#i just keep thinking about this interaction
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machveil · 1 day ago
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I can't resist the siren call
Roommate!Simon Riley that low-key enjoys fucking with your friends Y/N
subtle foreshadowing
 I suppose I can dip into my nsfw Roommate!Simon Riley thoughts
Roommate!Simon Riley who shares a laundry bin with you, it had been agreed a long time ago that just doing a big load would be easier. you takes turns, knowingly stealing each other’s clothes every couple days when the laundry is fresh out the machine. you know Simon took an oversized t-shirt you owned, but that’s okay, you took his favorite gym hoodie
Roommate!Simon Riley who doesn’t get embarrassed about his underwear being in the bin with yours, it’s all going in the machine anyways. that doesn’t stop him from raising an eyebrow though when his favorite boxers go missing. he was sure he put them in with the dirties, well, the cleans now. he figures the machine ate it, or maybe they’ll show up some day by chance - he shrugs it off and separates his clothes from yours, snagging one of your oversized sweaters to lounge in later
Roommate!Simon Riley who freezes when he sees you on the couch that night. eyes wide and jaw slack, he can’t bring himself to move. sat watching something on the tv - he can’t be bothered to acknowledge whats playing - he stares at you, wearing his boxers as shorts. “Hey, come watch this— I’ll catch you up since it just started. I’m not pausing it though so you better pay attention.”, your words are all in one ear and out the other. suddenly his legs are moving on their own, stopping in front of you. he doesn’t register what you’re saying, telling him to move because you can’t see the tv, but then he speaks
Roommate!Simon Riley whose voice is deliciously deep, a little raspy from how his throat suddenly feels dry, “S’that mine?”, he asks, eyeing his boxers. he’s never had such a hard time swallowing before, heartbeat erratic as you casually respond, “Huh— oh, yeah. They’re really comfy, the fabrics nice.”. fabrics nice, yeah, he knows. “You— ya know those are boxers, right love?”, he asks, hands twitchy as you reply, “Mhm, just borrowin’ them.”
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CW: guilty wank, man is hopeless [kisses his cheek]
Roommate!Simon Riley who’s a mess after that interaction. you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but he’s losing it on the inside. he’s seen you be audacious with stealing his clothes before, taking his loose-fit tank tops that left little to the imagination on you, stealing clothes you knew he favored and parading around in them, but his boxers? that had him stalking back to his room, quick to turn on his heel before you could see his pants tent
he’s sweating, closes the door to his room a little harder than he meant to. god, he wants to go back out there and see you again, get an eyeful of how comfortable you looked - wearing his boxers like they were yours. you wouldn’t know, and he can’t help but think about it, but you had stolen his favorite pair. they’re plain, a simple black pair, something he bought at the store because he needed new underwear. but when you wear them? they suddenly looked different, makes his heart hammer against his chest. it feels like he walked out into the living room and you wearing lingerie, not something he got for fifteen pounds
he feels a little guilty, shoving his jeans down his thighs as he sits down on his bed. you’re home, sat in the living room just down the hall, and here’s Simon fishing his leaky cock out of his underwear. he really shouldn’t, he should sneak into the bathroom for a cold shower, think about war and blood and bullets to get his boner down. but he isn’t, he’s spitting into his palm and groaning, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth - he’s never been good about keeping quiet. it’s not his fault you were out there wearing his clothes, you were the one that decided to look so— so cozy and content in your makeshift shorts. domestic
when that word settles at the forefront of his brain Simon’s hips jerk, you looked domestic, wanting to watch some show with him. his leg jolts slightly, hand moving to shallowly pump his weeping head. maybe your friends are right, Simon does take care of you - could bend you over and make you sob his name - he’s basically your boyfriend, often mistaken for your husband. his thighs tense when he imagines a ring on your finger— no, his dog tags hanging from your neck— god, holding you at night as an actual couple—
he’s choking out a moan, muffled and hoarse, as he coats his hand. eyes fluttering shut and breathing heavily, all his thoughts fly out the window as his cum drips down his fingers - all his thoughts except for one. he’s going to have to go back out there later to eat dinner with you, and oh, fuck, he sucks in a deep breath as he chubs up again
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keira-incognita · 20 hours ago
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People keep saying this, but it’s just not really accurate. Tumblr does have an algorithm, it’s just not the default view, and it kind of works just as described above.
It’s the “For You” tab, and it’s where I saw this post. It is very good at showing you posts that are similar to ones you reblogged and even liked. Yes, likes actually do something on here. And I’ve witnessed the For You tab, on many occasions, show me a post that I spend some time reading and/or like and then immediately show me 20 more posts like it. Usually cat videos.
The big difference is, it rarely ever shows me posts that are negative about a topic I like. For example, if I interact with a lot of transgender posts, it doesn’t then show me posts from transphobes & TERFs, unlike some other platforms. (*cough* Threads *cough*)
So yeah. There’s definitely an algorithm. It just actually works better than most, and I don’t think a lot of people realize it’s there.
"Why are you still on tumblr, it's a dead site" Tumblr is the ONLY site that still works in the way of -Follow this person, see their posts- instead of -you stopped scrolling and stayed on this post for .2 seconds longer than others, here's 100 more posts like it- I hate algorithms. Tumblr has its many issues. But at least I keep my choice of what I see.
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serial-unaliver · 2 days ago
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having emotional intelligence formed through cognitive empathy rather than emotional has me learning every day things I do that I think are positive are considered manipulative in relationships by others. except i'm not trying to hurt anyone. i'm just balancing what appeals to me (cognitive empathy) with what appeals to most other people (cognitive and emotional empathy) to try and create a mutually beneficial interaction. I don't particularly upset anyone outside family other than therapists because they think I resist treatment or don't care to improve my behavior, but the "ideal" behavior is leaning towards the kind of behavior that had kids physically shoving and throwing me in elementary school. I would rather people see me as somewhat callous than the human version of a punching bag--no matter how many times you beat it, you know it'll keep letting you and never say a word about it.
isn't it interesting certain mindsets and behaviors are problematic in psychiatry but don't cause distress in actual relationships? it's as if anything but subservience is considered antisocial.
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misaerabl · 3 days ago
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Off The Ice
HOCKEY PLAYER ABBY X JOURNALIST READER 
MINORS and MEN DNI / Word count: 9.9k words 
SUMMARY: You were tasked with covering your university’s women’s hockey team, you see it as your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming the next chief editor. Your main focus is Abby Anderson, the team’s star forward known for her cold, distant reputation. After observing her a few times, you’re surprised when she starts to warm up to you—unveiling a side of her no one else seems to see.
WARNINGS: scissoring, eating out, fingering (both a and r receiving and giving). I would say this is kind of a fluff with smut TT.
A/N: this is my early Christmas present tee hee.. I went on a bit of a whim writing this
  SMUT WITH PLOT or PLOT WITH SMUT WTV (please let me know if I miss any warnings!)
 ⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
The newsroom is buzzing with the usual chaos of deadlines and last-minute assignments. You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through your laptop when your editor, Dina, stands by the door, holding a clipboard with the next round of assignments.
“Alright, people, we’ve got some big matches coming up,” she says, her eyes scanning the room. “I need someone to cover the women’s hockey team. We’ve got scouts coming to the next game, so make sure it’s more than just a game recap. I want a real story, got it?”
You glance up, the opportunity immediately catching your attention. The women’s team has been making waves lately, and Abby Anderson, the star forward, has been all anyone’s talking about. Known for her ruthless play and icy demeanor, she’s a force on the ice but practically a ghost off it. No one has really gotten the chance to uncover what makes her tick.
“I’ll do it,” you say, raising your hand before anyone else can speak up.
Dina looks at you, surprised. “You sure? It’s a tough one. A lot of pressure to get a unique angle.”
“I think I’ve got a good angle,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I want to write about the team, but also about her. There’s more to Abby than just her game stats.”
Dina raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But make it count.”
As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. This could be your shot at making your mark—and maybe even getting that chief editor position. You grab your notebook, already mentally outlining your approach. The real challenge, though, won’t be writing the story—it’ll be getting past Abby’s walls.
⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
A few weeks later, you're sitting in the stands of the rink, notebook in hand, watching the women’s hockey team practice. The cold air cuts through the arena, but you're too focused on your task to notice.
Abby Anderson moves like a storm on the ice. Her swift, powerful strides cut through the rink with precision, her eyes locked on the puck, her focus unbreakable. She’s the kind of player who makes it look easy, but you know there’s more to it than that.
You’ve been attending practices for days now, trying to catch glimpses of Abby when she’s not in game mode. But so far, she’s kept her distance. She’s all business, all the time, barking orders at her teammates and keeping her interactions brief. If anyone speaks to her off the ice, it's either short and to the point or completely ignored. You’ve yet to get more than a few sentences out of her.
You jot down a few notes, trying to focus on the team’s dynamics, but your eyes keep drifting back to Abby. She's skating alone now, practicing shots at the net, her intense movements betraying any hint of vulnerability. You wonder if she ever lets anyone see that side of her—the one that's not all about hockey, about being the best.
“Hey.”
You jump, startled, and look up to find Abby standing next to the railing, her skates still on, but her posture relaxed. She looks at you with an unreadable expression.
“Uh, hey,” you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. "Just—just taking some notes. You know, for the article."
She nods, glancing at the rink before looking back at you. “How’s it going so far? Got a good story yet?”
You hesitate, unsure how much of the truth to reveal. “I’m still working on it. It’s hard to find the angle everyone’s expecting
 but I think I’ll get there.”
Abby studies you for a moment, her face still as hard to read as always. “Just don’t make me sound like a robot on the ice. I know how that goes.” She smirks, her first real hint of a smile.
You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “I’ll do my best to capture the whole picture. Not just the stats.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Good. Keep it real.”
With that, she turns and heads back to the ice, leaving you standing there, heart racing slightly faster than usual. You watch her skate off, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had before. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to get past her walls.
But you also know it’s just the beginning. There's more to Abby Anderson than the game, and you’re determined to find it.
⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
A few days later, you’re standing in front of Abby’s dorm, the familiar nerves creeping in. The article deadline is approaching fast, and you’re still struggling to break past Abby’s walls. But today is different. After days of awkward exchanges and hesitant small talk after practice, you finally managed to convince her to sit down for a real interview.
You took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and heard the faint shuffle of movement from inside. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Abby in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in her signature braid. The intense, icy exterior you were used to wasn’t there—she looked... normal, like a regular college student.
"Hey," she said, offering a small, almost reluctant smile. "Come on in."
You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the room instantly contrast with the chilly vibe Abby often projected. The space was clean but a bit cluttered, with hockey gear tossed on one side and textbooks scattered on her desk. It felt strangely intimate like you were seeing a side of Abby no one else ever had access to.
"Sorry about the mess," Abby muttered, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I’m usually just too tired after practice to clean."
"No worries," you said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of interviews."
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, instead grabbing two water bottles from a shelf and tossing one to you. "Let’s just get this over with," she said, her tone a little more playful than usual. It was as if the pressure from earlier had eased just a bit.
You smiled, grateful for her willingness. "I won’t take too much of your time. Just a few questions about... well, everything. Hockey, life. What it’s really like being Abby Anderson, off the ice."
She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she considered your question. "What it's really like..." she echoed, her gaze briefly flicking to the window as if pondering the words. "You make it sound like I'm some mystery."
"Maybe you are," you said, more candidly than you expected. "No one really knows you beyond the ice. You're always the tough player who doesn't talk to anyone off the rink." 
Abby’s gaze softened at your words, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fiddled with the water bottle in her hands, turning it absently as she seemed to think about what to say. There was a quiet tension in the air, one that neither of you had expected when you first agreed to sit down.
"Yeah, I guess I come off like that, huh?" Abby finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice had a quiet edge to it, almost as if she was admitting something she hadn’t said out loud before. "I don’t really know how to be any different. It’s easier this way."
You felt a shift in the atmosphere, like she was allowing herself to be more open than she ever had before. The moment was subtle, but you couldn’t ignore it.
"I get that," you said softly, leaning forward. "But you’re more than just a hockey player, Abby. I mean, you’ve got layers—there’s got to be more to you than what we see on the ice."
Abby’s eyes met yours then, the intensity of her gaze making your heart skip a beat. For a brief second, you thought she might brush you off again, but instead, she looked almost
 vulnerable.
"You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was testing you, seeing if you’d take her seriously.
You nodded, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t expected to feel. "Yeah, I do."
A moment of silence stretched between you, and you could feel the energy in the room shift. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Abby’s eyes lingered on yours, her lips pressing together as if fighting back something unspoken. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was as if the ice around her was finally starting to melt, and in the stillness of her dorm, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
"I don’t usually do this," Abby said, her voice a little breathless. "Let people in, I mean."
