#i'll still share your stuff if you tag me

[explainslowly]

I'll admit a lot about this conversation is weirding me out personally, but I am interested in approaching the call for comments and attention as like, call for connection - I think that's probably true for a lot of people who struggle with this stuff. Fandom is just much more fun if you find a group of like-minded sickos who share your approach to the material. And not having that feels lonely.

But like, there is a reason people keep this engagement to discords. Social media is not a friendly place - and while tumblr is firmly in it's twilight years, rawdogging tags and such is still a great way to piss yourself off or attract assholes. Not even speaking of social media that's much more open and vast - from what I've seen on Twitter, becoming the latest lolcow takes a literal single post to take off and land in front of the wrong kind of people.

So people do part of their fandom engagement in more private spaces. How is this new? I'll admit I skipped LJ in my fandom engagement, but it's not like forums were being indexed by google. Most I've ever been on only showed you posts when logged in. I used to be in places that were invite only. And plenty of old internet was deeply ephemeral. Unless people were saving logs or screenshotting, it's not like you could easily find discussion that happened on IRC or 4chan. That stuff came and went.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic.

Why?? Don't get me wrong, again, I have skipped LJ but like, weren't there friendslocked posts and discussions? Don't tell me you were all blasting every single opinion about a work right into the authors ears? It's very strange to me when we treat private discussion of your work in some discord (where people are linking the fic, because how else would they discuss it) the same as when someone exploits your writing for tiktok views without permition or linkback.

feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

[revenancy]

REVENANCY || redux.

→ chandler ray (C.R.) + 28, maybe. honestly i forget my own age sometimes and have to do the math to figure it out. i was definitely telling people i was 28 by accident for a solid year before it was true.

→ queer. neurodivergent. agender guy, but in the sort of way where it intersects with my neurodivergence. i curse a lot.

→ ve/vis/ver + he/him. any pronouns are acceptable, but these are the ones i prefer.

→ prolific ideator. trying to be a prolific writer. i've got a few first drafts down and in the middle of trying to rewrite and revise those, i find myself continuously enamored by new worlds and new ways to showcase them.

→ sometimes i write stories where good things happen.

→ sometimes i write stories where good things get ruined. i still love happy endings, but i find myself typically leaning bittersweet with homesickness, nostalgia for a simpler time that may or may not have ever really existed. was there ever another ending? or was this always the way things were going to turn out?

→ i follow back, and i try to keep up with ask games and tag games. i'll reblog pretty much any of your work if you tag me. my life went to shit last year so i unfortunately dropped off the face of the earth but things are better now. i'm still neurodivergent and hold down a full-time job so if i don't get back to you, hit me up.

→ love y'all. have fun. ♥

[zillychu]

woke up from a dead sleep last night realizing I could make soroku flavored pitch pearl and no one could stop me

edit: you know what? I'm feral and I won't apologize. more under the cut bc this is my house

I slammed this out all at once so I apologize for the quality but I'm having EMOTIONS

so imagine. bc of the way Danny was quickly resuscitated, his ghost only barely started forming. With the excess blast of ectoplasm from the portal being created, that little whisp was given form even after Danny's soul returned to his body.

except this ghost (Phantom) slowly comes into consciousness while trapped in Danny's body. they're separate entities sharing one body, but Phantom doesn't really have a sense of self right away. he pieces together vague fragments of Danny's memory to get a basic understanding of the world, and is mostly just observing like a backseat passenger.

Phantom starts reflexively protecting Danny, his powers and instincts bleeding through when his emotions are high. Danny doesn't really transform, and his personality doesn't totally shift that much at first because Phantom’s mind isn't complex yet. but as time goes on, and Danny has tense conversations with ghosts, Phantom realizes that's what he is. he's a ghost, somehow trapped in his old body. and even now, this early on, he already feels separate. he doesn't have all the memories Danny has.

this slowly turns into horror. into rage. sorrow, mourning a life he never got and will never get to have. forever trapped behind the eyes of someone else, never able to interact with the world. Phantom's rage eventually boils over until it allows him short bursts of taking over Danny's body. it starts out small–a stray hand moving without his consent, knees locking up, ghost abilities going awry. Danny can start feeling emotions that don't belong to him. get vague impressions, almost hears a voice inside him.

and eventually, Phantom is able to fully take over. this is when Danny “transforms". at first, Danny blacks out because his consciousness isn't used to being shoved into the back seat. but eventually, he's awake for these “episodes", trapped in the back of his mind while Phantom controls his body. this only happens when ghost stuff is happening, when Phantom feels threatened enough. he's not protecting Danny, he's protecting himself. Phantom knows instinctively that if Danny dies, he dies too. he's not a normal ghost, he wouldn't be freed. he'd simply disappear.

at one point after a fight, Phantom can feel Danny struggling to take back control. and he talks to Danny for the first time, acknowledges he's there. asks how it's fair that Danny is the one that gets to exist. but Phantom is tired and weak, he slips back into the passenger seat.

over the next few days, he's able to start talking to Danny even while he's not driving. though he's not chatty, it's only when necessary. and Danny knows, can feel it across the link between them–Phantom hates him. the ghost he created is desperate to find a way to take over completely. and as time goes on, Danny realizes with horror that it might actually be possible for Phantom to do that. he grows stronger every day, can stay transformed longer, controls Danny's body with much more ease.

it's only through a chance meeting with Frostbite that Danny and Phantom fully learn what happened to them. Danny feels sympathetic towards Phantom now. this isn't a malevolent ghost, it's a person who was never given the chance to live. who's trapped. who has to watch someone else live a life they're just as deserving of.

and Phantom feels that emotion from Danny. is so shocked by it, he doesn't know how to handle it at first. it takes him a while to contemplate, to talk to other ghosts like Frostbite. until one day, Phantom realizes… he feels sympathy for Danny, too.

neither of them asked for this. both of them deserve to live. Danny didn't do anything wrong. they're both villains to each other's story. and if anything… doesn't Phantom owe his life to Danny in the first place?

Phantom takes over less often. Danny doesn't feel hatred from him anymore. anger, yes–but not aimed at him. in fact, Phantom starts controlling their body in little ways in order to protect Danny from things that aren't even dangerous. just to avoid pain that would only affect the human tethered to him.

it isn't long before they're separated, either thanks to another ghost or Danny's parents. they're thrown apart in the middle of a horrific fight, and when Danny sees Phantom's equally shocked expression, he's terrified.

this ghost that hated him for so long–at best, Phantom would leave him defenseless. at worst, surely some part of Phantom still wants to kill him for stealing away his chance for autonomy.

and yet, when fire rains down on them, Phantom risks it all to grab Danny and get them both to safety. they're still both shaken and stunned this is even happening, but Phantom is able to nervously be like shit shit shit okay stay here don't go anywhere or I can't protect you, okay?

after the fight is over and dust settles, Phantom offers Danny his hand. they stare at each other and god if this isn't the weirdest thing. like, uh, okay, what now? they decide to go see Frostbite, who confirms that they're fully separate now. they ask if there's any chance of merging again and Frostbite assures it's impossible.

Phantom asks, even if I overshadowed Danny? or stay real close? yes, it's nothing to worry about. they leave, and back in the quiet of Danny's room, they talk. Phantom isn't sure what to do. now that opportunity is in front of him, he feels paralyzed. Danny does his best to let Phantom know that… they might be separate now, but if he ever wants help or even just a friendly ear, he's here for him.

Phantom is quiet for a while. then says maybe he just needs to rest first. he'll think about it tomorrow. they're both exhausted and injured. Phantom asks quietly… if he could rest in Danny for the night.

Danny's shocked, and–really confused. Phantom blushes and is like I don't know what my haunt is yet, I don't know where to go, but I know… you're kind of my home. now that I know I can leave whenever I want, it's not something bad anymore. I miss feeling your heart next to my core, just a little bit.

and Danny is just as surprised when Phantom overshadows him, then quietly nestles into the passenger seat again. he didn't realize how he got used to feeling Phantom with him. it's a feedback loop of contentedness, and Danny sleeps easily. (they also find out while sharing a body, Danny gets to reap the benefits of Phantom's supernatural healing)

anyway that's all I got for now thank u for coming to my ted talk

[sportsthoughts]

.

[fiepige]

Hey I just wanted to let you know that your comments on crying wolf have done SO MUCH for me over the past weeks. Seriously I go back and reread them at least once a day and they're such a delight every time. I oftentimes feel like my writing is subpar and not up to scratch when compared to other authors (terrible habit, I know, but one that's hard to kick) and your comments reassure me that at least I'm doing something right! I've also never attempted anything like crying wolf before - I never really got into writing action or violence but I'm being self-indulgent right now anyway because I figured if I enjoyed reading and watching it then I should have a crack at making some for myself. And as with most things, it takes a while to really get the hang of it (and I'm bad at accepting that I might be bad at something).

This is just a really long-winded way of saying thank you for your comments. Readers like you really encourage and motivate us to keep chugging along <3

(This is candyfloss-esophagus btw. If you hadn't realised by now lol)

Hey thank you so much for sending this message! I'm honestly just sitting here like:

Your writing is amazing and it makes me so happy to hear that my comments mean so much to you! Idk how to explain it but reading your fic just makes me feel so many great emotions!

I've been thinking about chapter 3 all day and I get this great bubbly feeling in my chest whenever I think about it? Idk how to describe it, but it just makes me feel incedibly good whenever I think about it? Does that make sense? Probably not but I don't know how else to articulate it ^^'

(Also that last line hits me so hard every time! I'm stil NOT over it!!!)

Like Idk I haven't read a lot of fics that had such a big impact on me emotionally (in a good way!) so I really want to do what I can to support you in return!

(Seriously I love how you write, your way with words is so creative and it really sets the scenes so well! Like I can just FEEL the tone of the scenes when I read them)

[rae-writes]

Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?

threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)

Obvious parings

Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you

"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."

"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"

"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"

"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."

"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."

Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind

"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"

"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."

"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."

"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."

"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."

Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral

"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"

"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."

"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"

"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."

"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."

Not-so-common pairings

Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one, head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat

"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"

"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."

"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"

"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."

"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"

Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off

"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."

""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"

"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"

"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."

"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."

Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you

"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"

"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."

"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."

"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."

"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."

Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other

"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"

"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."

"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."

"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"

"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."

Other good mentions

Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)

"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."

"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"

"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"

"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."

"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."

Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral

"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."

"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."

"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"

"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"

"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"

Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them

"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."

"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"

"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."

"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"

"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."

[junkissed]

goodnight n go

★ | member — fwb!vernon x f reader ★ | genre — smut, angst, non-idol au, happy ending, fwb to lovers ★ | word count — 10.2k

★ | synopsis — you keep coming back for more, but every night ends the same. maybe this time things will be different.

★ | warnings — guitarist!vernon, rock band!hhu, mentions of alcohol, vernon has commitment issues (but he gets over it) ★ | smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, consensual drunk sex, car sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering, piv, making out, multiple orgasms, pussy drunk vernon (he's down baddd), some aftercare ★ | notes — thanks to @onlymingyus for always being the best and to @wonustars for proofreading !! i did not intend for this fic to be this long but i'm actually really proud of how it turned out so i hope you like it!! also i often make playlists for my fics but i never share them, but i've been listening to this one for months while i've been writing this fic so i'll link it so you can listen too. if you enjoy this fic, please reblog and let me know in the tags!! reblogs are super important to tumblr and they help motivate me to keep writing more like this :)

check out the playlist! featuring — goodnight n go - ariana grande ; black eye - vernon ; uh oh - tate mcrae ; sunset - caroline polachek ; romanticise this - james marriott ; entertainer - zayn ; & more

“hey, you wanna get drinks tonight?”

as usual, that’s how it starts.

you probably should have said no. you’d played this game before. you knew exactly what hansol meant when he offered to hang out after band practice, because it was never just “hanging out”.

you don’t even know why you still go to practices anymore. for a long time you’d avoided them; it wasn’t really your style, and you were never interested in being a groupie for their local gigs. your roommate seungcheol always invited you to every practice and every time you declined with the excuse of homework or other plans, but cheol finally convinced you to come just one time.

at first, it had been because he wanted you to hear a new song they were working on and he’d wanted to know how you liked it before they played it at an upcoming show. but then he’d introduced you to the rest of his bandmates, and after that there was no going back.

you couldn’t help the way your eyes always gravitated towards hansol, who insisted that you call him his real name instead of his stage name that everyone else called him. from the very first practice, you were captivated by him: the way his long fingers seem to dance along the neck of his guitar so effortlessly, the way his voice rasps when he sings, the way your breath catches in your throat when he grips the microphone stand and rolls his head back, lips parted in ecstasy.

he’s addictive, and it’s exactly the reason why you find yourself in the backseat of his car over and over again.

every time, it was easy to pretend that things would be different. you’d walk into the bar together and sit at the table in the back, order a few drinks, chat for a while about nothing. did you like the new stuff we played tonight? yeah, i know cheol is really excited to perform it saturday. you been doing any writing lately? mmm, a little. i’ve been feeling inspired. we could go back to my place and i could show you. except he never does.

hansol wasn’t a bad guy. he always paid for your drinks no matter how many times you offered to pick up the tab, he was polite, he listened to what you had to say. he just didn’t want more than that, and that’s where it all fell apart. you’d screw around for a while, then you’d part ways and wouldn’t speak to each other until next week. you never went to see them play shows, he never texted, you never called, never went on a real date besides meeting in the same bar down the street every thursday night after practice.

he seemed fine with that. you weren’t. and yet every time, you ended up back in his arms.

he groans into your mouth, pushing his hips into you and pinning you harder against the faded leather seats of his old honda. his lips are sloppy but eager, messily pressing his mouth into yours as his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of your neck. you can taste the beer and smoke on his breath, but for some reason it doesn’t bother you. maybe you’re used to it, or maybe it’s just because it’s him. you don’t want to know which reason is the truth.

he kisses you until you’re dizzy, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or from the thrill of kissing him once again. it’s a high you’re convinced you’ll never get tired of, although you’re not quite sure yet if it’s one that he will.

hansol always lets you set the pace, but tonight he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself. both of your shirts met the floor of his car what seems like hours ago, leaving you in just your bra and pants as he makes out with you as if it’s the first and last time he’ll get that chance. his fingers breeze over your waist the same way they breeze over his guitar strings when he plays: careful yet greedy, each touch intentional yet impulsive as he grips your waist.

he drags his fingers higher and it sends a shiver down your spine, arching your hips up against him and rolling your head back against the seat’s headrest. if there’s only one upside to this relationship, it’s that he’s good at this. really good. if he weren’t, then you wouldn’t have spent so many nights letting him fuck you in the parking lot of your shitty local bar. it does something for your confidence knowing that he must feel the same about you, or else he wouldn’t keep inviting you out. at the very least, this arrangement is mutual, even if you wish it wasn’t.

his hips rock against your crotch again, and even through both of your clothes you can feel how hard he is. your mind is clouded, everything’s a haze, and all you can think about is how badly you want him. the warmth of his skin, the gentle scratch of his nails on the back of your neck, his long eyelashes that flutter against your cheek as he kisses you.

you feel your hands slide haphazardly down his bare chest, fumbling over his hips as you tug on the waistband of his jeans. none of it feels graceful, not like the way he handles his music. it’s sloppy, desperate, clumsy, and it’s everything you need right now.

he manages to lean back from you enough to undo his pants and push them down to his knees, but his mouth is back on yours in an instant. somehow you end up on your back across the seats, gazing up at him with slack lips as his thin silver chain dangles over your face. you might not remember a lot of what happens on these nights when you’re with him, but you’ll always remember this moment. him hovering above you with heavily lidded eyes, biting his lip and cursing as he pushes into you, is etched into your mind in a way you simultaneously love and hate. love because it feels so good, hate because it never lasts.

the last half of those nights never stands out in your memory. you remember feeling good, you remember trembling in his arms and gasping and moaning and crying in pleasure, but the images are too fuzzy to make out. you don’t really need to reflect on them anyway; you know he’ll just bring you out next week and do it all over again.

hansol kisses you once more after you’re both finally spent, but the kisses afterwards are always different. more… hesitant, more uncertain. none of the passion and desperation that you’ve come to crave from him. not what you really want.

