#because i am a fucking failure- 😭

[simpingwriter]

Marcus Lopez from Deadly Class with a mysterious girl he met at 2AM in the night, in a suspicious alleyway, only to find out she's the daughter of a renowned American Diplomat and a highly influential politician?

Him, you know him, you love him: A very talented, orphaned and way too sarcastic for his own good Student at King's Dominion, training to become a killer (And a professional punching bag for his less nice classmates)

Her: Just like her parents, a prime target for the very same families that send their criminal offspring to study at Marcus' school. Golden CageTM + Kicks ass as a hobby/to keep her family safe

Both: Assholes in the making. Modern Romeo and Juliet in a sense.

That's it, that's the post. Simmer with those thoughts, it's gonna make a lovely stock for the Christmas duck.

[inniave]

healthcare providers don't be an asshole when a patient is having an issue with life preserving equipment challenge (impossible!!!!!)

[piplupod]

praying and hoping and begging for things to get better or at least more tolerable soon because i dont know how many more physical symptoms of stress my body can take

[theflyingfeeling]

aaaaaaaaaaaaa 😩

[alastors-wife]

jesus christ

[thecreelhouse]

crystal clear

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WC: 14k (i am so sorry)

Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.

This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!

CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!

A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.

“Is it weird yet?”

The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.

You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.

“Isn’t this kinda weird?”

The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?

Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.

“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”

 “So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”

You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.

Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.

You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.

“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”

Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.

He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.

“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”

“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”

Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.

“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.

“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”

Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”

You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”

He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”

“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”

“I’ll tell you.”

“Immediately?”

“Immediately. I swear.”

You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about. 

He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”

“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.” 

“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”

You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”

Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”

“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”

With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”

You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”

“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”

Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself.  “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”

Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”

“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”

Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.

Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?

“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”

“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”

Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”

“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.

Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.

“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.

You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.

“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.

“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.

“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”

When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”

“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”

“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”

 “I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.

“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”

Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.

You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”

“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”

Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.

···························

A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.

In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests. 

What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.

Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.

All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.

“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”

You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.

“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears. 

Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”

His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”

“What are you talking about?”

“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”

Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?” 

You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”

Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”

So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.

It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes. 

“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”

You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”

Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.

Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.

“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.

Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.

Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.

One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—

“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”

You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”

He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.

“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”

The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.

You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.

When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.

He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.

Steve just fucking shrugs.

“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.

You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”

As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”

“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”

“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”

You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.

“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”

Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.

“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”

You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”

“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”

You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.

“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”

“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.

“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”

That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.

“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”

He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.

”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.

What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?

There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.

Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”

Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.

“You can look, y’know.”

Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—

Wait.

You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.

You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”

Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.

“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.

“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”

“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”

Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.

“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.

He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.

“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.

Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.

“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”

Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.

You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?

Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”

Apparently, you think out loud now.

“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.

Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”

You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”

He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.

Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?

“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter. 

“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”

“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.

“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”

So much for that.

It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”

You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”

His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—” 

“That’s a compliment, I promise!” 

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. 

“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break. 

“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.

Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.

Two can play that game.

You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.

“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”

In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes. 

You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls. 

As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”

Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”

His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.

While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole. 

He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.

You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.

“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.

Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”

With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.

You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.

···························

The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.

In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.

Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”

You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.

The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.

“Stevie…” 

“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”

You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”

“More,” is all you can rasp out.

“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.

“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 

“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.

“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.

His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.” 

It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly. 

Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”

As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.

···························

In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.

“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”

“So… put new batteries in?”

“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”

You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.

“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.

“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.

“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”

Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”

Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.

Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”

“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”

“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”

When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.

You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”

“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle. 

“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”

“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout. 

You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.

With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship. 

Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.

You’re just friends.

“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.

Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.

“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”

“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”

“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”

“You’re the worst.”

“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”

He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.

“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”

You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.

“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”

“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”

“I’m already touching you.”

“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.

Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.

“Okay, so what do you mean?”

Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.

“I didn’t say— ”

“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”

Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.

His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.

“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.

“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.

You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.

“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”

You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.

But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.

Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”

You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.

“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”

Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated. 

“Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is. 

“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you. 

What the fuck is he hiding?

“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.

“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”

You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”

One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.

“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”

Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.

This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.

In fact, you might like this the most.

“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before. 

“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.

“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.

“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.

It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.

Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”

You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.

“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”

It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.

“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”

Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.

By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.

···························

“Why am I taking the backroads again?”

“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”

Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks. 

“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”

You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”

“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”

“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”

“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”

“I do!”

You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.

“H- hey!”

You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”

“This- it’s just— unsafe.”

“Is that your only complaint?”

“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.

Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.

With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”

“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.

Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.

“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”

Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.

“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”

Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.

···························

It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:

This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.

Steve’s kissing someone else right now.

While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.

If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.

Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.

It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—

Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.

“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.

So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.

The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.

Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.

Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street. 

Harder to shake than a cold.

Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”

“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”

Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”

“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.

“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”

“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”

Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated. 

“Fuck you, Steve.”

He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body. 

“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again. 

Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.

Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.

“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.

An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.

“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”

“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”

Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.

“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.

Oh, god fucking dam—

“….. No?”

“You literally just said you got jealous.”

“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”

“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”

You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Should I just call you a brat instead?”

“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”

His face falls. “Why not?”

You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.

“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”

Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.

“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“

“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”

So much for your petty silence.

“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”

Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way. 

“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”

You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs. 

···························

Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.

He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.

When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.

Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.

You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.

Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep. 

Or so he thought.

As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.

“Stay?”

Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.

He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”

“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”

Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.

He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.

Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.

Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.

····································

When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache. 

“Fucking christ.”

You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.

Wait. Why am I here?

You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.

Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.

It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note. 

hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover. 

if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.

— steve ♡

While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.

We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.

It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?

Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.

Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.

“Family Vi— ”

“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”

“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.

“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”

She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”

“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.

“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”

“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”

“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”

“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”

It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”

“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”

“I— ”

“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”

Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.

“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”

You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.

Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.

Totally fine.

········································································

It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?

You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.

Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.

It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.

The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.

Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”

Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.

“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”

“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.

You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”

“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”

You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”

His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”

“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.

“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.” 

“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”

Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”

You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”

“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”

“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”

He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back. 

“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”

“Wait, what? Steve—”

“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”

“Okay, but— ”

“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”

Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.

“Stevie, listen—”

“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”

If only he’d shut the fuck up.

He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”

You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”

“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”

“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.” 

You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.

Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”

He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”

“You mean vibrator incident—”

“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”

“My head is not big!”

You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”

“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.

Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”

You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.

“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”

You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”

Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.

“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.

“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”

You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”

Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.

“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”

“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.

“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.

“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”

Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”

He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.

“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this. 

“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs. 

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”

You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.

“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”

You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”

“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”

A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”

“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”  A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”

“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”

Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.

He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.

Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.

Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.

“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”

You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”

“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”

“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”

You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”

“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.

His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.

It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself. 

Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”

“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”

A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.

“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”

Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.

Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.

Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.

You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.

He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”

“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.

“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.

“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.

“I love you, too.”

The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.

With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.

It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.

At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you. 

“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”

You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.

Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.

No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.

“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.

“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.

Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”

[lovebvni]

failure isn’t a result, it’s a mindset

i’m gonna b so for real w u guys i’m eating lunch w my friends rn n this is came to mind and i have to type it 💀💀💀 on my life u guys need to hear this.

failure, by simple definition is the absence of succes, or the absence of the results desired.

success, by simple definition, is the act of accomplishing a task, obtaining the results desired or reaching a milestone. another definition that came up is “the good or bad outcome of an undertaking”

11:11am rn btw <3

let me put it this way, i have 4 test today, right? and my goal i’ve set is to get an a on all of them. what would be success to me though? my grade not dropping below a b+ 💀 And i know that won’t happen because im doing something. im taking the tests, im working on them, im doing what i was told and processing the material.

that would be success to me, and i know it seems like the bare minimum since i am a straight A student (other than spanish 😭😭). it is the least i can do.

i feel like shifting is similar.

just do something, process the information and work for the best, even the least results. and base them off your past experiences, your past work, your past knowledge.

your past knowledge, experiences and work is literally just getting there and doing the fucking work (3:33 pm now bc uh…. i may have took all my tests 🙏🙏)

all you have to do is show up. that’s my point here.

you just have to do something, and the bare minimum isn’t failure, it is a step to success. and success isn’t always the desired outcome sometimes it’s just a step to it.

what i’m saying is just do something, show up, set an intention, and have the faith.

success is a mindset and a result.

set little goals of success. even if it’s just “let me set an intention tonight” then build on it. do one thing then either do the same thing the next and add something.

and even if you don’t get all the way to your goal, at least you did what you’re used to.

i don’t know what i mean 💀💀 bye yall

edit: what i was trying to say is have a baseline of success. if you take an hour to run a mile, take that fucking hour. at least you did it right? just don’t get BEHIND an hour, you know? try 59 minutes next time. and if it turns out to be 60 again, at least you didn’t sit there n hope and pray your endure got better. you tried to make it better.

that’s it 😭😭 sorry if u didn’t know what i meant at first

[infamous-if]

I don't know if you're serious with MC being a loser or not. Anons point out how MC is a wet rag then you either agree that MC is a loser or "defend" MC with (what you might think as) silly replies. Take for instance the post you just made.

What is it then? Because damn, why would anyone want to play as a character like MC. I don't want everyone to bow down to MC and worship the ground they walk on, but its difficult to not see MC as this world class fuck-up when even you, the author, are so flippant about them.

With how you respond to asks, I can't remember playing a game with an MC as pathetic as this one.

??????? Why would I be serious about MC being a loser if I have applauded MC’s perseverance multiple times. Have even defended MC’s with essays on how hard MC works and grinds just to make their dream come true with their best friends.

And how is MC a “world class fuckup”? 😭 What has MC done that would classify them as a fuck up? Not be famous right out the gate? They have a fanbase, a manager quit his job to manage them, and they’re on the biggest music show on TV right now. That’s far from being a fuck up, and they’re doing it at 26 years old which is super young.

I don’t think people realize how demoralizing the music industry could be, which is why some of MC’s thought process can skew a bit negative because the industry does value new and shiny things to commodify, but that’s not MC’s fault.

