#i might just upload them on my ao3 as well

[rkived]

Hey,

I've been wanting to read pining 101 but the drabble links aren't opening? Did u delete the drabbles by any chance?

hi yes that’s bc i changed my user and was too lazy to also change the url on the pining 101 drabbles lmao i’ll get to it ….

[luxeberries]

now on ao3

One day, in mid August of ‘85, Dustin shows up at Steve’s front door, completely unannounced. It’s the middle of the night and Steve has half the mind to reprimand Dustin about curfew and biking alone in the dark. But when his vision finally focuses on Dustin’s expression, Steve sees panic in his eyes; fear. At first, his heart plummets and he thinks not again, not so soon. But then Dustin says-

“I killed that guy. Didn’t I?”

And every other thought in Steve’s mind crumbles like ash. 

“The Russian,” Dustin clarifies in Steve’s silence. “The doctor.” 

Steve remembers. 

Bald, round glasses. 

Stale coffee breath. 

Pliers pulling his nail. 

He can’t speak, throat closing up. 

Dustin keeps talking, rambling like Robin does when she’s panicked. “They used those cattle prods to stun demogorgons, Steve. Do you have any idea how many volts that thing held? He- He fell, like-”

“Dustin,” Steve says - rasps it out because his throat is dry but he needs to stop Dustin’s spiral. 

Rendered silent, Dustin looks up at Steve with wide, glistening eyes. He’s expecting an answer, but Steve doesn’t have one. He can’t think beyond the sight of Dustin standing before him in a matching pajama set and untied shoes, like he didn’t have the time or mind to fasten them up because he was in too much of a rush to come here. To seek out Steve, in the middle of the night. Steve, who should be able to help because that’s his job; he’s the protector, the older brother Dustin can come to for comfort. 

Except that Steve was woken with a start just five minutes ago when Dustin started pounding on his front door and he thought it was the Russians coming back for him, his mind still half lost to the nightmare he was having; all blood and bone saws and Robin’s screams. Part of him is itching to call her, like maybe she somehow died back there and Steve has been imagining her this whole time and he just needs to hear her mom answer the phone and say, ‘Yeah, she’s right here, honey’. 

But he remembers Dustin charging in, remembers watching him strike the doctor right in the chest and how he fell to the ground, limp, and didn’t get back up. Knows that everyone is safe, no matter what his brain tries to tell him. Robin and Erica are sleeping in their beds, and Dustin is standing on his front door step, bike discarded on the ground next to the Bimmer. 

Steve takes a deep breath and says, “Get in here.” 

He ushers Dustin in with a hand on the back of his neck, locking the door behind them, and heads to the living room. Dustin just keeps looking at him, like Steve has all the answers. Like Steve can make it all better. Can say the voltage wouldn’t have killed him, as if the possibility that he’s still out there wouldn’t send himself into a panic attack. 

“Steve,” Dustin says, and it sounds like a plea; the way his voice lisps, wet and small. 

He’s only thirteen.

“I killed a person,” Dustin says. 

And Steve gets it, sort of. It doesn’t matter that the person Dustin killed was evil and cruel, just like it didn’t matter that Billy Hargrove was about to kill Lucas when Steve stepped in between them. He still didn’t want to hurt someone. Each punch felt like too much, like if he punched any harder, he’d do some serious damage. And Billy would have deserved it - as horrible as it feels to think that after his sacrifice - but Steve didn’t want to be the one to do it. That’s not who he is. He’s a protector, not a fighter. Not a killer. That breaks something in a person, as is made clear by the crack in Dustin’s voice. It took something from him. The little bit of innocence Dustin had left. 

“Yeah,” Steve says, quiet and almost apologetic. “You did.” 

Dustin’s face falls, as if he really did want Steve to say otherwise. But avoiding the truth won’t help anything. 

“But- But you saved me, okay?” he says, like he’s asking if that truth is enough.

Dustin’s eyes flash with something Steve can’t identify. 

“Me and Robin,” Steve continues. “You saved us. If you hadn’t done what you did- What you had to do…”

His nightmares have answered that hypothetical too well. 

He shakes it off, puts his hand on Dustin’s shoulder instead.

“You saved us. You did good, Dustin. Okay? That’s what’s important here.” 

Dustin's face crumples and before Steve can blink, he’s got an armful of the kid. He’s still bruised, ribs only just recovering from the break, and it hurts. But he wraps Dustin up in his arms and lets him cry into his shoulder, wetting the thin fabric through. 

"Hey, it's okay," Steve soothes, voice low. "You're okay. I've got you, buddy."

He’s not coddling him or trying to get him to stop crying- he just talks so Dustin knows he’s there. Tells him how grateful he is for Dustin taking care of him and Robin when they were messed up, for being so brave when he busted into that room. He talks until Dustin is quiet against him, left with his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist and his face pressed into Steve’s shoulder. He doesn’t move for a while, but Steve doesn’t mind - just rubs his back and rests his cheek against his curls. 

“Your mom know you’re here?” he asks softly. 

Dustin shakes his head. 

“You wanna stay here tonight?” 

Dustin nods. 

Steve checks his watch over Dustin’s shoulder. It’s almost midnight. He sighs. 

“Remind me to send her flowers or something as an apology for waking her up right now,” Steve says, light-hearted, trying to make Dustin laugh.

But Dustin just sniffles, guilty. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no. It’s fine. Take your shoes off and head on upstairs, yeah? I’ll call your mom and tell her you’re with me.” 

Dustin pulls back, wipes his wet nose with his sleeve and Steve tries not to cringe. 

“Thanks, Steve.”

It’s not entirely selfless, calling Dustin’s mom. If he calls Mrs Henderson, he can call Robin right after without Dustin knowing. He has a feeling she’ll be awake at this time too anyway. He thinks he might call the Sinclairs as well, wants to make sure Erica is okay. 

And as long as Dustin stays the night, Steve knows that at least he’s safe, spread out right beside him, taking up the whole bed. Can make sure Dustin sleeps through the night, can be there if he has a nightmare that his mom wouldn’t be able to calm him down from. 

Steve ruffles Dustin’s hair, smiling at how he pushes into it like a cat. “It’s no problem.”

[ceiling-karasu]

Jollin and the Festival

The afternoon before the start of the Dano Dragon Boat festival, Nayeon greeted Jollin as he returned home from his rounds, chattering happily as usual. As the spring crops came in around her family farm, the bunny had come by multiple times in the past few weeks to borrow the cart he used for larger courier and mail deliveries around his assigned area of Flower Hill.

Jollin did not mind. Nayeon only borrowed it when she knew he was going to have a light load the next day, or had the day off. And besides, letting her borrow the cart increased the chances of her gifting him a few extra bits of produce as a neighborly thanks, a luxury unheard of back when he was a half-starved laborer in the Weasel Kingdoms.

The entire community seemed to think he was too malnourished for his own good, not knowing that his thinner body and less fluffy tail was due to him being a dormouse scout for the enemy, and not actually a squirrel as they assumed. He dreaded to think about what would happen if they figured it out. Then again, instead of publicly exposing him, they would likely contact the Cherry Valley command center, who would explain that yes, he had actually defected long ago, and was happily being used as bait to lure out other scouts who may have escaped the roundup of the other Tokgasi agents. Or so the hedgehog and squirrel commander had assumed, and continued to believe.

“…I do hope you are able to attend the festival, tomorrow! I just hope it is not interrupted by the Weasel Unit, but surely not even they would be inconsiderate enough to attack a peaceful festival when an international crowd is around. Even I get to perform on stage in the afternoon! I have been practicing in every free moment I get! But I won’t tell you what I am performing. It’s a secret you will have to see for yourself,” Nayeon could hardly keep still as she laughed, bold and shy at the same time.

Jollin could guess that she would probably perform a dance, perhaps in tune to some folk music, or even an opera song. Over the last few weeks, she had taken to wearing a traditional hanbok- or chosŏn-ot, as Flower Hill called them- in every spare moment, twirling as she moved. Even Jollin had noticed her gracefulness, which made her a prime candidate for one of the floating dances performed on the peninsula. He had heard of those, although it had previously been a delicate spectacle reserved only for the weasels and other upper class groups in their mansions and theaters. Granted, she still had to work, so the chima was not as long as to cover the boots, and was not adorned in complex patterns, but she would likely be wearing a proper version at the festival. Still, even he knew not to spoil the surprise, needing to fake some cheerfulness and mimic the excitement of the fools of the country.

“Oh! I simply cannot wait! The Command Center does need me to deliver a few packages tomorrow, but I bet they will need to be taken to the festival anyway,” he laughed. Really, the commanders had already approached him with intel that another Tokgasi agent was to appear at the festival, and wanted him, the supposed defector, to hunt them down. “But it will be getting dark soon! You had best be on your way home so you can help the others with the crops! Otherwise, you will all have to do it in the dark, and that can be dangerous! You might oversleep.”

“Yes, sir!” The bunny tittered She waved, then quickly moved down the path and around the hills towards her home, pulling the cart.

Jollin was not necessarily worried about Nayeon being out alone in the dark. Granted, the Tokgasi survivors were hiding out in the area, but it was unlikely they would go for her. There was a danger of a rouge scout taking her hostage to try and get the dormouse courier to shelter them, of course, thinking that they were close friends. But he knew that despite her looks, Nayeon had already been through the mandatory conscription of Flower Hill. She should know how to fight off an attacker, especially given her grandfather being a top general.

Which made him wonder if she was really the happy, bubbly bunny she appeared to be. As far as he was concerned, his paranoia over her being a plant by Cherry Valley was fully justified. Particularly after her grandfather, the doddering old retired soldier, who would absentmindedly, in his loneliness and age, give away secrets about Flower Hill’s defenses and movements, had turned out to be a fully in charge general, who was feeding him false information as part of a Flower Hill plot to use an enemy scout to destabilize the opposing army. Apparently, Flower Hill, as with other nations, were surprisingly fine with allowing a scout to live and work in their homeland. However, the fact that the scout was not sending the false information back to his handlers as they had planned was an actual problem, as it meant that Weasel Unit forces were not falling into traps that had been set up. It forced the general to drop his charade early out of frustration, and for the Flower Hill commanders to formally induct him as a defector from the enemy.

So, what about his granddaughter, Nayeon? Living so close to the Command Center, it was possible that her role to play was to casually drop information on what he should be doing, in a way that would not sound like an order, should he prove obstinate to demands. Come to the festival, a loud place he had no interest in, and stand near a stage, possibly to meet up and chat with a ‘friendly’ hedgehog about infiltration he had seen other than the Weasel Unit soldiers who had been purposefully invited.

On the other hand, she could simply be that innocent, somehow. It would be a bad idea to question her. If it was the latter, and she found out he was one of the enemies? I wouldn’t see her as often. There would go all the extra food, and news from around Flower Hill that he did need to pass on to his handlers. As far as he could tell, she had no parents, and lived with her grandfather, and given the current war and occupations, there was usually a reason for that.

So, being a bit paranoid about what he said and did was reasonable. The commanders and the soldiers saw it as typical mouse nervousness, while the citizens out of conscription saw him as a poor shellshocked victim from the border, afraid to make friends in case he lost them again. Let both those groups believe that. It makes it easier to meet up with Tokgasi alone.

Which was another reason Jollin needed Nayeon to leave so early. He could see the smudge on one of the stones leading up to the walkway to his house his own house. Someone like him, a Tokgasi scout, would easily recognize the faint Weasel Unit symbol on the ground, signaling that there was a message for him. Jollin lay a hand on the fence post, waiting for Nayeon to shift positions, so the straw hat hanging off his back would block her view of his hand snatching the calling card from Tokgasi affixed to the fence post.

My own house. He hardly could have dreamed of having his own private residence in his previous country. Small, but his own. His own bedroom, a main room, working plumbing in a bathroom, and closets for extra clothing of all things. And the fools had just given this to him, either thinking he was one of their own, or had happily switched sides.

He could get an even greater house if he gave Flower Hill over to Tokgasi and the Weasel Unit. A larger home, with luxuries Flower Hill eschewed, maybe even his own servants, as he had seen other mice get for procuring a great victory for their weasel masters, should they be so inclined.

And perhaps, despite how nice they had been, the thought that Flower Hill fully deserved destruction for their inaction towards the suffering taking place in Usuhan Jiyeog still arose. Just sitting back and not interfering as his people starved and died of sickness, hardly having a care in the world about those who had slighted them generations ago. Jollin had seen the firepower around Cherry Valley and elsewhere, knew that with precision strikes they could have easily wiped out the leaders and most of the Weasel Unit, making their country safer, but they were too soft to do so. Once the weasels were gone, most of the mice would likely starve to death without overseers telling them what to do, so Flower Hill should not have to worry about that.

Still, the firepower he had been allowed to casually see gave him pause in reporting anything.

Either way, there would be a meeting tonight. The message noted to leave the door unlocked.

……………………………………………………………………….

The hill in front of his house blocked his view of the valley below, and he assumed that hedgehogs would spy on him from there. Which meant it was a perfect area for Tokgasi and his agents, along with other scouts, to survey as well to make sure they were not being watched.

The mice gathered in the main room, some watching the windows to make sure no one snuck up on the house. Nervous fools, Jollin noted. One of these days, during one of these meetings, someone was going to make a mistake and capture a hedgehog who passed by, instead of hiding. The smarter infiltrators had run away when Tokgasi’s scout ring had collapsed, helped by Jollin’s instructions on the lax security that appeared during specific times. He had heard the other mice whispering rumors of Geumbanji’s mercenary group running a series of safe-houses for deserters, ending somewhere near the border of Chaand Hadia.

Which, while an odd tactic for mercenaries to use, made perfect sense. Geumbanji himself needed to lie low, now that Flower Hill had realized he was a traitor, and with other countries likely keeping a lookout for him as well, he might be bored. Besides, he would get money, news, and supplies from the traffic, while Flower Hill could watch a steady stream of soldiers leave the ranks of the Weasel Unit. The gold ringed mouse could run his mercenary operation from anywhere.

Fleeing to Chaand Hadia had also been one of his possible routes for desertion, but the stories he had heard about the endless food supply and idiotic citizens of Flower Hill who would just give him things had been too tempting. Besides, he would rather see if the foreign country he knew almost nothing about would actually welcome mice and allow them to assimilate. Best not to be among the first. Even if not, he could still hide somewhere.

But that was not important at the moment. Tokgasi was giving him orders.

“We have finally managed to make contact with the second scout we have embedded around the Command Center. We know that he will be at the festival working security, which is good for us to sneak in. Once you make your deliveries, seek him out and give him this message,” Tokgasi handed him a light pink data chip. “These will give him his next instructions.”

“Activating the sleeper agent, eh?” Jollin snickered, trying his best to sound like a typical mouse, fawning over his boss.

“Naturally! It is time that we start to make our moves to prepare to strike.” Tokgasi smiled back, all previous suspicion of Jollin being a traitor who deserted gone from his mind

“Alright, it should be easy enough, sir! I will complete my mission!” Jollin saluted properly.

The other mice smiled and cheered softly, not wanting to arouse suspicion from outside, if anyone was lurking.

Well, this is interesting. Two Weasel Unit scouts embedded in the command center could spell doom for Flower Hill. But Flower Hill also expected him to find a scout at the festival, which meant that they might already know, betraying the remainder of his own little group of friends.

Jollin supposed he would have to see how it would go.

…………….

End Part One

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Fanfic Thieves on Youtube

A collection of youtube channels have been uploading preexisting fanfictions in videos with little to no credit to the original authors. These are not podfics, these channels copy-paste the fics into text-to-speech readers then upload the unaltered audio over static or unrelated backgrounds, either art that is also stolen or mobile game footage. In addition to not naming the authors, they alter the title to make it that much harder for readers to recognize or find the original uploads. Some go so far as to pretend they themselves are creating the fics in question. Many claim that their stealing actually helps give fics "exposure" despite the intentional steps they take to conceal the origins of the fics they profit off of. However, this practice has lead many authors to discontinue fics after the frustration of having their hard work stolen. Many of these channels claim they will remove videos upon request, but will either argue with the author in order to keep it up, or simply unlist the video for a time until they think the author isn't paying attention anymore. And their solution to receiving strikes against their channels in the past has been to further obfuscate the origins of their content instead of even considering asking first.

”I got caught stealing, so instead of not stealing anymore, I’m doubling down on stealing even more so it’s harder for people to find out and prove I’m stealing. Stealing doesn't count if the specific person I stole from didn't call me out. I am the real victim.”

That, plus the incessant tag scumming in all the videos (spamming unrelated tags in order to appear in more search results) proves to me that these are lazy attention seekers who don't want to put in creative effort when they could just leech off of the passion of others.

In order to report them, go to their channel's "About" page and click the flag icon. Said icon might be behind the three dots in the top bar on mobile. Go to "Report User" at the bottom and tick the "spam and scams" button. This will allow you to list multiple videos as offenders instead of reporting them individually. Youtube's policy states that video spam constitutes:

Massively uploading content that you scraped from other creators.

Auto-generated content that computers post without regard for quality or viewer experience.

If you recognize one of your fics among the stolen, say so in the additional comments box, and perhaps call out the channel directly in the video's comments. If you recognize someone else's fic, please let the original author know so they can report the channel as well. Many have been confronted for stealing previously and refuse to admit wrongdoing.

Most of what I've found has been My Hero Academia fics since that's my fandom and those are the ones I can recognize as stolen, but there are many other channels that steal from other fandoms, so I invite anyone and everyone to reblog this with their own findings.

The reality is that this extremely low-effort content and new youtube channels are both very easy to make, so most likely they'll start new channels once the ones on this list are run through. But hopefully, if we all work together and keep whacking these moles, perhaps we can instill that same defeatism they caused so many creators who didn't deserve it, and eventually they'll give up.

My sincerest thanks to everyone who helped bring additional channels to my attention. A special thanks to ao3 user InArduisFidelis who brought the initial attention to the issue, and @owlf45 whose work was stolen.

Links under the cut.

YurikoFanfics - Not only stole content, but acted in comments as though they were the one writing these stories.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@YurikoFanfics

What-IF-Anime - Has the exact same "disclaimer" about not being the original author as the one above. Either they're the same person or the thieves are stealing from each other.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@What-IF-Anime

quirkywhatif7 - Either an alt of the above, or all these people are talking to one another because this one made a community post identical to a comment the one above made in response to being called out (the above screenshots).

https://www.youtube.com/@quirkywhatif7/about

DekuFanfic - It's the same fucking guy again.

https://www.youtube.com/@DekuFanfic/about

InfiniteParadoxfanfics - Nothing notable, same deal as the others.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@InfiniteParadoxfanfics/about

WhatIfAnimeChannel - Admits in their community posts that other people write the fics they post but still doesn't give credit. Migrated to a new channel after issues with youtube, likely being flagged previously.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeChannel/about

WhatIfAnimeAll - Alt of above.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfAnimeAll

FWNWorld - Makes sure to tell you that the videogame footage is theirs, but can't bother to credit anyone else.

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@FWNWorld/about

WTFW - Claims to have "[A] team of talented writers, voice actors, and artists work together to create immersive fan fiction stories that are sure to captivate your imagination." Just the same test-to-speech stolen content over videogames. So straight up lying claiming that everything is theirs (and that anything they make is quality).

https://href.li/?https://www.youtube.com/@WTFW

MHA2.0Fanfics - Lots of crossover theft.

https://www.youtube.com/@MHA2.0Fanfics/about

Collerwhatiif - Pretty sure this one is the same guy as the previous 2, also has one for another fandom.

https://www.youtube.com/@Collerwhatiif/about

https://www.youtube.com/@GoJoFanfiction/videos

ko_sensei - Another that claims to have a "team" that makes the stories they steal: " passionate about creating compelling and engaging fanfiction that explores the various "what ifs" in the anime universe."

https://www.youtube.com/@ko_sensei/about

FantasticWhatIf - Multifandom stealing, uses the exact same bs disclaimer as many others.

https://www.youtube.com/@FantasticWhatIf/about

LettuceHeadFanfics - No credit, no acknowledgement of anything. Next one is an alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@LettuceHeadFanfics/about

brocollifanfics - Alt of above, once again admits to stealing with a declaration of "☆If you want to takedown any videos. You can mail us or leave a comment below the video☆"

https://www.youtube.com/@brocollifanfics/about

whatifofficial786 - Focuses on MHA/Naruto crossovers. Identical format.

https://www.youtube.com/@whatifofficial786/about

NotWhatIf - I've lost track of who's an alt of who but yet another identical format, descriptions, and bullshit claims of "enhancing the viewer experience" by putting a robot voice over bootleg fortnite footage.

https://www.youtube.com/@NotWhatIf/about

weebxds - Same again.

https://www.youtube.com/@weebxds/about

ItachiFanfics - Naruto channel, we can at least confirm that this one is run by a human given the rare different descriptions and a real voice at the beginning of videos before the robot comes back.

https://www.youtube.com/@ItachiFanfics/about

WhatIfDN - As if mockingly, a bunch of videos have a "credit" section in their descriptions that is of course blank.

https://www.youtube.com/@WhatIfDN/about

SpiceandBooks and spiceandfiction - Apparently Youtube itself has started picking up on the bullshit, because this multifandom channel is being dinged as ai spam so they started a new one.

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiceandBooks/about

https://www.youtube.com/@spiceandfiction/about

theoriginalastra - Doesn't even bother with disclaimers, the following are multiple alts/potential alts for different fandoms.

https://www.youtube.com/@theoriginalastra/about

SillySenpai12 - Highschool DXD alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@SillySenpai12/about

RosieRealms - Naruto alt.

https://www.youtube.com/@RosieRealms/about

DekuWhatIfs - Potentially another astra alt but not sure, doesn't matter because all these channels do the same thing anyway.

AnimeStark688 - No credits or disclaimers.

https://www.youtube.com/@AnimeStark688/about

Please take the time to report these channels, spread this post around, and reblog with any additional offending channels you find.

[kuwdora]

A Vidding Primer

A guide written for @wren-of-the-woods who asked for advice about how to start vidding! This is far from comprehensive and I tried not to make it too dense because it's a big subject. I still wanted to share a variety of topics about getting into vidding because it's a hobby and art that is near and dear to my heart.

First Piece of Advice

watch a lot of vids and rewatch vids multiple times. Seek out vids on YouTube, AO3, Watch the TikTok and Twitter/X vids that show up on tumblr or wherever you’re browsing. They all have distinct styles and tools/techniques they use to make their vids and edits. Rewatch the vids and ask yourself what you like or dislike about them. The song, the editing, the source. That can give you a good starting point about how you might want to approach making your own fanvids. The TikTok style of 30 and 40 second edits are very different what you find on YouTube. YouTube editors tend to use a full song and a lot more effects and a lot more overlapping dialogue. Whereas the fanvids - Vids - from people who came into vidding in the mid 2000s/2010s have their own culture, different ways they approach song choice, clip choices and narrative. I also suggest watching vids for shows/films you’re not familiar with as well as your fandom favorites. You can learn a lot about how vidders try to tell a story even when you might not grasp the context behind certain scenes but you can still follow along with the emotional arc of the vid.

Second Piece of Advice

Have fun and enjoy yourself. Everyone starts a new hobby as a newbie. It can be a lot of effort to make 30 seconds or a 3 minute vid, but it’s such a unique type of fanwork that is fun to watch and fun to make. It can also be migraine inducing because of all the learning and technical issues along the way. But!! omg when you make a clip fall on the perfect beat with your blorbo crying that perfect tear or you find an idea and sources for the bestest perfect lyrics of the song, it’s a magnificent high. It can make you feel like a god. At least that’s how I feel a lot of times!

There are about 10 steps* to creating** a fanvid/edit:

• select your platform and software (phone/computer video editors) • gather your video and audio files • create a new project in your video editor • import audio into the editor • import the video into the software and mute audio tracks that contain your video’s audio • review, label and cut up the video into shorter clips - this step is known as ‘clipping’ in vidding parlance, but it’s also optional. Some people pull in movies and scrub through the whole film and just pull it directly onto the timeline • move the various video clips around on the timeline to match the audio track you’ve chosen for your project, add video effects and additional dialogue if you like • export the finished timeline • upload the video to a streaming platform and/or downloadable service • share your project!!! posting to ao3 and/or social media or share on discord, etc * there are a lot more steps involved with each of these steps. What what software to use, where to find video, how to deal with copyright blocks on Youtube, etc. Some of that will be covered in the links below but is not comprehensive. That would require separate posts and links and I don’t want to drop an encyclopedia on you right now! I’m happy to provide more resources that I can curate if you want more direction and pointers to resources and amazing vidders.

