#just… i think he kind of sucks and maybe this is the wake up call people need to see that he’s a massive fuckboi irl

[touchlikethesun]

(((a small part of me, very small part, wants the kylie and timmy rumors to be true, not because i’m invested, but because he is the kind of guy to date a girl like that, they are definitely cut from the same cloth, and the only reason people don’t think so, is because he’s crafted an image for himself in opposition to That Life, but it’s not reality, and i think it might be good for the internet to reckon with the fact that he is not the characters he portrays)))

[hausofwoo]

handy | choi san

pairing: choi san x afab reader

word count: 5K

summary: you move into a shitty apartment with a long list of maintenance issues. your landlord puts off sending someone to fix them, only making your frustrations grow. that is, until the maintenance man finally arrives and you discover that he's hot... and you find yourself making excuses for him to keep coming back.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, maintenance man!san, tenant!reader, reader is kind of a perv lol, unprotected piv (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), san is a tease, fingering, hair pulling (m receiving), cumplay, kitchen counter sex!!!, he kinda throws u around hehehe, choking, dacryphilia, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: umm.... hahaha um...... so this is lowkey based on a recent experience i had of my maintenance man coming to fix some shit in my apt and he strangely had SO much rizz and i was like wait a minute.... this could be a great fic idea LMAO thank u to @hausofmingi for being my beta-reader ily always ♡

when you signed your lease at your new apartment, you didn’t expect to sign up for a list of problems.

you desperately needed a new place to live, and with the measly budget you had for rent, all that was left available were slim pickings. so when you finally found a small 1 bedroom apartment that wasn’t double your desired price, you jumped at the opportunity. you applied for the place on the spot and were approved the same day. you didn’t really think anything of it, but when you finally got settled in and actually gave a good look at your newfound home… you were in for a fucking nightmare.

for starters, the window unit in the bedroom wouldn’t blow cool air. it’s right in the heat of the summer, so coming home after a long day only to sweat all night long was not cutting it for you. you put in a maintenance request through your tenant portal app the first day when you realized this.

another annoyance was the dishwasher. one of your biggest must-haves was to have an actual working one. maybe you were asking a bit much with your budget, but with the amount that you work, it was imperative. you were thrilled to see the dishwasher during the viewing, only to find a few days worth of dirty dishes later, that said dishwasher was rusty and moldy. literally unusable. so you put in another maintenance request.

last one, and maybe now you’re just getting picky because you’re pissed, but your shower water pressure sucked, and by the time you would finish a shower, the water would take forever to drain. another request sent.

all these maintenance requests and not a single one fixed. you started to wonder if the tenant portal app even worked, so you called your landlord, only to grapple with them on finding a time for them to fix it while you’re still home. you might want these things fixed asap, but you’re not willing to let a stranger in your space when you’re not there.

you started to fucking lose it. a few weeks with no cold air, shitty water pressure, and dishes piling up your sink, and not one thing being done about it. you call your landlord one more time, urging them to finally fix these issues, arguing that they should’ve been fixed before you even moved in. and with that last push, they finally caved and did their fucking job. they said they’re sending someone there first thing tomorrow.

so when you finally wake up and go about your day-off routine, you’re constantly watching the clock. when they said “first thing tomorrow,” did they mean “first thing tomorrow once the maintenance man feels like it”? because it’s already pushing noon and you’re getting impatient. it’s obnoxious; you’re not able to run any errands (let alone actually go out and enjoy your day off) and you’re just waiting around for some dude to actually do the job you’ve been asking for for weeks.

just as you find yourself dialing the landlord’s number, you hear a knock at your door. fucking FINALLY. you jump off your couch, mind spewing profanities out of frustration. you walk towards the door, ready to give this stupid maintenance man a piece of your mind. you swing open the door, and your heart drops.

the maintenance man stands before you, with a tight black tank that hugged his muscular build and dirty worn jeans. he has a tool belt strapped to his (surprisingly small?) waist and a heavy tool box gripped in his hand. he’s a little dirty, and his chest is shiny with sweat due to the humid outside air. his rugged exterior is a huge juxtaposition to his face, however, with sharp yet kind eyes and a sweet smile.

“you need some maintenance done?” he asks.

“oh, uh, yes,” you stumble, suddenly at a loss for words. “come on in.” you hold the door open, allowing him to walk through to your living room.