I’m confused on how this makes MC pathetic and a “fuck up” when they’re miles ahead of many people who try to achieve their dream.

The miscommunication lies in how seriously you take me calling MC a loser. I call everyone a loser. I’ve called Seven a loser. I call myself and my friends losers. If I’m not answering a question about the story and I’m being lighthearted with anons, you do not have to take my word as law! It’s just me making jokes, I promise.

I took the previous anon as MC seeing their band breaking up with seven leaving, their odds at BOTB not being very great, them being accused of cheating, and no one really being in their corner (right now) before as MC saying “we suck right now but I will keep going” and thinking “aw my little loser” that’s all. But it’s my fault, definitely, because that ask can be taken very different ways so I should be mindful of that next time.

Tone definitely doesn’t translate through text but I don’t actually think MC is a failure fuck up that you’re trying to imply. And I still don’t see how MC, in any way, is a fuck up.

Also, I am not a serious person by nature and I respond to humorous asks with equally humorous behavior but that’s on me. I tend to forget that people make take it differently.

[two-white-butterflies]

two white butterflies | d. targaryen

Description: He begins dating a singer, and you kinda hate the spotlight. Pairing: accomplished!daemon targaryen/singer!reader.

"How do you even open this?" you gruff while attempting to open the bottle of wine sitting aimlessly on your countertop. Daemon, your boyfriend of eight years, lets out a chuckle - watching with amusement while you struggle with opening the merlot. "If you need my help, tell me." he takes a casual sip of his black coffee.

His independent girl.

"I can do it," you encourage yourself while gathering all the strength you can muster in taking the cork off. It was supposed to be easy because of the tool - but it only made it feel harder. After a few more seconds of struggling, you finally give in.

You take a step towards him - poking his sides slightly and his attention is torn from the newspaper. "Can you help me?" you flash him those puppy eyes and he hums, taking the bottle and the unscrewer from your hands - opening the bottle with ease.

"Why are you drinking so early in the morning, princess?" he asked, returning his attention back to the newspaper. A small sigh escapes your mouth, remembering the current problem on your hands. "I feel like - I'm entering my flop era," you complain, pouring yourself a glass of wine. His eyebrows merged into each other.

"Meaning?" he inquired - not fully versed with the slang.

"I've finally reached the point in my career where no one gives a fuck about me." you breathed, remembering the speech that your manager gave about streaming numbers - and how you didn't have enough. "I give a fuck about you," he whispered, forgetting about the newspaper for a moment and wrapping his arms around you.

"I give a fuck about you too," you lean into his touch - and he begins to bury his face on the crook of your neck.

There was a niche part of the music industry that belonged solely to you - but with the revolutions in music, the fans have forgotten about you. They've forgotten about their aesthetic roots of americana.

"- I feel pressured right now, the label is counting on me to come up with songs." you rant, knowing that failure was about to follow you. This was about to be your fourth studio album - and everyone knows about the 'fourth' curse. "We'll come up with songs together," he promised, pressing a soft kiss on your collarbone.

He'd do everything to make you happy.

(your full name): 'White Dress' out at 12 AM EST. makeup by @archiemakeup photo by @professordaemontargaryen

1,239 comments 129,374 likes

tyronebelmonte: NO WAY BECAUSE THE GUY WHO TOOK THE PHOTO IS MY PROFESSOR 🤩

y/nworld: w'ere so excited 🧡

Another sigh escapes your mouth seeing the numbers on your instagram. Only a hundred thousand likes - nothing compared to the millions you had when you were starting out.

Daemon takes the phone out of your hands.

"Stop checking it," he commanded, closing your phone and settling it down the night table. He hates the way that your eyes held nothing but sadness in it nowadays. "- numbers don't matter, your voice and your songs sound amazing." he added - complimenting you and pressing soft kisses on your lips.

Part of the reason he fell for you - was because of your voice.

It was akin to a siren.

"I'm too old for this," you pout, burying your face in his chest.

It was nice when you were eighteen - but now that you were twenty-eight. You were 'nearing' expiration simply because they couldn't fetishize your age anymore.

"Darling, you're 28 and I'm 35 - you're too young for this. Believe me." he hummed, placing a strand of your hair away from your face.

spongebobmultifandom: Missing this era of Y/N L/N, now she's just 💀...ion wanna talk.

12,890 comments 234,912 likes

kingdomfall_7: she kinda looks too old now 😭

bitchesandbananas9123: I thought I was the only one lol

(your full name): if you don't have anything good to say, please keep your mouth shut. 😊

"A fucking hatepost has more likes than my actual post," you rant - throwing your phone loudly on the mattress. Tears began flowing out of your eyes while your lover does his best to comfort you. "Hey," he wrapped his arms around you - thinking that it would be enough to bring you to reality.

"If you want to run away from this - I have no complaints." he suggested, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Running away was going to be the bravest thing you've ever done.

y/nworld_whitedressera: "This is going to be the last song I sing for all of you. I had a fun time changing everything and writing songs that I shared, but this is the end of the line." - Y/N L/N while singing "Nothing New" in Taylor Swift's Eras Tour.

189 comments 177,003 likes

(your full name): Releasing the deluxe version of Blue Bannisters, with bonus song "Violets for Roses".

17,293 comments 1,369,203 likes

madelinediaz: I'm about to throw hands, who hurt mom?

y/nlover: NOT YA'LL MAKING MY AESTHETIC COCAINE PRINCESS QUIT HER JOB 😭 I DON'T WANNA GO BACK TO LISTENING TO RAP MUSIC

ShakiraFAN: The song is so sad, we're gonna miss you 🥺

Y/N L/N, WHERE IS SHE NOW?

The songstress had a blossoming career and a cult-like following, however she suddenly fell of the grid after her grammy winning song 'White Dress.'

According to insiders, the singer couldn't handle the hate that comes with fame - and the music industry's double standards.

She is currently married to Dr. Daemon Targaryen M.D. P.hD and is living in Spain. "I'm happier than ever and I'm still writing songs, but now - he's the only one allowed to listen." the former-singer reports.

y/nworld: ppl in her label say that there was supposed to be another album after "Blue Bannisters" named "Chemtrails Over the Country Club" AND WE DIDN'T HAVE THE CHANCE TO HEAR IT.

maybe_y/n: listened to her leaked album (toaster quality recording) and now the only thing i want is for it to be published (it never will)

part two is how to disappear

@watercolorskyy

[nyxie-e-e]

GAVIN QUOTES THAT I HAVE ROTTING IN MY NOTES APP BECAUSE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

S/N: He (along with Milo and Guy ofcc<33) is the reason why I know what healthy love looks like

- [ ] “How should I fuck you tonight?”

- [🥺 ] “What I want right now is for you to be happy”

- [ ] “You can do anything you want to me, Deviant”

- [😍 ] “Call it arrogance but i know my appeal just as i am”

- [ ] “I don’t want easy. I want to be a person. My own person”

- [🥺] “Being alive and living are two different things”

- [ ] “I might not check the box for every single person out there but I don’t want to”

- [ ] “You get to decide which parts of yourself you get to share with other people”

- [ ] “I don’t take that trust lightly and it is reciprocated”

- [ ] Thank you for trusting me… and for letting me know that I’m fucking another guy’s charge”

- [🥺😭♥️] “You can set the world down now. That doesn’t make you a failure that doesnt make you weak there isn’t a finish line you didn’t get to, there is just your life stretched out ahead of you. There are people in your life who care about you”

- [🥺😭♥️ ] “We’re here for you. I’m here for you” *hugs* it’s gonna be okay you’re okay. You don’t have to be everything for everyone. You matter to and it is not selfish to admit that”

- [ ] “This is not you breaking this is you taking control. This is you redefining your circumstances instead of letting them control you”

- [ ] “It’s time to start living”

- [ ] “I know I’m awful but would you want me if I was anything else”

- [🥺 ] “You’re not alone. You don’t have to do this alone anymore”

- [😭 ] “You honor me by letting me see this side of you”

- [😭😭 ] “Because i don’t want the words the impact you’ve had on my life to go unheard”

- [☺️] “You know all of these things but i like saying them”

- [*crying cat meme*] “Cherished words that carry my love to you and hold you in blissful rest”

- [🥺] I want you to have peace, so my words bring you peace. It’s that simple and it’s nice for something to be simple for a change

- [🥺 ] But you held on. You made space. You asked me to step into that space.. no one ever asks me for that

- [🥺♥️ ] “You are loved and loving and what you do matters so very much”

My love🥺

[prince-liest]

Your last 666 series installment is the best thing that happened to me. Its full of gore, somehow fluffy and wait-.. do I finally see some FRICKING COMUNICATION between the two idiots!?!?!

Ngl, Vox's 'Alastor not being able to love' statement hurt my soul. Your writing is brilliant and and let's just see what ending ya wro-..O MA LORD IS THAT VAL'S LOVE POTION!?!?!?!?

Now I need to know what's next!!!! And VOX I SWEAR IF U USE THIS SITUATION IN ANY WAY IM GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE.

This series is a blast♡ love it!♡ makes me weirdly passionate and excited hah!

Some communication, and some communication failure, hahaha. They're going to be talking a lot more in the next one, actually, because I meant to write some NSFW and they had to go and attempt a healthy conversation instead. What can you do.

Thank you so much, I'm delighted that you're enjoying! :D

And: Way more anon asks about the latest 666 getting answered under the cut! <3 I combined a bunch from the last couple of days.

prince, I'm going insane over the latest fic. so we know from Alastor's inner monologue that he knows the roofie was an accident, but considering the super stressful situation, the fact that Vox was the one to ask for a kiss and the fact that Alastor accused him of wanting instead of loving him not a few minutes ago…. makes me wonder if Vox might not be at least a little worred that Alastor might think it was on purpose <3 gonna be rotating this in my head for the foreseeable future - ✨

I am so glad that these things are on y'all's minds, hahaha. Because you can bet they are on mine. >:D And THANK YOU, very pleased to be dragging everyone down into insanity with me.

