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#mutuals. but the idiot anons they get. and i hope that some
darehearts · 13 days
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people need to stop hating female muses for things they'd praise their male muses for ;^)
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monzabee · 9 months
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déjà vu (beyoncé’s version) – ln4
masterlist
Summary: The one where a bad prank leads to you and Lando exploring an option you thought was not an option.
Pairing: lando norris x bestfriend!reader (nicknamed Tink)
Word Count: 5.2k
Warnings: smut elements but no actual smut, cursing, pining and of course fluff!
Request: “Haiiii. I love your style of writing Lando and feel like you would 100% do a request justice to scratch the itch in my brain Reader and him have been childhood friends, mutual pining with some sexual tension but never crossed lines other than a new years kiss with friends etc. So reader ends up training and qualifying as a physio/masseuse and travelling with Lando bc fun besties on tour together yay! Thinking she ends up getting to know his body really well from that and has to massage some intimate area- tension builds blah. They have a cosy night in together after front row quali to prep for the race, face masks cuddles bc really physically comfortable together and then some confessions happen. After this going out to celebrate home race (not jinxing tomorrow!!) and reader ends up dancing with another driver, Lando gets jealous fully opens up and they go home together (as much detail on that as you feel comfortable with) No probs if it’s something you don’t feel inspired to write! Pls continue writing whatever you love because I love to read your stuff!!”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! am i back after a literal month of no fics?? i hope so!! thank you so much for being patient with me you guysi i appreciate it, and i just want to say that this was the first time i wrote for lando (and you can definitely thank @userlando and her lando brainrot posts for that) and i’m kind of obsessed!! so as always, thank you to the anon for the request, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Being friends with Lando has resulted in both of you getting in trouble way too many times, you realise. The most recent case? The both of you ended up in a supply closet nearby the Aston Martin hospitality, hiding from a very, very, angry Spaniard. The close proximity and the limited space wouldn’t have been a big issue, for if Lando wasn’t looking at you with that look in his eyes. Under normal other circumstances, your reaction would’ve been much more different to the one you give him now – which is a glare that shows him you are not happy with the situation the both of you are in.
You’re about to scold him, but the words on your tongue quickly die as he presses his index finger to your lips. “I know you’re about to yell at me,” he whispers as he tries to keep his voice as low as possible, “but I really don’t want to be found right now.”
“Then maybe you should’ve thought about that before, you bloody idiot.” You hiss while slapping his hand away, which wins you a mock pout in return. “Why would you play that song every time he walked into a room?”
“It’s his name,” Lando tries to reason, “I thought he’d be used to it by now!”
Here’s the sitch. Lando, being the absolute prankster he is, decided to play ‘Fernando’ every time his former teammate entered into a room that morning – which resulted in the Spaniard becoming more and more annoyed with him until he snapped and Lando had to find himself a hiding place. How did you get roped into this, you may ask? You have absolutely no idea, other than your best friend dragging you into a nearby storage closet as you were walking back to the McLaren hospitality after meeting up with some of your friends for a cup of coffee. And now? The two of you are stuck inside a closet which is obviously too small for you both, and Lando has to bend his neck in an uncomfortable position.
“Lando,” you whisper in an attempt to keep your voice down, “don’t bend your head like that, you’ll strain something.”
“Well it’s not exactly comfortable, Tink.” He grimaces as one of the shelves hit his neck, which causes him to let out a low groan.
Ignoring the nickname he’s used for years, you motion him to move lower. “Just– let me see, okay?”
He begrudgingly nods as he bends his body towards you to accommodate you. You let your fingers run across his skin to find any knots along his shoulders. He lets out another low groan, but this one is more appreciative as you work some of the knots your fingers end up finding.
You watch as Lando’s expression changes from painful discomfort to relief as your fingers work their magic on his tense muscles. For a brief moment, it's just the two of you in the confined space, and you almost get lost in the comfortable silence. “Feels good,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I swear you have magic hands or something.”
You let out a breathy chuckle, “I just know your body, Lando.” After realising the words that come out of your mouth, your face flushes with embarrassment at the unintended implication of your words and you scramble to add, “Not like that, I didn’t mean–”
He smirks playfully, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, really? My body, huh? You think about my body often?” he teases, his hands squeezing your waist – and being lost in the moment, you don’t even know how they ended up there.
Your cheeks grow even hotter, and you feel your heart rate quicken. “No, that's not what I meant,” you stammer, trying to regain your composure, “and you know it’s basically my job to think about, you know?”
The mischievous glint in his eyes shine brightly as he decides to play dumb, “To think about what, baby?”
Your heart skips a beat at his teasing, and you can't help but let out a small laugh, trying to hide your embarrassment. “Don't be ridiculous, Lando,” you retort, trying to act cool despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I meant knowing your body like an expert, considering the fact that you pull a muscle every time you decide to do a physical activity.”
He chuckles, and his hands, still resting on your waist, give you a playful squeeze. "Sure, sure, Tink," he replies, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "But let's be honest, it's not just my body you know well. You practically read my mind too."
You roll your eyes, trying to playfully push him away. "Oh, please. You're not that hard to figure out."
Lando leans in a little closer, his grin still evident. "Is that so? Then tell me, oh expert of Lando Norris, what am I thinking right now?"
You raise an eyebrow, not falling for his trick. "You're probably thinking that you got away with the Fernando prank and now you owe me big time, your brain is empty most of the time."
He smirks, impressed by your response. "You're good, Tink. But you're right, I do owe you one. What can I do to make it up to you?"
You pause, the closeness between the two of you making it difficult to think clearly. "Well, for starters, maybe you can stop dragging me into your pranks and getting us into trouble," you suggest with a hint of a smile. “And I don’t know, maybe take pole for me, you know?”
As the playful banter continues, you both seem to forget about the predicament you're in. The confined space of the closet no longer feels suffocating; instead, it becomes a haven for shared laughter and camaraderie.
Just as the two of you are lost in the moment, the closet door suddenly opens, and you both freeze. The angry Spaniard stands before you once again, but this time, his expression has softened, seeing you and Lando in a surprisingly intimate moment.
"Am I interrupting something?" Fernando asks, his tone amused.
Your face turns beet red, and Lando lets out a nervous chuckle. "Oh, hey there. Just having a chat, you know."
But Fernando raises an eyebrow, still looking amused. "In a supply closet?"
You and Lando exchange a sheepish glance, realizing how the situation must appear to Fernando. "Well, we kind of got caught up in the moment," you admit, hoping he doesn't read too much into it.
Fernando chuckles, and there's a warm glint in his eyes. "I see. Well, it's none of my business, but you might want to find a less cramped place to chat next time."
You nod in agreement, grateful that Fernando seems to be taking the situation lightly. "You're right. We'll keep that in mind," you say, trying to sound casual.
Lando adds with a grin, "Yeah, and we promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on." But he’s quick to correct himself when you give him a glare, “I promise not to play 'Fernando' every time you enter a room from now on."
Fernando chuckles again, seemingly amused by the whole ordeal. "I'd appreciate that. Anyway, carry on. I won't keep you two any longer."
As he walks away, you let out a sigh of relief. "That could have been a lot worse," you say, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.
"Yeah, we got lucky," Lando agrees, giving you a playful nudge. "But you know what they say, Tink, nothing like a bit of closet bonding to strengthen a friendship."
You roll your eyes at his playful banter, but there's a fondness in your heart as you look at him. "You're incorrigible, Lando Norris."
He grins, "You love it, though."
You can't help but smile, knowing he's right. “Come on,” you say, “you have a quali to attend.”
The tension from the qualifying session had left you on edge, your heart pounding with every lap, and your nerves had gotten the better of you, leading to some slightly bloody nails from biting them in anticipation. But all that anxiety melts away when you see Lando step out of the car, grinning ear to ear. As soon as he catches sight of you, he opens his arms, and you don't hesitate for a moment. You rush into his embrace, holding him tightly, relieved that he's safe and thrilled that he performed so well.
"You were amazing out there!" you exclaim, unable to hide the pride in your voice. "P2, front row! That's incredible!"
Lando chuckles, his arms still wrapped around you. "I don’t know how we did it!"
You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, your heart swelling with admiration for your best friend. "I never doubted you for a second," you say earnestly.
His grin widens, and he playfully ruffles your hair. "I know you didn't. Seems like you’re my lucky charm, hm?"
“You know what that means?” You ask him return, a playful smirk on your lips.
His answer comes quickly, and his look seems to reflect your own, “Pizza and a movie?”
Your reply is just as enthusiastic as you throw your arms around him and give him a big smile, “Pizza and a movie, baby!”
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Eventually, you manage to escape the whole hustle and bustle of the circuit, and you and Lando find yourselves back at the hotel, with you on the couch trying to find something to watch and him deciding to take a quick shower after the stressful day of qualifying. After a few minutes, you hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. You smile to yourself, glad that Lando is taking some time to relax after such a demanding day. As you wait for him to finish, you finally settle on a movie to watch with a small grin on your face, clearly pleased with your choice. Just as you're about to start the movie, you hear the bathroom door open, and Lando emerges, looking refreshed and relaxed.
After he gets the pizza box out of the oven, he walks over to the couch, wearing sweatpants instead of his jeans, and flops down next to you. "That shower was exactly what I needed," he says with a contented sigh.
You chuckle, glancing at him, while also trying to actively ignore the fact that he’s wearing grey sweatpants. "Feeling better now?"
"Definitely," he replies, flashing you a grin. "So, what are we watching?"
“Mamma Mia,” you scoff, “of course.”
“A classic, nice.” He nods in understanding, extending the pizza box to you for you to take a slice. “It’s still warm.”
You wordlessly grab a slice and pass the box back to Lando as you settle in your seat, ready to focus on your choice of movie. The comfortable silence between you feels familiar, like the unspoken language of best friends who have shared countless memories and moments together. Throughout the movie, you can't help but notice Lando's occasional stolen glances at you, and you find yourself stealing glances right back. He even winks at you with that boyish grin every time he catches you staring at him, making you giggle as you quickly turn your attention back onto the screen. You somehow find yourself sprawled out on the couch once the pizza box is emptied and discarded, and it’s harder for you to keep your eyes open. With your head on Lando’s lap, he plays with the ends of your hair as the two of you try to keep your attention on the screen.
‘Try,’ being the operative word here, since Lando realises that you end up falling asleep in the middle of the movie where Sophie realises all of the men she invited to the wedding thinks they are her father, and though he finds some kind of comfort in the chaos knowing that it will get resolved eventually, he can’t help but take his role as a makeshift human pillow very seriously. As the movie continues playing, Lando tries his best not to disturb your peaceful slumber. He leans back against the couch, adjusting his position so you can rest more comfortably on his lap while also trying so hard to not wake you up. He can't help but smile to himself as he plays with your hair, finding himself mesmerized by the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathe.
With a sudden realisation that maybe it is not the best thing to stare at you while you sleep, he tries to occupy himself with something on his phone while also trying to keep still so that you don’t wake up. However, the text thread between him and Max quickly makes him realise that the thoughts that he tries so hard to keep away. He never gave himself the opportunity to think about the two of you that way, he supposes. Not that it would be weird or anything, but in his mind, he’d seen, and been in, far too many relationships form and de-form to know that not all is permanent when it comes to relationships and it’s also not something he’d want to risk when it comes to you. Although the unwarranted thoughts of the two of you together, as a couple, have been haunting him for the past couple of months, he did a great job of sending them away and finding something else to focus on – up until now, that is. And now that he’s pictured the two of you together, holding hands in the streets of Monaco, going on dates, doing more than what ‘best friends’ are meant to do, it doesn’t seem that daunting to give it a try.   
He carefully shifts you onto his lap with gentle movements, surprised that you don’t wake up and also trying to figure out the best way to wake you up without startling you. As he gently brushes your cheek, your eyes flutter open, and you look up at him with a sleepy smile. "Did I miss the end of the movie?" you ask, your voice still heavy with sleep.
Lando chuckles, shaking his head, but not stilling the movement of his hand. “No, we just finished. You fell asleep somewhere in the middle.”
You sit up slightly, rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. “I'm sorry,” you say, sounding apologetic.
“No need to apologise,” he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You looked adorable sleeping, Tink.”
Your cheeks flush slightly, and you give him a playful nudge. “Stop teasing me.”
Lando grins, but there's a tenderness in his eyes as he looks at you. “I'm not teasing, Tink. I mean it. You always look adorable, no matter what you're doing.”
You feel your heart skip a beat at his sincere compliment, and you can't help but smile back. “Thank you,” you say softly, feeling a warmth spreading through you, “I, uh, I should probably go to my room and let you sleep.”
“What? No, you don’t have to go.” Lando’s eyebrows furrow on their own, “I mean, you could stay over, it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
You give him an unsure look, “I don’t know, Lando, you have a race tomorrow.”
“And we’ll sleep,” he shrugs, “the name ‘sleepover’ implies that, baby.”
You end up giving in and nodding, albeit a little hesitant. "Alright, I'll stay over."
Lando's face lights up with a bright smile, clearly pleased with your decision. "Great! It'll be fun, just like old times."
You chuckle softly. "Yeah, just like old times."
And you’d expect it to feel like the old times, because the two of you said it would be like the old times – the times where you’d spend the night over at his house because his mother picked you up and you didn’t want the playtime to be over. But instead of the excitement of a prolonged play date with your best friend, you find yourself anxious in the hotel bathroom over the fact that it’s him out there, and there is no way that he is not aware of the way you feel about him. You take a moment to compose yourself, splashing some cold water on your face to calm your nerves. This situation is new territory for both of you, and you don't want anything to ruin the friendship the two of you have. When you eventually make your way out of the bathroom, you desperately want to go back in, feeling undoubtedly exposed under Lando’s burning gaze.
“What?” You ask, your voice coming off weaker than you hoped, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
It takes a minute for him to answer you, mainly because of the fact that poor Lando is having a brain malfunction at the sight of you in his shirt – which he gave it to you because it was the only logical option for sleepwear, you know? Suddenly regretting his possessive streak, he attempts to clear his throat, “Nothing, you look good in my clothes.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try not to let yourself become reduced to a blubbering mess, “Oh, well thank you. It’s yours,” after a brief moment of realisation you quickly add, “but you already knew that.”
“Tink,” he calls out, snapping you out of whatever embarrassed state you’re in, and your eyes quickly snap to his. “Come here,” he pleads as he extends one of his towards you, he’s quick to draw you into his arms – and just like that, you find yourself straddling your best friend.
“This is crazy,” you whisper as Lando grabs you by the waist to still your movements as you try to find a comfortable position while not realising just how uncomfortable it becomes for him.
“It doesn’t have to be,” his whisper is just as soft as yours as he looks up to you, “we don’t have to make it weird.”
A compromise, you’ll take it. “Are you going to kiss me?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” As much as you hate it when he replies to your questions with his own, you nod your head with a sheepish look on your face, though it doesn’t satisfy Lando as a valid answer. “I need you to say it, baby.”
You answer comes of in an instant. “I do, please.”
“Such good manners,” he mumbles while giving you that boyish grin you love oh so much. When he catches biting the corner of your lip, you’re broken out of your daydream by his thumb pulling your lip free. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself,” his thumb caresses the side of your lip, “that’s my job, anyway.”
Your cheeks flush at his playful comment, and you can't help but smile at his words. "Your job, huh?" you tease, feeling the tension in the air starting to dissipate.
Lando chuckles, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your waist. "Among other things," he replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Before you give yourself the opportunity to overthink, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Lando’s lips – it’s only a peck, a hesitant one at that, but not completely uncharted territory when you think about it. The two of you have shared kisses before, at Christmas or New Year’s at midnight, but somehow this simple peck feels different than any of those other occasions. Lando doesn’t rush you. He’s a patient man after all, and he knows that the feelings he has for you are reciprocated by the feelings you have for him. So when you look him with widened eyes, he gives you a soft smile and it does wonders to calm your nerves. It doesn’t take you long to press your lips against his once again, but this time the kiss is deeper, more passionate, and filled with the unspoken words that have lingered between you for too long.
It starts off with another peck, but this time you take the initiative to deepen the kiss, and the appreciative groan that leaves Lando’s lips makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. His hands move from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, while yours tangle in his hair, revelling in the softness of his curls – and the fact that all of this feels almost familiar in some kind of a way. He’s not shy as he lets his tongue explore your mouth, in fact, he encourages you to do the same. It’s a messy kiss filled with colliding tongues and mixed breaths, and the hands that were on your waist one moment are now on your hips, encouraging their slow movement against his groin. It’s not a subtle build-up for any of you, either. It a matter of seconds, you find yourself dry-humping your childhood best friend in his hotel room, and in a couple more, both of you are whimpering into the kiss.
You’re both out of breath and breathing deeply as you rest your forehead against Lando’s. Thankfully, his hands continue to guide your hips as their movement get more and more erratic, and you him groan out, “Slow down, baby.”
You let out an objective whimper in return, whispering out a weak, “No.”
“No?” Lando repeats, his breath hitting your exposed neck in a light chuckle, “Do you want to come?”
“Uh-huh,” you mumble, letting your hands grab handfuls of his hair, “but you can’t fuck me.”
The whine that comes from your lips can only be described as bratty when Lando forces your hips to cease their movements, raising an eyebrow at you as he grumbles, “Excuse me?”
“You can’t fuck me, Lando.” You mumble, trying to move your hips again, but his hold is too powerful against your attempts. “At least not tonight.”
“And why is that, Tink?” He takes in your wide eyes and shuddering breath in, thinking he’d done something wrong, something you didn’t like. “You want to come, no?” He thinks at that moment, as you give him a nod with that dreamy and almost innocent look on your face, he could die and he’d be happy with where his life has led him, but he gives you a confused look, “Then what is the problem?”
“Um, you have a race tomorrow,” you explain as your fingers gently slide down to meet at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want to jinx anything.”
As a respond to your words, Lando gives you a look of disbelief, “You don’t want to jinx me having a good race,” he mumbles.
You give him another nod, “Are you mad at me?”
 “Am I mad at you?” Lando repeats the question, and he flips the two of you over in a smooth motion so that you're lying on the bed with him hovering above you, his eyes locked onto yours. “Answer the question for me, will you?”
You take a moment to catch your breath, your heart racing as you meet his intense gaze. “No,” you reply softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “Why would you be mad at me?”
Lando's lips curve into a playful smile as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “See?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, “Good girl.” As he moves down your body, you let out a protesting sound, but he quickly shushes you as he positions himself between your legs. “I’m going to make you come, and you’re not talking to Micheal Italiano ever again.” He taps the side of your hips to signal you to raise them up as he carefully takes off your underwear and then murmurs to himself, “Pretty girl, too.”
