he fibs.
“sorry. it was a rough one tonight,” she says. “last thing you needed was that.”
he had a game at a college an hour away tonight, so she had a stream of it playing as she studied. she watches his games whenever she can.
rafe is an amazing player. she never followed or cared this much about the career of any athlete she dated. and she’s not even dating him.
“it was bullshit,” he mutters.
“it was,” she agrees. she slowly runs the dry paper towel over where she moistened his cheek. “how many times did they rebound foul? i actually lost count.”
“exactly,” he says.
“and if i’m out of line, fine,” she continues, “but what the hell was morrow doing? was he tired? he was practically handing them opportunities.”
rafe nods. he laid into eddie morrow, his team’s small forward, for his shitty defensive transitions tonight.
“he told me he had a bad sleep,” rafe scoffs.
“great excuse,” she breathes. she straightens, looking at his cleaned up face.
it gives him an opportunity to stare at her. she’s so casual about it all. how quickly she swept in to clean him up. how much she knows about the game he lives and breathes. how beautiful she is.
how could anyone say anything bad about this woman?
“you’re a little swollen but still pretty, for what it’s worth,” she says with a smile. “i just hope your hand’s okay in time for your next game.”
even if it isn’t, rafe knows that punching someone for shit-talking her was worth it.
“take one if you want,” she tells him, picking up the bottle of painkillers. “get ahead of the pain.”
he pops a painkiller and gulps down the water she poured him.
“you wanna hang out here while i study?” she asks. “my room is way more exciting than some bar.”
she’s being sarcastic, but honestly, hanging out with her does sound like more fun than going out.
“sure,” he says simply. he’s exhausted. and being here feels good.
throughout the evening, rafe lies on her bed, scrolling on his phone while she studies at her desk. every so often, they fall into easy conversation. but it’s no surprise. everything between them is so effortless.
eventually, he starts dozing off and is about to stand to leave, but she tells him he can just pass out in her bed.
as rafe falls into his slumber, smelling her on her pillow, he tiredly mumbles that he wishes he met her sooner. she turns to look at him in surprise, feeling butterflies over his words when she knows she shouldn’t feel that way about her friend. his eyes are already shut.
he falls asleep thinking about how good she smells. she continues to study thinking about how nice is to have him around.
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Your stories and images are beyond incredible. My favorite blog on tumblr BY FAR. Truly incredible work. I guess it’s kind of selfish, so absolutely so absolutely no worries, at the very least I got to tell you how much I appreciate and love your content. But I’m a short, nerdy, thin, art student in college right now. I’m tired of being in the closet, I’m tired of being a push over, Im tired of being weak and submissive, I’m tired of being a virgin, and I wanna change. Maybe you could help with a story by turning me into one of those jaw dropping beautiful confident men that you make the pictures of, I would very much appreciate it. But no worries if you can’t, I just love your content!
Confidence
Nathaniel sighed quietly, as he came over his hairless stomach. Of course, he had to be quiet! The dorm walls were paper-thin, and he certainly didn't want the guys from the neighboring dorm rooms to hear him. He looked at the website once more, with the story and the hot buff men before he closed the incognito browser tab and proceeded to clean himself up.
When he looked into the bathroom mirror, he sighed again, but this time, it was a sigh of sadness. There really wasn't anything remotely impressive about him. He was thin and weak, and pathetic really. If it wasn't for his lack of boobs and his sorry excuse for a dick, he could very well pass as a woman. In fact, he had been mistakenly called "Madame" more than once, and one time, he had even been asked "how his transition was going".
No, Nathan was a cis man, just not a very impressive one. He was gay, of course, and loved to look at 'real' men while jerking his small cock. Most of the time, he fantasized about some hairy brute rough-handling him, pushing his face against the bed and fucking his tiny ass into submission. However, even though the thought was exciting to Nathan, he even more wished to *be* such a man. The rational part of Nathan knew that both fantasies would not happen anytime, though. It was physically impossible to just *become* a 'real man', and it was impossible for Nathan to even admit to anyone that he was gay. So, he would probably just stay a closeted virgin forever - doomed to masturbate to some kinky stories he was so embarrassed about that he only dared to look at them from an incognito browser tab.
He sighed a third time when he crawled into bed. Perhaps someday he would accept his fate.
Nathan was already almost asleep when he heard the firework starting outside. Right. It was New Year’s Eve. What a way to start the new year.
The next morning, Nathan was feeling a bit better. Of course, his deep-rooted unhappiness still lingered within him, but Nathan decided to try and enjoy the day. He liked new year’s days. Everyone usually was at home after having celebrated the whole night which meant that the world outside was very quiet. Not much happened on New Year’s Day.
Nathan decided to go to a nearby cafe. There, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate next to him, he got out his drawing utensils and looked around the place. There weren't too many people. An older couple sat together, the man reading a book, and the woman reading a magazine, while an elderly lady sat at the counter. She was probably the owner. However, there was one more guy, a young adult like Nathan, who sat on a nearby table all by himself and was playing on his phone. He had his chair tilted back a bit, stabilizing himself against the wall and rocking a bit. He had earphones in his ear, so he was probably listening to music while doing so.
Nathan's first instinct was to draw the old couple, but then he looked at the other young man again. He looked a bit like one of those men from the internet, the kind that Nathan would fantasize about. Just a bit. The other man wasn't burly and muscular and assertive, but instead he had a lean, fit build. Nathan was a bad judge of character, especially without having spoken to the person in question, but the young man didn't look particularly assertive or dominant either. So, all in all, not too much like the men Nathan longed for on the internet. But still, he had a certain charm to him. Nathan liked the fit, lean body and the aura of positivity the man seemed to exude and wanted to capture that on paper.
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Nathan began sketching the man, while occasionally looking up, making sure the man wouldn't notice. However, it was hard to keep his eyes off the guy. Every now and then, he would laugh a bit or make a funny face when watching something on his phone, which Nathan couldn't help but find very attractive.
He was just working on drawing the man's hands, when Nathan suddenly heard someone address him.
"Hey, what are you drawing?" The voice didn't sound rude or unfriendly, but plainly interested. Still, Nathan flinched visibly. The attractive man on the other table had removed one earplug and turned towards Nathan.
"Uh, sorry?" stuttered Nathan, not quite sure how to react. The guy pointed at Nathan's drawing pad and smiled: "You're an artist?"
Nathan could feel the blood rushing to his face. The drawing pad was tilted towards Nathan, so his unvoluntary model could not have seen what exactly Nathan was drawing. He could - no, he should - just lie and tell him he was sketching something in the room. But he just couldn't think of anything and the time for a good answer was running out. Almost involuntarily, Nathan stuttered, with his head red like a tomato: "Uhm, yeah, kind of. I was sketching you, actually."
The guy laughed a short and friendly laugh: "Really? Cool! Can I see it?"
Nathan could feel his heartbeat quicken, and his face got even redder. This was so embarrassing! But he couldn't very well refuse now, could he? So, he placed the pad flat on the table, just as the guy came over and sat himself down on Nathan's table.
"Oh wow!", he sounded impressed. "You're really talented! It's like looking into a mirror."
"Thanks" - Nathan hated getting compliments. Not only didn't he know how to react to them, but he also found them mostly fake. He was an art student, but he wasn't that good really, at least in his own opinion. In the dictionary, there was probably a picture of Nathan right next to the entry for "Imposter Syndrome".
"But why are you drawing me?" Although Nathan had feared that this question might come up, he didn't have a good lie to answer it. It was almost as if his mouth was acting on its own, when Nathan heard himself stammer: "Uh, eh, it's because I... I find you quite handsome actually. Good-looking I mean."
Nathan wished for nothing more than to be swallowed by the earth here and now. But to his big surprise, the guy just laughed again and said: "You think so? Thanks! The name's Oliver by the way." Oliver had, apparently, much less of a problem taking a compliment.
"Nathan." said Nathan and started to relax a tiny bit. However, the situation suddenly got even worse, when Oliver continued, in the same light-hearted voice. "Nice to meet you, Nathan! Are you into guys?"
Nathan froze solid. He hadn't expected that. And even worse, the answer was, of course, yes. But there was no way he could say that, was there? So, instead, he just stared at Oliver with his eyes wide open and a deer-in-headlights look.
"I mean, I'm gay - are you as well?" Oliver explained. "With the whole drawing dudes and all."
Nathan's brain had stopped working properly, so he couldn't help but nod and mumble a faint "yes".
Oliver's smile broadened and he said: "Really? Cool!"
Nathan's mind was racing. He had just admitted his homosexuality. To a complete stranger. Out of the blue. He didn't plan to come out that way, it just... happened.
A moment of awkward silence radiated from Nathan, but, thankfully, Oliver salvaged the situation pretty elegantly.