“Should I stitch together the scars your teeth left in me in a mirror of my own signature on your body.” Fucking. POETRY. 🐈‍⬛

I am always so happy when I write shit like this and instead of everyone pointing at me and going, "Look, what an EDGELORD!" the response is you people being VERY nice and leaning into the feelsy fun! 💛

holy moly ??? i love the new 666 addition aaaah 😭🙏 the trials and tribulations of feeling scorned and ghosted by a loser who confessed his love to you and the next time you see him he’s holding your LITERAL heart in his hands by alastor ! OMFG this was too good esp the part where vox is like “bro why do YOU CARE ?? i thought you didn’t love me huh?” and alastor is like well. maybe i.do. 😐 LIKE CMONN this really played out like some soap drama and i loved the neat details on resuscitative thoroctomy (learned a new word too so double bonus) the fact vel was on the line w her and val’s apparent surgeon for val’a little ‘incidents ??? GOLDEN I SAYY hope we see more of ur oc … 🫣🫣 btw ofc vox would love to an end an argument with a kiss OF FUCKING COURSE HE WOULD 😭 thank u sm for this chapter princeliest my dear <3 hope life is treating u well too !! -🦌

Vox is ahead of Alastor in terms of effective in-the-moment conflict resolution, but goddamn if he isn't fucked up in his own fun little ways. They're so not done with most of these issues, but at least they're on they're way to maybe be able to have a real conversation about them!

You know. If they chose to do that kind thing. Instead of whatever they will probably do instead.

Anyway, THANK YOU!! I had a great deal of fun writing this chapter and digging into some of the issues that have been slowly collecting underneath the surface of kinky radiostatic, so I'm happy you guys are enjoying as well!! :D

AS FOR MY OC... I WILL POST ABOUT THEM SOON. I LOVE THEM A LOT AND IT EXCITES ME THAT PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW MORE OF THEM. Tysm for asking Q^Q

Just read the new addition to the 666 verse, and inside of me are two wolves: The first is saying: Immaculate, artistry of the highest form. We finally get Alastor’s own confrontation with his vulnerability and him trying to figure out what exactly the relationship with Vox means to him. Cannot wait for how this all is going to develop. The other part of me: THE BREADCRUMBS WORKED THE MUSE IS WRITING!!! Followed by this image (since tumblr won’t let me attach it while being anonymous) https://i.redd.it/hx2shk642vs71.jpg -🕊️

LMAO THAT PIC. Amazing, flawless, thank you. The breadcrumbs DEFINITELY worked, please keep feeding. Digging into Alastor's shit is bringing me life and I'm happy to share it, hahaha. We're swinging even harder on the introspection in the next one!

As a sucker for medical gore and aroace angst, I lack the words to express my love and appreciation for your most recent installment of 666, but your writing of radiostatic's dynamic was captivating and proved to be such a lovely read as always! I loved that you touched on Alastor's relationships with the women around him as that has always been such an interesting aspect of his character to me! I never really put much thought into how Vox's apparent avoidance of Alastor in the show could mirror Alastor's disappearance, and now it will Not leave my mind. My heart hurts for these two dorks, super looking forward to chapter 2!

"Medical gore and aroace angst" should be the title of my memoir. Honestly, this series has ended up a lot more edgy-bloody than I expected it to, since I usually tend to prefer to portray my whump/angst/violence/etc in a much more roundabout way, but it's actually kinda tipped over into, like... part of the point is how banal it is, how beside the point. The upsetting heavy-hitting bits aren't the blood, they're everything else that goes on around it. Anyway, thank you so much! <3 I think your heart will find some relief in chapter two, haha, I hope you enjoy!!

Meanwhile alastor, completely convinced that there’s no situation where vox actually loves him and is happy with the way things are—either vox wants more and is going to start asking for more, or he doesn’t actually love him and just wants to have sex with him and thus either way he is a Liar. They’re so fucking bad at this. No one is capable of being the adult here. I think they need an auspitice.

It's really funny that you said that, because that is kind of exactly the role that [spoiler] ends up playing, though in a more roundabout way, hahaha. They certainly need someone to, like, get them to be having the same conversation with each other instead of two parallel ones. I think the fun thing about writing Alastor reacting to his own feelings is just how much his reaction can change based on how things are framed for him, and it leaves a lot of wiggle room for how differently I've ended up writing him reacting to the season 1 finale in 666 vs in Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy.

But, god, you really nailed the description of what Alastor is feeling. <3

Vox in the latest 666, my ENTIRE HEART. Literally nothing about how he read the situation was a bad take or a leap to conclusions, but alastor constantly says the opposite of what he means and refuses to admit vulnerability or friendship and what the hell else was vox meant to do with that, of course he backed off, they need to have this talk so badly

YES, PRECISELY! Like, I hope it came through that really neither of them was completely crazy to react the way they did! It's a result of how much of their communication has been nonverbal, implied, and talking around things - they'd been doing so well up until this point, but there's only so far that can take you before you start thinking that you're on the same page when really you're reading two completely different books! Thank you sm! <3

‘But I am capable,” Alastor says gently. “I love you very much.” Vox gapes up at him. “...I. Fuck you.” His voice is tight, strained. “I don’t fucking believe you.” Alastor feels his smile thin. “Well. That’s just dandy, then, isn’t it?”’ I AM NOT OK GOING FUCKING FERAL

Probably one of my favorite lines to write, ehehehe. THANK YOU ANONNNN <3 It's kinda interesting to see how differently some people read this. Some folks thought Alastor was saying it to hurt Vox (which is how Vox read it). Some folks thought it was true (how Alastor intended it). Some folks thought Alastor was trying to fit into the mold that he thought Vox wanted from him (how I intended it). All of them make sense as readings! >:)

[eulchu]

ok guys. let's have a real talk. let's ALL have a real talk and i don't mean just me and my anons . i hope this reaches all of our community even if you think i fucking suck.

fucking october didn't ruin us but i am so worried that this dumb tension just might. this is getting so ridiculous and out of hand -i barely understand what's going on myself. so im gonna need everyone to work together and do a collective reflection exercise.

i am gonna write out a series of points that i need u guys to think about before proceeding in this community:

- active blogs. you're burnt out. you're burnt out and you're so tired of trying to keep this community running that you're denying yourself a moment to feel your own frustrations as your own individual person. i get that . i get being under so much pressure that you can't catch yourself some slack, least you spiral out of control <- this is, however, really damn unhealthy 😭 it's ok to let yourself feel some disappointment!! some anger!! that's fine. it's up to you, however, what you do with it. this brings us to our next point.

- we NEED to acknowledge this if we wanna get better. ifl it's taboo and we're pushing the narrative so hard we're not giving ourselves enough space to breathe. it. is. okay. to. feel. disappointed. over. the. lack. of. dteam. content. i am the first person to shut down any self entilted prick who thinks they can expect something out of them. because they DON'T owe us anything. but truth is we are humans and, accordingly so, feel in consequence of our own expectations. i wanna break this part down in a few points:

it is OKAY to acknowledge that we are disappointed. denying one self's feelings never ended up ok for anyone. it is okay to acknowledge that we are not getting the content we were hoping for.

it is NOT okay to blame the dteam for it. this is where it gets tricky. the dteam are in charge of what type of content they put out. it will never be in our hands. at that point, if you don't like what they're doing. leave. i'm sorry. it's harsh. i'm not trying to be mean about it. i'd understand if you left! it's ok!

- before you leave, though, i want to ask you a question. why do dislike what they're doing so much? seriously, ask yourself that question. is the content that bad, in your eyes? if the answer is yes, i can't help you there. you've grown out of their content. there's no way around it.

- but is it actually bad, or is it just Not What You Expected? In which case, let's talk. Let's put things bluntly:

the dteam have waited years to be together. correct

upon living together, we have discovered that they are not very good at providing content because they put their friendship above content. i'm not sure if anyone had that in their bingo cards - but it's what happened. autumn was really rough on them & they've learnt to exist together off camera. me personally, i think it's sweet.

dteam and traveling: a fall out? :o . no. jesus christ 😭 the fact that this is the new narrative nauseates me. i don't think anyone in their right mind thinks that dteam are less close than they were when they were living apart.

Bringing back our initial point, the failure to meet our expectations can be mentally challenging. it will inevitably make us second guess a lot of associated ideas that we thought were true . if one of our expectations fails to be met, that's a fail in our mental plan. if we were wrong about this, who's to say we are right about anything else?

i'm not sure if there's some sort of denial of feelings here or if people are trying really hard not to think about this possibility because it makes them scared. i am inviting you to take a moment to really think about it and feel the initial dread of the question. it will pass fairly quickly.

the truth is that the dteam is FINE. they're fine, they share a house, they film videos together, and they go on these long ass hiatus when they're together because they would much rather spend uncesored time off-line.

my favorite point: for how parasocial we are, we don't give them nearly enough credit. the dteam are adult men. we have to put faith in their decisions. only they know what they're doing. they know what's best for them. we certainly don't.

- i wanna rescue this last point. their decisions are THEIRS. if we don't put trust in what they're doing, we're already failing the game. that means who they hang out with too. i get not liking someone ok? i get it. i don't like a lot of people either. no one is pointing a gun to any of their heads. if you think that any of them is doing something that you don't see fit you have problems and you need to grow up. it is not our place to dictate their lives and it will never be. that goes for the white-knighting too.

⚠️(this is a completely hypothetical scenario)⚠️

the truth is if tomorrow george decides to go back to the uk, for whatever reason. we would all have to fucking shut it. fan disappointment? yes. acting like george is an awful person for betraying his best friends? you're out of your fucking mind.

dream george and sapnap are grown up people with a strong friendship and communication skills. if you think that george would take the unilateral decision and not tell anyone until the day before you need to seek help. whatever decision the dteam take about their lives it's THEIRS and you need to put some fawking faith in what they're doing. they know what's up.

that goes for the fucking karl problem too okay? i don't like it either. whatever. it's not my place though?? dream isn't a baby who's been abandoned he's a grown ass man who knows what he's doing and if he still considers (if they ALL do) karl his friend that's his decision. if he thinks that karl's friendship management is fine that's his decision. we are not dream's friends nor his fucking therapist.

