#i don't know if it has a title tho

[otter-and-terrier]

silver hearts

they say the stars outlast us all eternal sentinels on high but I have sought their silver hearts and wonder if perhaps they die

perhaps they gasp the cold of dawn a final breath of the living night then newborn sparks born of the dark breathe in the dusk and breathe out light

(in case you didn't know, damien is callum's birth father, who was a poet who died of a breathing difficulty. this poem was written by him before he died and was recited by callum in s6 e3 "the frozen ship". i don't know if it has a title, so i made one up lol :D)

[hinamie]

confessions of affection

chapter 4 of Like the Moon Haunts the Sun is out now!! we hope u enjoy the chapter <3 some... stuff happens lmao twirls hair cutely read from the beginning here ...or don't ...haha...unless? lmhs blog: @lmhsfic sam my love: @philosophiums

[mangofanarts]

Sunny and their crown friends (aka, their bodyguard, chauffeur and Accountant)

EDIT: @this-is-a-name-dont-worry Thank you for letting me know about their pronouns!! I wasn't aware :>!! Unfortunately I can't edit my tags to change some of it to they because I'm on mobile tho I'll use they/them for sunny more in the future!!

[kitten1060]

I think the Halfa optimus prime au is getting out of hand

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[anti-enashinonome]

I would love to participate in the 'songs I want in pjsk' thing but unfortunately, I know like 4 non pjsk vocaloid songs lol rip

[wumutummy]

XLOV COVERED TAEMIN IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF--

[rinzi]

[Image Text: The supreme fear of the Imperial Fists, if they could admit to a fear at all, is to be outplayed by unpredictable variables. Not to know.] - The Horus Heresy: The Siege of Terra, The End and the Death: Volume I by Dan Abnett, chapter 2:xi

ultramarines: know no fear

imperial fists: no know = fear

[riarnu]

this job has me dl'ing every 100% free font i can find i'm stuffing my pockets and bra w font files it's getting ridiculous

[curiosity-killed]

you know when something happens and you're like "eh that's annoying but not a big deal" and then hours later your brain pops back in like "hey! surprise!! i'm actually super upset about this!"

[fruitsilly]

i am very bad at wanting to keep urls.

[windor-truffle]

speaking of the OST I recently noticed the most complete and accessible version of it on YouTube (in my experience) is from this uploader right here, Grenakku, but all of the titles they use actually differ from the official English OST titles as used by the in-game music player. Greanakku's are probably more literal and accurate and I've been using them for so long that they're basically canon to me, but it's curious that very few sources of the tracks on YouTube actually use the "official" translated titles.

[shiroselia]

I think the funniest thing about writing/posting QuintSum is that I STILL have absolutely no fucking idea what else to name it (for those not named Zelda, when I was originally publishing it on Ao3 I was scrambling for a title for it because I legit just called it 'my fic' and often still do) and I think it's fucking hilarious that even tho I'm like 'Yeah Idonno what else to call it this is the best thing rn ig' it's also probably the best title that isn't too reliant on already knowing what it's about so while me and the summary continue beefing every week me and the title are shaking hands because why tf would I change the title yknow, besides it's p good

[illbegottenfaith]

stutter (a puzzle pieces by saint motel inspired fic)

something about you and your features reawakens theo's stutter (theo nott x reader)

a/n - LOVE how I usually naturally write in British English (for the most part) but the title of this fic is apparently the American English variant?? sorry but stammar just doesn't have the same sound as stutter and it rlly messes with the flow of my sentences lmao

tropes/warnings - fluff, theo has a stutter, tw alcohol, slightlyy mean reader? very mild tho lmao

word count - 3.2k

taglist - @allie-sturns @hzdhrtss @friedfreyfries @bushnellswife @rose-of-the-grave @thaliashifts @pariahsparadise @babene-e @fratbrochrisgf

Theo’s stutter had never been bad exactly - just bad enough to be noticed. Bad enough to make him hesitate before speaking, bad enough to make his father sigh whenever he tripped over a word at the dinner table.

"Think before you speak," his father would say, voice clipped, disapproving. "There's no point in opening your mouth if you don't know what you're going to say."

As if Theo didn’t already try.

So he adapted. He learned to pick his words carefully, to stay quiet unless absolutely necessary, to keep his voice even and deliberate. The less he spoke, the less he had to risk tripping over his own tongue. He stopped rushing and started living his life at a careful, highly controlled pace.

Over time, with extensive help from the best speech therapists his father could find, he grew out of his stutter. By the time he was old enough to be surrounded by classmates who would’ve torn him apart for it, it was already buried beneath layers of indifference. He built himself a reputation on cool control - on quiet, dry wit and the ability to cut someone down with a single unimpressed look. He spoke when he wanted to, not when people expected him to, and that was enough to keep it from ever being a problem.

Until you.

Because for some infuriating reason, with you, it found a way to slip through the cracks.

You and Theo were like two puzzle pieces that never quite fit right.

You didn’t hate each other - not really - but it seemed like a stretch to call yourselves friends. Try as you might, your personalities seemed fundamentally disconnected. He had little patience for your sense of humour, or lack thereof in his opinion. On the bad days, you had a snarky quip ready for even his most innocent comments. It was the most maddening thing for your friends - just as seemed that the two of you had finally learned to get along, Theo would take the mickey out of you, or you would turn your nose up at his boorish antics, and the cycle would repeat.

Unfortunately (or fortunately), all of that changed two weeks ago. It had happened on a brisk Wednesday night. His dorm was fresh out of bottled water and it was too late and too cold to sneak down to the Kitchens to get some. Mattheo was keeping everyone up fretting about what-if-someone-gets-extra-thirsty-in-the-middle-of-the-night-then-what and no one could get him to shut up. Naturally, Theo had been rather unceremoniously evicted from his cosy, dry bed to fetch water from the girls’ dormitory, after a unanimous (and unfair) vote.