"Listen Nathan, I'll have to run now. But are you free tomorrow around 2? We could grab a coffee and you could show me some of your drawings if you like."
A spark of bravery, completely foreign to him, awakened in Nathan and he answered: "Y-yes. I think I would like that."
Oliver smiled another of his broad smiles. "Awesome! Let's meet here then tomorrow!"
With that, Oliver nodded at Nathan and left the cafe, putting in his headphone again while humming happily.
Did that really just happen? Nathan looked from the unfinished drawing towards the cafe door. Did he really just... got invited to a date? With a handsome guy named Oliver? Nathan wasn't sure whether to be happy or not. On the one hand, it was a miracle, a once in a lifetime opportunity. A cute and hot guy was actually interested in him! But on the other hand, there was no way he could make a good impression. How desperate had that Oliver guy to be to actually ask *him* out?
A small voice in his head insisted that he could just not show up tomorrow and avoid the whole disappointment. But the spark of bravery was still there, and Nathan fought down the feeling. No, he was going to show. If it turned out to be a disaster, he could still flee the scene - it wasn't like Oliver knew literally anything about him.
Nathan quickly packed his things and returned to his dorm room. Once he arrived, he noticed that he was completely covered in sweat of fear. His shirt showed wet spots under his arms and felt cold to the touch. Disgusted, Nathan immediately went for a shower. Only there, standing under the hot steamy water, Nathan could appreciate what happened. He got *asked out*. On a *date*. With a *guy*. Yesterday he had been certain he would die alone and lonely but then, today, he got *asked out*. Was this really a thing? Did it really happen?
He wasn't sure. He had a hard time believing it. Perhaps the whole thing was just a weird dream? A figment of his imagination. But no. The half-finished drawing was proof enough that Oliver really existed.
When Nathan exited the shower cabin, the whole bathroom was covered in steam, blinding the mirrors. Perhaps this - or the spinning of his thoughts - was the reason that he didn't notice that his hair had changed. Instead of his usual medium length brown-ish hair, he now sported a much shorter hairstyle - in a much darker color, almost black. Be it as it may - Nathan had other things on mind than checking his hair. He spent the whole afternoon and even the evening researching on how to make a good impression on a first date.
The next morning, Nathan slept in, which was pretty unusual for him. His whole frame felt weird, when he crawled out of bed. It wasn't too late, either - he had a comfortable 3 hours until the date. When he passed the bathroom mirror on his morning routine, however, he stopped for a moment. Something was... off about his face. His hair. It looked kind of... different?
Nathan stared at his reflection for a few seconds, straining his mind. Somehow, the shape of his jawbone seemed unfamiliar. And was his hair always that dark, almost black?
Finally, he shook his head. No, he was just seeing things. Of course, that was as it always had been. After having finished his bathroom business, Nathan went for a shower and prepared himself.
An hour later, he stood in front of the mirror, trying out a bunch of outfits and felt slight panic rising inside of him. None of his clothes fit very well, it was like he was cursed! It wasn't that his shirts and pants were much too big or much too small, but for some reason none of his clothes really felt comfortable. Both his favorite shirt and his usual jeans felt somewhat constricting today. Finally, Nathan just put on an outfit, and left his room.
When he entered the cafe, Oliver was already sitting there, two coffee mugs in front of him. He smiled, waved and gestured for Nathan to join him.
"Hello, Nathan!"
"H-hi." said Nathan, his nervousness returning.
"Here, I bought you a coffee!" Oliver pushed one of the mugs over the table.
"Thanks." Nathan was somewhat distracted by the ill-fitting clothes, and he could pretty much feel the nervous sweat practically pouring out of his pores.
"No problem!", said Oliver. "I was early, anyway. How are you doing today?"
"Fine." said Nathan and took a sip of his coffee, trying to hide his nervousness. He vividly remembered all the good advice he had read yesterday, but all that felt just impossible to him.
"So, you're an artist? What do you do?" Oliver asked with genuine interest.
"Well, I study art, I guess. I want to be a concept artist, you know, for games or movies or so. But, eh, right now, I'm just a student, and I'm not really that good."
"That's not how I remember it!" smiled Oliver. "Can you show me more of your work?"
Nathan nodded as he got out his sketchbook. Talking about his art was something he was comfortable with and allowed him to warm up somewhat over the course of the conversation. Oliver appeared to be quite a nice guy and had a lot of questions about drawing, so, Nathan, in turn, started to relax and talk more freely. He found out that Oliver was a veterinary technician and had a part time job at a dog shelter. That, combined with the fact that he was, in general, a really nice and positive guy, made him incredibly appealing to Nathan.
After the two had talked for a while, Oliver suddenly remarked: "You know, I really like your stubble! It really suits you!"
Stubble? What was he talking about? Nathan rarely needed to shave, but he had done so this morning, so, it was absolutely impossible that he should have visible facial hair. And yet, as he felt his chin, his fingers met with bristly short hair, so dense and long that there was no way he could have missed it this morning. Nathan found it strange, to say the least, but didn't want to make a scene in this situation. His spark of courage was a small candle flame now, as he just smiled while he felt his chin and said "Thank you!"
The two continued to chat a bit. While doing so, Nathan tried not to think too much about the fact that his clothes were, somehow, tighter than before.
Finally, Oliver's phone buzzed, and he looked at the screen.
"Damn, it's that late already?"
"What is it?", asked Nathan.
"Oh, the dog shelter. I have a shift soon, I need to go!"
Nathan sighed inwardly. He was really enjoying the date and didn't want it to end. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of Olivers hand on his. It felt... good. Good and strange, like the texture of his own hand was somewhat wrong, somewhat rougher than before. When he looked up into Oliver's eyes, he found the other man smiling.
"I really enjoyed this. You are a wonderful person, Nathan. We should do this again."
Nathan nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.
"How about... tomorrow?", Oliver continued. "There's an art exhibition in town, perhaps you would like to go there with me?"
Nathan's heart jumped a beat. He didn't have time or courage yet to go to the exhibition and the prospect of seeing Oliver again so soon was wonderful.
"I would very much like that", Nathan replied and smiled.
"Great! Let's meet there, say at 5?"
"Sure!"
Oliver smiled his beautiful, broad smile, and stood up, leaving some money for the coffees on the table. Nathan too got up, but before he could leave, Oliver stopped him with a warm expression in his eyes. "You know, I really think I like you a lot." He said, and his hand touched Nathan's somewhat bristly cheek. Almost automatically, both of their faces drew closer to each other, until their lips met with the slightest touch. It was a chaste, short kiss, but Nathan could feel Oliver's lips smile when they broke apart.
"See you tomorrow!", said Oliver and left the cafe.
Nathan's knees felt weak, and his heart was beating rapidly. There were a thousand feeling, all happening inside him at once and Nathan needed a moment to sort through them before he was able to move again. There was a part of him that couldn't quite believe what just happened, but the biggest part was just euphoric. He basically jogged back to his home, full of a never experienced energy.
When he arrived in his room, his body was feeling even weirder than before. All of his clothes were way too tight. It was not just that he felt constricted, no, the clothes actually were much too small. He quickly got rid of them, noticing that, again, he had sweated like a pig. As Nathan glanced down on himself, he could almost see that his body was somehow different. Fitter, healthier. It was probably just his imagination, though, caused by his ecstatic mood. He briefly considered taking another shower but postponed it to tomorrow. There would be plenty of time and Nathan felt really glad and tired for today.
Nathan woke up from two different feelings the next morning. First, he felt itchy and sweaty all over his body and was subconsciously scratching himself in his sleep. Second, and perhaps even more importantly, Nathan was experiencing a severe case of morning wood. His manhood was rigid and pulsating under his sheets and was begging for attention. Nathan had a hard time remembering when he last experienced such an urgent urge to jerk off. He wasn't sure, but the memories of their kissing yesterday came to his mind as soon as he woke up, so, he couldn't resist closing his hand around his hard cock and started pumping. His hand felt rough and big, and Nathan couldn't be sure, but both length and girth of his tool seemed increased, too. However, Nathan could hardly concentrate on that due to the waves of pleasure washing over him.
It didn't take very long for Nathan to shoot a big load onto his stomach, with a moan. It was a big and sticky load, too, mixing with the little dark hairs on his stomach and chest. Nathan blinked in post-nut clarity. Hairs? He didn't have body hair.
Nathan got up quickly and went to the bathroom. Something about his perspective was off, too. It was like the ceiling was closer than it was supposed to be, and the ground further away. Once Nathan had used some toilet paper to wipe away most of the cum, he took a look at himself in the mirror. There was no denying that he looked different. He was definitely somewhat taller and broader than before. He didn't have a scale, but he was sure that he had gained quite some weight as well - not only due to the increased height and broader shoulders but also because his previous stickman-like appearance had been altered quite somewhat. All over his frame, a lean definition was visible, hinting at muscles even. His chin was covered in visible stubble and there was a bit of body hair visible, mainly on his chest and stomach as well as peeking out under his armpit.