** like any hobby, there can and will be a learning curve and frustrations. Blank page for a writer, blank timeline for a vidder. Is anything you put down is any good, self esteem and confusion about what actually makes sense is part and parcel for any creative work. Once you're in the vidding process and committed, as long as you're enjoying yourself you gotta just keep going to get it done.

Getting Started Vidding

My knowledge and background and learning how to vid from people on livejournal and dreamwidth from 2007. I don’t have any experience in editing with a phone but if that’s something you’re interested in, YouTube will be a place for you to start finding tutorials for various apps and tools. Probably discord communities, too. Vidding Workshop - a great how-to/guide when you're starting out. This is on dreamwidth from the WisCon vidparty in 2014. Some of the tech discussions might be a little outdated but there’s a ton of relevant information. It covers technical subjects as well as developing vid ideas and actually getting started. If you have any questions about what you’re reading you can leave an anonymous comment and ask - some of these vidders responding inthe threads are still active. You can find them on AO3/YouTube, tumblr, discord and actually leave them questions about their vids. Many vidders are more than thrilled to talk about their vids and answer questions. Vexcercises - this is a dreamwidth community for short-form vid excercises. This is a very structured way of introducing vid concepts and constraints so that you can produce a vidlet. I highly recommend you check this out and participate! There’s even an AO3 collection so you can check out how people have done the different exercises, too.

The Process of Vidding

Watch Me Edit - @limblogs put together a fantastic playlist of YouTube editors who will show you beginning to end how they made their vid. A lot of these editors appear to be using Sony Vegas but the general process of vidding end-to-end will be similar with other nonlinear editors like DaVinci Resolve, Premiere, etc. It’s a great way to actually see the vid come together if you don’t know what that even looks like. Every vidder will develop their own workflow and approach (which might even change from vid to vid), but it’s useful to see in video how people actually DO the thing. @limblogs also created a handy YouTube playlist some vidders from Bradcpu’s Vidder Profiles (Fanlore page). These profiles are basically like a director’s DVD commentary on their vidding process, featuring the vidders talking over their own vids! So cool. Phenomnal insights from these vidders about how they choose song, use effects, think about their narratives.

Self Rec: I recently did a vidding textpost series called: do it for the process - a naked vid draft: What (Yennefer of Vengerberg). How I Edit by @vimesbootstheory is another textpost about their vidding process. Self rec: Here’s my text interview: Vidder Profile - Kuwdora 2011. I talk about my process with a lot of specific examples from my previous work and lots of screenshots. This profile is over a decade old but a lot of this still holds true for me today! videlicet - this is an incredible vidding zine that @limblogs put togegther with a lot of amazing contributors. These articles and discuss about specific vids and aspects of vidding. It’s really detailed and a fantastic piece of vidding culture. I highly reading recommend the Demystifying Vidding article by lim and the A History of Vidding by @meeedeee and…pretty much every article in the zine!

Doing the vidding!

I recommend joining exchanges and watching vids that come out of exchanges and checking out fannish cons that have vidshows and discords to get more exposure to vidders and vids. Many people have joined @festivids (AO3 collection here) and made their very first vid, it's a very fun and great way to get into vidding. It’s not quite festivids season right now but time flies and it will be time to nominate sources and do sign-ups in the blink of an eye. Follow @festivids and check out the AO3 collection and see what people are making. Join the Vexcercises community and make some short vids and share them on your tumblr or on discord or somewhere and bask in the thrill of making your first fanvids. Check out who reblogged the vidder ask game - go and read other vidders responses and ask some new-to-you vidders questions. Everyone has their own take on process and tech and everything. It's great to hear and see what a lot people are doing and making.

Final Advice - talking about vids and doing the vidding

• watch vids • rewatch vids • leave a comment and ask a question about something you saw in their vid! • Again: find someone’s AO3 page of fanvids and ask them something about their vid in a comment or send them asks on tumblr (people usually have the same alias or link to their tumblr or dreamwidth pages somewhere.) • YouTube can be a valuable resource for tutorials so if you don't know something, there is likely someone who has made a tutorial about how to use a cross dissolve transition or anything else you might want to replicate in a video that you've seen in a vid. • start making a vid, scream and cry, ask for help, and keep going until you get it done. Celebrate and bask in your completed vid and share it with everyone! • Follow vidders on tumblr that you find from the vidder ask game • Check out the vidding discord for community and questions and vid recs and news about vidding exchanges and cons. • Have fun!

Hope this helps you get started! Thank you so much for the ask! Let me know if you have more questions and I can help you out or send you to cool vidders who have great advice and suggestions. And please send me your vid if you make one!

[paperbackribs]

for the 'Eddie freaks out over How to Survive a Werewolf Attack' post and those who missed the upload on Ao3, this is the second part of the chapter from Steve's POV, with a little protective stobin to delight

🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇

Steve leaves the pulse of the woods behind him as he emerges from the trees that abut his backyard. He’d smelled Robin long before shifting back into his human form, the sharp mint of her shampoo mixing alongside the sweet earthiness that he now attributes to family. Never having had one, he nevertheless knows that the combination will always mean sister.

Circling the pool, its night lights cast an uncanny, rippling blue across the surface, he heads to where she sits under the warm yellow lights, propped on her elbows against the wrought-iron patio table. In her cupped hands rests a book with an overflowing tree protectively sheltering a dog and her pups, Woman and Nature carefully inscribed above them.

She stirs as he approaches, inserting a receipt between the pages to save her place and resting it beside her. Looking into her concerned eyes, Steve grimaces. “Well, that went well,” he says lightly, feeling the need to inject some humour into the memory or he may be tempted to dwell on the ache that wants to rise instead.

Robin’s face softens and he knows that she can feel his hurt even without him saying it. They’re so connected sometimes that he wonders if his wolf forged something with her when they’d sat there, bound and interrogated by Russians, only able to depend on each other. “He was a little freaked out from the unexpected is all and he just needs to get used to the idea before…”

She trails off and Steve finishes her sentence, “Before he can be in the same room as me? Robs, the guy practically had a panic attack on my mother’s Giorgetti rug. I could smell his fear: he was terrified that I was going to eat him or something.”

Robin’s lips firm as she drums her fingers over the book cover, “Yeah, well, that’s his problem. After you left, we gave him the rundown; that you’re just a normal wolf—”

Steve snorts: there’s nothing normal about his transformations at all, but Robin ignores him to continue, “—and hopefully if he’s affected by the bites then it’ll turn him into a normal bat too.”

“And how’d he take that?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh, another meltdown,” Robin says blithely, “He’s now convinced that he’s going to turn into Bela Lugosi and will be prowling the night for his victims before we know it.” Steve laughs despite himself, already able to imagine Eddie making exaggerated gestures in the middle of the group.

“Did he hiss like a vampire?”

“Nah, but he did do that thing, you know with the cape?” She shields half her face with her forearm as if hiding menacingly behind it. Fond amusement fills Steve, as if often does when faced with Eddie’s dramatics only for it to quickly drain away at the reminder of how drastically he had taken Steve’s shift.

Robin notes his change of mood and scowls at an absent Eddie. “Scaredy-cat,” she mutters darkly, “Should have called him a scaredy-bat to his face.”

Steve chuckles and leans forward to gently tug on a lock of her blonde hair, “And then give him my nail bat…”

“So, he’d be a scaredy-bat with a nail bat that lost his bat-le shield.”

Steve waggles his hand in a so-so motion, “Could use some work.”

“Oh, screw you, buddy, I did all the work,” Robin’s eyes dance with humour even as she pokes him with a sharp finger at his ribs. Steve squirms away, “I gave you the nail bat!” He mock protests before the image of Eddie’s wide and terrified eyes crosses his mind again. He sighs, “Do you think I should avoid him for a while? Let him get used to the idea before springing myself on him again?”

Robin leans back with a too wide smile, its awkwardness immediately transparent. “What?” Steve asks suspiciously.

Her brow furrows in an apology that gives lie to the smile, “We’re meeting back here tomorrow. El thinks that she might be able to lead him through a change if he’s got it in him, and we all thought it better to get the potential of it all out of the way before Eddie devolves into one big puddle of fear.”

Rubbing the bridge of his forehead, Steve sighs, “So, not only is he freaked out by the sight of me but I’m going to see him in the next twenty-four hours.”

Robin looks at her bulky men’s watch with a grimace, “More like twelve. We figured that we should get it over sooner or later, and this way he can work out whether he wants to freak out over being a bat or a vampire.”

“Or neither,” Steve points out.

She shrugs, “It seems unlikely, right? Correlation doesn’t equal causation, and you may be the outlier, the one cool weirdo out there.”

“Thank you,” he says dryly even though he does appreciate her positive spin on his furry little situation.

It had been months after the events over Halloween, when he’d been bitten by a demo-dog, that he’d started to notice the first few small changes. At first, he’d been convinced that it was the world that had transformed: smells becoming deeper, sights becoming sharper, but after one night where he had been panicked to find that his feet were no longer so far away, and suspiciously clawed, that he’d come to the realisation that it was his senses that had evolved, not the sun or the trees or the perfume of his history teacher.

The kids, while excited, had been very little help, but their encouragement had made him feel less alone. He took Dustin’s attempt to turn him into a science experiment in stride and as an extension of the little butthead’s support. But it was when Robin had been brought into the Upside Down fold that he’d felt truly embraced.

Surprisingly, rather than turning to books and research, she’d listened to him instead. Asked Steve what he wanted to be called when he was turned and let him talk about the oddities and freedoms he’d found in this new version of himself.

Steve had already known that the wolf would be a part of him forever, but Robin’s role in his life had cemented that feeling into a bone-deep acceptance, an understanding that he wasn’t weird or wrong for his new transformation, but that it was simply another part of Steve. Or Furry Steve as Robin would gently tease him.

“Are you staying over?” He asks now, watching her smother a yawn and nod in agreement.

He stands, waiting until she walks through the door before flipping the light switch off, the flurry of moths above flutter in confusion at the sudden darkness. “We can practise some more on the way home tomorrow if you like.”

Robin had gained her license a month ago, but with no car to drive Steve was building her confidence by having her drive his. She often teased that their love was a true one since she’s the only one allowed to touch the bimmer.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, they walk through the kitchen and head to his bedroom in unspoken agreement. “That’d be great. Do you want to wolf-out or be on your side of the bed,” she counters sleepily, leaving her book on the counter as they pass.

He hums, thinking. Months ago, after they’d worked out that the Upside Down nightmares were better handled when they knew the other one was in the room, Robin had struggled with having Steve in her bed.

It’s not that he wasn’t welcome, she’d reassured him, or wanted, she’d said with a haunted expression, clearly thinking of having woken up silently screaming not moments before. But having his skin touch hers made her irritable in a way that she had no explanation for. Fur, however, was fine.

Since then, if Steve needed cuddles he was allowed to wolf-out, as they decided to call it. Once transformed, Robin had no problem with Steve’s fur covering her skin; rather, she quite liked the partial weight of his body.

He thinks that tonight he’d like the reassurance that there is one person who is not only unafraid of him but likes the differences that make him not-quite-human.

“Wolf-out,” he responds, letting go and allowing the wolf to unfold. The sweet musk of the kids sharpens, even with them having departed hours ago, as does the appealingly darker scent of Eddie, although it is bitterer than it normally is as if his fear had saturated the small space.

His tail drops sadly at the reminder, but Robin distracts him with scritches behind the ear before leading their way up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve pads behind, happy to have a friend in Robin and determinedly putting Eddie out of his mind for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed any of this drop me a comment over at Ao3, it'd make my day! (fic now titled Swift Wings and a Brave Heart)

[otomiyaa]

Terms & Conditions

Alhaitham x Kaveh

A/N: First fic I'm uploading on the new blog (yolo) and gift for @xsezzie sama pos because, well. Because. The pose in this fic was inspired by this art by @ppystkposts :)

Summary: Alhaitham proposes to discuss the new terms and conditions for living together with Kaveh. (Also on AO3)

Word Count: 1.8K

Letters, a lot of them. Kaveh squinted his eyes and looked up at Alhaitham who had just presented him with a document that would take years of his life, just to read.

"What's this?" he asked. Alhaitham tapped the document as if Kaveh was an idiot.

"A new agreement. I figured, it's been a little over a year since you moved in with me. We can extend the contract, if you like."

Kaveh glared at him, then scanned the huge agreement. It was a long piece of paper with so many letters. What was Alhaitham plotting all of a sudden?

"....Have there been any problems?" Kaveh wondered.

Alhaitham shook his head. "So far, no. But there might be. Sign this and we'll give it another go for the next year."

Kaveh read the beginning of the contract and hummed. How cold. It was a fact that his relationship with Alhaitham had kind of moved on to the more... intimate kind. They kissed, they shared a bed, wasn't that the definition of dating? But yeah, it was also a fact that Kaveh was living here, in Alhaitham's house. It wasn't like they were married or something...

Still, to be treated like a mere tenant, it kind of stung. Was it maybe related to the fact that he lowered Kaveh's rent earlier due to Kaveh really struggling financially? Wasn't it an act out of empathy from Alhaitham, and he had stopped trusting him ever since now that he lived here for a cheap price?

Kaveh sighed, skipped all of the nonsense which was obviously just Alhaitham being boring about guarantees for losing his key, rent payment, Kaveh's list of domestic duties, standard rules about not damaging his belongings and such, so he took the pen Alhaitham handed to him and signed.

"There. Happy? I signed," Kaveh said, and he crossed his arms. Alhaitham nodded.

"Thank you. Well then, that settles it. This agreement is effective starting today. Now as for point 7.2," Alhaitham said, and Kaveh frowned.

"I would like to make use of it immediately. So please," he gestured to the couch. "Come with me."

Kaveh quickly jumped in front of him and stopped him with a hand on Alhaitham's chest.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Alhaitham grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

"The thing you agreed to. The condition for living with me. We are doing it now."

Huh! Kaveh struggled when Alhaitham dragged him towards the couch and managed to pull himself free.

"What do you even meanー" He rushed back to the table and checked the contract again. There were a total of 12 segments, so 7.2 was obviously overlooked like most things he only scanned briefly. It was hidden under the category 'domestic duties' and...

Kaveh's eyes widened and he blushed.

"...Will subject to complimentary tickle session for once a w-w-week? What the...?" Kaveh said in a pitchy voice. His mouth opened wide at the realization that this must be because...

Last night... He blushed even more at the memory.

He kind of tickled Alhaitham brutally, teasing him about his sensitivity and laughter. And then managed to fight him off effectively when Alhaitham tried to return the favor, with Kaveh childishly threatening him to spread the word all around Sumeru about their most ticklish scholar, if he wouldn't let him go. Sumeru already knew how ticklish Kaveh was, so there was no way to return the threat for Alhaitham and he let it rest. Only to retaliate with a comeback like this?!

"I can't believe you included a rule like that. You tricked me. I didn't agree to that."

"Yet you did. You signed your name, I saw it with my own eyes. It's not my fault you didn't read all the terms and conditions. So," Alhaitham sat on the couch and patted his lap.

"Come here. I'll be gentle."

Kaveh took a step back and shuddered. "No way man! You can't make me."

"Well, I won't force you. But I will, how should I put it. I would be very disappointed if you break our contract right after signing it." To make things worse, Alhaitham gave him the worst puppy look he had ever seen on his usually expressionless face.

Kaveh gasped. Alhaitham was such a trickster! And still...! He clenched his fist and stomped towards him.

"Fine. But seriously, once a week?" he asked, moving over to where Alhaitham was sitting.

"Could have been once a day, but I thought that would overdo it. Besides, it's my fingers that will do all the work."

"Or once a month, once a year, or never at all," Kaveh grumbled, shyly sitting on Alhaitham's lap and deciding to ignore that comment about Alhaitham's damn fingers doing 'all the work'.

"Like this?" he asked, leaning back.

"More like this..." Alhaitham said, and before Kaveh could protest, he had flexibly positioned Kaveh's arms under his legs, pinning them down with ease.

"Will keep you from moving around," Alhaitham explained. Well duh, Mr. Obvious. Kaveh squirmed nervously and looked up at him, now suddenly realizing what he had gotten himself into. Willingly...

"H-h-how long?" he asked, gazing at Alhaitham's fingers that were flexing above his tummy. To make things worse, Alhaitham even took his shirt and moved it up, revealing his bare skin.

"Hmm, for as long as you can go," Alhaitham said, wiggling his fingers above Kaveh's bare stomach and making him twitch already.

"A-and who decides that?" Kaveh asked. Alhaitham then smirked.

"I do."

As soon as his fingers made contact with his ticklish tummy, Kaveh instantly made a noise.

"HYAhh! Ahahalhaitham hohohold on!"

"No, we're starting."

"Buhhuhut - ahahaha!" Kaveh wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. After accidentally signing an agreement that included this exact tickle treatment, and then voluntarily letting Alhaitham do his thing, you'd expect he knew what he was getting himself into. But only now that he was really feeling the tickling, it started to sink in, and oh shit he had never been in such a helpless and vulnerable position before.

"I quite like this position," Alhaitham said, pressing Kaveh's arms even tighter against the couch while his fingers danced mercilessly all over his bare stomach, scribbling around and over his belly button and pinching and squeezing his sides every now and then.

"Nohoho! You ahahare the wohohorst!" Kaveh roared.

"I know," Alhaitham agreed. Kaveh thought it was going to be just tummy tickles, again he was such a naive little fool. As soon as Alhaitham's fingers moved further up, pushing his shirt further up and climbing up his ticklish ribs, he jumped and let out a loud hysterical shriek.

"NAHAh nonono not thehehere!" he protested.

"Where?" Alhaitham dug in carefully between his lower ribs and slowly wiggled them upwards where he stayed at his upper ribs, his fingers doing devil's work there. Kaveh was losing his mind.

"PLEhehe-plehehease! Hehehehe! Tihihime out!"

"Already?" Alhaitham asked.

"Soohoon plehehease whahaha!" Kaveh laughed breathlessly. How embarrassing. So humiliating that he couldn't take more than that. But this position in which he really couldn't move, it was like no other tickle attack he had ever experienced. Alhaitham sighed and finally stopped, resting his hands against Kaveh's heaving chest.

"I will let you catch your breath," Alhaitham said, and his eyes shifted for a little. Kaveh's eyes widened, he knew where he was looking.

"N-n-not my ahaharmpits," he laughed nervously.

"I'm sure you can take just a little bit of that. I've been quite gentle so far," Alhaitham said. Gentle! W-well that was true, actually. He hadn't been as rough, as ahem, other times. But yeah, those were entirely different. It was funny they would sometimes roughhouse and have some crazy silly tickle fights, but this 'tickle session' just couldn't compare to it all.

"Ready?" Alhaitham asked.

"No," Kaveh replied cockily, and he stuck out his tongue. So naturally, Alhaitham's fingers reached his armpits and started to tickle. Kaveh threw his head back and howled.

"Daaaahahaahaamn ahahahah!" Alhaitham was relentless. He tickled both armpits for as long Kaveh could endure, but when one hand moved back and picked up the tummy tickle torture, things weren't much better for Kaveh who could hardly breathe through his hysterical laughing fit. His legs kicked helplessly and he shook his head from side to side.

"AHahahalhaithahaham! Nahahah- ahahaha plehehease!"

Alhaitham smirked at him, looking so unbelievably satisfied with himself and his result from his stupid prank.

"AHahaha-ALHAITHAHAM!" Kaveh shrieked.

"Yes?" He finally got a reply.

"AHAhaha! No mohohore! Waahaahha!" Kaveh had no idea how long it had been. But at last, Alhaitham seemed to decide that Kaveh had reached his limit.

Kaveh's arms were released, but he was too tired to move away and just tiredly rested in Alhaitham's lap, breathing heavily and gasping for air.

"That - was - insane," he panted, but he couldn't stop smiling. His voice also sounded like it had changed pitch permanently. Geez. It felt like an entire workout.

For a moment they stayed in silence, and nothing could be heard except Kaveh's loud breaths.

Surprisingly, Alhaitham was the first to speak then. "You didn't read the rest, did you?"

"What rest?" Kaveh asked, annoyed again about that lame agreement trick. He was never going to sign anything ever again without reading every single letter.

"Well," Alhaitham said, and he paused.

"...At 7.2.1. for example, it says that I am only allowed to tickle you that one time a week. So, you'll probably like that. Unless you give me permission to do it more often, of course," Alhaitham explained, caressing Kaveh's hair.

Huh? Alhaitham was so talkative now, Kaveh had to let those words sink in. Hmm, so he could only tickle Kaveh that one time a week, unless Kaveh literally gave him permission to tickle him more?

Even after enduring all this, the sudden thought of limiting Alhaitham's tickle attacks to just once a week... All of a sudden it didn't sound like a lot, he thought as he remembered some of the times when Alhaitham playfully retaliated during tickle fights, and those triumphant moments when Kaveh would win. Not to mention the playful and affectionate tickles when they were in bed... He blushed and mumbled something.

"What did you say?" Alhaitham asked.

"Of all the nonsense on that stinking contract, can you at least revoke that one particular rule? It sucks."

"...7.2.1? The one that forbids me from tickling you ever outside our once-a-week session?" Al-Bastard-Haitham asked.

"...Yes."

Kaveh could die from embarrassment, but luckily the only response from Alhaitham was: "Alright. I think I could do that."

Then in that exact same position, Kaveh fell asleep, resting comfortably on Alhaitham and trapping him on the couch.

Not that Alhaitham complained. He had his book nearby, as always, so he grabbed it and started to read, while his free hand fondly stroked Kaveh's hair. Now that felt actually really good.

Note: This fic was loosely inspired by the movie Wonka.

[jsmifty]

ONE MORE NIGHT FNAF AU CHARACTERS - THE SUIT - Part 1

Above is the SpringBonnie suit from my FNAF AU/rewrite called "ONE MORE NIGHT".

More info under the cut!

This is the first of many posts showing off some of the characters designs. I will talk more about the AU itself in other posts, however since this is the first I might as well give a basic rundown, it will be at the bottom of this post. William Afton himself will get his own post but this is just about his suit.

Anyway. This is the SpringBonnie suit from my FNAF rewrite!

I never really liked the completely butt naked suits, it always looked really weird to me. Generally when i draw the other animatronics I stick to the basic canon design (without the clothes), but with Springbonnie I realllyyyy prefer the design with some clothing over the top. idk why, it just makes him look siller.

Also if those things are being worn, I can imagine they're stinking hot during the summer, and I know the three piece suit is probably no better for keeping cool but at least he looks cool while dying of heatstroke. :)

There is also an animatronic version version of the suit of course!

Axe > Knife

The suit (SpringBonnie) was made as a suprise gift for William for the opening (By Henry Emily).

The suit has two varients. The summer varient, and the other one. Specifically in the hotter seasons, the suit is only worn with the head, paws and feet + usually a purple suit.

The other version, is the full suit, which covers the full body (is featured in the small doodle to the left). The full suit sometimes features a bowtie, or an undercoat (just to decorate it a little). And you'd be suprised by how quickly it can be put on. William got springlocked in this version specifically.

When specifically William wears the suit, his hair being too long, pokes out from underneath the head of the suit. It sometimes gets tangled in the springlocks! This makes it difficult to take off, ESPECIALLY if the springlocks are released.

Some more art of him (all a bit old):

---------------------------------------------------

The rewrite, which will be uploaded to Ao3, is split into 4 to 5 parts (it will be put into an folder on Ao3 to make it more organized). The timeline follows off canon for the most part, however most of the events have been organized into a specific timeline. The order of the games specifically that I am following is below.

(if the text is unreadable: FNAF 4 → FNAF 2 + Sister Location → FNAF 1 → FNAF 3 → FNAF 6)

PART ONE is centred before the main six games, and overlaps FNAF 4. It is centred around Henry Emily and William Afton (and their families) during the early stages of their animatronic making endeavours.

The other 3-4 parts have been planned out but I won't talk about them that much right now.

The AU leans a lot more on the characters, their motivations, and their relationships with other characters. It focuses more on telling the story in full than in hints, like the games do.

It is likely not going to be completely accurate to canon, so if the timeline changes with new FNAF releases then big whomp I've already made a timeline and I'm not touching that thing again.

If anyone wants like, a clearer rundown of what the fic is about if you are interested please feel free to comment or go on my asks i really appreciate any interest shown in this project, its annoyingly important to me LMAO

IF YOU READ THIS FAR, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! like I yap so much, and this is me holding back and ive already written wayyyy to much for a singular tumblr post :( but yeah

If you'd like to see a specific character from FNAF in my AU/Rewrite, feel free to ask!!!!!!!

[monayen]

Ouuu maybe something where Sebastian finally snaps ( ´ ▽ ` )

there is like no fics about him x reader!