So there he had stood outside the girls’ dormitory, shivering, waiting for one of your friends to bring out some water. He had glared at the distorted view of the moon through the common room walls, fuming about how it already was the middle of the night and none of his roommates seemed the least bit thirsty, not that Mattheo would listen to reason.

Finally, the door had swung open, and out of the shadows peered your wan, tired face.

Maybe it was something in the way your lips twisted in displeasure as your droopy eyes struggled to stay open. For some odd, inexplicable reason, he felt a pang of regret over having woken you.

If you were slightly more awake, you might have noticed the glazed look in his eyes. But as it were, all you had done was shove a small jug into his lax hands, manually curling his fingers around the handle when his grip refused to tighten. Of course, you and your roommates were too environmentally conscious to be entertaining single-use plastic.

“Hold still,” you had muttered as you tipped your room’s jug into the smaller one, filling it up. In the pale moonlight, it had been as though he was seeing you in a completely different light for the first time, both figuratively and otherwise. You hair looked unbearably soft from the way it cascaded down your shoulders. Almost as soft as your pillowy lips, which were now parting to release a sigh. And did your skin always smell this sweet, he wondered, as you stepped closer?

“You want a cookie?” you had asked waspishly when he had kept staring at you once his jug was full. That had snapped him out of his trance. After bidding you a hasty, clipped goodnight, he had crept back down to the boy’s dormitories, head reeling, heart thudding. Before finally nodding off in the wee hours of the morning, he had put the whole thing down to sleep deprivation.

But when you looked just as adorable in your 9 am Charms lesson the next day, bags under your eyes as you poorly stifled your yawns, he knew he was well and truly fucked.

That had been two weeks ago. Now, he’d be hard pressed to muster up any real sort of annoyance over the reactions you elicited from him, knowingly or otherwise.

You were all in the Great Hall, having breakfast. Your friends were talking about some book they had read recently. Mattheo and Draco were having an arm wrestling match right over their eggs. Enzo was yammering in Theo’s ear, not that he was listening. Theo had long since learned to tune out Enzo’s chatter until lunch, when he was sufficiently awake to actually process it.

No, what he was doing was watching you - watching the way you chewed on your bottom lip instead of your breakfast, a faint crease between your eyebrows as your eyes flitted across the parchment. He cast his eyes around the table listlessly, desperately wishing for a change in topic, preferably one that had to do with you.

His prayers were soon answered. Ivy turned away from her conversation to look at you.

“How’s the essay coming along, Y/N?”

You finally peeled your eyes away from the essay you were proofreading, sliding your gaze disinterestedly to Theo and the rest of your friends. He watched your sleepy, downturned eyes momentarily rest on his, a familiar electric jolt twinging in his chest. There was no denying it - what had previously seemed uninteresting or unimaginative was now hopelessly irresistible to him.

You scowled, flipping back to the first page. “Terrible. Awful. I don’t know what possessed McGonagall to let me take N.E.W.T level Transfiguration.”

Because you’re brilliant at it, Theo wanted to say, just like how you’re brilliant at everything else.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Ivy said reasonably as you haphazardly started gathering your things.

“It is, it really is. Even worse, my guinea pig escaped so now everyone has something to practice on except me.”

“I can be your Guinea pig,” Theo murmured. Mattheo gave him a hard shove in the shoulder blade.

“What?” You distractedly pushed a lock of hair out of your face.

He grimaced, a throbbing pain now settling in his upper back. “I said,” he forced out, “serves you right. Losing your guinea pig.”

You rolled your eyes. “Charming as ever, Nott.”

You hurriedly placed a kiss on Ivy’s cheek, glowering at Theo as you walked off. Just as he opened his mouth to ask (yell) where his kiss was, Mattheo shoved a bun into his mouth.

"Real subtle, mate," he said sarcastically.

Theo shot him a glare, but the delicate flush dusting his face betrayed him. "Shut up."

Mattheo only smirked, taking a bite of his own toast. "Whatever you say."

Some nights, trouble had a face. Tonight, it was yours.

He saw you before you saw him - tucked inside an alcove at the far end of the corridor, bathed in the flickering glow of a lone torch. It was the late kind of hour when nothing good was bound to happen. A half-empty bottle of firewhiskey dangled loosely from your fingers, the deep amber liquid catching the dim light as you swirled it absentmindedly.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this - pushing limits just for the sake of it. It wasn't immediately apparent, but anyone who paid close enough attention would see you had a habit of toeing the line between reckless and untouchable.

He should have walked away. Should’ve let you self-destruct in peace.

But Theo was never that smart when it came to you.

"You’re not exactly being subtle," he said, stepping out of the shadows.

You didn’t jump, didn’t startle. Instead, you turned to face him with a slow, deliberate ease, like you’d been expecting him all along.

"Wasn’t trying to be."

He raised his eyebrows.

"Could’ve fooled me."

You smirked, raising the bottle in a lazy toast before taking another sip.

"What, you gonna tell on me?"

Theo scoffed. "If I wanted to get you in trouble, you'd know."

"Mm. So you’re just here to nag, then?"

"Not nagging," Theo said. "Just pointing out that if you’re going to break the rules, you should at least be smart about it."

You hummed, swaying the bottle between your fingers, humming poorly. You were definitely well past tipsy. "Smart’s overrated."

"Yeah? So’s liver failure."

That made you laugh, short and sharp, like you hadn’t expected him to be funny.

He shouldn’t have cared about that. Shouldn’t have cared that his words - his stupid, judgemental, throwaway words - had gotten a laugh out of you.

But he did. And that was the problem.

You studied him for a moment before holding out the bottle. "Want some?"

He looked at it disdainfully. "Generous."

"Hardly," you said. "Figured it might loosen you up a bit. You’re wound tight, Nott."

Theo exhaled, crossing his arms. He knew all about being tightly wound when it came to you. "Right. Because getting pissed in a dark corridor is the key to inner peace."

"You should try it sometime."

"Hard pass."

You shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Then, just to be a menace, you took another slow swill, letting your lips linger at the rim of the bottle before licking a stray drop off the corner of your mouth.

Theo didn’t react. Wouldn’t react. You weren’t doing anything special. Just drinking. Just looking at him with that same lazy amusement, like you had him all figured out.

And maybe you did. Maybe that was what rattled him.

"You’re - " He started, but his tongue tripped over the word, catching slightly before he forced it out. "You’re d-drunk."

Your drooping eyes widened fractionally. Your lips parted in your efforts to concentrate as a slight frown creased your forehead, not all that different from the one at breakfast a few days ago,

Theo felt the heat crawl up his neck before he could stop it. His mind scrambled for damage control, but the way you were watching him - head tilted, intrigued, like you were piecing something together - made it worse.

"You good?" you asked, something teasing yet concerned in your tone.

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to regain control of his rogue tongue. "Obviously," he muttered, shifting his weight.

You let the silence stretch a beat too long before raising an eyebrow.

"You sure? ‘Cause for a second there, you almost sounded - "

"Drop it," he cut in, swiping the bottle from your hands before you could protest. He took a slow sip, letting the firewhiskey burn its way down, using it as an excuse to steady himself.

You watched him succumb to the buzz of the drink. "You’re changing the subject," you noted, smirking.

"Yeah?" He felt less wired, less sober. "You’re still an idiot for doing this in the open."

You watched him lean against the wall opposite yours, eyes gleaming in the dim alcove. You let him have that one. But just as he thought you were letting it go, your gaze flicked up, sharp and knowing.

"Don’t act like you’re any better," you mused.

Theo frowned. "What?"

You nodded toward his pocket, where a cigarette pack was sticking out slightly. "Don’t you go through, like, three packs a day?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. You had him there. "That’s not the same."

You widened your eyes mockingly. "No, you’re right. I might get liver failure in thirty years. You’re aiming for lung failure by, what - next week?"

Theo clicked his tongue, tucking the pack deeper into his pocket. "Cute."

"Not as cute as you stuttering over your words a minute ago."

Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I hate you."

"Sure you do," you murmured, grinning as you took back the firewhiskey.

The Slytherin common room was empty when you both stepped inside, drenched from head to toe. The fire crackled in the hearth, but the warmth did nothing to dry the water you trailed in as you stalked toward it.

Theo watched you try to wring out your sleeves with an air of great suffering, muttering something about "bloody weather conspiracies" under your breath as you peeled off some of your outer layers.

"This is all your fault," you grumbled.

Theo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his wet hair. "Yeah? How’s that?"

"You control everything else," you shot back, flicking a few stray drops of water at him. "Figured you had a deal with the bloody sky, too."

He smirked. "Don't give me ideas."

You rolled your eyes, crouching slightly to warm your frozen hands by the fire. Your clothes clung to your frame, and Theo forced himself to look away before his thoughts could wander into dangerous territory. Instead, he shrugged off his soaked sweater and tossed it over the back of the nearest couch.

"Relax. You’ll live," he said idly.

"You better hope so," you threatened. "If I don’t, I’m haunting you forever."

Theo snorted, undoing the cuffs of his shirt.

"I don't think you have the attention span for that."

You shot him a look. "I'd find a way," you said darkly.

"Sure," he agreed sarcastically.

You huffed, standing up straight again.

"And here I was, thinking you actually liked me."

The words were meant to be teasing, flippant, meaningless. But something about them made his pulse stutter.

Maybe it was the way you said it, light and careless, like the idea was so ridiculous it wasn’t even worth entertaining. Maybe it was the way the firelight flickered against your golden skin. Maybe it was the way a stray droplet trickled down your throat, inch by agonising inch, before disappearing beneath the collar of your shirt.

Maybe it was the fact that he did actually like you.

Theo didn’t know what made him say it - either the warmth from the fire or the cold still clinging to his skin or the fact that he could feel the exhaustion of restraint pressing against his ribs. But before he could stop himself, he was opening his mouth, lips forming words he had barely formulated.

"You look - " he started, then faltered.

Shit.

His tongue tripped, his brain suddenly too slow to catch up. He could feel the syllable stuck in his throat, unable to escape, the word stuttering into nothing.

"Y-you l - l -"

Silence.

"Oh, my god," you murmured, slow and smug, realisation dawning on your face.

Theo exhaled sharply, his stomach twisting as he tried to force his expression into something impassive, something cool, something...unaffected. In short, he tried attempting what was an impossible feat when your very features were enough to leave him dizzy.

A wicked smile unfurled across your face. He wasn’t getting out of this alive, was he?

"Do you not know how to talk?" you demanded, eyes glittering with suppressed mirth. "Is this your first day on planet Earth?"

Theo clenched his jaw, crossing his arms in a futile attempt to feign indifference. "Shut up."

You refused to let up. "No, really. What was that? You looked - what? What do I look like, Theo? Enlighten me."

He forced himself to roll his eyes as his fingers curled into his sleeves. "You’re insufferable."

"J-j-j-j - " You stuttered mockingly, eyes alight with mischief. "What are you, an idiot? Does your tongue need rewiring?"

Theo should’ve turned away, should’ve thrown himself onto the couch and forced himself to think about literally anything else. But he couldn’t help it.

He watched you - watched the way you grinned to yourself, watched the way your fingers twisted in the fabric of your damp clothes, watched the way you were so completely and utterly oblivious to the way you made his mind unravel.

It wasn’t just attraction. It wasn’t just the heat in his chest or the feeling in his bones or the fact that his name sounded so damn good dripping off your honeyed lips while you teased him.

It was everything.

It was the way you filled every empty space like you belonged there, like you’d always belonged there. It was the way your laughter lived in his head rent-free, the way you made even the most infuriating drivel you spouted feel like something he couldn't bear to go without. It was the fact that no matter how much you poked and prodded, no matter how ruthlessly or relentlessly you mocked him - he still wanted you. Desperately.