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Speaking of which, as Nathan raised his arm to look at his pits, a certain smell reached his nose. A musky, manly, slightly sweaty odor that wasn't quite unpleasant but was certainly unfamiliar.
Nathan had a hard time wrapping his mind around what he was seeing. There was no denying he looked *good*. He just didn't look exactly like *himself*. And for some reason, this didn't bother Nathan quite as much as it probably should. He should be panicking or calling a doctor. People didn't just grow taller overnight or put on definition without working out. And yet, Nathan only felt a slight bit of curiosity and a weak impulse that he probably *should* work out then.
Nathan shook his head and went back to his bedroom. He didn't bother putting on clothing and tried to pass the time until afternoon. The only thing that he *really* regretted about his sudden changes was that his favorite shirt and jeans would definitely not fit anymore.
He ended up watching a bit of TV and browsing the internet, before he decided it was time to prepare himself. Finding clothes that would fit now proved to be quite a challenge, but in the end, he settled on a plain t-shirt and some cargo pants. He had bought both of them a number too big by mistake, which came in quite handy now.
Walking through the city was a strange experience. He felt good about himself and held his head high. Combined with the fact that Nathan's head was, indeed, higher than before, it was like seeing the city in a whole new perspective. Less looking at the ground and more looking straight ahead.
His new posture seemed to have another effect, too. Where before he had to avoid people, trying not to get in their way, now they seemed to be stepping aside for him, which was a foreign but not unpleasant experience.
Finally, he arrived at the exhibition and found Oliver already waiting for him. They greeted with a hug and a short kiss, both fully reciprocated by Nathan, and went inside. Although Oliver seemed to notice something was off about Nathan, he didn't mention it and apparently forgot about it quickly.
Today, Nathan found it much easier to talk to Oliver and brought up topics by himself.
The exhibition however was kind of a let-down for Nathan. Although he could judge on a rational level that the art presented here was really well-done and interesting, on a purely emotional level, Nathan found it mind-numbingly boring. The conversation steered away from the art quickly, and more towards personal matters, which was a relief. So, even though they didn't care much about the paintings around them, the two of them ended up wandering around the exhibition for hours, talking and having a good time.
During the date, however, Nathan was quickly experiencing an unfamiliar feeling. The company of Oliver was... exciting. Exciting on a sexual, primal level. Nathan's larger manhood grew semi-hard in his underwear quickly, so Nathan had to readjust himself more than once. At first, he was very self-conscious about it and tried to be as subtle as possible. However, with every push his cock needed in order not to be too obvious, Nathan actually cared less about who saw him readjust himself. He was a guy after all, and all big-dicked men had that particular problem from time to time.
Besides forming a bulge in his groin, however, his constantly semi-hard cock did one more thing: Nathan was leaking precum in his underwear. First, it was just a drop or two on an involuntary throb, but it quickly became more. His underwear was feeling damp before long, and a faint note of sexuality mixed into his still present smell.
After a while, Oliver even commented on it, in his usual upbeat way: "Hey, Nathan, I have to say, you smell pretty good. Are you using cologne?"
Nathan hadn't noticed his own smell too much. His first impulse was to apologize, but the burning campfire of courage inside of him quickly told him otherwise. Oliver didn't complain. In fact, he liked it.
So, Nathan answered with a grin: "Nope. That's just how I smell."
Oliver took another whiff of the mixture of sweat, dried cum and precum and smiled. "Well, I like it!"
Nathan wasn't quite sure how to react, and just said: "Thanks!"
The exhibition was closing down soon, and Nathan offered Oliver to accompany him to the train station, which he gladly accepted. When they parted, they kissed again. This time, it wasn't a small, timid kiss like before, but a long, sexual one that made Nathan's dick twitch like mad in the confines of his pants. Since their bodies were pressed closely together, Nathan could be sure that Oliver felt the movement against his own groin.
Only after they broke the kiss, Nathan noticed that he was now looking down on Oliver slightly. He could have sworn that Oliver had been slightly taller than him yesterday.
There was no telling on how the evening would have continued hadn't it been for Oliver's train to arrive just then. Before Oliver could board the train, however, Nathan grinned at him and said: "Dinner tomorrow? The Italian place downtown, at 6?"
"I would love that!"
They kissed again and Nathan watched as the train pulled out. Then, he went back to his dorm, whistling a happy tune. It didn't even occur to him that he had taken the initiative in asking Oliver out for a third date. The fire of confidence was burning bright inside of him.
When he came home, Nathan immediately stripped out of his clothes. Even the larger shirt had become somewhat tight. He took a short look at it. There was a wet patch under both arms from his constant sweating, and the t-shirt had adapted his smell. There was something else in the smell, though. At the chest region, there was a medium sized stain, machine oil from the smell of it. Nathan wondered briefly how he could have missed it this morning but then diverted his attention to more pressing matters. His cock was fully hard and was poking out from the waistband of his briefs. Nathan hadn't had an erection like that since puberty and, if he was honest with himself, the feeling was rather nice. Without hesitation, he closed his hand around his hard meat and gave it a few experimental pumps. A low growl escaped his mouth, and a shiver went through his body. He didn't want to go slow, he wanted to fuck. His mind was focused on the task at hand. He didn't even bother to close his curtains, as he went for it. Nathan was jacking himself off, fast and hard, growling and groaning, until he finally exploded all over his chest and face, shooting multiple loads of thick white cum everywhere.
As Nathan was catching his breath, the smell of cum was heavy in the room. God, he needed that. Ever since he met Oliver today. He wiped his face and chest with his discarded t-shirt and briefly considered if he wanted to take a shower. The smell emanating from him was rather strong now, but still, he didn't want to. Oliver seemed to like his body odor, and, if Nathan was being honest, he did so himself, too.
Nathan was woken by his alarm the next morning. As his mind came to focus, his hand reached for the smartphone automatically and dismissed the alarm. He yawned and stretched. He was really looking forward to today. Given, it was the last day before classes started again, but he was going to a third date with Oliver this evening!
When Nathan crawled out of bed and went for his bathroom, however, his body felt weird again. The muscles had become more defined over the course of the last two days and now, the whole body structure felt *strong*. The few hairs from before had become a small forest of body hair and the stubble had grown thicker. He still didn't feel the need for a shave, though.
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Nathan wasn't quite sure about the whole situation. Of course, he was enjoying the change. On the other hand, ... No, fuck the other hand. This was great, plain and simple. He finished his morning business standing up while peeing, which he usually never did. But right now, it just felt *right*.
After that, he inspected his wardrobe. He had half-feared that he would need to go and buy new clothes, but apparently, overnight his wardrobe had changed as well. It was filled with sturdy cargos or work pants as well as simple shirts and the occasional overall. Good!
His underwear choice had also changed. Instead of briefs or boxers, the drawer was now filled with jockstraps. That made sense, of course - only a jockstrap would set his large dick in the right scene.
None of the clothes qualified as "clean". Sure, they had been washed before they went into the wardrobe, but permanent grease or oil stains had permeated the fabric just as Nathan's manly stink - both marks no washing machine could ever erase entirely.
Nathan grabbed one of the pants and smelled it. He couldn't help but smile. This was his smell. This was *his* smell. His manly, sweaty, dirty, horny smell. He even felt his ever-present dick twitch a bit at the smell. Nathan wasn't sure if he would ever get used to this new reality. Or if this even was the final reality.
The hours passed quickly. Nathan was keeping himself busy, playing games or listened to music. Not once did it occur to him to draw something or even look at his art. This new him wasn't particularly creative, it seemed.
Nathan's mind wandered back to the date this evening. He couldn't wait to see Oliver again. In fact, he couldn't wait for more than that. It was a third date and Nathan wanted to go all the way with Oliver. He wanted to take his ass and fuck it into oblivion.
At around 5 pm, Nathan stood in front of the Italian place, waiting for Oliver. When Oliver finally arrived, the two men greeted each other with a passionate kiss. Nathan could tell that the kiss was having an effect on Oliver, as his breathing was quicker than usual.
They went inside and sat down on a table. Almost automatically, Nathan's legs spread wide, taking up space, establishing presence and, most importantly, giving his equipment the necessary space. The *old* Nathan would have sat with his legs closed or even crossed, in order to not draw any attention to himself. However, the new Nathan didn't want to draw *less* attention.
The two chatted a bit, with the main topic of the conversation being the menu, before ordering. When he spoke, Nathan noted that his voice had dropped an octave, making his voice gravely and his laugh a low rumble. When Oliver had chosen, Nathan summoned the waiter and ordered for the both of them, his lower voice full of confidence. For Nathan, it was a large meat pizza and a beer.