“i can drive you home,” he offers once he’s finished cleaning you up. for once you think he might genuinely mean it, but you can never be sure enough to take that chance. you want him to drive you home. god, you want him to so bad. to have him come over with you and stay the night, stay another night and another until your apartment isn’t just yours anymore, that’s what you’ve wanted all this time. and it’s what you’ll never have.

“i’ll call an uber,” you answer.

“i’ll wait with you, then.”

the silence that settles over his car is heavy as you climb back into the front passenger seat. you want to tell him to get in the uber with you, stay more than just a couple hours with you in the furthest back corner of the bar parking lot that’s too far to be illuminated by streetlights. you want to argue that he’s too drunk even to drive himself, that he needs to come home with you and sleep it off together in the comfort of your bed, but you know it’s not true and it won’t work. this is a conversation you’ve had many times before. every night you’ve spent with him blurs into the next, always the same. 

sometimes you want to laugh at how naive you are, for thinking he’d eventually come to his senses and realize there’s more to you than a good lay before a gig. sometimes you want to grab him and shake him by the shoulders and tell him to grow the fuck up, give him an ultimatum and make him tell you what he wants from you or else put an end to it all. sometimes you just want to cry, to mourn your wasted time when you’re fully aware it’s never going to lead to something more, no matter how badly you want it and how hard you try.

no matter how many times you get your hopes up, no matter how many times you pray and beg and plead with god and the universe and every other higher power to get him to realize this can’t keep going on the way it is forever, nothing ever changes. you’re never going to stop running to him when he calls, and he’s never going to stop calling.

finally another car pulls into the lot, and you manage to pull yourself out of his car. you hear your name behind you and you stumble, swaying on your feet as he rolls down his window.

maybe this time will be different.

he says his usual goodbyes and goodnights, flashing you a loose grin and a wave as his engine sputters to life, and he asks if you’re planning on coming to practice next week. 

and you find yourself nodding.

you’re left standing there, your head and your heart pounding, watching his headlights fade as he drives away, until you’ve stood there for so long that your ride starts honking and calling for you to get in the car so you can leave.

maybe next time will be different.

this is going to be the last time, you swear.

you exhale as you stand inside the lobby of the venue, repeating the words to yourself. there’s a chill in the air tonight. the wind blows smoke in your direction from the couple standing by the door, abandoned cigarettes clutched between their fingers as they make out sloppily.

you grimace and turn away, studying the faded graffiti and half-ripped posters and advertisements that litter the walls around you. you mean it this time, seriously. the only reason you came tonight was because it’s the last time. a goodbye, of sorts.

you have to admit, you were a little shocked when hansol texted you after your weekly meet-up after practice. not only did he want to make sure you got home safe after you left, but he’d asked if you’d come to their next performance.

you stare down at your phone in your hand, rereading the texts for what feels like the thousandth time in the past few days just to make sure you haven’t imagined them. but no, there they are, bright pixels staring right back up at you from the screen.

hansol: hey just wanted to make sure you made it back home

hansol: btw we’re playing at the phoenix on saturday and i was wondering if you had plans? i wanna see you

hansol: maybe we could get dinner after or somethin if youre down idk

hansol: hoping youll be there

you’d been tempted to refuse him, out of bitterness or resentment or something else, but you can’t say you weren’t shocked by his offer. he’d suggested every once in a while that you should come see them play sometime, but it was always clear to both of you that it was out of small talk rather than genuine interest in you being there. but this time he’d said he wanted you there.

it was nice to feel wanted, for once. maybe you hadn’t been going crazy. maybe things really were different this time.

you glance at your phone once more to check the time before you slip it into your pocket, taking a deep breath as you walk through the second set of doors into the main room. you can hear the deep sound of wonwoo’s drums warming up, but the stage is obscured behind a ratty set of faded red curtains.

there’s still a few minutes before their set, but the room is already crowded with people so you push your way to the side wall near the back. you don’t really want anyone to see you here, anyway. you don’t want anyone to see that your resolve is paper-thin when it comes to hansol.

you hadn’t told him that you were coming tonight, just sending him a vague response and telling him you’d have to see if your schedule is free. even that felt too generous, after the anguish he’s put you through the past few weeks. he doesn’t need to know that you’re here, just like he doesn’t need to know the real reason you’ve been avoiding ever coming to see him play. and it’s not because you always have other plans.

you’re hoping to just watch the performance quietly from the back, then sneak out without ever having to talk to him, and text him later that you’d enjoyed it. you already knew you were going to enjoy it. you’d heard every original song, cover, and riff they’d ever played together, and at this point you could probably recite their setlist by heart. anyone could see that they were talented together, so it isn’t surprising that the venue is packed tonight. honestly, it’d be for the better if you got lost in the crowd and never saw him face to face.

the house lights suddenly fade into darkness and the crowd starts to quiet, the curtains finally pulling back to reveal the band. seungcheol stands in front of a microphone in the center of the stage, with wonwoo in the back at his drum set and mingyu to his left holding a bass guitar. and then, of course, there’s hansol.

you hate the way your gaze immediately lands on him, standing in the same position he always does, with his guitar slung around his neck by a thick red strap. the crowd starts cheering, and distantly you recognize seungcheol’s voice introducing the group, but you can’t make out any of his words.

your mind flashes back to all the nights you’ve spent sitting on a folding chair in mingyu’s garage, watching them laugh and bicker and fool around. it’s different seeing them actually on a stage for once, the metal of their instruments glinting under the harsh, colorful stage lights.

it’s not a large stage by any means, just a few feet higher than the ground and barely wide enough for all four of them to fit. but their presence is captivating, and it makes the dingy local theater seem more special than it really is. but then again, hansol makes everything seem more special than it really is.

seungcheol finishes speaking and the crowd around you lets out whoops and cheers, but you stay silent. your eyes are still stuck on hansol, watching him scan the crowd as he twists the tuning pegs on his guitar.

even from the back of the room, you can tell he’s nervous. his fingers shake just a little, in a way you know they never do because you’ve watched him tune his guitar a thousand times under the dim interior lights in his car. you watch his eyes dart around the room, squinting to see into the crowd before turning his attention back to the fretboard in his hands.

he’s not the most outgoing guy in the world, but at the same time you know he’s not the kind of person to get stage fright. something is different this time. or, maybe it’s not. you’ve never actually seen him play in front of an audience. you don’t know him as well as you think you do, you have to constantly remind yourself every time your mind starts to wander and you let yourself daydream. after all, he doesn’t know anything about you, and he doesn’t seem to care enough to learn. neither should you.

the band opens with a song you’ve heard a thousand times, then another and another, pausing after every few songs to talk to the crowd. time seems to fly by around you, but everything moves in slow motion when you're looking at hansol. you study the way his hair falls in soft brown waves around his face, his head bobbing to the rhythm as he strums his guitar. it's one thing you've always enjoyed about watching him play; he always gets so lost in the music, and it's fascinating to watch. it's clearly on the list of things he's passionate about, and even if you aren't one of those things, at least you get to see him doing something he loves. 

you shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. you can't let yourself think like that. you're here to end things, not to reminisce. you shouldn't care if he likes music or not, that's not your problem anymore. he's not your problem anymore.

you zone out for a while, trying hard not to think about him but he's the only thing you can focus on. your eyes wander every once in a while, when you hear cheol's raspy voice in the mic or a particularly cool guitar riff from mingyu, but they always end up back at hansol.

they finish playing what you know is their last song, but the crowd is still bursting with electricity. it’s not long before everyone starts to chant, begging for one more song.

“encore?” seungcheol laughs into the mic, and flashes one of his signature dazzling smiles that sends the group of girls standing in front of you into hysterics. he glances over at hansol and nods. “mmm, yeah. i think we can do one more.”

you fold your arms over your chest. now is probably your best chance to leave. it’s not a very big venue, but from the amount of people here it’s obvious that there’ll be chaos once things are over as people start to file out. though most of them will probably be trying to fight their way to the front instead, giving wonwoo their phone numbers written on stained cocktail napkins and asking mingyu to sign their tits. but just as you’re about to start pushing your way back towards the exit, cheol’s deep voice makes you pause.

“we’re gonna play something real special tonight,” he says, making eye contact with hansol again. “something brand new, that we’ve never performed before. you guys wanna be the first to hear it?”

the room erupts into cheers again, and cheol grins. “yeah, i figured. so, i’m gonna let vernon explain this one. take it away, man.”

you stand still, arms crossed and curiosity piqued. maybe you can wait until after the last song. if this is going to be your last hurrah, then you might as well see it through til the end. just this once, and never again.

hansol clears his throat and looks out into the darkened theater. “this song is about a girl i’m in love with,” he starts. that gets a light laugh out of the crowd, a couple whistles and cheers, and he chuckles into the microphone before continuing. the words that have been brewing in your head for weeks seem to instantly melt on your tongue as his voice rings in your ears, echoing through your mind. that’s not you. that’s definitely not you.

“i hope she’s here tonight, but i wouldn’t blame her if she wasn’t. because i think i kind of fucked everything up.” he swallows, his eyes darting back and forth as he scans across the crowd, searching for something. searching for you? “so if she’s out there, i’m sorry. and i know this won’t make up for it, but i hope you like it anyway.”

the crowd cheers again, louder than they have all night, but the noise quickly dies down once hansol begins to play. the lights go dim, and the room fills with a soft melody from his guitar. the sound is unfamiliar, a song you haven’t heard before, and you realize he must’ve been working on it outside of the band’s usual practices. 

even if he isn’t talking about you, the song is beautiful. his guitar seems to sing every note that plays, and you can practically see the air around him shimmering with energy. the rest of the room seems to fade away, the audience that separates you suddenly disappearing. it’s like you’re the only two people around, sitting beside him as he plays just for you. 

he’s done that a few times, played you little snippets on his guitar. you can almost picture it now: it’s always right after he parks outside the bar, before you head inside together. he’ll unzip the case and pull his guitar from the backseat, positioning it on his lap. he comes up with a different reason every time; sometimes he’ll ask if the chords he’s been working on sound good together, sometimes he’ll tell you to listen to see if it needs tuning, sometimes he’ll say he just needs to practice this section a couple more times before giving up for the night and getting shitfaced with you off too many shots.

but you always see right through his flimsy excuses; obviously he’s doing it to show off, to impress you or something. but for the life of you, you’ve never been able to figure out why. why should he care about impressing you, if he doesn’t want to go any further with you?

and suddenly, as you stand in the back of the theater, watching his eyes sparkle under the lights and his fingers breeze over his guitar, looking more focused and frustrated and angry and sad and sorry than you’ve ever seen him look, now you finally have your answer.

you don’t want him to be talking about you. he shouldn’t be talking about you. you almost wish he would just be an asshole to you, give you a good reason to yell at him and cuss him out and tell him to fuck off, but he never does. sure, he’s a little dense to the not-so-subtle hints you’ve been trying to drop, but he’s always been good to you, even if it’s breaking your heart in the process. maybe you’ve been the dense one all along.

the show ends in a blur, and the lights come back on as people start to file out. there's cheers and more shouts for another encore, but it's clear the night is over. this is the part you've been dreading; even after days of convincing yourself, you're still not sure what you're going to do.

when the crowd finally clears out enough for you to move towards the stage, you can already see the group that’s formed around the members. cheol is off to one side, giving out autographs to whoever waves their napkins closest to him. mingyu’s helping wonwoo pack up his drum kit, smiling shyly at the girls calling his name and promising he’ll come back out to the lobby to meet them once he’s finished.

and then there’s hansol, looking flustered as people crowd around him, a deep blush in his cheeks as he waves his hands to try and get them to leave. you’re just far enough from his line of sight that you almost hesitate. it’s not too late to turn around. it’s not too late to leave before he can see you, to disappear from his life forever, but your heart won’t let you. 

you walk a little closer to the stage, hanging back behind the crowd of people, but he sees. his face lights up with relief, and even from a few feet away you can still see his eyes soften. he tells the people to move, more firmly with his words this time, and he hops down off the stage as they part to make room for him. when it’s clear his attention is no longer on them, they grumble and walk away, talking to their friends about the show and how hot all the members are and how they’re definitely planning on coming back the next time they perform.

hansol reaches you in a couple of strides, stopping just in front of you. he stays silent for a second, his eyes roaming over you almost gratefully.

“hi,” he says finally, offering you a lopsided smile. he wipes his palms on his jeans nervously. “you came.”

you bite your lip for a second before you nod. “i did.”