With a blush which is quickly spreading onto your cheeks and neck, you raise yourself onto your elbows as you watch him give you the do-over. “Lando,” you plead.
“Oh baby, you're wet,” he teases, “don’t worry, though, I’ll help you with that.” He also gives you a look while grabbing both of your thighs, “And the shirt fucking stays on.”
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After the events of the previous night with Lando working wonders between your legs for the remainder of the night, he honestly didn’t expect to start the morning with you returning the favour. Alas there you were, between his legs, with sleepy eyes and an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just given him the best blowjob of his life. And as the two of you make your way along the paddock, he wishes he was back in his hotel room with you in his arms. You try your best to distract him from overthinking everything and costing himself the race, and Lando is aware of what you’re trying to do – though that doesn’t mean you succeed completely.
You can tell by the small frown of eyebrows that he is lost inside his head, probably double guessing every aspect of the strategy his team debriefed him about this morning. With a deep inhale, you give his hand a small squeeze, halting your movements to stop him alongside you. “Hey,” you call out gently, “you’re going to be amazing out there, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know, it’s just the pressure is getting to me.” You watch him sigh, closing his eyes for a moment to regroup his thoughts, “I’ll be fine before I go in the car, I promise.”
You nod, giving him an encouraging smile, “I know you will. After all, you feel the–”
“Need for speed.” He completes the sentence without thinking, which makes the two of share a short laughter. “Thanks, Tink.”
“You’re welcome,” lifting yourself up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft peck on his lips, “I’ll watch the race with your dad, okay?” You chuckle at his reaction when he lets out a prolonged groan, “What?”
“He’s going to make fun of us, big time.” He says, rolling his eyes.
“Go,” you say in between laughter, “don’t be late and for the love of God, be careful!”
Lando chuckles at your playful warning, giving you a mock salute. “Yes, ma'am!”
It doesn’t take long for you to find Adam, who gives you a knowing look, in the sea of spectators in the McLaren garage. And as the race begins, you and Adam stand side by side, your eyes fixed on the track where the race is unfolding. The first four laps as the Lando leads the race makes your heart beat so hard, you can practically feel the excitement coursing through your veins. Each turn and straightaway that Lando navigates flawlessly adds to the anticipation building in the air. Even when he returns to his original position, you’re on the edge, praying to whatever deity up there for him to finish this race without and incident. You’ve told him million times before that you don’t get F1 at all, you’ve always thought the adrenaline linked with the sport to be a negative feeling – too heavy, too much and definitely not something you want to feel every weekend. But in the moment that Lando passes the finishing line P2, you realise why people are so obsessed with this sport. Because when Lando crosses the finish line, you find yourself cheering as loudly as anyone else. The rush of emotions, once alien to you, now feels like a shared celebration of human achievement and dedication.
Lando is all smiles when he finally finds his way back to you, and he’s giving you a kiss the moment he has you back in his arms; celebrating with the team in the paddock was a whirlwind of emotions. As he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, his big smile is infectious.
So you’re honestly confused when he starts dragging you through the hallways of the club you went to for his celebrations with the rest of the team. The beat of the music playing back in the dancefloor echoes in the hallway as he leads you down the hall. The lights, the laughter, and the energy of the celebrations in the main area of the club are still audible, but you can only hear the muffled sounds of the celebration being held for him. “Lando,” in hopes of finally getting some answers, you say his name for the umpteenth time, but he just looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, “what’s wrong?”
He's silent as he wraps his arms around your waist and before you can repeat your question he buries his head in the crook of your neck. While you’re thinking about what could’ve caused his sudden need to be alone with you, he’s very glad that you’ve opted to wear sneakers tonight instead of heels.
“Baby,” you murmur, your fingers running through his curls in an attempt to bribe him, “tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong.” His voice is muffled by your skin and you can feel the breath he exhales on your shoulder.
You purse your lips and give him a few moments for him to break on his own, but when he doesn’t, you sigh softly. “Something is wrong.”
He raises his head momentarily to give you an unamused look, then bury his head back into your neck, “I saw you and Oscar.”
“Yeah, we were talking about the race.” Your confirmation leaves you confused as he lets out a scoff, and you find yourself warily asking, “Is there something wrong with that?”
You hear him scoff again and then, “Well I didn’t particularly like it.”
You gently push him off of you as you try to look past his confused expression and pouted lips, “You didn’t like me talking to your teammate… about your race.”
“Well when you put it like that–”
“Lando he is two years younger than us, and he has a girlfriend you do realise that, don’t you?” Your hands rest on either side of your body on your hips as you give him a small grin, “You were jealous, weren’t you?”
His eyes widen as he nods, “Well yeah, Tink, I think that one was very much obvious when I dragged you here.”
“I mean,” you drawl, “it was kind of cute, you know?”
As his eyes narrow, Lando walks you backwards until you’re pressed up against the wall. “Well I am a cute person.”
“Oh yeah,” you let out a giggle, “the cutest.” Your fingers toy with the buttons of his shirt while you look up at him to meet his eyes, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“That we should probably get back to the party?” He mumbles, his eyes drifting as he looks around the hall.
You fist the collar of his shirt as you raise yourself up on your tiptoes, your voice lowering down for only him to hear even if it’s a deserted hallway, “You don’t have a race tomorrow.”
His eyes come back down to meet yours, “Well yes, it’s Mond– oh,” it takes a moment for him to realise what you’ve meant, and you’re thrown over his shoulder in an instant.
“Wha– Lando put me down!” You shriek, “What are you doing?”
His voice is playful as he starts walking towards the back door of the club, “We are not leaving that hotel room for a few days.”  
It doesn’t take long for you to start laughing, “You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs the opposite shoulder, “but I’m your idiot.”
The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but you can’t help the small smile forming on your lips as you murmur, “Yeah, yeah you are.”
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sugar-coat-it · 2 months
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HEY!! Your smut is insane!! could i request something like matty and reader mutual masturbation telling eachother what to do?? 😋🤘🏻
YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP YOU GOT IT BABE 
I thought it would be fun if they’re low-key bickering throughout it while still telling each other what to do, but it ends with them just being desperate to watch the other cum, totally forgetting the silly argument 
Uhhh yeah this started as a blurb and got pretty long, so, hope you like it anon!
—--------------------------------------------
“Mm- no, you don’t get to touch me, not after what you pulled,” you murmur, pushing Matty back onto the pillows and off of your frame. 
Every fiber of you is screaming to just let your pride go and just allow him to keep running his hands over your body, pressing searing kisses to your neck and jawline. You’re well aware that the fires he sets under your skin can only be fully put out by him, but you’re also stubborn… at least for now. Matty just tuts, rolling his eyes at you and gazing off to the side, clearly fuming at the idea of his actions having consequences. Before you’d gotten back home, you’d been out at a pub where he’d been a complete and total prick to a guy at the bar whom he was convinced was trying to sleep with you. Death stares, possessive fingers digging into your waist, the whole ordeal. The whole car ride home had been tense, Matty’s jaw clenched with bitterness as he kept one commanding hand on your leg, his cold rings pressing into the plush skin of your thigh as he drove. His eyes were intensely trained on the road the whole time, deafening silence between you. Although he was being ridiculous, it sure did get you hot and bothered to see him so passionately envious. He obviously felt the same impulse to some degree, because the moment the door shut behind you, he was crushing his lips to yours, licking into your mouth ravenously as he pulled you flush against his body. The two of you had stumbled into the bedroom, messily shedding jackets to the floor as your eager hands roamed. 
“Seriously? Are you still on about the wanker from the pub?” he scoffs, unfastening his tie with deft fingers, working quickly until it’s hanging loose around his neck. 
“Yeah, I am! You were so rude to him when he was just being nice!” you exclaim, reaching for the zipper on your dress, trying to relieve some of the heat simmering beneath the fabric. 
“That’s a ridiculous thing to say. He told you you were… fucking, what did he say? “mothering, cunt slaying”?” 
“He was gay, you asshole!” you snort, your dress now a heap on the floor along with Matty’s button-down shirt.
“How was I supposed to know that? I don’t even have a clue as to what that fuckin’ means!” “Matthew, you’re so out of touch.”
His lip twitches with annoyance, but that doesn’t stop him from staring right at your tits, his hand tensing with the urge to reach out and greedily touch and grab what he believes is rightfully his. Just as hypocritical, you feel heat surge deep inside you as you glance down at the thick protrusion in his dark slacks, drinking in the sight of him leaning back against the pillows with his inked chest bared to you for your viewing pleasure. You’re both at an impasse, too proud to “lose” by reaching out for the other, which leaves only one option to relieve yourselves of your frustrations. 
“Well if I apparently can’t touch you, I’m not gonna sit here like an idiot with a hard-on,” he murmurs, cocking his head at you with a hint of sass. 
“What, are you gonna go have a wank in the bathroom, then?” you gape with disbelief, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Nope. Why should I? It’s my bed too,” he replies simply, reaching for his belt and undoing it, watching as you start practically salivating at the way his hands flex around the buckle.
The belt lands on the floor with a clank, but instead of taking off his trousers, he slides his hand down his chest slowly, sensually, taking his time as if you’re not even there. He trails his fingers down his stomach, his pace is entirely unhurried as he reaches for the crotch of his pants. Matty feels over his erection with the palm of his hand first, letting his eyes flutter closed as he tilts his head back against the pillow, gritting his teeth at the way he’s teasing himself. You can’t help the way you softly gasp when he suddenly grabs himself through the fabric, keeping a firm hold on his cock with a grunt, the veins in his hand bulging salaciously. Matty loosens his grip now, tracing the outline of his erection with two fingers, lingering on the tip just enough to make his hips jump forward with need. He has one hand casually behind his head while the other skillfully undoes the button and zipper of his pants, and only now does he crack one eye open just enough to watch the way you’re squirming, your face burning at the shameless display he’s putting on for you. You straighten up when you feel him looking at you, your face screwing up into a frustrated pout, not wanting him to know how whipped he’s got you. He just chuckles lowly, mirth crinkling at the corners of his eyes while he’s lifting his hips to pull his pants down, knowing all too well what he’s doing to you from the way your thighs clench.
Indignance strikes in you like lightning as you realize that he shouldn’t be the only one enjoying himself. He’s the one who was being an ass tonight after all; you should be making him remember the power you undeniably hold over him too. You begin to mirror him, letting out an exaggerated sigh as you slide your hands up your sides and grope your breasts through the cups of your bra, staring back at him with lustfully lidded eyes. He couldn’t be more pleased, a sleazy smirk tugging at his lips as he stares right back, testing your restraint further and further as the room gets hotter.
“Mhm, that’s it, keep touching your tits love, you’re great wank material,” Matty winks, his hand now snaking under the elastic band of his briefs as he starts stroking himself with a sigh.
You huff, sending him an annoyed look at him treating you like his personal porno, but you’re even more frustrated that his hand is hidden beneath the cover of his underwear. You can only see the outline of his cock as beads of precum soak into the dark fabric, his wrist languidly moving up and down his shaft as his hips shift back and forth slightly.
“What is it? You wanna see?” he coos before letting out a deep moan just to really put the nail in the coffin.
You’d like to call him arrogant, a prick maybe, especially because of the boastful, pride-ridden look on his face as he lazily jerks himself off. But instead what comes out is:
“Yeah…” 
It’s against your better judgment, but you can’t say you really regret a thing when he pushes the elastic past his weeping erection, letting you get a full view of the way he’s slowly circling his thumb around the tip of his cock as he just smiles that stupid, charming smile. It’s enough motivation to eradicate your inhibitions as you spread your legs out atop the sheets, hooking your finger into your ruined panties and sliding them to the side. Matty is starting to lose his cool now, his movements getting a little quicker, his eyes widening just a bit as you keep one hand cupping your breast while the other ventures between your thighs. He lets out a choked groan at the sight of you taking your fingers and spreading yourself open for him to watch, collecting the honey that’s gathered at your sopping hole and dragging it up to your clit. You moan breathily, biting your lip as you begin circling two fingers around the swollen bundle of nerves, the slight sense of relief making your head swim.
“You can go faster than that, can’t you?” you tempt, having had enough of his little lax pleasure session. 
Matty’s lips press into a thin line as you attempt to order him around, muttering something under his breath. Yet, he still obliges, his hand moving a little swifter as he drags his fist up all the way from the base to the head, twisting his wrist the way you usually do it. A prideful smile twitches at the corners of your mouth before you can stop it while you’re drawing tight circles around your clit the way Matty knows you like it. However, nothing could ever compare to the way his calloused fingers rub at you until you’re seeing stars, not even your own hand. 
“Want you to take your bra off,” Matty commands in return, his breathing getting heavier as his chest heaves, he’s trying not to buck up into his hand and appear too eager. 
You move as quickly as possible, not wanting to be left aching for too long as you move to unclasp your bra, needing both hands. The moment your bra is sliding down your shoulders, your hand slithers back between your legs, rubbing little figure eights on your clit to make your toes curl and your head tilt back, your hair spilling down your shoulders.
“You could have been the one touching my tits if you hadn’t been so mean,” you pout spitefully, grabbing a handful of one of your breasts with your free hand.
“Do you even know how to make yourself cum anymore? I’ve spoiled you too much haven’t I?” Matty snaps back, completely ignoring your little comment despite how badly he’d love to lick and suck at your perfect breasts right now.
He’s fisting his cock a little harder as he watches you pleasure yourself, knowing damn well he would be doing a better job, which only makes him further ticked off. You gasp as you pinch your nipple between two fingers the way he does, sending a harsh pang of need straight to your core. Meanwhile, Matty makes a frustrated grunting noise as he tries to recreate the way your lovely hands slicked with his precum would grasp and pump him time and time again. The both of you are ironically unable to get off unless you mimic the way the other’s hands work.
“Have you ever heard that jealousy is a disease?” you mention sarcastically between little gasps for breath, your cunt fluttering around nothing. 
“That’s nice, princess. Two fingers inside, now.” 
Wordlessly, you follow his instructions, whimpering as you coat your fingers with your arousal before sinking them inside your needy hole. Matty’s eyes are trained on the space between your thighs, his jaw going slack as he watches your digits disappear inside you and then reappear even more drenched. His strokes are getting jerkier, he’s cursing under his breath as he tries to resist delving between your legs and taking care of you himself. His chocolatey curls bounce with his movements, a thin sheen of sweat glistening across his chest and his forehead. 
“Don’t like being punished for wanting to keep what’s mine, y’know. Stick your tongue out,” he grunts, giving himself a particularly hard squeeze. 
“So possessive,” you purr, obliging his little fantasy because you know exactly what he wants to see. 
A cheeky glint in your eyes, you let your tongue slip past your lips as you pant, relishing in the way Matty’s cock twitches sharply in his fist as he stares at you, unable to help the way he whines when a drop of saliva drips from your pliant tongue onto your tits. You know how absolutely depraved you must look, fingering yourself while moaning with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. The things you do for love (and good sex). 
“Shit, that’s a lovely view, ain’t it? S’better when you’re not talking too. C’mon, don’t slow down,” he prattles, his voice smooth and dark like tinted glass.
“Only if you fuck your fist for me properly,” you interject, feeling just as worthy of making sensual demands. 
Matty scoffs like he’s above doing something so vulgar, but the moment he sees that you’re in fact slowing your movements down, he’s snapping his hips up into his fist, groaning far too loudly as he clenches his hand around his shaft. Sufficiently pleased, you go back to sticking your tongue out like his obedient little sweetheart while you continue to pump your fingers in and out of yourself. Matty’s eyes roll back with fluttering lashes as he thrusts upwards over and over, his abs tensing with the effort of keeping up his relentless pace. You feel yourself shudder the moment the whites of his eyes disappear and he’s gazing at you again, the eye contact makes warmth rush over your skin in a familiar, pleasant wave. God, the obscene symphony of sounds from your separate pleasure sessions would be enough to make anyone blush. You’re both starting to forget why you’re playing this little game in the first place, heads hazy with raw desire.
“Getting close…” you murmur, the challenging tone of your voice fading into a softer sort of desire, like you can’t help but appreciate the absolute treat of your gorgeous boyfriend before you. 
Matty’s gaze softens in return, his eyebrows sloping with a pining sort of look instead of being furrowed with intensity, his curls are sticking to his forehead, damp with his sweat. His breaths are coming in short gasps, moans freely spilling from his lips as his eyes wildly flick from your longing expression to your breasts, to your diligent fingers. Every little sound you make only encourages him to go harder, to fuck faster, the bed creaking louder as the headboard repeatedly meets the wall behind it. 
“Ohh, I know, I know, me too. Shit, you’re so good, love. So perfect for me with that pretty pink cunt of yours spread open, fuck,” he rambles, his words tapering off into a whimper. 
His filthy words have your cheeks burning, heat prickling at them as you sigh out, your hips rocking into your own hand as you feel the tension gathering deep inside. It feels like it’s all getting ready to snap at any moment, and Matty can see it plastered all over your face. He knows you well enough to know the way your eyes widen when you’re going to climax, he’d made it his personal mission to learn all your tells. The whole pub incident might as well have never happened with how intent you both are to watch the other fall to pieces, eagerly relying on the other’s pleasure to get off.
“Please, please, Matty, wanna cum with you,” you whisper, your voice quivering much like your legs. 
“Shit, yeah? Go ahead love, gonna watch you make a mess, okay? I’m right here,” he breathes, restraining himself to only look into your eyes as you start to lose yourself. 
You’re falling weightlessly beyond the edges of pleasure, but you force yourself to stay upright enough to gaze back at Matty while your orgasm begins to crash over you in waves, your walls clenching and fluttering around your fingers while your lips part with a silent cry. Matty’s not far behind you, especially not with the scene before him of his perfect girl falling apart just for him. Hot spurts of cum cascade over his fist and his stomach, adorning his tattooed skin with pearly ropes as he moans garbled praises of your name.
“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck,” he groans, his hips pistoning up into his closed fist with sloppy, blissed-out thrusts, not once breaking the shiver-inducing eye contact. 
Your chest is still heaving, you’ve barely even started coming down from your high before you’re lunging for Matty, and he’s reaching out just as fast, his hands finding your waist like they’ve made their home there. You let your full body weight lean into him as you kiss him longingly like it’s been years since you’ve felt their touch. Neither of you seems to mind the way his cum is spreading all over your stomach and your tits between your flushed bodies, you’re too busy clutching at each other and locking lips like overzealous teen lovers. 
“Didn’t feel as good as when you do it, Matty,” you croon against his mouth, your hands adoringly sliding into his hair. 
“I know, sweetheart,” he pants, his thumbs tenderly rubbing little circles against your hip bones, “please, can I give you proper treatment now? Wanna make up for it, I was bein’ an arse, m’sorry.”