"You know, I have never seen you drink before", remarked Oliver.
"I don't usually", replied Nathan. "But I thought I'd have a beer today."
"You're not driving, are you?"
"Na, I'm here on foot."
Oliver smiled his usual smile. "I'm here by car, so if you like, I can give you a ride home afterwards."
There seemed to be some subtext to this offer, but it went over Nathan's head. Not that it was necessary, because he had the exact same plans, anyway.
"Sounds great!"
A couple of minutes later, their pizzas arrived, and the two dug in.
"I really like your style, Nathan." said Oliver after a while.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, the way you dress. The way you talk. The way you act."
"Oh. Thanks."
Nathan thought for a moment before he added: "You know, I go by Nate these days."
"Nate, eh?", smiled Oliver.
"Yeah. Fits better, you know."
"I guess so. I like it a lot!"
"I like your style, too."
"What do you mean by that?", Oliver laughed.
"Just, the way you talk, the way you walk. Everything. You're cute, you know."
"Why, thank you!"
The conversation was definitely a lot more flirtatious than yesterday. When they had finished their meals, they didn't linger much longer in the restaurant but got into Oliver's car.
Nate proceeded to give Oliver directions to his home. However, at a certain crossing, he had to stop and think for a moment. He knew for a fact that his dorm was to the left. But he also knew for a fact that his *home* was to the right. Nate decided not to overthink it and directed Oliver to the right with a firm voice.
They didn't get very far from that point, when suddenly, the car stopped with a jerk.
"Damn, sorry!" said Oliver. "The engine is acting up again. It's probably too cold or something like that. I'll just try to start it up again."
When after the third try, the engine didn't start again, Nate laid a hand on Oliver's. "Let me try." he said with a confident voice and left the car. When he opened the hood, the problem became clear to him right away.
"The carburetor is a bit clogged, I'll unclog it real quick and we're ready to go."
While Oliver was staring at Nate in surprise, as the latter quickly and with trained skill removed a few parts and then, with a flex of his mighty arms, applied percussive maintenance to the part in question. After Nate had reassembled the engine, he cleaned his hands on his pants and got into the car again, filling out the passenger seat with his presence.
"It should work again for now, but I'll have to clean it thoroughly tomorrow. The thing is just old and worn down, it needs replacing soon. Just try starting the engine."
Oliver was still staring at Nate with a disbelieving look on his face. Finally, however, he tried starting the engine again, and the car did indeed start running smoothly.
"Wow, Nate, that was amazing! Where did you learn that?"
"What do you mean", grinned Nate. "That's what I do!"
Oliver stared at him for a moment. "Wait, you're a mechanic?"
"Yeah, sure, didn't I tell you when we met?"
Oliver seemed to think about it but then slowly nodded: "Yes, I... think so. Weird. I could have sworn..."
Nate shrugged and pointed down the road: "Shall we go?"
They arrived at Nate's place shortly after. He had a cheap apartment directly over the car garage where he worked. Nate did try to clean up a bit the afternoon, but the place still screamed "Manly bachelor" all over the place with the occasional beer can or jockstrap scattered around.
Neither of them had time to care, though. As soon as the door closed, the two kissed. It wasn't just a chaste, romantic kiss. This was a heated, passionate kiss, full of desire and lust. Nate took Oliver's body and pushed him against the wall, grinding their bodies together. Both were hard and their breathing was rapid. Nate's hands wandered up and down Oliver's body, squeezing and grabbing his body. His fingers were strong and forceful, and he squeezed the smaller man's buttocks and his dick with the same intensity. Oliver responded by moaning and pushing his groin against Nate's, humping him.
Suddenly, Nate broke the kiss. "Oliver, I... I want you. I want to fuck you."
Oliver didn't answer, but kissed Nate again, harder this time. Nate's tongue invaded his mouth, and the bigger man's hands were ripping Oliver's shirt and pants off him. Once Oliver's dick was free, it was enveloped by Nate's big calloused hand, and Oliver's breath hitched in his throat.
"Oh god, Nate, yes!" he moaned.
Nate had enough of foreplay, and he wanted to fuck, now. Without wasting any time, he quickly pushed his pants down and pressed his dick against Oliver's. It was massive, even compared to Oliver's not insignificant size. While Nate's balls were big and heavy, his cock was thick, long, and veiny, with a fat mushroom head. It was also rock hard, and the head was already drooling precum.
With one hand, Nate stroked the two cocks together, rubbing them and smearing the precum all over his dick and Oliver's. With the other hand, he pulled Oliver close and kissed him again, a long, sensual, passionate kiss, which made Oliver moan into his mouth.
The two stood like that for a while, but finally, Nate's need to fuck was stronger than anything else.
"Bedroom. Now!" he growled and dragged the smaller man with him. Once there, Nate simply tossed him onto the bed and followed quickly, his cock pointing up. He positioned himself on top of the other man and kissed him again, their tongues dancing in their mouths.
When the kiss broke, Oliver was panting.
"You really are a big boy, huh?"
"Damn right I am."
"Oh god, I need your big dick inside of me!"
"Yeah? You want me to fuck you?"
"Please! I've wanted to feel your huge meat in me for days."
"Fuck yeah. You're gonna get it."
Nate reached under his bed and produced a bottle of lube, which he applied liberally to his dick.
"You're ready?"
"Do it, big guy."
Nate placed the head of his massive cock against the tight pucker and started to push. Slowly but steadily, his dick invaded Oliver's ass.
"Oooooooooh god, Nate, yesssssss!" moaned Oliver.
The pressure around Nate's dick was unbelievable. Oliver was clearly tight, and the way his asshole was massaging his dick felt heavenly.
Finally, Nate's dick was balls-deep inside Oliver. Both were breathing heavily, and Oliver was moaning incoherently. Nate gave him a moment to adjust and then started moving his hips, first slowly, but increasing his pace quickly. Soon, he was slamming into Oliver's ass as hard as he could, pulling almost completely out and then thrusting back inside the smaller man.
"Fuck yeah! You like that? You like my huge dick pounding your tight little ass?"
"God, yes, Nate, fuck me, fuck meeee!"
Nate was groaning and growling, a sound that came deep from his chest and made Oliver moan even louder.
"Oh shit, Nate, I'm so close! Don't stop, please don't stop, don't st- ooooooooh gooooooood!"
Nate felt Oliver's muscles clamp down on his dick, and that sent him over the edge. He buried his dick as deep as he could and shot a big load of cum deep into Oliver's guts.
The two of them collapsed on each other, spent but happy.
A lot had changed for Nathan in this new year. He had gotten a new body, a new job, a new identity even. But most importantly, he had found love. Nate the manly mechanic sighed. If he were to describe his feelings, looking into the future, there was only one fitting word: Confidence.
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I actually generated a ton (okay, 50) of images for this story. If you want to check out the alternate versions of the different stages of Nathan/Nate, check out my tip jar, where I posted them!
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lumiambrose · 2 months
Text
sae x reader, part three to saes launch, fluff, cringe (im sorry)
two months had passed since your kiss. The kiss that changed your life and your relationship and slowly, life had settled into a new normal. your relationship was now the subject of endless speculation and fascination, but amidst the frenzy, you and sae still had your little moments of peace. Tonight, thankfully, was one of those moments, where you found yourselves tangled together in bed, the glow of his phone illuminating your tired faces as you scrolled through tiktok.
your brains had pretty much turned off at this point, until you scrolled into a familiar face. it was an edit to isabel larosa’s ‘favorite’, starting off with the all too familiar scene of the kiss shared between you and sae. after that, a compilation of short clips of you in public or photos of you flew through the screen in smooth transitions, making you look fucking hot.
“sae… am i on your for you page?” you uttered in a half mocking tone to your boyfriend. his brows furrowed in confusion as he snatched the phone away from you, curious to see what you were spouting about.
the video played through once, twice, even a third time before he nonchalantly saved it and swiped on, “that’s stupid, you’re not even a celebrity and they’re obsessing over you like that. so tepid.”
you giggled, “well i think it’s amazing, they really went all out, huh? or are you too jealous to appreciate the skill?”
sae’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, and he averted his gaze. “it’s dumb. you’re for my eyes only, amor.”
you found his embarrassment endearing. it was a rare sight, seeing your usually composed and arrogant boyfriend blushing over something as simple as a fan edit. “i think it’s cute,” you teased, poking his side gently.
he gave you a mock glare but didn’t pull away. “let’s see what else they’ve made.”
you spent the next hour scrolling through various edits. some of you, some of sae and even some cute couple edits. some were sweet, showing candid moments of you two holding hands or sharing secret smiles. some were pure thirst, of you or him. reminding you how glad you are to have this sight of sae, topless, resting on his forearms in bed, all to yourself. others were funny, highlighting sae’s grumpiness and your attempts to deal with him. 