Hungry | Sebastian

➷ Paring - Sebastian x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - Noncon, fingering, choking, breath play, rough, mental break, unsafe sex

a/n - sometimes it hits me that im writing freakiness with a character who has de tomato smith chicken legs in his name. yes i'm still writing... inbox open for any requests or ideas, i love to see them still :3 (oh and if you like charlie from smiling friends i have a fic uploaded on my ao3)

Sebastian doesn't know how long it's been since he's had a good meal. His stomach aches for something delicious, and he can feel how his body slightly trembles at the growing malnutrition.

He's gotten used to a lot of things since his “adoption”, but hunger isn't one of them. The mush Randal attempts to give is questionably edible (and probably not safe for the human body) and Luther believes a “sustainable” mixture of bland, flavorless ingredients is enough to satiate.

The pressure in his head can also be accredited to Randal’s voice. He's lost track of what he's rambling about today. Something about ghosts, he deduces, and he much prefers not to listen. He just wants to go to sleep, he really does, but his throat itches and he's reminded that Randal has neglected once again to refill his water bowl. 

“Can I, uh, get some water?” Sebastian asks, interrupting the trainwreck-train of thought spewing out of Randal’s mouth. “I thought you got water like three days ago! You thirsty boy.” Randal cocks his head to the side and Sebastian can only sigh in response.

“I need it every day. Food and water every day.” It's fruitless to try to get him to remember, but his lightheadedness is getting worse, and he just wants to be properly taken care of. 

Randal shrugs, turning his focus to one of his dolls, tugging at the flimsy cloth arm before it completely rips off. A dark, small thing crawls out of the fluff, and immediately scampers into a vent in Randal’s room. He doesn't note it and tosses the torn doll to a shadowy corner in his room, probably not to be seen again.

“Eh, go ask someone else.”

Sebastian doesn't waste time to exit the room, already cycling to the next person who could actually listen to him. He grits, the ache growing in his stomach and head becoming almost unbearable. 

He just needs to find you, which… he doesn't actually know where you are. As much as he’s tried to understand this house, it's complicated and confusing. It brings him back to his thoughts of you. 

You're everything this house isn't.

You’ve been here longer than him, listed as one of Luther’s pets. However, you’ve seemed to actually gain some independence from that. Different from the adherents that are Nyen and Nyon, instead being more akin to a housemate. 

You also don't seem to have any of the… oddities that everyone else has. No crude whiskers or unblinking eyes. You’re allowed your own wardrobe, nothing like the frills and puffs he has to wear. It's almost taunting how pretty and kempt you are.

It’s actually a bit interesting how Luther could allow this, but he assumes you pull your own weight enough to be well fed and unbothered. Sebastian scoffs, how fortunate is that?

Both of you haven't actually interacted that much, and it only serves to add to that untouchable status he's framed around you.

You are in your own world, independent and capable of leaving. But you don't. You continue to stay and wander around the house without a care. While Sebastian is stuck as a poor entertainer at for a bizarre young man, scrambling for any chance of freedom.

Despite this, you don't actually torment him in any way that matters. His envy does run deep, but you're the closest thing to a saving grace right now. He knows the catmen don't really care, and Luther might just shoo him away like the nuisance he is.

Finally, after checking room after room, he spots you sitting on a vintage leather couch with an unmarked book resting on your lap that definitely would be hard to read with how dim the lights are. 

He hovers in the doorway, unsure how to start a conversation. His eyes also don't know where exactly to look, do you realize your skirt is riding up?

You beat him to say something, looking up at him through your lashes, “Hi Sebastian. Do you need something?”

You're as courteous as ever, offering a small smile that doesn't help at all to calm Sebastian’s nerves. 

“Do you have anything to eat?”

You set aside your book and give him a look he can't place. Now up and off your seat to get closer to him, he can see how your brows furrow and lips purse. Suddenly, soft hands grip at the side of his face, and he stammers reactively.

“God, you look terrible. You poor thing.” It comes out sickly sweet, the proximity only heightening the warmth spreading over his freckled face. 

“I–I know…” He sighs, not moving from your touch, “Please, can you just feed me?” 

It sounds pathetic, but at this point he's practically begging for something, anything from you. He relaxes when he hears you giggle, hands leaving his face. 

He sees you walk over to the nightstand drawer beside the couch, rummaging through it before pulling out… a stick of jerky and a juice-pouch, setting it on top in all it's glory.

It isn't much, but it's enough for Sebastian to practically salivate and let out a sound of relief. It could be stale for all he cares, as long as he can taste the added sugar and salt, he’s happy. He almost wants to jump into your arms and thank you.

“Ah, that's perfect–”

You cut him off, a smile planted on your face, “What are you going to do for it?” 

It catches Sebastian completely off guard, mouth agape, “What?” 

You don't falter at all, sitting on the couch as you stare at Sebastian’s shaking figure, “C’mon, you play with Randal all the time, don't you? How about we play something?” 

Sebastian doesn't know how to respond. He's tired, hungry, and growing frustrated. Your voice stays sweet and it provokes a realization, how stupid is it to think you of all people could give him some slack? You aren't any different than the rest of these weirdos, no matter how you hold yourself. 

His stomach growls on cue, and Sebastian can't seem to shake this feverish feeling anymore.

You notice the lack of a response, his face shaded by the dim lighting. Deciding to only poke him further, “...Unless, you aren't really that hungry.”

You don't realize how his fists ball on the side of him, teeth slightly gritting to push out his words, “Just give it.” 

A small laugh leaves your grinning mouth, teasing and like nails on a chalkboard to Sebastian’s ears, “Ooo,” You sing, “feisty!” 

Sebastian’s nostrils flare for a second, seemingly thinking something. He’s red, and his lips tremble ever so slightly. You stare intensely as he pauses and huffs before making his way towards the nightstand. 

“Another time.” He simply states, an unrecognizable irk coating his words. You don't allow this, grabbing his arm as he reaches out for the food.

“I said,” The same saccharine smile stays across your face, “what are you going to do for it?

A switch almost seems to flip in Sebastian’s brain. You don't get to comment on the deep redness that adorns his cheeks, before he suddenly grips you by your shoulders and pins you down on the couch.

Yelping, you trash against his grasp as he hovers over you. He's breathing heavily, his chest drumming up and down as you push your hands against it.

“W-wait!” Sebastian doesn't care about what you have to say. It's all stupid words, stupid words out of your pretty mouth. His head is still reeling, and he doesn't know where the strength to keep you down is coming from.

All he knows is that he's the one with control right now. Something he hasn't had for a long time.

“Stop moving!” He huffs, eyes wide as he grasps the bottom of your shirt and bra, flipping it up to expose you.

His movements are almost thoughtless, as if a ghost possessed him to cup your breast and snake fingers between your thighs. Thoughtless doesn't make it any less rough, and soon enough your bottom half is exposed too.

“Listen, Sebastian, you– you can just have it! I was only messing around!” You try to excuse yourself, but his hand remains groping at your body like you're the first soft thing he's had to hold in forever.  As if you're going to be ripped away from his hands at any second. 

His erection pokes at your pinned down hip, the fabric of his outfit practically straining him. “I don't listen to you.” Sebastian spits, nor loud or quiet. 

It's directly for you to hear.

More words sprew from his mouth. “You think you can just taunt me? Mess with me? Like everyone else?” They come out faster than you can respond, jaw hanging open to croak out any excuse. 

“Shut up, I don't wanna hear it.” He suddenly moves and flips you over onto your stomach, head pressed down onto the aged leather of the couch, hands forced behind your back.

“I need this.” Those words are whispered to himself, low and dark. If you could look at him directly in the face, you’d see the cloudy look overcasting his eyes, the sweat that builds on his forehead, and the furrow of his brows as he looks at your figure. The dim room isn't enough to hide you.

All you can see is leather and flipped strands of hair in your vision. Instead you can only focus on the sound of his deep, shaky breath. Along with the sound of him shuffling to remove his own clothes. He moves on top of you, lanky body pressing against your behind, practically caging you. So close that it's hard to thrash around. And even if you could, you'd only be pushing up against him more.

You gasp when he puts his skinny fingers between your thighs, spreading you apart with a swift motion. Sebastian doesn't waste any time in pushing his fingers inside of you, hunched over as he continues to whisper to himself.

The pounding of your heart is loud in your own ears, you're sure he can hear how it patters against the couch more when he decides to curl his fingers. You whine, almost unintentionally arching at how good it shouldn't feel. But it does, and he knows because he lets out a laugh, “You like this?” It sounds both mocking and genuine.

The leather muffles you, but you manage to moan out a “No–” to which Sebastian seethes at. He leans into your ear, fingers still pumping into your heat. “Don’t lie. You– you wouldn't be this wet if you didn't.” 

You’re unsure if Sebastian is trying to convince himself or you. The slight waver in his voice pairs with the hastiness of his fingers, itching to draw out more moans from your mouth. It’s impossible to ignore the several digits Sebastian pumps into you, him noticing how your thighs begin to quake and muscles tighten around his fingers. As quickly you're brought to the edge, Sebastian retracts. You whine at the now empty sensation, practically huffing like a brat. You don't even realize. Now his hand grips at your side of your hips, your own wetness uncomfortable on your skin. 

“Maybe you’ll like this more.” Sebastian whispers, prodding at your entrance with this length. It’s hard to speak with how he continues to push your head down into the cushion, though any denial would fall on deaf ears even if you could. He slips in too easily, practically bottoming out the second your tightness wraps around him.

Sebastian is all too loud, words and moans mixing into pure nonsense. You wonder why nobody has heard anything yet. The door isn’t even locked. He doesn't care at all it seems, too engrossed in the feeling inside you to even consider the consequences of being caught. 

Sebastian’s hand on the back of your head releases, and you think maybe he’ll let you turn. Maybe you’ll actually be able to scream properly for Luther with air properly filling your lungs and mouth not pressed against leather. He isn’t slowing down at all though, his hips snapping roughly against your ass. A hand snakes around the back of your throat and squeezes, your heart dropping at the growing pressure on your windpipes. 

Sebastian's grip on your throat tightens, the need to claim something, anything, overtaking him. He's spent. He's so close, and he's not about to stop now. He's on the brink, and the feeling of you tightening around him, the way you're almost helpless under him, only serves to push him further.

You can't breathe, your eyes widening frantically, and the only thing you can manage to do is grip the couch. The lack of air is making your vision blur as Sebastian continues to thrust into you, not seeming to notice or care. Your mind begins to swim, the dim room now spinning in your vision.

It's a terrifyingly intense sensation, being so close to the edge yet being choked, the mix of pleasure and pain leaving you feeling dizzy. Your body betrays you, arching and pulsating at the rapid thrusts. Croaking out whatever air left in your lungs, you come with a shudder, your muscles gripping Sebastian’s cock as he continues to pound into you.

Sebastian follows with a guttural moan, thrusts becoming more erratic as he reaches his own climax, shooting into you. The hand around your throat tightens momentarily, before finally releasing, sending you gasping for air. He practically collapses on top of you, his own breath heavy. 

He still holds you against the couch, though you wouldn't have the strength to move him to begin with. You feel the shuffle of him getting off on top of you, finally pulling out with a small groan and letting you at least get onto your side. He now lays beside you, body wrapped over yours. The couch barely fits you both, all you can feel is the heat of both your bodies and the sensation of wetness dripping between your thighs. 

Sebastian nuzzles against you like a baby. He looks exhausted, eyes shut and brows furrowed. You look to find any empathy—any guilt. It isn't there. If anything, he looks content. As if you both will stay like this forever. 

“You're right.” He murmurs, a soft rasp in his voice you aren't used to. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty : like real people do (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 8.4k

summary : princess and din spend another day together, chasing a feeling of normalcy

warnings, etc. : language, angst, slight discussions of pregnancy, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral f!receiving, soooo much talking during sex, dom/sub vibes, a lot of sex

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. His snores bounce off the walls of the closet and his head rests against your chest as you let your fingers comb through his hair.

Mando has always taken. (Not that you mind.) But Din liked to give. 

Is it selfish to want both?

If it is then you might just be a selfish person. How could you not? You’ve been presented with a man who has quite literally made a point to worship you, a man who is your heart. Your kar’ta.

Maybe you could tease him into man-handling you today. It probably wouldn’t be hard to do, not that you don’t love how gentle he was with you last night, it just made you hungry.

Hungry for more of him. 

And if you’re being selfish, you might as well admit to yourself that you want it all.   

You want it all.

No shame in thinking about it. 

You want to walk through the street holding his hand, you want to worship him the way he worships you, and you want to wake up like this. Skin against skin, tangled in the sheets.

You want to be his, and for him to be yours.

You want everything. 

You want people to know that he is yours.

Maybe someday you want kids.

None of these things are practical. You know that, but you can want them.

“He isn’t going to touch you. Ever again. I never should have let him in the first place.”

Din doesn’t want to share. Maybe he won’t. He’s clearly capable of things, maybe he really can protect you from your husband. 

It’s a nice dream.

Speaking of nice dreams, he stirs a little in his sleep, his hands slide across your spine, under you as his snores stutter for a moment before leveling back out.

His face is pressed against your chest and you can feel his breath on your flesh, occasionally his lips move against you as he mumbles to no one. You let your hands roam a little, to give you a vague outline of him. 

There’s a prominent scar on the back of his head, a thin line with a slight indent where his hair doesn’t grow. 

Letting your fingers gently graze down his neck you can feel the mess of curls there, all of varying lengths. Maybe someday he’d let you cut his hair for him. In all honesty though, that’s the one thing you don’t want from him. 

Or at least you don’t need it.

You care about him too much to want to see his face. Sure you’re curious but you’d never ask for such a thing. 

His back and shoulders have it the worst. You can feel the lines that stick out on his skin and indents from old wounds healed over. It’s still a little surprising how much bulk the armor adds. He’s remarkably broad but considerably more lithe than you ever would have thought. And he’s softer. You know what he’s capable of, obviously he’s a former bounty hunter, he’s toned but there’s something about him that’s soft.

His skin is soft, the way he holds you is gentle, like he’s being careful.

Would he allow you to see his body? 

You’ve seen parts already, his hands, and other things. But now that you can feel all of the scars he has you’d like to see them, and ask him how he got them. 

You wish you knew what time it was. How much time you have left like this, perfect and undisturbed. But there’s responsibilities. One of them being the fact that you have dinner with Kodo tonight. Almost as if he sensed your distress his snores stop and he presses a kiss against your breast. 

“Is it morning sarad?” His voice is thick with sleep.

“I think so.” You manage to mumble back. 

“What do you want to do today?” He yawns as he says it and lifts himself off of you briefly, when he lays back down you feel steel against your skin and his voice is modulated. 

“I thought we could go back into the city.” You let your hand settle between his shoulder blades. “I wanted to help out the woman I met yesterday. She was telling me about her daughter's store.”

“Mhmm.” 

“And then I have dinner with Kodo.” 

He doesn’t have a response to that but you note that his entire body tenses up. 

It makes you want to do something for him. 

To remind him that you care for him as much as he cares for you. And to make him forget that at the end of every week he has to escort you back to your husband.

“And after that I thought maybe we could go to your cabin if that’s alright.” 

He relaxes the tiniest bit. 

“That’s more than alright.” His hands start to move down, from your hips to your thighs. “What did you want to do once we got there?” 

“I have a little surprise for you.” You gasp out as he squeezes your thighs, sitting up on his knees to get a better angle. 

“What do you want to do before all that?”

Him.

Stay like this forever.

Ignore the knocking on your bedroom door.

Kriff.

The girls. 

You’re sitting up in an instant, scrambling around in the darkness, trying to find your discarded nightie. Thankfully he senses your panic as he flips the switch for the lamp, dimly illuminating the closet as you hear the girls start milling about the main room. 

You find the thin white fabric slipping it on quickly before stumbling to your feet. Din seems to be in a state of shock, sitting still in the silence so you grab the first dress you find. 

“Just- shit, just stay here, I’ll come get you when they’re gone.” Is all you whisper before you rush out, quickly shutting the closet door behind you, the girls staring at you in silence. 

“Good morning, my lady.” Elaine speaks first, her voice hesitant as she takes in your disheveled form. Thankfully they waste no time getting you into your routine, in the light of the main room you get a good look at yourself in the mirror as they change you into new undergarments. 

It’s not a great look. 

You know that. 

You aren’t wearing panties and your thighs are littered with bite marks. Both the girls gawk at you and there really is nothing to say so you don’t bother. There’s no possible excuse for this. They dress you in silence, at one point Elaine laughs but covers it with a cough. 

Other than that everything seems to be going smoothly until you see Lysa going towards the closet to fetch you some shoes and you nearly tumble out of your chair at the vanity as you turn around to stop her. 

“No!” Everyone freezes in place and you can feel your face getting hot as you stumble over your words. “Sorry, I just- I-I’ll get them. Thank you though, but I’ll get them.” There’s a long moment of silence before they both look to the closet and then back at you. 

“...Okay?” Elaine says it like she’s trying to calm you as you frantically look between the two of them. 

You really know how to make a bad situation worse. They finish dressing you quickly, the dress you grabbed is rather pretty. A dark red top contrasting a long champagne tulle skirt with stars all along the bottom. If you weren’t currently so flustered you’d probably admire it more. 

They work swiftly on your hair and makeup, leaving it as simple as possible before rushing out. Once they’re in the hall you can hear them whispering and laughing, you hear Lysa say something about how the Mandalorian is not at his post outside your door. 

Your face is getting hot all over again and it doesn’t help when the second they’re gone the closet door swings open and Din steps out, already back in all of his armor. 

It’s like you have a school yard crush on him as you stare at him, twisting your hands a bit in front of you. 

You had been tangled in each other's bodies not even an hour ago yet you’re flustered just staring at him.

Not wanting to make a fool of yourself by stumbling over your words you just turn on your heel and head out the door, with him following closely behind. 

“Leo!” You yell, the moment you close the door behind you, the Mandalorian standing firmly at your side as Leodall hurries towards you, bowing.

“Good morning, ma’am, how can I help you?”

You give him a polite smile.

“I’m going to be going into the city today, I’d like some credits please.” With that he rushes off and you stand in the hall, staring at Din with a smile.

“You’re going to run the royal family's funds dry at this rate.” He whispers, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“What a shame that would be.” You mutter back as Leo makes his hasty return, handing you the coin purse which you hand off the Din, Leo rushing away in the opposite direction. 

★

You go through the usual routine of getting your trackers and you eagerly step out of the gates into the street. Din dismisses the speeder to your delight as you begin to walk through the street, it’s still rather early and it seems like most vendors are heading towards the market streets or opening their shops, you make an effort to smile and wave at as many people as possible. 

While you walk he matches your speed, staying next to you but not touching you, he leans down to whisper. 

“You look nice.” The rasp in his voice makes you tingly as you feel your face getting hot. He sounds like he’s still waking up.

“Thank you.” You whisper back, not bothering to lean towards him, knowing he’ll hear you. 

It’s the dumbest thing to get all hot and bothered about but outside of sex he doesn’t really compliment you like that, it feels… normal. Like something a normal couple would do. 

You make a beeline towards what you know to be the woman you met yesterday’s store. Din stays close behind you as you push open the shop door, a little bell jingles as you step into what appears to be a standard supermarket, you recognize the woman at the front counter to be Vivian’s daughter, giving her a smile you approach, asking where Vivian is and being taken towards the back, Din stays silent as he follows. 

In the back storage rooms you’re pleased to find the older woman at a table along with a small surprise waiting for you.

“You actually came back?” She’s got a shocked grin on her face as you sit next to her at the table where she appears to be putting labels on different fruits and vegetables. 

“Of course I did, I said I would.” You smile at her before smiling at the toddler in her lap, you recognize him from yesterday, one of the younger boys playing with your Mandalorian, the one who kept drooling on Din’s armor, you give him a small wave. “Hello, little one.” 

He waves back at you, currently drooling on an apple slice and what appears to be a permanent frown plastered on his face. 

You look at Din, holding out your hand for the coin purse, he places it in your palm before taking his place behind your chair, keeping his hands on the back of it. 

“Here, I brought this for you.” You set the bag onto the table in front of her and she seems a little taken aback. 

“Your highness, we can’t take this, you’re very kind but, it’s too much.” She pushes the bag back in your direction. 

“I insist, really.” You give her a reassuring smile as she cuts another slice of apple, handing it to the boy you assume to be her grandson. 

“I can’t just take your money…” She seems unsure still as she stares at it. 

“Yes, you can, we have too much of it anyway.” She still looks a bit hesitant so you try your best to put her at ease, it’s probably off putting, to have royalty show up at your place of business and offer you money without asking for anything in return. “Think of it as a purchase, I need a few things, this should cover everything and you can consider the rest as a tip.” This seems to convince her as she nods slowly. 

“If you insist, princess.” 

You grin at her.

“I do, insist.” You find yourself staring at the toddler, you haven’t gotten to interact with a baby since you left home, watching him makes you miss your younger siblings as you look back up at Vivian. “Would it be alright if I held him?” She lifts him up under his arms, passing him over the table to you.

“Say hello to the princess, Theodore.” She says, setting him in your lap. 

He doesn’t seem inclined to greet you but he doesn’t seem inclined to do anything other than drool, but he doesn’t protest now that you’re holding him which fills you with a sense of accomplishment as you carefully bounce him in your lap. 

“Hello, Theodore.” You whisper, leaning down a bit so you can see his face better, he has a few teeth that appear to be coming in as he chews, his wide eyes meet yours as he gives you a curious look. One of his chubby little hands grips your wrist and you can’t help but stare up at Din. The helmet is tilted down, watching you intently. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?” You continue to gently bounce your knee as Vivian hands him another apple slice before looking up at the Mandalorian. 

“Would you like to hold him?” The moment she says it you’re turning in your seat, picking up the baby and holding him towards Din who’s starting to protest but you’ve already pressed Theodore into his arms. 

“Perfect, you can hold him while I help Vivian.” You give him a smirk before turning back around in your chair, you can hear Din sigh as you look away. “What do you need me to do?” 

She shows you what goes where, you just have to follow the labels and put the correct stickers onto the matching product. It’s busy work but you really don’t mind it, you’ve spent weeks upon weeks in the castle with a few small trips out, you consider any change from your routine to be a blessing. She seems a little shocked that you would leave the castle to do this kind of thing and you once again have to reassure her a few times as you start.

“Once we finish this up can you help me find a few things?” You ask, labeling a carton of berries. 

“Of course, princess.” 

You sit for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace as a radio in the corner plays a soft tune. 

“Careful now ik’aad.” You hear Din mumbling behind you, when you turn to look at him he’s got Theodore cradled in one arm, his free hand pokes at the little one's stomach as he chubby little fingers pull on his glove. He doesn’t even seem to notice you as the little boy tugs his glove off completely, his bare hand ruffles Theodores curls. “It isn’t wise to steal from a bounty hunter.” The boy finally cracks a smile and you feel a sorrow settling in your stomach. 

That is what you want. The sense of domesticity you feel watching him hold this baby, you can physically see the paternal instinct coming off of him.

Is he thinking about his own little one? 

“Can you help me put that back on, ad?” He whispers, Theodore shoves the glove back onto Din’s hand, missing his pinky, letting out a high pitched laugh that fills the room. 

You turn back to the table, you can’t bear to watch anymore. 

Pick up a fruit. Put a sticker on it. Ignore the little giggles behind you. Repeat. 

You manage that, ignoring the question that is now demanding your attention. You keep it pushed down and locked away, until suddenly, and without warning the exact thing you’re trying to ignore is asked. 

“Do you want children someday, princess?” Vivian’s voice snaps you out of your little work routine and you realize you’re nearly done labeling everything. 

Kriff, think of an answer. Obviously she’s implying children you would have with Kodo but you know that your answer is going to be noted by the man who is standing silently behind you now. You can practically feel Din anxiously waiting for you to answer. 

Certainly it’s too soon to think about kids with Din. 

Right?

Your time with him sort of melts together, it’s only been a couple of months since you met him but it feels like so much more considering the fact that you spend every waking moment together. 

But your relationship is technically undefined. 

For Maker’s sake you haven’t even said I love you, you can’t think about kids. 

Shit, do you love him? 

You’re gonna give yourself a headache, focus on the kid thing first before you give yourself another impossible to answer question.

Kids with Din wasn’t even a possibility a week ago, but now? This is obviously more than casual, he’s made that pretty clear with his several declarations of devotion to you. You wouldn’t want to have kids here, you couldn’t have kids here. You don’t even want to think about what Kodo would do if you were pregnant after never consummating your marriage with him. 

Of course you could wait until Kodo wanted heirs.

The thought makes you cringe.

But you could wait, and take a gamble, there would be no guarantee as to who’s children you’d be carrying though. Of course you’d know once they came out either blonde little monsters or brunette with pretty little noses. 

Now you’re thinking about little ones with your eyes and messy brown curls. 