The admission hung in the air, and you realized how rare this moment was for her. It was raw, real, and far from the icy persona she’d shown everyone else. There was no game face now, no walls.
"You don’t have to let anyone in," you replied, your voice lower now, almost without thinking. "But I’m not like everyone else, Abby."
She took a step closer, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Then, without another word, Abby’s hand reached out, brushing against yours—light at first, like she was testing the waters. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart raced as the proximity between you grew more charged, more electric.
"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure, but her eyes steady as she closed the space between you.
Before you could respond, Abby leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent. You could feel the toned, muscular strength in her arms as she held you, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The warmth of her body radiated against yours, the firmness of her form pressing gently but surely as her fingers slid into your hair. It was as if her whole presence surrounded you—strong, sure, yet still carrying a touch of hesitation.
The kiss deepened as Abby caressed your hair gently, her fingers threading through it with a tenderness that belied her fierce persona on the ice. It was a contrast—the hard, determined athlete and the softness of the way she touched you. The moment felt like a contradiction, one that both of you were willing to embrace.
When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She looked at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Her hand remained in your hair, fingers still grazing your scalp.
Abby’s hand lingered in your hair, her touch soft but steady, as though she needed a moment to ground herself. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, eyes still locked on yours, as if searching for something—answers, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.
"That was..." Abby’s voice trailed off, her lips curling into a small, uncertain smile. "I didn’t think you’d be... like that."
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the kiss. "Like what?"
Abby shrugged, a little bashful for the first time since you met her. "I don’t know. I guess I just figured you’d be... different."
"Different how?" you asked, your voice quieter now, but there was a playful edge to it.
"Like... not so—" She gestured vaguely between the two of you, looking for the right words. "I don’t know. You’re not what I expected."
It was your turn to feel a little bashful. You didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift in dynamics, but there was something about Abby’s vulnerability, her uncertainty, that made you feel like maybe this—whatever this was—wasn’t just some random kiss. It felt more like a beginning.
"Maybe I’m not," you replied softly. "Maybe we’re both surprising each other."
Abby’s eyes softened at that, and she gave a slow nod. She seemed to be processing everything in silence, unsure of how to label the moment. She was still the tough, intense player on the ice, but the cracks in that persona were becoming more apparent now.
"Don’t go thinking this means I’m some open book now," Abby warned with a smirk, though there was no real bite to it. "I’m still the same Abby Anderson."
You laughed lightly, the tension easing between you two. "I never thought you were an open book."
"Good," Abby replied, her smile returning, warmer than before. She finally pulled her hand from your hair, though she kept her gaze locked on you, her lips still lingering with a hint of the kiss you’d just shared. "But maybe... just maybe... we can see where this goes."
You nodded slowly, your heart still racing, but your chest felt lighter, freer as if a new chapter was just beginning to unfold. "I’m willing to find out."
The quiet between you lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Abby’s eyes softened, and for the first time, she didn’t seem like the intimidating hockey player. She was just Abby, standing in front of you, her vulnerability laid bare.
"Maybe we don’t need to talk about the article anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost like she was thinking out loud. "Maybe we can just... be here for a bit."
Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could respond, Abby was standing up, closing the space between you. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. She was no longer the distant athlete; she was someone who wanted more than just the interview.
"You make it hard to stay guarded," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slid to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Her body was strong, and solid, but there was a softness in the way she touched you, a tenderness you hadn’t expected.
You swallowed, your pulse racing as you met her eyes. "Abby..." You couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t need to. The air between you both was thick with the weight of what was about to happen.
Abby’s lips found yours again, more urgent this time, less like a question and more like an answer. She kissed you deeply, her hands threading into your hair as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours with a heat that made everything else fade away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as though she was savoring the moment. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, like she was afraid to let you go as if the distance between you both had only made her want you more.
You melted into her embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as if you could close the gap that had always been there between you. She groaned softly, the sound low in her throat, sending a thrill through you.
When the kiss finally broke, Abby’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing across your cheeks as if memorizing the feel of you.
"I’ve been wanting this," she admitted, her voice hushed. "More than I thought I would."
You smiled, still feeling the rush of the moment. "Yeah," you whispered back. "Me too."
Abby’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "This doesn’t change anything, right?" she asked, her voice a little uncertain. 
You gently cupped her face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of her jaw as if to reassure her. "No," you said softly. "But maybe we can figure out what comes next..."
Her lips curled into a smile, and for the first time, it wasn’t guarded. It was real, and it was for you. "Yeah," she whispered, closing the distance again, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was ready to define just yet, but both of you were willing to explore.
And as the kiss deepened, you realized that no matter what happened after this, you had stepped past the barrier that had once kept you both apart. Whatever came next, it was something neither of you were willing to walk away from

She pushes you down on the couch, her body hovering above you. She stares deeply into your eyes as if she was asking for permission. You nod in response. 
Abby buries her face in your neck, kissing and nipping it, making you moan in response 
Abby's touch is confident and assertive, her hands roaming your body with an intensity that mirrors her personality on the ice. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take it. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touch.
Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips trailing along your sides, feeling the soft skin beneath. You gasped at the touch, your hips bucking slightly. Abby took advantage of this, her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.
She broke away from your lips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "Can I... can we...?" She nuzzled her nose against your jaw, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Can I take this off?”
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and she reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head.
As your shirt hit the floor, Abby's eyes roamed over your bare chest, taking in every detail. She reached out, tracing a finger over your collarbone, down your sternum, and across your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.
Her touch was light, reverent, as if she was worshipping your body. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and leaned down to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your chest.
You hissed in a breath at the warmth of her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair. She continued to place kisses all over your chest, her hands roaming over your curves. She paused at the waistband of your skirt, looking up at you for confirmation.
Seeing your nod, she hooked her fingers under the hem, pulling it up and off. She took a moment to appreciate what was revealed - your smooth legs, the curve of your hips, the lacy underwear that matched your bra.
Abby's hands slid up your legs, her touch leaving a path of tingling heat. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of your underwear, her eyes locked with yours. "Can I...?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, full of need and uncertainty.
“Go ahead abby
” 
With a nod and a shy smile, Abby slowly slid your underwear off, tossing it aside. She paused, her eyes taking in every inch of you, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.
She heard you suck in a breath above her, and she looked up at you with a mischievous grin. Slowly, she leaned in, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as she pressed her mouth to you, her tongue parting your folds.
She started slowly, exploring you, learning what you liked. Your moans filled the room, encouraging her. She slipped a finger inside you, her mouth continuing its administration. You let out a low moan, your hands fisting the couch cushion as you tried to keep yourself grounded.
She added another finger, stretching you, preparing you. Your moans grew louder, your hips moving in rhythm with her actions. Abby looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at your beauty. She withdrew her fingers and climbed up your body, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.
You could taste yourself on her, the evidence of her ministrations. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. "Abby..." you whispered, your voice shaky,
"Mmm?" She murmured against your lips, grinding against you. She was still fully clothed, her pants rough against your bare skin.
"You're still dressed..." You panted, your hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She grinned and sat up, pulling her shirt off in a swift motion. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.
Her breasts bounced free, and you reached up to grasp them, squeezing and kneading them in your hands. Abby let out a pleased moan, her hands reaching for the button of her pants. She popped it open and slid the zipper down, shoving her pants and underwear down her legs.
Now Abby was completely naked, sitting astride you. You looked at her, taking in her toned stomach, her full breasts, the curve of her hips, her muscular thighs. She saw the awe in your eyes, and it made her feel powerful.
With a predatory grin, Abby lowered herself onto you. She wrapped her legs around yours, crossing her ankles behind your knees. She slowly rocked against you, her wetness rubbing against yours. You gasped at the new sensation, your hands gripping her thighs as she continued to move against you.
She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against yours as she captured your mouth in a deep kiss. She sped up her pace, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. She reached one hand down between them, her fingers finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in time with her movements.
You cried out into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet hers. The sensation of her rubbing against you, combined with her fingers on your clit, was too much. You felt your orgasm building, your vision blurring as Abby continued to grind against you.
"Abby... Ab... I'm... I'm..." You stuttered, your words cut off by a moan as she quickened her pace. She felt you convulse against her, your hands clutching at her back, your face buried in her neck.
She smiled to herself, pleased with the effect she was having on you. She kept scissoring against you, her own orgasm building. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're so
 perfect.”
As she spoke, she felt her own climax approaching. She increased the pressure between her legs, rubbing herself against you with frantic intensity. With a loud cry, she came, her hips jerking against yours as her orgasm overtook her.
She collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck. You ran your fingers up and down her back, feeling the dampness of her sweat. "Abby... that was..." you started, but words failed you. She just chuckled and nuzzled your neck. "I know,”
She stayed on top of you, her arms wrapped around you in a loose hug. Her fingers traced patterns on your stomach as she nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Can we just
”
"...Stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She nuzzled your neck again, her body pressing closer against yours. She felt content, happier than she had in a long time. She felt a connection with you, a bond forged in the heat of passion.
You nodded, not wanting to break the moment. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both lay there in silence. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets.
⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
The next day came faster than you expected. You’d barely gotten any sleep, your mind constantly replaying everything that had happened after. But as you sat in the cafĂ© near the university, waiting for Abby, your heart settled into something more focused. Today wasn’t about the sparks from the night before. Today was about the interview.
The café was quiet, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the hum of conversation and the clink of cups and saucers. It was cozy, with warm light spilling from overhead lamps, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your mind, not just about Abby, but about the article and what this interview could mean for your future with the paper. If you did this right, if you got Abby to open up like she never had before, you might be able to prove yourself worthy of the next chief editor position.
A few moments later, the door to the café opened, and there she was.
Abby stepped inside, her usual confidence radiating from her as she scanned the room, her eyes locking onto you instantly. She was dressed casually—athletic but comfortable—and yet she carried herself with the same quiet intensity that made her a standout on the ice. Her gaze softened when she saw you, and the familiar spark of something more was there again, just beneath the surface.
She walked over to the table, giving you a small but genuine smile. "Hey," she greeted, taking a seat across from you. "You doing okay?"
You nodded, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah. Just a little nervous."
"Don't be," she said, her voice reassuring. "It’s just coffee, right?"
"Yeah. Just coffee," you echoed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you know... a little more than that, too. A real interview."
Abby chuckled, glancing around the café. "Right, well, let's make it count then."
You both ordered your drinks and for a moment, there was an easy silence between you. The pressure of the moment, of what had passed between you both, seemed to be melting away, replaced by something more comfortable, natural.
Finally, you picked up your notebook and pen, getting down to business. "Alright," you began, your voice steady but a little softer than usual. "Let’s start with hockey. You’ve been the team’s top scorer for a while now. How does it feel to be in the spotlight like that?"
Abby leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on you. "It’s... a lot of pressure. But it’s part of the job. Being in the spotlight is something you just get used to. Especially when your team depends on you."
There was a confidence in her tone, but also something more—something that suggested the weight of being the best wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. You could sense the layers beneath her tough exterior, and you knew this was where the real interview would begin.
You pushed forward, asking more questions, and letting the conversation flow. As you spoke, Abby opened up more than you expected, revealing not just her thoughts on hockey, but glimpses of who she was outside the rink. She was driven, and focused, but there was a vulnerability to her that only seemed to surface when she talked about her team, her passions, and the sacrifices she’d made to get where she was.
The interview wasn’t just about facts anymore—it was about connection. And for a moment, you forgot about the article entirely.
After a while, Abby leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours, and you could feel the shift again. There was a quiet tension hanging between you both as if the world outside the café had faded away, and only the two of you existed in this small, intimate moment.
"You know," Abby said softly, her voice almost playful now, "you asked a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me anything about you. What made you want to write about me? About hockey?"
You blinked, taken off guard by her question. You hadn’t expected her to turn the tables. "I... guess I thought you were an interesting story. I mean, you’re kind of a mystery to everyone. The tough hockey player. The star who doesn’t talk to anyone off the ice."
Abby’s smile was small, but it felt meaningful. "I’m not really a mystery. Just... focused. You get that, right?"
You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah, I get it."
For a long moment, you both just sat there, the sound of the cafĂ© filling the silence between you. The interview was far from over, but something had changed. It wasn’t just about the article anymore. It was about something else—something you both hadn’t been ready to acknowledge yet, but it was there, lingering in the air between you.
"You know," you said after a beat, "I think this might be one of the best interviews I’ve done."
Abby’s gaze softened. "Glad I could make it interesting," she said, her voice quiet but warm.