He should be embarrassed. The Theo of a few years ago would have been - would’ve burned with the humiliation, would’ve clenched his fists at the reminder of all the times he’d stood in front of his father, struggling to string together a coherent sentence under the weight of that unimpressed gaze.

But you were different. He could hear it in your voice, buried beneath the teasing - the unmistakable warmth, the absolute delight you took in making fun of him. Not because you wanted to humiliate him, but because it amused you. It endeared him to you. Because you liked getting under his skin.

And, Merlin help him, he liked that you liked it.

"Go on," you continued mockingly, roughly drying your hair with a towel, still oblivious to Theo watching you like you hung the stars and moon. "Careful with the big words, now."

Theo just stood there, staring at you, utterly gone. He wasn’t even trying to school his expression anymore.

When you finally looked up from drying yourself, your teasing faltered ever so slightly at the look in his eyes.

You blinked. “What?”

Theo shook his head, leaning against the wall thoughtfully.

“Nothing.”

You stilled. Because for the first time, you actually noticed. Theo wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t enduring your teasing with quiet exasperation.

He was watching you with something softer - something warmer, something dangerously close to adoration. It lingered in the lines of his face, in the almost-smile playing at his lips, in the flicker of fondness he couldn’t quite suppress fast enough before your eyes met his.

You stared back, speechless. Theo swallowed, tearing his gaze away, turning sharply as if shaking himself out of it.

"You should dry off before you actually get sick," he muttered, forcing his voice into something steady.

You stared at him for half a second longer, something unreadable in your expression.

"Right," you finally said, clearing your throat.

Neither of you acknowledged the moment for what it was. But the resurgence of Theo's stutter remained a secret kept only between the two of you.

[astonmartinii]

day one: when you wish upon a star | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem reader

he's been begging max to set him up ... and look who has him in the grid secret santa!

christmas song: my only wish (this year) - britney spears

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,209,488 others

tagged: carlossainz55, pierregasly & landonorris

f1: it's that time of the year again... it's secret santa time!

view all comments

user1: THE SPEEDOS????

user2: 100% from valterri

user3: what do we have to do to see them on tho ???

user4: HUH?

user3: we're all thinking it??

alexalbon: since you're a blabber mouth @charles_leclerc PLEASE PUT MORE EFFORT INTO YOUR GIFT THIS YEAR

charles_leclerc: my gift was great last year idk what you people are talking about

alexalbon: if i unwrap a calendar i will set horsey on leo

charles_leclerc: @rspca GET HIM

user5: i love with secret santa you can really tell which drivers are actually friends lol

user6: charles... we're looking at you last year

user7: the teaser showed that max got lando ... could be interesting after this season

maxverstappen1: not that i need to ... but i have a plan

user8: really?

maxverstappen1: i have concepts of a plan!

landonorris: please don't like gift wrap like a litter box or something

maxverstappen1: oh i like my cats much more than i like you why would i do that?

maxverstappen1: AHA! I HAVE IT

landonorris: that sounds ominous

carlossainz55: is it something to do with his pathetic crush on a certain someone

landonorris: LALALALALLALALA SHUT THE FUCK UP I DON'T WANT THE WORLD TO KNOW ABOUT THAT MAX PLEASE DON'T I'M SORRY ABOUT AUSTRIA

user9: well now it needs to happen...

user10: whoever came up with the grid secret santa i need to give you a big fat kiss

maxverstappen1: you might not be the only one ....

landonorris: SHUT UP

maxverstappen1: hehehehehee

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 14,055 others

yourusername: gift giving is my love language

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user14: okay lando i kinda get you

user15: she's friends with max and looks like that and hasn't been hooked? where is the hope for all of us

maxverstappen1: hideous personality 👍

yourusername: and you're my best friend so what does that say about you?

maxverstappen1: i have zero standards?

yourusername: girl fuck you

user16: i hate bitches that can actually wrap gifts

user17: leave me alone with my crinkled shit held together with a whole roll of tape

landonorris: my love language is words of affirmation :3

yourusername: okay mr praise kink

landonorris: WHAT? NO?

yourusername: whatever you wanna say babygirl

landonorris: oh i ... um - yes!

user18: oh brother this dude stinks

alexalbon: he is even worse in real life

oscarpiastri: but it is just as entertaining

landonorris: i'm glad my low self esteem is so funny for you guys

yourusername: you're amazing lando - don't think badly of yourself :(

landonorris: did you or did you not call me a 'stumpy, entitled british bum' the other day?

yourusername: well that's because you were fighting max and unfortunately we're two trauma bonded cats and he therefore comes first

yourusername: but i still love you!

landonorris: LOVE?

user19: someone check on him?

oscarpiastri: i just found him passed out in his driver's room

georgerussell63: that's becoming blackmail material

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 803,405 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

landonorris: didn't manage to win the championship this time round but i'm hoping max got me something good in the secret santa to say sorry

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user20: thank god this season is ending

user21: i think it would've killed me if this title race went to abu dhabi again

user22: it's pookie on pookie crime

user23: i fear one of the pookies may have killed the other if this went on any longer

maxverstappen1: wouldn't you like to know weather boy

landonorris: um yes? i hate surprises

maxverstappen1: i think you might like this one 😈

landonorris: that emoji makes me think you've been scheming

maxverstappen1: maybe i have? you'll just have to wait and see ...

landonorris: STOP I CAN HEAR YOUR EVIL LAUGHTER FROM HERE

landonorris: seriosuly how many of you are in on this it sounds like a pack of hyenas this is meant to be SECRET santa

alexalbon: what do you mean i don't know anything about this ...

landonorris: alex YOU CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AROUND ME

alexalbon: maybe i just find you real funny lando?

landonorris: really?

alexalbon: NO

user24: they are enjoying torturing him way too much

maxverstappen1: call it karma for all the shit he talked throughout the season

landonorris: NOO I THOUGHT I WAS GETTING A NICE GIFT ???

maxverstappen1: oh it's definitely a gift for somone...

landonorris: i deadass won't come to the paddock

yourusername: you'll win it soon lands - just wait for max to retire so i can support you wholeheartedly

landonorris: why not now :((((

yourusername: don't worry babe he's old he'll retire in no time

landonorris: yay 🥳 🙌 😀

maxverstappen1: excuse me?

landonorris: is four championships and y/n not enough?

maxverstappen1: no!