- the thing about dooming and content. the multishippers: is the dteam all there really is? i firmly believe that we all kove the dteam outside of each other. (mostly tackled in this post)

- dnf and the fandom. jesus christ i can't believe i have to make a point about this. i think it's important to remember that at the end of the day. it's just Not That Serious. it was never meant to be that serious. bringing back the "they're their own people" point, what the Fuck do some people think they're doing 🧍‍♂️

dnf know what they're doing they know the nature of their relationship better than we ever will. if they're just friends it's because they chose to if they . in the biggest plot of the century . come out of this with a s/o it doesn't mean they're cheating on each other, that dream/george was leading anyone on or that they're hurting each other???? are you CRAZY 😭 if they're dating they're dating if they're not they're fucking not but they're. not gonna be sad about it??? they're adult people in an adult relationship they know what tf they're doing. they hold each other's hearts impossibility close to themselves. there's nothing they would ever do that could hurt each other.

to wrap things up: after this reddit worthy post (congrats if you've made it to the end) i have something very important to ask of you guys.

i know it might be unfair but can we all compromise on detoxxing. completely. for like, a week. not posting neg at ALL. we can't enable doomers we can't enable bait anons. neg is only good for one thing: make anxious people paranoid as fuck.

so can we. for like a week. just not post anything /neg at all. can we block the worst of it. the unnecessary dooming. and not acknowledge at ALL. i get it's a huge mental toll on the active blogs - reading so much negativity SUCKS but i do believe that it's a better option than responding and enabling more people to send similar asks.

me personally, i am already saying it here: any dooming will get blocked in my askbox. i won't hate you for it. but this IS a warning that you need to get your shit together if you ever wanna have a chance at speaking in my askbox ever again.

um congrats if you read everything?😭 PLEAAAASE let's all make this place a better place again i know we can do it

U CAN ADD TO THIS POST IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY BTW !!!

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

When the pendulum swings

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

FT: JJ Letho

Most angsty fic yet! Michael is Mika's forbidden fruit in this Romeo and Juliette kind of thing. So sorry for portraying JJ like a schizophrenic monster (it was a plot necessity) 😭😭. This fic is for the lovely and amazing @kimizilla and @schumi-honey 💝

Tears were welling up in his eyes as he stared through a blurred vision at the young man that was currently crushing his wrist bones in a white-knuckled grip.

The guy could be his twin. He had long blonde wavy locks of hair and deep saphire blue eyes, but Jyrki was two years his senior. Mika looked up at him. Of course he did, the Sauber driver had been in Formula One for five years now, long before Mika entered the competition. Keke had been managing him as soon as the 1982 World Champion had noticed the tall blonde's driving style. With Mika Keke had needed a bit more convincing.

Jyrki towered over his younger compatriot, squeezing his delicate wrist in a viselike grip. He just knew that the pendulum was swinging before his mind's very eyes, between loving and hating the boy sitting in front of him. Especially his latest suspicions had contributed to hating Mika. He had noticed Keke's favouritism shifting to his younger, less experienced countryman since he was signed by McLaren, and he hated it. It was undeserved. Mika was a fucking test driver.

He stared at the boy he once so loved with contempt. "Why the fuck are you crying?! You didn't even drive today! I should be crying after that DNF!"

The McLaren test driver, looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes and a trembling upper lip. He felt the bruising form along the skin of his wrist, colouring his flesh in all shades of red, blue and purple. "I am crying because you're hurting m-"

Jyrki interrupted him by swatting his cheek, leaving a red imprint on his already rosy skin. "Shut up! You have no reason to cry! Does a little bit of physical pain make you cry?! You're more beautiful when you smile."

Beautiful... That was exactly the problem to Jyrki. As much as he had started to hate the younger Finn since his McLaren deal, he couldn't deny Mika was stunningly beautiful. He just couldn't completely destroy his self-esteem and drag him through the mud, because he looked so pleasing to the eye, especially when he smiled.

But something about seeing Mika reduced to tears, helped him cope with his own meager successes on the track. It reminded himself that he was appearing at the start of a race ever Sunday, while his little boyfriend was driving circles and straight lines on air strips in Woking, England.

He fisted his hand in Mika's blonde hair and caressed it gently, confusing the younger Finn with the contrast in his touches. He let go off Mika's wrist and grinned upon seeing the purple, pulsing skin he had caused.

"Don't you wish you were competing with the big boys, my sweet?"

He pushed Mika down onto the mattress of the bed in his motorhome, and shoved a hand under the younger Finn's sweater, exploring the smooth skin of his flat tummy. "You are a failure. A beautiful perfect failure. Sometimes you make me so happy to see you."

Mika wiped at his tears with his sleeve and smiled at Jyrki despite the pain in his wrist. He didn't mind Jyrki calling him a "failure" as long as he called him "beautiful" too. At the start of the season he hadn't made his boyfriend proud with that McLaren gamble, and he deserved being called a "failure", right?

The pain in his wrist was numbing with every caress of his hair and every kiss Jyrki placed on his forehead.

The next morning while McLaren was packing their materials for return to England, Mika had found a moment to talk to his childhood rival. Michael was dressed in his Benneton-issued clothing. He was in good spirits as he had celebrated another podium last night. The contrast between the two of them couldn't be any bigger.

"So any speculations about Andretti's seat? He had another DNF this Sunday."

Mika shook his head. "Not that I know of, but I am getting tired of testing his car so he can destroy it the next race."

Michael chuckled. "I can imagine." He knew things would be different for Mika, if they would sack Andretti. Who knows? Maybe they would be battling it out on track, just like the old times. He looked Mika up and down and couldn't help but notice a hint of sadness in the Finn's eyes. "Are you ok?"

Mika's eyebrows knit together in a puzzled look. "Yeah, I am fine. Why?" His left hand went up to comb the locks of hair from his eyes.

Michael's eyes fell on the bruised skin of his rival's wrist and swallowed. Concern was written over his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Michael didn't hesitate and reached out to grab Mika's wrist, cradling it in a gentle hold. "What is this then? This doesn't look good."

Mika gulped. The concerned look in Michael's eyes and the gentle hold of his wrist filled him with a sudden warmth. He wasn't used to someone caring about his feelings, which was strange because he had a boyfriend that was supposed to care about him... somewhere deep down. Mika tried to ignore the traitorous thoughts in his mind. Michael couldn't know, he shouldn't know. It would only complicate things between Jyrki and him more.

"Oh that's nothing. It's not even broken. I had a little unicycle accident, and now Ron has taken my unicycle from me." It was only half a lie, because Ron Dennis did hide his unicycle somewhere.

Michael chuckled. Ah yes the unicycle! How could he forget? "No, he didn't?!"

"He did!" Mika exclaimed, his bright blue eyes beaming with glee over Michael's amused reaction. "But it's okay, Jyrki thinks it's stupid and childish anyway."

Michael frowned upon hearing that, and was boggled about the fact that Mika was still smiling despite the thing he just said. "Stupid? Childish? How? I think it's... special." Michael only just managed to refrain from saying "cute".

Mika blinked with his eyes. "You think so?"

Michael nodded. "Yes. Who else in the paddock can ride a unicycle?"

Mika blushed. That warmth in his heart - that foreign feeling - was back again. "Thank you!" He stared at Michael with gleeful eyes until, out of nowhere, he was harshly yanked away from the German by a furious Jyrki Järvilehto.

"Come with me," the older Finn growled at him as Mika was dragged towards the Sauber motorhome of his boyfriend, leaving an astonished Michael Schumacher in his wake.

Jyrki slammed Mika against the wall inside his trailer, pinning his injured wrist against it. "What the hell was that?!"

Mika cowered under the furious glare of his boyfriend and tried to wriggle out of the viselike hold. "What do you mean?" He whimpered.

Jyrki flat-handed the wall next to Mika's face with a loud bang, trying to scare the younger Finn even more. "Don't act dumb! You were talking to Michael."

"Am I not allowed to talk to him?"

"You were showing him your bruises!" Jyrki squeezed the injured wrist with brute force and made Mika burst out in tears of pain.

"I saw him holding your wrist. And don't you dare lie to me."

Mika could here the crackling sound of his wrist joints shoving against each other. He looked at Jyrki with teary eyes. "I am so sorry, Jyrki. But I didn't show it to him. He noticed it himself! I told him it was a unicycle accident."

"A unicycle accident?"

Jyrki's eyes softened in an instant. "You did that? You lied for me?" He stared at Mika's distressed face and almost purred contently. He loved to hate him, but he also loved to love him. His adorable pouty punching bag.

He stroked Mika's damp cheek with the back of his hand, enjoying the sight of his expressive face. He'd never thought someone could look pretty while crying like a toddler. He opened his arms to invite his shaking boyfriend in a hug. "Don't cry like that, weakling. I didn't mean it so bad."

"I am sorry, Jyrki." The younger Finn nestled himself in Jyrki's open arms and sighed, relieved that he wasn't angry with him anymore. Jyrki had played his part in getting Keke to manage him and he felt very grateful towards his handsome compatriot.

Jyrki stroked Mika's back with genuine adoration. He secretly loved seeing his boyfriend upset so he could take care of him. He loved feeling the tremors running down the boy's spine. He loved kissing his pouty lips. So vulnerable, so dependent.

He held the younger Finn for a while, but then created a distance between the two of them as a malicious smirk krept onto his face. He grabbed Mika by his upper arms and smacked him against the wall again. "But if I ever find out you are bad-mouthing me to other drivers..." He held his finger up to Mika. "I am going to make you cry even worse."

He kissed Mika's forehead and traced his cheekbone adoringly with a finger. He looked at him for a moment. The younger Finn stared back apathically, obvioulsy not sure what to do.

Again Jyrki's brain flooded with images of Keke meandering around his new favourite protege, and he gritted his teeth in anger.

Mika needed to go before the pendulum would swing in his disadvantage.

Painfully aware of his mind playing tricks on him, Jyrki barged to the door of his motorhome. "Now go. I think McLaren want to know where their untalented test driver is."