And as you sat there, talking about everything and nothing, you realized that what had started as a simple interview had turned into something else entirely. A new chapter, one you weren’t sure how to write, but were willing to explore.
 ⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
The final game of the season was just days away, and the energy around campus was electric. You could feel the anticipation building with every passing hour. The women’s hockey team had worked tirelessly all season, and now, the championship was within reach. For Abby and the rest of the team, it was the culmination of all their hard work. For you, it was the final stretch to prove you could handle the pressure of being the next chief editor of the school paper.
You’d passed the draft of your interview to Dina, the current editor-in-chief, and she had loved it. The words flowed smoothly, and she could sense the connection between you and Abby without you having to spell it out. That feedback had given you the confidence to continue pushing forward, not just for the article, but for everything you had on the line.
But the days leading up to the final game felt like a whirlwind. You and Abby were both consumed with your responsibilities—her with the team’s last-minute practices and preparation, you with your final edits and deadlines. It wasn’t the ideal time for the two of you to reconnect, but you knew that after the game, everything would settle, and maybe you could find out what this—whatever it was—meant.
You found yourself in the quiet corner of the student lounge, typing away on your laptop, trying to finish your article before the big game. Your mind kept wandering back to Abby, though—how her smile lingered after the interview, how she’d looked at you across the cafĂ© that day, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t.
You hadn’t had time to talk since that day, and now, with the pressure mounting on both sides, you weren’t sure when you’d get the chance to sit down with her again.
The door to the lounge opened, and you didn’t look up right away, assuming it was just another student coming in for a late-night study session. But then, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.
"Hey, you."
You froze, the sound of Abby’s voice sending a familiar rush through your chest. When you looked up, you found her standing there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. She looked exhausted, but there was a spark in her eyes.
"Abby?" you asked, surprised but a little relieved to see her. You hadn’t expected her to stop by.
"Yeah," she said with a small grin, taking a step closer. "I, uh, figured we should talk before the big day. We’ve both been too busy, haven’t we?"
You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. "Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve barely had time to breathe with everything going on."
"I get that," she said, her eyes softening. "But I wanted to check in with you. How’s the article coming along? You’re going to be on top of the world when they publish it, you know that, right?"
A warmth spread through you at her words. "It’s... going well," you said, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. "I think Dina liked the draft. She said it’s one of the best interviews she’s read in a while."
Abby raised an eyebrow, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "I’m glad to hear that." She leaned against the table, her tone turning more playful. "But you better not make me look too good. I don’t want to get all cocky before the game."
You laughed softly, the familiar spark between you two returning. "I think I can keep it balanced."
Abby’s smile faded just slightly as she looked at you more seriously. "Listen, about... what happened before. I know we’ve both been busy, but I just wanted to say... I don’t regret it. Us, I mean." She paused, her gaze softening. "I guess I’m just trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t want to run from it, either."
Your heart skipped a beat, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. "Me neither," you said quietly. "I don’t know what this is, but I’m willing to see where it goes. After the game, maybe we can talk more."
Abby nodded, a small, genuine smile returning to her face. "Yeah. We’ll figure it out." She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at you. "I should go, get some rest. Big game tomorrow, right?"
You nodded, feeling that familiar pang of disappointment that she had to leave so soon. "Yeah. Good luck, Abby."
She paused at the door, turning back to face you. "Thanks. And... I’ll see you there," she said with a wink before she disappeared into the night.
As you sat back in your chair, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything—despite the pressure of the article, the looming championship game, and the uncertainty about what you and Abby were becoming—you couldn’t deny the excitement buzzing in your chest. Tomorrow was the big day, and whatever came after, you knew you’d both be ready.
The final game had arrived, and the energy around campus was palpable. The buzz in the air was electric, with every student and faculty member talking about the championship match. You could feel the weight of the moment—this wasn’t just any game. For Abby and the team, it was the culmination of months of grueling practice, sacrifices, and determination. And for you, it was the finish line for your article—and maybe something more.
You had finalized your piece, and after getting Dina’s approval earlier that morning, there was nothing left to do but wait for the game to unfold. But as you stood at the rink, the sense of anticipation made it hard to focus on anything else. You watched as the team prepared, Abby at the forefront, looking every bit the fierce competitor you had come to admire.
Her movements were fluid, and powerful, slicing through the ice like she owned it. You found yourself drawn to her, to the way she held herself—confidence in every stride, but you could also sense something else, something beneath the surface. And though you tried to concentrate on taking notes for the article, every so often, you’d glance at her, catching her eye.
You were almost caught up in the rhythm of the game when the buzzer sounded, signaling the start. The intensity was immediate, the tension tangible in the arena. The crowd’s roars filled your ears, the game beginning in a blur of motion. You scribbled down observations, the action on the ice more chaotic than you had anticipated. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the game itself. Every move felt crucial, and Abby was right in the middle of it all, controlling the pace with every turn.
But it wasn’t just the game that had your attention. It was the way Abby played—how she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy contagious, urging her teammates forward. She was the center of it all, and you couldn’t help but admire how she took charge, and how her presence seemed to push the team toward victory. She was sharp, a calculated force on the ice.
And then it happened.
Abby made an interception, gliding effortlessly past the defense. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, the entire arena holding its breath as she lined up for a shot. Her eyes focused, and in one smooth motion, the puck flew off her stick and toward the net. The sound of the puck hitting the post rang out, but Abby wasn’t done. She was already there, crashing the net, securing the rebound, and slamming it in. The crowd erupted.
Your heart raced, the realization dawning on you that her goal had put them ahead—and it was the winning goal.
The game continued, but the tide had turned. With seconds on the clock, the buzzer sounded, and Abby’s team celebrated their victory. You stood in the middle of the crowd, still processing the intensity of it all. Abby had led them to victory, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her.
You waited near the locker room, hoping to catch Abby after the game. You hadn’t been able to keep up with the excitement of the game completely, but you had seen enough to know this was her moment. The sound of the locker room doors opening echoed in your ears, and you spotted her almost immediately.
Abby stood out from the others, her usual focused demeanor softened by the thrill of the win. She was still in her gear, her face flushed from the game, but there was a lightness about her that hadn’t been there before.
"That was incredible," you said, your words a little breathless from the adrenaline of the game still coursing through you.
She looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was a team effort," she replied, but you could see the pride in her eyes. "Still, I’m glad you were here to see it."
You smiled, taking a step closer. "You’ve earned it," you said quietly, meeting her gaze, trying to find the right words. "I’m proud of you."
Abby’s expression softened, her usual confident exterior cracking just a little. She leaned in slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "Thanks," she said, voice lower than before. There was a moment of silence between you two, the noise of the locker room buzzing faintly in the background.
For a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Abby’s eyes never left yours, a quiet understanding passing between you. There was no need for words, not now. The game, the season, the article—it all seemed to fade as you stood there, caught between the rush of the moment and the realization that this wasn’t just about hockey anymore.
As the team continued their celebration around you, Abby’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle connection that sent a jolt through you. She gave you a small nod before walking toward the rest of her team, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the game—and from everything that was unfolding between you and her.
⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
he newsroom was alive with a flurry of activity, papers scattered everywhere as the final touches were being put on the issue. The clock ticked toward 8 PM, and you were sitting at your desk, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The article was done. Your piece on Abby, her journey to the championship, and the thrilling game had come together perfectly. The highlight of the issue, the one everyone was talking about. It felt like the culmination of everything—your hard work, your ambition, and the connection you had built with Abby.
As the editors rushed past, congratulating you on how well the article turned out, you couldn't help but smile. A few of them had asked you how you’d managed to make Abby open up, some even teasing you about her sudden warmth toward you. "Did you sweet-talk her?" one of the writers joked. "She’s been ice-cold with everyone else!" You just shrugged, your mind drifting to her last words to you after the game. "Just doing my job."
But as the energy in the newsroom built to a crescendo, Dina appeared in front of you, leaning in with a grin. "I think you just earned the spot as the next editor in chief," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the buzz of the room.
Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. "Wait, what?" you asked, feeling a flush of disbelief and excitement rise in your chest.
Dina chuckled softly. "You’ve earned it. You’ve got the article everyone’s been talking about, and you’ve proven you’ve got the skills. I’m officially putting your name in for the position." Her eyes twinkled with approval as she walked off, leaving you stunned, your breath caught in your throat. This was it. This was everything you’d worked for.
As the evening wore on, the final issue of the paper was ready to go to print, and it was only a matter of time before it would be released at midnight. You stayed in the newsroom, helping with last-minute preparations, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby. What she’d said, what she meant to you now, and how the chemistry between you had grown in such a short time.
In the midst of the excitement, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The message on your screen made your heart race.
Abby 🏒: Hey, where are you? 
Abby 🏒: I’m still at the party btw
Abby 🏒: I want to see you.
You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as you typed your response, the warmth from her text a stark contrast to the cool air in the newsroom.
You: I’m at the paper, finishing things up. I’ll be there soon❀
You felt a little giddy, your heart racing with anticipation. After everything, the article, the win, the promotion—it felt like the perfect moment to see her again, to see where everything between you would go.
As the clock ticked toward midnight, you closed your laptop, the rush of excitement bubbling up inside you. The paper would be published, and your future as editor-in-chief seemed all but certain. But as you left the newsroom, your mind was on Abby—and the night ahead.
As you turned the corner, the soft hum of the campus night air accompanied your steps. The excitement of the newsroom buzzed in your veins, but everything seemed to quiet when you saw her waiting for you.
Abby was leaning casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited, the blue jersey she wore a bold contrast against the dimly lit hallway. It was the same one her teammates all wore, emblazoned with your university’s logoïżœïżœïżœproud and unmistakable. But even in something as simple as a jersey, there was still that undeniable pull to her presence.
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked toward her. "You didn’t have to wait for me," you teased softly, though you were secretly glad she had.
Abby pushed off from the wall, stepping closer. "I wanted to. Besides, I promised I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?" Her voice was playful, but there was something softer in her gaze, something more sincere.
You nodded, the air between you light and easy, but still charged with that undercurrent of something more. "You did," you agreed. "And, uh, I actually have something to show you." You pulled out your phone, tapping through the screens until you found the article you’d written.
Abby raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the screen. "No way," she said, her lips curling up slightly. "You actually made me sound like a good person."
You laughed, but there was a warmth spreading in your chest. "I didn’t just make you sound like a good person, I made you sound amazing." You swiped down, showing her the headline: "Abby Anderson: The Heart of the Winning Team." The words felt just as true as when you’d written them.
She studied the screen for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the phone. "I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to get me to open up like this," she said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "But you did. So, thanks."
Your heart raced at her words. The sincerity in her voice made everything feel more real, like something was shifting between you two.
Abby looked at you, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual, before the silence stretched. The sounds of the party down the hall faded in the background, the moment between you two feeling more significant than any celebration.
"You wanna head back to the party?" you asked, breaking the silence, though neither of you moved immediately
She shook her head, her  hand brushed against yours. She paused, her fingers lingering against your wrist, a soft smile on her lips.
"I think," she started, her voice low and steady, "I’d rather be alone with you right now."
Your heart skipped a beat, her words making everything feel just a little more intimate. The noise from the party down the hall seemed to fade away, the energy shifting in an instant.
"You sure?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now, as the anticipation between you two hung thick in the air.
Abby nodded, her eyes meeting yours, full of something unspoken. "Yeah. I’d rather spend some time with you... just us."
She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before she led you away from the noise, down the hallway, and toward her dorm room. The walk felt longer than it was, but it gave you time to let the anticipation build. Abby’s steps were confident, but there was a softness in the way she held your hand, something that made your chest flutter.
When you reached her dorm, Abby opened the door, stepping aside to let you in. The room was cozy, nothing extravagant, you took in the familiar feeling. It felt like a place where she could truly be herself. The familiar blue jersey she wore still clung to her frame, a symbol of her strength on the ice. But now, in the quiet of the room, she seemed different—less guarded, more present.
She tossed herself on her bed and pulled you in with her, planting kisses on you. 
The sudden pull caught you off guard, and you laughed softly as you fell beside her. Abby's arms wrapped around you, her strength both reassuring and gentle. Her kisses were warm, pressing against your skin with an intensity that made everything else fade away. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the sound of your breathing.
Abby paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You met her gaze, a smile curving your lips as you traced the line of her jaw with your fingers, feeling the tension melt away under your touch.
“You okay?” she whispered, her voice husky and low, a tender contrast to the fierce athlete everyone else knew.
You nodded, your fingers threading through her hair. “More than okay,” you murmured, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, as if both of you were savoring the rare moment of peace away from the chaos of the rink and the noise of the world outside.