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,302,558 others

tagged: yourusername & landonorris

maxverstappen1: not just because i want another trophy, but i'll pick up my best secret santa award now thanks

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user25: he didn't ???

user26: i think he did

user27: is that not like prostitution?

maxverstappen1: i don't think giving lando a chance to embarrass himself on a date is prostitution

user28: do you have any faith in him?

maxverstappen1: in him? no. but does y/n also have horrible standards and is easily impressed? yes.

alexalbon: he folded so quickly i hope they got it all on camera

oscarpiastri: that was so humiliating it might have to go on a more x rated website

landonorris: OSCAR????

oscarpiastri: it was harrowing mate but she seemed to like it so go you?

carlossainz55: that was a crazy reaction for it to just be y/n

maxverstappen1: i think you're trying to be funny but it might JUST be a skill issue

landonorris: JUST Y/N? KILL YOURSELF

carlossainz55: woah where is the christmas cheer?

landonorris: i will run you over with my sleigh

landonorris: THIS IS THE BEST GIFT ANYONE HAS EVER GOTTEN ME PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE

user29: bro is so down bad that he just took carlando out back and shot them

user30: bro is so lost in the sauce that he is threatening a festive hit and run

yourusername: okay max we can stop pretending that i wasn't also begging you to set me up with lando

maxverstappen1: but it's so funny watching him make a fool of himself

landonorris: HUH???

yourusername: newsflash baby, i'm just as in love with you as you are with me

landonorris: AHHHHHHHHH <333333333

landonorris: i'm sorry i'll get back to being in love with you one sec

landonorris: @alexalbon @georgerussell63 @oscarpiastri @carlossainz55 SUCK ON THAT

landonorris: okay i love you y/n :3

yourusername: i love you too you crazy boy

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 1,430,973 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: christmas wishes do come true!

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user34: so how long do you think he's had that shirt in preparation?

landonorris: 18 months at least - i have faith in myself even if the others didn't

user35: i can't tell if that's creepy or?

landonorris: IT'S ROMANTIC

yourusername: kiss me it's christmas!

landonorris: only because it's christmas?

yourusername: i guess i can give you a couple more passes...

landonorris: not to be dramatic but now i know what it feels like i might die without it

yourusername: not dramatic at all !!!

maxverstappen1: it is kinda dramatic ...

yourusername: SHUSH!

maxverstappen1: i knew you were mushy about this (your diary reads like a very badly written romance book) but good lord this is awful THESE ARE PUBLIC COMMENTS

yourusername: I FUCKING KNEW YOU READ MY DIARY

maxverstappen1: duh! how else did you think this little scheme came to be?

yourusername: ugh i guess

user36: so like where do i get an f1 driver bestfriend who will invade my privacy to get me a bf?

user37: might just start throwing my diary in the paddock at this point

alexalbon: ur so pathetic i love you

yourusername: excuse me old man

alexalbon: old? OLD?

yourusername: i don't care to google you but i've seen you try and read a menu and scan a QR code so stop declaring your love for my boyf or i will keep going

landonorris: she's so possessive 😩😩😩

yourusername: i ate too many grapes on new year's eve to not get and keep my man

alexalbon: trust me, no one wants ur man

yourusername: tell that to the teenage girls in my DMs

user38: it's a pleasant surprise to see that y/n is just as down bad as lando

user39: match made in heaven ... this MIGHT make me a max verstappen fan

user40: i fear this will be an f1 custody battle for the ages

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 78,209 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: my only wish this year was to finally get you <3

view all comments

user41: i already liked this queen but a queen who loves britney spears christmas... that's mother

user42: one of these most underrated christmas songs ever

oscarpiastri: ... some people have even witnessed her live rendition of it

yourusername: don't sound too excited about it then

oscarpiastri: i appreciated the enthusiasm but like i feel like it was a PRIVATE moment ... not for the whole of the garage to see

landonorris: someone is missing lily ....

user43: i am trying to be joyful as per the holiday season but i am absolutely seething with jealousy

user44: hey siri play that should be me

yourusername: nope sorry never gonna happen :P

user45: okay girl you've made your point no need to rub it in our faces

yourusername: actually i think i will! my bf is pretty why wouldn't i show that off ?

user46: yall can hate her for this but realistically this is how we'd all be if we pulled lando

landonorris: you guys acting as if i'm the catch when it's literally her...

user47: do we think santa's elves can make me a lando norris? REAL ANSWERS ONLY ...

maxverstappen1: WOW you wouldn't think this was a double date trip ...

yourusername: you can't complain about BOTH of us pining and then be annoyed about us being lovey dovey

maxverstappen1: i can and i WILL

landonorris: you know what max you can complain all you want because this has been the BEST secret santa ever

maxverstappen1: so you won't call me a dirty driver next season?

landonorris: eh?

yourusername: make no mistake lando, i may love you but my loyalties on track remain with max

landonorris: as long as you're still coming home with me i guess i'll deal with it

yourusername: luv u xxxx

landonorris: i love you tooooo xxx

user48: is y/n going to do more for the on track tension than the literal fia?

yourusername: always gotta be a woman sorting everything out

user50: babe i think max is just afraid of you and lando is so in love he'll do anything for you

yourusername: AS THEY SHOULD BE

fin.

note: and on the first day of christmas aston martini gave to me a smau that undos all of our max vs lando tension from the season !! thought i'd treat yall to the first day early <33

[rechvlle]

۶ৎ sticky like lipgloss ₊˚♡

ᝰ.ᐟ synopsis ── after a particularly intense fight with your boyfriend, thanos, you seek out the comfort of his best friend, nam-gyu, which, not only is wrong—at least to thanos—but it ends up wrong, too.