Mika's cheeks burned red in shame. Untalented test driver? Where had it gone so wrong in their relationship? He touched his throbbing wrist and hissed in pain. Why was Jyrki so mean to him lately? He thought about the good times he'd had with Jyrki. There were way too many good memories to put his relationship at risk. His fellow Finn had been nothing but kind and supportive throughout his F3 days.

Jyrki used to shower him with love all the time. He always told him how proud he was after he had beaten Mika Salo on track in Formula 3. Mika even remembered how Jyrki had consoled him after his huge crash at Snetterton while competing in the F3-series. He was quite shocked in the aftermath of the event and he had been lucky to walk away from it without a scratch. Jyrki had wrapped him up in a blanket cocoon and had made him tea and hot chocolate.

"Are you nice and comfy, my sweet?" Jyrki lay on top of the blanket cocoon with his arms wrapped around it like an octopus, for extra protection. "You know the crash wasn't your fault, my talented kultaseni!" He kissed the top of Mika's head.

It brought Mika to tears when he remembered how it once was. Why had it changed? What had he done wrong?

Behind the door of his motorhome Jyrki had his own internal crisis. He had his hands in his hair and tugged at his blonde strands harshly. Why the fuck had he turned into such a monster?! How did he ever call sweet, endearing Mika untalented?! He detested his own anger issues, his jealousy, his toxic pleasures! He had found joy in seeing Mika cry, in seeing his wrist pulsing in pain! All this because he was Keke's favourite now? Yes, because he knew that if it wasn't for Senna's return Mika would have raced in that McLaren, and he would have wiped the floor with him and his stupid Sauber.

He needed to call his beloved before his terrible schizophrenia took the better of him. Before that cursed pendulum would swing again. Jyrki was sure he wasn't actually schizophrenic, but his career in F1 was giving so much stress that he had to abreact it on the person he had valued most, for so long.

He was a broken soul, and he was breaking another soul in his demise.

Mika's phone started buzzing. He looked at the screen of his device and pressed the red button. Not now! Too soon! He shoved his phone back in his pocket and conjured up a handkerchief from his other pocket to dry his tears. He felt devastated. His beloved mistreated him, but he didn't want to lose his relationship.

Jyrki threw his phone on his mattress with force, making the device almost boink off the bed. How dare Mika have the guts to turn his phone call down?! Who did he think he was?! He needed him. He needed to love him and show him how much he meant to him.

Mika walked along the garages in the paddock, while the teams were finishing packing their stuff. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the early autumn scents, until he was interrupted by a shout.

"Mika, how is your wrist?"

The Finn turned around and was met with the kind, emerald eyes of his childhood rival.

"Michael!" Mika looked around waringly, to make sure Jyrki didn't see him, before he showed Michael the tortured skin of his wrist.

"Scheiße! What the hell? It looks worse! Mika, how could it look worse!?"

Mika bit his lip. He admired Michael's concern, but he couldn't just tell Michael that Jyrki had been torturing his wrist as if it was a crash dummy's wrist. He shrugged. "I think the bruises hadn't fully bloomed yet this morning."

Michael shook his head. "Come on." He grabbed the Finn gently by his arm and guided him to his Benneton motorhome a few meters away from where they were standing. "You can't walk around like that. Someone needs to take care of that, and since you are not looking for help yourself, I will do it!"

Back in Michael's motorhome, Mika was glad there were no halve moon-shaped cuts on his wrist from Jyrki's nails, otherwise the truth would come out quite quickly, as Michael would definitely want to know who had done that to him.

Michael sat Mika down on his bed and walked to his kitchen to fetch his first aid kit. "Don't you go anywhere."

Mika rolled his eyes with an amused grin.

Michael returned quickly and put the first aid kit on the bedsheets between them. "Now let me look at that." He took Mika's hand between his own warm hands and inspected his hurt wrist with great intent.

"Gosh, that looks painful! Even I am happy Ron took your unicycle away," he chuckled.

Mika couldn't help but grin. He felt butterflies buzz in his stomach, overwhelmed by the way Michael was so tender with him. Mika thought he was just a break-up with Jyrki away from being cocooned in blankets the same way his boyfriend had done in 1989. Although breaking up with Jyrki was something that had never crossed his mind. He was smitten despite everything.

Mika watched as the German massaged some salve into his skin and grabbed a pack of ice cubes from his fridge to hold it against his throbbing wrist.

"It won't do anything against the swelling anymore. It's too late for that, but still... Are you sure it isn't broken?"

Mika nodded. "Don't worry, I can still use it."

Michael grabbed Mika's hand and looked into his saphire blue eyes with a glint of genuine worry. "Be careful next time!"

Mika's cheeks turned bright red. Why was Michael so kind to him? What did he do to deserve that?

He smiled at Michael. "I will." He stood up from the bed and took his leave, but not before stopping in the door opening and seeking eye contact. "Michael, thank you! That was very kind!"

Luck would have it that Mika was back on neutral ground before he heard another, more familiar voice shout his name.

"Mika! I was looking for you, my sweet!"

Jyrki grabbed the Finn by the sleeve of his puffy jacket and enveloped him in his arms.

"God, I am so terribly sorry for this morning! I don't know what got into me!"

Mika patted Jyrki's back, feeling especially forgiving after his moment with Michael a few minutes ago. "It's okay now."

From the inside Mika felt so relieved that the older Finn had apologized so he could share a happy moment with his boyfriend. He leaned his head onto Jyrki's shoulder and smiled.

Jyrki cradled Mika's face between his hands and found that Mika's beautiful smile was out of place. He was way too pretty to lose, but he made him sick to the stomach with that happy smile. Keke's favourite pupil! He was conflicted between kissing that smile and erasing it from his boyfriend's face.

"Come, Mika." He took his boyfriend to his motorhome once more and sat him down on the bed. His adoration for the boy won at the moment. The pendulum was swinging in his favour.

"If only you were as good a driver as good-looking you are!" He helped Mika out of his sweater and kissed him on his lips. "You're beautiful." He sloppily kissed his way down Mika's neck and arm until he halted at his purple-coloured wrist.

"What is that stuff I smell?"

Mika froze on the spot and swallowed. "What do you mean?"

"That is oitment, perkele! Who gave that to you?! Who knows about your wrist?!"

Mika squinted his eyes shut, expecting a swat in his face. A swat that never came.

"Mika, were you with Schumacher again?!"

He stared at the younger Finn, who's lips seemed to be sealed. Mika's silence told him enough. He grabbed Mika by his arms and shook him harshly. "How dare you break my heart like that! You fucking loser! You probably also lied about that unicycle accident you made up!"

He gave Mika a harsh shove towards his door and threw his sweater at him. "You stupid boy! You wouldn't even be in F1 if it weren't for me! You're worthless. Look at you! Testing cars on airstrips! Get out! I don't want to see you ever again!"

Mika was shocked. His eyes started to water in an instant. His heart was shattered in a million little pieces. Here it was... proof that Jyrki never truly loved him!

"But Jyrki... JJ...I didn't...," his lips were trembling as tears streamed down his cheeks. This is not how it was supposed to go. Why was his boyfriend so... so... insane recently?!

Jyrki walked up to him and started smacking his face with flat-handers. "I don't care about your stupid pretty face getting hurt! Go away, Mika! Maybe Schumacher can help your pathetic career in Formula One. I hate you! You are always flirting with other drivers!"

Mika tried to limit the impact of Jyrki's swats by bracing his arms. "That isn't true! They are friends!"

"Leave my fucking place before I really hurt you!" Jyrki stormed into his direction again. "And I am serious about your career. You truly are a shit driver and a dumb, stupid boy! I will make sure Keke ditches you!"

For the last time this weekend Michael walked around the paddock. But this time he was holding an umbrella to protect himself against the sudden downpour of rain. He was glad that this amount of rain hadn't fallen during the race yesterday. It would've made the race conditions quite tricky.

As he strolled past the Sauber motorhomes, he noticed a silhouet sitting on the steps of one of the trailers. The silhouet sat hunched forward with his face in his hands, seemingly not minding he was getting soaked. Oh dear, who is that?

With concern written over his features Michael walked towards the soaked figure, and as he came closer he was absolutely horrified to find out the person in question was Mika. His Mika. Reduced to tears.

The Finn was trembling like a sad little puppy, and when he noticed Michael towering over him, he buried his face in the sleeves of his sweater, hiding his emotions from the successful F1 driver.

Michael held his umbrella above his rival's head, as he sat down next to him. His hands carded through Mika's soaked blonde hair. "Hey Mika, what are you doing out here in the rain? What's wrong?"

Mika shook his head and muffled his cries in his sweater, not planning on revealing his crying face to Michael.

Michael scooted impossibly close to the Finn and put an arm around his shaking form, caressing his side through the soaked material of his sweater. Damn, he was cold to the touch!

"Hey, I guess you don't want to talk about it, but can I please invite you into my motorhome? I put the heater up and I have some dry clothes for you. I don't want you to catch a cold."

Finally, Mika looked up at him.

Even with the rain drops cascading down his face, Michael could see he was crying. It broke Michael's heart to see Mika's usually happy features, twisted in bitter emotions. It wasn't a good look on him.

He snaked an arm around Mika's waist and encouraged him to stand up and follow him to the warmth of his trailer, while the umbrella shielded them against the rain.

Upon arriving in the Benneton trailer, Michael started fetching warm and dry clothes from the drawers of his closet. He pushed the bundle of textile into Mika's hands and directed him gently but firmly to his bathroom.

"Take a shower. We will talk after you're warm and dry."

After twenty minutes, Mika quietly opened the door to the living space of Michael's motorhome and peeked inside. His cheeks were burning red because he was currently wearing Michael's Benneton-issued clothes and because the heat of the shower had warmed him up.

"Thank you, Michael. I hope your water heater isn't empty now."

Michael turned around to look at the Finn and found himself to be equally red and flustered. Mika in his Benneton clothes with pink-tinged cheeks was quite a sight to behold. A sight that made his heart skip a beat.

"Don't worry about the water heater. Are you okay, Mika?"