You just nod, looking up at him like he’d hung each individual star in your own personal sky as his warm breath fans over your lips. The glint in Matty’s eyes at your agreement tells you that he’s going to be spending quite some time worshipping you tonight, lovingly taking you apart with his hands until you’ve had enough. All is well in the world.
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got-pucks · 11 months
Text
sports betting gone right? || quinn hughes
summary: in which quinn hughes is completely infatuated with you and will do anything just to get more of you
warnings: none! :)
note: to the anon who requested this, i did make a slight change to your request, but i totally hope that you don’t mind :)
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Much to his dismay, Quinn had been in New Jersey to help his family with moving Luke into his apartment with Jack. Luke hadn't fully moved into New Jersey during the playoff season, as he wouldn't have been there for very long. The family thought the best option was to move the essentials such as a bed, nightstand, and some clothing at first and then whatever Luke felt he might need later on.
Quinn hadn’t seen the point in needing the whole family, especially with all the different moving companies that could have done all the work instead. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he would rather be anywhere else, frustrated with all the different directions being shouted at everyone. Quinn had always felt that he was pretty easygoing and was chill with most things, but even this was a lot for him.
After a few hours of bickering between the brothers and a couple of stern looks from Ellen, everything that Luke could have possibly needed for the upcoming season was moved into the apartment. The family decided to go to a local street fair to see the different vendors and food stalls that were there. 
As the family was walking up and down the street Quinn was looking anywhere but straight ahead. His mind was wandering, thinking about all the things he needed to do in preparation for the upcoming season. Next thing he knew he felt himself knocking into someone, causing him to grunt and fall straight onto his ass. 
Quinn could hear his brothers snickering about him being an idiot while heat rose to his face as he quickly tried to stand back up. As soon as he was back on his feet and facing the person he ran into, Quinn swore he almost fell over again, coming face to face with you, one of the most beautiful people he has laid his eyes on. He felt completely enamored by all your features wanting to take everything about you in.
“Don’t mind my brother,” he heard Jack say before he could even mumble out an apology, “he can be more than kind of a dumbass sometimes.” 
Quinn turned to give Jack a mouthful when he heard you laugh, “Oh Jack, don’t be so mean to your family. That's your brother you're talking about!” 
Quinn watched with his mouth agape as he saw you and Jack hugged each other. He introduced you to his family, explaining how you had met through a mutual friend during his rookie year. You had apparently helped Jack a lot, teaching him how to cook a few basic meals and survive on his own. 
Suddenly, Quinn felt himself pushing himself closer to you letting out an apology about how bad he felt for not paying attention and then quite literally running into you. You laughed even more at Quinn, making him think to himself that he could hear that sound forever. Not thinking much, Quinn blurts out an invitation to join his family while they walk around looking at the different vendors. Thankfully, you accepted the offer.
You and Quinn had spent that time hitting it off, which turns out that the two of you had many similar interests. By the end of the night, Quinn felt like he had known you for years. Feeling like he hadn't had enough of you, he had asked if he could take you to dinner sometime.
“You know, hockey players aren’t my type,” Quinn could feel his heart drop as the grin on your face grew, “but maybe I am willing to make an exception because I just think you’re way cute. The next time you’re in town to play a game against your brothers, and you score a goal, I’ll consider going on a date.” 
Suddenly, Quinn could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He mumbled quietly, “I mean yeah… I could possibly manage that.” 
“Okay well, that sounds perfect!” you exclaimed, then kissing Quinn on the cheek, which caused his face to get hot for one more time that night. 
After that night, all Quinn could think about was you and your little proposition. Eventually, that game came around. He made sure that Jack had gotten you tickets, even going as far as suggesting that you should sit with their parents during the game. 
He felt like a nervous wreck all before the game, wondering if he would even get the chance to score a goal just so he could get a date with the most beautiful human being he had ever met. However, those nerves were not needed, as he ended up getting a hat trick by the end of the game. Each goal scored he searched for your face in the stands to give you a little wink. Quinn had felt like a king that night, not only bringing in the win for his team but also the prospect of getting to take you on a date.
By the end of the night, you found yourself opening a text from an unknown number. 
Hey, I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from Jack. Anyways, about that date? :)
583 notes · View notes
teez-the-time · 3 months
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dear may, i had to stop reading your san warrior fic a few times because my eyes are just filled with tears. 😭💕
excuse my wordings as i am not a writer but more so of a reader instead but your whole writing was done in such a wonderful way that i was left speechless and of course, in tears once again.
sannie written as such hopeless romantic and absolutely brave warrior is so accurately depicted that i truly believe he definitely can be one in his past life! 🙈
i guess as i am typing this, i just want to thank you so much for this brilliant piece of art that you decided to share with us here. 💖
hope this is just the first of many from you! 🥹
- ✨anon
MY. HEART. STOP.
No but, ever since I posted "Choi San, Wolf Warrior" I've received so many heartwarming messages and reviews that I literally had to sit down. You really have no idea how much a little support means to someone who never expected any kind of reaction from others. While I planned to continue posting my stories even if no one saw them, these kind of messages encourage me to keep exploring my potential.
I was SUPER nervous when I posted the story. For a moment, I even thought of deleting it and never having it see the light of day. I'm glad I didn't. I also contemplated making a second part, but ultimately decided to leave it as it is and not wear off the magic. Nevertheless, seeing that you like it so much...I present you a little story of Y/N and San before the big events of the story.
Lastly, dear anon: I obviously don't know you, but thank you for that beautiful message. Keep supporting ATINY authors with your sweet words, since many will appreciate them.
XOXO -May
Pairing: Warrior! San x Chief's daughter! Fem! Reader
Genre: fantasy, action, romance
Warnings: some cursing and metions of sex, but nothing explicit, Y/N and San are both whipped pt. 2.
Wc: 1.8k
Taglist: @darkdayelixer
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You could barely see the ground in front of you as you walked through one of the furthest parts of the village in the middle of the night. It was way past the usual time you would have been home asleep, but one of your friends had come to you begging for your help. Apparently, San had come back with the other young men of the village from a successful hunt and was celebrating with some of your friends.
The problem?
Choi San, the fearless warrior, had lost to alcohol and now refused to stop drinking despite being pretty drunk. Seeing that no one was able to make him desist on his attempt to become a rum barrel, your friends resorted to an infallible plan: getting you to take him home.
That’s why you now found yourself walking on a dark path, alone, cursing his name to all the gods above.
May god curse that lightweight idiot, you thought to yourself.
You heard the laughter before you saw anyone. Partially hidden by a dense patch of trees and bushes, the young people of your village used the clearing as a meeting spot for this type of gathering. Consumed by your duties as the chief’s daughter, you had to excuse yourself from attending the party with your friends.
Well, I guess not anymore.
Your friends were scattered around the place. The majority stood in groups in different parts of a small clearing, others sat down on stools. A small group sat on the floor, listening to one of the boys play a guitar. At last, you saw San sitting with some mutual friends around a small wooden table. He couldn’t see you, as his back faced you (but you could recognize his blushed ears anywhere), and nobody seemed to have noticed your presence so far. You walked towards him, trying to be as silent as possible in case someone saw you. It’s not like you didn’t like this type of gathering, but it was pretty late and you had to get San back to his house and then go back to yours. You couldn’t stay for much.
As you approached the group, you could hear San talking, and from your friends’ expressions, he was talking nonsense.
“I am telling you,” he was insistent, but the slur of his words wasn’t very convincing, “no one can compare. Fucking impossible. I witness it with my two eyes every single day. The standards are so high it’s fucking ridiculous”.
You wondered what the hell he was talking about, but as you got closer, you caught your friend Wooyoung’s eyes. He showed you his mischievous smile before turning back to his drunk friend.
“Sanie, but what the hell are you talking about?” he asked San, who made an exasperated gesture.
“Are you dumb or deaf, Jung Wooyoung?” San sloppily motioned for his friends to listen carefully. “I’ll repeat it one more time ‘cause apparently y’all have been hit in the head enough times to become stupid. Y/N is the most perfect human being to ever exist”.
Your eyes widened, and the people that had noticed you started laughing. San didn’t like that. “What the fuck are you laughing at? Listen to me. Liiiisten. Wait, I got dizzy. Okay, I’m good again. So, listen to me”.
“Y/N is literally sooooo perfect sometimes it gets ridiculous. Like, she is so beautiful it doesn’t make sense. None at all. And it’s all the time. Not once in her life has she ever been ugly. No, wait. One time, when we were eleven, she slipped on sheep shit and got covered in it. She smelt horrible and cried like a baby. But now that I think about it, she looked so cute even though she was embarrassed. Goddammit!”
He covered his face, as he couldn’t bear the flutter of his heart. San dragged his hands through his cheeks and continued talking. “And that’s, like, just from the outside. From the inside, she is sooooo smart. Way too smart for her good actually. Hongjoong hyung, you are clever, but you look dumb compared to her. Sometimes, I feel like I’m too stupid to be with her.” He interrupted his speech with a gasp of horror. “Oh my god! What if she leaves me for someone more intelligent?”
His friend, Seonghwa, swatted his arm. “Yah, Sanie! Don’t even think about that!”
San downed the whole mug of beer he had been holding despite everyone’s protests. “But I’m right! She’s so much fucking better than me. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, responsible, and everyone loves her! Hell, I think my parents like her more than me. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t blame them. Oh, and there’s nothing she can’t do. I’m not joking. She knows medicine, she helps her dad, and she even cooks. Her kimchi, hyung!”. He let out a hiccup and a sniff. “Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, Y/N. Yes! She’s even good at sex-”
That was your cue to stop his drunk rambles. “Woah, woah. Time for me to stop this party for you, sir.”
San didn’t pay you attention and kept rambling. “Oh no, I promised her that I wouldn’t talk about her like that. Forget the last part. I didn’t say shit about sex. It’s just…it’s just…I haven’t seen her since we left and I miss her sooooo much”. He stopped, his eyes widening. “Gods, I think I even heard her voice just now”.
If your friends weren’t laughing at San’s drunken antics before, they certainly were now. You put your hand on his shoulder. “Sanie, I’m here. It’s time to go home”.
San looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh my gods! I’m starting to hallucinate”.
In any other circumstance, you would’ve been rolling on the floor with laughter, but you were getting more and more frustrated with him. “San. You are drunk. Time to come home”.
“No!” he refused, holding the empty mug to his chest and pouting, “I won’t follow a fake Y/N. Get out, you impostor!”
You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sanie, I’m not a fake. It’s me Y/N. I came here to take you home”.
San narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Hmm, I still don’t believe you. Tell me something only the real Y/N would know!”
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time he had pulled something similar. You sighed and answered his demand. “Your name is San and your family name is Choi”.
With that simple answer, his entire face lit up. He grinned from ear to ear and grabbed your hand. “You are my Y/N! Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
You had to fight the urge to knock his teeth out, as it would be too bothersome to explain to his parents how his son lost them. “Yes, I am Y/N. Come with me”.
You didn’t have to repeat yourself. Without letting go of your hand, he grabbed the few things he had brought with him and stood up from his seat. His smile was unwavering. “Let’s go home, darling. It’s way too late for you to be out!”
Drunk San was more ridiculous than normal San, so you made no effort to point his logic out. You just slung his arm over your shoulders to help him walk and said goodbye to your friends (who weren’t also totally hammered and didn’t make some colourful suggestions about home activities).
Even if you were annoyed by how drunk San was, you had to admit he was pretty funny when he was in this state. It wasn’t usual for him to drink this much, or at all, which was something you would have to inquire later. But, for now, you enjoyed the nonsense he was humming and muttering. The warmth of his body comforted you in the middle of the night chill.
“My love,” he called out to you. Lately, he seemed more comfortable calling you that in more public settings. “My love, Y/N. I have to admit something”.
“What is it, Sanie?” you inquired.
“I am drunk,” he said dead-seriously, “like super drunk. I don’t know why I drank so much. I am sorry”.
You held back a laugh, hearing how upset he sounded by the end of the sentence. “It’s okay, Sanie. You don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad.”
“Are you sure?” he asked and you repeated your answer. “You’re literally the best ever. I was gonna say best friend, but you aren’t my best friend anymore”.
“Oh?” you played along, knowing there was something he wanted to say, “then who is your best friend now? Wooyoungie? Yeosangie?”
San shook his head energetically. “Nop. They can’t compare to you. You are my best friend, but, like, you aren’t my friend. I don’t like any words for you. You…you are…my love. My Y/N”.
In the middle of that night, on the road you both took together to go home, you choked at San’s confession. You were always impressed at how he wore his heart on his sleeve, never afraid of judgment or rejection. You, on the other hand, were more reluctant to let others in, your guard having been broken by only a few; one of which you carried on your shoulders at this very moment. 
“Me too…” you said barely above a whisper, “I can’t find a word for you, my love…”
For a few moments, neither of you said a word, letting the silence speak for yourselves. You could feel he was regaining sobriety, although a throbbing headache would be waiting for him in the morning. His house stood at the end of the road, and yours wasn't too far away. It was time to say your goodbyes for the night, but you were already planning on stopping by again to leave him some medicine.
"Y'know, we're already twenty," San stated the obvious once again, "we only have to wait two more years".
You didn't dare to say anything. You both arrived at his door, and San removed his arm from your shoulders, but he didn't let go of you. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. His other hand found nest on your cheek. From that distance, you could see speckles of moonlight in his eyes, who looked at you with intensity.
"Gods, I can't wait for those two years," he whispered before capturing your lips with his. You reciprocated the kiss, tangling your hands on the hair of his nape. It tasted like alcohol but, somehow, San made it sweeter.
It was perfect, just like him.
You broke away for air, but it wasn't enough for San. He pecked your lips twice more before removing himself from you. You helped him open the door to his home, as he still struggled with basic coordination. He turned around to look at you for one last time, placing a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you~," he grinned and waved at you excitedly as he closed the door slowly. San's figure disappeared from your sight, but you heard a couple of stumbles and curses from the inside.
You smiled to yourself.
I can't wait either.
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myoongiverse16 · 1 year
Note
Hi theree, can I request a Hunter x female reader where the reader want to cuddle but hubter doesn't wanna cuz it's hot and his senses and stuff, but he eventually gives in? Sorry this is so cringe😆
Can I Be Your Pillow?
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A/N: Thank you so so much anon for my first request! I’m sorry it took so long! Life has been super crazy! 🥹 I hope you enjoy!
Summary: You and Hunter have confessed to each other but nothing has happened. You don’t have your pillow you love to hug anymore. Hunter takes that as an opportunity to get closer to you.
Genre: Fluff upon fluffffff
Warnings: some mutual pining, cuddles and kisses 🥰
Mando’a key: Osik=Oh Sh*t, Di’kut=Idiot, Dank Farrik=Dang it
It was a normal day on the Marauder. Normal meaning multiple missions that put your lives at risk. But that’s just how it was being in this squad and you knew that. It’s what you loved about this weird group of people called a family. You loved the danger, adventure, and company of others. But there was one in particular whom you loved spending time with the most. 
You couldn’t help but fall for the stout and stoic man. As much as you loved his build and attractiveness, the reason you were head over heels was because of his soft demeanor on the inside.
You couldn’t help but notice the wall he built when you first met, that slowly crumpled away as you got to know each other. He became more vulnerable around you, showed more care when you were put in danger, and gave you words of affirmation when you felt inadequate. And when Omega came into his life, you fell for him more as you saw him care for someone as though they were his own. 
When you both finally admitted your feelings for each other, it was more of just a mutual “liking”. After that, not much happened. This saddened you because from all the research and daydreams of romance in your head, you pictured already kissing and hugging Hunter. 
To your dismay, none of that had happened in the two weeks since you’ve confessed your feelings for each other. Also, you were confused as to what you were anymore.
Were you still friends? Were you more than friends? Were you dating? Were you not dating? If not, did you want to be dating? You had no clue and you didn’t really want to bring up the awkward conversation of formally asking him if you were in fact a couple. You were torn. So, you made small attempts to flirt with him. 
It started with you subtly brushing your hand against his when you handed something to him and when you walked alongside him. Then you would nudge him and smirk at him. For some reason, those didn’t phase him.
So you tried verbal attempts. You threw in some, “looking good sarge.” As well as a few winks and you often put your hand on his shoulder as you stood over him when he would sit in the cockpit. None of that had worked.
However you did notice one thing, he would flinch and stiffen up every time you touched him. It was very subtle but you noticed it.
This confused you. Did he not like you anymore? Was it something you did or said to him? Did you make him uncomfortable? Gosh, that was the last thing you wanted. But, surely he would confront you if he didn’t feel the same, right? 
Wrong.
Hunter all this time had watched you from afar, even before he had confessed his feelings to you. Too afraid to touch you, afraid his senses would get in the way of a potential relationship. So, he observed. And gosh, did you radiate a scent that drove him crazy. When you had looked at him and touched him, he flinched because he was petrified. 
But, he secretly loved it. That feeling, the brush of your hands, the nudges, made him feel nervous and fiery. It got much worse when you started to flirt with him verbally. You never noticed but he would turn and become a blushing mess. His hands would get sweaty and everything would just become so kriffing hot.
He could sense how you felt about him from those stupid attempts to flirt that actually worked. He was just too much of a coward to admit that he felt the same way. How much he wanted more. Until one fateful day.
You had just finished an excruciatingly painful mission that caused you to be on the run constantly and all you truly wanted was to rest.
But, once you laid down on your bunk, you knew something was missing. You had always had an extra pillow on your bunk, but since Omega had arrived, you had lended it to her. This pillow was purely used for snuggling and it was gone. 
You sighed, sat up, and pursed your lips. Looking around the Marauder, everyone was fast asleep on their assigned bunks. Everyone except the Sergeant you had come to adore. 
Dank farrik.
Letting out a huff, you quietly made your way to the cockpit, as to not disturb the other sleeping figures. As you had thought, Hunter was sitting in the pilot’s chair watching the blue streaks pass by. 
“Something on your mind?” Osik. You rubbed a hand behind your neck as Hunter spun his chair around. You cleared your throat.
“Yes, actually,” you bit your lip. “I-I was wondering if you had um, a spare pillow?” You mentally slapped your forehead at your stuttering. You had worked with this man and his crew for almost 6 months now and you were nervous? Di’kut.
Hunter raised a brow thinking the same thing. Does she not like me anymore?
“Sorry, I gave mine to Wrecker,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “How come you need another one?” You looked down shyly. 
“Well, I, you see…” you sighed. “I need it,” You looked up at him. “To fall asleep.” He nodded his head. 