♡ featuring ── thanos/choi su-bong (player 230) x female!reader x nam-gyu (player 124) ♡ word count ── 3.4k ♡ content warnings ── college au (they have money and aren't in debt, not as bad, anyway) ◞ established relationship ◞ cheating ◞ soft!namgyu ◞ desperate!needy!reader ◞ slight (more implied) emotional abuse ◞ manipulation ◞ toxic relationship(s) ◞ impulsive decisions ◞ kissing ◞ mentions of make-up sex ◞ vaginal fingering ◞ vaginal penetration ◞ pet names (baby, sugar, etc.) ◞ praying mantis position ◞ downward doggy position ◞ safe sex ◞ slight praise kink ◞ lowkey vanilla ◞ spanking ◞ mentions of anal ◞ coincidental creampie ♡ author note ── me after finishing fanfic after months of deleting and rewriting over ten…? i mean, this is a one-shot so… anyway tho, the title has kinda no correlation to the fic, i just needed a title guys, don't sue me :-( anyway, had fun writing this ^_^ tell me if I missed any tags…

What could—no, what is worse: being held at gunpoint, fearing for your life, or having an argument with your boyfriend? Being held at gunpoint; the choice is obvious and it isn’t arguable, it’s quite objective. Whilst fearing for your life is truly terrifying and will, most certainly, cause trauma to one another, your body simply cannot tell the difference between such.

It’s pitiful, truly. In a way, you’re too attached to your drugged-up, junkie-ass boyfriend, so due to the amount of love you have for him, whenever the two of you argue, it’s as if you—and your body—cannot tell the difference in a near-death experience versus arguing or being yelled at by your boyfriend. You are truly pathetic.

It’s sickening at how easily you and Su-bong, or well, Thanos, fight.

Oddly enough, not too soon after he started his rapping career, he wanted you to call him Thanos. You two fought about that—except, he started the fight. He thought that you didn’t love him because you weren’t going to familiarly call him Thanos instead of Su-bong. You obliged in the end, though; you didn’t want him to think the worst of you.

You were addicted to his touch, his love, his affection—anything and everything that he would be willing to give you—so whenever he’s upset, you need to make him happy, to resolve things as quickly as possible. So, sex was common after fights. Su-bong never rejected the offer, he wanted it, too—almost always, anyway.

Except, this time, he wasn’t going to fold so easily.

“Come on, baby! We both know what happened,” Su-bong said, gripping your forearm tightly with his left arm.

His nails dug into your skin, leaving small crescent marks; expression guarded, angry, almost hateful. Su-bong slightly shook you, not hard enough or just enough to make you dizzy, but the right amount to make you annoyed.

“Su-bong, I didn’t—“

The hand that held your arm shot up to your face, interrupting you with his index finger to your lips.

“Ah-ah, not my name,” Su-bong spoke in a sing-song voice, almost mocking.

“Thanos,” you started—his face turned towards more approving, but you could still see (and sense) his anger. “I wasn’t flirting with anyone.”

Right. He’s upset, no, furious, at you for “cheating on him,” because you “flirted” with someone else (you asked for a pen during class). And of course, like the “professional accuser” that he is—and due to you and him having that class together—he took your words as flirting.

Because 1) why would you need anything else from anyone other than him? Is he not good enough for you? 2) you don’t need to talk to anyone else other than him, let alone ask for something. It’s disrespectful, you’re cheating, a liar.

“Don’t lie, now. You didn’t need to ask him,” Su-bong—no, Thanos—whined. He pulled his hand away from your face, rolling his eyes in the process.

“It was just for a pen. You know I’m not like that!” You almost screamed, you were already breathing pretty hard; you were overwhelmed, overstimulated.

Thanos is high, of course, so there’s no telling how extreme his reactions will be. Once, he slammed you against the wall, even smacked you, but nothing too fatal or hurtful. Maybe.

“Y/N, I’m bein’ pretty fuckin’ lenient with you right now,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, yet again.

“Thanos, I’m sorry, really! It didn't mean anything!” You pleaded with him, your hands coming to grasp his arms, biting your lip.

You gave Thanos your signature look: seductive eyes, bitten bottom lip, the touches—oh, he loved it all. Yet, to him, at this moment, he doesn't feel any sort of sympathy for you, he doesn't feel aroused or turned on by this. He finds it too serious—especially when he’s high out of his mind, much like how he is now.

“Nuh-uh, baby, that isn't going to work on me right now.”

You could, in a way, feel your heart drop. What did he mean it wasn't going to work? Doesn't he see how stressed out you are right now? How needy—in a way—that you are right now?

“Thanos, please, let me make it up to you!” You could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, the pouty, desperate look you had on your face.

“Nah, I know what you’re trying to do. Cheat me out like a whore, huh?” He pulled away from your touch, shoving you in the process.

“Why don’t you go to that bitch you asked to borrow from?” He looked at you, almost crazed, gripping your arms now, hard, his nails, yet again, digging into your skin. It was painful.

Your mouth was agape as he continued to yell at you, hurling a few insults your way: “Fuckin’ whore,” “dumb bitch,” would be a few.

You couldn't take it. You were borderline hyperventilating, stressed, and hurt. Why would Thanos think of you as a cheater? You’ve never done anything that could prove you to be one; never cheated or lied to do something with another. He has, yet you trust him.

As soon as you got out of Thanos’ grip, you bolted out of your guy’s dormitory. You could smell the weed on him, the redness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

Normally, you didn't care if he was high or got high, as long as it wasn't hardcore drugs—although, he lied every time you asked, always saying it was weed. You knew better, you’re smarter than that, yet you still trusted him.

Now, though? You’re upset and hurt, and who was the first person that came to your mind? Nam-gyu. Every time you and Thanos fought, he was always there for you to cheer you up, make you feel better, and reassure you when Thanos didn't (or wouldn’t).