Mika's eyes filled with tears again when he was reminded of his broken heart by Michael's question. Was he okay? No, he definitely wasn't.

Michael jumped from his couch and rushed towards the Finn. His natural instinct took over. He needed to care for that hurt soul. "Please, don't cry! I don't like to see you cry."

He wrapped his arms around the boy and squeezed him so tightly against his body that their sternums were touching.

"Jyrki broke up with me and hurt my wrist!"

Mika let it all out... his tears, the truth... everything. His shoulders started shaking.

Michael grabbed the back of Mika's head and pressed the Finn's damp cheek against his own. "I already suspected this. You're way too talented to fall off your unicycle. Listen Mika..." he took Mika's face between both his hands and stared into his watery eyes. "...if JJ did this to you, then he doesn't deserve you!"

He dropped one of his hands to grab Mika's wrist and tenderly stroked his thumb over the bruised skin. How could someone hurt someone as kind and beautiful as Mika? "He doesn't deserve you, verdammt noch mal!"

Mika looked at him. His face was wet but the tears had stopped. His heart was racing. Every caress of his hurt wrist filled him with a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature inside the trailer. Michael was so gentle with him. The German basically treated him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. Shouldn't this be how you treat a loved one? The last time Jyrki had hugged him so adoringly was months ago.

"Jyrki called me a shit driver."

Michael balled his fists in anger. "You know, Mika. Your ex-boyfriend is nuts! The biggest bullshit I've ever heard. You will absolutely destroy him on track and he knows that! He is afraid of your talent. Afraid of Keke's favouritsm."

Michael had extremely well-developed senses when it came to unraveling human behaviour. JJ had probably been mistreating Mika since the McLaren-deal. It angered him beyond measure, and it didn't help that he secretly loved Mika.

"Mika, can I tell you something?" Michael's fingers fidgeted with the washing etiquette of Mika's Benneton-jumper. His cheeks were bright red.

"Of course, Michael."

Michael took Mika's hands in his own. "You really mean a lot to me. Your well-being is important to me... and there is something I've wanted to do ever since we met again in Formula One in 1991."

Mika's breathing slowed in anticipation. "What is it, Michael?"

"Close your eyes, and promise me not to recoil. Think about it before you act."

Mika closed his eyes and only twitched slightly when he felt Michael press his lips against his own. He didn't recoil, even if the action took him by surprise. He could never. Michael was special. Michael fueled the flame inside his body. Kindness was all he needed right now and Michael was giving that to him.

Michael tingled all over. His lips brushing against Mika's, was a better feeling than every kiss he's ever had. Nothing compared to it. "Thank you, mein Schatz!"

[total-drama-takes-the-squeakquel]

Revenge of the island was doomed from the start when the first character they introduced was jo. Like what the fuckkk at first I was like. Is that human like wtf 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 then girls first line is “stay out of my way if you value your kiwis” like girl you sound like 🤓🤓🤓 yk what I mean. Like bro Scott’s just chilling what did he do to you fuckface. They should’ve let Anne Maria hair spray jo to death of something but wtffff jo u r not the main character 😭😭😭😭 then let’s talk about this bitchs behavior is the goddamn intro. Girls punching a punching bag in the middle of the woods (whime did you get that). Cameron is almost killed and blasted off into space and jo catches him and does one good thing for humanity then immediately after just tosses him onto the ground  to go chase after brick???? WTF we get it ho ur not like othim girls and u wanna be one of the boys sooo badly 😭😭😭 stfu what did brick even do to you. His first words to u were ma’am because he’s a fucking simp and rides him dick 24/7 like why be so mean to himmm. Goofy ass. Then he’s on the beach racing with brick and almost driving him into cardiac arrest like bro don’t kill him. Ik ur heartless and all but girllll no one asked 🥴🥴🥴 brick should’ve beaten the shit out of him. Out of my way triathlete coming thru 😈😈😈😈😈🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓 omg I’m so scared 😱😱😱😱😱 go away. Literally no one asked girl. he almost drowns Zoey and Staci just to be number one like broooo ur actually done this time . Then launches himself off Sam to do a flip like girl u are not the main character. I’d rathim go thru 60 episodes of zoke and commando Zoey than watch jo every again. S4 was literally so bad and I blame it all on him. Then he’s pissed at dawn for getting to shore quicker BABE TAKE A CHILLPILL GODDAMNN….. wish dawn could’ve owned him and exposed him or smth idk. Make him feel ashamed. No wonder lightning thought u were a man like bro Shut up guys are annoying and so are you 😭😭😭😭 so I consider him just as bad as one. Lightning should’ve kept misgendering him I found it funny. “Sorry you had to lose to a girl 🤓🤓🤓🤓” wow you’re so fucking different!!! Do you want a medal too. Lightning should’ve beat his ass on the spot and I wish Chris ran him over with his little go cart. Sooo glad Scott found the invincibility statue because if jo didn’t get eliminated ep10 I would’ve straight up killed myself fr 😭😭 like no joke I’d hang myself from the ceiling. he’s always so grumpy too wtfffff. he should’ve got mutated instead of Dakota I’m not even kidding. Calling squirrels stupid is also lowkey kindaaaaa 😐😐 look at yourself Joey 😭😭 you’re not any hotter. he looks like one of those inbred lion/tiger hybrids you know what I mean. That gamer indent isn’t cute eithim….. 😬😬😬😬 thought you were an athlete. That’s embarrassing!!! Now ur skull is permanently mutated that’s so cringe. Then he laughs at lightning getting hit in the head and then gets trampled by a trampoline LMAO glad that bitch got him karma. Brick did nothing to help him in that moment and he’s so real for that tbh. Should’ve kicked dirt onto his head but whatevvvssss 😐😐😐😐. “All right let’s do this 🤪🤪🤪” and then falls into the water LMAOOOOOOO failure!!!!! Imagine 😭😭 like girl I thought you were a pro athlete thime’s no way ur real. Notice he’s smiling at Anne Maria getting hurt when hitting the bottom of the totem pole Everytime. That’s the same state Jeffrey Dahmer gave his victims before he killed them and ate them. he’s a psychopath I’m not even kidding. Then he kicks the trampoline out from under AM like UMMMM???? At least try to help him jfc. Toxic rats was the best team bc they don’t have jo. “Good grief 😐😐😐” corny ahhh line. Chester should’ve beaten the shit out of him too tbh 😭😭😭😭 I wish so hard that he died when he fell down that wayerfillll like aughhhshshsgwuwjwjjjebns.

If the maggots lost they def would’ve voted out Jo or smth but nooo he has plot armor ong 😭😭😭😭😭 I’d rathim listen to a podcast made by Staci than listen to Jo’s corny ass nicknames. Then he has to go how’d they get in front of us!!!! Like MAYBE… this is a wild suggestion too. Maybe you’re…. A SHIT TEAM LEADER 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱 crazy I know. Brick should’ve beat him ass in that thumb wrestle but jo just tries killing him like jfc. Instead of a thumb wrestling contest they could’ve done an idk. Ummm like whoever can hit the othim upside the head with the a rock the hardest idk. And brick could’ve won and DESTROYED that ho. I’m not good at making suggestions. And everyone coming at me in the replies how’s it feel to be wronggggg 😁😁😁😁 y’all need to stop dickriding jo asap idk. he’s not that good. he let him team to crashing into that cabin like bro stop trying to kill everyone lmao. Jo kinda dresses like those homelsss ppl u see on the side of the highway with those goofy “if you love god donate to me!!!” signs. Idk girl just get a new wardrobe or smth. Brick would help you but since you’re such a shithead he’s not helping u lmao cope and seethe 😙😙😙😙 he probably smells like axe deodorant too lmao imagine. 

Erm yeahhh I’m done. Idk what to call my anon. Jater because I am a jo hater!!! Maybe I’ll rant about her in episode 2 because he rlly got on my nerves that episode but he also gets on my nerves every episode sooooo 😒😒😒😒 bye xoxo. You’re mad because you know I’m right 😘😘😘😘

-

[moss-on-a-pebble]

your atla swap au has me in its clutches. SO MUCH difference SO MUCH to think about !!! I would LOVE to hear some of your headcanons and how you feel the world has changed based on this swap 👀👀👀👀 I am STARVING and what you're serving is DIVINE

I’m glad you like it so much! As for the changes and headcanons this au provides, I have quite a few.

Zuko really wants to help his sister, but it’s very hard with his father looming over his shoulder 24/7 and he’s scared he’ll go back to being the ‘lucky to be bron’ failure of a prince. Azula just thinks he wants to humiliate her more and refuses his help. He’s also still the awkward teen we all know and love, but don’t fuck with him cuz he’s twice as terrifying in this au (yes he does have blue fire like canon Azula).

Despite his more gentle nature he becomes progressively more violent towards his sister as the story goes on. Eventually, after everyone’s betrayed him, he goes into his breakdown and believes everyone he’s ever known was just using him for their own gain.

Azula is also quite similar to her canon, plus a little crankiness and less confident. I didn’t really know what to do with her hair that didn’t make it look cursed so I kinda just left it like that for now😭

She’s much less homicidal than her canon counterpart, but she’s still not afraid to kill a man. She also becomes besties with Toph cuz I think those two would be good friends if they got along. But her true best friend is Ty Lee (they have a much stronger and healthier bond in this au), who eventually betrays Zuko first at the boiling rock before Mai joins her.

Lu Ten is pretty much like Iroh, because he’s trying his best to be just like his father and a good brotherly figure towards his cousins. He’s the only family Azula ever felt truly close to.

I’m still working on this au but this is pretty much all the important stuff for now!