“this one’s my favorite,” you said, showing sae an edit where the fans had added silly captions to his stern expressions, making it seem like he was grumpy about not getting enough attention or affection from you.
sae rolled his eyes, letting out a scoff. “they have too much time on their hands.”
“maybe, but you gotta admit, that’s talent,” you replied, leaning into his chest. “and it’s kind of nice to see how much they support us.”
sae adjusted to wrap one arm around you, pulling you even closer. “guess it’s not so bad.”
just then, a notification popped up on sae’s phone, and you both looked at it. it was a message from one of his teammates, shidou, accompanied by a link to another fan edit. sae groaned, clearly uninterested in shidous antics, “even they’re in on it now.”
you laughed, taking the phone from him and clicking the link. the edit started with a clip of sae scoring a goal, followed by a dramatic slow-motion replay of him looking up at you in the stands. followed by some cringey caption about how he devotes his plays and goals to you
sae’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “i can’t believe this.”
“oh, come on,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “admit it, you love it.”
he sighed, but the small smile on his face betrayed him. “maybe a little.”
you snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “i love you, sae.”
“i love you too,” he replied, his voice soft and genuine.
“but seriously, did you save that edit of me?” you wanted to egg him on one last time tonight, which resulted in him letting out a groan before shoving your face away into your pillow.
“don’t worry, i saw nothing. good night love.”
“buenas noches, mi amor.”
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punkitt-is-here · 4 months
Note
i think finding a new resemblance to members in your family is so fun when you're transitioning. while i still look a lot like my mother i've noticed how my jaw squaring off has made me look a lot like my older brother, my hairline looks more like my father's (in shape, i'm not going bald (yet)), my laugh sounds so similar to my cousin's. there's a beauty in seeing your family in yourself. Also i think the fact i'm not a thin twink-y sort and instead get to be a pudgy, hairy, butch thing is so important. shit rocks. tl;dr your takes on learning to accept that you may not look like the Ideal of whatever gender you're transitioning to means so much and i think it rocks that you're seeing more of your family in yourself and it brings you joy. you deserve to feel joy!
yay!!!!!!!!! i know for a lot of people it can be mortifying, but for me im overjoyed that the family i love so much is reflected back at me when i look in the mirror. i used to be embarrassed about the features i got from my mom before i was trans, but now i'm prouder than ever of them. they're people who put so much love and care into me, and i get to look like them!!! makes me real happy. :>
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chervbs · 2 years
Text
you and i — s. harrington
pairings: steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 6.6k
synopsis: you’re in love with your best friend, steve. steve is in love with you. you would think it’s simple, right? well, according to steve, you would be wrong.
warnings: im shit at summaries, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of underage drinking and smoking, mentions of st*ncy, season 3 tings, nancy and robin are good friends, bit of angst, bit of fluff, canon violence, blood, injuries, mentions of vomit, cursing?, lmk if I missed any!
a/n: this fic is completely inspired by the events that lead up to my first relationship. yes, I’m completely projecting to deal with my own experiences and heartbreak, but don’t you worry, this has a much happier ending than my relationship did. also the title is from the one direction song as it was the “our song” of said relationship. pls don’t let this one flop that would be embarrassing. gif isn’t mine.
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You weren’t quite sure when you feelings for Steve Harrington transitioned from platonic to romantic. 
It seemed like one minute he was as your best friend–an unlikely one, but after all you’d seen together in the last year, your best friend nonetheless–and the next he was consuming your every waking thought. 
At first you assumed the timing couldn’t have been better, his relationship with Nancy having just ended. Until you realized just how heartbroken he was, and the fact that Nancy was also one of your best friends. How would it look for you to swoop in right after her and Steve broke up?
Eventually you realized that it clearly wouldn’t have been so bad, as Nancy had quickly moved on to a relationship with Jonathan not long after. 
Not that you judged her for it, but you didn’t understand how she could dismiss her relationship with Steve so easily, not when you were the one pining for his love and he was the one sulking and staring longingly at her and Jonathan’s intertwined hands.
It didn’t seem fair that she held his attention even after breaking his heart when she didn’t even love him like you did. 
But then his attention seemed to fall on you, most of your time being spent in each other’s presence and your bond growing even stronger during the summer of ‘84. 
So strong that you’d even began to silently suspect that maybe, just maybe, he’d began to like you back. You’d thought it was all in your head, your imagination running wild in order to cope with what you thought were unrequited feelings. But then Nancy made a comment during one of your sleepovers that you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. 
“I see the way he looks at you.” Nancy had spoken out of the blue, completely off topic from your previous conversation about this years summer reading. 
Your eyebrows furrowed as you blinked in confusion. “What?”
The brunette smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Steve. He likes you.” 
Your mouth fell open, breath hitching in your throat as you searched for something to say. “You’re crazy.” Was all you managed to scoff out, face burning and hoping that she didn’t notice how flustered you’d become by her words.
She noticed. The grin she wore softened, realizing how deeply the idea affected you. “Am I? You’re all he ever talks about. Every conversation we have have he seems to always find a way to bring you up. The two of you are always together, always touching, and like I said–I see the way he looks at you. He can’t take his eyes off you.”
You mouth became so dry you had to reach for the water bottle on Nancy’s nightstand, taking down swigs of water in an attempt to calm down your racing heart and increasing body temperature. When did Nancy’s room get so hot?
Nancy just watched you with poorly concealed amusement. “You okay?”
You screwed the plastic cap of the water bottle back on with shaky hands, chuckling nervously. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” 
She gave you a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe because you also have feelings for Steve?” You’re internally grateful you weren’t still gulping down water, because you’re sure you would have choked if you were. 
“Okay, it was a joke before but now I’m definitely questioning your sanity, Nance.” You avoided her eyes as you spoke, occupying yourself with a bottle of red nail polish, suddenly feeling like your fingers needed a pop of color. “I don’t know where you’re getting these ideas from but I can promise you they’re not true. I’m fairly certain Steve still has a thing for you. Not that it would matter because I definitely don’t have feelings for him and even if I did that would be completely breaking girl code and I would never do that to you–“
Nancy said your name, pulling your eyes away from your now red thumbnail to her face instead, taking in her comforting smile. 
“It’s okay,” You released the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Nancy sighed. “Look, I didn’t want to meddle because it honestly not my business, but it’s borderline painful how oblivious the two of you are.” She paused to take your hands into hers. “No matter what me and Steve had before, it’s nothing like what you two have now. As great as he was, I know now that I never really loved him, not like I know you do. And definitely not like he loves you.” 
You didn’t know what to say, and Nancy seemed to realize this. She squeezed your hands gently. “Just think about it, okay? And talk to Steve.”
After your talk, you couldn’t help but take notice of the things Nancy mentioned. You two did spend a lot of time together, and you realized that he did indeed always seem to have an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your lower back or his leg pressed up against yours. A few quick questions to your group of friends, who were all aware of your feelings and apparently of Steve’s as well, confirmed Nancy’s observation of him constantly talking about you. And when you stole quick glances at him from your peripherals, he was always focused on you. 
The more you sat on the thought, the more it seemed to good to be true. But between Nancy and the rest of your friends contributing to the idea, it was hard not to get your hopes up.
You really should’ve known better.
-
It took a while for you to work up the courage to talk to Steve about your feelings, but as it turns out, it would happen in a much more casual way than you’d anticipated.
“I had a really interesting conversation with Nancy the other day.” He had blurted. It was late in the night on a Friday, the two of you lounging by his pool, bodies relaxed by the combination of the soft blue light from the water and the alcohol running through your system from the couple of beers you’d consumed. 
Your head was a bit too hazy for you to realize what he could’ve been talking about, so you twisted your neck to lazily look over at him. “‘Bout what?” 
“About how we our feelings for each other.” 
For a moment you’d thought you were imagining the words. Either that or you were heaving a dream-no, a nightmare. You silently pinched your arm. Definitely still awake.
Realizing you hadn’t replied, you cleared your throat awkwardly. “Oh.”
You resisted the urge to facepalm at your answer. 
Steve’s lips lifted at the corners, gazing at you with a fondness in his eyes that you missed, your own gaze focused on the swaying pool water.  
“Yup. Told me all about how oblivious we’ve both been. Really opened my eyes.” He spoke softly. 
You’re lips rolled into your mouth, hoping Steve couldn’t hear the way your heart pounded against your rib cage. “Did it?” 
He nodded, expression becoming slightly pained as he spoke his next words. “It did. Because I realized two things after. One, that I do have feelings for you.” 