And suddenly you’re filled with fear for your hypothetical child when you think of what your husband's reaction to babies that look nothing like him would be. 

No kids. 

At least not here. Maybe in another life, on another planet, you could have your little brunette babies. And a partner who doesn’t terrify you. 

“Ma’am?” Vivian once again snaps you back to reality, how long have you been staring at the table, Din is directly behind you now, his hand hovers over your shoulder, not actually touching you. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You clear your throat when your voice cracks. Din drops his hand but not before gently brushing his fingertips against you, it’s the most comfort he can give you with someone else present. 

“I was wondering if you wanted children someday.” She says it patiently, like she knows this question has you in mental turmoil. 

Answer honestly. 

“I haven’t really thought about it. Maybe, someday, Kodo isn’t really ready for kids yet.” It’s a shitty answer, and you kind of think Din deserves a better one but it’s true. You decide you don’t want kids if you’d have to have them here. If you were somewhere else and it was just you and Din then yes, maybe you’d give it a shot, but you have a husband here, so you’d never take that risk, not if it meant risking the lives of any babies who don’t bear a resemblance to Kodo. 

She doesn’t press further and you finish labeling everything in silence, once you’re done you help her stand. Leaning in to whisper to her.

“Would it be okay if Mando watches the baby for a few minutes while you help me with something?” You need to keep him distracted while you do this. 

“I think that would be fine.” She grins, the two of you starting to leave the storage room while he grumbles something about not being a babysitter as he follows, Theodore still held in the crook of one of his arms. 

Exactly as you’d hoped Theodore seems to get distracted by something, driving Mando to fall behind as you walk arm in arm with Vivian through the aisles. 

“I’m trying to make a dessert I got in the markets.” You keep your voice low and hushed. “It was sort of like a snack cake, I’m pretty sure it was vanilla and maybe cinnamon? I have a cookbook at home but I didn’t have time to grab it this morning.” She nods as you speak.

“I think I know what you’re looking for.” She points you towards a few different things, mostly essentials that you know you won’t have access to, it’s rather simple, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla extract, and a few other things. Eventually Din catches up but Theodore appears to have found a burst of energy and keeps him busy once he sets him down and ends up chasing him through the aisles. Once you have everything she helps you check out, putting everything into cloth bags as you exchange pleasantries with Theodore’s mother, until Din walks over holding the little boy with purple stained lips in one arm and his other hand holds a carton of blueberries. 

“He got into these.” Stoic and professional as ever in public, he hands the giggling boy to his mother before setting the carton into your bags, placing a handful of credits onto the counter for them before gathering your things in his arms. Vivian tries to hand him his money back but he’s already out the door. You give her an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, he’s not much of a talker, I had a wonderful time today, thank you for keeping me company.” You take her hand in yours, the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles at you.

“You’re welcome anytime, princess. We were honored to host a member of the royal family.” You give her hand a reassuring squeeze before giving Theodore a wave. 

“Good bye, Theo, I’ll visit soon.” He gives you a hesitant wave as you exit the shop, joining Din out on the sidewalk. 

“Did you get everything you needed?” He’s dropped that stern tone of voice.

His Mando voice. He’s Din again. 

“Yes, I think I’m good, I’ll need you to put all of that in your cabin.” You gesture towards the bags as you start walking. 

“Excuse me?” He easily matches your stride.

“I just want to try something. Can you just do this one thing for me without asking any questions?” You turn to stare at him and he doesn’t speak for a few moments but he nods. “Thank you.” 

★

When you arrive back at the castle it’s just after noon, you promise to stay in your chambers until Din returns after taking the groceries to his cabin.

If everything goes according to plan you’ll go to the library for a few hours until dinner time, you’ll get through dinner as quickly as possible. And once that’s taken care of, Din will sneak you out to the cabin for a few hours.

You’ve got several hours before you’ll need to do any of that though. And currently your mind is wandering a bit. You’ve had a mentally exhausting morning and there’s one specific thing you’re sure would help you relax. You want to not think about the many questions that are currently plaguing your mind. So you think of a less exhausting question.

Is he still going to be weird about having sex? 

Is he going to need you to really want it everytime?  

You always want it. If he’d give it to you all the time you’d never leave your room. If you ask him when he returns would he lock the door and take you right here in the middle of the day? 

It’s not like you haven’t had sex in the middle of the day. 

That gives you an idea. 

If this works you won’t have to beg him, you’ll just get him worked up until he takes it. And you know exactly what to do to get him to take it. It worked previously to get him all bothered so why not try again. 

When he returns you’ve got one of the books you bought yesterday under your arm and you give him an innocent smile.

“Library?”

He has one of the books he picked for himself in his hand. 

“Library.”

You try not to seem too eager as you walk rather quickly there. As always it’s eerily empty and you rush over to your nook. Leaving him plenty of space to sit next to you, which he does. You set your book in your lap so he can get a good look at it. 

Bound in Beskar. 

You stifle a laugh as you stare at the cover art of a woman in a loose fitting dress pressed against the chest of a Mandalorian. This Mandalorian’s armor is a mix of colors, the helmet reminds you of Din’s but the rest of the armor is a chestnut brown except for one of the pauldrons which is half blue and half tan.

“You can’t be serious.” He turns to stare at you and you grin. 

“What? It looks like a good book.” You feign innocence, opening up the book, delighted to find it’s as kitschy as you had hoped it would be. A story about a Mandalorian blacksmith and a woman in town who becomes employed by him. You ignore him completely, hoping he’ll take the bait but he just opens his own reading, so you rest your head on his pauldron and read. 

At the very least you’ll get to enjoy the book. 

Which you do for the better part of an hour. You’re so engrossed by the campy romance you don’t even notice when Din stops turning pages in his own book, sitting completely still next to you. 

Until you flip to a page where the blacksmith bends the protagonist over the anvil, he finally shifts a little in his seat, clearing his throat yet when he speaks his voice is husky and dangerous. 

“You really want to do this?” 

Yes. Probably more than anything. 

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“For someone who claims that I’m constantly plotting to get the upper hand on them you do a lot of scheming.” His hand is on your waist. 

You don’t have a response. Just a big stupid grin on your face. 

“You’re terrible. How many hours a day do you spend masterminding different ways to lure me into bed?” He squeezes your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoff, although he may have a point. 

“I’m starting to think that you take me for a common whore.” His voice keeps getting softer and softer, you instinctively lean closer to him. 

“You’re distracting me from my book.” You whisper back to him.

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” That’s the last thing he says before standing up and you’re about to apologize for taking it too far when he kneels on the floor in front of you.

There’s a solid moment of silence before he speaks again. 

“If it’s so important, then keep reading.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. 

You stare at the pages. trying to ignore the way he plays with the hem of your skirt.

Focus on the book. 

The Mandalorian in the book doesn’t have a name, coincidentally he goes by Mando. You couldn’t be happier about it. 

“Such a pretty dress.” He murmurs. You don’t dare stop reading to respond to him. Focusing on the smut in front of you, it doesn’t seem practical to chain someone to an anvil the way it’s done in the story. 

You’re trying to logistically imagine how one would weld another person's cuffs to an anvil without hurting them in the process when you freeze, hearing a hiss of air. 

“Keep your eyes on the pages.” You don’t dare move. Watching in your peripherals as he lifts the helmet off. 

In broad daylight. 

Where anyone could walk in. 

You focus on the words, you aren’t comprehending them in the slightest but you do everything in your power to make sure you see nothing. 

You decide to just close your eyes, it isn’t worth the risk. 

His hands push your skirt up to your waist, exposing your bottom half to him, his hand pushes your thighs apart and he hums softly in approval, admiring the marks he left there the previous night. 

“Now, I want you to be good and read your book for me, sarad, okay?” His hands guide the book up in front of you and you slowly open your eyes, he’s got you holding it close enough to your face that you can’t see him. 

He doesn’t wait for a response, he just hooks a finger around your panties, tugging them down quickly, removing them completely. You’re holding your breath in anticipation, waiting for the mouth that never comes. 

“Tell me about the book.” You feel him rest his head on your thigh.

“What?” He can’t be serious.

“The book you so badly wanted to read, tell me about it.”

He’s staring at your pussy and he wants to do this. Fine, if it gets you what you want, you have such little dignity left regarding your relationship with him at this point, why not? 

“The Mandalorian in it is a blacksmith, they call him an armorer…” You start hesitantly but once you get halfway through the first sentence he drags his tongue between your folds, drawing a sharp gasp from you, the moment you stop, he stops. 

He’s mean. 

You like that he’s mean. 

“He makes armor for all the other Mandalorians.” 

One hand pushes your thigh up a little more while the other spreads you open. 

“And the woman needed a job so she-” 

Without warning his lips wrap around your clit, you know better than to stop talking. 

“S-she takes a job in his shop, and then, kriff, she knocks something over-” 

He’s in no rush. He briefly sucks directly on your clit before moving down a bit, plunging his tongue into your weeping cunt. 

“Fuck, Din.” And just like that he’s pulled back. You almost throw the book in frustration but you can’t even do that because you might see something. “Come on…” You whine softly.

“Already with the complaining?” You hear him tsk quietly, his hand squeezing the meat of your thigh. “I’ve barely started.” 

“You’re being an ass.” You grumble.

“And you need to be taught a lesson.” His hand lifts briefly before slapping your thigh, the loud smack is a stark juxtaposition to the silence of the shelves. 

“What lesson?” 

His hand reaches up over your book pointing at the pages. 

“That if you want something, you need to ask for it. Now, tell me about your book.” 

The nerve of him, to tell you that you have to really want it and then days later tell you that all you had to do was ask. You’d tell him off right now, maybe even return the slap if you weren’t so turned on right now. 

You sigh.

“She knocks something over in his workshop.” 

He picks up right where he left off, his tongue pushes inside of you and you swallow your moan as his free hand starts to work your clit. 

“It’s nothing important, it's just like a- ah, a hammer or, or something.” 

He’s drawing slow circles onto that bundle of nerves, you’re embarrassed to say that he’s rapidly working you towards an orgasm already. Who gave him the right to know just how to push your buttons.

“And he gets mad, he b-bends her over his knee-” 

He switches, dragging his tongue upwards to your clit while plunging a gloved finger into your cunt. 

“D-dank farrik- and he spanks her, for- fuck- for dropping the, the thing.” 

He hums against you, the vibration has your thighs squeezing around his head, he doesn’t seem to mind, the hand that isn’t currently trying to fit a second finger into you throws one of your legs over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around it to keep you in place. 

“And, and, and- the next day she knocks something over ag- Din!” 

He pulls his fingers out completely before shoving them back into you. You don’t bother looking at the pages anymore, you let your head fall back, leaning against the glass of the window behind you.

“She knocks another one of his- his tools over to get him t-to spank her again. Shit, m-my eyes are closed.” You toss the book to the side, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your fingers tangle themselves in his hair. “He bends her over the anv- Maker, the anvil, and I don’t know what happens next, I haven’t gotten that far, d-don’t stop, please.” 

Thank the gods he doesn’t stop, he seems to be too content with his efforts to stop now. But just to make sure he doesn’t you keep rambling.

“M’sorry, for not telling you what I- what I wanted.” You’re mostly gasps at this point as you tug at his curls, trying to pull him closer while he methodically pushes his fingers in and out of you. And Maker that tongue.

It’s a good thing he has the creed because if he didn’t you’d spend all day on his tongue. 

He’s eagerly lapping at your clit, tracing different shapes against you, the constant stimulation has your back arching, your admission of guilt has him working faster than ever. 

“Next time… I’ll ask, p-promise.” You groan, fuck, you’ll ask right now, it’s basically a habit at this point. “Can I cum? Please, Din, can I?” 

He doesn’t pull off, too focused on what he’s doing but he mumbles something against you that sounds like yes so you chase that high. 

It doesn’t take long and you’re seeing stars, one of your hands detaches from his hair to cover your mouth as his name forces its way out of your throat. You’re vaguely aware of his tongue licking up your remaining wetness before pulling off of you, your eyes are still closed but his hand leaves your thigh and comes up to cover them. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His lips crash against yours as you taste yourself on him.

There’s those words again. You’re about to ask him what they mean but he starts kissing down your face, moving from your lips to your chin to your jaw. Finally settling at your throat.

“Don’t go to dinner.” He’s whispering against the skin of your neck.

He could convince you to do just about anything right now. 

“Okay.” You whisper back, he doesn’t respond, did he hear you? You nod instead which seems to register with him.

“Tell him you don’t feel well.” He places a soft kiss on the column of your throat. 

“I will.” 

★

And that’s exactly what you do.

Once you’ve caught your breath you return to your chambers, summoning Leo and tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather, and won’t be attending dinner with Kodo tonight. He protests a bit until finally you mention having lady troubles and his face gets an even darker shade of orange before he scurries off. 

And then you say goodbye to Din. With a whispered promise to see him soon. 

A part of you thinks someones going to come fetch you, and force you down to dinner but no one ever does. You told Din to wait two hours just in case but the first hour passes and nothing happens so you rush to the closet to change. It’ll be considerably easier to sneak you in and out if you aren’t in a shimmering gown. You manage to get out of the dress after a few minutes of struggling.

You find the pants you set aside. Happily tugging on a pair of gray trousers and a white cotton tunic. 

You’ve still got at least half an hour before he’ll be back so you search for the cookbook of desserts, it only takes a few minutes for you to find the snack cakes that he likes, folding the corner of the page you set it aside.

Next order of business.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”

Find out what that means. 

You go to the pile of books, looking for the translation book you bought but you can’t find it. You double check every title but it’s gone.

The bastard must have taken it. 

“Son of a-” You start to grumble to yourself but the door swings open, and there he is. “You’re early, and you’re a thief.” You march over to the bed, grabbing the cookbook as he holds the door open for you.

“I missed you.” He murmurs. “And I have no idea what you mean.” 

He missed you.

Maybe you can forgive him for taking your book. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” 

You move quickly, he checks around corners before hurrying you forward in silence throughout the dark halls of the castle. You exhale loudly once you make it outside through the exit you use to get to the gardens. He holds a hand out to you but you hesitate to take it.

“What if someone sees from a window?” 

“It’s dark, they won’t be able to tell it’s us, it could be anyone.” It doesn’t reassure you completely but you take his hand nonetheless, walking through the darkness you quickly realize he’s right, you can’t see your feet in front of you as you stumble onward and you’re suddenly glad to have him guiding you. Walking in silence for a few minutes.

“So what’s this surprise you’ve got planned?” He gently squeezes your hand as you feel the terrain below your feet change, indicating you’re off of the lawn and onto the trail in the woods. 

“Promise not to laugh?”

It’s starting to remind you of the birthday you surprised him with and you’re feeling more and more stupid the closer you get to the cabin. 

“You know I can’t promise that.” He lets your arms gently swing back and forth.

“Then I’m not telling you.”

“Fine. I promise not to laugh.” He chuckles as he says it and you hope he sees your scowl in the darkness. 

“I was gonna bake something for you. Just so we could, I don’t know it’s dumb, but we can try and feel like a normal couple for a few hours.” You say it as quickly as possible, to just get it out of the way.

His arm stops swinging, he’s pulling you along now and you feel dread washing over you from his lack of a response. 

“Or we can do literally anything else, it doesn’t really matter to me…” You add quickly. You’re about to keep on rambling just to fill the silence but he scoops you up into his arms, you hear the sound of his boots stepping into water and it’s only a few more seconds before you hear the creak of the door followed by wood floors beneath your feet. He flips the switch that turns the lamps around his home on.

“I would love it if you baked something.” He finally says. He almost sounds choked up but you aren’t sure, and decide not to press as he sits at the table, removing his boots, setting them by the door to dry, you head towards the kitchenette, getting the things you purchased out of the cupboards and out on the counter. Opening the book as you read the recipe, hearing the clunk of his armor being removed behind you. 

You don’t have a lot of kitchen experience but it seems easy enough. Once you start mixing things in a large bowl you find he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. 

“Do you need help?” He sounds at peace. 

You want him to sound like this all the time.

“No, this is your surprise, go sit down.” You turn your head to smile at him, he’s down to just his flight suit and helmet as he retreats to the kitchen table.

When you check the ingredient list again you turn to check on him, he doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, like he doesn’t know how to relax. 

You ask yourself a question you’ve wondered before. 

Who takes care of him?

All he does is take care of you, who’s taking care of him?

Has anyone taken care of him? Ever? 

You need to get him to relax, even just a little. So you start with a joke.

“You’re still mean during sex.” You crack an egg as you say it and you thankfully get a chuckle from him.

“And you still like it.”

“Clearly I’m not the only one who likes it.” You turn to face him, bowl in one arm, wooden spoon in the other as you mix. “You’re lucky I’m so good at doing what you like, what would you do without me?” You grin at him before turning back around, grabbing the cupcake tin you found, it isn’t the exact shape you neeed but it’s the closest thing he has. 

“Really? I didn’t realize it required a lot of skill to sit still and take it.” He taunts, you resist turning around and throwing something at him. 

“It’s harder than what you do. Believe it or not it isn’t easy to try and maintain your dignity in those situations.” You begin pouring the batter into the tin. 

“It isn’t exactly easy to convince you to lose your dignity, princess.” 

Maybe you can get him to relax in a different way. 

Afterall, he did say all you had to do was ask. 

“If only there was a way to find out which way is harder.” You turn the dial on the oven before sliding the pan in, it’s tiny, only just big enough to hold the one pan. “We’ve got about an hour.” You slowly make your way around the room, clicking the lamps off.

He stands up from his chair, visor trained on you.

“I’m asking for sex, if that wasn’t clear.” You say with a condescending tone as you sit on the bed. 

There’s no hesitation in his strides as he slots himself between your legs. He pushes his knee up between your thighs as he starts laying you back against his mattress. You sit up on your elbows.

“Sit with your back against the headboard.” You say it as sternly as you can manage and it stops him dead in his tracks making you grin. “I thought we wanted to find out which way was harder?” You say a bit quieter, he seems to be considering it for a moment before he nods, getting off of you and sitting as you told him to, legs out in front of him, his erection already visibly straining against the flight suit. 

You should probably figure out what you’re gonna do now. 

You were all talk up until this point. A part of you thought he’d just do what he normally does and just take what he wanted, now here you are and you’re the one who is expected to take. 

What does he normally do? 

He would get on top, in a position above you.

So that’s just what you do, straddling his waist as you sit down on his thighs. It’s actually a bit strange to have him not telling you what to do. 

That’s what you should do next. Tell him what to do. 

He usually gets you to tell him something, or admit something, or he’s just trying to prove a point. Like he wants you to be as flustered as possible.

And he doesn’t shut up unless he’s using his mouth for something else. 

Your hands drag down the fabric on his chest, stopping at his stomach before going back up to his shoulders. 

What could you get him to say that would get him fired up the way he likes to do to you? 

“What does ni kar'tayl gar darasuum mean?” Your hands rest on his shoulders as you say it and he laughs. 

“It’s nothing, just something you say to someone you care about.” He’s still laughing a bit as he says it.

“That isn’t an answer, I want to know what it means.” You let your hands unzip the crotch of his flight suit, his cock slaps against his stomach once you do, you hear him sharply inhale through his teeth.

“I don’t know what it means.” He mutters as you lean back a bit to get your own pants off, tossing them to the floor along with your panties. 

The cabin smells like vanilla. 

“I think you do.” You position yourself back in his lap, hovering above him on your knees as you bring your hand between your thighs, placing your other hand on his shoulder to balance yourself as you slide two fingers into yourself with a groan, your head falling forward against his helmet, his hands find your waist but you remove your fingers.

“No touching Din, not until I say so.”

“You know I’m stronger than you, right?” He drops his hands nonetheless. 

“Shut it.” You pick up where you left off with your fingers, scissoring them, stretching yourself a bit for him. “What does mesh’la mean?” You lean forward a bit more, spitting on his length as you remove your fingers once more, using your combined wetness and spit as a lubricant as you begin to slowly stroke him, his head leaning back ever so slightly.

“It means beautiful.” He sounds strained, it makes you smile as you continue your leisurely pace. 

“Okay. You can touch me now.” His hands fly back to your waist, his grip is tighter this time. “What about cyare?” You soften your voice, picking up speed a tiny bit so he knows that if he tells you he’ll get more. 

“B-beloved.” He stammers a bit and your face is getting hot. He was right, it is harder to do this, or maybe you just don’t have the patience for it because you know you should probably tease him for a lot longer but you don’t want to wait, moving yourself forwards to line him up at your entrance. Staring into the helmet as you grip him at the base of his cock.

“What about ni kar'tayl gar darasuum?” He begins a breathless chuckle but it’s cut short as you sink yourself down onto him halfway. You stare at him, waiting for an answer, when you never get one you take your time easing yourself the rest of the way onto him. He stays mostly quiet, aside from the occasional grunt or gasp but his grip on your waist is definitely going to leave bruises. “Cyar’ika? What does that mean?” 

“Darling.” With that answer you put your hands back on his shoulders, moving yourself up and down on him at your own pace, savoring the feeling of how he splits you open, due to your own impatience there’s a bit of a sting from the stretch but you wouldn’t change a thing. 

You maintain what you think is eye contact as you ride him, the only sounds now in the cabin are the sounds of your flesh slapping together and your collective gasps. 

“I’ll stop reading those books in front of you if you tell me.” 

He laughs again.

“I don’t mind the books.” 

You pick up the pace, lifting yourself almost completely off of him before slamming yourself back down on his length. His groan is downright pornagraphic. 

“Do you have a weird fetish? I’ll let you act out a weird fetish with me if you tell me.” That gets another breathless laugh.

“I don’t have a weird fetish.”

“I’ll buy something lacy and green and wear it for you again.” You need to convince him and soon because your thighs burn and you aren’t sure how much longer you’re gonna last, he rests his helmet on your shoulder.

“You’re gonna do that anyway.” You hate that he’s right. 

You’ve only got one other thing you can think of to offer, and honestly you just hope he doesn’t think you’re being ridiculous.

“If you tell me I’ll get a pill.” You blurt out. “I’ll get a pill and you can cum inside me.” His grip on your waist tightens the moment you say it and much to your surprise, you finish, in a blinding hot flash you feel your stomach tighten, and before you know it’s happening he’s hastily lifting you off of him, a strangled moan comes from the modulator as you watch him paint the inside of your thighs with his seed. 

There’s a beat of silence, you both breathlessly stare at each other in surprise until he starts to laugh and quickly you are too. He pulls you to him so you sit against the headboard as well. 

“So you liked one of my offers?” 

“I might have been interested in one of them” He chuckles in response as you rest your head against his arm. 

You’re turning towards him to give him a smile but it seems he has other plans.

He doesn’t give you a warning when he does it and you don’t hear the hiss of air, when you turn you see his plush bottom lip, chin, and patches of facial hair before shutting your eyes tight. 

Kriff.

You aren’t sure what to say, you're feeling a little shell-shocked as he leans forward, giving you a chaste kiss before situating his helmet once more, you don’t open your eyes until you hear it lock back into place. He says something so quietly you can’t quite make it out. 

“What did you say?” You whisper back, still trying to get over the shock of seeing a fraction of his face while simultaneously trying to remember every detail. 

“It means I love you.” 

Your eyes go wide and you stare at him in silence for so long that you have to make another batch of cakes.

The ones in the oven are burned when you finally go to check on them. 

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[marvel-ous-m]

Eddie Munson’s Guide for How to Adopt a Jock in Four Easy Steps (5/5)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

AO3 Link

A.N.: I’m actually kind of emotional posting this! It’s the first multi-chapter fic I’ve uploaded for ST and y’all have been so lovely this week. I hope you enjoy this 2,776 word ending (damn) to this fic that I’ve SO enjoyed writing and sharing. 

I want to give a very special shoutout to my best friend @lamoabss for being my beta for this chapter and also just being an all-around wonderful person. Please give them a follow, they’re so insanely talented and we’re planning to do some collabs over the summer! 

Okay, onto the last chapter!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first part of Step Three is easy enough- with all of Hellfire onboard, Eddie just needs to figure out the basics of Steve Harrington: likes, dislikes, allergies, school schedule, etc. All the things that high school students share with each other in the cafeteria over lunch or between class periods. So, Eddie makes like glue and sticks to Steve’s side. For the classes they share, Eddie moves to sit in the desk next to Steve- which is, sadly, pretty easy- no one is keen to sit next to the fallen king, probably out of some dumbass fear that they would catch whatever social pariah-ness that Steve had suddenly taken on. They trade notes during the classes that Steve zones out during- which, Eddie makes a mental note, are English and Math. (The other class they share together is Chemistry, and Steve can barely take his focus from whatever their science teacher is talking about to say ‘hi’ to Eddie when he comes into class five minutes late, which he does on a fairly regular basis. Eddie also files that information away for later). 