The knocks against Nam-gyu’s door were insistent; your knuckles rasped against the wood of it. You stood outside for a few seconds, waiting, your arms slightly crossed, your hands holding onto your elbows.

Nam-gyu opened the door, rubbing his eyes for a moment, his gaze focusing on you.

“Y/N? What’re you doin’ here?” He asked, grabbing one of your arms, and pulling you inside.

“It—he…” You couldn't get your words out, just shaking your head. Nam-gyu understood, though.

“‘Ey, it’s okay, c’mere,” he pulled you in for a hug, nothing tight, though. “Just tell me what happened.”

Of course, you did, through a series of sobs and pauses, but he gave his advice.

“It’ll be okay, Y/N. Look, I’m sure he didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” he held you against his chest, sitting down on the couch in his living area.

You sniffle, nodding, your hands draped around his neck. He could feel your cold hands against his warm neck. Nam-gyu always smelt of some sort of musk and drugs, dirty. In a way, it was a very comforting smell to you.

He rubbed your lower back before patting your head, running his hands through your hair, rubbing your scalp, too. It was always so comforting to you: his touches, the way he softly kisses your head, rubs your body, makes you feel so good.

“Nam-gyu, can you…?” You stopped yourself before you could finish your sentence, a bit unsure of how to word your question.

“Yeah? What is it?”

You stayed silent for a moment before looking up at him. You spoke softly to him, “Make me feel better, please.”

Nam-gyu was a bit stunned; you’re Thanos’ girl, not his, not Nam-gyu’s. Yet ever since Thanos introduced you two, Nam-gyu has always had a thing for you: checking you out, those subtle touches and “platonic,” “reassuring” kisses that he’d give you, the soft and sweet way he’d talk to you.

In a way, he wanted to take you as his own. He knows that Thanos would be upset, angry, really fucking angry. Yet he can’t help himself to these thoughts, these sick, dirty thoughts.

Nam-gyu quickly recovered, though, a smirk on his face.

“Yeah, baby, just let me take care of you,” his voice was sickeningly sweet, twisted, a little.

Nam-gyu cradled you, picking you up in one swing, your hands still wrapped around his neck, his hands holding you by your waist and your butt. He kept you close, walking you to his bedroom. (His dorm mates were out, no need to worry.)

He sat you down on the edge of his bed, just your feet sticking out. His sheets were rough, nothing like the silk you sleep on in your room. You didn't mind it, though.

You know it’s wrong; just before leaving, you told Thanos that you’d never cheat, yet here you are. Although, a part of you didn't care. Thanos was being a dick, a complete douche. Maybe all you need is a little break from his toxic cock, maybe you need to try his friend’s.

Nam-gyu pulled your shirt up and over your head, the cute, lace, pink bra you normally wear fully exposed to him. He smirked in response, wrapping one of his arms around your upper back, pushing your body up just enough to unclasp your bra, pulling the straps of your bra down, and pulling it off of you.

You felt fully exposed. You’ve only ever been this close to Thanos and an ex from high school. Nam-gyu would be the third person to ever be this close, this intimate.

He let go of her body, letting her body hit the bed.

“You know, you’re beautiful, Y/N,” he spoke, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses down your neck, collarbone, and then to your chest. His mouth found the areola of your breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. His right-hand kneaded at her breast, sending stimulants.

You softly moaned at the sensation. It wasn't as intense as rubbing your clit would be or penetration, but it was still stimulating to get you wet (and ready).

Nam-gyu continued to suck at your breast while his left-hand unbuttoned your jean shorts, slipping his hand through the rough fabric of the denim and the same, lace fabric—of your matching bra—of your panties.

You sucked in a breath, your corresponding hand coming to grab at the one inside your pants.

“Nam-gyu, wait—”

His mouth retracted from your breast, his hands still their movement. He thought you wanted this.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Your lips twitched. You wanted to tell him to stop, that this would be wrong. You asked for it, though, and truly you wanted it, so you retracted your hand. Nam-gyu didn't let your hesitant expression slip his interest.

“You want me to stop?”

You quickly shook your head. Nam-gyu smirked, muttering an “okay,” before slipping your denim shorts off. His eyes stayed on the lace fabric of your panties, he could see the damp spot, your wetness, your arousal.

His fingers went to massage the area, swirling the fabric around with his fingers.

“Man, look at that…” His tone was almost mocking, it made you whimper, almost reminding you of Thanos’ toxic words. “You’re so wet, sweetheart.”

His words made you clench, around nothing, too. That didn’t go unnoticed by Nam-gyu, he could just feel your desperation through your panties. He pulled his fingers away, slipping them off of you.

Your breath hitched at his actions. You could feel the cold air of Nam-gyu’s dorm against your core. He noticed and took advantage of that: moving his hand in a way that would blow air toward you. He noticed your slightly erotic reaction and slathered himself in the success of pleasing you, even just slightly.

You whined, “Don’t tease, please,” your voice was almost angelic to him, the neediness in it just spoke to him like a siren to a sailor.

Nam-gyu obliged, of course. He didn’t want to put any more stress on you than there already is. He dove right in: his middle and ring finger rubbing at your already-wet clit.

“You wanted this, baby?”

You eagerly nodded at Nam-gyu’s words, softly whimpering at his actions. He reveled in the fact that he could pleasure you, maybe even better so than Thanos. His fingers continued their ministrations on your clit, rubbing you just the right way; you moaned at such, almost wanting to beg for more.

Nam-gyu took your whimpers, moans, and gasps as a sign to go further. His fingers moved away from your clit to the inside of your cunny. It was a fast movement, it made you gasp a bit louder, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, your hands found themselves clawing at his sheets. He kept his fingers at a steady pace, curling them up at just the right spot.

“Oh-oh, Nam-gyu…” You whined out the last vowel in his name, feeling his fingers curl up at your g-spot.