Your head slowly lifted to meet his eyes, the depth of his gaze knocking the breath out of your chest. “You do?” The slight eagerness in your tone told him well enough that you felt the same way, which both filled him with joy and with guilt.
He seemed hesitant to answer, but when he did he sounded sure. “I do.” 
You tried not to show the fear you felt on your face. “It sounds like there’s a but in there.” You forced a small laugh, hoping it sounded genuine and not as pained as it felt.
“Yeah, um…that was the second thing.” Your eyes raked over his form, his hand that wasn’t holding his bottle was trembling and you could tell that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek anxiously. “I did realize that I have feelings for you, that’s for sure. And I wish this was simple enough for that to be it, but…” His hands fell into his face, seemingly unable to spit out the words.
“Steve?” You called quietly. You waited for his eyes to meet yours. “It’s okay. Whatever you need to say, you can tell me. You know that.”
By some miracle, your words seemed to bring him enough comfort and confidence to  say what he needed to. Though, once he did, you really wished they wouldn’t have.
“But I still have feelings for Nancy too.” 
You really thought that pining after Steve and thinking he didn’t feel the same was the worst pain you’d felt. Turns out, you were very wrong. 
“Oh.” 
Steve sighed, his left hand raking through his hair, unable to meet your eyes. “I know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me. But I don’t want to start anything with you knowing that I won’t be able to give all of myself to you. Not yet. It’s not fair to you and I would never forgive myself if I put you through the same thing I went through.” 
You could only bring yourself to nod slowly,
attempting to process the information while ignoring the ache in your chest.
Steve spoke your name softly, “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
When you met his eyes, it was easy to see the guilt and the pain behind them. It brought you a little bit of comfort, knowing that he wasn’t just saying this to avoid being with you and he genuinely wanted to do what was best for both of you. 
Still, the hurt greatly outweighed the comfort.
“Yeah.” You breathed after a few seconds. “Yeah, I get it. It’s for the best.” 
You should have known better 
-
If your friends noticed anything different between you and Steve, they didn’t say anything about it. 
You’d made the conscious decision to distance yourself from Steve, for the sake of your sanity and your hearts. It wasn’t enough for a divide to have been created, but it was enough to be able to pretend like you were never in love with your best friend in the first place. 
Steve had definitely taken notice to your distance, but other than a small frown that appeared on his face, he didn’t utter a word. He knew why, you knew he knew, and he couldn’t blame you. 
Life after that got kind of crazy. Not any crazier than the Demogorgan or the alternate dimension that sat under Hawkins, but it allowed you to somewhat forget about your situation.
You and Steve both graduated during the Spring of 1985, taking jobs at the newly built Starcourt Mall that summer. He’d began working at the Scoops Ahoy, an ice cream shop, while you worked at the Merry-Go-Round just outside of the food court. They weren’t the cushiest of jobs, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy your employee discount. 
Steve seemed to be enjoying his job for the most part. Sure he had to wear a cheesy sailor costume and deal with Erica Sinclair coming in nearly every day and pestering them for enough free samples to make a regular cup of ice cream, but he did get to encounter a lot of cute girls that came in during the boiling Indiana summer heat. 
He never verbalized this perk, but by the score board made by his lovely coworker, Robin, who had come to be a great friend to you, he was very enthusiastic about his flirting. 
At first you’d felt almost betrayed by his advances towards other girls. Had the two of you not confessed you feelings to each other a year before? But then you rationalized that you had been the one to put a stop to anything that even remotely crossed the line between platonic and romantic. Maybe he’d figured you’d lost feelings for him?
Either way it was painful to watch, but also slightly satisfying whenever a pretty girl would reject him. Not that you’d ever admit it.
Robin was quick to pick up on the tension between the two of you, and you surprised yourself when you found it startlingly easy to open up to her. You suppose that the only other person you could ever really talk about your Steve problem with was Nancy, and that wasn’t necessarily an option anymore.
Nancy was none the wiser of the reason you and Steve never pursued a relationship. You didn’t want her to feel guilty for essentially being the reason why, although it was completely out of her control.
All she was told was that you had both agreed that your lives were too hectic for relationships at the moment and you’d decided that it was for the best to stay friends. 
Something told you she didn’t quite believe you, but she never pried, which you were thankful for.
Robin became a great outlet for your feelings for Steve, along with becoming one of your best friends. You were also sure to reciprocate her support which led to her heartfelt confession about her sexuality. 
For the first time in a while, you’re life seemed to be falling back into equilibrium. Steve was still your best friend, you were making a decent amount of money that would soon start going to your tuition to the community college in the fall, and there was nothing supernatural occurring in Hawkins. 
Apparently, you hadn’t learned your lesson about not getting your hopes up. 
If you had only agreed to take the bus home instead of accepting Steve’s offer for a ride, which you had to wait around for him and Robin to close at Scoops, an hour after your shift had ended, maybe you wouldn’t have ended up stranded in a Russian elevator beneath the mall. But life just never seemed to work in your favor, did it?
Honestly, you were surprised it had taken as long as it did for the five of you to get caught. After the Russian guard that Steve had–shockingly–been able to knock out recovered and alerted reinforcements, you’d all been chased throughout the base as an alarm sounded. If your circumstances weren’t already shitty enough, you’d also come face to face with yet another interdimensional gate that the Russians had opened, welcoming a new set of concerns for your group of friends you hadn’t seen in almost twenty four hours.
The guards chased you all into a room that conveniently contained an air duct in the floor that served as an escape. Steve was the last to enter, slamming the door and calling for both you and Robin to help him defend it against the group of guards that were, admittedly, much stronger than the three of you. 
Dustin and Erica were lucky enough to escape before they were able to knock down the door, and as you stared at the barrels of multiple guns, you could only hope they’d be able to find some help before it was too late. 
They’d separated you, Steve and Robin at first. You’d taken to wailing on the door as much as you could, hoping that if you annoyed them enough maybe you could get to answers as to where your friends were.
You were sure that you’d heard shouts in the distance, some sounding like Robin, some like Steve. The only difference we’re that Robins were like yours, begging for help and to be let out of your temporary prisons, but Steve’s weren’t intelligible words, only pained yells.
It only made you more persistent, and eventually your wish was granted. 
The door flew open so fast that you stumbled back, chest rising and falling in time with your quick breaths, heart pounding with fear at the sight of the Russian general that entered the room.
He was flanked by two other guards, smirking at you with malice. 
“We’ve received some noise complaints.” He joked, his words being followed by an accent. 
You scowled, “Where are my friends?” 
The man chuckled, ignoring your question and turning his head to look at the men behind him. He muttered something in Russian you couldn’t understand and suddenly the men were bounding towards you. They’d each taken a hold of your upper arms, forcing you down onto a chair that previously sat in the corner of the room and bounding your upper body to the back of it.
“I am going to ask you the same as i’ve asked your friends.” He leaned down towards you. “Who do you work for?”
Your face remained unchanged as you debated your next move. You could be honest and hope they’d believe you, though you weren’t sure that would work, so you went with your second option.
You leaned towards the man in the same manor he had, a small grin growing on your face. “Suck. My. Dick.” 
Part of you regretted your actions, but part of you was too satisfied with the anger you caused. The satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by the pain that began to spread across your face as his palm made contact with your cheek. 
The following few minutes would always be a blur, as the pain the men inflicted upon you began to mess with your senses. You didn’t know how much time had had passed, but a blow to your head was the last straw your body could take, the last thing you remember being the straps around your body loosen, and you were pulled from the chair.
-
When you’d finally came to you weren’t sure how much time had passed. You felt your body being shook before anything. Then came the sound of a screeching siren, and then you were able to pry your eyes open. 
There were two blurry figures hovering above you, and when your vision cleared, you realized it was Dustin and Erica, looking extremely concerned as they repeated your name. 
“…you okay? Y/N, can you hear me?” Dustin asked, waving his hand in front of your face. 
You squinted at the sudden intrusion of light from the room, looking around confused. “Dustin? Erica? What’s going on? What happened?” Your voice came out in a mess of mumbles as you struggled to sit up, realizing you’d been laying on the floor. 
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Erica  said, her large eyes trailing over the multiple bruises and cuts that were visible at first glance. 
There was a pause as you winced from the pounding in your head. “Um..I remember you guys leaving to get help, but not much after.” You admitted, gratefully accepting Dustin’s hand to help you stand. 
“Well, the good news is that you’re fairly caught up, meaning you’re possible concussion isn’t life threatening.” He offered, speaking hurriedly. “Think you’re good enough to run?” He asked, already halfway out the door.
With a silent nod, you followed him and Erica out the room you’d been kept it. The lead you just down the hall and it wasn’t until then that you noticed Dustin had one of the guards tasers in his hand. 
“Where did you get that?” You yelled frantically. Lord save you from Claudia Henderson should something happen to her baby. 