By some unexplainable miracle, for the classes that Eddie doesn’t share with Steve, some member of Hellfire can fill in that space. Jeff takes Spanish 2 with Steve, Gareth has woodshop, and Grant has art and P.E.. Eddie employs them to run reconnaissance as they work together to make sure that Steve never has to sit alone in a class, and they begin to compile information through their various efforts. 

Steve can draw pretty well, but he only uses pens to sketch. He loves art class and sits at the front to see the board better, so he probably needs glasses. He talked to the P.E. teacher last week and now all he does during class is sit in her office and file papers, I think she’s making him sit out for a few weeks because she thinks he has a concussion. Based on his behavior, he probably does. -Grant.

Steve hates woodshop. He sits in the back of the class and doesn’t pay attention, and if the professor catches him and makes him actually do work, he gets this look in his eye and panics a little. He does this thing with his right hand where he clenches it a couple times until he can breathe better. He won’t go near a hammer. I don’t really understand it. -Gareth. 

Steve sucks at Spanish. He said something to me the other day about the letters not making sense. With the way he squints at his paper and the way he writes… I’m going out on a limb here, but he might be dyslexic? -Jeff. 

Steve doesn’t pay attention in Math but he has an A, so he’s actually freakishly good with numbers. He doesn’t pay attention in English for the opposite reason, I think Jeff’s onto something. He loves Chemistry but he doesn’t have the best grade in that class. I think he pays attention because he wants to do a better job. He’s well rested on Monday and Friday morning, but Tuesday, Wednesday, and especially Thursday he looks like he’s about to fall over all day. I catch him nodding off in Math those days, and, maybe coincidentally, his shoes are really muddy on the mornings when he comes in tired. -Eddie. 

With the new information, the boys get to work. Gareth makes himself Steve’s woodshop partner, doing the majority of the building and letting Steve relax for the most part, having him only do whatever wood staining that needs to be done. Grant shares some of his sketches with Steve in class to try and make him more confident about his art skills, which works surprisingly well. Grant also brings up his dyscalculia seamlessly over lunch one day and answers whatever questions Steve has. Jeff gives Steve his Spanish notes and asks to study together on Thursday nights. Steve turns him down- apparently Thursday nights he actually babysits Dustin so that Dustin’s mom, Claudia, can go to a Bingo thing with her friends, but Steve offers up Fridays after class in the library, which becomes a new tradition for them. 

Eddie can’t offer much in the way of English notes (why read Shakespeare when there are hundreds of Sci-Fi and Fantasy books out in the world?) but he does make time to talk with Steve about English during lunch on Tuesdays. They go to the library instead of sitting in the cafeteria with the rest of Hellfire, and they work their way through whatever assigned reading their teacher gives them. Steve’s pretty tired, but not as tired as he is on Wednesdays or Thursdays, so it works, and they both find themselves actually understanding the subject matter for once. As for math- well, Eddie has Steve answer whatever questions he has rather than the other way around, but that seems to help Steve’s confidence about his math skills- which really are quite impressive. Eddie also finds himself as Steve’s lab partner for every Chem project. It’s a little bit chaotic- turns out that Steve understands Chemistry to a certain extent, but prefers to mess around more than actually learn something- which, yeah, dangerous, but also fun… very fun. (Eddie especially likes to play with the Bunsen burner- call him a pyromaniac- but his antics always pull a laugh from Steve, a bright sound that makes Eddie’s heart sing, so he keeps at it despite many, many reprimands from their Chem teacher). 

The winter months turn to Spring, and Steve begins to bloom at the same pace as the flowers and trees around town. He contributes to conversations at lunch, plans to hang out with the guys when he has spare time, attends their band practices and cheers them on- hell, by March he even agrees to play a character in Eddie’s newest campaign. Eddie makes him a Paladin, which he claims fits Steve the best out of everything he could think of. Steve loves the character and picks up on what it’s like to actually play the game rather than strategize pretty quickly- unsurprisingly, Steve loves it. 

The Hellfire boys seem to take Steve’s blooming personality in stride- Jeff goes over to Steve’s to bake chocolate chip cookies one-on-one, which they bring to the next campaign. He and Grant bond over art, swapping sketches and gifting each other art supplies. Every time Steve receives something, his eyes get this look- and every time that Eddie witnesses it, he’s reminded of why they brought Steve into their small-but-mighty crew, and is extremely grateful that Steve is acclimating so well. Steve and Gareth are fast friends, which takes all of them by surprise. Apparently, Steve gave Gareth some hairstyling tips, and that was that. 

Steve’s personality isn’t the only thing that’s changing come Spring. Eddie finds himself staring at Steve’s mouth much more frequently. In fact, he can count a number of times where he could swear that Steve was doing the same to him. They laugh at each other's jokes more frequently, share stolen moments by Steve’s locker in between classes where they speak in hushed voices about whatever comes to mind. It’s… nothing that Eddie’s ever experienced before. At the same time, Eddie can’t imagine life without these moments with Steve, and while Jeff’s cautionary words are still at the forefront of his mind, he can feel himself falling harder, and it’s slowly reaching a worrisome point-of-no-return.

Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, it’s June. Steve passes all of his classes with the help of Hellfire, Eddie fails English and P.E. again (which he unfortunately expected- another year in this hell doesn’t sound all that appealing, but he figures that he can at least hang out with the guys for another year, and with Jeff in Senior English maybe he’ll actually pass). The four of them attend Steve’s graduation, where they meet some of the middle schoolers that Steve had spoken so highly about over the last few months. They all sit together and cheer as loud as they can when Steve walks across the stage and gets his diploma, even earning a few hushed whispers from surrounding parents to sit down and be quiet. Steve’s parents were nowhere to be found, but when everyone caught up with Steve after the ceremony to congratulate him, it was clear that he didn’t mind- in that moment, he had everyone that he cared about surrounding him. 

Hellfire presented Steve with a club T-Shirt as a graduation gift, which he took with a wide smile on his face and that same look in his eye. Eddie took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back- Step Three: Get Steve Fully Integrated Into Hellfire, complete. (Yeah, he fell harder for Steve, but he kept that to himself and got Steve through the rest of the school year while also giving him a new group of friends- and, theoretically, Steve was none the wiser about Eddie’s feelings. All in all- not bad, Munson. Not bad.)  

The kids had to leave pretty quickly after congratulating Steve- something about getting Dustin packed for summer camp and Claudia having been the one to drive all of them to graduation- but not without Dustin and his friends making Eddie promise to let them into Hellfire when September came around, while simultaneously gawking about him letting someone like Steve into the group. (Their bright personalities and excitement about Hellfire helped Eddie feel a bit more optimistic about the year ahead- who knew, maybe ‘86 would be his year).

Once the crowd dispersed, the rest of the boys of Hellfire also going their separate ways to get a start on summer plans, Eddie invited Steve over to the trailer to share a joint and spend the night. Wayne was pulling a 24 hour shift, and Eddie figured Steve needed an opportunity to let loose before starting work at the new ice cream shop, a job Steve was dreading. (Although, Eddie was secretly pretty excited about Steve’s new job, given the embarrassing uniform that Steve had described). 

Steve took Eddie up on his offer, which is how they ended up splayed next to each other on Eddie’s bed, legs tangled together and giggling through the soft haze that came with working through some of Eddie’s stash. One thing led to another, and, at Steve’s quiet, embarrassed request, they tried out ‘shotgunning’, which turned into a very heated makeout session. 

The development was entirely unexpected, but, as was later revealed during a conversation at sunrise, mutually very welcomed. So maybe Step Three wasn’t entirely completed in accordance with Jeff’s warning, but whatever. This was good- actually, scratch that, this was perfect. Best-of-all-possible-scenarios, win-win situation. They started dating- keeping it secret, only sharing it with the other members of Hellfire, and then only because Jeff clocked it within three minutes of one of their summer D&D sessions starting. They were all very supportive (save for a warning glare from Jeff that Eddie was on the receiving end of), and for about a month, Steve was the happiest that Eddie had ever seen. And yeah, Eddie was the happiest he’d been in a long time, too. Sue him, Steve was a great boyfriend- and was fucking perfect in the bedroom. (12/10 stars, give the man an award, kinda perfect. And that sailor suit? Goddamn…)  Eddie didn’t know how he got so lucky, but he was going to do everything in his power to keep this gift from the universe in prime condition. 

June turned to July, and Eddie’s understanding of the world as he knew it completely changed come Independence Day. Eddie was woken up by a phone call in the middle of the night from Steve, who, sounding beyond exhausted, asked for a ride home for him and his coworker Robin. Eddie arrived at the scene and was shocked by the sheer magnitude of what he had unknowingly stumbled upon. There were at least five times as many emergency response vehicles than Hawkins had, the newly-constructed mall was actively burning to the ground, there was a huge crowd outside a long yellow barrier of police tape, and a few faces Eddie recognized beyond the police tape: specifically Steve’s middle schoolers, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, and-

There was Steve, holding a blanket around his shoulders, sitting in the back of an ambulance next to his coworker Robin, who Eddie knew from theater, band, and the handful of times he came in to visit Steve at work. Eddie ducked under the police tape without much fanfare and made his way over to the ambulance, pulling Steve into a hug the second he was within arms length. 

They left pretty soon after that, Steve quietly explaining that he had told Robin about their relationship after vomiting their brains out in the movie theater bathroom. Which- Eddie wasn’t really sure how to unpack all of that, but that wasn’t exactly important at the moment. He drove Steve and Robin to Steve’s house, and, at their request, Eddie laid in Steve’s parent’s California King bed with the two of them. After a few hours of all of them trying to sleep but coming up unsuccessful, Steve finally started speaking. Once he started, he couldn’t stop, and an explanation of the hidden dark side of Hawkins came spewing out.

It was dawn by the time Steve finished recounting everything, and Eddie believed him without question. He trusts Steve intrinsically, he knows Steve would never lie about something like this- something so life-altering and burdensome. Besides, Steve’s story matched events that Eddie could place: Will going ‘missing’, followed by Barbara Holland, then Will magically re-appearing around the same time that Steve had his falling out with Hagan and came back to school with a beat-up face from Jonathan Byers. Steve walking the tracks with Dustin as he’d explained all those months ago in November took on a new meaning- they were searching for a monster from an alternate dimension that Dustin had accidentally let loose. The clenching motion Steve made and his aversion to woodshop suddenly made sense, too. In the middle of recounting the events of early November 1984, Steve left his parents room and returned with a wooden bat filled with nails that fit perfectly in Steve’s hand- he explained with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks that it kept him grounded, that he couldn’t sleep without it- that sometimes, when he was anxious, he felt himself reaching for the thing- but if he was relaxed, the idea of holding something even vaguely similar made him sick to his stomach. 

Steve then moved on to describe the sleepless nights, how he made himself patrol Hawkins from sundown to sunup on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday nights, often trudging through the forest with his bat, ready to kill the next ‘big bad’ that came from the dimension existing under their feet. 

Robin contributed what she could when Steve reached the events at Starcourt. After hours of talking in hushed whispers under the covers of Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s bed, the three of them passed out, too exhausted to keep their eyes open. 

The next few weeks were hard, but the three of them got through the nightmares together. Before Eddie knew it, the school year was starting, Robin and Steve were inseparable, working together at Family Video (because the two could barely spend a minute apart), and July 4th, 1985 felt like a distant thing. 

As the months passed, Eddie and Steve’s relationship only became stronger, and in March of 1986, when Eddie watches Chrissy Cunningham be killed by seemingly supernatural forces, he knows who to call. 

With a proactive start on things, they kill Vecna on the first try. No one dies- really, the worst that happens is a couple of scratches here and there. They live. 

They love. 

One day far in the future, as Eddie watches his husband play with their daughter, he thinks back to that November day in 1984, and sends a quiet thank you to his younger self. That Eddie in the library may have had no idea the long-lasting effects that his plan would’ve had on his life, but Eddie couldn’t be more thankful. Steve was nothing like the ‘lost sheep’ Eddie had initially assessed him to be- he had grown so much, found himself, accepted himself. He was Steve. Eddie’s Steve. He was his own, beautiful, intelligent, kind, sometimes-awkward (yet adorably so), person. 

Secret, Unplanned Step Four: Make Steve Harrington Fall in Love with Me (While I Fall Irresistibly in Love With Him), complete.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:  @ellietheasexylibrarian @cuips-not-cute @melodymeddler @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @singmeyoursimpsong @patchworkgargoyle @spectrum-spectre @devondespresso @thesuninyaface @obsessivlyme @angeldreamsoffanfic @carlyv @nburkhardt @inspirationorinsanity @rebelspykatie @my2amgaythoughts @lavenderagenda @just-a-tiny-void @mamafaithful @breadboi66 @beholdingloser @randomfandomcontent @oftirnanog @yellowdevilkitten @steves-strapcollection @keep-er-steddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bisexualdisastersworld @jinxjinn @copingmechanizm @blackpanzy @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @evix-syne666 @crisisinverted17 @satan-is-obsessed @shrimply-a-menace @anaibis @trashcanniballecter   @thoughtfulbreadpolice @awholedamnmesstbh @chaoticvictorianspirit @jcmadgirl @satan-is-obsessed @tommyvelvet @sleepdeprivedflower @fruitmix @carvingsnowdogs @annabanannabeth @rhyswritesreadsandcries @a-little-unsteddie @goodolefashionedloverboi @escapingthereality @aellafreya @lololol-1234 

[see-the-fandom-imagines]

What’s in it for me?

Chapter 8

Chapter 1     Masterlist

Pairing: Kyouya Ootori x Reader Author: see-the-fandom-imagines   Warnings: Kyouya in a bad mood, other than that mostly cute fluff, filler Author’s Note: I hope you will like it! One tiny question: I have been thinking about uploading this same fic with a few changes that would be required, but using male pronouns. I feel like our male readers get too little attention every once in a while, so let me know in case anyone would actually be interested in reading this with male pronouns! Tag List: @radical-bunny, @redsakura101​, @ellouisa17​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46325452/chapters/116633701

The next morning you awoke early. You needed a moment to realise where you were, but Haruhi’s steady breathing soon reminded you of everything that happened the day before. You groaned and stretched, before carefully sitting up. Bright sun light shone through the curtains, so you decided you might as well should get up and make some breakfast. You owed everyone as much for scaring them like you did. Quietly you walked into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror you noticed that your eyes were still a little puffy from crying, but that was nothing that a little cold water couldn’t save. You brushed your teeth and quickly washed your face, before slipping into your everyday clothes and sneaking downstairs. No one was there yet, and you enjoyed the short moment of calmness, a rare occasion when being anywhere with the host club. You had to admit you probably were relaxed for the first time in weeks, although you knew you also had to thank the six boys for that who were still sleeping upstairs. Silently you checked the fridge and the pantry for food and you actually found almost all of the basics – eggs, rice, flour, sugar … You could work with that. You had just finished heating the pan, when you heard steps coming down the stairs into the kitchen. You turned around to see who it was, after you had poured the first load of dough into the pan. “Mori-Senpai”, you greeted. “Good morning!” You smiled at him and he smiled back. “Good morning.” He stepped closer to see what you were doing. “I am making breakfast, I thought it was the least thing I could do after … after yesterday.” You carefully flipped the pancake, before turning towards him, as you noticed something. “I never really thanked you properly, but… well, thank you. Really.” You looked him in the eyes. “For saving my life. And everything in general, too.” You bowed down as deeply as you could without falling to your knees. He was quiet for a while, but then you felt the weight of his hand on your head as he ruffled your hair. Surprised you looked up into his smiling face. You knew this was his way of saying that it was alright. You smiled up at him. “If you want to you can sit down, I’ll bring the breakfast out in a bit.” “Let me help you.” “But…”, you started but he shook his head. “Please.” You chuckled and gave in. If he said he wanted to help, that’s what he wanted to do. You always enjoyed Mori’s simplicity in this regard. “Alright! You can make some pancakes if you want to? They’re mostly for Honey-senpai and the twins whenever they wake up!” Mori nodded and took the spatula from you. The rest of the morning was spend in a comfortable silence, only interrupted by you giving Mori some cooking tips and asking which vegetables and leftovers he wanted in the soup.

Proudly, Mori showed you the big stack of pancakes he had just made, and you gave him a thumbs up. “Amazing! Now we just have to wait for …” “I smell pancakes!” You almost flinched as you heard the older hosts voice behind you. When did he get up? Had he been awake this whole time? Slowly you turned around, looking into his happy face. “We made some for breakfast, I had a feeling you’d like them”, you said, trying not to be freaked out by his weird sense of smell for sweets. “Yay!”, he proclaimed, “Let’s set the table, so we can eat!” You nodded and handed Honey a stack of plates, when suddenly Mori stepped in front of you, grabbing your chin with one hand and lifting your head to look at him. You felt the heat creep onto your cheeks at his touch. “M-Mori-senpai”, you stammered, but then he lifted his other hand and gently wiped something of your face with his thumb. His fingers felt warm on your face and his touch was soft. A lot softer than how Kyouya had touched you yesterday. With wide eyes you stared up at him. “Flour”, he explained and immediately you understood and relaxed your shoulders again. “Oh”, you said, but before you could react any further, two very well-known voices appeared next to you. “Hey hey, are we interrupting something?” Immediately, Mori let go of your face as if he had been burnt by it. Hikaru appeared next to his brother. “Is there a secret kitchen party and we haven’t been invited?” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, huge kitchen party, too bad, you’re late.” “Hey”, Kaoru started poking your cheek. “That’s mean”, Hikaru said, poking the other one. “You know me”, you shrugged, “mean to the core.” “Have you made breakfast?”, they realized at the same time. “Yes.” “But why? “Yeah, there’s maids for that.” “Well, there are no maids here as you can see.” “Well, then there’s delivery”, Hikaru shrugged, and you waited for Kaoru’s response but instead he smiled down at you. “Thanks.” Hikaru sent him an irritated gaze, but you beamed up at him. “You’re welcome, now go, go, set the table if you want to eat!” “Do we have to?”, they groaned in unison, but a raised eyebrow from you was enough to get them to move. You shook your head, watching your friends set the table and a weird sense of security and happiness washed over you. It weirdly felt like home. Just… safe. Although a few people were still missing. Smiling at the view, you saw Tamaki and Haruhi walk down the stairs, bickering again, but stopping as they saw the almost fully set breakfast table. “(Y/n) have you done all this?”, Tamaki asked, but you shook your head. “I had some help." You smiled at Mori. “You could have woken me up, I would have helped”, Haruhi protested, but you shushed her quickly. “That’s exactly, why I didn’t wake you! You deserved some rest.” You looked around. “Well, Kyouya-senpai is still missing.” You checked your watch. “I better go wake him up.” Suddenly you felt the gaze of all the hosts on you. “Better don’t do that”, Hikaru said. “Not if you want to live”, Kaoru finished. “What do you mean?” “Kyouya has the blood type AB”, Tamaki explained, but you still were a little confused. “So?” “Kyouya really doesn’t like to be woken up”, Honey said, while already stuffing his face with his first pancake. “You are not the one to talk”, Mori solely commented on his cousin’s utterance, but since you also could not really place this, you just sighed. “Ah, come on, guys, it can’t be that bad … right?” “Try it at your own risk”, the twins said, shrugging, while already sitting down at the breakfast table and you gulped. “Well, I think he is going to be angrier, if we let him sleep and we miss our car back, so I guess I’ll… try my best.” But you had barely finished the sentence, when you were already beginning to doubt your idea.

Carefully, you made your way up the stairs and turned to the left where you knew Kyouya's room was located. You knocked carefully, but didn’t get a reply. You knocked again. Still nothing. You gulped heavily and decided to go in. Once you had stepped inside your eyes needed a moment to adjust to the darkness and suddenly you weren’t so sure anymore of what you were doing here. You had entered Kyouya’s room without his permission, to wake him up, also without his permission. Even morning people would have every right to be pissed at you and he apparently was the complete opposite of a morning person. Biting your lip you questioned why you were here again and thought about simply turning around, it was not too late to just leave again, but then you remembered the feeling of seeing everybody help out in the kitchen. And how happy that had made you. And how much you had noticed Kyouya’s absence in this moment. A part of you really wanted him to be part of this memory. Maybe it was foolish, but now that you were already inside his room you decided there was no going back. You took a deep breath, and carefully stepped closer to his bed. You looked at his sleeping face and couldn’t help but notice how relaxed he looked. You smiled a little to yourself. His hair was messy from sleep and he seemed unusually relaxed. He was always so composed, seeing him in this state was highly unusual, but you had to admit that you liked it. The messy hair was weirdly attractive. You swalled down the lump in your throat and knelt down beside him. “Kyouya-senpai”, you whispered, but he still didn’t move. “Kyouya-senpai”, you tried again, this time a bit louder. You sighed. This was not working. You stood back up again, and carefully moved his shoulder. “Kyouya-sen…” But this was as far as you got, for in the next second you felt Kyouya’s grip on your wrist that had just tried to shake him awake. The sudden pull of his touch made you fall over. Your upper body collided with his and your faces were just inches apart from each other as you now stared into his eyes. The usual brown-greyish colour had turned black and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he looked at you. “First you won’t let me sleep and now you wake me early in the morning?” His voice was ice cold. Wait, not let him sleep, what have you …Oh no, you must have woken him up last night with your crying. Immediately your face went bright red, thinking that he had heard your absolute breakdown. Your mouth went dry and your thoughts went blank. How much had he heard? Had he heard you cry? Had he heard anything at all? You felt your cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. You felt his chest moving with his chest against yours, his fingers burning into your wrist and you were way too aware of the warmth radiating from him. You tried to think of something to say, anything. You wanted to apologize for waking him both yesterday and today, but you realized you were close enough to smell the faint scent of cedar and lavender that always seemed to surround him and it clouded your thoughts. All you could perceive was the warmth of his skin against yours and how close his face was. This was getting really weird, you had to say something, anything to make this better. Just apologise, (y/n), apolo … “I made breakfast.” You slapped yourself internally, but nothing else would come over your lips. You swallowed hard and looked down at him. His eyes seemed to regain a bit of colour, although, he had still gripped your wrist tightly and seemed slightly murderous. “You… made breakfast?”, he asked back. “Yeah.” “…” “…” “You wake me up ... to tell me you made breakfast.” “Yeah.” He seemed to think for a second, before you could feel his chest begin to vibrate with a low chuckle. “You made breakfast”, he repeated again and finally let go of your wrist. Right away you scrambled back up to your feet, although you were immediately missing the warmth. Kyouya sat up and looked at you. It was impossible for you to guess what he was thinking. He still radiated a slight murderous spirit, but at least he didn’t seem like he wanted to decapitate you on the spot anymore. “I’ll be right down.”

Trying to steady your breath you made your way back down the stairs, your legs a little wobbly from the second close call with death in the last two days and only now noticed that all the other hosts, including Haruhi had gathered at the foot of the staircase, looking up at you expectantly. Before you could react, you found yourself in Tamaki’s embrace. “Oh, (y/n), you can’t imagine how glad we are that you are alive and well!” You blinked a few times. It had been scary, but now he was overdoing it. “I am fine”, you tried to get out between him squeezing you, and it took the help of both twins to peel him away from you. “You don’t look fine”, they observed and you realized, that you probably still were blushing quite heavily. They seemed to mistake it for fear. “No worries, (y/n)-chan! You’re safe now!”, Honey assured you with a serious gaze. “And now sit down and have breakfast with us! A few pancakes will help you get better!”

It didn’t take long for Kyouya to come downstairs, neatly dressed and styled as always. It was as if he was a completely different person. “Good morning”, he wished everyone at the table and they responded. “Good morning, (y/n)”, he said to you in particular, his voice cold, and you knew he was still mad at you for waking him up. “Good morning”, you mumbled back. You had just gotten up to get Honey a few more pancakes, and immediately made your way back into the kitchen to grab another bowl of rice, a miso soup and some of the fish from yesterday you had been frying up again. You placed them one by one in front of Kyouya who looked at you with an unreadable gaze. “I said I made breakfast”, you mumbled, and shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “And I remember you once said you don’t really like sweet stuff, so I made something savory, too.” Kyouya didn’t reply and you didn’t dare to look into his face so you made your way back to your seat to finish your own breakfast. You tried to ignore him, but somehow you caught your gaze wandering back towards him, eyeing the food in front of him suspiciously. You knew it tasted fine, you had had some yourself and Mori had also told you it’s delicious, so you weren’t sure why you were so worried about what Kyouya might think about it. You chewed on a bite of rice, and acted as if you were listening to something Haruhi was telling you, but actually you were watching the dark-haired host from the corner of your eyes, curious about how he'd react. You watched him separate a piece of fish and put it in his mouth. He halted for a second and looked at you, almost surprised. Your gaze met his for a second, but he immediately averted his gaze and focused it on the food again. You had to turn back to Haruhi, so that she wouldn’t realize that you hadn’t been listening to a word she said, but you could have sworn that you had seen a small smirk on Kyouya’s face, as he took a second bite and somehow this made you irrationally happy.