“so you’re having issues with your water pressure?” he says, looking around the apartment.

“yeah, that and a few other things,” you reply. “but the biggest thing is the window unit in my room. it doesn’t blow any cold air.”

“i can fix that,” he looks at you with a grin. “which one’s the bedroom?”

you walk him to your room, thanking god he can’t see the blush forming on your face. he walks in and places his tool box down, promptly inspecting the window unit.

“i’ll just let you do your thing,” you say, twiddling your thumbs. “i’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

he nods, and you go back to sit on your couch. you mindlessly scroll through your phone, all while spiraling in your head. did your landlord hire this guy from a fucking modeling agency? he has the build for handyman work, that is certain. however, his face is what’s really getting to you. he could be on the cover of vogue and you wouldn’t bat an eye. but there he is, working on a shitty a/c window unit in your room.

you suddenly become hyper aware of the appearance of your bedroom. what does he think about your decor? is he cringing at the plushies sat on your bed? what if you left a pair of underwear out? oh my god, did you leave your nightstand drawer open, with your vibrator out for the whole world to see?

“it looks like you’ll need a whole new window unit,” he says from your room, interrupting your swarming thoughts. “this one doesn’t even have heat, and you’ll need that for winter.”

“oh, yeah,” you say, getting up and standing in your bedroom doorway. “how long will it take to get a new one? this heat has been brutal.”

“i should be able to bring one tomorrow, if you’re available,” he says, turning back to look at you as he closes up the tool box.

“i’m available,” you say all too quick. dude. be cool. “i mean, yeah, i can try to get off work a little earlier, maybe at like 3?”

“works for me,” he smiles, standing up. “can i get your number?”

you can’t hide your blush this time, nodding at the insinuation, but knowing it was just to iron out arrangements. “here,” you say, opening your phone messages so he can send himself a text.

he types away and hands your phone back. “you need a new dishwasher too, right?”

“i do,” you confirm.

“i can try and get you one by tomorrow too,” he says. “i’m off duty by like 5, so hopefully i’ll have enough time. now the shower?”

you nod and lead him to your bathroom. he examines the shower head, and you watch your cat approach him from behind.

“oh my god,” he says, startled at your cat rubbing against his leg. “this little dude came out of nowhere!” he reaches down to pet him, all while he’s purring up a storm.

“wow, he really likes you,” you stand shocked. your cat is always so standoffish to strangers, usually hiding under your bed or couch. but he’s rubbing against your maintenance man’s legs like he’s best friends with him.

“cats tend to really like me, i don’t know why,” he chuckles, scratching at your cat’s head. “what’s his name?”

“leo,” you say.

“like the zodiac sign?” he looks up at you while still petting him.

“yeah, i wanted to name him after his own sign but he’s a cancer, soooo…” you trail off, awkwardly fiddling with your hands.

“i’m a cancer!” he lights up, looking back down at leo. “no wonder we get along.”

you smile, and then realize you’re staring again. “i’ll go back in here so you can work.”

after distracting yourself with your phone again for a bit, you look up and see the man starting to walk out the bathroom doorway, already with his things together.

“okay, it should be good now, but let me know tomorrow if there’s any issues,” he says. you nod to him and lead him to the front door. you open the door and he walks out, but turns to you before he leaves. “so, i’ll see you tomorrow?” he has a smile on his face, with a hint of something behind it that you can’t quite read.

“yeah, tomorrow,” you say.

after locking the door behind him, you slump onto the couch with a big sigh. that was somehow the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever experienced. you remember he texted himself on your phone, so you open your messages and see the unsaved number.

sent 12:28 pm this is san :)

you can feel heat rising to your cheeks. even a stupid smiley face in a text has got you kicking your feet. you text him back, telling him your name and a quick thank you.

dear lord. this man didn’t even do anything, but he will be the death of you.

you come home early the next day, even earlier than you mentioned. partly because you wanted to clean up your place a bit, but the other part to mentally prepare yourself for a hot man in your apartment again. you clean up your room, tidying up so it looks a tad better than it did the day prior. once you’re done, you find yourself fixing up your makeup, realizing you’re putting way too much effort into seeing a fucking handyman fix your a/c.

are you really doing this? intentionally getting dolled up for this?? haha never! right….?

you hear a knock at your door and jump up. you check yourself in the mirror one last time, fixing the gloss on your lips. you go to open the door to reveal san, standing in front of you again with a familiar sweet smile on his face. you smile back too eagerly.