Dustin ignored your question and burst through another door, letting out a war cry and shoving the taser directly into the chest of the man stood in the room. 
You watched in both horror and amazement as the man shouted in pain before collapsing. The was a pause as Dustin looked back at you with an open mouth, like he was also surprised. “Never mind,” You panted, “I don’t wanna know.”
“Hey! Henderson!” Steve grinned as Dustin freed him from his restraints. “That’s crazy I was just talking about you.
“Oh, my god!” Robin laughed, kissing your cheek affectionately after you untied her. “I’m so happy to see you.”
You chuckled breathlessly, head still throbbing in pain. “Happy to see you too, Robbie, but we gotta run.” 
“Y/N…” Steve said breathily, looking at you as if you were an angel sent from above. “You’re here.”
You could tell immediately that something was wrong, but the still sounding siren reminded you of your hasty circumstances. “Hey Stevie,” You grinned. Grasping your hand with his, you began to pull him out just behind Dustin and Erica who were doing the same to a stumbling Robin. 
“Did the Russians hurt you?” Steve’s voice was slurred in a way you hadn’t heard since the last time you’d stayed at his house, smoking the weed he’d gotten from a dealer that went to Hawkins High. Some metal head who was a repeat senior. 
You glanced back, catching a glimpse of worried expression in his hazy eyes. “No, I’m fine, Steve.” You weren’t fine, not even close, but he didn’t need to know that. You doubted he’d remember anything you said once he sobered up from whatever drugs they had put into him and Robin. 
-
Steve and Robin found themselves in the movie theater restrooms, finally back above ground. You and Dustin had left Erica to keep watch of them after sticking them in a showing of Back to the Future.
They’d been able to sneak out without alerting their caretaker, but had to quickly run to the restroom after the drugs had reached their stomachs.
Steve wanted to test if the drugs had left their system along with their lunch from the day before. He asked Robin when the last time she peed her pants was. She said it was earlier with the Russians, when the doctor pulled out the bone saw. The she asked him a question.
“Have you...ever been in love?”
He feels like his first thought should have been Nancy, what with her being his first love. And yet, he couldn’t help but picture you. 
Steve realized a second later that he was silent for a bit too long. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”
“Oh, my God.” Robin rolled her eyes. “She's such a priss.” Part of her resisted the urge to mention you, because that’s who she assumed he was going to say. Unlike you, Steve had been quiet about his feelings to Robin, figuring that with how close the two of you had gotten, she’d be the first to blab about his feelings for you. And he couldn’t have that happening, especially when it had been so long since that night he broke your heart. You’d always been so closed off about your emotions, worse after that night, and he wasn’t sure you even liked him anymore. 
Who was he too assume you’d wait around for him to lose feelings for Nancy?
But Robin wasn’t dumb. Sure she had a poor grasp of socials cues, but she also had two eyes and a very clever brain. It wasn’t difficult to see the pining stares the two of you gave each other when the other wasn’t looking and put to and two together.
Steve hummed thoughtfully. “Turns out, not really.
Robin scoffed a little. If she was gonna get Steve to confess his feelings for you willingly, she was gonna have to play this smart. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”
“No.” Steve answered, honestly and without hesitation.
“Why not?”
He could see his reflection in the black seat of the toilet, his swollen eye and busted lip serving as a reminder of what they had just been through. What you had been through. Though the events before him and Robin had fled to the bathroom to puke up the contents of their stomachs were hazy, he remembers your face when Dustin broke you all free–the dark print on your face that looked almost like a hand and the blood that dried under your nose. 
“I think it's because I found someone who's a little bit better for me.” He finally managed to say. “It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, you know, you gotta find your Suzie, you gotta find your Suzie–"
“Wait, who's Suzie?” Robin asked.
Steve shrugged, “It's some girl from camp. I guess his girlfriend? To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real.” He let out a little chuckle. “But that's not...that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like…it's somebody that I didn't even talk to in school. Not until I met Nancy.” 
“And I don't even know why. Maybe 'cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or...I wouldn't be...prom king.” Steve shook his head at this own words. Everyday he regretted how he let himself act in high school. He knows that it was all for validation, compensating for what he didn’t receive as he grew up with an asshole for a father and a pushover for a mother. Still, it didn’t excuse any of his actions and not a day went by that he wished he had been better.
“It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out
with this girl the whole time. First of all, she's hilarious. She's so funny. I feel like, these couple years i’ve known her, I have laughed harder than I have laughed...in a really long time.” 
You and Steve hadn’t grown close until after his breakup with Nancy. He can remember the night you two hung out for the first time. He’d been driving around town to clear his mind not long after Eleven had closed the gate to the Upside Down and Hawkins Lab had been exposed. During this drive is when he passed by the local play ground and spotted you, swinging all by yourself on the swing set. As he parked his car and approached you, he could see your head go back for a second and when he got closer, he could see a silver flask hidden under your jacket. To say he was worried was an understatement so he silently sat next you to, asking if you were okay. 
With the alcohol fogging your better judgement, you were quick to spill your thoughts to Steve. The nightmares you’d been having, the worry you felt for those poor kids you’d been babysitting for years and how they’d be able to handle this kind of trauma, the loneliness you felt now that Nancy had found a comfort in Jonathan and you had no one. In turn, Steve shared his own worries, his own heartbreak after Nancy and the pressures he received from his parents. After that night, you were inseparable.
“And she's smart. Way smarter than me. And she’s such a badass. She always puts people in their place, including me, and she handles all the bullshit we’ve been through like it just another Tuesday for her…you know? She's honestly unlike anyone
I've ever even met before.”
Robin couldn’t keep the grin off her face. God, she couldn’t wait to tell you that Steve was still head over heels for you. 
She never knew for sure, though she had her suspicions, that he still had feelings for you. But now she did know. And if Steve didn’t say something soon, she was gonna. 
“Robin?” He called after a long pause. “Robin, did you just OD in there?”
The blonde girl sighed, attempting to rein in the giddiness. The boy her best friend was in love with just admitted his feelings for said best friend, okay? Give her a break. “No. I...am still alive.”
Steve let his curiosity win and slid his body under the stall to sit across from Robin. “The floor's disgusting.” She told him. 
“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood
and puke on my shirt,” He reminded her. “So…What do you think?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too anxious. He knew better than to think that Robin didn’t how you felt about him. She probably knew even better than Nancy, who had been your best friend for years. 
“About?” She replied coyly. 
Steve huffed. “This girl.”
Robin smirked back at him. “She sounds awesome.” By now Steve could tell she had gotten the hint. What was she messing with him for?
“She is awesome.” He agreed. “And what about the guy?”
“I think he's finally come to senses. And he needs to tell the girl how he feels because I know, for a fact, that she feels the same way.”
Steve’s face felt like it was on fire. More-so than it already did with the the fresh wounds. “Really? 'Cause I think he should too. This time without screwing up their friendship because he was too scared to get his heart broken again.” He sighed, head falling back to rest again the open door of the bathroom stall.
Robin cocked her head, asking him in a softer voice. “Is that why? Why you rejected her?”
“I didn’t–“ Steve groaned, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I didn’t want to hurt her. I knew I wasn’t completely over Nancy yet and I know what it’s like to be with someone whose heart isn’t fully yours. I couldn’t put her through that…but yeah. I guess I was also just worried the same thing would happen and I think that if it did…it would’ve been so much worse than the first time.”
Steve knew in the back of his mind that, although he had loved Nancy, it didn’t even come close to how he felt for you. His love for you was all consuming. Not a day went by that you weren’t on his mind. It’s a wonder how he never noticed you before he got with Nancy, and even then you were just his girlfriends best friend. In hindsight, he should’ve known by the way you never took shit from Tommy and Carol, and him, that you were nothing like anyone he’d met before. If he had to have gone through the same situation of you falling out of love with him like with Nancy, he doesn’t think he would’ve been able to survive that.
It was then that Robin knew. In the most vulnerable state she’d ever seen Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in. She knew there was now a bond between them that wasn’t there before the summer–hell, before even that day. She knew it was safe to make her own confession. 
“Do you remember what I said
about Click's class?”
-
The Battle of Starcourt would go on to be known as The Fire, to the general public. To you and to Steve and to your group of friends that had been there to defeat the Mindflayer, it would be a day to add to your list of traumatic, other-dimensional, bullshit that’s gonna plague you’re nightmares for the rest of your lives. 
But it was finally over. The Fire and Police departments had shown up to “rescue” all of you. They didn’t know why you’d all been the in the mall so late anyways, or what had started the fire. But there were plenty of government officials there that were aware of the dangers that occurred in Hawkins and were able to answer their questions with something believable.