Abby shifted, pulling you even closer, her embrace tightening around you as if she wanted to make sure this moment stayed real. The scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, made your heart race. 
You sit up and move on top of her, her gaze softening as you did. “I think
 you deserve a reward for your excellent performance at the game. don’t you think?” 
Abby’s eyes widened slightly at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She let out a breathy laugh, her hands finding their place on your hips as she looked up at you, a mix of amusement and anticipation in her gaze.
“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Is that so?”
You leaned down, your lips barely brushing hers as you whispered, “Absolutely.” The playful tone sent a shiver through her, and you felt her fingers tighten their hold, drawing you closer.
Abby’s gaze softened, the fierce determination she carried on the ice replaced by an openness that was reserved for moments like this—moments just between the two of you. The space between you seemed to shrink as she tilted her head to meet your lips again, her kiss more insistent, filled with a new kind of energy that made your pulse quicken.
She sighed against your mouth, the sound sending warmth rushing through you. Her hands traveled up your back, pulling you down until there was barely any distance left. The room, once filled with quiet, seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat between you.
“Best reward ever,” Abby whispered, a grin breaking through before she kissed you again, deeper this time as if she couldn’t get enough.
Pulling away from the kiss, you start to unbutton your shirt, watching her gaze on you. 
She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to unbutton your shirt. She felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached up, helping you remove the shirt, her fingers brushing against your skin. "You're so
”
"...beautiful," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your collarbone, feeling the warmth of your skin. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the spot she had just touched, before moving on to kiss the sensitive skin just below your jaw.
She trailed her kisses down your neck, her lips lingering on your pulse point. She could feel your heartbeat fluttering beneath her mouth, quickening with each touch. "I want you," she murmured against your skin, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips.
She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pulled back slightly. "You're right, I got a little carried away," she said with a playful grin. She settled back, watching you with hooded eyes, her hands resting on your thighs.“Ah! Not so fast Abigail. I’m the one who’s giving you this reward remember?”
You help her remove her jersey, and then the shirt she was wearing underneath. You trail down to her pants. As you began to unzip her pants, she lifted her hips, allowing you to slide them down along with her underwear. She lay before you, her body bare and exposed, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her eyes, filled with desire, followed your every movement as you leaned down.
She let out a soft gasp as you kissed her stomach, your lips trailing down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around your head, holding you close as you continued your path of kisses. When you reached her inner thigh, she spread her legs wider, giving you access to her most intimate area.
She moaned softly as you kissed her, the sensation overwhelming. Her hips buckled against your touch, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. She tangled her hands in your hair, pulling you closer as the pleasure intensified. "Please...please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper.
She arched her back, her breath hitching as you continued to tease her with your mouth. Her legs tightened around your shoulders, her whole body tensing as the pressure built inside her. "Don't stop...please, don't stop..." she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.
Her eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O’ as you pushed two fingers inside her. She writhed beneath your touch, her hips bucking against your hand. "Yes...like that...please..." she moaned, her voice growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.
“Hm? You like it baby?” You hissed. 
“Oh god, yes...” She panted, her body tensing as your fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot deep inside her. Her head fell back against the bed, her body trembling. "More...I need more..." She looked at you, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.”
You smiled, pleased with her reaction, and added a third finger, scissoring them inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as the stretch and pressure became overwhelming. "Fuck...fuck fuck fuck!" She chanted, her voice echoing through the room as she struggled to breathe.
She could feel the heat building inside her, her body growing warmer and more sensitive with each passing second. Her hands grasped at the sheets beneath her, pulling them taut as the tension became unbearable. "I'm...I'm going to...please, please!" She begged, her eyes wide and desperate.
With a final thrust, you pushed your fingers deep inside her, crooking them upwards. She shattered, her body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure washed over her. She screamed your name, her voice hoarse from shouting, her body growing limp as the aftershocks subsided.
As she came down from her high, she pushed feebly at your shoulder, her body still shuddering occasionally. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice still ragged from her release. She pushed you onto your back, straddling you before you could protest.
You landed on your back with a surprised grunt, looking up at her with widened eyes. She grinned mischievously, her eyes filled with lust and determination. She slowly began to kiss her way down your chest, her hands caressing your skin.
She continued her descent, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. Without warning, she reached out and tore open your already unbuttoned shirt, the fabric ripping easily under her strength. She tossed the shirt aside and moved on to your pants, roughly pulling them down your legs along with your panties
Once she had you fully exposed, she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily roaming over your body. She licked her lips before leaning down, her hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "I'm going to make you feel so good,”
She whispered, her voice low and sultry. Before you could respond, she wrapped her hands around your thighs, pushing them apart. She leaned down and slowly, torturously, ran her tongue up your length.
She took her time exploring you with her tongue, licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Her hands massaged your thighs, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. She worked you with skill and enthusiasm, determined to drive you wild with pleasure.
Abby sucked on your clit making you toss your head back and grip her hair. You could feel her smile. She stops for a second and slides in her fingers inside you
She curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as she continued to suck on your clit. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against her face desperately. She added another finger, scissoring them inside you as she finger-fucked you relentlessly.
She could feel you tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers faster. Her other hand reached up to roughly grope your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. She wanted to feel you come undone.
The combination of sensations became too much and you came with a loud moan, your body shaking and convulsing. Abby continued to stroke you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Mmm, you taste divine," she purred.
She crawled back up your body, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She leaned down to claim your lips in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her. She ground her hips against yours, her own desire evident in the way she rocked against you. She was far from finished with you
 
She kisses your neck, trailing down until she reaches your breasts, sucking on your nipples. 
She lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and kneading the soft mounds. She bit down gently on one peak, causing you to gasp. She grinned mischievously and continued her torture, moving between the two and back again.
“Mhmm.. Abby
 Shit”
She heard your muffled words, your voice hoarse with desire. She knew you were helpless under her touch. She bit down harder on your peak, relishing your cry of pleasure-pain. She moved her hand down to toy with your slick folds, mirroring the action of her mouth with her fingers. 
You bit your lip, staring at her. as if begging her to give it to you. You wanted her fingers inside your walls once again.
Abby looked up at you through her lashes, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly slid one finger, then two inside you, loving how you bit your lip and watched her with eager eyes. "You like that, baby?”
“Fuck yes
” 
Abby pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them upward to hit that spot deep inside. Her thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub. "Look at me while I touch you," she demanded. Your eyes locked onto hers as your hips lifted to meet her touch, silently begging for more.
She added another finger, stretching you. She watched your face as she increased her pace, her fingers slamming in and out of you. Your breaths came in short pants, your moans filling the room. She leaned down to capture one of your moans with her mouth, kissing you deeply.
Your legs shook as she worked you expertly. She could feel you tightening around her fingers. "That's it, baby. Come for me," she encouraged, her voice low. You shattered, convulsing around her fingers as you found your release.
As your climax washed over you, Abby gentled her touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers.
She gathered you in her arms, holding you close as your breathing gradually slowed.
She stroked your back soothingly, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "You’re gorgeous," she murmured. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a warm, damp cloth, cleaning you up tenderly. 
She tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into her arms. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. She nuzzled your neck, her voice laced with concern. You snuggled against her, your voice sleepy. "Content," you murmured. "So taken care of
”
She smiled, her heart warming at your words. She tightened her arms around you, her voice gentle. "Good. You deserve to be taken care of." She kissed your shoulder, her touch becoming slower, more loving. "Rest now, baby. I've got you.”
Abby’s gaze softened as she watched you sleep, the subtle rise and fall of your chest lulling her into a sense of calm she rarely found anywhere else. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your soft breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.
She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in—a mix of contentment and the unfamiliar ache of something deeper. Brushing her thumb across your cheek, she whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me,” her voice so low it was almost swallowed by the quiet.
As exhaustion finally pulled her eyes closed, Abby held you tighter, as if anchoring herself to this moment. The worries of games and expectations could wait; for now, all that mattered was the warmth shared between you and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.
 ⋆.ËšđŸŠ‹àŒ˜â‹†Â 
205 notes · View notes
amirasainz · 10 hours ago
Note
hi! Could you maybe do something like reader is Lando's baby sister and it's her first time at a GP so he shows her off to all the drivers?
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
- xoxo babygirl 🧡
Proud big brother
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Lando was bouncing with excitement as he led his six-year-old sister, Y/N, through the paddock at the Silverstone Grand Prix. It was her first time attending a race weekend, and he was beyond thrilled to have her here. He'd been talking about it for weeks, sending her little videos of the track, the car, and the crowd. He’d told her everything he could think of to help her understand what a race weekend was like.
Today, though, seeing her tiny hand in his, wide-eyed with awe as she looked around, he felt a mix of pride and protectiveness. He was determined to make this the best day ever for her.
Lando grinned as they entered the McLaren garage, and his engineer shot him a look of amusement, clearly surprised to see him accompanied by someone so small.
“Y/N, meet the team!” Lando gestured with a grand sweep of his hand. “These guys keep my car fast and safe.”
Y/N looked around with big eyes, giving a shy wave, which earned a couple of chuckles from the engineers.
Just then, Lando spotted Carlos walking by, and his face lit up. “Oh! Y/N, you have to meet Carlos.” He crouched down beside her, whispering, “He used to be my teammate, and he's one of the nicest guys on the grid.”
Y/N’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as Carlos approached, his expression softening immediately when he saw the young girl.
“Hola, Y/N!” Carlos crouched down to her level, extending his hand for a handshake. “I’m Carlos. I've heard so much about you already, niña"
Y/N giggled and shook his hand with both of hers, looking up at Lando as if to say, isn’t he cool?
Lando chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You know, Carlos is really fast too, just like me.”
“Like a race car?” she asked, eyes widening as she looked back at Carlos.
Carlos laughed. “Exactly like a race car. Maybe even faster than Lando.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Lando teased, giving Carlos a playful nudge.
As they chatted, the crowd around them started to notice the heartwarming scene. Cameras from media outlets and phones of fans began focusing on the Norris siblings. Lando noticed the flashing cameras and shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at Y/N, who was too enthralled with Carlos’s explanation of “how to go fast” to notice.
Oscar walked over, intrigued by the gathering. “Who’s this?” he asked, bending down to give Y/N a warm smile.
Lando's eyes sparkled with pride. “This is my little sister, Y/N.”
Oscar’s face lit up as he crouched beside her. “Hi, Y/N. I’m Oscar.”
Y/N looked up at Oscar, studying his soft hair, and before anyone could say a word, she reached out and began gently petting his head as if he were a small animal. She tilted her head, seemingly fascinated by the texture.
Oscar froze for a second, clearly surprised, but then he let out a soft laugh. “Guess I have soft hair, huh?”
Carlos burst out laughing, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got some competition here, Lando. She’s already got a favorite driver.”
Lando’s face flushed, caught between amusement and a sudden urge to shield his sister from all the cameras and teasing.
“Y/N, don’t bother him too much,” he said gently, giving her a small, protective smile. “Oscar needs to save his energy for racing.”
Y/N giggled and looked back at Oscar, who just winked at her, clearly enjoying the attention. Lando could feel the eyes of the media zooming in on their little interaction, the moment drawing attention from fans and reporters alike.
Max strolled over, smirking when he saw the scene. “So, this is the famous Y/N I’ve heard so much about?”
Y/N looked up, wide-eyed. “You’re the one who’s always beating Lanno!” she said with innocent frankness, making all the drivers burst into laughter.
Lando groaned, covering his face with one hand. “Thanks, Y/N. I feel the love.”
Max chuckled, bending down so he was eye-level with her. “You know, it’s only because I have more experience,” he explained, trying to keep a straight face. "And because I'm just a bit better than he is right now," he teased gently.
Y/N tilted her head, looking from Max to Lando. “Will you beat him, Lanno?”
Lando nodded, trying to sound confident, though he was smiling at her earnest expression. “Of course I will, Y/N. I’m going to win a championship one day.”
Y/N’s face lit up with excitement, and she threw her arms around him. “You’re my favorite driver, Lanno!”
The other drivers couldn’t help but chuckle at the sweet interaction. Charles had joined the group by now, observing everything with an amused smile.
“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles teased, folding his arms. “Y/N’s loyalty clearly lies with you.”
“Yeah, for now,” Carlos chimed in, smirking as he watched her go back to petting Oscar’s hair. “But give her a couple more races with us, and she might just change her mind.”
Lando rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. He gently tugged Y/N’s hand, leading her away from Oscar. “Alright, alright, don’t get too comfortable with my teammates. You’re here to support me, remember?”