“Oh.” There was an awkward silence. You sighed and was about to leave the room when Hunter cleared his throat and stood up abruptly.
“Hey,” he bit his tongue, contemplating.  “Could I be your pillow?”
Your eyes widened. Where the kriffing hell did that come from?! Hunter even surprised himself with that statement, he didn’t think he had the guts to ask you. 
“S-sure.” You mentally facepalmed at your stuttering yet again. He smiled at your response.
You spun around and walked to your bunk, your body warming up as you could feel Hunter’s presence behind you. You stopped at your bunk and turned towards him. You bit your lip.
“How do you plan on doing this?” He chuckled nervously. You noticed a hint of blush creeping up his face. 
“Well, I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “I figured that you just needed something to, uh, hug. So, I am offering myself as that something.” You stifled back a laugh at his awkwardness. You smiled.
“Well, okay.” You plopped on to your bunk and shifted against the wall, making sure there was enough room for Hunter. Hunter stiffly laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling.
By now his senses were out of control, you were right there. You smelled amazing, as always, and he could feel the heat radiating off of you. This made him sweaty and he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye.
You on the other hand were just happy that Hunter finally made some sort of move on you. You played with your fingers then finally turned to him. 
“So….” You smiled nervously. He turned to you and chuckled. 
“Umm…how do you want to do this?” He asked. You giggled.
“I was actually about to ask you the same thing.” Hunter breathed a laugh and smiled. Gosh, you loved that smile. The laughing ceased and you stared at each other for a few awkward seconds.
That is until, surprisingly, yet again, Hunter made the first move. He hesitantly reached his arm towards yours. He began to gently stroke your forearm, getting used to the feeling of touching you. You watched in wonder as he moved his hand to your waist. He finally looked up at you and you stared into his dark brown eyes.
He smiled and pulled you closer to him. You were shocked, your dreams were practically coming true right before your eyes. You gently placed your head on his chest and looked up at him in astonishment. He looked down at you. When you thought nothing could get better, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. You reciprocated and he placed his left hand on your face to gain better access. 
When you two finally pulled away, your faces were both completely red and hot. You stared at him for a few seconds then placed your head in your hands and breathed a laugh. Hunter chuckled.
“What is it?” You peered behind your fingers and smiled. 
“Nothing, I just wasn’t expecting that.” He laughed. He moved your hands away delicately and placed both of his around your face. 
“I actually wasn’t planning on this either,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I’ve been kind of distant. I just wasn’t sure how my abilities would deal with being so close and intimate with a person,” he paused and smiled. “But now I know that it makes me feel incredible.” Your smile widened. 
“I understand, thank you for telling me.” Hunter looked at you with complete adoration.
He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. He held onto you like there was no tomorrow, but at the same time held you like you were the most precious thing on the planet. He leaned down and whispered in your ear.
“Thanks for letting me be your pillow.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You were very satisfied that you found a new pillow to cuddle. 
330 notes · View notes
padfootagain · 11 months
Text
Complicated
Hello everyone! I’m answering a request today that was sent a few weeks ago! This request was sent by an anon : “Y/n is a new one of the main cast in S&B(In her 20s) She has a crush on Ben. Anyways she doesn't show it ofc and she was afraid if she will fit with the cast members or not.Yn is a bit shy and introverted. And we know how close Jessei and Ben are but it kinda upsets her cause She's not that close with Ben?!? Idk if I'm portraying it well or not but can you write something like that?!?”
I haven’t included the detail of the reader’s age… simply because the occasion didn’t arise in the fic as I was writing it, I hope it’s okay. So… fluff and a little bit of angst because we are writing for pining idiots and a slightly jealous reader…
I hope you enjoy your fic anon! And I hope everyone else enjoys it too! Tell me what you think about it!
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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader
Summary: Ben and you are working together on Shadow and Bone, and have grown closer and closer as the months flew by. But when you truly fall for him, everything becomes complicated…
Warnings: a slightly jealous reader. Some mutual pining. Lots of fluff.
Word count: 4171
Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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It’s complicated.
Everything is complicated.
Everything is a mess, and it’s all because of him.
You stare at Ben as he laughs, bubbly and merry and infectious…
You hate the way it makes you feel happy to see him that way. You hate that you can’t just walk over there, across the set, and kiss these lips of his that always seem to be calling for your own…
You can’t do it. You just can’t. It isn’t a possibility, because you’re working together, and he probably doesn’t even like you at all and…
You force your train of thoughts to stop. This is not the right place nor the right time to be contemplating your recent crush on your co-worker. Now, on the contrary, it is time to finish reading your lines one last time before being called for your scene.
But you’re distracted again when Archie nudges you.
“Hey, are you coming to Jessie’s party tonight?” he asks, shoving a small pastry into his mouth.
You smile at him, nodding your head.
“Sure, it sounds fun.”
You’re lying. Blatantly so. You’re not so much into parties like these, but you need to socialize to get along with your co-workers, and you want to fit in the cast. You’re only just arriving for this second season, after all. Even if the shooting has started several weeks ago, you’re still a little uncertain sometimes. But then again, maybe that’s because you always lack confidence…
“Awesome! It’ll be fun, you’ll see! Jessie always throws the best parties!”
You nod again, as if you knew what he is talking about, while already planning some fake excuses to go home early, and a strategy to remain as quiet and alone as possible during the event.
Damn, that introverted part of you really is a pain in the arse sometimes…
“Who’s coming? Everyone?” you ask, closing your script, aware that you will not be able to work before your scene now that your colleague has joined you.
“Yep! Having a hard time convincing our grandpa over there, though,” he jokes, nodding towards Ben. “He’s had a busy week, and he’s exhausted. But I’ll find a way to convince him, don’t worry. I want to get everyone coming tonight.”
“Nice!”
You hope he can manage to convince Ben. You truly do. Because… well, you have a crush on him, after all. A stupid, ridiculous, terribly serious crush on him. And if he can come tonight, the evening might not be so bad, after all…
Speaking of the devil…
Your heart quickens its pace as Ben approaches, a calm, comforting smile on his lips. He looks gentle and kind and a little mischievous, like he always does. He’s in full costume and make-up; dark scars running across his handsome features, and a long leathery coat embroidered with gold floating behind him. It doesn’t match, the scary and intimidating look against the softness in his dark eyes…
“What are you two troublemakers planning now?” he asks, his voice full of humour and teasing.
“Well, we’re talking about tonight. You know, the amazing party you’re planning on missing?” Archie answers.
“Ha… yes, at Jessie’s?”
“Yep!”
“I’ve had such a tiring week, I just want to sleep,” Ben admits.
He seems tempted nonetheless. After all, Jessie does throw the best parties.
“Come on! You don’t have to stay for too long, we’re used to you abandoning us before midnight. Come on, everyone but you has said yes already! Even Y/N is coming!”
Ben turns to you, hesitation intensifying on his features.
“You’re coming too?”
You nod.
“Yep! Sounds fun! You should come too. You can leave early, if you want. But it would be nice to have everyone around. Right, Archie?”
“Absolutely! Ben, you’re coming. That’s decided!”
Ben laughs, shaking his head.
“I haven’t said yes…”
“Now, come on. Y/N is asking you to come! Look at how disappointed she looks that you’re not coming…”
You feign a sad pout, batting your lashes, and Ben can’t refrain a laugh. He rolls his eyes but then again… if you’re coming…
Then, it gives him a perfect excuse to see you. He knows he shouldn’t think of you this way. Because this… silly, crazy, extremely intense crush he has on you can only make everything complicated. You’re working together, and you probably don’t even feel the same and…
… and yet, every time he sees you, his heart skips a beat. And he longs to see you, even if it’s just from across the room, and if he listened to himself, he would admit that he longs for far more than simply being near you…
But then again, it would make his life unbearably complicated. And you… you probably don’t feel the same, so why bother?
“Please, come to the party tonight!” you ask again, offering him a friendly smile. “You’re the person I know best in the cast, as we’ve had plenty of scenes together already… it’ll be less fun without you!”
Now, you’re looking at him with these pleading eyes, and you’re saying it’ll make you happy to see him there…
… how could he say no to that? How could he say no to you?
He heaves a sigh, but nods anyway.
“Alright, alright… I’ll come.”
“Yes!”
Archie and you share a high-five, while Ben keeps on laughing at the two of you.
But then again… if he can see you a little longer, outside of the studio, it’s worth the dark bags that will grow even more under his eyes…
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Ben is blowing his cheeks, miming something big and round. You have no idea what he’s doing, and look at him with round eyes, scraping in every corner of your mind… what on Earth is he doing?
He adds a moustache with a finger under his nose and frowns hard, as if he’s angry and disdainful… Still, you’ve got no clue… it could be anyone…
His face changes back to his normal demeanour, and traces something that looks like a lightning bolt on his forehead…
And you got it! At last!
“Dursley! Vernon Dursley!”
Ben claps his hands and cheers, right as the timer rings. It was the last round of charades for the night, and as Ben comes to join you on the sofa, giving you a high-five for this last guess of yours, you’re all awaiting the final results.
You know the results are close… Jessie and Freddy have done an amazing job tonight as well. You wait for Calahan to count the last points, Danielle peering over his large shoulder to get a glimpse while she sips on her glass of red wine.
It’s merry. You’re happy to have come to the party, in the end. It’s still quite early, you know the mood is shifting to a more ‘partying’ colour, and you have no doubts that after this game, Kit is going to put on some music and start some kind of dancing competition. You know you’ll like this part of the night a little less, but so far, it’s almost 11 and you’re quite happy and at ease still.
Besides, Fortune decided to pair you up with Ben for this game, when you drew his name from one of Jessie’s hats. And as he sits down next to you, making the cushion bend a little under his weight, as he shifts next to you to get comfortable, as he leans forward to grab his glass of wine on the coffee table, as his shoulder brushes against yours with each of his movements…
Yes, the evening isn’t so bad, after all…
“Oh, we have some winners…” Calahan theatrically raises up his hands, picking the sheet of paper holding the results. “And the winners are… Ben and Y/N!”
Ben and you cheer, and you are quite surprised when he pulls you in a tight hug.
Warm. Safe. That’s the best way to describe his embrace, even if it lasts just a couple of seconds. It’s enough to make your head spin, your heart race under your ribs, you’re intoxicated already with his soft wooden smell…
But he pulls away soon, too soon… he has to. Breathing in your sweet perfume, and holding you close, feeling the air leaving your lungs to collide with his cheek and ear… it’s too much for him to handle. He’s already blushing, he can’t let you see how he feels…
It feels cold when he pulls away, empty. His embrace is filled with air again, and he hates it. You seemed to fit so well in his arms, your warmth spreading through his frame…
He pushes the thought away. This evening is nice, merry, full of light. He enjoys it. He knows that Kit will soon turn on the music, and he’ll soon be a little bit bored, as he won’t take part in the dancing. It’s alright, though. He hopes you won’t dance either. He hopes you’ll stay a little bit longer…
Around the two of you, people are teasing your team, saying you’ve cheated, laughing at your outraged faces. It’s fun and light-hearted.
The back of your hand brushes Ben’s as you shift on the couch, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. It’s electrifying, this sensation…
You need to stay a little longer to the party, just to socialize, to make sure you’ll fit in with the group. But you have to admit that you’re a little bit uncomfortable when Kit starts the music, and most people start dancing.
You decide that you deserve a little bit of intimacy, and excuse yourself to the bathroom.
You stay there a few minutes, just to recharge your social batteries a little. You’re hesitating between aiming for the kitchen or the sofa as you walk out the tiny room. The kitchen will be a little quieter, you reckon. But then again, Ben will probably be in the living room…
You’re smiling at the thought of talking to him again when you step in the living room. Everybody is dancing, except for Freddy and Amita who are chatting, sitting on the couch. You’re looking for Ben, but can’t spot him anywhere. He’s not dancing, and you’re not surprised. You aim for the kitchen.
He’s standing there alright. A glass in his hand, he’s leaning against the counter, laughing with Jessie. She leans against him, they’re standing against each other.
And you can’t help it. You wish you could stop the feeling from spreading through your veins, but you can’t. You wish you could stop yourself from being jealous, but you can’t…
Apparently, there’s nothing romantic between these two, but sometimes… like now… you envy their connection.
Because Ben doesn’t lean against you like that. He doesn’t laugh so hard with you. He doesn’t… he doesn’t act like that with you. And perhaps that’s yet another sign that he doesn’t see anything more than a friend in you…
You take a deep breath, turning around to face the dancing group again. The music is loud and pulsing. After seeing Ben like this… it’s a little too much…
“Hey, Y/N!”
You don’t turn around to face Ben, even if he’s calling you. Instead, you ignore him, act like you haven’t heard anything, and stride across the room. Your feet guide you to the front door, and you grab your coat as you hurry out of the apartment.
You feel ridiculous for feeling this way. You have no rights to be jealous, you’re nothing more than a friend to him. Still… still it hurts to see him so close to someone else…
“Y/N!”
You freeze. You’re waiting for the elevator, in the middle of the corridor. It smells of cigarettes, the white walls a little bit yellowed by nicotine and tobacco…
“Y/N? Where are you going?”
You turn around, at last. You can’t avoid it anymore. Ben is standing there, on the threshold of Jessie’s apartment. He’s frowning, staring at you. He doesn’t seem angry though, only taken aback.
The doors of the elevator open behind you, bathing your frame in a cold white light. They open fully with a little ‘ding’. You struggle to swallow, before you can speak, extending your arm inside the elevator to keep its doors open for you.
“I’m going home. I’m tired. Besides… dancing isn’t my strong suit so… better head out,” you explain, hoping that Ben won’t notice the way your voice is shaking.
He seems disappointed. If he wanted to hide his reaction, he’s bad at it. He gives you a smile anyway.
“Okay… Humm… Would you mind if I walked to the subway with you?”
“Don’t you want to stay a little longer?”
“Not really. I’m knackered. You had to convince me to come, remember?”
“Right… okay then.”
Ben disappears for a mere second, just to grab his coat. Soon, you’re entering the elevator together.
He has a shy but warm smile on his lips. He can’t really summon anything else right now. You’re standing right next to him, you don’t seem to mind that your shoulders and arms are brushing against each other. He does though. He minds terribly, because it makes his heart pounder in his chest, and he can’t breathe properly. He can feel butterflies starting their flight across his stomach, and he can’t take any more of it. He takes a step back.
It breaks your heart. The way he adds distance between the two of you, when earlier with Jessie he…
You push the thought away as the doors open again, and you hurry out of the tiny space in favour of the large hall of the building, then the street.
It’s springtime in Budapest, the air is still chilly despite the warmth that has started to rise during the day. But now, it’s night time and the air is cold and makes you shiver despite your coat. You welcome the feeling though, it makes you forget Ben’s warmth…
“You’re calling for a cab?” Ben asks, standing right behind you.
But you shake your head.
“No, I’ll just walk for a bit. Then take the bus.”
“Alright…”
“You’re calling a taxi?”
“No… No, I thought… do you mind if I join you?”
“No… not at all.”
His smile is brighter this time, and you can’t help the way it makes your heart skip a beat. You match his smile without even noticing…
Soon, you’ve settled in a leisurely pace. None of you seem willing to hurry. Why would you? You both long to spend as much time together as possible…
Ben is the first to break the silence that has settled between the two of you. In the distance, traffic hums in a regular pattern. There is a rhythm to the night. Still busy despite the darkness and the glimmering lights. It’s a little shushed though, distant. It comes only out of the large streets and boulevards, the small alleys are quiet, sleepy. As you walk further down the street, bathed in the golden streetlights, you tighten your hold on your coat. The wind pushes papers abandoned on the street, they roll in a shuffling noise that matches the rustling of the tree leaves.
“Any plans for the weekend?” Ben asks, burying his hands in the pockets of his black jacket.
“No… just sleep. A lot of rest. And some lines to learn,” you give him an amused smile, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, I feel your pain.”
“What about you?”
“Same, basically. Have a busy week coming again.”
“Yeah… they seem determined to make you work crazy hours these days.”
“It’s okay. I’m used to it by now. I just hope to catch on some sleep this weekend, so I won’t have to hide these dark bags under my eyes with too much make up.”
You chuckle, and he wishes you could laugh. A full-on laugh. He likes the sound of these…
Jessie’s words come back to his mind, right when he saw you leaving her apartment. He remembers what she told him, and it bothers him.
You should stop overthinking it and tell her while you still have a chance.
Is there someone else in your life? And why did you leave like this? You were almost… running away…
Maybe Jessie’s right. Everyone on set seems to have picked up that he likes you. That he has a crush on you. Maybe he should stop thinking so much about the consequences but… he can’t help it. He’s a rational man. He wishes, sometimes, for a little bit more freedom. For a little bit more naivety in his actions. But he’s lived long enough to learn that one ought to think before acting.
He heaves a sigh, without noticing, busy with his own thoughts. It makes you look up at him with a frown.
“Ben? You’re okay?”
“Hmm? Yeah, sure.”
“Why this desperate sigh, then?” you tease, amused.
“I’m sorry, I was… lost in thought…”
“Come on, tell me! A penny for your thought!”
You’re cute. It’s almost annoying how adorable you look right now. A glint of mischief alit in your eyes, and a tender smile on your lips. You look soft, domestic almost, holding tightly your coat around your frame. He wishes he could wrap an arm around you, pull you to him, use the excuse of the chilly weather to keep you close. But he knows you’re shy, introverted, and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He knows he’s a tactile kind of guy, but not everyone is. He doesn’t want to go too far.
Besides… if he does hold you close… will his poor little heart survive?
But he’s being ridiculous with all this. He’s not a teenager anymore. He knows how life works, how relationships work, what his feelings for you mean. He’s got to stop being so shy around you. Jessie says you like him too… maybe she’s right…
If he’s wrong, everything will become complicated. But then again… sometimes… complicated is nicer than simple.
He takes a deep breath, before diving…
“Actually… I was wondering… do you have someone in your life?”
Your eyes widen, your eyebrows shoot up… you look more than surprised…
“I… no, I’m single. Why?”
Ben shrugs, trying to calm his racing heart.
“Just… I was just wondering.”
“You?”
“Me?”
You chuckle, as he doesn’t seem to understand what you mean.
“What about you? Are you single?” you repeat, and he blushes hard, silently cursing himself.
What a moron…
“I’m single too,” he answers.
“I… why are you asking me this though?”
He notices how you shy away a little. How you bend your head. How nervous you look.
But he can’t back down this time. He’s got to do something about all this.
“Just… asking.”
“Why?”
“I thought… maybe we could… go have some diner together? Or a coffee? Or… anything you’d like, really.”