“so you’re— did you— were you here for the end of the show?” he asks, trying to hide the stutter in his words. it’s cute how shy he is all of a sudden. it’s not like him to be shy like this. but then again, the only times you’ve seen him are when he’s playing with the guys or fucking your brains out while he's drunk, so it’s not like you’ve really gotten to know him. maybe he’s always been this shy and you were just too caught up in him to notice.

you know what he’s trying to say without outright saying it. obviously you were there the whole time, a fact you aren’t the proudest of, but you aren’t about to let him know that. “i heard your song,” you finally settle on, cutting straight to the point.

his face goes through about a hundred emotions in the span of a second, from surprised to happy then right back to shy again. “yeah?”

even though most of the room has cleared out by now, he starts walking as he talks, pulling you through the side door into the quieter backstage area. you follow him around the corner until you reach a private room, a wrinkled sheet of paper taped to the door with his name written in sharpie. his guitar case that you've seen so many times lies open on the floor, his backpack slumped against one wall.

“i liked it.”

he exhales in relief as he turns back around to face you, and you can almost see his whole body relax. “i'm so fucking sorry,” he says, nearly stumbling over his words with how fast he tries to get them out. “i've been really, really stupid. the way i left you the other night… i shouldn't have let you go like that. i regretted it the second you left.”

you purse your lips as you listen. you can tell he really means it, and it's getting harder and harder to stay mad at him. but you can't let him off that easy, not after how long you've been going through this.

“i just don't understand what it is you want, hansol. you treat me like— i don't know, like nothing.” you pause and chew on the inside of your cheek for a second, letting your words sink in. “and then out of the blue you beg me to come to your show, and you play this really sweet, heartfelt song, so how the hell am i supposed to take that?”

he winces, but the wounded look on his face doesn't feel as satisfying as you'd hoped it would. “i know. i'm just… i'm bad with words. i'm better at music.” he sighs. “but that's not an excuse. i didn't ever wanna make you feel like that, not on purpose. i just got scared. but i shouldn't have.”

you stand silently, waiting. clearly, there's more on his mind. he stuffs his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“i love the way you laugh. i love the way you watch me when i'm playing and it makes me feel like the only person in the whole world. i love the way you smile when you're drunk and the way you kiss me. and it was stupid of me to ever think i didn't want that all the time.” he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes, the fear in his expression more obvious than anything you've ever seen before.

you let out a breath, your voice dropping almost to a whisper. “you should've just said that.”

“i should've,” he agrees.

you offer him a tight-lipped smile, trying to keep yourself together. this is not how you thought tonight would go. you didn't even think you'd talk to him, and if you did, you thought it would be a shouting match, screaming and cursing before angrily storming out of the venue, finally feeling vindicated after all this time. yet here you are, standing quietly in front of him and trying not to cry.

he waits for a second, trying to gauge your reaction before he continues. “you're, like, my best friend,” he says, adding a nervous little chuckle to lighten the mood. “i think about you every time i play or whenever i try to write something. it's always about you. you don't know how much i look forward to thursday practices and getting to see you.”

now it's your turn to laugh. “you literally could've just texted me and i probably would've dropped everything to be there, anytime.”

he grins, his smile a little wider this time. “yeah, i know. i tried, the other day when i invited you. that was scary as shit.”

he looks up at you again, his soft brown eyes and long eyelashes shining even under the dim flickering bulb overhead. “i'm really glad you came tonight, though. i wasn't expecting you to, but i really hoped you would.” he offers you another nervous smile. “will you let me try again?”

you don't answer right away, and the look of nervousness starts to seep back into his features. “i promise i—”

but you cut him off, pulling him in by his shoulders and pressing your lips against his. he falters for just a second but his arms immediately wrap around your waist, tilting his head to lean into the kiss, and somehow that one little action feels more natural than anything you've ever done together.

you slide your tongue against his lips, and he lets out a groan into your mouth before he pulls back to breathe. “is that a yes?”

you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes and laugh, but instead you just nod. “yes.”

you definitely didn't come here tonight expecting to get laid. in fact, the last thing you ever thought you'd do is sleep with hansol again. but all of that feels like a distant memory as you head out of the community theater together, his guitar case over his shoulder, walking hand in hand towards his car.

the routine is familiar, but nothing is the same. you're not drunk, you're not in the parking lot of a cheap bar, and you don't feel lonely anymore. 

he unlocks the doors and you start to climb into the backseat, but he lets out a little noise and shakes his head, and you look up at him in confusion. 

“we're going back to my place. or yours, if you want.” he reaches down to offer his hand and help you out of the car. “i said i was gonna do it right this time, didn't i?”

by the time you get back to your apartment, your stomach is in knots in the very best way. your hands shake as you fumble with your keys, and if you weren’t so on edge it would have almost made you laugh, the way hansol looks away and pretends not to notice. you're more alike than you thought, and suddenly you're overcome with a feeling of excitement. now you get to discover all these little things about him: things you didn't allow yourself to see before, things he wants to show you and tell you and share with you. 

you try not to let the awkwardness seep back in, but you pause outside your bedroom door, almost as if you're waiting for hansol to tell you what to do. in just one night he's turned your life on its head, and now you're at a loss.

so he takes it as a sign and kisses you, his hands finding your waist and slowly trailing up your body until he's cupping your chin. it's different from all the other times he's kissed you. it's not just the fiery passion you're used to when you can tell he's worked up, but there's a hint of uncertainty in it, more similar to the kisses he gives you afterwards when you're trying to figure out whether to ask for a ride home or not. and then, the pieces finally settle into place and you realize he wasn't kissing you like that because he didn't want you; he was kissing you like that because he did.

you pull away and he freezes a little, and you can tell from the worried look in his eyes that he thinks he's gone too far. “relax,” you laugh softly, your forearms still resting on his shoulders. 

he complies, but his eyes still dart across your face in nervousness. despite how badly he wants you, how badly he needs to prove himself to you, there's clearly still so much that needs to be discussed before you can move forward, things that've been left unsaid for far too long.

you inhale and look up into his eyes, trying to find what emotion is hidden there. “what do you want, hansol?”  

“want you to be my girlfriend,” he breathes out without hesitating. if it were any other time and place you might've thought he was joking, but you can tell he's dead serious.

“i—” whatever words you had ready instantly die in your throat, not expecting such a genuine answer. “yes. but i meant, like, right now. what do you want, right now.”

his expression shifts in understanding and he grins, though it's still shy. “oh. well…” he pauses again to think. “what do you want me to do?”

you watch his eyes carefully for a moment before you reply. you've wanted him to do a lot of things. you wanted him to be better, you wanted him to be worse. you wanted him to do anything besides being stuck in this weird limbo of friend-zoned friends with benefits. but now that the choice is up to you… you don't want any of that.

“i want you to be honest,” you start softly, almost shy to say it, but you know it needs to be said. “i want you to tell me how you feel. because i can't lie, you really fucked up. i shouldn't have given you so many chances.” he winces at that, but you brush your thumb along his cheek and pull his attention back to you. “but i did. so you need to earn my trust again. and i just want you to not be so afraid anymore.”

he stays silent for a long moment before he nods, as if he's seriously considering your words. “i know,” he says finally. his voice is quieter now, barely above a whisper. “i'm sorry. you're gonna get so fucking sick of hearing me say how sorry i am, but i'm not gonna stop saying it.”

you want to laugh, but his tone is so serious that you know you shouldn't, so you keep a straight face and ask him again. “so… what do you want?”

he lets out a sigh, still holding you face in his hands. “shit, everything. but, first— i really wanna taste you. can… can i?”

you take a step backwards into the bedroom and he follows, tearing off clothes one by one in a hurry until you're both left with just underwear. with the limited space in his car you've never actually been fully naked together before, and the thought of him seeing you is both terrifying and exhilarating. 

he leans you down onto the bed and you pull him down with you. he falls beside you, pausing to kiss you once more before rolling off the bed and onto his knees, holding your legs in front of him as he stares up at you.

it's the kind of image that could drive a woman mad. you didn't think he was capable of being this patient, but it seems he's full of surprises tonight. “yes,” you breathe out and finally give him an answer. your eyes are locked onto his, a silent conversation happening between you in the span of a second.

he clears his throat and slowly pries your legs apart, pulling his gaze away from your face to stare between your thighs instead.

“god, this pussy…” he groans in delight as he settles your legs over his shoulders, his gaze transfixed on the wet spot at the seat of your panties.

he slides his palms up your thighs, and for his sake you pretend not to notice the way his fingers are shaking just a little. you lift your hips to encourage him, and he slips his long fingers beneath the hem of your panties before pulling them down, taking his time to slide them off and toss them on the floor behind him.

his hands immediately come back up to your thighs, using his thumbs to press your legs apart to give him a better view.

“so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbles to no one but himself. it's like he's in a trance, admiring the dripping mess between your legs like it's about to be his last meal. if he hadn't been so enthusiastic, you might've been embarrassed at the electric shiver that runs through you from his praise. but when there's a man this hot in front of you, kneeling and staring up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, it's hard to feel embarrassed for long.

he leans in and presses a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your clit, and you nearly jump out of your skin at the feeling. he's never been incredibly rough with you before, but he’s never been this gentle, either. he's touching you so delicately, like a statue at a museum that he's not sure yet if he's allowed to touch or not.

your reaction spurs him on, and he leans in further to flatten his tongue against your entrance and gives a long, slow lick. your hips lift automatically, trying to push him closer and add more pressure.

he curls his tongue through your folds before pulling away, his hands coming up to rest on your hip bones and hold you down. “even better than i imagined,” he groans, looking up at you from his spot on the floor, and the image of him down there makes you so dizzy that you have to lay back down against the bed again.

“more,” you whimper desperately. in the back of your mind there's a distant feeling of shyness at how demanding you're being, but you don't think twice about it. after everything he put you through, he still needs to prove himself to you, that he's not going to break your heart again. but he's doing a damn good job so far. “vernon— ah, fuck!”

“mm, anything.” he presses a kiss against the soft skin on inside of your thigh. “anything you want, baby.”

you don't even have time to process the nickname before he's diving back in, his lips wrapped around your clit as he sucks at you. you let out a strangled noise of surprise, your hand instantly flying down to hold his head.

your fingers tangle in his hair, his tongue so deep in your pussy that you're already gasping and writhing under his touch. you can't tell which one of you has been more stupid for not letting this happen sooner, because it almost seems like he's enjoying this more than you are.

the coil in your stomach already feels like it's about to burst, pent up with white-hot energy that feels hotter than the sun. it hardly takes a few more pointed laps of his tongue before you fall apart into his mouth, whimpering and groaning and begging shamelessly for him. 

“you called me vernon,” he says when you finally manage to push his head away, shivering with overwhelming sensitivity. he lifts one hand to wipe at his chin, way too nonchalant after everything he just did.

you're still fighting through the haze of your orgasm but his words bring you back down to earth, and your face fills with heat. “huh? sorry, i—”

“everybody calls me vernon,” he says as he shakes his head, quickly cutting you off. he stands up and moves onto the bed, flopping down beside you. “i liked that you always called me hansol. made it feel special.”

your eyes follow his movements, still laying on your back as you catch your breath. “but…?”

he grins, and you swear there's a hint of blush in his cheeks. “but that was really sexy when you called me vernon. it sounds way cooler when it's coming from you.”

all you can do is laugh, letting your eyes close as you rest your hands on your stomach. “noted,” you giggle. “so should i do it more, then?”

he hums in thought, rolling over onto his side so that he's closer to you. “you can do whatever you want, baby.”

that nickname again. he's already started leaning in to kiss you again, but you grab his shoulders and pull him down to meet him halfway. there's a bitterness on his tongue that you'd almost forgotten about, but you're quickly reminded once you feel his hand sliding across your stomach and down back between your legs. you let out a surprised but happy moan into his mouth, one of your hands moving to the back of his head to kiss him harder.

your legs part, accepting the warmth of his palm as he gently presses it against your sensitive clit. he holds his hand there for just a moment, pausing his movements as he kisses you, eagerly swallowing the whimpers and sounds you give him in return.

after a minute he shifts his hand, carefully pressing his index and middle finger into you. you're right up at the edge again already, clenching down hard around his fingers as he sets a slow pace, pulling them out halfway before thrusting them in deeper than before. you're seeing stars, releasing a constant stream of muffled moans into his lips as he curls his fingers inside you. he follows the rhythm of your hips as you rut against his palm, letting the movement force his fingers even deeper.

his fingers are dripping with your juices, down his knuckles and pooling in his palm, but it only makes him want to fuck you even more. it's not like this is the first time he's fingered you. the guys at the auto shop down the street know him all too well, from the amount of times he's had to take his car in to get the seats cleaned. he always claims that it's because he's a messy eater, and while that's true in some ways, he knows those guys don't buy it for a fucking second.

his fingers are completely buried inside you but he never stops kissing you, breathing almost as heavily as you are. he stops thrusting his fingers and adjusts his hand once more, pressing his thumb against your clit to rub lazy circles over it. 

“ver—vern— fuck, hansol!” you finally manage to pull away from his lips, nearly gasping for air as another orgasm rips through you. his other hand slides down your body and it feels like the first time you've ever been touched, his palm so warm and tender against your skin that it somehow makes your high even better. you're shaking in his arms, lips parted in a soundless moan as you clench wildly around his fingers, but he just holds you tighter against his body and keeps pressing kisses along your jaw.

his lips are wet with both spit and slick as he watches you, his eyes filled with stars. usually when you're together, in the dark backseat of his car illuminated only by the moonlight and nearby streetlamps, it's hard to make out the details. it's dark, and everything is fuzzy from both the alcohol and the late hour. but now, he's realizing how stupid he was for never letting this happen sooner. he could've ended up going his whole life without ever seeing you like this, laying completely fucked out under the soft light in your bedroom, your pupils wide and eyes watery and so, so beautiful.

he waits until you've calmed down again, leaning away to give you a little space, but your hand shoots out to grab his wrist and keep him close to you and he can't help but smile. when you open your eyes you're expecting to find a cocky smirk, to see how proud of himself he is for having you in the palm of his hand so easily, but it's not there. just that soft smile.

“now. what do you want?” he says. “i should be asking you that way more often.”