Y/N nodded, but her attention was soon stolen by a nearby display of miniature cars in the McLaren hospitality area. She tugged on Lando’s sleeve, pointing at them with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Oh! Look, Lanno! Tiny race cars!”
Lando chuckled, letting her excitement distract him from his nerves about the media coverage. “Want to pick one out? Maybe we can find one that looks like my car.”
As she eagerly examined the toy cars, the other drivers exchanged grins, clearly entertained by Lando’s newfound protective side.
“Just wait until she wants to attend all the races,” Charles teased, nudging Lando. “You’ll be too busy babysitting to focus.”
“Right, and she’ll be rooting for Oscar,” Max added, giving Lando a playful shove.
Lando gave them all a playful glare. “You all wish,” he shot back. “She’s my number one fan, right, Y/N?”
Y/N looked up, clutching a toy car that she’d chosen. “Yep! Lanno is the best driver in the world!”
All the drivers exchanged looks of amusement, sharing a laugh, but Lando’s expression softened as he glanced down at his little sister. She didn’t understand the rivalry, the pressure, or the spotlight. To her, he was simply her big brother.
And in that moment, as he held her hand and watched her excitement, he realized that he wouldn’t trade this for anything.
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minolikeswords · 3 days ago
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Poly!Boothill x afab Reader x Argenti- sfw and nsfw headcanons <33
tags: @mr-self-destructxx
cw: multiple positions, boothill and argenti are adorable, poly relationship, praises, degradation, ropes, lots of fluff, DP, DP + 1 hole, manhandling, soft dom argenti, hard dom boothill, dacryphilia, creampie, blow jobs, facials, face fucking, paizuri, cunnilingus, cum play??? argenti really likes tits! Let me know if I missed anything <333
Mino’s notes: going feral I love these two sm
© minolikeswords do not translate, copy, or repost my work to other platforms.
Minors do NOT interact or you will be blocked!!!! Nsfw under the cut <3
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Sfw!
- Boothill loves to cuddle. Because he’s a cyborg his metal body cannot perceive touch the same way skin can, but he does feel warmth and pressure from another body. He loves having you and Argenti lying in his arms or on his chest.
- They both enjoy physical affection a lot, but Argenti is more subtle about it. Due to their respective jobs, often times you’re all in an ldr with one another, so when you are together they try their best to make the most of it. Argenti loves sitting next to you and have some part of your body touching his, and Boothill is clingy as ever, head resting on one of your laps as he cleans his revolver or plans out his next big heist from the IPC.
- Argenti likes washing yours and Boothill’s hair! Whether you have long or short hair he takes meticulous care of it in the shower, brushing his hands through them and rubbing your scalp so good you think you’re going to fall asleep.
- Boothill loves to sing you both to sleep. It doesn’t happen all that often because sometimes picking up a guitar can be particularly challenging after what happened to his daughter, but he loves how happy it makes you both.
- Argenti adores telling people about you and Boothill. Any and every excuse he gets, he’ll take to admire you both <333 he also enjoys gift giving and showing you he loves you through his actions, and loves picking up trinkets for you and Boothill during his travels.
- Boothill is a sweet talker! He adores showering you both in praises and affection, grabbing your face in his metal fingers and pressing his nose against yours as he tells you how good you are to him, kissing up against your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ears.
- As much as I like to think they’d enjoy celebrating any relationship milestone outside, truth be told I think both of them would prefer something quieter in your house spending quality time together. Argenti cooking and preparing dinner, Boothill helping you around the house as you prepare for a cozy night together <3
- Boothill enjoys PDA, he loves showing you and Argenti off every chance he gets, he calls you both his lovers when addressing you guys. Argenti is more subtle with it, but he still likes holding your hands and praising you in public in a way that makes it known you guys are involved.
NSFW!
- Sex with them is never boring, they both make sure of it. Even when they’re being slow or gentle, they take pride in being so thorough your legs are wobbling afterwards and your eyes are filled with tears of pleasure.
- Boothill loves giving head, have you seen his tongue? He eats pussy like he’s a starved man, making Argenti hold you down while he sucks on your clit until you’re coming undone on his face. He’ll take his time with it too, especially if you’re too demanding, letting Argenti play with your tits while he teases your clit and slows down or stops right as you’re about to cum.
- Loves having you lay on your back while Argenti fucks your tits and Boothill uses your mouth. Soft grunts leaving Argenti as he silently admires your face as Boothill fucks your throat, a metal hand gripping your cheek to keep you in place as you drool all over his cock.
- On the subject of tits, Argenti also loves giving you facials during titjobs. He’ll pull out from between your tits just to cum all over your face, he really likes it when you stick your tongue out and look up at him when he’s doing so. He’ll take his time praising you after.
- As much as he loves talking about you both and admiring you, Argenti is quieter during sex. He prefers to focus on your pleasure. He loves watching your reactions, what makes you whimper and cry out for more, occasionally he’ll praise you but it’s not often. Boothill however? It’s a surprise if that man isn’t talking. If his mouth isn’t spewing out the filthiest and dirtiest string of words just to make you squirm and blush with need, then he’s praising you so well the tips of your ears are pink.
- Boothill likes getting risky with the ropes. Especially during sex with him when Argenti isn’t involved, he likes tying you up keeping your legs spread while he fucks you. He loves how embarrassed you get and how desperately you pull against the ropes, begging to touch him and trying to pull away.
- They enjoy leaving bruises on you and each-other. Argenti’s aren’t as noticeable as Boothill’s, who’s metal fingers leave marks all over your body and his sharp teeth marking up both your throat and back, and also Argenti’s. Argenti really enjoys leaving hickeys around your tits, collarbones and thighs. For Boothill, since his only none metal parts are his neck and face, Argenti likes to leave a hickey or two there, they’re usually smaller and they fade quick but Boothill loves showing them off.
- Argenti likes double penetrating one of your holes with both his and Boothill’s cock. He thinks you look so pretty when your eyes go rolling back and you grip onto one of them, whimpering and whining and begging for more. He loves taking care of you and making you feel good <3
- Boothill is embarrassingly into watching Argenti creampie you. His own cock doesn’t produce sperm anymore, but shoots out lubricant, and as helpful as that is, he also just really loves watching you get filled up with cum, especially when it leaks out of your sensitive pussy. Sometimes he’ll get right between your legs and lick Argenti’s cum right out of you.
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cityofmeliora · 2 days ago
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the Terzo autism post ♟
this is kind of an analysis post and kind of a headcanon post.
Terzo reads as autistic to me, especially during his first two concerts when he was speaking without a script and trying to figure things out.
Terzo has that "trying new things is scary and i need to feel like i'm getting a good grade at social interactions and everything has to be done correctly or i'm going to explode" flavor of autism.
[AFTER PERFORMING PRIME MOVER] PAPA EMERITUS III: How am I doing so far? I've been studying these moves so you would feel comfortable. Are you comfortable? Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)
Terzo says he studied the choreography for 'Prime Mover' so the audience would feel comfortable. he's trying to do what people expect, and he keeps checking if he's doing alright and asking the audience if they like what he's doing.
[BEFORE PERFORMING ABSOLUTION] PAPA EMERITUS III: So, we're gonna finish this off with something as weird as a new song. What that delighting, or did you not like that? Yes. Good, good. Linköping, Sweden (June 3, 2015)
PAPA EMERITUS III: So, I know it might seem a little confusing –it's even a little confusing to me, sometimes– y'know, playing new songs for people who've never heard these songs. But I tell you what– we have a really good ending song that you will understand why it is an ending song when you hear it. But now it might seem a bit strange, huh? Sweden Rock Festival - Solvesborg, Sweden (June 4, 2015)
Terzo feels weird about performing new music because it's new and the audience doesn't know what to expect and neither does he. he keeps trying to assure the audience that it'll be okay. but i'm pretty sure he was the only person worried about it. he was about to release a new album, so it completely made sense that he would be performing new songs. he just hates not knowing what to expect, and it doesn't occur to him that not everyone thinks like him.
and then this clip... i think it speaks for itself, but let's talk about it anyway. (i included the audio because i really want people to hear him speaking here.)
PAPA EMERITUS III: Okay! We are now officially wrapping– with a song. It's not a rap song, though. [STUTTERS FOR SEVERAL SECONDS] I've heard from my brother that you are somewhat of a singing crowd. So you like singing, eh? That is fantastic because that is exactly what we're gonna do right now, and if you had said no, that would have been
 weird. So thank you for not being weird and weirding me out. I'm weird enough as it is. Sweden Rock Festival - Solvesborg, Sweden (June 4, 2015)
like where do i even start with this. him thinking he needs to clarify he's not going to be rapping. the stuttering. the fact that he listens to what Secondo tells him so he knows what to expect. him saying "[...] if you had said no, that would have been... weird. So thank you for not being weird and weirding me out. I'm weird enough as it is."
he feels like a weirdo and he just wants things to be normal so bad. 😭
he also gets really irritated when people are incorrect / do things incorrectly. he has the literal / rigid thinking patterns characteristic of autistic people
PAPA EMERITUS III: Well, it's getting late. AUDIENCE: NOOO! PAPA EMERITUS III: Yes! It's not a matter of opinion. It is getting late. Sweden Rock Festival - Solvesborg, Sweden (June 4, 2015)
he tells the audience it is objectively true that it is getting late.
then there's the whole bit where he wants people to clap along to the music but he hates it if people clap wrong or don't clap with the correct rhythm.
and the bit where he asks the audience to say "Meliora" and emphasizes the correct pronunciation versus the incorrect pronunciation.
Terzo strikes me as someone who is constantly trying to perform a very intentionally constructed social personality, not only as an entertainer but as a person. and while he's naturally charismatic and charming, it's actually quite difficult for him to perform this public personality because he's constantly concerned with getting a good grade in social interactions and things being done correctly.
and there are all the quotes about Terzo being a recluse who only interacts with others as much as is strictly necessary. this is definitely clinical depression, but i think his autism is also a factor.
he got comfortable once he settled into a routine and created a script that he could repeat, though. after that, he was really on autopilot during his concerts. which is also so so autistic of him <3
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xoxosolia · 3 days ago
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hii. ohmg, just read your post about you becoming a master shifter and I'm sooo happy for you!! seeing successes on here genuinely makes me feel so inspired and happy, so thanks for sharing it with us.
however, i would love to know how you shifted for the first time, what blockages did u let go of to finally have shifted. also i hope you can mention the method when u first shifted (if u used any), which methods do you use to shift regularly now? how does it feel to be a master shifter? and if its okay with you, can you share wid us your Drs? ALSO IS SHIFTING RLLY AS EASY AS THEY SAY!!?
thankyouu soo much💌
♡ How i shifted for the first time ♡
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The first time I shifted was a normal Sunday. I was so depressed and I absolutely didn't want to go to class because the next day I had a lot of control, so i just said to myself "I'll shift tonight or never" I was seriously determined, so I tried closing my eyes and putting on a subliminal but it didn't work so I fell asleep.
I woke up around 2 a.m. and realized that I hadn't succeeded. I was a little disappointed and very tired but I wanted to try again. So since it was still early and I had time, that's what I did. I concentrated on my dr very precisely, imagining myself looking in the mirror and dressing myself in my dream clothes, I was extremely focused on all the details , my face, clothes my friends, things like that.
It lasted about 20 minutes I think, until my eyes opened on their own and was in my room in my dr on my bed, I didn't immediately understand that I had shifted , everything seemed so normal. It took me 5 minutes to understand that my room had changed and I was like "Oh shit"
I think what made me succeed that night and not the others was that I was very focused on my dr and that I was too tired to notice the symptoms that I had, And also because those days I was alone at home and therefore my house was completely silent, so i understood that was just a problem of distraction
I didn't use any particular method, I just let myself go and I don't use any at all now. I just think very hard about my dr and I'm there
Honestly I really like being a master shifter, I feel so powerful lol😭. and it really boosted my self-confidence. It also means that now I no longer ask for anything at all because I know that if I want it I will have it whether it is with the shift or with the manifestation. When I realized that I had become a master shifter I first had a mini existential crisis. I was asking myself things like "So technically magic exists?" "So technically I'm immortal?" "So anything is really possible?" I wasn't really sad about it on the contrary. I found it incredible (and still do)
The shift also really changed the way I interact with others, whether here or in my other realities. Personally I don't make a script and I keep everything in my head because my subconscious knows what I want and sometimes in my dr my personality changes without me realizing it.
In my fame dr I am rather extroverted or even arrogant, and in my barbie charm school dr I am rather introverted and stubborn, the worst is that I never realized it until the day I had a big argument with my best friends from my fame dr. They didn't want to talk to me anymore and that's when I realized that yes, I can have problems even on shift in a perfect reality.