You freeze. You stop dead, standing still in the middle of the street. In a nearby alley, you hear someone singing drunkenly. You ignore the sound though. You merely stare at Ben. He’s so handsome like this, his frame tainted golden under a lamppost…
“Are you… asking me on a date?” you stutter.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Why?”
Ben blinks, an amused smile appearing on his lips.
“Why do you think I’m asking you on a date? Because I… want to go on a date with you.”
“Yes, but… I… me?”
His smile falters, he looks down at his feet, kicks into an invisible pebble, his hands still buried in his pockets. He doesn’t want you to see the way he clenches his fists…
“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I get it. It’s not going to be the first time a woman says no…”
“I’m not saying no!”
“Are you saying yes, then?”
“I just… I thought…”
But then, you remember the way he acts with Jessie, and he’s not like this with you. He didn’t offer you his arm as you walked together, the way he always does when she’s around and he…
You shake your head. You like him. If you’re to be honest with yourself, you do feel a little bit more than a crush for him. A lot more, actually.
But you’re not stupid. You’re not a teenager anymore, you know how these things work. And you don’t want to get your heart broken.
Maybe he’s just doing this to make her jealous… the thought breaks your heart…
“I don’t think you mean that,” you answer earnestly.
Ben looks up at you again, frowning hard.
“What?”
“We’re working together…”
“I know… but I don’t think it would be a problem. But then again… I can wait. If you want us to finish shooting the show before we can go on a date… I’ll wait. I’ll ask you again once we’re not working together anymore.”
You know he means it. You can see it in his brown eyes. Brown… they’re fully black though. You can’t see where his irises start, where his pupils end…
His gaze is earnest as much as it is hypnotic.
You’re more puzzled than ever.
“But… I thought… you and Jessie…”
But Ben rolls his eyes, almost annoyed.
“We’re friends. Nothing more. People like gossiping, that’s all.”
“I’ve seen the way you act with her. You two are very close.”
“And?”
“And… I thought you… were like that…”
“She’s just a friend.”
“But you’re not like that with me.”
He frowns again, but lets you continue.
“You’re… not… close to me. Not like that. I thought it was because… because you’re closer to her, than you are with me.”
“It’s just different.”
“You’re always touching and hugging everyone… but not me. It’s not just Jessie… I think it’s about me. I thought you were… friendly with me. That’s all.”
“I just…”
He lets out a breathy chuckle.
“You make me nervous,” he admits, and there’s something a little sad in his smile now. Or… not quite sad but… fragile. “Besides… you’re shy. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I like hugs, but I’m also aware some people don’t like that.”
“I like hugs,” you answer.
Which is quite ridiculous, and Ben can’t help but laugh.
“Good to know.”
He takes a step closer, his heart beating so fast. He hasn’t felt so giddy and excited and utterly nervous in years… what are you doing to him?
“I like you,” he confesses in a breath, letting it all out in a shaky whisper, and you stop breathing altogether at the sound. “I like you… a lot. And I’m just… nervous and… afraid to make you uncomfortable. But I… Y/N you can’t imagine how much I want to hold you right now and… touch you and… kiss you and…”
“Do it then.”
He falls silent, and you do too. Because it isn’t really like you to be so bold, but you can’t help it. You’re not really thinking anymore. His words register into your brain, you make sense of them, and you want him to do everything he’s saying out loud, and that’s all you know, all that you’re aware of. That, and the fact that he’s standing very close to you, maybe a little too close, close enough for your chests to brush against each other as you fill up your lungs with air…
“What did you say?” he asks, his voice shaking.
He’s searching for something in your eyes. You think it might be reassurance…
“I said that you should do it.”
“It?”
“All that you’ve just said.”
A crooked smile appears on his lips, his hands coming out of his pockets to reach up towards your cheeks.
“Even the part where I’m kissing you?”
You smile, nodding.
“Especially that part, I think.”
“Alright… but then… can we have a date.”
“Okay. But… everything is going to be complicated. Like… we work together and… and it’s going to be a mess and…”
“Y/N?”
“Yes?”
His palms have reached your cheeks, warm and a little calloused, and you adore the feeling. You lean into his touch, his fingertips lost in your hair.
“Do you want me to kiss you now?” he asks, leaning closer, his lips bare centimetres away from yours.
“Yes. Yes, I do… but…”
“Then let’s just get things impossibly complicated… and let’s kiss too.”
You’ve closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm breath fanning against your mouth and…
… and then he closes the gap between you. And it’s gentle, almost shy. Delicate. It becomes more heated though, after he pulls away for a second, just long enough to change the angle of his lips upon yours, so he can have better access to your mouth, so he can deepen the kiss and…
Christ, that is too good… too good to be true…
When you part, you’re both out of breath.
“So… are you convinced that I like you now?” Ben asks, brushing his nose against yours.
You open your eyes again, just to fall in his gaze.
“Kind of, yes.”
“So… What about Sunday for the date?”
*********************
Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic
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babe, first of all, I hope you doing well 🥰 and second, but not least important, i'll do love if write some toxic fluffy whith jack, where, after a argument, she hurts or puts herself in dangerous just to get revenge, but nothing really serius happens to her, they reconizing they're not in a helth reletionship, but they gonna try to be better for eachother, you also can add some smut if you like, but this is not part of the request. hope you liked the idea, but if you don't, let me know
xoxo
My dearest anon...this is a lot of things but not exactly fluffy and I'm sorry if I went too hard on it but toxic Jack Thurlow had me short circuiting 😵‍💫😵‍💫
The Pain Remains
Summary: This time you really lost the plot for good and now all you can do is to clean up your act.
Pairing: Jack Thurlow x fem!Reader
Word Count: ~1.6k
Content Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! 18+!, Grim Dark Smut, Active Self Harm, Jealousy, Borderline Very Toxic Relationship, Two Idiots In Love Trying To Do Better, It's Very Mentally Ill In Here, Mutual Substance Abuse, Very Shitty Coping Mechanisms, Strong Hints Towards Sex Addiction, Mentions Of Public Sex, Angsty As Fuck, Positive Ending, Tho 🙆🏻‍♀️!
A/N: I know, this is a rather heavy one and if anyone of you feels the need to talk to someone: My DMs are always open. Don't hesitate to reach out!🖤
Tagging The Squad:
@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @roryculkinsbf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @b4sementgrl @blueberrypancakesworld
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If the past is just dust
Then the future could be our dream
If all we have is now, this eternity
Ignite my satisfaction, engulf me
- The Pain Remains I By Lorna Shore
Before you even really woke up, you were forced to acknowledge the raging hangover headache in your head. With eyes closed shut, you turned to the side, your hand haphazardly roaming over the silhouette of Jack's body, looking for a glimpse of comforting body heat or just anything to get your racing mind to shut up for a second.
How did you get into bed? At what time did you fall onto the mattress next to him?
You had no clue about any of that as you pressed your body against his back, the pungent aftertaste of cheap rum still lingering heavily on your tongue.
"Fucking hell…" You groaned into the nape of his neck, your nose buried deep in his curly, brown hair and yet you could still smell the remnants of last night's pot extravaganza all throughout the bedroom.
What in the everloving fuck had the two of you been up to last night? With relentlessly firing synapses and painfully overdriven neurons you searched your mind for answers, a flicker of a memory, at this point anything, really.
You couldn't help yourself but to let your face contort into various tortured grimaces as the rest of your body slowly came to. Your stomach felt horribly fucked and in dire need for something solid, although the mere thought of food alone had you nearly gagging. No, you needed something else to take the edge off before you even so much as got out of bed.
Whilst inhaling deep, unsteady breaths, you soaked in the calming smell of Jack's body; a mixture of pheromone-loaded sweat, musky deodorant and soft hints of vanilla coke.
Vanilla coke spiked with cheap rum. Your stomach dropped and turned in every possible direction at the reminder. Nearly every weekend played out in the same shit show again and again: Booze to kill the anxiety, weed to elevate your spirit and nearly deranged amounts of sex to eradicate and simply drown out every last painful sentiment that could possibly be felt.
On that notion your lips curled up into a crooked smile whilst your reader fingertips grazed down your boyfriends gently rising and falling again chest, gingerly drawing a circle or two around his navel before eventually tapping down to the waistband of his black and gray checkered shorts, a throbbing case of morning wood straining against the fabric already. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth in a low gasp, you simply indulged yourself and allowed your hand to slip right past the waistband, fingers wrapping themselves around Jack's girth tenderly.
"Goddamn minx!" Jack hissed into the darkened bedroom and involuntarily jutted his hips against your hand.
"Want me to stop?" You whispered into the soft skin of his shoulder before biting down on it teasingly.
"No, please.", His voice was raspy enough to give you a broad idea about how much the two of you must've smoked last night, "I'm equal parts hungover and horny as fuck."
"Yeah, I thought so." You snickered while you started fisting his cock, generously smearing the pre-cum all over the sensitive tip to not stroke him sore with a dry palm.
"You're a fucking menace, you know that?" Jack stuttered, choking back a breathy moan while rocking is lap in quick rolls, practically fucking himself into your grip.
"Says the lunatic who'll take every and any given chance to fumble me in public? Finger fucking me in the cinema, really?" With a mischievous grin spreading all across your face, you fondly remembered that happening a few days ago.
"C'mon, you enjoyed that, cumming all over the seat like you did." Jack shot right back at you.
"Fair enough." You agreed, tightening the grip around his hard on slightly to drag a shaky sigh from his lips.
"Fuck, you know I can't last long that early into the day." Jack practically whined out, his hips thrusting harshly against your hand while you jerked him off.
"Oh, poor, little Jack." Your playfully mocking voice got lost in the glossy curls of his hair as you felt his entire body turning stiff against your torso.
"Say that again… please!" Jack was clearly about to come undone, needing that little push of humiliation to push past the threshold.
"Oh, you sick fuck.", You sneered into his ear, the tip of your nose hardly touching its shell, "Poor, little Jack Thurlow creaming his boxers just after a few minutes already, huh?"
"Good god, fuck, you're so mean!" It cascaded out of his mouth in a guttural moan as he rutted against your hand in a few last, shaky thrusts before white-hot ropes of cum ruined his boxers and your hand alike.
The milky fluid spouted all over your fingers and eventually down your wrist, causing a very sudden, sharp pinch of simmering pain.
"What the hell?!" You hissed and withdrew your hands from Jack's crotch, raising it up for the both of you to stare right at the scene of the crime.
"What…" Jack mumbled under his breath, his eyes going wide in shock.
Thin yet vigorous cuts thrown all over your wrist, bright red with inflammation and laced with a milky layer of Jack's cum, laughing right in your face about the current state of your mental health.
"What…no…NO!" Your voice flailed and trembled as you stared at your wrist with thrashing disbelief.
"I was clean for a year! This…this isn't happening, no!" A dull pang of pain shot right through your dehydrated head as you basically jumped off the mattress and stumbled towards the bathroom, nearly tripping over scattered clothing and a glass bong.
Unbridled waves of shame and disgusting rippled through your system as a supernova of blacked-out memories decided to implode inside your head. You'd been pissed last night, even furious with Jack about something…yeah..fuck..a call. Was it call? Yeah, of course, a call from is ex-fiancé Cleo, that fucking cunt. Dumped him because she couldn't handle Jack the way you could and now trying to patch things up again. Stupid twat.
"Hey, wait!" You heard Jack calling out to you from behind, coming right after you.
Your out of control body fell against the door frame of the bathroom as you hurried towards the sink, yanking at the faucet for icy cold water to cascade over your violated wrist. It stung and you winced at the sharp pain.
"Are you okay? What the hell happened!?" Jack huffed, only stopping in steps as he was right behind you, making his presence known by cupping your jittery frame with his body, his chin resting on your shoulder as his slender hands wrapped themselves around yours under the running faucet.
His thumb ghosted over the cuts, gently washing himself off of your sore skin.
"Obviously not, asshole!" It shot right out of you and you regretted it immediately.
"Hey, watch that mouth! Right now is not the time for that." He mumbled into the crook of your neck.
"Fuck, sorry… I really lost the plot this time, huh?" Your voice was but a meak whimper.
"Maybe, but I got you. This is a temporary setback, yes, but not the end of the world, you hear me?" His tone rendered soft as he tried to calm you down.
"The cuts are shallow and if we take good care of them they'll heal without leaving a single scar. It'll be okay, yeah?" By now the water numbed your wrist out to the point that you didn't feel his thumb wiping you clean anymore.
"Uh-huh…I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry for being such a fucking psycho, Jack." The shame and self-loathing doubled down on you, dragging you into an inevitable breakdown.
"Stop that right there! You're not a psycho and I don't love you any less, you understand?", He pressed himself to you as impossibly close as he could, "A little slip up like that won't scare me. I'll go through that hell right here with you, I promise. I'll never go anywhere and just leave you like that."
Everything inside of you came falling down, every painful emotion amped up by the raging hangover that ruled over your shaking muscles and you just let yourself fall against Jack in eventual defeat.
"I got you and we'll handle that together!"
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srslyscary · 1 month
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heyyy, do u do x black reader if so could you do a fluffy lee know fic. where him and reader are just apart of a silly friend group with lots of mutuals and lee knows always kinda just had a lil thing for reader.
but then reader is kinda just noticing lee know is there and then just boom. fell in love immediately idk…
lowkey like mutuals to lovers if that makes any sense?…
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a lover’s eye
| Contents: SFW , reader is written as she/her but can be considered gn, friends to lovers, made up friend names, black!reader, lee know is referred to as his biological name
tysm for the request anon!! I love this idea so so much. I’m not all that sure if you wanted me to add reader & Lee Know in a SKZ friend group or a random one so I just stuck with the random one! i hope this is okay! I had the idea of them both having feelings for each other but not realizing it till “now”.
I also hope you’re well and taking care of yourself! much love <3
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“minho, dude… you’ve been staring at her for the past 10 minutes.” a voice spoke, pulling the male out of his small trance.
“…huh? staring at who?” He said, looking over to his friend. “YN— who else? you’ve been giving her googly eyes ever since she first arrived-“
Minho shushed him loudly with a glare on his face, looking as if he would smack the other male. “Ya- Injae! How many times do I have to tell you to keep it down? Loud mouth.” He sighed, looking back over to the female he was previously eyeing. “I wasn’t staring. I was just— admiring her!”
“Yeah— Kay. Dude If you have a thing for her It’s no biggie, I mean the whole friend group can kind of tell. Besides YN of course— I wouldn’t say she’s oblivious but.. it’s also obvious she doesn’t have a clue.” Injae stood up from where he was sitting, looking for the other members of the group. YN was currently talking to Jia, one of the girls of their friend group.
Their little group consisted of the silliest kids around the block. Jia, Injae, YN, Eunji, Rae, and of course Minho. They were all very close with one another, sharing memorable experiences with each other. YN was rather unique, some would say. Although all were Korean, YN was the only black female who could speak fluent Korean. To Minho… that’s what made her so special. Just her presence made his body and chest feel weird.
“Ya, Injae. Do you think the weird feeling I get when I look at YN.. relates to me having a ‘thing’ for her?” Minho tilts his head slightly, looking at the girl’s features as he waited for his other friend to talk. “Well yeah, I mean it’s just normal to feel that way when you’re crushing on someone.”
“You idiot. i know It’s normal. I just— i wanted to make sure. That’s all.” He looked down at his lap from where he was sitting, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. Injae looked down at his friend, and chuckled. He looked back to YN, and all the friends that were surrounding them. They were all gathered around waiting for the Rae to arrive since they planned to have an ‘out day’ today.
“Just tell her how you feel man. I’m sure she’ll—“ “Don’t even finish that. It’s not that simple.” Minho leaned his head back , running his fingers through his hair. “And why not? It’s not like you guys aren’t friends. You talk to her everyday, and you’re both in the same friend group.” Injae sighed irritably, checking his phone. “Goddamnit.. where the hell is Rae? He was supposed to be here an hour ago..”
Minho took this time to think, to really think about what decisions he should make. YN was beautiful, stunning even. She had the face and voice of a goddess, she was funny, and never failed to make him smile at least a tiny bit.. even if the jokes weren’t directly to him. It wasn’t like YN hadn’t noticed him, part of what Injae said was true— he talked to her everyday, trying to spark up some conversations.
“Yo, Minho.” A finger tapped him, yet again bringing him out of his own little world. Looking up, he saw that exact goddess. She eyed him down with a blank look, her shadow against the sun made her look like a real angel. “Whatcha still doin’ sittin’ down? Rae jus’ got here. Cmon.” YN chuckled, smiling at the male with the softest eyes. Oh how he loved those eyes..
“Sorry. Got lost in thought.” He said, getting up from his place of rest. YN waved her hand as if dismissing him, looking at him one last time before walking ahead. Minho caught up to the girl, as the rest of the friend group walked together. “Soo..”
“Got sum to say say?” She said, taking her phone out to look at herself. “No, it’s fine.” “Aight.” Minho watched her trinket with the small features on her face adjusting whatever she needed. God, she was so beautiful. Her brown skin that shone in the sun, her perfect curves, her pretty face, she was simply so divine to him. “Minho, you’re staring.” YN was finished checking herself out, looking at him again as she noticed his looks a while ago. “What?— I wasn’t staring, there was just something on your shoulder.“
“Yeah right. You’re dog shit at lying. I caught yo ass in the act. Y’know you can’t hide shit from me, Min.” She shook her head, looking forward. In truth, she herself wanted him to keep looking. Everytime she looked at him, she felt a little spark go off somewhere in her. She enjoyed his presence as much as he did her, even if both didn’t know of it.
Soon the friend group arrived to their little destination, a small carnival next to a bridge. Water laid low under the bridge, the sun setting only slightly. “Hell yeah! The carnival! Let’s go!” Rae yelled as he ran ahead inside. “Rae wait for us!” Eunji yelled right after as she dragged Jia along. Injae laughed as he turned to Minho and YN. “You two coming?”
YN turned to the bridge with a blank face, “Nah. I think imma go over there. Take a look at the view.” She pointed back to the bridge, with a small smile and a hand on one hip. “Sure— Minho?” Injae turned his head slightly to the male, who looked quite conflicted. “I uh— I think I’ll stay with YN.”
Injae looked surprised but chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright cool. I’ll save some snacks for ya!” He waved, running ahead to catch up with the others. YN waved, turning back to the bridge with a smile. Minho turned with her, but kept his eyes on the girl. The sunset made her look as if she was in a movie, the wind blowing against her hair.
“Yo, Minho— cmon. I wanna go see the view.” She grabbed his hand, walking ahead with quick speed. Minho simply let her, realizing they were basically holding hands. His heart quickened— he was actually holding her hand? He was almost ecstatic, even if his face said otherwise. YN continued to pull his hand until they reached the bars of the bridge, keeping their hands held together and looking down to see the water.