“want you inside,” you pant out. “now. please? i— i missed you.” you shouldn't have said the last part out loud, but at this point you don't care anymore. all your cards are out on the table.

his eyes widen a little at your boldness, but he bites his lip and nods. he can't lie and say he wasn't secretly hoping you'd say that, but he'd be just as happy to sit here on the floor and eat you out over and over and over again. he'd do anything you want at this point, and not just because he feels like he owes you. he does, but it's deeper than that. it's a different kind of feeling, one that makes him want to do cheesy shit like lay his jacket over puddles for you and buy an airplane to write your name in the sky.

as he starts to position himself between your legs on the bed, you watch his face. his expression is outwardly neutral, but little by little you've started to recognize the signs of his happiness. it looks good on him.

but your brain isn't content with that, not just yet. you swallow as a thought crosses your mind, and you can't push it down any longer.

“wait,” you say quietly, forcing the word out before you can reconsider. he stops immediately, his eyes searching your face for anything he can find, any sign that you've changed your mind about this.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice just as quiet, as if he's afraid to speak too loudly and break the tension of this moment.

you clear your throat as best you can manage, though it's kind of starting to get sore from how much and how loudly you've been moaning all night. “just curious,” you start, nervousness suddenly starting to creep in. but tonight is for being honest, and you can handle the truth. probably.

“before, while we were together— well, it doesn't really count as being ‘together’ but you know what i mean.” you pause again, chewing your lip. “did you ever… y'know. was there ever anybody else?”

hansol exhales, still hovering over you. “no. unless you count lotion and my hand, ‘cause there was a lot of that.” your eyes soften and you visibly relax at his words, and he mentally kicks himself for ever making you even think that was the case. that there would ever be anyone else for him but you. “i know i was stupid, but i'm not that stupid.”

“okay.” you pause again, trying to figure out how to get back on track. “sorry, i just wanted to know. i don't care.”

he scoffs, but his tone is more melancholy than angry. he shifts on top of you so he can rest on his elbows, getting closer and brushing his hand over your hair. “you should care. if i had, i would've given you full permission to lay into me, cuss me out, whatever. i would've deserved it. you don't deserve that.”

“i wanted to, trust me.” you sigh. “but you're too nice to me. i thought…” you chew on your lip, eyes searching his as you try to figure out what to say. “…i don't know what i was thinking.”

“i don't think i'm anywhere near ‘too nice’,” hansol laughs. the sincerity in his expression almost makes you feel better. “i'm the luckiest dude on the planet that you didn't decide to, like, slash the tires on my car and egg my house or something instead. i really wouldn't have blamed you if you did.”

“maybe i should then, next time,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face.

he shakes his head. “there won't be a next time.”

the room goes quiet and you stare at each other for a second, letting his words sink in. you can tell he's being lighthearted, but he's not even trying to hide the sincerity behind his words.

“you can… continue now,” you say after a tense moment, breaking the silence. the tension in the room is thick but it's not uncomfortable, slowly but surely melting into a lust that's deeper than any of the times you've been drunk and horny in his car.

he nods, and he reaches down to brush your hair back behind your ear before his hands slide down your body. he seems so hesitant to let go of you, but finally he lifts one hand to grip his cock and position himself at your entrance. he braces his other hand against your hip, shivering as he brushes the tip of his cock up through your folds. fuck, he's not gonna last. 

after steeling his nerves as best he can and trying to convince himself not to bust the second he's inside you, he angles himself between your legs and starts to push in.

by some miracle he manages not to cum immediately, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think about literally anything else but how fucking beautiful you are lying beneath him, but what actually happens instead might be worse.

hansol groans once he's fully inside, slowly splitting you open bit by bit until he bottoms out with his hips flush against yours. there are so many words on his tongue begging to spill out, but he can't think straight. holy shit, he can't even think about anything right now. why did he never say anything sooner? why did he waste so much time content with putting in the least amount of effort when he could've been having you like this all along?

“i love you,” he blurts out, and for a split second you think maybe this is all a dream and somehow you passed out at the show and hit your head so hard you started hallucinating this. but then his eyes widen and he winces in that way you've started to recognize, and you almost laugh because now you know it's real.

“shit, i don't know why i said that. i'm sorry. fuck, i'm sorry,” he groans and hangs his head, but despite his embarrassment you can still feel every inch of his dick twitching inside you and it feels way too good to ignore. “you don't have to say it back. i know it's way too soon—”

“did you mean it?”

“what?”

“did you mean it?” you repeat. his attention pulls back to you, a confused yet hopeful look in his eyes that makes your heart warm.

he clears his throat, obviously trying to hide the pink spreading across his cheeks. “yeah. i think i did. and not just because you have the best pussy ever.”

“are you sure? because that's what it sounds like to me,” you tease and try to roll your eyes, but his words make you clench involuntarily around him and he curses under his breath.

“fuck— yes, i’m very sure, i meant it and i'll keep saying it forever if you'll let me.” he lets out a groan, both hands now firmly planted on your waist. “but, god, please let me fuck you now. i'm trying so goddamn hard to hold back and i'll gladly go for another round later but i'm trying to make it up to you right now and it's gonna completely ruin it if i cum in, like, five seconds.”

you can't help your laughter in that moment so all you can do is nod, lifting your hips a little to try and get him going. and he takes the hint, pulling halfway out of you before slamming back in, a loud, deep string of groans leaving his lips.

his pace starts out frantic but he quickly calms himself down, stabilizing himself through his grip on your waist and pulling you to meet his thrusts. he snaps his hips into you at a smooth pace, his cock dragging against your walls with each stroke in a way that has you clawing at his wrists for support as he holds onto you.

hansol may be bad at relationships, but he's never been bad at sex. even on a good day it really doesn't take much to have you seeing stars, but this is different. this is desperate, determined, thankful, and hopeful all wrapped into one movement, sliding in and out of you with a passion you've only ever seen when he's playing guitar. 

“ha— ngh— hansol!” despite your efforts to keep it steady, your voice still comes out broken, his name escaping your lips as easily as breathing. you roll your head back against the pillow, and you're suddenly even more grateful that you're at home in your bed instead of alone in a parking lot. this is so much better, better than you could've dreamed.

“fuck, you always take my cock so good,” hansol groans as he leans forward and buries his face in your chest. “i should’ve been telling you that every single time, how good you are. so fucking good.”

the way he fucks you is strangely tender, in a way you're not sure you've ever felt before. it's rough, but somehow in a gentle way. he's taking you apart piece by piece and putting you back together with his hands, his kisses, his touch. none of the times before have ever come close to this. 

maybe it's the feeling of a mattress beneath your back instead of a hard plastic seat, or maybe it's the promises hanging in the air between you that makes this time feel brand new. maybe you're just too caught up in the moment to think straight, but for the first time it finally feels like a fresh start. this time is different.

“baby, please, one more for me,” he moans into your skin as his hips begin to grow weary, his breath hot against your chest. “‘m not gonna last much longer— fuck, cum for me one more time, baby. god, you're so perfect. please, let me make you cum.”

at this point he's rambling, almost as far gone as you are, but it's like he doesn't even need to ask. as soon as the words leave his mouth you feel the familiar sensation starting to build again, burning hotter and quicker than before. you almost start to panic because you can't even tell if you have another one left in you, but you look up and meet his eyes one last time and suddenly a wave of calm washes over you at the sight of his soft brown eyes filled with way more love than you're expecting to find there.

you don't even have time to tell him when it hits you one more time, you just grab him and hang on tight as your high tears through you. you struggle to lift your legs and wrap them around his back, pulling him in even closer to you as your walls flutter uncontrollably around him. he invades your senses and you can feel him everywhere, and you can only hope he feels the way you do.

but it's obvious that he does, because “ah, shit—” is the last thing you hear before he pulls out, barely managing to get back in time before he spills all over your stomach, your thighs, your pussy, the sheets. it's everywhere, and neither of you care. his hands are still on you gripping your waist tightly like he can't bear to let go, his cock pulsing limply as it rests against your stomach. rope after rope of thick white floods over your skin, and yet it's like he barely even notices because he's so busy repeating your name, praising you again and again in between swears and shaky moans.

you're panting, your hands shaking as you reach for him, but he's already right there. he's breathing heavily himself as he drops down on the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his head in the crook of your neck. 

his weight half leaning against you is grounding, and eventually you feel your heart starting to return to normal as you become aware of the sticky puddle of sweat and cum that you're both laying in. but you just close your eyes and rest, focusing on his body warmth and his palm holding your side and the tickle of air coming from his nose as he breathes against you, and you realize nothing, no feeling in the world, has ever felt better than this.

when he reluctantly pulls himself away from your body to go look for a towel, you already know there's no question about whether or not he's staying over tonight.

once he's done cleaning you off he lifts you up into his arms, laughing and nuzzling his nose into your neck as he sets you down at your desk chair to start stripping the mess of sheets off your bed, and in that moment you can't help but think how lucky you are. he keeps saying that he's the lucky one for letting him have a second chance, but you're lucky in a lot of ways, too. lucky that it turned out he wasn't as much of an idiot as you’d thought. lucky that your heart wouldn't let you give up on him, no matter how hard you tried. lucky that after everything, hope still works sometimes.

after stumbling around your room, tossing blankets and sheets around and looking the happiest you've ever seen him, you're finally settled down together and you're back where you've always belonged, laying in his arms. it's so late that the sun is probably coming up soon and you're exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of a night, but you couldn't care less about what happens next because everything finally feels right.

hansol sighs, his arm curled a little awkwardly around your shoulders as he twirls a lock of your hair between his fingers. “can… we not do this anymore?” he asks finally. 

his voice is quiet; not shy or uncertain, just quiet. it's different than what you're used to with him. usually when you're around him everything is loud, it's fast and messy and jumbled, a whirlwind of a night followed by heartache and a pounding headache in the morning. but now he's just… quiet. all the thoughts that normally rush through your head are gone, leaving nothing but silence.

you swallow, confused. although you've already talked out all your worries, you can't help the uncertain feeling that starts to return. “what do you mean? like, right now?”

he exhales like he's thinking, and his fingers pause in your hair. “like… i don't know. i want things to be good between us. whatever we were doing before— anything but that. no more not talking about stuff. no more tension. y'know? i promise.”

“mmm.” you hum, letting his words sink in for a while. you drum your fingers absently against his chest, almost trying to make sure he's still there. “yeah. i think… i think things are good between us now.” you giggle, leaning your head against his chest. “as long as you don't pull that shit again.”

he laughs, reaching up to grab your hand off his chest and hold it there. “oh, yeah, i know. you're way too good to me for even giving me another chance. i'm so sorry i almost fucked it all up.”

“you don't have to say that anymore.”

“well like i said, babe, i'm going to—”

“you can just keep saying ‘i love you’ instead.” you interrupt, squeezing his hand in yours.

he stops short in the middle of his sentence, caught in surprise, but as soon as your words register a grin slowly begins to make its way across his face. “cool. then… i love you.”

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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, please reblog or leave a comment or an ask! it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! i put a lot of time, love, and effort into writing this, so feedback is really appreciated :) thanks for reading!!

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[belxveds]

Could you write a fic where the reader is Stark’s daughter and he catches her and Peter fooling around in her room/main room whilst they think he is out?

caught in a web of kisses

pairings: peter parker x f!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader

brief: (requested!) misunderstandings and compromising situations with peter lead to a whole of cackling and screaming throughout the stark tower compound. a brief look into the life of y/n stark and your struggles with your stupidly overprotective dad and chaotically cute boyfriend.

tags: humour. fluff. borderline crack fic. "enemies" to lover. established relationship.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting! i appreciate it :) it always makes fills me with so much joy to know someone seeks out my writing <3

requests are open!

wc: 1.4k

Perhaps it wasn't your smartest idea to pretend to absolutely despise your father's intern in front of your parents and the Avengers but . . . well- how could you possibly resist yourself when it was so much fun sharing sneaky, mischievous smiles with Peter as you both shot teasing glares across the room to maintain your appearance as rivals?

Plus, it was just a little prank to keep your relationship with Peter, as well as the days spent at the compound, more interesting. If anything, you and Peter were single handedly entertaining the entirety of Avengers with your debates and arguments. You were fairly sure they had bets going on about the two of you. It was harmless, really.

And it wasn't like you were going to keep it from them forever! You would tell them . . . eventually. You just- hadn't thought anyone would find out like this. With you and Peter in such a . . . compromising situation?

You almost let out a small groan of exhaustion as you sunk into the unnecessarily large couch your dad had purchased for the lounge, melting into Peter's side as you fiddled with the remote to lower the lights and dim the windows. Pouting at the sliver of light that still managed to peek through the sunroof, you let out the smallest huff as you closed that as well before turning to take a glance at your boyfriend.

He let out a small yawn before shifting with your attention on him, cuddling into you tighter as he murmured, "You sure no one will be back for another 2 hours? 'Cause I swear if we get caught because you wanted to take a nap on the couch, I will never let you live this down."

Snuggling deeper into the blanket you'd draped over the two of you, you couldn't help but let out the smallest breathless laugh as you responded, "That's if they don't kill you first."

"Hey!" Peter quipped, voice growing the tiniest bit slurred as the nap you promised him began to look awfully tempting, "I'll have you know that I think your dad and also everyone else is quite fond of me, alright?"

You couldn't help but let out a snort as you mocked, pretending to push up fake glasses on the bridge of your nose as you raised the pitch of your voice, "I'll have you know-"

The gentle whack you got on your arm made you stop mid-sentence as you giggled, answering your boyfriend more seriously, "Everyone's schedule says they have stuff going on until at least 6:00, unless they were all just to magically-"

"What happened to, "God dad, if I have to see your stupid intern's face one more time, you're going to have to hold me back from stealing your repulsors and pulverizing the shit out of him?""

You're entire body pauses as you feel Peter tense in your arms, the both of you wincing in sync as you slowly, cautiously, turn your head around to face your dad, voice dragging out as you say nervously, "Uhm...so you see-".

Peter's bewilderment is audible as his head snaps to you, eyes furrowed in confused amusement as he hisses, "Why the fuck are you starting to quote Dhar Mann right now?"

"Peter", your dad interrupts, tone much too pleasant for the situation at hand and consequently sending both your spines into automatically locking up straight as you await his next move, fight or flight instincts activated, "You have 3 seconds to run."

"Mr. Stark, we can talk about this-"

"3 . . ."