I have a lot of idea for my dr but for now i shift only in my better cr, fame dr and my Barbie charm school dr (I will definitely do a post about my dr).
I hope I answered all your questions :))
Xoxo, Solia à«źê’°àŸ€àœČ➝➝> . <âžâžê’±àŸ€àœČა
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tumbleweedtech · 2 days ago
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There are a variety of other bookmarking websites and browser options that allow you to privately collate bookmarks with notes. The option is there for you to use this Ao3 feature that way (by marking it Private). But what baffles me is people behave shocked when the reason they keep saying they write nasty bookmarks is to "warn" other readers. (cruel, unkind ones. I'm not talking about "untagged X" that's just a heads up to other readers, or notations like chapter count, or a reminder of the story "the one with the goat". I mean ones they're putting in bookmarks because they're too cowardly to put it in comments where they know they'll get deleted/blocked.) If you are warning the general public that Author writes what you consider OOC Blorbo who had the audacity to bottom for other OOC Blorbo.... Why is it beyond your scope of comprehension that writers would read this as well? Writers are in the same fandom. They read the same fics. They enjoy the same parts of fandom as you. I have blocked Ao3 accounts simply for writing something nasty on someone else's work. You behave like that elsewhere? Suffer the consequences. You may never notice, but I can rest easy knowing I'll never have to interact with someone so entitled. And that's really what it is, entitlement. Readers forgetting that Authors are also a part of the fandom community, not just slathering content machines who pump out wank material for the void to consume silently, cruelly, and with often not even a passing kudo to acknowledge the time and effort spent on writing. So yeah. I think that "it's ours to do what we want with" is kinda bullshit, when i'm specifically talking about unkindness that's *permanently attached and publicly visible*. You don't have to slather praise, just. Don't be a dick.
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Been hearing this is a problem again. Don't be a dick in bookmarks, folks. And yes while I made this image, I'm giving free reign. Take it. Spread it far and wide. Because I'm hearing that some readers don't know that their bookmarks are visible.
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revelboo · 3 days ago
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Your Thundercracker snippets are giving me life! Looking forward for a possible continuation of the story ♡
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Better Open The Door Pt 6
IDW Thundercracker x Reader
‱ Walking back to his quarters, he keeps thinking about his interaction with Star. Hating that he’d hurt Starscream, but his brother had shocked him, too. Had mass displaced to interface with a human, that possibility now twisting through him. That humans and Cybertronians are not only compatible that way, but that Star cares that much. That he’s changing for the better. Running a hand over his helm, he vents softly as he lets himself into his quarters and there you are, looking up from rearranging the things he’s given you. “Hi,” you say, straightening and wrapping your arms around yourself. Making an effort for him when you smile weakly. Knows you’re still unhappy with him for taking you, that you don’t understand what’s coming, what he can’t say. That he’s protecting you from the war on the horizon, because he doesn’t want to lose you. “You were gone a while this time.”
‱ “Miss me?” He asks, his tone almost teasing despite the serious slant of his mouth that he almost immediately hides with a smile. Eyes narrowing suspiciously, you waggle a hand in the air in a maybe gesture. “I missed you,” he protests, reaching out a servo to slide along the inside of your arm and lift your hand and you play along, pressing your palm to the tip of his servo because it pleases him. It hasn’t taken long to figure out the rules to dealing with him. Don’t bring up wanting to go home being the biggest one, because it puts him in a depressed funk that actually manages to make you feel bad.
‱ “I missed how warm you are,” you say, nose scrunching at him. “It’s freezing in here.” Huffing a soft laugh, he curls his servos around you and carries you to his berth to lounge with you against his chassis. Feeling you relax into him with a grateful sigh. “I swear you keep it an icebox in here just so you can be grabby.” Running his servos along your spine, he grimaces. Because he could raise the temperature, but then you wouldn’t have a reason to tolerate his touch. He likes the warmth of you against him, the faint feel of your heart beating against him, a constant reassurance that he’s not alone.
‱ Hating that you need his warmth, but savoring it all the same as it spills through you to ease your tension, you lay your cheek against him. Feeling that low thrum that he’d explained was his spark humming under you. Wishing, too, you didn’t enjoy the slow slide of a servo from the back of your neck down your spine. Or the sound of his laughter rumbling through you. “Grabby?”
‱ Blowing out a breath, you hide your face in your palms. “Yes, grabby. Like I’m your personal teddy bear,” you mutter and he lets his head fall back. Is that what you think you are to him? A toy to cling to only to comfort himself? You really think you mean so little to him? Again, he thinks about Starscream and his human, about having things he didn’t even know he could have. Your warmth and companionship are what he’d kept coming back for, but now that he knows he can have everything? Venting softly, he drapes his servos over you. He won’t push for more, not while you don’t understand what you mean to him. Not until he can show you that you rescued him at his lowest, his loneliest. You’d kept reaching out, smiling for him, getting excited to share your movies with him even though it was just you he’d kept coming back for. Someone to talk to, someone who has the time for him, that doesn’t treat him like a burden because he’s lonely. How can you not see that you’re the most precious thing he has?
Previous
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sleepyparalysisdmon · 3 days ago
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SVT and arguments
Requested? Yes!
Genre: angst and comfort
A/N: I received a few requests regarding different elements of arguing, so I’ve combined these into one. 
A knock-down-drag-out - Seungcheol, Woozi, Mingyu
Ah, the fire signs. They might be a little temperamental, if only to feel like they’re being heard. Might not react much to tears in the moment, though it does tug at his heart strings, but if you flinch away from him or give any indication that you're scared or nervous, it’s like the plug is pulled for him and the anger drains fast. Incredibly apologetic and feeling rather guilty because he’s supposed to protect you and be someone you can depend on. Can't guarantee that he’ll never lose his temper, but will make a real effort to hit pause on the argument to cool down and try to come back to it feeling more level-headed so you two can fix it. 
Super passive aggressive - Jeonghan, Seungkwan
You fought the other day. It happens. But he’s still feeling particularly bitter about it because he doesn't feel like anything was really resolved. So, whenever he interacts with you, he’s cold, making passive aggressive comments that sting quite a bit. The fight initially started because you’d been having a bad week and it feels like things have just piled on, including these little comments. One comment over dinner makes you break, putting your head in your hands and crying. Now he feels guilty. Will do his best to comfort you if you let him, giving you soft apologies. Future fights can't always be prevented, but trust that he'll check himself and not run his mouth in an effort to avoid rubbing salt in the wound. 
The silent treatment - Joshua, Wonwoo, Minghao, Chan
You fought the other day. It happens. But it’s not often that he just pretends you don't exist. If you get anything at all from him, it’s a shrug or a one-word answer. You give him space because you think that's what he needs, but there’s only so much you can take. So you come to him and practically beg, “Can we please talk?” Might be a bit cold at first, but if your eyes start watering, he’ll sigh, sitting with you to talk it out. Didn’t want to ignore you in the first place, but feels like he wasn’t being heard. Throughout your conversation, he realizes you weren't feeling heard either. Will do better in the future about opening lines of communication and finding ways to talk about their feelings without being highly emotional or turning cold.
Does literally everything to avoid conflict - Jun, Hoshi, DK, Vernon
Absolutely folding at the first sign of an argument. You’re upset with him? He's apologizing right away, promising not to do that thing again. He’s upset with you? He’ll tell you it’s okay just to keep the peace. Might be a bit of a pushover when it comes to something like this, so you’ll have to pry the reason he’s upset out of him. Really just wants to get back to business as usual and not linger on a disagreement if it does happen. 
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chewnotchoke · 3 days ago
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only us who knows - leehan
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synopsis: you havent seen your boyfriend, leehan, in a while so you decided to surprise him in his fansign and he tries his best not to be obvious infront of everyone else
got inspired from this leehan vid
warnings: secret relationship, fluff, idol!leehan x non-idol!reader
wc: 781
more under the cut!
video calls and late-night messages were never quite enough. nothing could ever be as great as having your boyfriend beside you; it’s been two months since you last saw each other. your heart has been torn between the joy of his success and the loneliness of his absence over the months apart, and the pain has been constant. despite all, your love remained the same.
but tonight, you are now standing in line for their fan sign in japan. you had to fly over for a few hours just to see him again, and leehan knows nothing about it. you’re standing there like everyone else, your hands sweaty, your heart racing, even though you've touched his hand a hundred times. seeing him welcome each fan with that bright smile you know so well makes it feel unreal, like a strange combination of tension and excitement. if feels weird to be here, publicly supporting him like everyone else, even though you've been keeping your relationship with him a secret.
with each step, the line moves closer, and your heart beats more loudly. in the hopes that he won't notice you until the last minute, you keep your head down. you can already imagine his reaction: his breathless laughter, his wide-eyed shock, and his usual way of reaching for your hand, as though he finds it hard to believe you're real.
taesan was seated first, followed by sungho, jaehyun, riwoo, leehan, and then woonhak. right before it was your turn to interact with jaehyun, leehan’s eyes found yours across the room, and his face broke into the most genuine, unguarded smile, the kind he usually saves just for you. you could tell that he could not contain his excitement anymore and he started finding it hard to focus on the fan in front of him. he tried to contain it, molding his features into a more controlled smile, but you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the barely-contained excitement. leehan can’t hide it from you, not even if he tried.
and then, it’s your turn.
leehan’s face breaks into a more radiant smile, and he practically bounces in his chair. you furrow your eyebrows worriedly and your eyes try to tell him not to be so obvious. he clears his throat and says in his usual fan sign tone, “thank you for coming to see me.” but, his voice has a warmth and tenderness meant for you, and his eyes tell a different story, hinting at all the words he can’t say here. the two of you softly chuckles. he squeezes your hand, his thumb grazing your fingers in a way that, after all this time away, feels both exhilarating and natural. “i couldn’t wait any longer.” you said.
he kept squeezing your hand gently, as if to say “i’ve missed you, too.”
but he breathes, almost like a whisper, “i missed you.” and you become wary of your surroundings, worried someone must have heard him because leehan was not bothered to be worrying about anyone hearing what he just said. because to be honest, he will scream how much he misses you in front of everyone else if he could. he then slides his other hand under the table, giving your knee a reassuring squeeze.
his eyes hold yours, and then his look fell into every feature you have on your face, glistening with that comforting warmth, and you know he’s struggling to hold back. “can’t i just stand there and hug you? i don’t think holding hands is enough.”
his eyes lingered on your lips.
one thing about leehan when he’s restrained from doing something he wants, he becomes insufferable. “careful, a lot of people are watching.” you whisper, trying to remind him of where you both are. he tries to regain his composure but can’t help but lean in a little closer than necessary. he laughs softly and shakes his head, his eyes dancing with mischief. "you make it hard for me to be professional."
right when the staff asks you it’s almost time to move, leehan’s touch which was once so subtle now felt like he didn’t want to let go. the warmth in his eyes is becoming unmistakable and the fans are starting to notice. before you’re ushered to move along, he scribbles something on one of the pages in the album. even as you walk away, you feel his gaze following you and then he mouths something only you could understand and feel.
“i love you.”
after you are done with the fan sign, you flip through the pages of the album and see his writing: let’s meet at our hotel later. it’s my turn to surprise you.
ïżŒ
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redrose10 · 2 days ago
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This was a request for fake dating with Jungkook and prompt #40 I think I have always been in love with you for @yoongznme. I hope you like it!
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< Lemonade >
Warnings: Hints of body insecurities
#40 “I think, I have always been in love with you.”
*******************************************************
“I’m sorry what?”, you asked them to repeat themselves for the third time still not believing what you were hearing. When your boss asked to have a word with you about a promotion you thought it would include a few extra responsibilities and hopefully a much needed raise because being a makeup artist for an award winning kpop group did not really pay as well as you’d think.
You never expected to be told that you would be pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend though. It was some crazy plan that the company’s PR team came up with after he had recently gotten some bad press over something dumb and out of his control but at the end of the day it was still bad press effecting numbers which effected profit.
They thought that it would be a good idea to make it look like he was a loving, sweet, devoted boyfriend who could do no wrong. Somehow or another your name got thrown in the mix because you yourself were nice, polite, and you had this kind of the good girl next door thing that they were looking for.
You were nervous to say the least. Jungkook was attractive, no one would deny that. He was also always very kind and thoughtful when you interacted and you definitely had a small crush on him but you were a professional and knew not to let your emotions get in the way of your work plus there’s no way a global superstar would ever actually want to date a struggling makeup artist.