“Ain’t it pretty Min?” He only looked at her, not giving her an answer as his hand tightened with hers. “Mmh— what was the question?” He looked out into the view, watching the sun set. “The view, dumbass. You’re supposed to agree that the view is fye.” She said shaking her head. “Fye?”
YN looked at him, laughing. Her pretty lip gloss on her plump lips, her skin that was nearly sunkissed, her smile— he noticed it all. The girl stopped laughing, looking at him with a soft smile. Her heartbeat quickened at that moment, swallowing with the little shallow breaths she let out. “Min—“
“I love you.” He interrupted quickly, eyes widening as he realized what he just said. “Wait wait I- i didn’t mean to say that—“ he quickly said, letting go of her hand to back up slightly. He looked down at his shoes, frowning as he looked flabbergasted. And so did she, shocked that those 3 words even came out of his mouth. Minho didn’t even know why he said that, it was just the spur of the moment and he felt like he should say something, but not THAT. She shook her head again, looking at his head.
“Funny.” She grabbed his hand again, intertwining them. “That’s real funny coming from yo ass. Never thought you wouldeva say that to me.” She said smiling at him, as she waited for him to look up. Minho looked up, his eyes met with YN’s. And there that feeling was again, his heart was racing— the world seemed to slow down for that slight moment.
“Love you too Minho.” She tilted her head, her hair blowing in the wind once again. “wait really?” She nodded, smiling even brighter. “Thought it was obvious? I liked you for a while. You’re just my type I guess. You’re fine as hell, and I’m always smiling with you. I thought maybe you didn’t like me like that, ‘s why i’m kinda iffy on having conversations with you.” Minho held her hand tight, looking at the view. “So.. you’re saying you wanna.. be together?”
“If YOU wanna. I’m aight with whateva—“ “I want to.” She looked at his side profile, watching him gaze out at the last rays of the sunlight. She chuckled, or really giggled. “Now i can officially call you my man.”
“…hm. I guess I can call you my girl now.”
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zarazmnie-cos · 1 year
Text
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❝ [don't you know i want you so bad?] ¡! ❞
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requested? yes, for 🦆 anon !
contains: park jihoon x fem!reader; enemies to lovers!au, fake relationship!au; smut, teeny bit of angst ig, some fluff; make out, fingering, teasing?? griding/dry humping, slight marking, begging if you squint???, unprotected piv (yall better wrap it up), nipple play, implied round two ig; lmk if i missed anything
words: approx. 2.8k
a/n: im not gonna even pretend i live atp but i hope you will enjoy this one. yes, it is rushed, not finished, but i still think it looks decent. lemme know ur thoughts on this one bcuz i love feedback <3 masterlist here
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AS A NUMBER ONE PARK JIHOON HATER, YOU HAD NO IDEA WHAT OTHER PEOPLE SAW IN HIM THAT MADE THEM ADORE HIM. HE WAS HANDSOME INDEED, BUT BESIDES THAT, HIS ONE HELL OF EXISTENCE WAS ENOUGH TO BRING YOU TO MADNESS. JUST HIS PRESENCE MADE YOUR BLOOD BOIL.  
being neighbors with such someone who dared to call itself “human” was tough. seeing him a lot of times, happy and unbothered by the fact he ruined your dreams, definitely didn’t help in developing positive feelings towards that idiot. in fact, keeping those grudges inside as fuel for your hatred felt therapeutic. and it longed all the way from your childhood to adulthood.
you hoped for him to finally leave your life. it didn’t really matter in what way, you just wanted to never see him again. so why did you look out the window every time he was passing by?
saying these feelings were mutual would be a lie. but jihoon would never let you know that. 
“what do you want?” you asked, seeing him by your door again that day. “i don’t have any money. i wouldn’t lend you it anyway.”
“what do i want? to not suffer anymore, i guess. and to live a peaceful life with someone.”
“okay?” looking at him, confused, you reached out for the doorknob to close the door and end this meaningless conversation. 
“can i come in?”
“why?” now that was sus. jihoon’s tone got a bit more serious, even tired. he always seemed to be full of energy, confident, and untroubled. so what was going on?
“i need to talk to you. in private.”
still staring at him from under your furrowed brows, after a moment of hesitation, you let him inside. as he took off his shoes and went inside the living room, you decided to make some tea. from his tone, it seemed it will be a tough conversation.
and oh boi, was it one hell of a confusing ride. for you, at least.
“so, to conclude,” you started after a moment of silence. “you want me to act as your girlfriend? you know i hate you with all my heart, right? and the fact that i could murder you right here, right now is incredibly possible?”
“but you listened to me, so i don’t think it is that possible.” 
“get out.” shaking your head at his words, you got up from the couch, ready to mind your own business. 
“let me know when you’ll think it through,” jihoon said softly, looking at you with a smile. oh, you wanted to punch him so badly, but he left before you could even form your hand into a fist. dang, now it felt kind of lonely in here.
“damn you, park jihoon!” 
a few days have passed by and these were the calmest and the quietest days of your life. no one was bothering you, no one was bickering with you, and no one actually talked to you. at first, you enjoyed that silence. you managed to get some work done and sleep better. though with almost no time, it started to feel lonely. almost like you don’t matter that much to people. especially to that one person.
“if you really have no balls to admit you are as lonely as a stick, then fine.” 
you had no idea why you still had jihoon’s number on your phone. heck, you had no idea why you even got it in the first place, but now it was convenient. you had to battle yourself whether to call or say it in person. surprisingly, agreement to his plan came to your head without much hesitation, but you thought nothing of it. the fact that you could toy with him and maybe get a small revenge was motivating.
although you thought of it as a sort of revenge (and that you already got a plan for how to do it), at the same time it just felt wrong. you had no idea why, but using his feelings like that seemed to be brutal, even for you. 
jihoon came by the next day to talk through all the details of this plan, and boi, was it one heck of a plan.
“wait, hold on, i have to write it all down,” you interrupted him, trying to process all the information he bombed you with. as you got up from your seat to look for some kind of a notebook, his hand stopped you from doing so.
“don’t, or else it won’t feel natural. what if anyone finds these notes, huh?” the worries and desperation in his tone were crystal clear; this whole situation really must’ve been important as hell. and it was actually sus.
“fine, but don’t come for me when i mess something up.”
“i’m pretty sure you won’t.”
the urge to say “eh?” was too big, but in the end, you just ignored his words. you got back on the topic, and the explanations began again.
the most suspicious thing in all of it was that he chose you. every time you asked him why it must be you, he managed to change the topic, smoothly avoiding answering your questions. since he loved to rile you up and make your blood boil just for funsies, him getting so serious about a fake relationship with you especially just wasn’t adding up. too many loose ends in his reasoning, but all of them were covered flawlessly. apparently, all you had to do was just sit, look pretty (or at least alive), and play along.
what was even more surprising, was the way you didn’t even think about screwing the whole situation up. well, almost. at first, a few times the urge to say “it’s a prank” was too big to handle, but in the end, none of this happened. you really could pat yourself on the back for the way you kept yourself in place, which was tough around park jihoon himself.
the worst thing in that fake relationship was skinship and intimacy in general. yeah, you had a few boyfriends before, but dang it, around jihoon it felt so... weird. weird as in good, and that was why it felt weird. it was park jihoon, you were supposed to hate him, not leaning in for a kiss! what the fuck! 
still, what kept you sane through all this acting was the thought of flipping it all against him one day. someday. though with every next day, every next move of his, every next nice and gentle act from him, this first thought managed to fade away, getting replaced by some sort of yearning. yearning for this act to be real.
it all felt some sort of... illegal. illegal as in a way of betraying yourself. illegal as in a way of “you shouldn’t be doing this” and “that is not how you were raised” way. though everyone around seemed to be happy about this magnificent act, you weren’t so sure and so happy about it. but how not lean into this act when it felt so good? when it felt like you were finally yourself? and when it felt like you actually had someone by your side? when it didn’t feel so lonely?
“what’s going on, sweetheart?”
“don’t call me that when there’s no one around. no one is watching.” you snapped back almost immediately, as in a way of punishment for this cute nickname. getting back on track, you came back to chopping carrots. the dinner won’t make itself, and since this piece of rotten flesh is around, you had to busy your hands with something.
“but it rolls so nicely out of the tongue,” jihoon whined, pouting and finally moving around so you won’t see his painfully handsome face. “but fine, if you don’t want, i won’t.”
all you heard in your head was the windows xp error sound right now. wait a damn minute, did he actually respect your boundaries outside the act? what was happening to him?
noticing how you stopped every movement, even breathing, you came back to your body and continued with your life. taking a sharp breath, you chopped those carrots like your life depended on it. 
jihoon was silent. way too silent. why? because he was thinking as well. even thinking too much. should he tell you? should he ask? but what if you just laugh it off? or make fun of him? will he lose his face when he’ll do that?
“here. have this.”
dang it, he was thinking so long you managed to make a whole dinner already! wait, what? did you really want him to taste the dish? what was going on?
the food came into the equation here, so he didn’t think much of it, he just took the full spoon in his mouth. seeing how your face brightened up because of his approval made these butterflies in his stomach fly up high again. just what you were thinking, acting like that? you wanted him? to fall in love with you? like he hadn’t already did?
“stop looking at me like that or i’ll seriously think you fell for me.” 
“what if i already did?”
it was supposed to be a funny question. it was supposed to be a joke. but this damned park jihoon was serious, you could tell that without looking at him. you breathed in sharply again. that just couldn’t be real. 
“then that would be far from what i agreed on.” somehow, when you said that, you felt something aching in your chest. was it your heart? is that how a broken heart feels? but you didn’t have what to be heartbroken over, it was all just a mirage. 
the silence longed and longed for what felt like an eternity. finally, you heard the chair moving. you knew he was going to leave. everyone did, sooner or later. maybe you just weren’t made for-
“well, i don’t know if you know, but it is not like i can control my feelings.” jihoon started, standing right beside you, leaning by the kitchen counter. “whether you agreed on me falling for you or not, it just happened and i’m not gonna keep it inside anymore. i fucking fell for you, sweetheart. so much.”
“and you want me to believe it? you want me to believe that sweet talk after all that acting, after that mirage full of such words? how can i know it’s not a play?”
“because none of that was a play. or at least not for me.”
wait, what? hold on, what?
“so you’re saying this whole fake relationship was supposed to be real?” you asked after connecting those few dots in your mind.
“sort of. i just wanted you to finally stop fighting with me. and maybe see that i’m not that bad.”
oh, boi. that was a rollercoaster indeed. thankfully the dinner was already done because you couldn’t think about it and about what jihoon was saying. 
“i should go, right?” after what seemed to be a disappointed sigh, jihoon slowly moved towards the door. what was he thinking, saying all that? what was he thinking in the first place, when he came up with the fake relationship idea?
“don’t.”
you couldn’t bear the possibility he would leave you. you didn’t know if you just got used to his presence in your life or what, but it felt different, more likely to live with him around. you just simply couldn’t let him go.
there was a lot to talk indeed. and you two did while eating the dinner that slowly started getting cold. it was getting late and you still didn’t want him to leave.
“please, stay.” you said quietly, turning away from him since you were unable to look him in the face while admitting to feeling lonely. it was almost like admitting being defeated. and you hated getting defeated, especially by park jihoon, that little fuck.
“aww, my little baby wants me to stay with her? alright then.” he chuckled, but after he said that, he left a small peck on your head. 
it really felt nice having someone by your side, even if that someone was able to tease the living shit out of you so casually. 
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“what’s that? my little sweetheart can’t wait a bit?”
“no. touch me already.” you actually demanded, breathless from the passionate kisses you two shared. jihoon chuckled again, much to your discontent. so you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. 
your lips met his again. seeing you so desperate for him made jihoon smile cheekily in between the kisses, but he finally touched you, just as you wanted. in the end, who was he to disobey his sweetheart? 
with one of his hands, jihoon pushed you even closer to him, and the little moan that escaped your mouth sent shivers down his spine. wandering with the same hand under your shirt, the other one held your thigh, squeezing it from time to time. 
with you on his lap, so desperate for his touch, jihoon just couldn’t help but smile. the sight of you slowly getting ruined by him really affected his mind and body.
“you’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” he stated so out of the blue, but you didn’t really think much of it. you just wanted to feel him.
“mm-hmm. now kiss me more.”
again, smiling cheekily, jihoon tasted your sweet lips. with his hands under your shirt, he managed to undo your bra, which he then took off both with your shirt. the cold air of the room caused you to shiver a bit, but then feeling the warm hands of your boyfriend made it all better. 
while his hands roamed around your body, yours moved from the collar of his shirt to his hair, pulling on the strands from time to time, causing some breathless moans from the man under you. acting almost instinctively, your hips slowly started moving, grinding on the still-clothed length of your boyfriend. 
“you seriously can’t wait anymore, right, sweetheart?” jihoon asked after a short laugh, and you only shook your head. he laughed again before kissing you, moving his hand to your front clothed only with slowly soaking panties. “you’re so wet already. are you so impatient for me?”
you nodded, wanting him to finally take proper care of you. seeing his confident smile caused you to move again, this time grinding on his fingers lightly touching your core through the cotton material. 
“please, jihoon-“ mumbling out, you tried to form the next part of the sentence, but you failed the moment he moved the panties to the side and slid one of his fingers inside you. as you moaned softly at the sensation, jihoon carefully observed every change happening on your face and body. 
then, the second finger managed to slide in and you had to bite on your lower lip to not make louder sounds. you threw your head back, happy with a bit full sensation. and when he started moving his fingers, you couldn’t stop yourself anymore and just had to moan softly. 
meanwhile, jihoon started trailing his lips from yours to your jawline, neck, and then to your collarbones. everywhere where he could, he just had to leave at least a small mark of his presence. of the fact that he was the one making you feel so good. 
“m-more, please-“ quietly mumbling out, you brushed your fingers through jihoon’s hair, pulling on it again. looking at you with lust-filled eyes, he stopped kissing your neck, but only for a while. 
“you think you can handle more, sweetheart?” 
“mm-hmm.”
with a fast yet burning with lust kiss, jihoon finally lowered his pants, showing what you craved; his dick. you had to refrain yourself with the last bits of self-control from licking your lips at the sight. 
“you ready?” after a nod from you, jihoon smiled again, letting you do the rest of the job. as you adjusted yourself and slowly lowered your body, the feeling of being full took all over your body.
with moans and groans, you started moving up and down, and lusty sounds of slapping skin against skin filled the room. your boyfriend again started kissing your shoulder and collarbones, occasionally leaving here and there marks. his favourite spot to nibble on was the one place that made you moan louder and clench around his length. with one hand helping you bounce up and down, the other one massaging your tits, taking your nipple in between his fingers. 
you two might’ve been close to your highs, but none of you wanted to stop there. thankfully, the neighbours went on vacation, so no one would eventually complain about the two of you. 
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ryuichirou · 11 months
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first of all, i love your works, i recently followed you for your azuide artwork then i saw the other ones, they're all gorgeous but i have a question about your sultan au. does jamil have any romantic feelings for kalim?
+
Anonymous asked:
Sultan AU Jamil is so good. Like, this might be strange but I think he’s hilarious. You just know his “Kalim you Fool!” Is going to bite him in the butt. The man is probably already sort of in love with Kalim, and he’s just DEEP in denial. the denial is so deep he’d justify to himself sleeping with Kalim because it keeps Kalim’s attention on him and thus gives him access to the power & influence of the Asim.
so tell me, what’s it gonna take for Jamil to actual acknowledge those feelings as being genuine & mutual between him and Kalim? Because Sultan Kalim is just ready to marry Jamil already.
Anonymous asked:
Can you tell me more about your Sultan AU. The last comic with Kalim and Jamil got me intrigued and I love how you draw Jamil’s evil expression
selenacrest asked:
How exactly is the story of JamiKali in Sultan AU? Because after what I saw in the third comic I didn't understand anything
Anonymous asked:
Evil Royal Vizier Jamil! :) Any info of why he is the way he is?
Anonymous asked:
In the Sultan AU it looks like Jamil is sliding down the villain slope. I hope he uses Kalim’s feelings to manipulate him 😈😈😈😈
Anonymous asked:
Kalim will be horrified to learn he was used by Jamil in the sultan au.
------------
Thank you so much for giving this comic and this AU in general so much love! I am super happy we finally posted it and that you liked it and have so many questions about it + the AU itself.  I really really enjoyed drawing this side of Jamil, because he is a scheming snake, and we should appreciate and love him for it lol
When it comes to this AU, there isn’t actually much lore to talk about: it’s pretty much a continuation of their canon story (based on how we see it, of course). So, it’s the canon timeline but ~5 years in the future.
I’ve mentioned it in several replies but I’ll say it again: I have a feeling these two are going to have a difficult relationship for their entire lives, because, even after the events of ch4, all of Jamil’s grudges towards Kalim are still intact. There has been some changes in the way they interact, plus Kalim learned about Jamil’s struggles and true feelings about him, but these changes aren’t really enough to change anything, especially considering how easy it is for people to unintentionally get right back to status quo. And this is exactly what would happen to these two.
So, Kalim is the head of his family now, and Jamil is his official adviser, not some servant. Kalim definitely sees them as equals, and tries his best to be a good ruler/good boss, but still relies on Jamil quite a lot. And for Jamil, he feels like he does everything he’s used to + even more now. So even though he is much more powerful now than he used to be, this feeling of him being squeezed inside of Kalim’s fist is stronger than ever.
But with Kalim being in love with him? It’s the ultimate power, something that can never be taken from him, as long as this idiot is infatuated. So he’ll definitely use this to his advantage, amused by how easy it is to manipulate Kalim and how easy he is to fool: one gentle gesture, one soft smile, and Kalim is absolutely helpless. And if Jamil takes things further…
Now, does Jamil have romantic feelings toward Kalim? Well, one thing about Jamil is, like one of the Anons mentioned, karma always bites him in the ass. He is kind of a loser frankly lol, whenever he tries to outsmart Kalim, he succeeds, but then something happens and makes his life miserable. So this whole thing is definitely going to backfire too.
Jamil has always had fondness for Kalim, but every warm feeling gets cruelly suppressed. But now that this “door” of the romantic closeness and intimacy with Kalim is open, Jamil can expect his biggest karma-ass-bite yet. What a fun surprise it’s going to be lol
Oh, and don’t worry about Kalim’s feelings. We all know how forgiving he could be lol
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fxmmeprincxss · 8 months
Text
Welcome to my blog angels 💗
I’ve been getting an influx of followers (thank you babies I see you) lately so I thought I better do a little intro post 🥰
Hey 👋🏻 You can call me L, if we message and we’re mutuals then I have no problem telling you my name 💗 I’m 26 and from England in the UK. As you can tell by my name on here I am very much a princess and I label myself as a femme lesbian and I am mainly a bottom / sub ✨
I am taken and owned by my gorgeous butch girlfriend so please be respectful of that 🥰
This blog is mainly NSFW and sapphic yearning 🥺 absolutely 18+ and please be above 21+ if you’re going to DM me unless it’s to ask advice on something.