After being check by paramedics, you were all driven home in police cars. You tried not to linger on the fact that none of the drivers were Hopper. You didn’t think you could take thinking about that for too long. Not yet.
Steve had insisted you and Robin stay at his. The deputy that drove you was hesitant, but after admitting that none of you wanted to be alone, he relented, dropping the three of you off at the Harrington household.  
“You can take the first shower, Robbie.” There was more than one shower in the house, but Robin didn’t argue. She didn’t need you to convince to leave the two of you alone for a bit, knowing that there were plenty of unspoken words between you that needed to be said. “I’m gonna help clean up his face a little.” 
Robin nodded silently, giving you a lingering hug that poured out the mutual appreciation you had for each other before heading upstairs.
You wordlessly pulled Steve into the guest bathroom on the first floor, grabbing the first aid kit from the cabinet and sitting yourself on the counter to be at eye level with him.
There was a silence that was only broken by the soft breathing from you can the occasional hisses of pain from Steve as you dabbed his eye with hydrogen peroxide.
“Sorry.” You whispered after a slightly too harsh wipe. The pad of your thumb ran lightly over the swollen skin, your other fingers resting over his cheek. 
Steve relaxed under your touch. He couldn’t remember the last time you two were this close. Most likely it was before that night. Before he hurt you and caused you to distance yourself. What an idiot, he thought.
“It’s okay.” He replied. Taking a chance, Steve let his hands come up, softly, almost cautiously, letting them find your hips. He could feel you stiffen, and he almost ripped his hands away, until you settled, scooting a little closer to his body. 
“Can I ask you something?” He said after a minute. The warmth of his palms had momentarily distracted you and it took a second to realize he’d said something. 
You blinked dumbly, “Yeah, go ahead.” You let out breathily, resuming your cleaning and hoping he didn’t notice how flustered his touch had made you. 
Steve could feel his heart pounding and he prayed you couldn’t feel it against his skin.
“Do you…still have feelings for me?”
You were immediately brought back to that fateful night. Really, you tried to best to forget it, but you’d never been able to succeed in that. It never left your mind, actually. How could you, when he flirted with other girls in front of you, or you felt the awkwardness when he was near Nancy and Jonathan. Nothing could make you forget the day Steve broke your heart.
“Y/N?” He whispered. 
The lump in your throat went down with a struggle. You pulled away from him slightly, occupying yourself with throwing away the bloody cotton ball you’d been using to clean his eye and soaking another one in more hydrogen peroxide. “Does it matter?” You asked, not meeting his eyes.
“Yes, of course, it matters.” He insisted, voice raising a bit. “More than anything?”
You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that left your body. “Why, Steve? Why does it matter. Why do you need to know? I thought we’d been through this already and I’m sorry but I really don’t wanna go through it again-“
“It matters because I love you!” 
Your breath hitched, wide eyes gazing back at his. Finally Steve had uttered the words you’d been longing to hear for months now, and yet you didn’t know what to say. 
“Are you sure?”
Steve didn’t know it was possible to hear your own heart shatter, but in that moment he was convinced he did. To think that he finally gathered the courage to pour his heart out, and here you were, not sure if to believe him. He did that to you. This was his own doing. 
His hands left your sides to reach your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “I’m promise you, with every fiber of my being, that i’ve never been more sure if anything in my life.” He admitted, thumb soothing the fading hand mark on your face, just as you had to go moments before.
“But Nancy–“
Steve shook his head. “There is no Nancy.” He smiled at you fondly. “Yes I was worried at first about still feeling something for her because I didn’t want to let myself be with you if I didn’t know for sure. But I know now that nothing i’ve ever felt for her compares to how much I’m in love with you.”
Unshed tears gathered in your eyes. It was overwhelming, hearing what you’d always wanted to hear and not knowing what it is that suddenly opened his eyes. 
You placed your hands atop of his, sniffling. “Where’s this coming from.”
Steve let his head hang, trying to find the right words to express how he felt. “Today. When the Russians got us and they took you from Robin and I. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.” His hands slid from your face but never strayed from your own, allowing you to intertwine your fingers with his and rest them on your lap. “Not knowing where you were or what they were doing to you. You should’ve heard me before they shot us up with whatever drugs those were. I wouldn’t stop asking about you ‘till they started beating me up.” 
The soft skin of your hands was a comfort to him and he leant his forehead up against your own. “I couldn’t stop thinking about if I was gonna see you again. If one or both of us didn’t make it out and I never would’ve gotten the chance to tell you how much I love you. All because I was too scared to confront my own feelings.”
You let go of one of his hands and ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to lift his face. After a moment of analyzing the busted and bruised skin on his face, you pressed a feather light kiss against his eye. Steve let a breath out of his body, as if that kiss lifted all the weight from his shoulders. 
“I could kill every single one of those Russians for hurting you.“ You whispered, a couple treacherous tears escaping your eyes. “I was worried about you too. I always worry about you.”
“Yeah?” 
You nodded, smiling painfully. “Yeah. Even when you’re just at home. Cause I know your parents aren’t home and I hate the thought of you in this big house all alone when I know how you feel about it. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately, I just couldn’t after….”
Steve gave you and understanding smile, guilt shining in those beautiful brown doe eyes that you adored. “I know. And I’m sorry too. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you, and in doing what I thought was best, I did just that.“
You slid your hands to the back of his neck, messing with the hairs at the nape. “How about…we forget that night ever happened? I don’t know that you love me,” Your gaze met his, sipping your chin to look at him through your lashes. “And you don’t know that I love you.” 
Steve’s face lit up as if you’d just told him he won the lottery. He knew not even that feeling would compare to what he was feeling in this moment after hearing you say those three words. 
“Okay,” He grinned. “Y/N, I don’t know if you know this or not, but I’m in love with you.”
You couldn’t contain your giggles, feeling his own breaths of laughter hit your face as you moved closer to him. 
“Oh really? Well, Steve, I didn’t know that, actually. But I think you should know, that I’m in love with you too.” 
Steve gasped like you’d said something profound and you both collapsed into laughter. “You know what I also think?” You hummed in response. “I think you should kiss me.” 
You head leaned to the side and you tapped your chin twice in consideration. “Hmm. I think that’s a great idea.”
And you also think that you could die happy, finally knowing what Steve Harrington’s lips felt like against yours.
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reorientation · 5 months
Note
i might suck off a straight boy from my class for zyns (nicotine pouches lol). i can't buy them yet but he can (i just turned 19 and hes 23). when i hit him up to buy off him, he sells for double the retail value, and triple for anything higher than 10mg. i asked if i get a classmate discount, or if i can buy one at a time. and he said no :(. i ""jokingly"" said id blow him for some, and he said the only people he'd accept that offer from are girls.
so, like a good crackwhore, I told him im actually ftm and it wouldn't be really gay. he didn't believe me until I showed him my pussy on a video call. he said he'd consider it, and responded like an hour later. lmao. he said it sounds kind of gay but if i came to his apartment looking pretty, and wearing something feminine he'd see if he felt gay about it. he went on to say he just thought i was gay since im too feminine to be a guy, but being trans makes more sense. he also asked why i transitioned when id make a really cute girl. im swooning.
the joke is that i can afford to buy the zyns at the price he listed. its inconvenient and annoying but doable. i could also keep trying my luck at local convenience stores and eventually be able to find something, probably. im not even trying to quit that hard. but likeee. not going to lie, he's hot and i was slightly horny already when i hit him up. id suck his dick for free tbh. its embarrassing that im willing to let him use my mouth for fucking nicotine pouches, and because im a perv who likes being misgendered. but ive already came twice, and post nut clarity is not kicking in, so its probably a good idea. will keep you posted.
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God, this is fucking funny. You went to such lengths to sell your virginity to a straight man - and you didn't even save any money off of it! Plan B is like 50 bucks!
Let's see, the series of events here is:
Offered to suck a straight guy off for convenience-store drugs
Had to show him your cunt just to get him to consider it
Went over "looking pretty" like a good call-girl
Intended to just blow him and instead wound up getting fucked for the first time and creampied without protection
Went home with a few nicotine pouches, a pussy full of cum, and negative net savings
A savvy consumer you are not! God, FtM girls will take any excuse to slut themselves out.
but ive already came twice, and post nut clarity is not kicking in, so its probably a good idea.
That's the thing: actual men have refractory periods. You can only make sperm so fast, and there's not much biological point in putting another load in a girl when there's a few hundred million fresh sperm already on target. Girls who've pumped themselves full of testosterone don't get that! You can just keep rubbing yourself dumb, convincing yourself that being a stupid whore is a brilliant idea. Just another one of the dangers of trying on hormones that you weren't built for.
Still, this was very funny. Hope you enjoyed the walk of shame home from your extremely-lame-drug dealer's place, and congratulations on the start of a long career of taking cum.
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