Kyouya for his share did not remember when he had last eaten a homecooked meal like that. Trying to show as little emotion as possible, he nonetheless gladly realized that she seemed to be feeling better. A small smile played on her lips now and he watched her talk and laugh with the other hosts. That sight might have even been worth getting woken up for. Might.

[mish-anthropy]

IMPORTANT: Stolen AO3 works being reposted w/o consent, allegedly by AI scraper website

Hi everyone, This is a really urgent notice - there is a reported AI scraper bot/site going around scraping work from AO3. I don't know for certain if it is for AI specifically, but it is definitely reuploading AO3 authors' work without consent.

This is the website/platform in question: https://rivd.net/ Below the fold, I'll give some more info, as well as explain how to protect your work on AO3 for the time being.

A friend found 12 of their My Hero Academia fics uploaded to the site. If you have written for that fandom, please check whether your work has been stolen by this platform. Several people have demanded that their work be removed, but whoever runs the site just responds with instructions for a DMCA takedown request, which is hugely invasive regarding private information and honestly makes it look a bit like an identity theft scam.

Some AO3 users have complained on the site itself, and you can see the admins just responded with a DMCA request form. I also just tried to get into the "Fanfiction" category on the site, and got 404ed? The site is very janky/broken, which makes it look even more suspect. Thus far I don't think the BG3 fandom's works have been affected, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time. The best way to prevent your works from being scraped right now is to lock down your viewers/readers to only registered AO3 users.

How to lock down your works on AO3 to prevent scraping/theft

The best way to do this is to lock down your works so that they can only be accessed/read by registered AO3 users. I just want to say upfront - this is not absolutely foolproof. If a registered user is going around doing the scraping, this method won't do much to stop anyone. But at the very least your work will have some basic protection from scrapers that pull publicly available works.

Fortunately, AO3 provides the option to edit all your works at once, so it makes it much easier to lock them all down, and then 'unlock' them later.

When using desktop, navigate to your AO3 profile dashboard. At the top right (below your AO3 username), you will see the button to "Edit Works".

From there you'll head to the "Edit Multiple Works" page, and on that page select the box to choose "All" works. You might need to do this for each fandom you have written for. Then click through on the "Edit" button.

On the next page, scroll down until you reach the "Privacy" section, and under the "Visibility" subsection, make sure to select "Only show to registered users". To 'unlock' your works again later, you follow these same steps, but instead select the "Show to all" option.

Hopefully this will help in the interim while this particular platform is doing this, but unfortunately with AI scraping being a reality now, any work that is publicly accessible is at risk of being stolen or scraped. I really hope this information is helpful in this particular instance though.

- Mish

[cybertroniannugget]

Primetime

Some smut with my favorite Autobot I uploaded on Ao3 some time ago. Felt like it also belongs here.

Some fluff, overstimulation and well this whole fic is sus, enjoy.

About this fic:

ftm reader, mention of top surgery scars, pre bottom surgery, SO NOT SAFE FOR WORK

2, 131 words

You plump down onto your bed, taking your phone out of your pant's pocket, hoping you didn't crush it in the process.

You gladly didn't, and started scrolling through Tiktok, trying to find something to cure your boredom with.

But do you know what comes after boredom?

Maybe you would get sleepy right? Well not right now, as you felt a familiar tingling sensation between your legs.

Horniness...

That is what came after boredom here.

Of course it had to...

Now you couldn't really concentrate on what you were watching, so you decided on putting your phone down and let your face fall into the pillow.

Music is the way, you thought to yourself and opened Spotify, connecting your headphones to the cellular device via Bluetooth.

So now you were laying there, on your stomach, listening to your favorite artist.

Your thoughts started to drift off to a really good looking red and blue robot and you sensed the pulsating feeling between your legs increase again. I mean he really was handsome so no wonder merely thinking about him would do things to your body.

Rolling onto your back you release a sigh, staring at the ceiling, watching the sunset color it in an apricot light.

Might as well just give in...

And with that thought you slid your hand underneath your shorts, feeling around the wetness, now starting to slowly circle your clit with your fingers.

Whimpers escaped your mouth as you let your imagination run free.

How good it would feel to have him touching you right now. Longing for his touch, you whimpered his name, licking your fingers before inserting two of them into your now soaking vagina.

Arching your back as you moved them in and out of the warmth between your legs you once again moaned Optimus' name, wishing he'd be here with you in this moment.

You moved your other hand up your shirt, your head laid back and eyes closed in pleasure.

The sudden sensation of a cold servo caressing along your thigh pulled you out of your haze and that's when you finally noticed Optimus, who had sat down next to you onto the bed.

"Don't mind me. I am just watching this beautiful scene before me."

You couldn't help but blush at that.

"For how long have you been watching?", you ask, a bit out of breath, the hand you used for pleasuring yourself resting on your left thigh now, while Optimus continued caressing your other thigh.

"A few minutes maybe."

He leaned closer, speaking into your ear. "I must say, the way you whispered my name does sound delightful. You don't mind repeating it for me?"

You leaned towards his audial, a smug expression your face, as you lowly whimpered his name again, aware of the effect it would have on your lover.

The caressing turned into a gentle grip on your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine. His servo moved upwards, toward your waistband.

Before going any further, he looks at you, continuing when you give him a nod. As turned on as the Prime may be, he still respected your boundaries and would not proceed without your clear consent.

Especially because he knew that at times you do not feel comfortable engaging in such an act, given your body dysphoria.

Now that he got what he needed, his servo slid underneath your shorts.

When his digits met your clit, the cold sensation made you gasp.

He looked at you to check, and you nodded again, your back arching slightly as you felt him circling the bud full of sensitive nerve endings.

He had no problem starting right away, as you had worked yourself up quite well and were pretty wet already.

He used that wetness to slowly start inserting one and then another digit into you, steadily moving them in and out at a slow pace.

Riding his digits you started moaning as the pleasure increased.

In your own arousal you slid a hand underneath your shirt, partly exposing your now flat chest.

It was the first time Optimus actually saw your chest post top surgery.

You heard his vents kicking in, as his arousal grew, optics glowing a shade darker now while admiring your body.

As you slowly sat up, he stopped in his motions, watching your every move. He then retracted his servo from in between your legs.

You grab his wrist, looking directly at him as you guide his other servo to your chest, letting him feel it. He scooted closer, your legs on each of his side now and him pulling your shirt up again.

One servo on your hips, he brushed a single digit across the healed scars, optics glowing brightly.

He knew how much you had wanted to have this procedure done and upon seeing the result he couldn't help but feel this immense amount of joy.

"Looks good, doesn't it?", you ask, smiling sheepishly.

The Prime simply nods, still admiring your chest before him. He lifted the shirt above your head, removing it and then dropping it beside you onto the bed.

Closing the distance between the two of you, you place a soft kiss on his lip plating, smiling.

"I'm glad you like it.", you whisper, eyes closed, resting your forehead against his. You knew he couldn't really kiss you back, but that didn't stop you from giving him a kiss from time to time.

A hand on his cheek, you gently stroke over the plating with your thumb, eyes full of love as you look into the bright blue optics of the person you loved so dearly.

Feeling as he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, you removed them before placing your legs on each of his sides again, now completely bare infront of him with a faint blush across your cheeks.

You heard a familiar clicking sound, as his interface panel parted, revealing his hardened phallus.

Again, he looked at you, awaiting your go-ahead.

"You may proceed.", you declared, mocking the formal way of speech he uses, earning a chuckle from Optimus.

"Very well then, it is my pleasure.", he replied bowing before you, engaging in your spoof, which left you snickering.

You take a deep breath, relaxing your body as he went ahead, starting off by gently rubbing his errection across your folds, using the moisture as lube and then placing his tip at your entrance.

You moved your hips towards him, allowing him to start entering you. One servo on your hips he gradually went deeper, until his hips met yours.

The cold metal made you shiver and you couldn't help but gasp as he started moving.

Now having a firm grip on your hips with both servos he started fastening his pace, vents working overtime.

Placing the back of your hand across your face, you moved your head to the side, moans escaping your mouth as you felt him rut into you.

Muttering something in Cybertronian, he lifted your hips up, now able to go deeper.

"I don't know what the fuck you just said, but it sounded hot.~", you managed to get out in between your moans and whimpers.

His optics dim, he replied in the same language again, followed by a thrust that was harder than the ones before, resulting in you arching your back, loudly moaning out his name.

" Oh god... Yes this feels so g-good... Please continue!", you heaved, eyes rolling back.

"Look at me.", Optimus demanded, giving you another harsh thrust and you happily obliged.

Given how rough he started to become you knew that tomorrow there would definitely be marks, but you didn't care.

One of his servos left your hip, and he started circling your clit with his thumb, making you breathe in sharply. You knew what that meant. And as you didn't protest he let you ride through your orgasm, enjoying the noises you made, not even attempting to stop moving inside of you.

Gasping for air, Optimus had stopped rubbing your clit, only having his thumb gently pressing against it. His pace had slowed down and he was now thrusting into you more roughly.

You covered your mouth as your whimpers turned desperate, but he was having none of it.

Removing your hand, he pinned it above your head, now leaning forward and looking you deep into the eyes.

"I want to hear each one of those sweet sounds of yours."

He spoke lowly, his voice carrying a threatening undertone.

Gripping the sheets with your free hand, you bit down onto your lower lip, breathing heavily as the Prime continued his harsh movements inside of you, not letting go of your pinned hand.

He may not be one to speak a lot during intercourse, but when he used his words, he did so with sharp intend.

And you knew damn well knew how good he was at this.

Your legs started shaking and you felt your second high approaching.

"Optimus Please...", you begged after the second orgasm went through your body.

He squinted his optics, waiting for you to use the safeword you two had agreed on.

When you didn't, he continued letting his own pleasure run though his systems.

His thumb now started circling your already very sensitive clit again, making you yelp, your hips instinctively moving away from him, only for you to be pulled back down onto him.

Tears started streaming down your face as he continued tormenting your already overstimulated clitoris, each rough thrust adding to the painful pleasure.

And you loved it. That's why you hadn't used the safeword.

You knew it took him longer to reach his overload, and fuck... You loved the overstimulation that came with it.

Optimus let go off your hand, adjusting his position to be more upright and caressing along your chest in the process, as he threw his helm back, a deep groan escaping his vocals.

He was close...

Your hips jerked once again, and he firmed his grip on them even more, keeping you in a fixed position, unable to move away from him.

Arching your back was the only option you had left in this situation.

The way his hips met yours was painful and you rolled your eyes back, one hand gripping onto his wrist.

Bothered by you turning away your gaze, he placed one servo under the area of your sternum, carefully but sternly pushing you down, causing you to straighten your back.

He again said something in his native language.

You maybe couldn't understand the exact words, but definitely what he meant:

To look at him. He wanted you to look up at him again.

With your body aching, you submit to his demand.

"P... Please...", you beg watching your partner chasing after his release, groaning and optics flickering while continuing to speak Cybertronian.

My god, he's so hot...

You think to yourself, starting to feel lightheaded.

Right at that moment Optimus' movements came to a sudden halt, indicating that he had reached his overload. His helm hanging low, he had closed his optics, a last deep groan leaving him, which turned into static at the end.

He thrusted into you one last time, before removing himself from you, letting his interface panel click back into place.

You let your head fall back, eyes closed and breathing heavily, completely drenched in sweat.

Optimus' grip on your hips had loosened, but he remained in his place, letting his systems cool down.

Both of you were exhausted now.

Still overheated, he caressed your thigh, then got up to go get you a towel.

You just laid there, catching your breath.

These damn sheets will definitely need to be changed.

Slowly sitting up and looking down at the mess between your legs you mumble to yourself.

"I should've placed a towel there..."

Optimus returned with a towel and a bottle of water.

Gladly accepting the two items he handed over, you place to towel in your lap, and opened the bottle, emptying it all in one go.

He had already cleaned himself off and sat down next to you, tenderly caressing your back.

After putting the cap back onto the bottle you throw it across your room, hitting the garbage bin.

Balling your fist after the small victory, you chuckle, and start wiping yourself off. Not that this would get you clean enough but it was a start.

You'll definitely need a shower, that's for sure.

"How about you go take a shower, and I join you after changing the bedsheets?"

You pressed a soft kiss on Optimus' cheek and smiled. "That's an offer I can't turn down."

Optimus returned the smile and ruffled your hair. "Take your time.", he added after you got up and made your way to the bathroom.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #30] Evaluating the Meaning of Home

warnings: to busan we go!!! kook is driving, yummy <3 , v fluffy, jk using the birds as an excuse!!! i spy with my little eye something beginning with.... b!!! ends in 'is jealous! and territorial!' !!!

a/n: this header was almost lost to the void, but I had a screenshot of the chapter to put on insta when I first published it lol, so it's a screenshot of a screenshot of a screenshot (of a screenshot?? (technically)). but it also mean I know the exact date of this og upload--31 march 2023. waaaa so long ago

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

You're rushing around your apartment by the time Jeongguk shows up at your place again a few hours later. 

He'd given you time to get packed and ready, but also had taken the time to get his things together, too. His visit to your place the night before had been unplanned, so he'd lost the morning to get ready. He's like the white rabbit today - late, late, late - but it's inconsequential. Doesn't matter. It's a piss-easy drive, even with rush-hour traffic.

A quick call to his mum had been made, just to let her know you'd be joining him. She offered to make up his brother's room with fresh sheets before Jeongguk had even asked.

"It's fine," Jeongguk had said. "I can sort it when I get there-"

"It's no bother," she had assured him. "I don't want her thinking I can't keep my house in order! You'll sleep in your room, yes? Or would it be better if you were in Jeongmin's room? Might be strange, considering they don't know one another."

"Mum, he moved out a decade ago," Jeongguk laughed. "It's just a spare room."

"It's still your brothers!" His mother had reprimanded him. Fiercely proud of both her boys, she never wanted either of them to think they didn't have a place to call home. "Just like your room is still yours. Still has your little Spiderman posters up and those Girls Generation pictures next to your bed-"

"Put her in Jeongmin's room," Jeongguk had cringed. Knows it's full of baseball memorabilia, but would rather you be overwhelmed by his older brother's Lotte Giants obsession than his teenage girl crushes.

"Suit yourself," his mother had laughed. "What time should I expect you? What would you like for dinner? What did you say your friend's name is again?"

A million and one questions were asked, so Jeongguk's 'quick' call had taken far longer than he'd intended.

When he arrives at your place, he apologises. You simply shake your head. Invite him in.

"Just give me a minute," you say. "I'm running late, too."

He doesn't oppose. Notices your bags by the door, so offers to take them down to his car - of which you gladly accept, until you glance over to him and notice, well, him.

In jeans again, partially inspired by the pair of yours he'd stolen that morning to go to the shops, the shirt he's wearing is white. Isn't as baggy as his usual style is. Tucked into his jeans, a belt secures everything in place. You're reminded, again, of why Jeon Jeongguk is a menace.

But the white of the shirt against his tan skin is so heavenly, it's impossible not to stare; tattoos out, as if it isn't still chilly outside. Coat must be left in the car, you assume.

"Hey, hey," you call after him, hand outstretched to beckon him back. Nod toward his neck when he turns around. Your admiration for his appearance had drawn your attention to the marks left by your lips. "Can't be going home with your neck looking like that. Let me sort it out before we head off."

"My neck?" Jeongguk questions, reaching up to hold it, pressing his palm down to try and figure out what you mean - and then he remembers. Gets a little bashful. Giggles. "Ohhh."

And so he traipses back to your apartment and hops up onto the kitchen counter, bags on the floor. Dangles his feet as you rummage around for your concealer and pigment corrector in your room. You've only packed essentials with you to go to Busan. Think it will be better for your skin if you let the ocean air get well-acquainted with your pores.

Silence takes place of your usual banter as you come to stand between his legs and get to work fixing the mess you made on his skin. There's a neutral calmness to the way you both like to exist together; without pressure to perform, or appear likeable, or personable.

Hair down, Jeongguk toys with it just to give him something to do. Has a hairband on his wrist - one of yours - so decided to annoy you a little. Pulls all your hair to one side and starts to tie it up in a ponytail.

"Stop," you hum, a little smile on your lips as you dab product onto his skin. "I'm trying to focus."

"I'm helping," he says. "Getting your hair out of the way."

"Was never in the way," you grumble.

"Was," he objects.

Pulling away from the task at hand, you stand a little straighter. Raise your eyebrows, your hair making you look like an awkward singer from the 80's. Teeth on show, dimple etched into his cheek, Jeongguk looks far too pleased with himself. Reaches for your wrist, and pulls your spare hairband off it. Has another idea, now.

"Back to work," he says. "Haven't got all day. Chop chop."

Scoffing, you're about to refuse - but Jeongguk knows this. Knows he's being a cheeky bastard just to get a reaction, and now that he has? Kinda regrets it. Hooks his dangling legs behind yours. Hairband hooked over his thumb, his hands sink around your throat. Pulls you closer.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he grins. "Don't go. Please fix my neck."

Narrowing your eyes, you ignore how pouty your lips feel; how much they wanna close the gap between you and him.

"I'll fix your hair," he promises.

"Fine," you say, purely because the way he's holding you close is unbearable . You need to be out of his grasp immediately. Focus. "But not because you want me to. I'm only doing this because I don't want your parents to think poorly of me."

"My parents are gonna love you," he mutters as you get back to work, his hands gently prizing the hairband from your hair and letting it fall loose. "And who cares, anyways? Not like you're my girlfriend. Don't need to impress them."

"Doesn't matter," you say as you tap out the half-dried concealer on his throat. "Still want them to like me."

"Like I said," he shrugs, tying your hair up again, this time splitting it down the middle. Left side first, then right. Two cute little buns. "They will. Already told them a friend is coming with me. Had to really reinforce the fact you're just a friend. Should have heard mum when I said you were a girl-"

"Oh, God," you grimace.

"Honestly, I thought she was gonna get my entire family on a group call just to tell them her little boy is growing up," he laughs. "Was bitterly disappointed when I said you were just a friend. Had to tell her you used to have a thing with Jimin-"

"You told her what?!"

"Calm down!" He laughs. "Said you dated, not that you fucked him and went back for round two even though he didn't make you-"

"Jeongguk!"

"Sorry," he lies. He's not sorry at all. The smirk on his pretty lips attests to this. "Easier for us both if she thinks that there's like... nothing."

"There is nothing," you remind him.

Jeongguk's dreamily dark eyes roll. Head shakes. "Careful. Your nose will start growing, Pinocchio."

Looking down at you with a fondness reserved for only... well, you , Jeongguk thinks you look so silly with your hair in little lopsided space buns. Glitter in the corner of your eyes, there's a charming quality to the way you present yourself to the world. Cute . Your appearance is quite different from your personality, and yet they go hand in hand.

A My Melody girlie, yes, but there's a reason you seem to get on so well with a Kuromi boy. You and him are cut from the same cloth; different and yet so similar.

"Big noses are hot," you shrug.

Jeongguk fights a smile. Knows his isn't huge , but that it's been noted as 'well-proportioned' a few times by girls he's dated. Been a selling point. Wonders if maybe this is your way of giving him a compliment without directly saying as such. Chooses not to press, just in case it isn't.

Neck fixed as well as it ever will be, you're quite pleased with your work.

"Let's go," you encourage, not caring to change your hair. Will just fix it in his car. Haven't worn your hair like this in ages and it's always cute - even if you know he was trying to make it look ridiculous.

He lets you walk ahead. Grabs the recycling that needs to be put in the little trash pile on the corner of your street, not thinking much of it. Just saves you a job when you get back.

His car smells just like it always does; leathery and a little musky. Manly. You'd be lying if you said you didn't like it, but you figure he's not to thank for it.

It takes you less than five seconds to notice the origami birds up on the dash, where you both know your feet will end up within half an hour.

"Oh?" You sound, not really asking anything, yet Jeongguk knows what you mean.

"Been on my desk for ages now," he says - and he's right. They fell weeks ago. Have been cluttering up his space. "Figure we may as well do them seeing as we have some time together."

You laugh a little, shaking your head.

"I've not forgotten earlier," you tell him. "You ain't getting fuck all from me when it comes to the birds."

Jeongguk just grins, sinking his key into the ignition and starting the car up. He glances over to make sure your seatbelt is on, before knocking it into first and setting off down the sideroad your apartment is up.

"Read it," he says.

"Which is yours?"

"Not even gonna give you an answer for that one, B," he deadpans, flicking up his indicator to merge onto the main road. "Use your eyes."

Cringing, you hum out a small " ah ."

The birds are like yin and yang; complementary and yet entirely different. One is pristine, folded perfectly, still holding its shape. The other? Well... the other is yours. A little lopsided, and definitely not your finest work, it even has a few specks of glitter that dance in the light cascading through Jeongguk's windshield.

"Fair enough," you admit, reaching out for his.

Unfolding it, you can't help but feel a little apprehensive. Nervous. It's a while since any of the birds have been done, and you -

"Oh, you mother fucker," you laugh as soon as you open it. "You got me here under false pretences!"

Written in his handwriting is an oh-so-convenient fear:

Take a girl to meet my parents.

"No, I didn't!" He protests, voice a little whiney. "I didn't! I swear. I genuinely do think you need some clean air, you little goblin - but like, two birds, one stone."

"I've been bamboozled," you whine.

"No, you haven't!" Jeongguk chuckles, finding your little faux tantrum all very endearing.

"I have," you insist.

"I'd forgotten all about it when I asked," he admits, knowing that you'll likely think it's bullshit.

Is proven right when you scoff a very bratty, " bollocks ."

"It's not bollocks," he says, almost choking on his sweet little laughs. "Honestly, B. I saw them when I was getting my stuff together and figured if we do them now, it will be one less bird to worry about in the future. We do have lives to live, yanno. Can't be doing birds forever."

"Why not?" You retort a little too quickly. "Actually, yeah, no. You're right."

"Exaaaaactly," he hums, smug in your confirmation that he'd made the right choice. "Haven't looked at your bird yet, so whatever that is? Yeah. Don't blame me."

Part of you doesn't want to open it. It feels sort of embarrassing, knowing how sweet all of Jeongguk's birds are compared to yours. No matter how endearing his are, yours always seem to be vulgar - and while you know Jeongguk would never oppose them, it makes you feel a little insecure.

You do all of the things with him because you wrote them down. They're your desires.

But Jeongguk has proven time and time again that there's nothing to be embarrassed about.

So you open it.

Read it in your head.

Smile .

Feel your heart flutter like the petals of falling cherry blossom in early spring.

"What?" Jeongguk says softly, noticing the curve of your lips as he glances to the side. "What is it, B?"

"Cute," you admit. "It's really cute."

"Okay..." he waits for clarification.

"It's like, the nicest one I wrote," you say, secretly pleased with yourself.

"Which is...?"

"Holding hands," you simplify the bird. Don't shout it like it's written down, all caps, and an abundance of exclamation marks. "Just like... Down the street, I guess. Publically."

"Holding hands?" Jeongguk questions, completely confused by everything you are. "Sorry, holding hands ? What happened to mutual masturbation? Showering toge-"

"Shut up," you cringe, holding the now flat paper up over your face. Mortifying .

Jeongguk's playful nature doesn't relent, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching over to you. His long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling the cover from your rosy cheeks. The energy between you is electric, yet entirely calm; a contradiction. So perfectly you .

"Holding hands," he chuckles to himself quietly, shaking his head with such fondness it's hard to remember a time when interacting like this wasn't normal for you both.

A friendship formed in the dizzying haze of Dionysus, nurtured over iced coffees and acrylic paint; there's something good between you and Jeongguk. Something rare. Something worth protecting.

And when Jeongguk slides his fingers between yours, setting your hands down on his thigh, you can't help but feel safe. He'll guard your deepest fears like the fiercest companion you ever imagine, yet softly encourage you to face them with Midas' hands. You'll become golden where you once felt brittle, and Jeongguk will be the one to blame.

When you glisten, and men unworthy of you see the beauty of your restoration, they'll pillage. Take what he's fixed; rob you of your worth. Perhaps you should be angry at him. Perhaps he's setting you up for destruction.

But how lovely it is to feel somewhat whole, again, even if just for a while.

"It's not what the bird meant," you say softly, pretending as if your heart isn't beating a mile a minute. Perhaps it does scare you more than you realised.

"It's what it says," Jeongguk replies just as sweetly.

He's not wrong, granted, but there are layers to this. There always is. He knows this. Just sort of wanted to hold your hand.