(Edit: btw if anyone has any suggestions on what to add don’t hesitate to tell me)

[amiharana]

i come bearing a revalink suggestion,, they’re friends?? rivals?? but Revali’s been trying to rile Link up in a more flirtatious way and it all comes to a head when the champaign’s are out on an expedition with Zelda and oops! someone forgot to bring enough bedrolls for the night, enter: sharing a bed

yk what i mean

HI ANON i'm sorry i took so long to answer 😭 but thank you for the suggestion 👁️👁️ i've written about revalink sharing a hammock, but that was them in an established relationship, so this.... and they were hammockmates (oh my god they were hammockmates)

the premise of my canon-based situationship fic (if i ever get to write it LOL) was going to kinda be like this, a pre-calamity revalink who have decided they are no longer going to be rivals, but not necessarily friends, and then somehow revali catches feelings for link 😄 i just love the idea of revali seeing link and being like "this fucking idiot. i want him so bad." and reluctantly attempting to court him even if he knows that link doesn't understand what he's trying to do. my favorite part of this is that link is completely clueless. he has no idea what the hell is going on but he appreciates that revali is nicer to him :D

(warning: long ass fucking post. but we are so fucking back baby)

imagine revali trying his damndest to work up the courage to go give link a bouquet of swift violets, because (1) he knows it's a hylian courting ritual and link is a pretty simple guy, so he'll probably appreciate flowers, right? (2) revali thinks swift violets are very pretty flowers actually, and (3) they have a functional use in increasing link's speed during a fight when cooked into a meal, and with how often link gets injured in battle, goddess knows he needs the extra boost. imagining revali trying to give the bouquet to link on several occasions, but he always ends up chickening out or he waits too long so the bouquet gets ruined or dies so he has to gather more flowers for a new one, and when he finally gets to actually hand the bouquet to link, he gets nervous and insults link like the dumbass he is 😭 ("being the one with more foresight between the two of us, i predicted you would be in great need of something as simple as these swift violets. perhaps you could stand to learn a meal or two utilizing their innate effects on the field.") and then it turns out link is actually allergic to swift violets KJDHFKJSHDKFJH and revali has to take him to the infirmary in shame

just an endless string of the most cartoonish failures of revali's attempts to court link ☝️😹 because it either ends in disaster or link completely misunderstands the situation, and of course revali gets frustrated that link isn't understanding his advances, what an idiot! and it makes him want link even more! so his advances become more and more obvious until even daruk is like. hey man. please calm down now it's not that serious. and revali is like NO he's so stupid daruk how can he not understand that i am trying to court him!!! how much clearer can i make it? (meanwhile daruk is like 🧍)

but revali's desperate pleads are answered when zelda calls the champions early in the morning into the throne room for a mission 🙇 i'm thinking maybe there have been sightings of a lynel up in the northernmost part of akkala and it seems to be much more powerful that the citadel squadrons can handle, so they've called in the help of the champions. not that i'm actually gonna write about them fighting the lynel though 😹 you know me, i just be creating context and circumstances wherever i go

"they couldn't handle one lynel? revali says, when the princess finishes. "you would think a fortress chock-full of hyrule's greatest soldiers would be able to take at least one down."

"well, i don't see you volunteering," urbosa says crossing her arms, a faint smile on her lips. "would you like to show them how it's done?"

revali shoots her a glare and then tilts his beak up, tossing his braids over his shoulder. "hmph. i normally don't waste my time on something as savage as a lynel, but if it could inspire better archers of the citadel, then i suppose my extraordinary skills may be necessary there." out of the corner of his eye, he glances at link; the little hylian doesn't react at all to his boasting, continuing to stand calmly at attention. it irks something in revali, but he blows air out of his beak and turns his head again. stupid link.

zelda sighs. "well, if we are all settled then, i dismiss you all to begin preparations to leave. we hope to leave just past noon and make it to foothill stable by nightfall."

"that'll be right in between our homes, miphy!" daruk says, placing his hands on his hips and leaning backward to laugh heartily. "ah, we've stayed at the castle so long i almost forgot what the heat of death mountain feels like!"

"i feel similarly, daruk," mipha says, giving a small smile. "i wonder if my father and sidon are doing well..."

zelda bows her head in remorse. "i apologize for keeping you all from home for so long. i did not intend for you to stay this long, either."

"it's alright, little bird," urbosa says, stepping forward to place a hand on zelda's shoulder in reassurance. "it's our duty as champions to serve the land of hyrule and protect it from all evildoing. if staying a little longer is what will ensure this era of peace and prosperity, then so be it; we can be patient." she smiles at the princess, and zelda stares at her with wide eyes for a moment before returning the smile.

"thank you, urbosa, i appreciate your kind words," she says. zelda turns back to the rest of the champions and bows her head slightly again. "i will see you all in a few hours. thank you."

SORRY FOR WRITING OUT THINGS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PROMPT LMAO. ONCE AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SET THE STAGE AND CREATE A CIRCUMSTANCE. i also just miss the lack of champions in totk 🥹 but anyways! zelda & the champions meet at the front of the castle and with some extra personnel (hi impa!) & a battalion, they all set out towards the akkala citadel as the sun hits its peak in the sky.

at this point, you might be thinking, why don't they just travel in the divine beasts since they're bigger and can cover more ground in a shorter period of time? and to that i tell you, 🌸 shut the fuck up 🌸 KJDFHKDFJKH nah but in my head in this point of time, the champions all left their divine beasts in their respective regions because they're all still learning to control them and they would rather not go stomping around on random civilians while traversing hyrule. do you know how insane it would be to be a traveler going through hyrule field to visit the coliseum or something and then all of a sudden, a gigantic stone camel with long ass legs nearly squashes you flat? i would die of a heart attack on the spot.

i also think it's important to romanticize the naturalness of traveling on-foot and it would also be interesting to see how they would accommodate for each champions' needs or habits as they travel together; they have to travel near water so that mipha doesn't dehydrate, revali and daruk leave the main group momentarily every now and then to go burst into the sky or roll down further along the path respectively bc they're sick of walking, etc.

the group reaches foothill stable just after sundown; revali complains that they should have just brute forced it to the citadel since it was just further down the road, but zelda insists that it could be dangerous since ganon's power seems to be growing and they could be ambushed by monsters in the night. as safe as the citadel seems, they shouldn't let down their guard! so revali, not wanting to fight with the literal princess of hyrule, just shuts his beak and trudges along after the rest of the group, the calm warm glow of the stable in the distance growing brighter as they approach. he won't admit it out loud but he's a little weary from travel too 😹

link and zelda board their horses at the stable, and everyone else sets up camp just off to the side of the stable, pitching tents, starting campfires and cooking pots, and passing out bedrolls. but as they unpack and pass out bedrolls, they realize that there's not enough for everyone to sleep comfortably through the night. zelda pays for the rest of the beds in the stable to cover for the rest of the battalion, but it leaves out one soldier who link knows happens to have sleeping problems or something. so he decides to give up his bedroll to the dude; it's not like he needs it as much, he could probably fall asleep straight in the dirt right now if he wanted.

"ah, champion link! i couldn't take this from you—" the man starts, but link just shakes his head and pushes the bedroll into his arms, giving him an insistent look. the soldier accepts the bedroll in defeat, but bows his head. "oh... well thank you, champion, i appreciate it very much!" link nods and turns away before returning to the rest of the champions.

"hello, link— where's your bedroll?" mipha says, noticing the lack of one in his hands. link tilts his head back towards the soldier he had given his bedroll to. "oh, what about you?"

he just shakes his head. "don't need one," link says softly. though he's comfortable speaking with the champions, he's still not used to the way his own voice reverberates against his throat; he hasn't used his voice as much as he should since he took his 'vow of silence'.

"what do you mean you don't need one, little guy?" daruk says, scratching his head. "i might be a goron, but fleshy little hylians like you are made for fluffy beds and—"

but link pays him no mind and strides over to a nearby tree (one that happens to be near the two that revali has set his hammock up at 👁️), drops his stuff on the ground and sits next to it, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed. mipha and daruk both open their mouths to object, but urbosa places a hand on both of their shoulders.

"leave him be," she says, as all of them watch link settle against the tree. "that boy is far too stubborn for his own good. once he has his mind set on something, he won't give up."

"you sure the little guy's gonna be alright?" daruk says, face contorted into an expression of concern. "i know he's tough, but i can't imagine that what he's doing is comfortable at all."

"he'll be fine," urbosa reassures him. she glances to the side, where revali is already keeping an eye on link, sitting at the tree where the farther end of his hammock from the little hylian is tied and tending to his bow. she smirks knowingly; "he's already in good care."

so everyone gets ready for the night; the battalion soldiers are already fast asleep, zelda, urbosa, and impa are sleeping in the stable beds, daruk is rolled up closer to the rockier terrain near the stable, mipha is straight up sleeping in the nearby cephla lake, leaving link and revali to be the only people awake. they're both still sitting against the trees, revali making the final tweaks to the great eagle bow and link polishing the master sword. revali has been stealing glances at link the entire time, watching and waiting for an opportunity (and also working up the courage) to say something. even at the base of death mountain, the cold night wind perseveres and revali catches every single tremor that goes through link's body as he shivers. maybe he could offer to...

"why did you give up your bedroll?" revali says finally. to be honest, he could probably already figure out an answer if he wanted to, but he asks anyway.

link pauses and glances up at him, before returning to polishing. revali's feathers ruffle at the lack of answer and he looks away, beak clenching. while he cared not for link's stance on verbal speech, acknowledging him and not giving an answer was rather unnecessary, wasn't it? especially since link had grown comfortable speaking with the princess and the champions, that should have included revali as well—

"i don't need one," link says suddenly, so softly, revali has to hold his breath, straining to hear the little hylian. link's voice is so quiet, it could be carried away by the night wind and revali is borderline obsessed with it, but the answer he gives is the same one he had given to the other champions. so revali says nothing and stares at link, prompting him to elaborate. "torin needed it more than me."

"torin?" revali questions. he wonders how much of the hyrulean army link knows by name.

"the man i gave my bedroll to," link replies, still wiping at his blade. "excellent fighter, great with a sword. but his chronic pain makes it difficult for him on the field." he sets down the cloth he was using to polish the master sword with and holds it up, appraising the blade. it glints in the moonlight quite elegantly. "giving him my bedroll is the least i can do to aid his comfort."

for a moment, revali is speechless; he had known that link was rather altruistic, always offering to help out even if it was inconvenient to himself. perhaps he shouldn't be surprised at all.