However you agreed, though you had the suspicion you really didn’t have a choice anyways if you wanted to stay employed, and they told you to be back at the building tomorrow night at 8pm.
So you did just that. You were in the dress one of the stylist left for you and you’d done your makeup and hair. Jungkook was styled perfectly as usual and he smelled so warm and comforting as he gave you a hug, “You look really nice Y/N.”
“Thank you.”, you whispered hoping he couldn’t see you blush.
The plan was to drive over to a very well known hotspot for dinner. Idols frequented the place constantly so there was also a stream of paparazzi and fans trying to catch a glimpse.
When you arrived the amount of people shocked you. As soon as Jungkook appeared there were earth shattering screams and so many flashes of light you couldn’t see a foot in front of you.
“Y/N, just stay close behind me.”, he said taking your hand and helping you out of the car while making sure to block the view of the cameras so you could get out comfortably in your dress.
Once you were in view the screams got even louder although maybe angrier. The camera flashes definitely increased though giving you a headache. The bodyguards began to push through the crowd with Jungkook close behind, his hand tightly gripping yours as you tried to keep up.
Inside, the restaurant was significantly calmer which you appreciated. Jungkook sipped on his beer while you stuck to a lemonade.
“I’m sorry the company is making you go through this.”, he said finally after a bout of silence.
“It’s okay. They’re paying me quite a bit so it’s worth it.”, you chuckled not noticing the slight grimace on his face.
The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Jungkook was a great guest and you relaxed enjoyed hearing about his travels and all the funny stories he had, especially the one about Yoongi tripping and falling face first into a cake that Namjoon had decided to leave sitting on the living room floor for some strange reason. He showed you a picture of Yoongi’s face covered in frosting and you couldn’t wait to tease him about it when you saw him next.
After dinner the crowd outside had died down a little bit was still enough that you had to put on an act. Jungkook pulled you close against him as he took you outside and right into the waiting vehicle where he continued to hold you against him even as the car sped off. It sent a wave of emotions through you so you made sure to create a little bit of space between you both just to remind yourself that none of this was real.
It looked like the plan was working perfectly because the next morning there were several headlines questioning who was the cute woman Jungkook was photographed with last night. The fans were also loosing their minds over it, posting over and over about speculations and rumors. You did your best to try and avoid most of them because while a good chunk were generally in favor of the relationship there were still many, mostly fans, that were not happy about Jungkook possibly being in a relationship. This resulted in you seeing some hurtful words about yourself m before deciding to log out of all of your social medias.
The next several weeks were filled with much of the same. Various stages photo ops took place so that fans and photographers could catch moments between you both. When the rumors finally started to become out of hand the company released an official statement confirming the relationship between Jungkook and you, a sweet, down to earth makeup artist that he had fallen madly in love with. The media and fans lost their minds.
You went into this whole thing thinking it would be easy. You were getting a big payday to basically hangout with Jungkook and let your photo get taken. You didn’t expect for your crush to grow into being full on in love with him but it was hard not to fall. He was so incredibly thoughtful and sweet. He was always ordering you lunch or bringing you a coffee even when the cameras weren’t around. When your cat needed an unexpected emergency surgery he paid for it in full after overhearing you cry to one of your friends about how you couldn’t afford it. He was always telling you how pretty you looked or complimenting your clothes with a slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. When you were visiting a friend and missed the last bus and you called him as a last resort hoping he could ask the company to send a car he drove over an hour at 2am to personally pick you up himself while staying on the phone with you the whole time so that you wouldn’t be scared.
After a few months of this it was getting harder and harder to remind yourself this wasn’t real.
Up until this point things were going great. Your relationship was doing exactly what the PR team had hoped. People pretty much completely forgot about his previous scandal and were focused on how he was a sweet and generous boyfriend. His image had never been better.
Then there was an incident. Jungkook was very protective always keeping you close to him. Even when the bodyguards reminded him that they were there for your protection as well he still insisted on personally seeing to your safety.
So one morning you were set to board a flight to New York. Of course the entrance to the air port was packed full of paparazzi and fans all screaming and trying to get photos and videos of you two. The airport had put up barriers but with the amount of people all pushing and shoving some of the barriers got knocked down allowing the crowd to surge in.
Security did their best to surround you guys and get you through the crowd but they were greatly outnumbered.
Thanks to the loud noises and flashing lights and amount of people surrounding you it all became too much and you began to panic. You held onto Jungkook, squeezing his hand that was interlocked with yours to try and ground yourself and remind yourself that you were okay.
“It’s okay Y/N. I’ve got you. We’ll get through this.”, he said trying to comfort you.
The crowd surged forward again. Thanks to your blurry vision and panic you aren’t sure exactly what happened but somehow you tripped ending up on the floor. You were trying to get up fast before you got trampled on but you kept getting pushed and shoved down until you felt someone grab your waist and pull you up. Instantly you recognized the familiar cologne and tucked your face into Jungkook’s shoulder as he quickly pulled you through the rest of the airport.
On the plane where it was quiet and safe you started full on crying. You felt so silly but you couldn’t hold it in any more.The fear and anxiety became too much.
Jungkook came over handing you a bottle of water and some ice for your bruised knee. He rubbed soothing circles on your back as the plane took off, “It’s okay Y/N. It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”
“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”, you whispered starting to feel a little better.
After a while you managed to fall asleep and take a small nap. When you woke up Jungkook was still sitting next to you. He was staring intently at your face.
“Stop looking at me. I’m always so ugly when I wake up.”, you chuckled feeling much better than earlier.
“Impossible. You are never ugly Y/N.”, he whispered.
He was fidgeting with his shoe lace. Something you had picked up on being a nervous habit of his.
“Hey Kook, is there something on your mind?”, you asked.
He waited a moment before nodding, “When we get back from New York I’m going to tell the company that we need to end this fake dating thing. I can’t do it any more.”
You felt like you wanted to cry again but you swallowed it down because maybe he thought you were too weak or why would he want to be with the girl who tripped an embarrassed herself and himself, “O-Okay. It’s up to you.”
“I just
I’m so selfish”, he chuckled, “I’m not going to keep putting you in danger though. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you Y/N, especially if it was my fault. What happened back at the airport
that was a wake up call. I’m sorry I ever suggested this.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion., “What do you mean you suggested this?” You were under the impression this was all the companys PR team but now it seems like he had a part of it.
His cheeks turned a bright red before he ran a hand through his already messy hair, “Well I guess I might as well come clean now.”, he turned his body to look at you fully, “Y/N when the company suggested this fake dating thing I was against it at first. But then
then I thought maybe I could use it as an excuse to spend more time with you. I’ve always thought you were really cute and sweet and kind and I had a bit of a crush on you. So I convinced them to get you to be the woman I fake dated. I was too shy to ask you to hang out so I thought it was a way to spend time with you and get to know you better.”, he made eye contact with you for a brief moment and you could see the fear in them. He continued, “I think I have always been in love with you. I love you more and more every day.”, your heart was practically beating out of your chest at his confession. You tried to stop him but he continued, “And that’s why we have to end this. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You don’t deserve this.”
He looked as if he was about to cry and it made you want to just cuddle him and make everything go away. Instead you chose to grab his hand and hold it on your lap, “Jungkook I love you too. I have for quite a while. Honestly, I didn’t think you would ever see me like that so I thought this was all your company’s idea.”, his shoulders seemed to relax a little at your words so you went on, “I know that dating you comes with lots of hardships but I think the positives greatly outweigh those negatives and I don’t mind going through them. If
if you want to I would like to continue to date you, but maybe actually date and not fake date anymore.”, you chuckled.
That got a big smile out of him too which warmed your heart. “I would love to keep dating you Y/N.”, he nodded. You cuddled in closer to him spending the rest of the flight talking and laughing and enjoying each other’s presence.
When the plane landed he had already arranged for a car to pick you up straight from the tarmac so that you wouldn’t have to endure the stress of walking through the airport with him again.
When he finally made it out front and jumped into the car he smiled at seeing your face, “I missed you Y/N.”, he then leaned in and kissed you like it was nothing new. “You already got into the lemonade didn’t you.”, he chuckled after tasting it on your lips.
“Kook we were only separated for like ten minutes and of course I did. You know lemonade is my favorite.”, you giggled.
He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, “Doesn’t matter. It was ten minutes too long.”
You gave the top of his head a kiss as the car sped off to your new destination.
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reneesghostinthelivingroom · 3 days ago
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Poly!plastics x Drummer!Reader
So Readers is a drummer part of a small band who all go to different schools than the rest of her band, Reader usually keeps to herself but somehow got involved with the plastics, and now she's dating them!? (W rizz fr
.😭) she low-key acts/looks like Trent from Daria, piercings, tats, mostly likely smokes, chills 24/7, scary ass looking mf (according to the student body) but the plastics just find her adorable in all honesty
Save the Moment
|| poly!plastics x drummer!fem!reader
|| Warnings; people dont interact with reader (besides the plastics of course), reader & Regina share a cigarette, underage smoking
|| Summary; when reader joins plastics for lunch, Regina discovers her secret tiktok account.
Requests closed!
Started; November 11th
Finished; November 11th
~~~
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How it happened, you weren't sure. The plastics just kind of approached you one day and went "you're ours now" and you've been theirs since. Not that you had any problem with that. Three hot girlfriends? You'd be crazy to be upset about it. Considering most people find you intimidating, it honestly surprised you when it first happened. But then again, the plastics hardly feared anyone. They're the plastics, after all.
So now you found yourself sitting with them during lunch. As opposed to on your own. It wasn't like you didn't have any friends before them. You actually had an entire band. But all your band mates went to different schools. It's actually impressive you all managed to find each other to begin with.
You were the drummer and you often did little things that made it pretty obvious. Like at the moment, you were tapping your fork and knife against the table to a beat of a song in your head. Eyes closed and just enjoying the vibe; completely tuned out to everything else around you. Only stopping when you felt a hand on your shoulder, opening your eyes to see Gretchen looking at you.
"That's actually like so impressive. Can you make a beat with anything?" Gretchen asked, eyeing you with curiosity and love in her eyes. Her hand resting under her chin, elbow against the table.
"Uh... yeah. Just need something that I can hit with." You shrugged, it seemed pretty normal to you. Nothing overly impressive. Unlike what Gretchen seemed to think. Even Karen had gotten distracted by your little beat, her full attention on you and your hands. As for Regina, she was on her phone. Not really interested.
Though the blonde's eyes widened when she came across a video of you on tiktok. With your band and over a million views. You didn't say anything about being tiktok viral. "Are you kidding?" Regina suddenly looked up at you, eyes fixed on yours. You turned from Gretchen to look at her, confusion quickly taking over your expression.
"Huh?"
"Were you ever gonna mention being tiktok famous?" Regina showed her phone to you, raising an eyebrow in a kind of 'well?' gesture. You shrugged again.
"Didn't really think about it much." It's true, you kind of just post occasional videos and then close the app. You knew of your success on there, but didn't interact much with it. With school, it could only ever be a hobby right now anyways. You weren't about to give yourself false hope on a career. Regina scoffed at your response and checked out your profile. Finding more than just the one viral video there.
She's surprised more people didn't talk to you with the influencer status you had. Then again, your piercings, tattoos and unapproachable vibe made it pretty hard for people to talk to you. Not that you were scary by any means, you were actually pretty damn chill. But the student body liked to paint their own images of people and judge books by their covers.
You didn't really mind, being pretty used to the lone wolf lifestyle. Until your girlfriends came along and changed up that plan.
The rest of the day was pretty boring, classes being their usual snooze fest. You waited outside in a mostly secluded spot, cigarette in hand between your fingers. Taking your light to it before putting it to your lips. One puff. Two. Just what you needed after a school day. The plastics knew your spot, so it didn't take them long to find you up against the wall. Smoking your cigarette with half lidded eyes. You grinned when you saw them.
"Give." Regina held a hand out to you, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Vapes were more her style, but she didn't mind the occasional smoke sesh with you. You smirked and handed it to her, placing it between her fingers for her before blowing the smoke in her face. She huffed and rolled her eyes, but took a puff and sighed. Smoke falling from her lips. Regina couldn't agree more with you, a smoke is perfect after a long school day.
Gretchen and Karen shared a nervous look, clearly both being worried about being caught. The longer you and Regina took, the higher the chances of it were. Gretchen spoke up," c'mon, let's go to the jeep before someone sees."
"Ugh, fine." Regina grumbled, handing the smoke back to you. You put it out against the school wall. Then held onto it as you all walked away to Regina's jeep. When you passed a public trash can, you tossed it in there.