"I know," you nod. He holds your hand a little tighter. Anticipates an explanation. Doesn't think you need to explain it at all, but knows you will regardless. "It's just that -"

God, Jeongguk thinks. Know you so well.

"- My ex, like, would never hold my hand. Or at least, he did, but then he sort of used it like a punishment. When he was pissed off with me, he'd refuse to hold it, and like - I'm not a baby ," you quickly interrupt your story to downplay just how hurtful it always was. "I just... It was different, you know? I was so used to holding the hands of the people I loved, and then it was like 'oh, I got a little too much glitter on his new tie' and my hand wouldn't get held for the rest of the weekend."

Hindsight is a wonderful thing. You're starting to understand why Seokjin hated your glitter so much. It's the same reason Jeongguk loves it so much. It's your calling card. I WAS HERE carved into wooden benches as a teenager; love locks secured to bridges around the world. To see glitter on their skin is to see evidence of you. Your existence. Your role in their lives.

The glitter must have made it hard to cheat.

It's a devastating realisation. One you wish you hadn't made. One you'll never be able to forget.

Jeongguk's grip on your dainty, ring-clad fingers tightens.

"Your ex needs fuckin' therapy," he growls. "Had no right making you feel like that."

You just shrug. Jeongguk's grip loosens, thinking you're trying to pull away, but is comforted when you don't. He strokes his thumb over yours, soothing your woes.

"Think we all need a little therapy," you offer a small, sincere smile.

"You're probably right," Jeongguk admits.

"Anyways, let's not think about that," you say, pulling your hand back now, folding your bird back up into its original pattern. "Road trips are made for forgetting exes, not thinking about them."

And with that, Jeongguk presses no more on the topic. Lets you connect your phone to his aux. Is thankful he dragged you along, 'cause you really do need a break, maybe even more than he does. Your life has been go-go-go since the moment he met you. It's partially his fault, but he hopes he can make up for it, now.

Thankfully for him, if there's one thing you enjoy about being Jeongguk's friend, it's riding shotgun in his car.

He handles it so well that you wouldn't be surprised to discover he's the son of a racecar driver, or maybe had been on in a past life. There's an ease to how he manoeuvres - and even though car guys are pretty high up on your list of boys you never wanna date, he does make you reconsider this. Never before has a man reversing ever gotten your panties wet - but a hand behind your headrest, the other flat against his steering wheel as he ignores the automatic sensors and drives according to what feels right?

Mhhhm. Has you thinking maybe the passenger princess girlies know something you don't. You always assume guys with nice cars are overcompensating for having a small dick, but Jeongguk has already proven this theory wrong.

Still a little frustrated from the way Jeongguk had worked you up a few hours earlier without giving you a release of any kind, you squeeze your legs together. Sink further down into your seat. Decide that thinking about his dick in any capacity is a bad decision. A distraction is needed.

"I spy with my little eye," you sigh, looking out the window for inspiration. The world passes by in such a blur that it's hard to pinpoint something. Everything is a rush of brown and beige, winter killing off the lush greens of the mountains that you miss dearly. It's been like this for months, and will remain this way until March, at the very earliest.

"Something beginning with?" He asks, entertaining you without a second thought.

"Something beginning with... R."

"Really sexy boy?" He asks without missing a beat.

"Ddaeng."

"Hmmm," he hums. "That's the only obvious answer."

"I can't see any sexy boys, though," you pout. "Let alone really sexy."

"Okay, firstly, that's rude," he tells you with a small huff. "And secondly, give me a clue. Inside the car or outside?"

"Inside."

"So... A really sexy boy?"

Laughing, you shake your head. "Really big idiot, more like."

"Is that the answer?!"

"No," you giggle. "Think smarter, Koo."

"I am thinking smart," he insists. "And what have I told you about calling me that?"

"That it will give you a raging boner?"

"Well... True, but no. Don't do it."

"Because it will give you a raging boner?"

"Oh my God," he exclaims. "R! Raging boner!"

"Do you have a boner?"

Jeongguk shrugs. "Meh. Bit of a semi."

"Fucking hell, are you ever not horny?"

"Rarely."

"Such a boy," you laugh. "But no. Not raging boner.  C'mon, Gguk. It's easy! Think!"

Jeongguk spends almost 8 minutes guessing. Eventually, you have to tell him.

"Radio?!" He shrieks when you reveal it as the answer. "You can't see the radio!"

"It's right there!" You point towards the screen displaying what's currently playing on his aux.

"That's a screen!"

"Oh don't be so pedantic," you laugh. "Okay, okay. Redo. Your go."

"Fuckin' radio," he mutters, shaking his head. "Okay. I spy with my little eye..."

Feet up on Jeongguk's dash, you ignore him every time he tells you to take them down. Sometimes he reaches over and forces them down. You always just put them back up ten seconds later. Let him think that maybe this time you'll follow his orders - but you're still reeling from his little power play in bed this morning.

Like fuck you'll do anything he says. Not today.

"If I crash, your legs will impact your chest," he warns. "Knees'll go right through your ribs."

"So don't crash," you say, knowing that such a comment will only earn a defensive take from Jeongguk - and you're proven right.

"I know how to drive," he asserts, and he kind of reminds you of your own father, and how much he hated your mother's backseat driving. "But it's other fuckers! There are some idiots on the road!"

You snort a little laugh. "Yeah. You're right about that."

"Maybe I will just crash my car," Jeongguk mutters, but it's all in good fun.

You're both smiling; both pleased for things to be feeling normal between you again. You may bicker about the tiny things, but it's only because you feel so secure in the big things. How lovely it is to have a friend like him.

"You'll do no such thing," you tell him with absolute certainty. "You love this car too much."

Jeongguk doesn't reply. Hums a small indication of agreement, but chooses not to elaborate. Given the choice between you or the car? He'd crash it a hundred times over if it was the only way to keep you safe. Cares so much more for the girl in his passenger seat than he does for the vehicle she's in.

It's not a long drive - only about an hour - but Jeongguk takes the scenic route. It's been a while since he's had you here, and he likes it. Likes the subtle notes of your perfume filling the car, and the way you quietly hum along to songs on his playlists.

When he fills up the gas halfway along the journey, you grab the snacks. Ask him what he wants, and roll your eyes when he says, "surprise me."

The service station is a little dated; white walls peeling, display signs relics from better days. A small complex, there are just a handful of food stalls and a small CU. The sweet scent of fresh pastries wafts through the air, thanks to a small tent out the front where a man easily three times your age is using a wooden skewer to turn hodu-gwaja in their mould.

As far as you're concerned, it's not a road trip (no matter how short the distance) without a paper bag full of red bean-filled, walnut-shaped bread. Jeongguk always seems to go for the saltier snacks when you're together, though, so you head inside first. Scope out the options. Spot a small stall frying tornado potatoes and trust your intuition when it compels you to pick up one for Jeongguk.

Returning to the forecourt, the skewer with a spiralled potato in one hand and your brown paper bag full of pastries in the other, you wait for him to notice you.

A hand on the nozzle of the pump, he's nearly finished filling the tank. Goosebumps are on his arms, the regret of not tossing on his coat written all over his face. The nozzle clicks, diverting Jeongguk's attention from the distant mountains he'd been gazing over towards, realigning his thoughts and focusing him in on the world around him.

Takes no more than half a second for his eyes to find you; black padded jacket keeping you warm, your smile peeking just above the top of the fastening. Hair up in a couple of space buns, your eyes are the focal point of your face, all glittery and gorgeous.

Yet it's the food he focuses on, tummy rumbling.

"For me?" He mouths in your direction.

Nodding enthusiastically, you crouch down to take a seat on the steps that lead up to the food complex as happiness blooms over his features. Jeongguk raises a fist in the air, and shakes it. Bites down on his bottom lip; closes his eyes. Silently cheers. Makes you giggle.

Across the forecourt, there's a small group of girls. Around your age, you think. Eyes on Jeongguk, they're muttering to one another; no doubt enthusing about the fact he looks like daydream in this dreary service station. Radiates gold in a town of chalk.

As he heads towards you, you can't help but think about how you'll be perceived. Know that it's incredibly easy to incorrectly judge a friendship like yours. It's a tale as old as time, how a guy and a girl can never be 'just friends'. The girls will see you and will assume you're a couple.

Your smile widens as he approaches. You hold out the tornado potato before he reaches you. It's deliberate.

It's me, you think. I'm the one he's walking towards. Not you.

A strange thought, for someone who is just a friend.

Curious, and pathetic, and a little juvenile. The gossiping continues.

They're pretty girls. Probably lovely, too. Personalities to magic their magic-perms.

You've no reason to be thinking harshly, and yet when Jeongguk is close enough to take the snack from you, and you use your now free hand to pat the ground beside you. Indicating that he should sit, you deliberately choose the side away from the girls.

"Legend," he says, chowing down without much thought. Would usually check the temperature with his hand, but has just filled his tank. Hands are probably filthy. "Ah, fuck," he hisses as he breathes in a little air to cool the red-hot potato he's already got in his mouth. "Hot."

Laughing, you apologise. 

"Sorry. The lady running the stall fried me a fresh one," you explain.

The rest of the potatoes had been sitting out for a little while, or so you had been told by the sweet lady. Her actions were benevolent; a small kindness bestowed upon a shooting star. Karma is very real, and it'd be foolish not to treat a cosmic entity with such generosity. Wise in her years, she wasn't about to let you pass her by without wishing for a little goodwill.

Jeongguk shakes his head, swallowing that first bite. "Nah, it's fine. It's good. Hit the spot," he says, then holds it over for you. "Want some?"

The answer is no - all you really want is the hodu-gwaja - but the girls are still looking at him, so you accept his offer like the petty little bitch you are. Bite straight from his stick. Rip off a little more than you intend to, and get Jeongguk laughing.

"Save me some!" He jokes, but you simply shake your head.

Cheeks rosy, you struggle to get it all down in one bite. "I paid for it."

"You're getting a free ride," he reminds you, to which you can't argue against.

Speaking of nothing much, just whatever comes to mind, the small break from the journey is welcome. You remain seated on the stairs even after you finish your food. The girls depart before you do.

"Think they were in love with me," Jeongguk says almost as soon as they leave. You choke on your pastry. "Wow, really that unbelievable, huh?"

He's just joking, but is no stranger to stares. Works in a bar. Knows that he's desired, even if he has no desire to act upon it most of the time. It's all superficial shit he doesn't care for.

"Got an ego on you today, don't you?" You laugh.

"Had a girl calling me Daddy in bed this morning," he teases you, nudging against your shoulder with his own.

"Fuck off."

"So yeah," he admits, ignoring your curse. "The ego got a good stroking."

He kinda wishes it was something else that had gotten a good stroking instead, but he's trying to behave himself. Nearly fucked things up all because he fucked you when he shouldn't have. Is trying to fix things.

"Your ego will be your downfall, Jeon," you assure him, getting to your feet, taking his empty skewer from his hand to toss everything in the bin together. "No one likes a cocky bastard."

"So why are you walking away, then?" He teases. "Can't control yourself when you're around me, huh?"

"I'm telling your mum," you warn, as Jeongguk gets to his feet also, patting down the crumbs from his thighs.

"Oh yeah?" He indulges in the flirt. "Whatcha gonna tell her?"

"That her son is acting like a little fuck boy," you assert. "She'll be disappointed."

"She'll also know it's bullshit, B," he shrugs, toying with his lip ring. He'd make the perfect fuck boy, you think, if only he was an asshole. "My brother is the one that fucks around. I've always been an angel."

"Is your brother single?" you joke.

"You can't tell me off for speaking like a tool and then expect me to set you up with one," he laughs. "Stay the fuck away from my brother."

"He's older right?" You ask, ignoring his warning.

"Right."

"I love an older man," you dreamily sigh as you head back to Jeongguk's car.

"I don't care," Jeongguk says, voice stern, but you pay it no notice as you reach his car. He was gonna open the door for you, but when you're being like this? No chance.

Instead, he tugs on your wrist to turn you around. Gets you facing him. Walks forwards, still. Stops only when your back meets the side of his car. 

He traps you in place; hands on the roof, one on either side of you. He looks down. Looks dead centre in your eyes. Looks like sin.

"You can't go around collecting up the people I care about like Pokemon cards, B," he husks. "You've already had my housemate."

"Had your housemate twice," you correct, just to wind him up a little more. He's too easy when he's like this. Easy to wind up; easy to please. All you'd have to do is say 'I won't', and he'd accept it - but where's the fun in that?

He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Lets his nose nudge up against yours.

"You can't have my best friend and my brother."

"Why not?" You whisper against his lips.

"'Cause I told you earlier, B," he whispers. "I get jealous."

"That's a ' you' problem."

"You'll destroy a family," he tells you with such conviction you believe him. He's learnt to never lie to you. His jealousy? It's as honest as it gets.

"So I can't fuck your dad either?" You tease, just because you enjoy Jeongguk showing his true colours. You might like an older man, but not so old he could be your own dad. Already know you'll have nightmares from Jeongguk making you call him Daddy that morning.

"Gonna be in my city, B," he reminds you, ignoring the threat because, honestly, the idea of it repulses him. "Ain't no way you're gonna fuck anyone that isn't me in my own goddamn hometown."

"No?"

"No," he whispers as he nudges his nose up against yours. Lets his lips brush yours. Doesn't push down. Wants to so badly. That semi of his from earlier? Yeah. It's hard, now - and he does let that press against your tummy. Lets you know that he's thinking about fucking you, then has the audacity to say, "Behave yourself."

"Fine," you smirk with casual arrogance. Jeon Jeongguk has buttons, or so it would appear. Pushing on them is just as fun as you'd imagine. "Won't fuck your dad."

"Thank you," he breathes out a small laugh. Pulls away a little to press a kiss to your nose. "My brother is out of town, anyways. Couldn't even if you wanted to."

Shrugging your shoulders, you turn to face the door, and let him linger for a moment. The parking lot is virtually empty, but this is still far too heated for such a location. The proximity of his positioning is sinful; his hardness digging into your lower back.

It's not like you didn't know this would be the case. You did it deliberately.

He deserves it, after the little stunt he pulled earlier.

Hair still up in little space buns, Jeongguk decides he needs to compliment you more often when your hair is up. Likes your neck. Or having easy access to it, at least.

His lips press a chaste kiss to the curve of your neck before he pulls away.

Watching as he gets around to the driver's side, bulge in his jeans painfully obvious, you voice a theory that you know is gonna soften him right up.

He can thank me later, you think. Doing the duty of a good friend!

"Shagged you, anyways," you hum. "You're all related so you probably have, like, identical dicks. No point in me fucking them, too."

Fingers hooked beneath his door handle, Jeongguk looks over to you, disgust written all over his face. "What is wrong with you?"

You just smile. Shrug. Pop open the car door, and get in. Call to him, "Shall we get going?"

Jeongguk thinks of the conversation you had earlier about crashing his car. Doesn't seem like such a bad idea now.

"We're turning around," he assures you. "There's no way I'm letting you meet my fucking parents."

"What was it you said?" you giggle, thinking of his stupid little insult from earlier. "That if your mum meets me, then she'll stop begging you to bring a girlfriend home? You're welcome!"

The rest of the drive is marred by stupid bickering and playful conversation. There's no need for discussions of anything hard, nor heavy. Hayun feels like a distant memory, and you're yet to reply to the message that pinged through from Seojoon as you were getting ready to leave your place.

It's just you and your best friend; an open road with the ocean on the horizon.

Jeongguk spots the sea first. Doesn't mention it, 'cause he wants to let you 'win' the unspoken game of 'first to see the sea wins'.

"Gguk!" you gasp when you do eventually see the cerulean beauty of Busan. "The sea! Look!"

Worth it, he thinks.

His parents live a little further inland, but he'd deliberately taken you further down towards the seafront just for this moment.

"Home sweet home," he muses, knocking his indicator to signal he's turning off. The streets are always so crowded down by the coast, so as much as he'd like to stay close, he knows he's already running late. His mum is probably worried. "We can come back this evening. I'll show you my old haunts."

It's a simple invitation, much like the initial invite for you to come with him. Jeongguk doesn't think too hard about things like this. Decides what he wants to do, and offers you the chance to join him.

"Please," you enthuse. "I've never been here in the evening."

"Oh, it's the best," Jeongguk smiles. "Forget our city - Busan is so much better."

It's not. His opinion is driven by nostalgia. Hasn't had a night out in Busan since before he met you. Doesn't realise how much he'd miss you, if you weren't with him.

The roads he takes become increasingly less crowded. Closer to home.

It's strange, Jeongguk thinks. He normally feels a giddy excitement whenever he reaches this part of town; an appreciation for the place he grew up. It's that classic 'coming home' sensation that bubbles in your stomach whenever you first greet your mother during the holidays - and yet Jeongguk's giddiness makes no hike. Doesn't rise like he thinks it will.

At least it doesn't until he parks up, just down the street from his parent's place, and glances over to you.

That's when it hits . 

And that's also when he knows he's absolutely fucked.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[takemealivelh]

heart is gonna flatline || l.h.

tour puts luke and lucy's feelings to the test. addiction to sex, alcohol and weed for when things get hard. SMUT.

this was so fun to write ! loved to participate in the @5sos-fic-fest this year. hope you enjoy this. here's the ao3 link.

7.1 k

FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED

Prompt Au where the characters are both famous musicians with their own projects who have a well-documented public friendship. When they announce a tour together fans go crazy, as do the shippers. As the tour progresses, maybe the shippers are on to something…

Pop-rockers 5SOS and Latina indie-rocker Lucía Huerta announce tour together Last year, there were rumors about the frontman of the Australian band -Luke Hemmings, 27- and relatively new sensation Lucía "Lucy" Huerta, 28. They'd been caught leaving West Hollywood bars together, late at night, on numerous occasions. They put the speculation to a stop when in June 2023 Lucy uploaded an Instagram story of her and the blond having a drink. She tagged Hemmings and wrote "that's the homie", to which Luke replied in his own stories "that's me :)". They've been seen hanging out repeatedly since then, but it doesn't seem any more platonic than work friends. And speaking of work friends, 5 Seconds of Summer and Huerta just announced a 2024 tour that definitely excited fans, not just because of the vibrant shows they expect to see later in the year, but also because they want to see how the relationship of the two stars will develop during the four-month North American dates. Here at Music Getaway, we'll definitely keep a close eye on them.

-

"i'm not ready to tell them yet," lucy says to his boyfriend as she leaves the coffee cup on the kitchen counter next to them. they've been dating for eight months. it's been hard to hide their relationship from the press, and luke isn't too keen on the idea. he actually hates it. but he loves lucy. he loves that she's a talented musician, her laugh, her jokes and her business smarts. and he just can't enjoy this in peace, not with being so secretive.

"you've been saying that for months now. when are you gonna be okay with this? with us?" luke doesn't get it. why hide when they go out on dates and he can finally press a hand on her ass in public to stop the thirst traps people seem to tag her on. hoping to get a chance with her? fuck no. the blond wants her all to himself, he can't deny that.

lucy twists her lips, stalling. the smell of freshly brewed breakfast coffee dancing around them. "you don't understand." she finally says, reaching a hand to touch his arm for a few seconds. the thought of being out in the open with luke would change everything. "people will treat me differently. they might not respect me anymore."

"what are you talking about?"

"luke, come on. i got my own interview with kelly clarkson and then i played the iheartradio festival." they'd been incredible opportunities. "all of my hard work goes away the minute they know we're together. they'll say oh she was fucking the rockstar and he got her those big breaks. i don't want that. i don't want people to minimize my efforts."

luke sighs and shakes his head. "is that what's more important?" lucy shrugs. "okay," he finally says.

"okay?"

"yeah. it's fine. i get it. i won't bring it up again."

lucy throws her arms around his neck. "thank you," she whispers before kissing his lips softly. "i love you."

-

luke sits with ashton outside the rehearsal room. they've been playing for nearly two hours and they need a breather, especially because luke's mind is spinning. "i don't know, man. it sucks." they hear chattering on the other side of the door, a few guitar riffs and then laughter.

"of course it sucks, mate," ashton tells his friend. "she doesn't want to be in your shadow. it really fucking sucks and you better not fuck this up for her. you know how hard she's been working." he had grown fond of lucy. she was as much of a fan of drums as he was. he taught her a few fills and she invited him to do yoga and get high, ending up talking about how the unconscious force of creativity is beyond any of us. ashton doesn't want to see her heartbroken because of her boyfriend's, his best friend's inability to trust someone who really loves him.

-

luke's insecure, there's no question about that. after his marriage fell apart, he fell into a depression. and when he got better, he found this woman in the venue of the iheartradio festival, she was wearing cool sunglasses and stevie nicks-looking clothes. hippie goth he would've dared to say. they were watching the soundcheck of another band and started talking after she took out a cigarette from her backpack and asked him for a lighter.

"sorry, no. i don't smoke."

"that's okay," she smiled. 

that was all she said before looking for -and eventually finding- a lighter in the outside pocket of her small backpack.

the man looked up at the sky, the sun shining bright and the warm air of the field. he squinted one eye and turned to her. "they sound pretty good," he said of the band that was talking onstage, between songs. she nodded her head. "do you know them?"

"not personally, no," she replied and blew smoke out in a thin line. "but i've been a fan of them for a while now. they're one of my favorite indie bands."

that got them talking, eventually introducing themselves and catching up later after each other’s set. there was chemistry and flirting. luke's band immediately caught up to what was happening, when he said he was gonna congratulate lucy and be right back. but he didn't and it took them a full while to find him, thirty minutes before they went up and played.

-

"you got a lighter?"

calum nods and lights the cigarette for her. the smoking area of the building being a small parking lot.

"thanks," she breathes out. "you out here on your own?"

the bassist nods. "it's a good place to think."

lucy smiles and rolls her eyes. “cheesy,” she says with a grin.

"where's loverboy?" he asks, a cheeky smile on his face. calum was the first one to see them kissing. it was an afterparty at his band photographer's place. he'd gone to the kitchen when everyone started leaving, eight in the morning. when he went back to the living room with a cup of coffee, he saw lucy snuggled up to luke, smiling at him. luke smiled back and leaned in to kiss her. "aren't you guys glued to the hip anymore?"

lucy chuckles, "i don't know. there's... a lot happening."

"i'm listening."

"uh... okay. so... we decided to not tell everyone yet that we're dating. Not even with the tour. and i think he's mad at me."

"why do you say that?"

"he's been more... distant. and i don't know if that's what i wanted but it feels like... payback. like, you banned us and now i'm gonna make sure you feel it type of thing."

"i'm sure it's not that."

a bitter chuckle leaves her lips. "helpful as usual, cal."

-

cincinatti, first stop of the you don't go to parties tour. lucy had laughed when they first told her the name of the tour, but she eventually grew to like it and even embrace it. it's 6 pm and her soundcheck just ended. security lets fans in for a q&a with 5sos. she walks over to her boyfriend and smiles at him, wanting to kiss him good luck, or maybe just because she loves him. but luke stops her before she can even tilt her head up to reach his lips.

"we can't now. remember?"

it leaves her heart sore. she stands still as luke enters the stage and is greeted with the cheering of the fans. the rest of the guys are already seated on the small stairs of the set. she watches him ignore her and the questions about her. michael replies to one of them by saying she's our friend and we care for her and we're pretty inspired by her work as well, so it seemed like a good idea to, like, join forces and do this tour together.

lucy hopes luke will acknowledge her at some point, but he doesn't. when they start playing talk fast for the few lucky seventy fans in the audience, she twists her lips and leaves, heading backstage.

-

he doesn't see her until she's onstage again, playing her set of amazing songs for the 16,000 people attending the show. they dance and scream the lyrics back to her. she plays her guitar and sings with her raspy grunge-style voice over the indie-pop-rock arrangements her backing band provides. his heart beats faster as she approaches the microphone and starts talking.

"and thank you to my friends in 5sos who have been kind enough to invite me to co-headline this tour. the you don't go to parties tour seemed a little odd to me at first because this is definitely a party, isn't it?" she smiles as the crowd cheers. "so thank you guys," lucy turns to the left of the stage and sees luke standing next to her guitar tech. "i really fucking love you."

-

because of technical issues, the band can't perform the whole setlist. sometimes it happens. ashton is always pissed. "they're missing the whole experience!"

"yeah, well. nothing we can do. venue told us we could do the whole hour and a half but because of the issue with the speakers, they can't last that long. you have to cut two songs."

the tour manager tries to hold this thing together as ashton and michael complain. calum offers suggestions.

"i guess we could lose um... we could lose babylon, right? just this once and... flatline maybe?" the bassist looks over at luke.

flatline is the one song they had never played live before and it’d be a surprise for the audience. especially because lucy would come onstage to sing it with them. play the rhythmic guitar while luke walks around, hyping up the crowd. they'd rehearsed it several times and she was excited about it. they both were. allegedly.