"Oh shit!", your boyfriend scrambles, legs tangling into themselves and the blanket in his attempts to get free and run as he presses a ragged kiss to your forehead while declaring muffled through his panicked breath, "If I don't make it out of this alive, just know I wanted you to have my babies and be Y/N Parker-Stark."

The confession sends a surprised wheeze to rack through your body as you see him begin to take down the hallway, sparing a glance over his shoulder at you and your dad before maneuvering himself onto the ceiling and into the vents.

Your eyes tearing up from laughter, you try to speak through your immobilizing giggles as you address your dad, "Dad, father dearest, please- come on- spare him-" "2 . . ." "Dad! C'mon- you have to admit . . . from a completely scientific and objective lens with zero romantic emotions taken into account, considering all the teenage boys out there, Peter is definitely one of the better choices", you tried to level, summoning the critically-acclaimed award winning Y/N Stark inside of you and not the moderately concerned girlfriend worried that her boyfriend's cause of death may in fact be the same repulsors Peter had helped your father tweak in the lab earlier today. How unfortunately ironic. Shuffling over, albeit a bit awkwardly, to where your dad stood, you cautiously peered closer at his profile, trying your best to assess exactly how much trouble you were in. You knew deep down, he truly wasn't all that upset, though, maybe a bit grumpy about having been kept out of the loop for this long. In fact, you were positively confident he was quite happy with who you had chosen. Despite all of his teasing and successfully accomplished fatherly duties of bullying the both of you, it was stupidly evident how much he cared for Peter like a son. Not just anyone was allowed to intern for the Tony Stark, after all.

Lost in thought, you couldn't help but yelp slightly and flinch into your father's side as a muffled voice echoed down from the ceiling, cooing, "Aww Y/N, you really mean that?"

Cursing at your boyfriend's surprising lack of self preservation skills taking into consideration his literal job and particular set of talents, you glared upwards. Hoping your disappointment at his lack of distance somehow radiated through the insulated plaster, you deadpanned, "No, I was just playing. I wish I'd gotten with Harley."

"What?!" squeaked Peter, like a little vent rat, his offended gasp echoing in time with your dad's final countdown.

Giggling once again at Peter's frightened scuttling at the realization that he was out of time, you quickly reached to grip at your dad's suit clad bicep before he could make a motion to call at the Iron Man suit, your voice taking on a more serious tone as you asked softly, his opinion and approval still highly valuable to you, "You're ok with me and Peter dating though? Genuinely?"

The twitch of his signature smirk on the corner of his lips and the nodding glint in his eyes sent a happy thrill through your heart, instinctively grinning wide as you squealed and rushed to give him a tight hug, speaking through a stifled smile into his chest, "Ok, you have my consent to go squish my little spider now. Please don't bring him back to me flattened or burnt- I quite like how he is now." Your father's wrinkled nose and vocal sound of disgust at how you'd addressed his intern sent you into another fit of laughter as he spoke, "Ground rules since I know the kid's out of his freaky super-hearing range. One, ew. Never address him like that again, I might vomit. Two, if I see the two of you touch, I am immediately invoking a 50 year social-distancing ban between the two of you. 6 feet and everything. I'll throw in permanent masks if I ever catch you two kissing. Three, . . . no promises."

"In response- One, . . . no promises. Two, you don't want spider grandbabies crawling up the walls? All I'm hearing is that we can't get caught. Three, I'll tell mom", you grinned pulling back, your gaze filled with amusement and the look of humoured adoration you often had reserved specifically for your dad as he let out a little whine in complaint at your threat of telling Pepper.

It would just be a little rough up. You know, the classic "hurt my daughter and you're dead" speech. And Peter was Spider-Man! He'd be fine . . . probably.

mailbox ༶•┈ peter parker's mailbox! ┈•༶ send letter

[wrioluvr]

coming out to + confessing to belobog men. ⋆⋅♡⋅⋆

note: wanted to try my hand at writing more cute stuff <3 also there are like ZERO posts in the luka x male reader tag my baby deserves more. happy pride my beloved readers!!! i wrote this like 6 months ago and coincidentally just picked it back up in time for june! i don't even play hsr anymore... crying emoji content: male reader, fluff. luka, sampo, gepard

sampo (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

would 100% know before you even told him

"hey, [name]! heard you got something to tell me, don't worry, your good pal sampo's all ears."

"sampo... uh.....i like... guys...."

"oh, is that it? i thought it was obvious..."

"HUH????"

"i meant- thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. your secret's safe with me, hehe." placing his hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture, he promises sincerely. despite his initial reaction, he really is touched. not many people trust him, so your willingness to share something so personal made him feel special.

"oh, and one more thing....."

"what is it? you got a secret boyfriend you didn't tell me about?" he asks teasingly, not expecting the bomb you're about to drop on him.

"...i like you."

his eyes go wide. "now that's a surprise."

even though he'd scam people without a second thought, some calling him cruel, he can't bring himself to be indifferent to you. here you were, pouring your heart out, with such a nervous expression on your face, how could he maintain his usual sly demeanour? in all seriousness, he knows he's a bit scummy, so he would be a bit hesitant about getting into a relationship for your sake. he's always running about, chased by the authorities, he doesn't want you to be involved into all that. but if you're willing to accept him and his slippery ways, he'll be sure to put an equal amount of effort. he hates owing favours, after all.

"oh, how could i refuse such a an enticing offer? of course i'll be your boyfriend, [name]." he can't help the grin that appears on his face at your expression, simultaneously shocked and overjoyed. "seriously, you're too precious.... c'mon, let's go on a date!" throwing an arm around you, he squeezes your shoulder excitedly.

"wha- like right now?? and you accepted my confession just like that???" you're at loss of words as he drags you along to who knows where.

"what are you waiting for? let's go, pal! wait- should i call you pal now that we're dating? how about buddy? hmm... still too friendly. how do you feel about sweetheart?"

જ⁀➴

every time he appears at your door, giving you a sheepish grin as he explains how he needs to lay low for a bit, it always comes with a kiss, or several, along with a heart-shaped box of your favourite chocolates. he might go missing for a few days at a time on "business" (probably some illegal trading), but he always makes sure to update you on his whereabouts so you don't worry, sending a bunch of heart pom-pom stickers to let you know he misses you. if anyone were to ever make some snide comments about your sexuality, his first instinct would be to drop every job he's doing and comfort you, followed by using his various contacts to deal with that person swiftly. natasha and seele can't believe he actually got someone to like him, much less get into a serious relationship, but nevertheless, they make sure to look out for you to ensure he doesn't break your heart. he vows not to ever hurt you though, it's the last thing he'd ever want. his promises are often fickle with his clients, but with you, they're always sincere.

luka (૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭

would definitely being overenthusiastic about being an ally

"[name], hey! you wanted to tell me something? i hope it's about training with me...."

"sorry, luka, it's not about that.... i.... i just wanted to let you know that i'm gay."

"oh! like seele and bronya!"

"i mean- i guess....?" your nervousness was immediately replaced by a comical surprise at his response, you had to suppress your laughter. he was so genuine, it was endearing.

"don't worry! if any thugs give you shit for it, just tell me. i'll deal with them right away... i've been itching for a fight anyway." he immediately gets into a fighting stance, throwing a few punches in the air to get his point across. he ended his little show with a wink, causing your stomach to fill with butterflies. you decided to tell him then and there.

"and uh, luka. i like you."

"aw, thanks! i like you too. you're a great friend, [name]."

"like, in the romantic way..."

"that works too! that way, i can protect you easier." without missing a beat, he flashes you a grin and a thumbs up, seemingly unfazed by your sudden confession. but the slight dust of red on his cheeks let you know your words did have an effect.

"wait... you know this means we'll be boyfriends?" your head's reeling at how easily he accepted your feelings. did this man really not think about anything but training and beating up thugs??? not that you were complaining, his drive was one of his charming points, but still.

"yeah, i don't mind. with someone like you by my side, i'm sure i could take on any enemy. thank you for giving me this opportunity."

જ⁀➴

even though he puts on a strong front, secretly, he's deathly afraid of becoming a burden, especially to you. one of his favourite pastimes is training and working out with you, or he'd be content for you to just watch him train and cheer for him as well. as long as he has the reassurance that you know he's getting stronger, allowing him to shield you from the dangers of the underworld. if he ever gets injured, a simple persuasion won't work, you'll have to physically hold him in place so that you can treat his cuts and bruises - no matter how much he protests and insists he's fine, he does appreciate it. a lot. he enjoys the little things, the way you run your fingers along the cool metal of his arm as you ramble about your day, or the enthusiastic whoop you give every time he knocks an opponent out at the fight club, or the scent of the freshly cleaned towel you bring him to dry his sweat. you help him realise that there's time to relax, his self-imposed training schedule being so intense and demanding. getting him to not be so hard on himself would be a treat. if you ever get derogatory comments about your sexuality... trust, he'll personally teach them a lesson, and ask natasha not to treat them once he's done. after all, you give him another reason to continue training to be the strongest. he has to be there for you.

gepard ( •̀ - •́ )

dense cutie... wouldn't get your hints until you told him explicitly

"my apologies for being late, [name]... you had something you wanted to tell me?"

"no problem, gepard... i just wanted to tell you that-" taking a deep breath, you prepare youself for his reaction. "-i like guys."

"oh? me too, i'm quite fond of the guards under my care."

"i mean that i'm gay..."

"oh, that's what you meant. are you telling me this because you've faced some form of discrimination lately? don't worry, belobog has strict laws in place to prevent-"

"no, gepard- i'm telling this because i like you..."

"oh."

જ⁀➴

congratulations, you've courted the sweetest man in all of belobog! initially, he was slightly worried that your newfound relationship would interfere with his duties as protector of the people, but much to his surprise, making time for you is easy. or more so, it's because you always make the effort to stop by whenever he's out patrolling, so you end up spending a lot of time together anyway. his face might get red when you blow him a kiss behind the rest of the silvermane guards' backs, but he always makes sure to let you know how much he appreciates your guidance. he's a little self-conscious about his lack of romantic experience, so be gentle with him! don't tease him too much. while he is fully devoted to his duty, he's not above slipping away for a few minutes when you text him to meet in a back alley, to gift him some flowers you may or may not have stolen from belobog's florist. the next day, he would return the favour by holding out a bunch of your favourite flowers, home grown (an attempt was made) in his very own garden. hey, even if they're slightly wilted, it's the thought that counts, right? don't look at him with that affectionate gaze! he's embarrassed. it would be quite funny if you had criminal tendencies, gepard would be absolutely torn between lecturing you and turning a blind eye simply because his lovely boyfriend had made lunch for him earlier in the day. especially if you're friends with sampo, the little shit would threaten to snitch to you everytime gepard almost catches him. or.... perhaps.... he let you off the hook because of that one time you pinned him against some alley wall (when he was supposed to be patrolling! blasphemous.) and kissed him so hard his legs gave out. you've become one of his weaknesses, but he doesn't mind it. at all.

pic credits to dailysampo, dailygepard and dailylukaa on twt!

[russellsppttemplates]

You're a racewinner (Lando Norris)

The one where Lando won his first Formula One race

Note: english is not my first language. That race took years out of my life and all of the tears out of me, but I couldn't not do something for this moment ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to smut at the end, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Baby, can you come here and help me, please?", Lando called from the hotel bathroom, "I can't place this quite right".

Getting the plaster from your boyfriend's fingers, you fiddled with it a little before holding Lando's jaw so he could face you properly, "stay still,", you whispered, applying the sterile material on his nose cut with a tender touch.

"Thank you, lovie", Lando mumbled once you peeled both hands away from his face, pecking your lips, "couldn't help myself when I have your beautiful face so close to mine", he snickered.

Shaking your head at his capacity of turning you into mush, you pecked his nose gently, "are you going to play padel the whole afternoon?", you wondered.

"I'm not sure, I think so - we have dinner reservations downstairs though, Will, Mark and Oscar said they'd join us as well", he offered.

"Okay", you nodded, grabbing your laptop so you could get on with work at the desk in your room.

"Do you have a lot of work to do today, angel?", he asked, kissing your naked shoulder as he looked at the screen. For his life, he couldn't understand half of what you had written in there, let alone actually do any of the smart tasks you had in there.

"It's not too bad - it's the administrative boring stuff that I actually enjoy doing", you admitted. There wasn't much to it, and while your colleagues found it boring, you found comfort on the sequential and system like steps.

"I'm going then - call me if you need anything, okay?", he kissed the top of your head, "I love you".

"I love you too, Lan - enjoy yourself!", you kissed him back before he grabbed his things and left the room.

It certainly wasn't something you did for every race, but whenever it did, you'd fly in earlier with Lando and work remotely whenever he had his own duties and activities.

After King's Day, you and Lando flew over to Miami, the sunshine greeting you to contrast with the gloomy days you had back home. Warm weather always made you feel happier and you welcomed the golden hues on your skin after spending the first two days basking in eachother's presence by the pool and walks along the beach.

By the time Lando came back, he was met with you putting your laptop back into your backpack, "all done for today, beautiful?".

"Yes - for the week actually! There was a meeting that was cancelled and the other was pushed for next week, so I went ahead with the rest and it's all done!", you smiled, "I was about to shower when you texted saying that you were on your way back".

"You were waiting for me? Such a good girl", Lando whispered on your ear after wrapping his arms around your towell covered body, "let's go then", he pulled you with him.

After a shower filled with soft touches that were a thin line away from teasing, you both got ready for dinner, meeting the rest of the group at the restaurant.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?", Mark asked Lando once you were already enjoying your meal.

"What's tomorrow?", you questioned.

"I'm going the yoga class with Hilton - actually, you can come to that now that you don't have the meeting anymore", your boyfriend suggested, "you're a good... yoga practising person".

"That one on the beach? Am I allowed to go?", you asked. You wouldn't mind having a muscle stretching session.

"I'm sure they can put a mat down for you", Mark offered, "I'll text them about it".

"Lando will just get distracted by you and fall on his face - at least you can add to that plaster", Oscar joked before taking a sip of his water and earning himself a kick in the shin from your boyfriend.

.

"My girlfriend is actually quite good - I asked her to teach me some of this stuff because i didn't want to be too bad at it", Lando admitted, winking at you while he dusted the sand off of his fingers.