“Yeah? Wha’d’ya want, sugar?” He continued to speak with a mocking yet also prideful tone.

You couldn't respond, as you could barely form a coherent thought. The only thing that you are thinking of right now: is Nam-gyu, and the damn-good way that he’s fingering you.

Except, something clicked in your mind. Sugar. He called you “sugar.” Thanos would often use that nickname on you whenever he was doting on you, loving on you—overall, just being a good boyfriend. Except for the fact that his emotions can change like a flipped switch…

That didn't matter to you, though, you quickly blocked it out of your mind. You didn't want to focus on your piece of shit boyfriend.

Just as quickly as the thought occurred to you and as quickly as you pushed it out, you came; your orgasm crashing down on you. Nam-gyu certainly knows how to work with his hands, and you loved that. (Maybe his work was better than Thanos’.)

He pulled his fingers out of you, looking at the sticky substance that coated them, a thin line that connected between his ring and middle finger. He rubbed his hand back onto your pussy.

“Come on, sugar, time for the real show.”

Nam-gyu shrugged his sweatpants and boxers off in a blink, his thick cock springing out. He was already leaking pre-cum.

“Condom?” He asked you, his eyes darting away from your wetness.

Your eyes met his, nodding. If you were going to cheat, you didn't want to be an absolute bitch and get pregnant by his best friend. Just “casual,” “I need some stress relief,” fucking (because of your boyfriend’s douchebag ways.)

Nam-gyu sat up and off of his bed, he grabbed a condom off of a random shelf in his room. You didn't question it.

“Scoot up a bit.”

You did as he asked, moving your body up until your head felt the (very slight) comfort of his pillows. He smiled at the action, moving over and on top of you. He lined his manhood up to your wet entrance.

“You ready, baby?” He asked, his hands coming to rub on your sides, you nodded.

Nam-gyu almost immediately enveloped himself inside of you. You scream-moaned. He was thick, nothing like Thanos—not to say he wasn’t, but the difference was transparent.

“Fuck, fuck…” You breathed heavily, and your hands went to grab at his shoulders, feeling the pain of being stretched out.

Nam-gyu was a patient man, though (sometimes, not really), he didn't want to rush you.

“Too much?”

You shook your head at his question, almost whining. You didn't want him to stop. The stretch was fucking intense, but good God did it feel good.

Nam-gyu nodded, moving slowly at first, just to test the waters.

“Oh-Ah!” Your nails dug into his shoulders, fuck, it felt good.

Nam-gyu halted his movements, his eyes making contact with yours as you moaned. He gave you a look (as if) to ask: “Keep going?” or “Are you okay?” You nodded when you two made eye contact. You wanted this.

Nam-gyu did so. He started sluggish, sensual as if to memorize the feeling of your insides. You were tight, perfect. God, he loved the way that you felt.

It was almost teasing at how slow his movements were. Of course, he wanted to prolong the moment, but you needed this release.

“Nam-gyu, please, just go a bit faster, because shit, I—”

Almost as on cue, he heard you say “faster,” he did. His hips moved at a swift pace, you could hear the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin.

He moved his right hand from your side, using it to grab your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. His cock went deeper inside you.

“Aah—Nam-gyu!” You couldn't help but moan, your head leaning back into the pillow, your hands marking up his back, now.

He grunted at your sounds, not letting up his pace. After such a toxic night with your boyfriend, how could he not give you what you want, what you need?

Your legs twitched at his movements, God, you loved it. His cock hit your cervix a few times, and his movements became a bit more rough. With the new angle, his balls were slapping against your ass.

He kept up, his hand roughly smacking against the thigh that he held up. He knows that you're close, and he wants you to feel that pleasure, yet at the same time, he also wants to prolong this moment as long as possible. He needs this pussy, your pussy.

Just as he felt your walls clench around him, he pulled out—not like he was about to cum.

“Flip over for me, sugar,” He said, patting your thigh before letting it go.

You knew where this was going, and you wanted to entertain that, so you obliged. Your head was in the pillow, ass up.

Nam-gyu held onto your hips as he pushed his dick back inside you.

“Shit, I’m never letting you go after this.”

Nam-gyu knew how upset Thanos would be if he knew that he was fucking his girlfriend right now, but she came onto him. Not his fault (even if he did like her first.) In a way, though, he didn't care about his reaction, all he was focusing on was the pretty pussy that he was fucking right now.

You moaned at the sensations, loud and slutty; like a whore. In which, you were one, but you didn't care about that at the moment.

“So good for me, sugar. Just the way I like it,” Nam-gyu picked up on the fact you liked being praised.

You couldn't help the moan of pleasure and need that came out of your mouth from his words. Good God, how much you like being praised, being told how good you are, it’s pathetic; makes you go completely weak, like a helpless puppy.

You moved your hips against him, in a way so you could feel more of him, get him as deeply inside you as possible.

Nam-gyu smirked at your actions, one of his hands smacking your ass.

“Shh, c’mon. Let me do the work,” He sounded so confident, so sure of himself that he could please you, and you loved it.

The way his thrusts were almost rhythmic yet rough. His cock was thick and just perfect for you, the move of his hips was perfect, too.

“Nam-gyu, fuck…” You couldn't help but moan out his name, it felt so good on your tongue.

He smacked your ass again, speaking to you with a bit more authority, “Yeah, ‘atta girl. Who do you belong to?”

“You! You, Nam-gyu!”

You couldn't help the words that just rolled out of your mouth. Thanos would always ask you that question during sex, while his dick was deep inside your cunny or your ass, you’d always say that you belong to him.

Nam-gyu continued his assault on your pussy, his movements becoming more ragged and uncontrolled. He knew he was close. You were, too; the way your gummy, little walls were clenching around his dick.

With a final thrust of his hips, he came inside the condom inside of you. Your orgasm came washing down over you at the same time he did. You breathed heavily, feeling his cock leave you empty. Yet, at the same time that he pulled out, so did another substance.

©2025 rechvlle do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on any other sites.