"you didn't have to do that though," revali says. he has stopped tending to his own bow at this point, letting it lay across his lap instead. "isn't it 'first come first serve' with you hylians? you were one of the first to receive a bedroll. you could have kept it to yourself, and i doubt anyone would complain since you're their champion."

link only shakes his head. "he needed it more than me," he insists, still in the same soft voice. "as a captain and a champion, it's my duty to care for my fellow knights. we're only as strong as our weakest member."

"then what about you?" revali says, staring straight at link. "if that's true, you're in no better of a situation than he was in previously."

"i'll survive," link says simply, and then, he yawns. at the same exact moment, another cold night breeze passes by, tousling link's bangs and once more does revali watch, completely entranced by the way link's body shivers in reaction. then, he slides the master sword back in its scabbard before raising his arms to stretch and yawn again. "sleeping on the ground for one night isn't that big of a deal."

and revali sees his chance and it stares right back at him like it's a challenge, like an eye glowing bright gold in the darkness; this is now or never.

"you don't have to sleep on the ground," he says quietly, but he looks down at the bow in his lap when he says it. in the corner of his eye, he sees link's arms pause mid-stretch before he slowly lowers them. he can feel the piercing blue gaze of link's eyes searing right through his cheek feathers and in turn, his heart skips a beat. stupid, stupid link. revali wishes he could despise the effect that a hylian of all people has on him.

"what do you mean?" link says in similar volume.

revali looks up to meet his gaze and swallows at the sight of those terribly beautiful blue eyes sparkling at him in the moonlight. now or never. "you could stay with me," he says softly, before he loses his nerve.

and link's eyes widen. if revali lets his vision blur a little, perhaps he can convince himself into thinking that the pink flush on link's cheeks is just the natural color of hylian skin, or just a trick of the moon's light and the glow of lava oozing down death mountain above them. but nothing can change the fact that he can see the entirety of link's irises, or the slight part in his lips.

"with you? in your...?" link whispers, but in this moment, his voice is the only thing the rito can hear at all. revali gives a single nod. "why?" there's not a single hint of mirth in link's voice, only genuine surprise.

revali looks away. "your heroism makes you foolish enough to give up the supplies necessary for your own survival in order to ensure the survival of others," he murmurs. "look at you, you're shaking in the cold like a loose feather. if you were a rito like i, you wouldn't have this problem."

he hears link snort and glances up at him. link is looking at him fully, a small smile on his face, and perhaps they are far too close to death mountain with the way that heat floods revali's cheeks and makes his limbs melt into the ground.

"and we wouldn't want the princess and the hyrulean army to wake up in the morning finding that their beloved champion froze to death in the night," he continues softly.

"no, i suppose not," link replies, still smiling. but the smile fades in the next moment or two, the pink flush revali had tried to pretend was just the color of his skin returning to link's cheeks much darker than before, as if to goad him. "s-so... how are we going to...?" he trails off, staring at revali with wide blue eyes.

revali blinks, and then swallows. truthfully, he didn't think he would get this far, but there's no backing out now. with his heart grabbing the bones of his ribcage and bashing its head against them, revali stands dusting himself off and hangs the great eagle bow on one of the branches of the tree. then, he turns back to face link, who's still staring at him with wide blue eyes and his pretty pink-flushed face from the ground. he walks towards link until he's standing in front of the little hylian, and then offers a hand.

"well firstly, are you ready for bed?" revali says, attempting to sound irritated, like his own offer is an inconvenience to him. but it's all in vain; his voice comes out too soft, too tender, too fond.

link stares up at him for a couple moments more before nodding, so revali extends his hand a little further out. "hurry up then," he says, voice still so unbearably soft. "i wouldn't do this for anyone else."

so link takes his hand and revali pulls him up in one swift movement. but he pulls too hard, because before he can even register it, suddenly both of link's hands are on his chest, his body pressed up against revali's. instinctively, one of his arms goes to circle link's waist, pushing them closer together, and the rito's ears are full of the sound of link's quiet gasp at the pressure; is he depraved to want to push him closer, to hear it again?

"s-sorry," link whispers, just slightly pushing off of revali's chest. "i didn't mean to—"

"it's fine," revali whispers back. with all his will, he lets his arm fall from link's waist to let him step away, resisting the urge to pull the warm little hylian back into his embrace. hylia above, how could revali ever have offered to share his hammock with such depravities rotting his mind?

revali turns away to walk towards the hammock, desperately trying to ignore the electric pull of the string tying him back to link. he looks over his shoulder back at the little hylian. "come on," revali says, feigning all the coolness, all the suaveness he can muster. the show must go on, after all.

revali slides into the hammock easily, settling into a comfortable position, and then he looks back at link. the little hylian stares down at his body and suddenly he feels self-conscious, his crest feathers ruffling. "are you getting in or would you rather stand there until sunrise?" revali snaps, and then cringes at his own tone.

but link only looks at him with the same wide, blue-eyed gaze sparkling in the moonlight. "yeah," he whispers, "i just..."

"just get in," revali mutters, looking away. "i won't fall out unless you're trying to make me fall out on purpose."

and slowly, so slowly, link grabs the edge of the hammock closer to him with hesitant, gentle fingers. he looks up at revali, who gives him a nod of encouragement, so he continues, reaching over revali's chest to grab the opposite edge of the hammock and begins to climb in. with some fidgeting and struggling, link lies atop revali's chest, their legs somehow tangled together. revali hopes the little hylian can't hear his heart drumming its high-strung song against his ribs.

"you're so warm," link whispers. "i didn't think you'd be."

"how do you think the rito are able to live so close to the hebra mountains?" revali murmurs back. "our feathers are insulative and keep us warm even in the most bitter of winters." he pauses, considering his next words, and then continues. "if you ever return to the village... our artisans are working on a prototype of an outfit to help featherless hylians like yourself brave the frigid temperatures of hebra. they are... using some of my own plumage to make it. if you wanted to truly experience the power of rito feathers yourself, i extend an invitation for you to come visit rito village at your earliest convenience."

"i'd like that a lot," link murmurs in response.

the rito hums in acknowledgement and they both fall silent. another cold wind breezes past and this time, link curls closer around revali's body, sighing quietly. instinctively, the rito raises his wings and drapes them around the little hylian's form in response, pressing him even closer than before. they stay just like this, beginning to drift off to the sounds of nature around them.

"revali?" link says suddenly, pulling revali a little bit out of his drowsy.

"mm?" revali replies. he doesn't try to summon the energy to even pretend to be irritated, only wrapping his wings tighter around link's body.

"thank you," link whispers. "for this. you didn't have to."

revali just hums back, letting the drowsiness pull him under. "go to sleep," he mumbles. "there will be more time for gratitude in the morning."

"okay," link whispers back, and revali feels him snuggle closer. there's a moment of hesitation, and in the next, it dissipates as revali finally falls asleep, feeling link's arms circle his torso, embracing him gently.

in the morning, the champions find them wrapped around each other in the hammock, urbosa being the first. she smirks down at them, a hand on her hip and shaking her head in amusement.

"ah, urbosa, where's link—?" mipha says as she approaches the chieftess. but she spots them right away, snapping her mouth shut and blinking owlishly until it grows in a held-back grin.

"i told you, link is already in good care," urbosa says. she looks past mipha to see daruk and zelda walking over, the latter yawning and tying her hair up. when they see the predicament that revali and link have gotten themselves into, daruk has to hold back a guffaw and zelda just rolls her eyes.

"they took their time, didn't they?" zelda grumbles.

"with all due respect, you should not be the one to talk, princess," mipha says, smiling politely. zelda wrinkles her nose at the zora princess, who giggles behind her hand.

"none of you should be talking at all," comes revali's voice, gravelly and hoarse from sleep. the champions turn back to the hammock, where revali gives them a dirty look with only one eye open. he remains in his position in the hammock, wings still wrapped around link who's asleep on his chest. "speak louder than a summer breeze and i'll show you the true strength of a rito's shot."

"my, my, so aggressive," urbosa muses. "has he made you soft for him already?" revali's glare only intensifies, so she holds up her hands in playful surrender. "alright, i'll leave you two alone. everyone, let's go start making breakfast. we have some time before we need to be at the citadel."

the rest of the champions begin to walk over to the cooking pots they've set up, zelda's head on mipha's shoulder and daruk listing off what his favorite types of rock meals are for breakfast. when they're out of earshot, revali relaxes and lets a breath out through the nares of his beak.

"what'd they mean, 'take our time'?" link suddenly mumbles against revali's chest.

revali blinks in surprise, staring down at the mop of dark gold hair atop him. "nothing you need to concern yourself with," he says, eyes wide. "when did you wake up?"

"been 'wake since 'fore sunrise," link mumbles. "jus' too warm 'n comfy to get up. hope you don't mind."

revali relaxes and sighs. "you're lucky i'm too comfortable to care either," he murmurs. he adjusts the way his wings are wrapped around link's body, and the little hylian hums and snuggles closer. suddenly, revali feels wide awake and he swears his heart could jump right out of his chest right now. "do you plan on remaining shackled to my body for the rest of the morning?"

"if you'll let me," link murmurs in response, and the rito feels like the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

"fine," revali acquiesces, once he feels like he can breathe again. "just this once... you'll have to get up to eat anyway. everyone here knows about your voracious appetite. you're incredibly insatiable for a hylian." it's not like he truly wants link to leave anyway... but link doesn't need to know that part.

link hums. "okay." they're both quiet for a couple moments, until the little hylian speaks again. "thank you again for this, revali. i appreciate it a lot."

revali pauses, his heart skipping several beats now. "good to know you possess enough of a developed brain to not take my gifts for granted," he replies, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice. but the rito's voice softens as he continues. "and... you're welcome. my kindness is not a gift i grant as often as you might think. so treasure it now; you may not be so lucky to receive it so freely again."

"i will," link replies, his voice muffled in revali's feathers. the rito swears he can feel link smiling into his skin. "so thanks again."

revali blows air through his nares of his beak. stupid, stupid link. try as he might to reject and dislike the effect this little hylian has on him, he can't help but crave it more and more. perhaps the bestowal of more of revali's gifts onto link are in order...