Some of my kinks include: Bondage, Dom/sub dynamics, spit, somno, rough sex, choking, praise, degradation, voice, dumbification, oral fixation, being owned and I am an absolute hoe for the strap 😇
Hard no’s: Rape, age play, scat, feeders etc and not respecting boundaries
I have the right to block you if you make me feel uncomfortable in any way.
I have a super busy job so please understand I may not always reply quickly.
💌 DMs open - no flirting please!
💌 Asks and anons welcome
Tags:
- NSFW audios: #princessaudios
- Photos of me: #me
- Text posts: #justprincessthoughts
Thank you for following my silly little blog, I hope you like it here 💖
- MEN DO NOT INTERACT, FOLLOW OR MESSAGE ME
- ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS
- NO HOMOPHOBES, TRANSPHOBES, FATPHOBES, RACISTS, ALL ROUND IDIOTS / CREEPS
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burnt-to-cynders · 8 months
Text
Alright, time to actually make one of these for real, since this is looooong overdue. Hi! I'm Cynthia! I'm...a lot of things, and I struggle to describe them without it feeling inadequate! I play games, I write software for a living, I write non-software things for fun occasionally, I'm wildly horny, neurodivergent, a massive nerd who constantly wishes she knew more about everything.
Property of: @synthbang and @stalesweetrolls
Let's start with some ID stuff, I'm a pre-HRT(for now!!!) transfem, I go by she/they/it pronouns. My friends call me any fun variation of my name they can come up with, like Cyn, Cyndy, Cyndicate, etc. If we're mutuals, we're friends :3. I'm white, American(New England), poly, t4t, atheist, wildly sapphic, and physically, but not visibly, disabled.
As for interests, I've got literal dozens. Gaming, anime, manga, movies, writing, reading, music, pole dancing, ttrgps, game design, hiking, conservation, activism, fashion, just to name a few, each of which splinters into dozens of little sub-interests. Ask me a dragonball question, I dare you.
Actually, ask me any kind of question. Asks are open all the time and so are anons. Go wild ya horny fools
FOLKS WHO ARE NOT WELCOME (DNIs)
Minors
Seriously, minors, this blog is very horny
Ageless blogs
Sissy kink blogs
Race and ageplayers
SIDEBLOGS
I have two sideblogs atm, although in actuality there's just one that's even remotely active.
@den-of-cyn is where I used to do my hornyposting. The big thing that's there now is the pinned post with a list of my kinks, for those of you interested in the horny side of the Cynner. The account got flagged as NSFT and I haven't been able to get that revoked yet, and moreover I decided to stop worrying about it and just started posting horny on main anyway. There's quite a few good ones on there that I haven't reblogged to here, and a few pics I haven't reposted, so if you somehow don't get enough horny nonsense on this page, you can always go there to see some vintage Cyn >:3
@thebookofcyn is my writing sideblog. It's where all my original stuff will one day live, when I get the spoons to put all my old stuff on it. It is SFT FOR NOW, IT WILL NOT BE IN THE FUTURE! Soon there will be a pinned post there explaining my tags and how to find stories. I'm hoping to post more there as time goes on and I actually embrace this hobby more.
TAGS
I layer my tags and usually don't do content tags, and I don't tag reblogs except to do responses. The tags that mean things on this blog are as follows:
#cynposting - Any post by me that has text outside of tags, including reblog replies. Searching this tag will get you everything I've written in text on this blog.
#cynful thoughts - Any post I think is horny. You can filter for this post if you want to see me being a degenerage, or filter it out if you'd rather not.
#pics of the cynner - Any picture of myself, pretty self explanatory. Most are accompanied by #cynful thoughts
#Cyn fits - pics of myself taken specifically to show off an outfit and explain why I chose it for that day.
#I asked - Reblog of an ask that I sent someone
#ask and ye shall receive - Tag for when I answer an ask
#get tagged idiot - Tag for when the only content of a post is me @ -ing someone in the reblog.
#pinned post - Last one, tag for the previous pinned posts I've made. This should be the last one. In theory.
And that's it!!!! For now. Probably. I'm a wordy bitch, so I expect this'll get longer and longer.
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scoops-aboy86 · 5 days
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not sure if you're taking prompt requests (I've been lurking hehe♠️♥️) but can we consider steddie who have sexual tension whilst also being each other's biggest hater? maybe Eddie is mouthing off to Steve and they place a bet; loser draws a card at random and if they don't complete it within the month then...I don't know but something embarrassing. let's say Eddie (cocky and on his high horse) underestimates Steve and loses the bet and draws the card: bulk up. And determined not to be a sore loser he goes all in, unfortunately he misinterprets just how much he's supposed to bulk for, and what bulking up actually entails 👀 by the end of the month that boy is busting out his pants
Hey there ♠️♥️ anon! I for sure take prompt requests, and I love the idea of these two giving glaring daggers vibes whenever they’re in the same room…
(The following is also on ao3, because, uh. It's 5545 words.)
They’d settled their differences in the Upside Down, that first time, right? Despite a shared mutual history of one looking at the other and thinking ugh, Steve had thanked someone who wasn’t a friend and didn’t have any person interest vested in his safety for coming to help rescue him from a gruesome death, and Eddie had broken with years of anti-jock, anti-popular tradition to admit that Steeeeve Harrington was a good dude. They’d even bonded a little over how much of a butthead Dustin was. Right? 
Wrong. The truce only held up until Eddie nearly died by bat attack, though it wasn’t officially called off until several weeks after that because Eddie was in a literal coma. Pretty much the last thing Steve had said was to not try and be a hero, and Eddie had agreed… and then pulled that shit? The idiot had nearly bled out in Dustin’s goddamn arms—leaving the fifteen year old even more shell shocked than he had been after Starcourt when it had finally, fully hit him that Steve could have been literally tortured to death, just because he’d picked up some weird Russian transmission. 
So Eddie’s first real day coherently awake and not foggy from pain meds, jarring and stressful as all that was on its own, also included a vicious reprimand to the tune of what the hell were you thinking from the former King of Hawkins High. And, hey, he firmly maintained that if you kicked a man when he was down then you shouldn’t be surprised when he goes for your ankles. The shouting match that ensued only ended when Robin, Jonathan, and Jonathan’s weird friend from California physically dragged him out of the room, while Dustin and Mike each put a hand on Eddie and effectively held their weakened DM pinned to keep him from giving chase when he could not, in fact, actually walk. 
(Surprisingly, Mike is actually on Steve’s side with that one. It’s because upon returning to Hawkins, when getting the full rundown, Dustin had said, “He was dying, he was right there and I couldn’t do anything to save him… It was like when Troy told you to jump off the quarry and you actually did it. I was useless then too.” One look at his friend’s haunted expression and Mike was thoroughly pissed off at both Eddie and his past self, no matter how okay things had turned out after.)
Everyone hopes it’ll blow over, but both Steve and Eddie are stubborn as hell and convinced the other is in the wrong. Neither wants to back down, so they don’t. Things snowball into an active feud, Steve with his sarcastic  comments and the bitchy faces he pulls, and Eddie jumping on furniture to deliver thinly veiled speeches about whatever his beef of the day with Steve is this time—both dramatic as fuck and not nearly as ashamed enough about how loud and petulant their complaints about each other are. 
As Robin likes to say, they’re both kind of right but they’re also both morons. 
So their friends do what any reasonable group of young people irreparably traumatized by intradimensional monsters would do: they trick both of them into the same room and lock the door until they either sort their shit out or knock each other unconscious. The new Hopper-Byers house has a basement that doubles as a tornado shelter that’s just perfect for keeping them contained, no windows and all. 
By the time the Party lets them out, they seem to have reached a truce. 
Robin finds out later, though, that they haven’t ended their feud so much as… turned it into a competition. They’ve given each other a month to get into one of the other’s hobbies, though she does not get any explanation of how the results will be judged or what the ‘winner’ gets out of this besides general bragging rights. Steve will try and learn guitar well enough to play a single song (and not that Twinkle Twinkle Little Star shit in the guitar for beginners books, an actual, recognizable song that one might hear on the radio, singing optional), and Eddie will try and bulk up. 
“Bulk up,” Robin repeats flatly, picturing Eddie’s toothpick frame and absolutely failing at imagining muscles showing up on it. “Eddie Munson, who was held back for two years in part because he refused to climb a rope in gym, or participate in any other Presidential Fitness Test activity as an anti-war, anti-mindless sheep protest, is going to take up working out.”
Steve just shrugs with a smirk. “I don’t know, all he said was ‘bulk up.’ We’re not asking each other for advice—which means he can’t ask Lucas either, since that’s just, like, my advice but trickle-down style—”
“That’s not a phrase you should use, Steve. Not when you’re making… that face.” Robin is starting to think that the sexual tension between these two idiots isn’t completely in her imagination. 
“Whatever, he can’t ask for my advice and I can’t ask for his. By the way, do you know anything about playing guitar?”
It’s going to be a long month. 
“Okay,” Gareth begins, “I’ve done some research, and I’ve compiled a list of—”
Eddie snatches the sheet of paper out of his hand, ignoring Gareth’s grumbles as he scans it. “‘Eat lots of starch to fuel the body,’” he reads. “Okay, easy enough. ‘Lots of protein, fish is good.’ Done, I fuckin’ love fish sticks. Healthy fats, blah blah blah… ‘Recovery after workouts is important.’ Makes sense.” He flicks the paper back in the younger boy’s direction, sitting back into the couch in his trailer with an exaggerated stretch. “This is going to be easy. I can just carry amps around like usual and eat up, I’ve got this in the bag. Harrington is going down.”
Snatching it up, Gareth shoots Eddie an annoyed look. “This is bringing out a lovely color in you, dude. I might not be around much for the next thirty days.”
Eddie snorts. “Band practice,” he reminds him in a sing-song voice. “I’m thinking we can do two or three times a week now that school’s out.”
“Yeah, about that…”
And that’s how Eddie finds out that Gareth is being dragged on a family road trip next week to visit some great aunt or uncle somewhere, Jeff has already started courses at the nearest community college, and Frank has a full time job washing dishes at Enzo’s now. The latter two will probably give Eddie a good in for selling to new customers, now that he’s been freed from perpetual daily  forced contact with high schoolers, but other than that it all kind of sucks. 
After Gareth leaves, Eddie sulks his way to the grocery store to pick up what he figures he needs for the next few weeks. Piles the shopping cart up with fish sticks and ketchup, protein powder and ice cream (because the list had said something about smoothies, there’s ice cream in those, right?), pasta, various kinds sauces to keep things interesting, a bunch of different kinds of chips for snacking, and bacon and a carton of eggs for breakfasts. That should cover most of it, right? He can come back for more whenever, but he thinks this might last him a week. No skin off his nose when that big government payout is basically footing the bill. 
One week later, Steve’s fingers are sore from trying to play his grandpa’s old guitar he had found in the attic, and he’s having a hard time with Robin’s explanation of sheet music. She doesn’t know a thing about string instruments, but she’s working out an arrangement of Everybody Wants to Rule the World that he can both read and play, so he can only complain so much. 
Eddie feels vaguely bloated all the time, but he deadlifts his amps and carries them around the trailer for a while several times a day and takes care to give his muscles a nice long break afterwards. He’s already had to make a couple more trips to the store for pretty much everything except protein powder… Which isn’t that bad with enough ice cream blended in with it, and sometimes he even remembers to throw in some fresh fruit for color. Sometimes he does bananas and peanut butter. Zero complaints. 
By the second week, Steve is making decent progress . He’s pretty sure, anyway. The music he plays is basic, halting, and awkward, but it’s music. The real VIP when it comes to helping him learn, actually, is Erica. She’d just taken up the flute in eighth grade, more to fulfill an elective requirement than anything else, and she’s a vicious but effective task master when it comes to making him practice. Her critiques, while scathing, usually offer the information he can’t make sense in of in a new way, sometimes easier to process. Between that and Robin helping him puzzle out where to put his hands to make the chords sound right, things are coming along. 
Meanwhile, Eddie has developed a routine. He deadlifts his amps and carries them around the trailer for a while a few times a day. He cools down with a joint afterwards, and if it’s a really hot day he goes through popsicles like nobody’s business. They’re basically frozen juice. Practically just water. He’s pretty sure he can have as many as he wants, and when he gets to the goofy part of his high he sometimes deep throats them just for fun—because he’s busy with this whole bulking thing, alright? Hasn’t had a chance to drive out to Indy for some good sweaty stress relief. The munchies hit him hard and there’s something satisfying in how all the snacks he blows through (ha) make him feel sluggish and warm on their way to making him bigger. He doesn’t give a shit about building muscles, it’s just… The sense of accomplishment is nice.
Partway through the third week, Steve runs into Eddie in the grocery store. Literally. 
“Oof. Hey, look where you’re—Oh, it’s you.” Eddie barely glances at Steve to make this assessment, he’s too busy trying to decide on what pasta sauces he wants to get for the next few meals. His cart is already quite full (plus there’s an entire case of Mt. Dew on the wire shelf underneath), his eyes slightly bloodshot, and he has an already open Snickers bar that he takes an absentminded bite from. 
Steve has to pause to take him in, knowing that something is different but not quite able to decide what… But his brain registers it as a vaguely positive thing all the same, and he finds the Snickers bar amusing. “Jeez Munson, you couldn’t wait until you got to the register? How long have you been shopping?”
Eddie rolls his eyes, swallows, and very maturely sticks his tongue out at Steve through his plush lips, right there in the grocery store. “I was working out earlier and got hungry, fucking sue me.” He makes his sauce selections and moves on, but Steve trails after him with just a dinky little basket with a few items in hand. 
Which… he doesn’t mean to do, but finds himself embarrassingly hypnotized by Eddie’s ass. (And since when is Eddie not flat as a pancake back there? Must be doing squats or something. Whatever it is, Steve can admit in the confines of his own mind that it’s paid off.)
He breaks off towards the register before Eddie says anything else to him, though—and before Eddie can notice the unexpected semi starting up in his jeans. And he gets away with it too, because Eddie is facing resolvedly away, unwilling to let Steve see the way his cheeks have flushed from that bare minimum of teasing. Because Eddie has only been in the store for less than ten minutes. Made a pass at one of the candy displays by the front entrance as he was coming in, and yeah he’s high, but usually he has some restraint. This time… he just really wanted something sweet in his mouth, and Steve’s comment makes him want to shove the rest of the chocolate bar in his mouth all at once. (Which he still does, but manages to wait until Steve is gone and hold in the little moan that wants to worm its way out around the mouthful.)
If they both go home and touch themselves for a bit after the encounter, no one’s ever going to know. 
The next time they see each other, it’s because time’s officially up on their bet. Steve cannot get over how Eddie, who declines to sit down for this private little open mic event in the bland Harrington living room, fills out his jeans. It’s making his mouth water involuntary, throwing off his concentration while he tries to play the song he’s prepared. And what is up with that? He’s never looked at Eddie this way before, never had this problem in locker rooms with his jock teammates, had little trouble not looking or not thinking much of it if he did. Eddie’s not even naked for fuck’s sake, his jeans are just painted on, a stark contrast to the loose t-shirt he’s wearing. 
He needs to see what’s under that shirt. Doesn’t know what he’s hoping to see, other than, just… Eddie. Which is annoying as hell, because it’s distracting while he’s trying to play—a month is long enough for him to figure out some basics and a single song, but not to be totally comfortable with the instrument. 
When he’s done, he looks up from where he’s been focused intently on his hands only to see Eddie staring at him with a slightly furrowed brow, head tipped slightly to one side. 
“I can’t call it good,” Eddie says slowly, reluctantly, “because it’s Tears for Fears, for chrissakes. But… I am impressed.”
Steve resists the urge to pump his fist in victory. 
“For only a month of learning to play, the most painful part was really just your taste in music,” Eddie continues, smirking. 
“Oh shut up.” Steve rolls his eyes and puts the guitar aside with a huff. “Your turn, Mr. Metalhead Smartass. Time for show and tell.”
And Eddie barely hesitates. Sure, he knows that he’s kind of missed the intended mark on this bulking thing, but he definitely is bulkier. His pants, the same size he’s been wearing comfortably for years, are digging in at the waist hard enough that he’s opted to stay standing for now rather than risk their integrity. He’d gotten a new, bigger shirt specifically for this occasion just to draw out the suspense of the reveal. 
Part of him just wants a reaction. Like in the store, when Steve had teased him about the candy bar. He wants Steve to see him, stride over from the couch, and grab at the roll of pudge spilling over the top of his jeans. Call him out on all the pasta and sweets and nutritionless snacks, on getting high after his increasingly shorter workouts and clearing out the pantry. On the angry red stretch marks that streak the skin untouched by bite scars.
So Eddie wets his lips, and pulls his shirt off over his head. He shivers as Steve looks him over, even though it’s a hot day, and god he could go for a popsicle right now, would shove it all the way in and give Steve a show—
“Okay, let’s test it,” Steve says. “Arm wrestling, like we agreed. You want to do this in here? Or there’s the dining table, or kitchen counter.”
Eddie frowns, part of him disappointed. “Uh… Kitchen, I guess.” They can stay standing in there. No way he’s going to get down on his knees to arm-wrestle Steve fucking Harrington over a mirror-polished coffee table. 
Steve waves him on. “After you then, it’s over there.”
Because Steve is trying hard not to react to a shirtless Eddie Munson in his living room. He’d seen Eddie shirtless before but that had been in the hospital, when he’d been almost more bandages than man. It had scared him then, seeing the proof of how close they’d come to losing someone this time. (Again, even if Hopper had come back.) Now it makes him want to grab, maybe push Eddie against something, just to see… what he feels like under his hands. 
No, really, Steve wants to know. He can’t even articulate why to himself, but he wants, and he’s always been the kind of guy to jump first and ask confused questions later. 
So they’re in the kitchen, hands clasped and elbows on grouted tile, each pushing as hard as he can. Maybe Steve started with the intent of going a little easy, though fuck if he understands why—but Eddie is really warming up now and Steve, to his surprise, is having to work a bit. 
“You been lifting?” he asks. 
Eddie grins, wolfish, back at him. “Yeah, I have these big amps I carry around all the time. Musician, remember?”