You were a lot of things, but a litterer wasn't one. Karen couldn't help but smile when she noticed. She thought it was kind of cute, how you took the time to take care of things that most people wouldn't even think twice about. She liked that about you. And it earned you a kiss on the cheek from her.
Your arm wrapped around Karen's waist, pulling her in close to your side almost protectively. She giggled at the gesture and smiled more. Yeah, she loved you. Gretchen looked back at the two of you and smiled softly at the sight. The way your head rested against Karen's as you guys walked together.. it was adorable. Gretchen just had to take a picture to save the moment.
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harzilla · 2 days ago
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im still thinking of the lost sibling AU. Let's make it for the halloween event guys. Spoilers below the cut for the most recent JP event with Skully.
Rollo has already been talked about for Glomas.
Now for playful land I was thinking Fellow/Ernesto at first.... But I actually think I like the idea of Yuu in that AU being Gidel/Gino's twin. Just cute little kid who becomes psudo adopted by the older NRC boys. Yuu who's actually pretty bright and loves to learn. I even like the idea that if Gidel is twisted from Gideon, then Yuu is twisted from Figaro. The two look different enough that people don't peg them as siblings right away(Yuu has black hair and yellow eyes like Figaro. Also a nod to the fact a litter of kittens can have multiple fathers and coat patterns)
once it's figured out. Of course Fellow and Gidel have to come to NRC and Ramshackle! What kind of big brother would Fellow be if he didn't keep an eye out on his new sibling? Why so shocked? If he's Gidel's big bro he must be Yuu's big bro right? The NRC boys call bull on that. If anybody is Yuu's big bro it's them.
And Gidel and Yuu are just happy to have somebody their own age and they're siblings too! Yuu happily speaks up for Gidel and is absolutely "He asked for no pickles" with Gidel nodding his head along. Yuu actually even tries to help Fellow and Gidel with learning to read, write, math... Etc....
Nightmare before Christmas event. Skully's twin. Now Skully's human and he died centuries ago before the start. Well, what if Yuu died and reincarnated? Separated all those centuries ago. What if the two actually got to grow up together. Yuu being one of the few people who genuinely understood Skully. Even if he didn't have friends at NRC, his twin Yuu was his biggest support.
and then Yuu passed away while they were teens when both were attending NRC. Maybe Yuu died before Skully did and his soul lingered around ramshackle because he wants one chance to see his twin again. A reincarnated Yuu arriving and Skully not having enough energy to show himself but he follows Yuu around because he just feels a connection with them so he always worries about them. Oh how he wished he could have given those other ghosts a thrashing when they kicked Yuu out of Ramshackle during the ghost marriage event!
Then they all get sucked into the book, including ghost Skully. Skully, who hasn't been solid for centuries can finally touch people again. Skully who can't help but cradle Yuu gently while they're asleep. He's always wanted to be able to talk to them. When Yuu awakens they're not really bothered by Skully. In fact, he feels kind of familiar but they can't place from where.
Afterwards once everybody is free from the book, the truth of Skully is revealed and Yuu asks for the portrait. Saying how they think it should be in Ramshackle. Wasn't that Skully's dorm after all?(I say yes in this AU)
Skully's spirit who lingers, back to watching over Yuu but slowly growing stronger and hopefully can even become corporeal enough to interact directly. If not, He'll just have to talk to them again once Halloween comes around again. They have centuries of catching to do.
.
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citrusandrottefruit · 2 days ago
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Modern!Steddie (This is based on something I read a while back on Tumblr about Eddie becoming famous, Steve getting doxxed, and years later singing Hozier's Francesca to Eddie. I'll look for the fic, and if I find it, I'll put the link here.) EDIT: This is the fic here, guys. I recommend reading it. (https://archiveofourown.org/works/48091627/chapters/121266283)
Steve has always been one of the popular kids, but not the kind of childish villains you see in movies. No, he was popular because he was handsome, had rich parents, was charismatic, and was good at sports. He didn't bully other kids, but he wasn't interested in them either.
He never felt the need to seek out new connections at school, because he'd had Tommy and Carol for years, and anyone new who wanted to talk to him would come to him. He didn't have to work hard to make new friends.
His time was spent on sports and the friends he already had. The occasional girlfriend, too, because he'd always been a romantic at heart and a lonely kid. Being best friends with a couple would also make him feel like a third wheel a lot, so having a girlfriend and double dates seemed cool.
Then he got into a fight with Tommy and Carol after that graffiti episode in the movies and they drifted apart. Tommy wasn't mean about it, but he was resentful and hostile, because they were best friends and it always sucks to lose a friend to a boyfriend/girlfriend who you think cheated on them.
After a year, when he and Nancy broke up, he, Tommy and Carol didn't get back together, but they weren't hostile, you could tell they felt bad for him. Steve wanted to be friends with them again, he just didn't feel right crawling back with his tail between his legs and he also felt guilty that they never reconnected before. He didn't want it to seem like he only got back together because he was single.
He's still popular, but now his best friends aren't around anymore and he got cheated on by his girlfriend, but he feels like he deserved it (let's just say the story they made up about Barbara dying was real and the trauma grew into a monster and consumed their entire relationship). So he feels alone.
He has the kids. But Dustin thinks he's awesome and he doesn't want to be anything less, Lucas also sees him as a hero, willing to take a beating for him, Max looks up to him as a big brother. Will is Jonathan's brother and has traumas, so Steve would never dump his problems on the kid. Mike is Nancy's brother.
All of his real friends are kids.
So, Eddie. Steve isn't lonely around school, he still interacts with other students, he's friendly with the popular crowd, a lot of people like him. He just has these moments where he seems sad and then suddenly he seems super chill again.
Anyone who looks closely can tell he's got a problem and pretends not to, but it's not obvious. Eddie doesn't think much of it at first. He actually finds it amusing, because he has a lot of shallow and superficial ideas about popular kids who conform to the norm and who are well-off.
Eddie comes over when he sees Steve reading a DnD rulebook. He mocks it a bit, but explains a few things and Steve, who has always been a social butterfly and never cared much about sitting at the same table as some group in the cafeteria, sits down with Hellfire.
Not with the intention of being their friend, just because he wanted to ask them questions, take notes and move on with his life. A brief connection, a friendly interaction. No different from his relationship with most people who are part of his social circle.
But Eddie keeps pulling him closer, invites him to join the Hellfire Club. Steve declines, because he likes the stories and wanted to learn about DnD because of the kids, but he feels insecure about being a player, about roleplaying, he's afraid of making the wrong decisions and ruining something that seems to be so important to their friends (both the kids and Eddie).
Eventually, they fall in love.
Steve graduates without much distinction and Eddie barely makes it, but they are free from high school. While Eddie continues to play concerts at the Hideout with the CC boys, Steve works at Scoops Ahoy and makes friends with Robin.
So, when Eddie decides to leave, Steve asks them to wait a little, to save up more money, to get better organized. If they stayed for a whole year, Robin could even leave with them. When Eddie doesn't agree, he says they can continue their relationship long-distance. After all, it's 2010 and there's technology for that.
Eddie leaves anyway, believing that Steve will regret it and look for him, understand that leaving is the right choice and blah blah blah. Steve can't leave yet, because if he moves out, if he doesn't follow the path his parents have laid out, he'll give up any illusion of family he might have had. His car is in his father's name, he doesn't have much savings, he's still not open about being bisexual and he's terrified of leaving his entire life behind. It's hard in Hawkins, but facing the whole world, the uncertainty, not having a home to go back to
 It scares him. Eddie doesn't understand, because if nothing else worked out for him, he could go back to Wayne and be welcomed with open arms.
One of Eddie's first hit songs is about a preppy, popular, charismatic kid who's the captain of the swim team and lives in Loch Nora who starts dating him in his senior year and gets stuck in a shitty job at the mall. It's easy to figure out who Steve is. People at school find out quickly.
I like to think Carol is the one who alerts him, goes to his job to tell him the rumors. Tommy goes with her. Although Carol is kinder and more open and Tommy keeps his distance, as if he might be infected, he also tells Steve to be careful, for old times' sake.
Either way, he becomes a target. The students tell their parents that they believe the hit song is about Steve. This story even gets around the church that his parents donate to and "attend" when they're around. His parents' friends find out. His business partners find out. His parents, too.
His parents suddenly move back home. It was a huge fight, with his mother accusing him of being possessed, suggesting a treatment to "cure" him. Mr. Harrington said it was due to a lack of beatings. Either way, it ended with him bleeding alone in the street.
A few days later, he and Robin managed to return to "steal" some of his belongings back, including documents. Other than that, he lost everything.
Mr. Wheeler didn't even want him to get close to Mike anymore.
For a while, he spends his days between the Hendersons' couch and Robin's bedroom floor, feeling like shit and listening to the music Eddie wrote over and over again.
After that, he sells his cell phone, his laptop, whatever he managed to keep. Robin also sells some of her things and the kids help with this small fundraising, selling cakes and sweets. Even Tommy and Carol seek them out, providing almost 50% of the money. That way, Steve is able to leave with a few months' rent saved.
Wayne also helped, because he knew that Eddie's music was responsible for this. Steve told him never to talk about everything that happened with Eddie, so Wayne kept it a secret.
I think Tommy, Carol and Steve could get back to being friends. Not the same as before, but they have lunch together every few months and they were the ones who helped Steve get a job in a new city.
A few months later, Corroded Coffin is well established, about to release its first album. Robin goes to college and Steve and she move in together.
That's when other people start to find out who Steve is too. It starts with a post on Reddit, people speculating about him, which is the central theme of several songs, although none are as explicit about his identity as the first. His parents receive some hate mail, they make a point of sending it to the Buckleys and Steve finds out. What hurts the most is knowing that his parents never gave him any of his belongings, but they found a way to let him know that people he didn't even know hated him.
He gets some hate messages too, because, although he deleted his old accounts, the new ones are easy to find through the profiles of people who knew him before all this. So, they're probably students from school, people know what Robin's social networks are, finding him.
There isn't much hate coming his way because he's careful to keep to the shadows, and thankfully the speculation about Steve Harrington being responsible for breaking Eddie Munson's heart doesn't go that far, after all, there's nothing to keep fueling those theories.
One of the things that connected Eddie to Steve was music. I like to think of Steve as a musician, like Joe Keery is. If Eddie can pour out his anger through music, he can also pour his heart into it. He writes Unknown/Nth and posts it to an anonymous YouTube account. He sings with an acoustic guitar, without showing his face.
For a while, this feels like closure.
Steve still gets hate mail sometimes, even though he deletes the old accounts and creates new ones. Everyone in Hawkins seems to know about him and Eddie. The kids, who hated Eddie for a while, have reluctantly started to admire him again. Steve reassured them about this, but they all remained bitter about everything that happened.
Steve, for his part, has vacillated between hating Eddie and hating himself. Most of the time, he still feels like he maybe loves Eddie a little bit, as if he’s stuck on that last day they saw each other. Sometimes he blames himself for making the wrong decision. Other times he thinks that if he hadn't stayed in Hawkins, Eddie might never have made it big.
His feelings for Eddie are complicated.
So, about 5 years after the breakup, there's a documentary about the beginning of Corroded Coffin. Something not produced by them. Maybe by a fan? Who goes to Hawkins, talks to people, tells them about Steve, exposes Steve and it goes viral on social media.
His life goes to shit very quickly. Eddie doesn't even notice at first, because CC is on a world tour and they never have free time. Meanwhile, Steve becomes well-known on social media and gets some hate mail.
Things change a bit when someone, seeing old photos of Steve, posts on Reddit that they have a crazy theory: there's a song they've been listening to for years, that's a lost gem in the depths of YouTube and they swear that's Steve Harrington, because the moles match and you can see a Hawkins High jacket in the background. It's a pretty crazy theory, so it doesn't get much attention, but the song gains momentum.
Eddie finds out because, once he learned everything that happened, he started researching everything about Steve, trying to measure how much he ruined his life.
Assuming people find out that the song is really about Eddie, I think he could become the target of hate, almost as much as Steve did, because Unknown/Nth is a powerful song.
That's what I've thought, for now. They get back together in the end because Eddie's actions had terrible consequences, but he never meant to hurt Steve like that and the biggest culprits for everything that happened are his parents. The hate from the fans wasn't that intense until the documentary, so it was hard to notice.
Anyway, they have a long way to go. A talk to clear up their last fight, a lengthy apology from Eddie, reconnecting with the kids, getting back to being friends.
It would be terribly sad and difficult. It definitely wouldn't be a fairy tale, but they could learn to trust each other. Eddie could earn Steve's trust, affection, and friendship, and one day they could be a couple again.
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