So far, the class was one of the funniest videos you've ever watched Lando record. He was really taking on the job and the part seriously, answering Alli with all of the lines you had told him about yesterday. Since you were sitting further at the back, you could giggle freely at his antics, stealing quick looks from eachother every chance you could.

"Look at this excellent form!", Alli complimented as she watched the rest of the class.

"She's talking about me, not you guys - me!", Lando chirped in as he stretched his arms up.

"Now this one is really good to stretch your hips", Ali added as she moved into a different position.

"Work on this one, lovie!", Lando shouted at you, "but be careful, okay?", he ensured as he looked to see if you were doing it well.

"I'm good, Lan, thank you!", you giggled, shaking your head before changing your feet position on the mat.

"Are you afraid of the sand?", Alli asked.

"I don't like the sand, no", Lando snickered, swatting the grains away from his hands, "Y/N will tell you all about it since she's always making fun of me because of it - she's lucky she's cute otherwise I might get mad", he argued half jokingly.

As the crew tidied the area, Lando crept up behind you, hugging your waist and pulling you to his chest, "did you like it, love?".

"It was nice, yes - my back and hips feel better actually", you smiled, resting your hands on top of his around your tummy.

"That's good", he placed a soft kiss on your neck, "how about we go and take advantage of that then?", he whispered.

"Lan, we're outside and we were doing yoga!", you scolded softly despite the goosebumps erupting on your skin. The warm Miami air didn't have anything to do with that reaction, so Lando knew you were just as bad as he was.

"We'll go to our room, of course - you look so good in these leggings and this top", he turned you around to face his chest, his hands grabbing a handful of your hips and butt, "I can tell you want it too", he smirked.

Playing coy, you fiddled with the string of his hoodie. How he was wearing it under this sun and warmth, you had no idea, but it would be a plus to touch and admire his body underneath it.

"You don't need to do anything else?", you asked. Despite your desire, you would never do anything that go between his work duties.

"No, I'm free for the rest of the day", he smiled.

As soon as you got the okay to leave and call it a day, Lando was a man on a mission to spoil you and let you lose yourselves in eachother.

.

Media day was usually the quietest day, but given the media and celebrity attention the paddock got for this Grand Prix, it was quite packed and action filled.

"Hello handsome", you greeted Lando once he came to meet you in the lounge for some lunch.

"I'm tired and I haven't done any racing yet", he muttered, "the social media team made me film this video which I think you'll like", he said, getting his phone from his pocket and showing it to you.

"Aren't we full of ourselves, hm? It's a video of your handsome face", you pointed out teasingly, kissing his cheek before watching it again.

"Are you saying you don't like it? If you didn't like it, you wouldn't have watched it again and again", Lando tickled, ending up having to hold your back so you wouldn't fall to the ground.

"You look very handsome, baby", you agreed with him, catching your breath as you sat on his lap.

"We also met Jimmy Butler and the team brought one of the trophies out - it was so cool, look!", he showed you on his phone, flickering through his gallery.

.

The first sprint qualifying session gave the team a 1-2, followed by Lando's pole position for the second session was applauded by everyone in the garage, "I'm not sure how it's going to be with the compound change though, but everyone else is also changing so we'll see", Mark observed. 

The car seemed to skid away slightly, the grip level from the new tire not allowing Lando a smooth turn as you watched his on-board for the third and last qualifying session. 

"I'm happy with everything, just not one thing", you heard Lando say in the post qualifying interviews.

You didn't get to see him before he went to the media pen, so you couldn't whisper sweet words to him before he went out there. Not that he would listen to them too much anyway. If there was something you learned over the years is that you should let him come to you, no matter how much you wanted to hold him in your arms.

He was always too hard on himself and it was no different after this qualifying. You waited around for him, chatting with some of the team members while you did so to pass the time.

"Lando!", you waved, calling him so he could notice you.

"I need to go to my driver's room", he offered his hand out for you to hold and follow him.

Once you were inside, you wrapped your arms around Lando's neck, kissing his neck multiple times and rubbing his back.

"I can't believe I did that? Not even a rookie would've done that shitshow, it's like I forgot how to drive", Lando muttered, shaking his head.

"Everyone struggled with the grip Lando, they were either eating up their tires or squiding away", you reasoned with him, "I don't think any of the guys thought they had a good lap".

"Mine surely wasn't", Lando scoffed.

"Hey, look at me", you said sternly, cupping his face in your hands to make sure he wasn't looking elsewhere.

You had to let him come to you, but that didn't mean you couldn't give him a piece of your mind first.

"You have been with this team since you were a kid, Lando, and everyone inside this hospitality is rooting for you, bad day or good day, everyone has your back, and as well as you don't win on your own, you don't lose or get a bad result on your own. Everyone out there is supporting you and no one thinks you're a failure or a bad driver", you stated.

You knew what was going on inside his head, Lando reasoned with himself - there was no point in lying to you or saying that he wasn't feeling like that when you could practically read him like a book.

"You're only as good as your last race, Y/N that's how this sport works", Lando offered.

"Then let's make this one count - the weekend has barely begun", you rubbed his cheek.

"I have to go to debrief", Lando mumbled, looking down before he pressed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, thank you", he whispered, squeezing your wrists before kissing them too.

"I love you too, all of you and everything that you do", you winked before he left his driver's room.

As soon as all of his duties were taken care of, you went back to the hotel, deciding to stay in for the night after a long shower.

"Come here so I can play with your hair and magically pull away all of those bad thoughts going on inside there", you smiled, finally sitting down on the bed.

Lando didn't want to seem needy or clingy, but every time you reached for the body moisturiser to scoop some of it out and rub it on your skin, he felt himself deflate a little, having to wait a little more to be able to touch you.

Crawling to your hold, your boyfriend rested his head on your chest as his arms circled your waist, feeling your fingers do as you had told him.

"Do you think tomorrow will be better?", he muttered.

"I don't know for sure, but I hope so", you answered honestly, "you deserve a good result tomorrow, you deserve all the good things, love", you added.

"I don't deserve you", he mumbled, looking up at you.

"You do, Lando", you kissed his forehead.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me", he stated, "whether I deserve you or not is another ballgame, but I hope you never leave me".

"It's not on my plans, no", you chuckled despite the seriousness of your words, "do you know what is though? Sleep, because tomorrow you have a big day", you kissed his lips, "go to sleep, baby".

"I love you, baby - sweet dreams", Lando whispered.

"They always are when you're here with me", you murmured.

.

"Fucking hell", you groaned, "is he staying out?", you wondered outloud.

The team radio with the veredict came in quickly, deciding that the risk they would be getting into by continuing the race and potentially worsening whatever damage the car had was not worth the points that would be up for grabs. Like so, they would retire the car, so Lando jumped out of the car and crossed the track.

"He shouldn't have done that", you muttered, noticing the other people around you looking at you curiously. Most of them were paddock guests who you had never seen before, so you excused yourself as politely as you could, waiting for Lando to come back from the pitwall and into the garage.

He exchanged a few words with the team before he approached you.

"I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted - do you want me to fight anyone?", you tried to get a smile out of him.

"Sometimes these things happen, there was nothing I could do", he kissed your forehead, "they're bringing the car back but it seems to have not been that bad - I was worried about the suspension damage but it doesn't look too bad from what they can see on the computer", he offered, "I need to go to the media pen, lovie".

"Go go, I'll be here if you need anything", you smiled, feeling him squeeze your hand in his before he found the team member he was supposed to go with.

A couple of hours later, race qualifying rolled around and despite P5 still being a good position, you could see that Lando was struggling a little bit and he would surely blame himself on his lack of skills.

"Is he coming straight here or the media pen?", Ria asked you.

"I'm not sure", you mumbled, looking around to check for any signs of where your boyfriend would be headed.

When Lando came back to the garage, you were the first person he looked for.

"Hello hello", he said, squeezing your hand once more before greeting the rest of the group.

"That was not bad, P5 means a lot is up for grabs still", you tried, not really sensing the mood he was in which was unusual for you.

"It felt better yesterday, we still have to check about the changes we made and decided what to keep and what to undo", Lando offered without a prominent emotion on his tone.

"I'll be here when you're back", you told him.

"I still have the debrief and I'm staying as long as I can", he stated, "you can go to the hotel if you want to".

"I'll wait here", you kissed his cheek before letting him go.

His mood wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't the worst you had ever seen it, so you had to make do for now. Getting your book from your bag, you went up to find yourself a spot in the lounge since Ria told you they would be going back to the hotel.

"Are you ready to go?", Lando announced his presence a couple of hours later, stepping closer to you with his backpack on his back already.

"Yes", you said, putting the book back and getting up, "What is that?", you wondered as you pointed to the envelope on his hand.

"A fine for crossing the track - twenty-five thousand euros because I got out on my own, and it's that little if I don't do anything else again", he shook his head, "do you want to have dinner out or in the room?".

"Whichever way you prefer, handsome", you replied earnestly.

"Are you doing it because you feel pity for me? Is that why you're that quiet and following my lead to whatever I say?", he mused, letting his insecurities get the best of him, "because I told you, it happens and I'm fine".

"It could never be out of pity when it is, always, out of love, Lando", you smiled, pecking his lips and heading to the car so you could make your way back to the hotel.

.

Lando woke up earlier than he expected considering how tired he had been, sensing your even breathing pattern next to him. His mind filled with strategies, outcomes and potential situations that could arise, so he definitely wasn't sleeping until nightime.

"Good morning", you surprised him as he didn't think you were awake yet, your eyes greeting him as he turned around to face you.

"Good morning, lovie", he smiled, getting your hand from under the pillow and kissing your knuckles, "you're awake already?".

"Couldn't sleep anymore - you?", you mused.

"Same - means we can have some morning snuggles", Lando offered as he pulled you closer to him.

"Do you want to talk about the race?", you mumbled after you kissed his lips.

"You know me too well, don't you?", he chuckled, kissing you again while he traced patterns on your waist.

"We've been dating for nearly seven years - it would be a little weird if I didn't", you pursed your lips jokingly.

"I don't know, I keep thinking about all the things that can go wrong and what I can do in that situation - P5 isn't bad but I'm not sure I can extract all of it", he sighed.

"You're too hard on yourself", you mused, "there hasn't been a challenge that you didn't want to face, you never backed down from it and it's not something you're going to start doing now, baby", you stated.

"Do you think I have it?", he mused. He wasn't sure what it meant, but right now he didn't know anything.

"Of course you do, it will come to you, my love", you tried to build his confidence up, "you're such an amazing, skilled driver, you climbed up the ladder on your merit, and your team is backing you up. With some work there, that podium can be yours, Lando".

"I don't know", he tsked still.

"Well, I do know, so you'll have to trust me", you moved under the sheets, supporting your torso on your hands so you could hover over Lando, "this one is for when you'll start doubting yourself", you kissed above his left eyebrow, "this one is in case you need a little push", you kissed his right eyebrow, "this here is for good luck", you kissed his forehead, "this one here is because you are the best driver out there", you kissed his nose, "this one is for how much you deserve to be on that podium", you kissed his cheek, letting your eyelashes tickle him, "This is for the amazing person that you are", you kissed his jaw, "And this one is for how much I love you and how proud I am of you", you landed a kiss on his lips, letting yours melt into his to show you just how much you meant all those words.

Lando felt loved unconditionally. There were no better words to describe what he felt. No matter what he delivered on track, you were always there for him. To congratulate him when things went well and to comfort him when he needed. It didn't matter if he was P1 or P20, your love and affection was a constant in his life.

"I never want to know what life is like without you by my side", Lando cupped your cheek, rubbing the skin.

"I'm not going anywhere", you promised.

You stayed in bed until the alarm rang, then getting ready to go to the track. Lando kissed your temple before he went to the debrief meeting, leaving you to grab a cool drink to deal with the Miami heat.

"I love you, be safe out there", you smiled, kissing over his left eyebrow.

"I could do with a little more luck", he admitted, blood rushing to his cheeks as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his forehead like you had that morning in bed.

Lando continued getting ready while you occupied your spot on the garage, giving him a little wave before he went to the grid.

"He seems hopeful today", Mark nudged your shoulder as he sat next to you, "I don't suppose you have something to do with it", he smirked.

"What do you mean?", you wondered.

"Yesterday he wasn't exactly cheerful, but he walked into the debrief saying that today was a day full of opportunities", he clarified.

"Just helped him see the other side of the coin", you blushed at his assumption.

The race got off to a bumpy start, making you hiss as soon as you watched the cars get through unharmed, "that was a close call", you muttered.

Just as Lando had set the fastest lap, you watched Max go outside of the track slightly and hit the cone and later giving Oscar first place since he needed to pit, "the car pace looks good, doesn't it?", Jon told you.

"Oscar is coming to the pit and Max is right behind Lando", you muttered as you heard your boyfriend's radio and watched the mechanics get ready with the new tires for Oscar.

By lap thirty, still under the safety car, Lando was the one to pit and you couldn't help but do the math, "He's going to come out at the front, isn't he?", you looked at Jon and Mark, wanting to check your calculations right.

"Yes, look at him go", Jon pointed to the screen.

From then on, your heart beat as fast as it ever had, your eyes focusing on the gap between Lando and Max as your leg bounced up and down.

"Y/N, you should take it easy", Jon said, "you're going to work yourself up and it won't be good", he noticed. The way your eyes watched the race combined with the heat, your innate lack of water intake and the way your blood pressure seemed to be going, his worry was genuine.

"Mas just said on his radio that he's struggling with his car", Mark said as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Don't jinx it, don't jinx it", you whispered as you looked at everyone else around you.

Everyone shared the nerves you felt, everyone held on to see what was happening while keeping an eye on Oscar's brilliant drive after all that came his way.

"Should have dated an accountant", you mumbled before getting up, pacing around the small area once you made sure you weren't annoying people too much and not blocking anyone's view, "my heart wouldn't be like this", you took a deep breath as the last five laps warning came on the screen.

"Love how Oscar is the one with the fastest lap all the way down there - it's such a shame, he deserved more", you pointed out in an attempt of distracting yourself.

"Three laps!", someone yelled.

As you saw the rush to the checkered flag and your boyfriend's car be the first one to cross it, the garage and pitwall erupted in celebration.

"HE WON! HE WON! LANDO WON!", you yelled, crying into your hands after the initial shock wore off, Mark and Jon hugging you as they celebrated, "this is amazing? Aren't you amazed?", you yelled.