"sure," luke replies as he drinks a glass of tequila, setting it down on a table and making sure his guitar is properly tuned. "let's cut them."

michael and ashton look at each other and then at luke. the frontman shrugs and his friends tell the tour manager that they will cut babylon and flatline.

-

all of the musicians have separate rooms in the hotels. even luke and lucy. she'd insisted it'd be easier. luke hated it. and he didn't expect her to show up at his room, unannounced, with a frown on her forehead and breathing hard.

"you cut our song," she steps inside the white room with the white walls, white bed and white comforter. looking at luke, the woman crosses her arms.

"we had to," he simply states. as if he wasn't the one greenlighting the whole thing.

"you could've told me, though. i was looking stupid next to the stage, waiting for you to introduce me. and it never happened."

"is that all that matters to you? how you look in front of other people? we had to cut two songs, lucy. the surprise's gonna be even bigger in the next show. fans will appreciate that."

lucy twists her lips and walks straight past him towards the door. "you're an asshole," she says before closing it behind her.

-

the beginning of the flight to boston is awkward. the whole twelve -the bands and the crew- can sense the tension inside the plane. it stems from luke and lucy, obviously. when did everything get so uneasy?

twenty minutes into the duration of the flight, though, luke slides into the seat next to his girlfriend. she doesn't look at him.

"i should've told you."

"yeah, you should've."

her heart beats faster as he places a hand on her cheek, guiding her eyes towards his own. he looks inside the brown hues and decides he can't keep hurting her. but she hurt him first. he wants to grow up and let it go. it's proving to be harder than he thought. maturity hasn't caught up to him easily yet. "i'm sorry." she closes her eyes and luke leans in to kiss her. "i'm sorry," he repeats.

a hand on his wrist, lucy is sad. looking into his eyes makes her sad. "it's okay," she finally says.

-

"and now we've got a pretty special surprise for you," michael grins into the microphone as the whole venue screams. "it's time to invite lucy huerta back on stage!" he shouts with a smile.

luke thinks lucy looks so fucking edible in those tight pants and that see-through top. her smile is big as she waves to the audience and settles on the center of the stage, where luke usually is. he gets another microphone from one of the roadies before ashton counts to four with his hi-hat.

should've seen me like a year ago, year ago/i was someone you don't even know, even know/dark times kept me all alone, all alone/you were shining like a heart of gold, heart of gold

he steals glances at her as she smiles into the crowd that’s going wild, her acoustic guitar hanging from her shoulders. 

luke was depressed after the divorce, staying home and drinking himself to sleep. then he got his shit together (half of it at least), went to the studio and worked through his issues by writing songs. when he met lucy, luke thought she was the most wonderful person on the planet. she had the kindest heart and was an overall joy to have around. he sings the pre-chorus and is taken aback by her strong voice as she takes over the song with her playing and her singing.

ooh, i'm falling for the first time/heart is gonna flatline/now i can't even look at you/you're like staring at the sunshine, burning into my mind/now i can't even look at you

and she doesn't. she doesn't look at him as she sings, unlike rehearsals when they couldn't stop singing to each other. it breaks his heart, considering it's their song. he wrote this for her.

"thank you!" lucy shouts and then leaves the stage waving everybody goodbye.

-

after the show, luke showed up to her hotel room. the bands were out clubbing and when he heard lucy wasn’t gonna join them, he immediately took an uber back to where they were staying. 

“let me in, please,” he says after knocking on her door three times. when she finally appears, she’s wearing a towel around her body and another one around her hair. she looks tired. “can i come in?”

without saying a word, lucy steps aside and luke walks into her room. she closes the door behind her and approaches him. 

“talk to me,” he basically begs. reading her mind is like an unsolvable sudoku, the man can’t get his head around it. “I love you.”

“i love you, too,” she whispers, looking down at his messy converse sneakers. 

luke quickly grabs her face and kisses her. it’s passionate and arousing and she can feel herself melting under his touch. she knows they should actually talk about it, instead of making out and falling on the bed, her towels discarded somewhere on the floor. she can’t help it. they’re both sex addicts. lucy rips his thin black shirt open and kisses down his chest, leaving his skin wet with the droplets that run down her hair. his breathing grows heavier and his pants grow tighter in the crotch area. he closes his eyes as she trails the kisses back up to his face. “take it off,” she pleads and sits next to him. luke quickly reincorporates himself to toss his shirt, his slacks and his underwear out of the way. he’s big and pulsating and lucy swallows hard, he turns her on so much. 

when the last item of clothing hits the floor, one of his shoes, the man licks his upper lip and straddles her body, hovering over her. “you really want me, huh?” his smirk is cocky, as if he’s forgotten everything about these past few days. it’s like nothing ever happened and they’re still in their love bubble. she so desperately wants to go back to it, so she nods and wraps her arms around his neck, bringing him to her lips as she parts her legs. luke hooks an elbow on her knee and spreads her wider, watching her folds throb for him. so slick and ready. he kisses her once more before carefully dropping her leg onto the bed. “condom,” he says. “i need to fuck you now.”

lucy reaches out to the bag she keeps on the nightstand. eyeliner, pills and condoms. she hands him one and it doesn’t take long before his cock is ready. luke smirks and kisses her, lining himself against her entrance with one hand, he takes a deep breath and penetrates her.

her gasp shouldn’t come as a surprise, given that it’s the same sound every time, not at all used to having him being so big and thick yet, even after all these months. she closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as luke runs a hand through his damp curls, letting her adjust to his size. he groans as he feels her walls engulfing him. “i want you so much,” he offers a low moan and starts picking up the pace of his thrusts. bringing one of her legs over his shoulder, the man reaches a deeper spot that makes her moan out. 

“fuck,” she pants as the bed bounces underneath their bodies. luke’s strength and determination to fuck her stupid works. her eyes roll to the back and she digs her short nails into his naked back. “more,” she begs and is immediately met with a hand around her throat. “more,” her plead is inaudible as she feels like she can’t breathe from the pleasure.

luke’s pupils are dilated in a way she’s never seen before. he tightens her grip around her throat and around her leg. gulping down at the sight of his girl falling apart under him, he tries to restrain louder moans but how can he? how can he fuck her quietly when she looks and feels so fucking good? “say you’re mine,” he orders. “say you’re mine.”

-

the morning sun shines through the window and rests its light on lucy’s face. She scrunches her nose and opens her eyes. she’s lying on luke’s chest, they’re both naked. he doesn’t seem to notice her shifting. the woman looks up at him, wondering when things got so complicated. she loves him. she truly loves him. he’s the first man she’s ever loved, in a real way, not a platonic crush way. the fact that he makes her laugh and his skills when making music and also in bed are extraordinary. he’s a sensitive soul and it’s such a wonder when he lowers down the walls he builds up around people. letting them in but not all the way. not in the way he does with her. or did. “why can’t you trust me with your thoughts anymore?” lucy wonders in a soft whisper before pressing a kiss to his sternum and getting up. she goes to the bathroom and takes a shower. when she opens the door that leads to the bedroom, luke is up and scrolling through his phone. “hi,” she smiles softly. her boyfriend’s hair is a mess and there’s still sleep inside his eyes. 

“hey,” the man smiles back, putting his phone away. “flight’s at 6. you wanna do something today?”

lucy leans against the frame of the bathroom door. she crosses her arms in front of her chest and thinks for a moment while twisting her lips. “what do you have in mind?”

-

they both go down in the elevator, not touching, and it’s killing them. when they reach the hotel’s diner, they find calum and ashton sitting at one of the tables, drinking orange juice and eating bagels.

“you guys had fun last night,” calum smirks as the couple sits down with a plate of waffles and two cups of coffee.

lucy blushes and luke has to stop every inch of his urgent body to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “shut up,” they both say in unison. there’s a soft smile on their faces.

after michael drops by to have a quick breakfast and then leaves to facetime his wife and his baby daughter, the rest of them decide that it would be cool to go out and explore the city. so they do that. they go to a park and sit around, smoking and drinking warm water because of the summer heat upon them. a couple of fans stumble across them and ask for pictures. they stay for around ten minutes before leaving off to continue their day, the musicians keep on enjoying the sun and the fresh air. if you ignore calum and lucy’s cigarettes, that is.

they go to lunch at a nearby restaurant and order pasta salads. lucy looks over at luke across the table, he’s laughing at one of ashton’s jokes and she sighs almost imperceptibly, looking down at her empty plate. there’s a single ravioli and two tomato slices on it. she looks up when she feels a foot against her ankle and sees luke smiling softly at her.

they can’t help but fuck in the restaurant’s bathroom. locked into a single stall, she drops to her knees and sucks him off. luke pins her against the door and buries his head on her neck to muffle the sounds when he slides into her. she’s got a leg wrapped around his waist and she swallows hard to hush the sounds she wants to make.

when they reach back the table, they find that ashton and calum have deserted them, leaving them with the bill. “assholes,” she says and luke laughs.

-

Seen out: Luke Hemmings and Lucía Huerta have an off day in Boston

The pair walked out of the Intercontinental Hotel with Ashton Irwin (5SOS’ drummer) and Calum Hood (5SOS’ bassist). They were seen by fans at Fenway Park and they took pictures with them. Luke looks tired in the photos, but he seems happy. He wears roughed-up sneakers and a white tank top. Lucy wears short denim shorts and a black top with flowy sleeves. The fans that tagged them in the Instagram posts spoke about how nice they were and how exciting it was to meet them. Hemmings and Huerta were both seen leaving Tenderoni’s Fenway restaurant and getting into an Uber. According to inside sources, the pair haven’t been able to keep their hands off each other during this tour so far. We hope it stays that way.

-

“fuck,” lucy’s frustration about the latest hollywood gossip blog post seems to go unnoticed on the plane. but luke can tell, and he wraps an arm around her the minute they both sit down. “they know. they seem to know,” she hands him her phone so he can read the writing piece. she hates it. she hates it so much. “inside sources can suck my dick.” this statement makes luke giggle. “what’s so funny?” she asks, annoyed.

“nothing.”

-

the next cities go by in a time whirlwind. lucy’s been distant since the article and it breaks luke’s heart. she refused to hold his hand and kiss him outside hotel rooms. even concerts’ backstages.

a few months after they met, they attended a house party in santa monica. the sparks between them were something everybody noticed, but they didn’t seem to think much of it. they’re rockstars, they’re the same age, of course they’re gonna flirt. luke fucked her in the spare bedroom, door locked. she gasped when she felt his cock for the first time, knowing he’d just made her addicted to it. he’d ruined every other man for her.

“we should head back downstairs.”

“i wanna stay here with you.”

“luke.” his name was rough against her lips as she hooked her bra back on.

“alright, i’m up.”

looking back, that should’ve been a red flag for him, but he chose to ignore it. because she made him feel good and he didn’t want her to leave him for somebody else. he didn’t want to be left again. he’d loved his ex-wife, and it was hard to get over her after she cheated on him. lucy had never been in a relationship, just random hookups, a friend with benefits and two weeks of winter love. she feared intimacy and luke could tell after the second time they had sex. spend the night, he’d said. lucy shook her head and told him she needed to get up early in the morning for an interview, which was a lie.

-

by the time the first month rolls around, they’re barely talking. It’s all sex and pretending onstage. pretending to have fun, pretending that they’re not hurt. their hearts break in silence. well, sort of.

“i told you not to fuck it up.”

“she won’t let me in. she won’t talk to me about it.”

“fix it.”

-

someone just like you, no one else/lights will guide you so, run like hell

the screaming fans can’t get enough of the energy onstage. michael jumping around, calum throwing his head back to expose his neck to the crowd, ashton beasting out on the drums. luke crouches in front of the crowd with a wide smile and lucy plays guitar while she sings her heart out. the lights radiate orange and red colors on the stage, the bass resonates in their bodies and there’s so much adrenaline going on that she has a moment of weakness. she looks over at luke, who has walked over to michael’s side of the stage as he sings the second verse. he wears a silver shirt that makes his shoulders look so spectacularly broad. she looks at him a little too long and when the camera pans over to her, showing her true feelings on the giant screen, fans seem to lose it even more. luke walks back to her and sings directly into her eyes, as if he can feel his way back to his girl. finally. a sad smile appears on her face for a split second before she starts dancing while playing the post-chorus instrumental outro. her long wavy hair hides her face and no one notices a single tear rolling down her cheek. when the song ends, she pretends to be emotional about the crowd, about how much they seem to love the show. which she is very grateful for. but on the other side of the coin, she just fucked up everything for herself. her career. and it’s clear when luke approaches her with a reassuring smile and one fan screams KISS! KISS! and then the whole venue is yelling the same word over and over again. michael and calum look at each other, ashton wipes off the sweat from his forehead and when the chanting doesn’t seem to stop, he grabs his mic. 

“alright, alright. calm your asses down,” the drummer laughs and the crowd follows suit. a distraction. he starts talking about how they recorded the song and thanking lucy for putting on a fantastic show with them for the beautiful souls in the audience.

lucy twists her lips, trying not to break down in front of thousands of people. so, she just waves and quickly exits the stage. luke takes a deep breath. he wants to run after her, make sure she’s okay. but she would never forgive him for giving the fans more reasons to speculate about their relationship. 

-

lucy cries backstage, alone. she takes off her makeup and sees dark circles underneath her eyes. why the fuck is she such a mess? why can’t she be in love like a normal person?

-

the show ends and the first person to knock on her dressing room is, obviously, luke. “are you okay?” he opens the door and sees his girlfriend lying on the sofa, sleeping. her makeup’s off and he can better appreciate the freckles on her nose that she gets in the summer. he stays with her, sitting on the chair in front of the mirror. the man looks at her as she wrinkles her nose in her sleep. he loves her so much. but what if this it? what if this is the end for them? 

michael opens the door, “what’s going on? is she okay?”

“she’s okay,” luke smiles weakly. “she’s sleeping.” 

lucy holds a pillow to her chest. she’s covered by luke’s jacket. michael decides he should probably leave them alone. “good luck, man,” he says as he pats luke’s shoulder, then he leaves the door closed after stepping back out.

luke could really use a joint right now. all these thoughts and feelings. wondering what she may be dreaming. or what she does with her days when they’re not together. he hates being so possessive, it makes him feel like a child. but how can you blame him?

“good luck with what?” lucy’s yawn startles him. she rubs one eye open.

michael meant well, but he also wanted to protect luke from heartbreak. lucy’s given him that for months now. all the guys -at least in the bands- knew lucy has a bit of… issues. she believes in things to be too black or white, good or bad, yes or no. no space for grey areas in her life. and that’s frustrating to deal with, but luke had fallen in love because she was so intense and so hardheaded when it came to defending her values. He admired that about her. “I honestly have no idea,” he lies behind a chuckle, playing it off as usual band nonsense. “do you wanna go back to the hotel and sleep?”

she’s too tired to get into an argument about taking separate cars, so she just nods. “Yeah.”

-

when they get to the hotel room, luke tucks her in and pours her a glass of water that he leaves on her nightstand. he looks for ibuprofen in her small bag with pills and condoms and sets two next to the water. 

“i’m sorry for being such a bitch to you,” lucy says with her eyes closed, lying on her side. 

she looks so out of it. as if she’d just drank an entire bottle of vodka and then smoked weed. he feels bad. he never meant for her to feel like this when they got into a relationship. but touring always makes things hard. especially if you’re playing shows every night with the person you love. the man sighs and sits next to her. “don’t worry about me. get some sleep,” he whispers and kisses her temple.

before he can stand up, lucy grabs his arm. “can you stay with me? please.”

a soft smile sets on his lips. “of course.”

-

after landing in the next city, lucy calls her mom.

-

there are three knocks on his hotel room door. “luke?” her voice is soft. as if she’s embarrassed. she doesn’t want her mother’s words to haunt her. the man opens the door without his shirt. just sweatpants. he was probably gonna go to bed. she might as well ruin his night too. 

“hey.” there’s a small pause. “what’s up?” he steps aside so she can come in. the tv’s on in the background and there’s a tray with an empty plate and a glass of tequila, just resting on his nightstand. 

lucy nods her head and walks inside. “i wanna talk.”

“okay…”

“about us.”

-

Love Is All Around: It’s Insta-Official

Two months ago, the You Don’t Go To Parties Tour hit the stage. And last night, Lucía Huerta and Luke Hemmings provided some much-needed proof of their romance. “Ten months with you feel like a second. Magic. I love you.”

-

lucy sighs as she reads the article.

“are you okay?” luke asks her.

“yeah,” she replies. “just… scared, i guess.”

“it’s gonna be okay, love,” he kisses the top of her head and sits next to her on the sofa. “everything’s gonna be alright.” the dressing room is big and no one else is around. it’s noon.

tons of notifications have been hitting their phones for the past fourteen hours. some are mean comments, others are encouraging words from fans. either way, it makes lucy anxious. “do you wanna get high?” she asks her boyfriend. maybe weed isn’t the solution to every problem ever, but it helps. 

the man smiles. “sure,” he says.

they go to the private parking lot of the venue. luke rolls a joint while lucy smokes a cigarette. she flicks the ashes onto the concrete, fidgeting her fingers around the cancer stick. luke isn’t the biggest fan of her smoking. and she's been smoking more as the days go by. but he understands she’s going through a lot, so he says nothing. he gets a text from calum, wondering where he and his girlfriend are. we’re gonna have lunch, join us? but the blond dismisses the message and lights the joint. he takes two hits before handing it to lucy. she brings it immediately to her lips, the slightly spicy smoke going down her throat smoothly. 

it’s so easy to talk to each other. sometimes. but their words have been stunted lately. they don’t know what the other’s thinking. and yes, last night they had a good conversation. but now what? does everything go back to normal now? how? they both feel anxious around each other, and that’s never ever happened before. they both hate it.

“what do you…”

“do you ever…”

they open their mouths simultaneously, quickly chuckling at the awkwardness of their interaction. lucy nods her head, letting him know that he can finish his thought.

luke smiles. “i was gonna ask you if you ever feel like… like things are going so good between us and suddenly we get so quiet and you worry? is that… is that something you feel?”

lucy smiles back. “yeah,” she says. “i don’t really know how to explain it. i mean, i love you. you know i really fucking love you, luke. but sometimes i worry we get too inside our heads. because i think we’re really similar like that. and i… i wanna be someone you can count on…”

“i want that too,” he replies. she hands him back the joint and he smokes some more.

“and sometimes i worry i’m not that someone you deserve,” she finally confesses.

it makes him sad to hear her say that, because there’s no better person for him than her. no one has made him feel this way before. the ups and downs seem to be heightened and it’s a beautiful way to live, he doesn’t want anyone else. there’s only room in his heart for this woman. this is the hardest he’s ever fallen in love, and he can’t imagine his life without her. a bit dramatic, but hey, that’s just who he is. “i don’t deserve anyone, lucy. i just want to be with you,” he says and takes her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “all the time. every single fucking day.”

the woman looks down at their hands. matching red nail polish and silver-colored rings. this is scary. it’s scary to love and need someone so much that you feel like you’d die if they ever left you. please, don’t leave me. ever. lucy sighs and squeezes his hand in hers. “right back at ya,” she smiles softly and looks up to find his baby blues staring at her with so much love in them that she can’t help the weakness she feels in her knees.

the silence is barely uncomfortable anymore. unlike the ones they’ve been experiencing for countless weeks now. it’s all out in the open. their love for each other burning brighter than ever. neither want this moment to end. and since there’s only one way to stop time, they lean into each other and kiss. it’s soft at first, like a goodnight kiss. and it escalates quickly to an i-never-wanna-be-without-you one. she grabs fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him closer to her body. luke places both hands on her face as his tongue traces her bottom lip. their eyes are red and their hunger is raw.

-

they can’t get to his hotel room fast enough. fuck having lunch with friends, they need to satiate this urge so they can go on for the rest of the day. “i want you so bad,” she whines against his throat, leaving wet and sloppy kisses along his jawline. he’s already big and leaking with precum, grinding his hips against hers. unhooking her bra, luke immediately buries his head between her breasts and she whines again. those beautiful sounds he can’t get enough of.

“ride me, babe. i wanna see these titties bounce,” he whispers against her skin. hands gripping her hips. bulge so hard he feels like he’s gonna explode. they’re naked and he already has a condom wrapping his shaft. lucy bites her lower lip and lines him against her slit. he’s throbbing in her hand and that drives her insane. the moan he drags out as she strokes him is paradise. The filthiest love they’ve ever experienced. Both always wanting to fuck each other. It’s her waist, it’s his broad shoulders. The way they move on stage, wanting to look sexy for the other. 

lucy sinks into his cock and lets out a whine, “fuuck.” his thick size feels so good. luke grabs her ass and spreads her cheeks open so he can penetrate her better. 

“you like that?”

“yes.” her mouth hangs open and her eyes roll to the back of her head. luke has always thought of her as his pretty little pornstar. even before they started dating, the way she danced with him at the club. her back pressed to his body as his hands rested on her hips and stomach. both sweaty and a bit embarrassed when they went back to the booth with their friends. 

the woman, as per requested, starts bouncing on his cock. titties moving up and down. “fuck, girl.”

-

“is it better to feel this or feel nothing at all?”

ever since the news got out about their relationship, lucy’s been a mess. interviewers can be assholes. they suddenly stopped asking about her music, her achievements. all they wanted to know about was her clothes and her boyfriend. like everything she worked for just disappeared in the blink of an eye.

she lays on her side on the hotel bed after playing a festival in latin america. luke spoons her, holding her close to his body. he doesn’t know what to say. he’s surprised by the outcome. hadn’t expected people to diminish her work, to ignore she just played the 6 pm slot, which is a hard spot to get. you need a lot of people to stay for the whole set. and she’d killed it. 

“i don’t understand what happened,” luke sighs against her neck and squeezes her tighter. “i’m really sorry.”

lucy closes her eyes, feeling a bit less anxious with him. “it’s okay. the industry’s fucked up.”

“yeah,” he chuckles weakly. “it is.”

-

“so it’s true? you and luke are engaged?”

the questions about her relationship don’t seem to cease. even a year later. they go together to events and people seem to be more excited about them together than their work. it’s annoying, but what are you gonna do? “yeah, we are,” lucy smiles. “we’re also dropping a new song together next month.”

“ooh, tell us about it.”

lucy has become good at deflecting. luke taught her that. 

-

“how was the interview?” luke asks after he greets his fianceé with a kiss and hands her a cup of coffee from her favorite shop.

“it was alright,” lucy shrugs. it’s definitely been a learning experience, dodging questions about her personal life. but luke has been so supportive and sweet throughout the whole thing. she’s grateful to marry her man in six months. “how was the recording session?” she asks as she sips the hot beverage.

the blond had written things throughout the tour. enough things to make an ep. “it was good,” he smiles softly.

-

the song luke and lucy release is a hit. a 90s-inspired track with her raspy vocals and his whiny ones make for an interesting texture that captures hearts everywhere. they play it on several shows, the crowds go insane every time.

a month later, lucy releases her second album. it's a hit. she's invited to play festivals and there are rumors of a grammy nomination.

"here's to my girl," luke smiles as he raises a glass of wine in front of her and their friends. "she showed the world she's a powerhouse, an amazing songwriter and performer. she's the best thing that's ever happened to me and i'm so proud of you." his gaze sets on lucy, who's blushing like crazy and smiling like an idiot. "i really fucking love you."

"right back at ya," the woman grins and stands up from the table to kiss her man. everyone cheers.

the night goes by fast. the celebration turns into a party in luke and lucy's new place in west hollywood. but the couple soon disappears into their shared bedroom. fucking until the sun comes up and their friends leave.

luke pants as his orgasm washes over him. "fuck," he breathes out, collapsing next to her on their bed.

"yeah," lucy chuckles. her body is sweaty and she wraps an arm around his torso as she snuggles up to him. looking up at his face, the man's glistening. he's the most beautiful man. he's got the biggest heart and he's never been jealous or threatened by her successes. she appreciates that. "wanna eat me out?" lucy smirks, her leg now over his, her wet pussy making contact with his thigh and she grinds into him.

"give me a second," luke lets out a soft laugh. "you really wore me out. my pretty slutty angel." he strokes her hair, hand soon trailing down to her ass. a small slap to it that makes her bite down on her lip. "okay, come on. legs spread, i'm diving in," he grins.

she does what she's told. opening her legs so luke can attach his lips to her swollen clit and start licking her folds. so sloppy. so fucking nasty. lucy groans as her breath hitches. "you're so good."

he smirks against her entrance before exploring her walls with his tongue. so fucking skilled.

-

grammy nominations announcement. luke and lucy's song gets one for song of the year. her album gets one for album of the year. they're ecstatic. it's all happening.