Steve wants Eddie’s teeth in his shoulder. Wants to bite him, all over him. Wants—Jesus fucking Christ—to watch himself disappear into Eddie’s mouth like that Snickers bar, like Eddie couldn’t imagine not wanting to swallow him down. 
… Oh no. 
It’s not like Eddie ever had particularly defined muscles, and what Steve now registers as extra softness all over isn’t helping them show. He was a wiry dude to start with, never meant to have bulging biceps, but that doesn’t mean he’s weak. Not after all that post-Vecna physical therapy and the past four weeks of working out with heavy band equipment. 
Steve still wins the match, but it takes a while. 
“You’re definitely stronger than you were a month ago,” he admits. “So… I guess I’m impressed too.”
They just sort of look at each other for a moment. 
“So it’s a tie?” Eddie asks finally. “Fuck, what do we do for a tie-breaker?”
And Steve has a wild idea, one that, when he floats it, Eddie agrees to much faster than he’d agreed to the original bet.
The tie-breaker is this: they’ve ordered one large pizza each, and whoever eats the most wins. Eddie has barely stopped to consider that this might not be a fair contest; he hasn’t had lunch yet, and feels like his stomach is starting to digest itself. Hasn’t gone this long without a huge and heavy meal providing the delicious stretch to that organ that he’s recently grown to enjoy in weeks, and it’s probably a minor miracle that the hunger pains aren’t audible. 
When the pizza arrives he just about tears his box out of Steve’s hands, flipping the lid and grabbing the first slice on his way back to the couch without fanfare, only a huge bite and a stifled sigh of relief as he finally plops down on the cushions and gives his feet a rest. 
“Here,” Steve tells him, holding out a two-liter that Eddie hadn’t even realized was part of the order, he’d been so focused on food—and since when has Steve known that Mt. Dew is his favorite? “Hang on a second, I’ll get glasses.”
“S’fine,” Eddie grunts through a still partly full mouth, deftly twisting the cap open with his teeth, spitting it off into the distance, and raising the entire bottle to his lips for a long pull. “That hits the spot, thanks,” he says absently when he’s done, not bothering to put the bottle down as he reaches for his next slice. “Are you ever going to start on yours, or what?”
“I, y-yeah.” Steve turns away to his own box before Eddie can see the flush on his face, the one that goes all the way to his chest. What is happening to him? He hasn’t felt this tongue-tied since the first time he’d made out with Nancy, but why is it happening with Eddie?
Something about the abandon with which he’s eating, like it’s both effortless and necessary. Like he could keep going all day at the same pace, never satisfied, still chasing whatever it means in Eddie’s book to be full, and… Steve always has been a sucker for girls telling him how well he fills them up, hasn’t he? It had never meant this before but, well, there is some precedent at least. 
But still, Steve thinks, as he tucks into his own pizza. Eddie. They hate each other, right? That’s why they’ve been feuding. The dude’s theatrical persona and general aura of fuck the world puts Steve on edge… but there’s no sign of either while he’s eating, wholy focused on the task (meal) before him. 
Eddie finishes his pizza first, naturally. He guzzles some more of his soda, the bottle reaching about three-fourths empty, and doesn’t bother stifling a burp. Pressing a fist to his filling stomach, he manages to extend it to a belch, forcing out more of the gathering carbonation to make more room in there. Then he reaches for Steve’s pizza. 
“Hey,” Steve protests, but makes no actual move to stop him. (Part of Eddie wishes he would. ‘Jesus, Munson, you ate a whole large pizza in under fifteen minutes and you still want more? You’ve really turned into a fatass.’ God, that would be—Eddie crams as much in his mouth as he can while his free hand is already reaching for another.)
“I win,” Eddie says with his mouth full, muffled and chewing but still understandable. (Fuck stopping just to talk, he’s hungry, he needs it.) “You wanna get between me and—urp—my prize, Steve? Try it and see what happens.”
And Steve doesn’t, just lets him take what he wants, and god damn if that isn’t a strange little thrill. Grease is starting to drip down Eddie’s chin, pizza sauce gathering in the corners of his mouth. No one has ever watched him eat before but Steve is watching, his own progress slowed now that the game is up. 
They’re back on the living room couch, Eddie with his shirt still off and well beyond feeling self-conscious about the way his jeans are practically creaking at the seams the more he puts away. He’d give in and unbutton them (a common occurrence at home), but instinct tells him the problem is too far gone—the threshold between ‘tight’ and ‘too tight to get the button undone’ crossed. Still, he keeps eating because that feels better than stopping to problem-solve. He feels almost high under Steve’s gaze, an echo of the munchies creeping in that has him reaching for more pizza, more soda, just more.
Until the inevitable happens. Eddie doesn’t exactly notice it until he feels his belly drop, still cradled in his suddenly looser jeans. 
It’s not even the button that’s popped. The entire left side of the denim has ripped down to the lower curve of his ass, bare skin bulging out because he’d forgone boxers so they wouldn’t bunch up uncomfortably under the pants. 
“Shit,” he hears Steve whisper, and then bare skin is covered by warm hands and Eddie hums appreciatively as he’s cupped, kneaded, Steve’s fingertips teasing their way just under the stretched, shredded edges of fabric. Relaxing into the touch, into a quiet headspace he’s been falling more and more into over the past few weeks, where he just sits and eats. 
The fact that there’s still pizza grease on Steve’s hand makes it, somehow, even more perfect. 
“How did you do this,” Steve murmurs, sounding amazed, “in a month?”
Eddie just hums with his mouth full, relishing the attention. Now that Steve is focused on him he’s abandoned his own food, allowing Eddie free rein to take as much as he wants. 
He wants it all. Loses all track of time in getting it. Even more so when the pizza runs out and Steve is at his side offering a lit joint, his own partly-finished bottle of soda, and packages of snack cakes. 
(When had those come from? When had Steve left to get them? … Are questions Eddie barely cares enough to think, let alone ask.) 
Everything feels hazy and syrupy-slow as Eddie greedily sucks down the smoke. He’s so full, but not full to bursting, not yet—and this will help him feel hungry again, help him eat more. Maybe until he can’t even move. For now, the food keeps coming, sometimes brought gently to his lips without him having to do anything but chew, and Eddie gives himself over to the pure hedonism of it. 
Steve’s fingers around the joint (from Eddie’s jacket) rest against Eddie’s lips while he takes his hit. He’s still amazed that after only a month that Eddie can eat like that before getting high—how much food has he been going through in the name of ‘bulking,’ anyway? 
For a moment Steve feels vaguely guilty for setting the challenge in the first place, and for impulsively suggesting a pizza eating contest as a tie-breaker… but Eddie’s rosy cheeks and hazy expression and overall eagerness for more is both a balm and a cure. And Steve listens to him chew, and gasp and moan between bites, eyes dropping down to tattooed skin, flush and growing damp with sweat as Eddie gets more and more worked up with the crinkle of every wrapper. 
The pile of snack cakes is running low—the box had been full but Eddie is still going, one after the other after the other, so Steve puts the joint down and gets back to feeding. 
“You look so fucking soft,” he murmurs. It’s both derision and praise, and he glances up just in time to see Eddie’s eyes roll back in time with a deep moan, squirming slightly in his spot on the couch. “Oh, you like that? You like when you get called out on how big you are?” Watching him swallow and try to breath shallow enough not to jostle himself but deep enough to actually get some oxygen, Steve licks his own lips. “How much you ate to get this way?”
Eddie sucks the last mouthful from his fingers in answer, tongue swirling around the tips. There’s so much in there already that Steve almost has more chocolate, frosting, and cake crumbs when Eddie pulls off with a wet smack than he’d had before, but it goes straight to Steven’s dick. 
“Been eating all the time,” Eddie mumbles with a hint of a whine. “Can’t stop. Don’t want to.” He reaches out, not quite looking where his hand is going and groping around blindly until he finds Steve’s wrist and guides him to touch his gurgling belly. “Do you like it? Do you like me—urp—like this, Steve?”
“I really fucking do,” Steve breathes. God, his jeans are entirely too constricting right now, dick filling at the mental images of Eddie eating all the time—while watching tv or planning out his story-campaign things, even during simple tasks like putting his shoes on or applying eyeliner before playing at the Hideout, slowly chewing even in his goddamn sleep. (Which, realistically, he probably didn’t, but it’s such a heady thought that Steve doesn’t care about realistic right now.)
“I don’t even fit in my pants,” Eddie whines, pawing clumsily at his still buttoned fly while half his ass is already hanging out the rip. His pupils are stretched wide, eyes reddened, the high setting in nicely. “How, how’m I gonna go home?”
“Stay here,” Steve blurts out. “You don’t want to flash your wide ass around the whole trailer park, right? Just stay, plenty of room, and we can find you something to wear in the morning.”
Eddie nods, groans, and grips his distended belly with both hands. Steve helps as best he can, massaging over the other boy’s jam-packed stomach to coax all the carbonation from the Mt. Dew and Coke back out, spilling from Eddie’s wet and greasy lips like sweet, filthy nothings. And—
“Is it crazy that I still want more?” Eddie groans, tipping his head back to rest on the couch cushions. “Fuuuck that feels good Stevie, keep d… Oh god, mm, keep doing that…”
And then he spreads his legs wide with a groan, pausing to use both hands to finally get his pants unbuttoned. With no hint of self-consciousness, he wriggles his hand inside pants and pulls out his stiff cock, licks a long, lingering stripe along his other palm while maintaining direct eye contact, and starts to stroke himself. 
“T-that’s it, keep… You’re so fucking hot, feeding me by hand,” Eddie babbles. “Letting me have this, oh Jesus Christ—”
His fist is moving in time with Steve’s ministrations, panting and with a flick of a thumb over his cock head, twist of a wrist on every pass. Steve can’t tear his eyes away from the heated flesh peeking out between Eddie’s fingers—the one on his cock and the one clutching his belly, flicking continuously between the two. 
“You should keep doing it,” Eddie gasps, blind to the lack of remaining food he’s so full and gone. “Ste, Steve, that should be my prize for winning—” He pauses to let out a wet series of belches, hips practically jerking with them. “Ooh fuck, yeah, you should. You should feed me, keep making me bigger. Wanna be, mmmhmmnn, be full all the time, I’d let you fuck me even, god I bet that’d be good. W-wanna be filled from both ends, Steve…”
And Steve isn’t much better, barely blinking and throbbing in his pants, leaking a wet patch into his boxers, nodding and panting yes and uh-huh and I will. He’s thinking about how much he’s always liked going down on girls, and how different could a dick be? It’s not like he doesn’t know what feels good, and he knows the basics like keeping his lips over his teeth and using his hand for whatever he can’t fit, and Eddie’s thighs look soft and inviting. He can picture those thighs around his ears. 
Wanna be filled from both ends, Steve.
“Fuck,” Steve growls, leaning in dangerously close to Eddie’s face even if the majority of his attention is still angled downwards. “You’re getting fat, man. You want to get fatter? Bust more of your clothes? The way you’re going, this thing—” he swipes a hand down over Eddie’s rounded belly and then back up to his stomach, pressing out another round of wet, breathy burps “—is going to be huge. Your ass too. You’re going to bump into things. You’re going to lose sight of your feet, of your dick. How far do you want to take this, huh? Until you can’t even reach it under all that extra padding? You want to have to ask me to help you with that? If you can’t stand me now—”
“Wha,” Eddie gasps, shuddering, so close. “No, you’re the one… Can’t—urrp—stand me…”
His voice is so petulant, so sad, that suddenly Steve gets it. They’ve both been posturing, picking fights to avoid direct rejection. And Steve, without even realizing it until now… He’d been so mad about Eddie playing the hero and nearly dying because it had scared the shit out of him, and Eddie had felt attacked and lashed out right back. 
Steve slings a leg over Eddie’s, settles on him, and kisses him hard. Doesn’t even care when Eddie shakes and comes all over them both, biting Steve’s lip with a moan that could put actual porn stars to shame. Steve scrambles to get into his own pants and finish himself off a moment later, while Eddie is still catching his breath and groaning with every bump of Steve’s fist against his belly, but also still kissing him with no apparent intent of ever stopping. 
And they don’t stop so much as, Steve slumps to one side and Eddie is too bloated and weighted in place by his own overindulgence to follow. Which Steve whines about a little, but his mind is too blown to figure out how to sit back up right now. 
“I think I like guys too,” he says, dazed. “Is that a thing?”
“It’s a thing,” Eddie confirms, patting him on the thigh where it’s still stretched across the other boy’s lap. “If it helps, you’re taking it well.”
“Thought you said you wanted to take it,” Steve mumbles back, and feels a giddy little thrill at Eddie’s snort of amusement. “Speaking of things I just realized… Did we ever actually decide what  we’d get for winning the bet?”
There’s a pause. 
“I’m too full to think about that right now,” Eddie sighs, which they both know is a no. “Think I might’ve overdone it today.”
Another beat of silence, and then Steve can’t help asking, “Just today?”
A slow grin spreads across Eddie’s still-flushed face, the look in his eyes as he briefly bites his lip telling Steve that pretty soon there will be a round two. “Well now, sweetheart… Why don’t you sit back up here and tell me what you think, and we’ll just see if you’re right.”
Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie
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winterwump · 10 months
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Hii can i request goo x gun nsfw hcs? 🥺 Love you, stay safe 💘
💚NSFW Headcanons for Gun x Goo💚
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Author’s Note: 🚨THIS IS A MLM PAIRING, AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE MLM SHIPS, KEEP IT PUSHING🚨 Hi Anon! I’m glad you requested this bc I ADORE these two more than I love most things!!! I REALLY hope you meant these two as a couple and not individually lol. I have made this mistake b4😅 Here's the SFW Headcanons 🩵 This is a LONG one so ENJOY!!!
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Just to get this out of the way: They’re both switches!!! Fuck all of that heteronormative “who’s the top?” and “who’s the bottom?” bullshit.
They both think it's dumb and, there was a mutual understanding between the two that they don't mind going both ways with each other.
Sex happens in the most yee-yee ways. Like, at random while Goo is cooking, Gun decides that he wants to give head.
And 9 times out of 10, Goo is down for impromptu sex.
But funnily enough, Gun is not very likely to have a moment like the one previously described.
Gun would have to be super wound up sexually to just suck dick on Impulse lol.
They have matching sex drives…kinda.
I know that sounds like I contradicted myself from what I said about Gun, just hear me out please:
Both Gun and Goo have high sex drives, it’s just that Gun doesn't typically initiate sex and it takes him a while to get going (NO Gun does not have an erectile dysfunction lolol)
Goo, however, seems like he’s ready to go at all times, and he’s much more likely to initiate sex.
Goo is the type to drop random sexual innuendos into casual conversations that he’s having with Gun.
Like Goo is known for being “The Most Unserios Man on The Planet™”, but he’s not the type to be blatantly sexual even with Gun.
So chances are, if Goo is throwing out sex joke after sex joke, it's safe to say that Goo NEEDS to get off.
These two have mastered the art of a quickie and all variations of the proverbial quickie.
Handjobs under a table?- You got it!
Super GawkGawk-3000 WITH a facial while being chauffeured to an event? - They’ve done it (Lil Nasties lol)
Even though they’ve mastered the ancient art of being sexual deviants in public, Gun and Goo do find the time to have long-form bedroom fun.
Marathon sex. They have marathon sex. Albeit, not that often but the point still stands.
So when I say marathon sex, I mean upwards of 3 to 4 hours.
For context, sex on average last for about an hour (including foreplay). So these mfs are going at it.
But don't think that GG aren’t taking breaks throughout the marathon. Because trust me, they are. But with a caveat.
Marathon sex for GG is like a war of attrition. Think back to when they were in the sauna. Except for this time, they’re seeing which one of them cums first lol.
I lied in my SFW HC for these two when I said that paying for their penthouse was the only thing that they went 50/50.
I say that because whenever these idiots are doing their war of attrition, its split 50/50 on who cums first lol. 
But once they’re both completely spent and can't go anymore, these two don't cuddle. At least Gun doesn't
Gun: It's too damn hot for cuddling, move (Cuz Goo would, no doubt, would be sprawled out on Gun regardless of who topped)
Goo: Boo you’re no fun!! Don’t you wanna hold each other?
Gun: Fuck no.
Goo: Yea, I don’t blame you!
And Goo goes to sleep, while Gun has one last cigarette before going to sleep as well.
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This was fun to write, and I really hope you enjoyed reading this. I still have some WIPS to get back to, and I’ll get to them…eventually lol. Anyways, feel free to comment and request stuff. My inbox is open so have fun. BYE!!!!
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lorei-writes · 4 months
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Hello there please can I have 🦋🦷☁️🌸❄️🧸🍬🍄🍓 Thank you Have a nice day 😘😘
Hello, hello! >:)
I hope your day is lovely too <3 Mine... Well, it could have been better, but it's not the worst either. :')
❄️has been answered here.
Ask game
🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately
Recently I've been thinking about how success is measured in the era of social media.
Call me a fool, but I consider myself extremely fortunate and successful, even if it is not reflected in any easily quantifiable manner. I am yet to be an object of anon hate in its pure form (meaning a hateful comment rather than something unreasonable), but at the same time I have received messages saying that my writing was meaningful to somebody. I am surrounded by wonderful friends who look out for me and who I can (and do) build things together with. The projects I'm involved in (such as @flash-exchange and @writing-wednesday ) give people joy.
I do not know how to express my gratefulness in words.
🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on
... Remember that very few things in life are final or otherwise permanent. Appreciate the good while it lasts. The bad? Live through it and do not despair. It will end. It always does.
Likewise, don't grow attach too much meaning / consequences to things. They often matter much less than our minds would have us believe.
☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?
'Lorei' is a keysmash I did when I was, what, 10 or so? It stayed. -writes is fairly self-explanatory.
🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them
I do! I have four cats and a dog. (Three cats are more attached to me than my family, though. One cat treats my mom as her owner, and the dog... Well. The dog has chosen my father and brother. But mostly my father.)
However, I don't have any pictures of them on my PC :')
🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?
Talking to me like to any stranger you'd like to get to know better. If we click, we click; if we don't -- we don't.
There's nothing more to it.
🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character
Chevalier Michel can be a big dum-dum at times, and it definitely shows. (Chevie, you idiot, what do you mean you forgot to tell your fiancee that the imperialism plan is abandoned; It's adorable sometimes, though. He can remain this peculiar kind of stupid. Especially when he takes Clavis' teasing to heart.)
🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings
Keith and Maeve would maintain a herb garden together.
🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction? 
Things in my life weren't going so great, I ran out of fanfics to read, and I started feeling bad about talking my friend's ear off with Sen. So I started my blog, and then things followed fairly naturally -- some ideas just needed to be let out.
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