Lando's screams and laughs filled your ears as you listened closely to your boyfriend's first reactions after crossing the finish line on his first win, the pout being replaced with a massive grin even though you were still crying happy tears, "we did it, Will! We did it!", he boasted.

Once you were allowed, you joined the rest of the team and ran to Parc Fermé, stopping by Natalie once she spotted you for a quick hug.

"Will! Will! Will!", you called your boyfriend's race engineer once the team kindly let you go to the front, "Congratulations!", you hugged him, "I'm so happy!!", you squealed as he laughed.

Your phone rang with a FaceTime call coming from Max, "Hiiiii!", you beamed.

"Are you at the front?", he asked, "he did it, Y/N, he fucking did it! I'm going to add Adam here, just let me go here...", he tapped his screen until you noticed a new square forming on your phone.

"Hiii!", Adam and Cisca accepted the call quickly, "Y/N! Where are you now?", Cisca asked.

"I'm at the front here, slightly on the side!", you yelled as you showed them the number four car park in front of the number one plaque, "Look at him!", you squealed.

Lando was quick to get out safely, celebrating his first position and getting weighed in before taking his helmet off, leaving it on the ground and diving into the team who congratulated him enthusiastically.

"He's so happy and he has his big smile that makes his eyes crinkly!", you cheered as you stood next to Mark, making sure you didn't get shoved or pushed around too much.

"She and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

"He's very lucky to have you, Y/N", Adam agreed before you saw Flo and Cisca.

"Lando No wins no more, hey? Y/N, have you seen him? He must be so ecstatic!", Flo offered.

"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered, "I think the guys are putting him back down", you mused.

"Dude! Broken Rib time!", Zak yells once Lando was back on the floor, hugging your boyfriend before Andrea did the same.

"Now make room for the missus - she also gets to hug him all in one piece", the italian engineer encouraged while he helped you with the barrier.

Seeing Lando was enough to get your eyes to water again, not caring about hitting your phone on his back once he pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face on your neck.

"I'm so proud of you, baby, you drove brilliantly out there", you let out, kissing his skin before cupping his face with both hands once Zak took your phone away from you, "you're a race winner, Lan, you're incredible and I love you so so so much", you told him before smashing your lips on his.

"Did the microphone pick that up?", Zak asked everyone on FaceTime after waving at them.

"It did - they're the cutest, I told you! I'm team Lando-Y/N until the end of time", Flo chuckled as she watched you and Lando look at eachother as if there was no one else around.

"I love you, babygirl", your boyfriend gave you a big smile, "this is for the team, for my family, my friends and for you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N!", he said as he walked back with the FIA staff member that was guiding him to the cool down room.

Getting your phone back, the mechanics let you stand at the front with Will who gave you your phone back, "I'm back, the crybaby is back", you stated, wiping your cheeks.

"Mum is no better, Y/N, don't worry about that", Flo joked as you watched Cisca crying too.

"You and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.

"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered.

At the podium celebrations, you grabbed a good spot to watch your boyfriend finally go on the highest step, accepting a hug from everyone who came to offer their congratulation on your boyfriend's achievement.

"You do know we are watching on TV, right?", Max wondered as you waited for the call for Lando to step on the podium.

"Of course I know - I'd feel bad for you if you were actually paying attention to what I've pointing the camera at -, I just need your company because I think I've cried all the tears I have in me and if you're not here with me, even if figuratively, I might fall apart again and that won't be good", you reasoned as you switched the camer around to show your face again.

Hearing the anthem and watching Lando raise his face up to the sun added magic to the serene moment until they sprayed the champagne between them, Lando saving some from his bottle to try and get the rest of the team too.

After all the media content was take care of, you and Lando headed back to the hotel ao you could get ready for dinner.

"You have a really big smile on your face, Y/N", Lando pointed out as you showered together.

"Look who's saying it", you blushed, grabbing his jaw so you could kiss him, "I'm so happy and so proud of you Lando, it doesn't fit inside my heart or my body what I'm feeling right now".

"I can't believe it still", he mused as his hands found themselves on your naked waist, "thank you for being here - today and every day you're with me", he joined your foreheads.

Dinner was lovely and you left to the party straight after, meeting up with Max once you were inside and in the reserved area. You danced all night along attached to your boyfriend who didn't seem to want to let you go, teeth nipping at the skin on your neck.

"Do you want another one, baby?", Lando asked and you shook your head no, kissing his lips.

"I'm good, Lan", you smiled, twirling him and kissing his lips.

"You two could stop fawning over eachtoher, you know? Y/N didn't rest until the whole paddock was informed of your win, as if they hadn't watched it happen and now this?", he chuckled playfully, "you two make me sick!".

"Can't help it if I'm proud of Lando!", you stuck your tongue out at him.

When you left the club to go back to the hotel, Lando walked with you on his arms with your back to his chest, allowing you to walk on your legs still but his rush setting the pace you were doing it with.

"Lando!", you squealed as you balanced yourself, holding on to his arms like your life depended on them "we're are we going?".

"I'm taking you to our room, put the no disturb sign outside and have my way with you in any way you allow me to", he smirked

"Our flight leaves in a couple of hours", you reasoned, a big smile on your face mirroring your boyfriend's.

"Then I'm going to take advantage of those hours we have left - I can't wait until we get home and what I want to do with you is not mile high club appropriate", he winked, "I'm a race winner, babygirl, and the celebrations are just getting started", your boyfriend said, tapping your butt once again.

[slayfics]

Spring cleaning with Katsuki.

500 words~

You tied off another large bag and dragged it from your shared bedroom with Katsuki to the living room. Katsuki had insisted the house had become too packed and you both needed to take time to rid the house of old things to donate.

Katsuki was deep in the closet, pulling out more forgotten stuff when you walked back into the bedroom.

"The hell?" he exclaimed, pulling out an old stuffed bear. "You still have this thing?" He said astonished, staring at the aged stuffed animal in his hands. Its appearance was well-loved as evidenced by its flat hair and scratches over its beaded eyes.

Katsuki instantly recognized the bear. It was the one he had given you back at U.A. during the school festival. He and Eijiro made it a point to compete in every carnival game. Katsuki beat him and won the bear as a prize. Declaring he didn't need such a dumb thing; he tossed it to you.

"Of course I kept it. You gave it to me," you replied.

"Tch- I don't think gave is the right word. I pawned it off to you. It's just a dumb bear- let's get rid of it," he said, tossing it in the bag to go to the donations.

"NO!" You yelled and dived for the bear, pulling it out of the bag.

Katsuki was startled at your intense reaction, "That thing means that much to you?" He chuckled.

"Don't make fun of me! I know it's just a dumb bear- and you didn't really pick it out for me but... out of everyone you chose to hand it to me so...," You trailed off looking at the bear getting lost in the memories of that day at the school festival. You knew Katsuki was not vocal with his emotions even then- so the fact that he handed you the bear instead of tossing it in the garbage meant something.

Now years later in a serious relationship- the bear symbolizes so much to you about your past together.

"Yeah yeah- I did have the hots for you back then too or whatever. Keep the ugly thing," he said waving his hand and diving back into the closet.

"Don't you talk shit about Mr. Bear again I'll smack you," You teased.

"HAH! Like to see ya try- come on help me brat," He retorted, and the two of you spent the rest of the day cleaning.

The following day, you were off work before Katsuki- and you hated to admit it but- you found yourself excited to come home to the cleaned and refreshed place.

You made your way to the front door, lugging all your work things in hand. Turning the key, and bumping the door open with your hip, you screamed at a darkened figure in the living room.

Your work belongings rained from your hands as you shrieked and jumped. When your breathing settled and your eyes adjusted, you realized what the figure was.

In the living room sat an oversized stuffed bear, almost the same size as a human, with a letter attached around its neck.

A warm smile spread on your lips as you unfolded the letter:

This time, I picked it out just for you, brat.

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou

[usagifuyusummer]

Hello, sorry it took me so long (6 days), but here's your request @candyglumboy. I was experimenting a lot on these honestly.

From first to last in order, First memories/ Mortality/ Ascension (or an imitation of heaven?). I'm still unsure if these are the appropriate titles for these pieces lol.

Thanks for requesting me by the way! It was fun practice admittedly. (I still suck ass at backgrounds though.)

As usual, my insane ramblings below and some close-ups and concept art (will change if formatting is fucked up).

Oh yeah, I've been offline a lot because I'm so busy with uni stuff and... unavoidable family matters..., plus all of these took me a while to finish. I was brainstorming a lot on their request and these are the ones I've chosen to finalize.

I've decided to go with the concept of life, death, and rebirth on their request to just see Peri hugging Timmy lmao, because why not? It was to make me fulfil this request in a more enjoyable and exciting way.

I was experimenting and practicing a lot on understanding the Fairly Oddparents style in these pieces. My attempts are still far from perfect obviously, I mean the second one (Mortality) took the longest for me to finish just because I couldn't translate 3D poses into the 2D artstyle very well lol. (The second one was the hardest to make it look... well alright/pretty to me. It looks like a mess of haphazardous colors... I am terrible at coloring. I think I'll share the other scrapped poses later.)

Honestly, I struggled and got frustrated a lot with finishing these but still enjoyed the process. Here I'll list my inspirations for each pieces;

First memories - xblubotx (i won't tag them because i don't want to disturb): Their small Peri/Poof and teen Timmy fanart pieces continues to inspire me to this day. And yes!!! I see that they have made More Timmy fanart!!! Thank you xblubotx. I will continue to appreciate those in silence.

Mortality - I was thinking of loss and death a lot on this one. I thought what kind of embrace that shows this feeling? So, I used the famous, Ivan the terrible and his son painting, for the pose. I wanted to challenge myself if I could translate the 3D pose into 2D, so yeah, that's the final result... It looks like a mess of vomited red colors... I am sorry if you're squeamish towards blood by the way. I wanted to see if I could also attempt to draw blood streaming. I still think I have a long ways to go in terms of skill... For now, enjoy the nuclear baby about to explode because of overwhelming feelings <3 <3 <3!

Ascension (or an imitation of heaven) - @bevony: I hope I did not miscredit you, as I used your Fairy Timmy design for this one! I changed it a little according to my preferences/headcannon though. Still, I love their Fairy Timmy design! I like the hot pink Channel boots that they gave Timmy lol. (And the very comfortable formal fashion.) Keep on slaying~ My Fairy Timmy design will probably be heavily influenced from them when I get to that eventually... Tell me if you don't want me to, I'll back off. For now, I'll be enjoying the others fanarts of Timmy quietly.

(Additionally, my phone is slowly dying from all of these creative projects that I'm doing currently lol. Agh, I wish I had a drawing tablet or a better device to satisfy these creative urges....)

Again, thank you for the request! I'm okay with requests as I'm still not confident with my creative skills at this moment lol. So, admittedly I view these as a challenge or for practice. I can't fulfil them quickly though, as I have multiple responsibilities to do in real life. Still, I don't mind them once in a while.

I hope you like what I've done here. Sorry if it doesn't fulfil your vision candyglumboy. I'll keep on practicing my creative skills.

So yeah, I think that's all I wanted to share in the post this time. I'm still at season 3 on the FOP rewatch by the way. I am very excited to get to the specials eventually. Yeehaw!!!

Here's some concepts and close-ups of the pieces below this long massive yapping session lmao. Thank you for reading. Have a nice day <3

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Genshin Cuddles HCs: Part the Second (Kaeya, Dainsleif, Zhongli)

Is it any coincidence that I'm tired again while doing cuddles head canons? Probably not. I imagine I get really clingy and cuddly towards the end of the day.

But apparently not as tired lol

CW: A little angst, fluff

A/N: As per the last one, reader is presumed to be short because this 100% self insert

kaeya x gn!reader, Zhognli x gn!reader, Dainsleif x gn!reader

(PS. If you want tagged for certain kinds of content, hit me up in the asks. I'll be happy to put together some taglists)

Kaeya

To be honest, on first starting to date Kaeya, you'd think that he would be a huge tease (I mean, it is Kaeya)

But when it comes to stuff like cuddling and mid winter snuggling, it's usually quite the opposite.

After all, Kaeya is far more serious and earnest, I think, than he allows himself to let on.

Cuddles with Kaeya come in three forms

The first is him big spooning and you little spooning. He absolutely loves being the big spoon. You're so small in his arms and it feels wonderful to know that you trust him like that.

When big spooning he really loves to bury his face in your hair and trace little gentle shapes over your skin

Other times things are reversed. He really never thought that he'd enjoy being the little spoon, but he trusts you without reservation. These are moments where he has no responsibility, instead just lets you take care of him

He frequently falls asleep like this, which really warms the heart. It's moments like these where he'll let you take off his eyepatch and set it to the side

What he doesn't know is that when you do, you usually press a little kiss to the scar

Then there's the third kind

These are almost exclusively late at night, when even the strongest masks start to lower.

Sometimes he'll reach out for you, pulling you into his embrace. He'll hold you like you're fragile, like he's afraid you'll break. it's in these moments where he'll whisper in your ear the most genuine words of love

They would be the warmest moments, but in those moments you hear a truth he never speaks. He's terrified of losing you, that you--like everyone else in his life--will not find him worthy of keeping

All you can do in lose moments is lay your head on his chest, letting him wrap you in his arms, until he's convinced that not only are you still here, but that you're not going to leave him

Dainsleif

Dainsleif, I think, is surprisingly good at cuddling

I was honestly surprised in 3.5 when we saw a very gentle side of him and I think that would apply to his significant other

Seriously, the man has lost everything. He's gonna treat his s/o right, no matter what

For Dain, and for you as well, cuddling is a way to relieve stress

It really doesn't matter the position either, as long as you're sharing warmth on cold nights

You can't count the number of times you've curled up against a rock--though you find that's not the most comfortable spot for really anything--laying your head on his chest, just listening to his heart beat

It's just as often that you find his head in your lap, blond hair splayed out while you rub circles into his scalp. The touch is soothing, grounding him in the moment

Of course, there are times when you curl up under a blanket, limbs tangled together, pressed so close you can't tell where you end and Dain begins. Those are almost desperate in nature, as if warding on the ever encroaching nature of time. It's in these moments that Dain finds himself scared, and intent on branding these memories in his mind

Zhongli

Compared to Dain and Kaeya, cuddles with Zhongli are the fluffiest things on the planet

They usually happen at two times of day, with some exceptions

It's not uncommon to start the day with cuddles in bed. You'll wake up to find a pair of strong arms holding you close and a pair of molten gold eyes watching you sleep.

It never fails to make you blush, because he looks at you like you're the entire world. Which is really rather flattering given the power and status of the man currently giving you this ridiculously soft smile

The other time you two cuddle is at the end of the day. Sometimes it's inside by the fire. Other times it's outside looking at the stars, but you almost always end up wrapped up in each other

So many nights, you're tucked under is arm, or laying your head on his lap while you listen to the stories from the past or random every day advice

It's really soothing. He's got the beautiful deep voice that is almost magnetic.

The exception to the rule is when you're upset. There are times when something happened during the day, or you wake up after a nightmare and all you want is to be held and reassured. And he's good at that too. Grounding you, centering you.

Of course you do the same for him, though, given his personality it is very rare. But there are times when the past catches up to him, where an event he is incapable of forgetting weighs on his mind. He's found that your touch, your embrace, you holding him the same way he loves to hold you, makes it a little better

[sidekick-hero]

First Love, Second Chance

(steddie | teen (for this part) | tags: exes to lovers, canon divergence (Eddie lives), future fic (set 2001) | Part 1)

Steve stood at the entrance, his hands buried deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched slightly against the winter chill still clinging to his skin. The woman at the front desk greeted him with a smile so bright it could've doubled as a flashlight. "Mr. Harrington, what a pleasure to have you. You can leave your coat with me, and Joanne over here will lead you to your table. We’ll be starting in ten minutes, but feel free to get settled and order any drink you’d like — it’s included in the entrance fee."

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer enthusiasm in her voice. That’s a well-practiced customer service smile, Steve thought, as he shrugged off his heavy coat. He’d bet the contents of his one-bedroom apartment downtown that she was already dreaming of the moment she could get out of here, change into something comfortable, pour a big glass of wine, and let her face relax into something more human.

Steve knew all about jobs that drained you down to the marrow. He was a kindergarten teacher, after all. The difference was, at least his work came with the occasional hug and finger painting masterpiece. Besides, he’d spent enough time hiding behind his exhaustion to know that it wasn’t just the job. Robin had been right — he was hiding. And here he was, exposed under the bright lights of some cheesy blind date event, about to sit across from a stranger and try to pretend he was open and available.

He handed his coat to the smiling woman and turned toward Joanne, who had been pointed out to him. "Hi, I’m Steve Harrington," he introduced himself, offering a smile that he hoped didn’t look as forced as he felt. "I was told you’d show me to my table."

Her eyes flicked over him, not too obvious, but not quite subtle either. It had been a while since anyone had looked at him like that. Most days, his life was a blur of finger paints, snot stains, and explaining why sharing was important. Flattering, he thought. Strange, but flattering.

Joanne’s lips curled into a friendly smile. "Of course, Mr. Harrington. Let me check my list real quick to see where we’ve put you." Her finger, perfectly manicured, scanned down a clipboard. She paused, then grinned. "Ah-ha! Found you. Follow me, and I'll take you right to your seat."

Steve followed her, his steps feeling heavier than they should. He could almost hear Robin’s voice in his head, teasing him: Just go, have fun, stop being so damn serious, Steve!

Right, Robin, he thought. Fun. As he moved through the room, he tried to shake off the creeping dread. He was here, wasn’t he? That had to count for something.

The room was a maze of small tables for two, clustered together in narrow aisles, each one its own little island in a sea of forced intimacy. Steve found his table, the one they’d assigned to him, and sank into the chair with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in his chest. Okay, step one, taken. He glanced around, noting that his blind date hadn’t arrived yet. He wondered who they’d paired him with, what kind of person would be willing to spend hours - potentially very awkward hours - with a virtual stranger.

Robin had practically shoved the registration form in his face, a little too gleeful about the whole thing. He remembered the questions — his past relationships, his hopes and dreams, what he was looking for in a partner. The usual stuff, he supposed. But then there was the unexpected question: was he looking for a man or a woman? It had caught him off guard for a moment. Progressive, he’d thought. Robin assured him the agency was very queer friendly, so he’d ticked both boxes, “men” and “women.” Why not? Life was complicated, and so was he.

He flagged down a waiter and ordered a beer, then let his eyes wander around the room as he waited. He watched the faces of the people around him, wondering if they felt as lonely and unlovable as he sometimes did. Or maybe not. Maybe that was just him, and the ghost of Eddie, still riding shotgun in his mind, his voice as dramatic as ever.

Five years together — his “formative years,” as Robin liked to call them — had left their mark. It didn’t matter that they’d been apart longer than they’d been together; time had a way of playing tricks like that. Some days, it felt like Eddie was still right there with him, leaning in close to whisper old secrets and inside jokes, making him laugh at the worst possible moments. Other days, it felt like he’d been gone a lifetime, the memories fading at the edges like an old photograph.

Steve took a sip of his beer, letting the cold liquid steady his nerves. He was doing this, trying. Maybe this one would stick.

Steve’s eyes drifted around the room, lingering on faces, searching for clues. He spotted a woman nervously tapping her fingers against her wine glass, a man adjusting his tie for the tenth time, another couple already deep in conversation, leaning in like they’d known each other for years. And then, just as he was about to turn back to his beer, he saw him.

His heart stopped. Or maybe it just skipped a beat — whatever it was, it felt like a punch to the gut. Eddie Munson.

Part 2

A few words about this: I wanted to try something new, so I'll be posting a new part here every day until it's done and then I put it on AO3. This actually started as backstory to my @steddiesmuttyseptember (follow this awesome blog for smutty goodness!) fill for make-up sex but now I'm at 5k and still no sexy times. Also, is exes to lovers make-up sex? Anyway, I'm loving the trope so I do what I want 😅

Part 2 will be up tomorrow, I promise.

[4dkellysworld]

After deciding 'it is done'

This is more of a manifestation themed post (it's a draft from March when I spontaneously felt like writing it but didn't post it) because I felt like it but I'd appreciate if I didn't get any asks about manifestation* (unless I change my mind later) cos I'll share what I can and there's a lot of material available already! You can see my past post on this topic here. For more posts on it, see @4dbarbie-archive and realisophie's posts here and here and there's also some over at @ndjournal in the experience sharing tag.

*Also because I don't want to send mixed messages to the readers of this blog. I see conscious manifestation as a way to challenge & break limitations and concepts from the mind, not to get things in the world (kinda like Neo learning to bend the spoon in the Matrix if you get me lol). The latter will only pull you deeper into ego and the world, which isn't conducive to self-realization (if that's your goal) if you're focused on satisfying ego and the worldly life. If that makes sense and you resonate and agree with that, then we are on the same page but not everyone is and that's okay too, just do what feels right to you. Just sharing my reasoning :)

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I've been reading this book called Parallel Universes of Self because I read the author Frederick Dodson had an interesting reality shifting experience. I didn't expect to read info on manifestation but they are pretty much the same. I have a few books of his that I'm skimming through out of curiosity and there's some interesting stuff (I might share some other things later, he doesn't just talk about manifestation, but also consciousness, reality and even non-duality).

I thought I'd share the below excerpt because it's explained really well and might help some others. It's also a nice succinct summary of what Ada and Soph talked about for materialization/manifestation as well. I can remember pretty much 95% of the things I've ever "manifested" were from when I acted the way he described after I had decided "it is done". It's easier to do this for things you don't care about because you just end up forgetting about it entirely and then it shows up and you're like 'oh yeah!! nice'.

In the hours, days and weeks after simply rest in the new viewpoint, rest in the fulfilled reality. This means that you don’t try to “make it happen” because you have already claimed it as real. You don’t affirm, visualize, repeat or wait for it. You don’t hope for it to come in some future. Because you have claimed it as already real you don’t even think about it much either. You don’t ask when, how, where it will show up. Instead you simply do what offers itself to you throughout the day, and this will involve commonplace activities. Daily life continues in a natural manner without neediness or lack. Once in awhile you may want to re-feel the body sense of the chosen reality, and enjoy what you have claimed as true, but often not even that is necessary. Furthermore you needn’t be “acting as if” the desired reality is manifest, for that still implies separation. Simply cease to behave in a way that presupposes that it is not already so. You may refuse to ascribe relevance or importance to any events that seem to contradict your newly chosen reality. From the new viewpoint such events may still exist and come up but they are no longer relevant enough to be reacted to and interacted with. They may be the way things are at the moment, but they are no longer the way you are. The corresponding physical manifestation will appear when you stop needing it, chasing after it, looking for it but are instead willingly and lovingly identified with it…not for the sake of “making it manifest” *, but for the sake of experiencing its joy in the here, now and today. *Because trying to make it happen/manifest reinforces the idea/belief that it isn't

This is the same as what 4dbarbie said about getting ego out of the way or as Lester Levenson said, let go and let God. Just let it happen and stop trying to control the process because the more you try, the more you reinforce the fact that it isn't already so. Basically stop putting in effort once you know it is true, just continue knowing with calm and ease that it is the way you want it. Ada also said here:

If you have thoughts like "I need to say my affirmations", "I need to check my state", you're not living in the end but still desiring. When you're able to look at the thing you desire as being something that was once a dream, but now only a memory - you've entered the state of the wish fulfilled. When desire turns into identity, you know you've succeeded in fulfilling yourself.

Yes we're conditioned to think we need to work hard and put effort to earn things in the world but when it comes to manifesting, this sort of mentality will only sabotage and hinder your success. You can literally just decide you have it and then never look back. This sort of mindset can take a bit of time and practice to get used to because it is not something we're used to but the more you practice, the easier it gets.

Here is an excerpt from an astral projection book (I think it's from The Illusion of Method?) I thought was really apt at describing this too. He's talking about AP but you can apply it to manifesting or pretty much anything as well.

Unless you are masochistic, I ask you to reconsider the painful idea of obsessing about time. Bear in mind that results will come whenever they have to, and counting the minutes won't make the outcome arrive faster. It's best if you just forget about it, and accept that it is something that you can't control. You must be patient—most of the time the desired results arrive immediately after giving up control of time. If you are frustrated and/or are afraid of failure, then it means you believe you are in control—and this translates into the feeling that you are responsible for both positive and negative results. Well then, stop thinking that way! Exempting yourself from responsibility is the best course of action there is. As seen in the previous chapter, those who project on command are the ones who couldn’t care less about AP. But the more you obfuscate yourself, the lesser your chances of success —and trust me, you won’t want to get trapped in that vicious cycle. Astral projection works when you stop worrying about failure because you trust that it will happen, whether you “do” something or not.

It’s the same thing: just in the same way that being hasty for sleep to occur keeps us wakeful and alert, being expectant over the OBE will keep us caged in the physical body. If the mind is constantly thinking about the goal, it can easily enter a state of expectancy* and impatience. In such state, the mind is no longer relaxed because expectancy is a state of unrest. This form of tension is what hinders the outcome—thus, the key to being relaxed (i.e., essentially lacking mental tension) is to forget about the goal entirely. If you don’t have the goal in mind you don’t enter a state of expectancy, and therefore you are free from mental tension. *expectancy is the same energy as trying to make something happen.. reinforcing the idea/belief that it isn't so

So, exempt yourself from responsibility means there's nothing more to do because ego is not in control and can do nothing.

[omniuravity]

Helluverse During Rut/Mating Season Headcanons

Tags: @bloodypeachblog , @hazelfoureyes , @pinkhimecat , @je-suis-eternel-jennie, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy

Thank you guys for the overwhelming positivity from the last one! Here's another one!

Angel Dust:

Angel doesn't really talk about mating season much, unless it's for his films. Val, of course, finds it sexy and makes Angel work anyway.

Like most male spiders, Angel tends to mate with multiple partners during mating season unless he's in a relationship.

Angel loves dancing with you during this time of year. He finds it brings himself closer to you.

Angel tries to make sure you don't feel pressured to have sex with him during his mating season. He wants you to feel comfortable and loved.

Angel is pretty submissive in bed despite him being the one wanting to mate with you, though expect him to want it a bit more rough.

"Come on, baby. I'll be gentle at first, then we can get to the kinky stuff~"

Adam:

An angel's rut or heat isn't nearly as intense as a demon's, unless you're as sexual as Adam.

Adam is normally very possessive, but he gets extra possessive of you when it's mating season. Another man can't even look at you without him blowing up.

Adam likes to help make a little nest for the two of you. Adam also likes to bring you shiny things for the nest.

Adam likes to play his guitar for you as a way to remind you how much he loves you.

Adam is normally pretty rough in bed, while he's rutting it's so much harder and deeper.

"Chill out, I'm gonna take really good care of you, babe~"

Blitzø:

Blitzø's heat is pretty intense. If he somehow has a partner you are not leaving his apartment.

He tries to cook for you, but unfortunately isn't very good. He always insists on cooking for you since he does most of the work in bed (or so he says).

Surprisingly, enough he does enjoy those gentle moments after sex with you. He'll never admit it though.

Speaking of gentle moments, he loves to cuddle. He will cuddle you like a teddy bear. If he starts to cry gently rub his back and hold him.

Blitzø is a VERY kinky motherfucker. He's open to trying every kink once. Any kink you can think of, he's tried it. Yep, even that one.

"Get down, it's time for some quality time with daddy~"

Stolas:

Stolas' rut is very different than most Goetias. He doesn't get as violent as other bird-like demons, but he's still very defensive of his partner.

He brings you all the shiny things for the nest you two share. He also doesn't mind being presented with shiny things.

Speaking of the nest, it consists of blankets, the shiny things, and his feathers.

He also enjoys cooking for you. He is much better than Blitzø, of course.

He's going to bottom. There is no question about it. He's also really loud when the two of you have sex

"I want to take this slow for you. I love you and want you to feel as loved as I do."

Verosika:

Verosika's heat is very intense due to her being a succubus. Though she doesn't let that change her demeanor in the bedroom.

She does have to stop performing for the public while she deals with her heat.

Even though she doesn't perform in public during her heat, she does sing for you.

She loves leaving marks on your body. Scratch marks, kisses, and bite marks will litter your body for days.

Verosika always tops, period. She takes good care of her submissives, though.

"You're so pretty, well not as pretty as me, but I'm still gonna take care of you, baby~"