“i got your window unit!” he says, nodding down to the large box in his hands.

“oh, come in, that must be heavy!” you say, ushering him into your living room.

“mind if i go in your room?” he asks.

“of course, please,” you say, opening your bedroom door and letting him set the box down. you attempt to subtly watch his arms flex as he drops it. oh my god he is so hot.

you retreat to the living room as usual, allowing him to work in peace. you work on some things on your laptop to pass the time, but the thought of this man working on your a/c, muscles protruding, sweat glistening… it’s all too much of a distraction. you decide to put your ear buds in, trying to drown out your own perverse thoughts. you finally are able to hone in on your work, catching up on the things you couldn’t finish during your shift today since you left early.

you don’t realize that san finished installing the window unit until you feel a hand on your shoulder, making you jump.

“oh!” you stammer, pulling an ear bud out. “sorry, what’s up?”

san has a smile creeping on his face. “my bad, i didn’t mean to scare you. i just wanted to let you know i finished putting in the unit.”

“that’s great, thank you so much,” you say, standing up. “did you get the dishwasher today too?”

“yeah i did,” he says, but then he checks his phone for the time. you realize it’s about to hit 5 pm, and he said he’s off by that time.

“you’re almost off, i forgot,” you say apologetically. “you can just come back another day?”

he checks his phone again, contemplating. “well… i mean i already have it in my truck, so i don’t mind working a little bit over my time.”

“you really don’t have to, san,” you plead.

“it’s okay,” he says. “i’ll be right back with it!”

he exits your apartment, giving you a moment to kick yourself. having a dishwasher that works would be so great right now, but you feel guilty for having him work past his time. another part of you wants him to go anyway, if it meant he would come back again.

you hear a loud noise outside your front door, so you open it to see san with the new dishwasher on a dolly. you hold the door open for him, allowing him to enter your apartment and bee-line to the kitchen. he props the dolly down to drop the box.

“i should be able to finish this in about an hour, is that okay?” he asks, already unboxing it.

“as long as you’re okay with working this late,” you shrug.

“i don’t mind at all,” he smiles, looking up at you.

“okay, i’ll just be in here,” you point behind you, gesturing to the living room.

“alright, dishwasher is done,” san says, walking into the living room with a broken down empty box in one hand and dolly in the other.

“thank you so much,” you smile.

“is there anything else you need then?” he inquires, quirking up an eyebrow.

a moment of silence washes over the room momentarily, with you wracking your brain trying to find a reason for him to stay longer. but you push that away, knowing he’s been working way too long past his scheduled time.

“no, i think that will do it,” you sigh, unintentionally sounding disappointed.

“well,” he mumbles, toying with the box in his hand. “well you have my number, so if you need anything, feel free to shoot me a text.”

you walk him to the door, thanking him. he stands out in the hallway, you looking at him out your front door.

“really though,” he insists. “if you need anything.” with one last sweet smile, he leaves.

so what does he mean by that? “anything.” maybe you’re delusional for thinking there’s a hidden meaning behind that statement. as in, you can text him if you want him to fuck your brains out, “anything?” definitely not, but your mind wanders at the thought of it; that he’d drop everything and book it back to your apartment, heaving and sweaty, ready to take what’s his. you’re actually fucking crazy.

and to make yourself even crazier, the next few days you find yourself itching to get another reason to have him come back. you check your kitchen sink’s water pressure, it’s fine. you test out the stove for the first time and it cooked your food perfectly, no gas smell. then you find something. one of your kitchen drawers won’t close completely. it’s something small, but enough to put in a maintenance request. for the first time since you moved in, you feel grateful you live in a shitty apartment.

you swing the door open, happy to see the cute grin san always gives you the moment he sees you.

“sooo… a drawer, huh?” he quips with a hint of a teasing tone.

“y-yeah, i tried to fix it but i don’t know what i’m doing wrong,” you defend, rubbing the back of your neck.

“i can fix that,” he says, passing into the kitchen, tool box in hand. you’re ready to retreat to your living room as usual, but san stops you. “you know, you don’t have to wait around in your living room for me to finish. i like having company.”

“oh,” you mumble, turning around. “i thought you might want privacy while you work.”

“no, it’s okay,” he says, opening his tool box to grab a few items. “if you wanted, you can hang around. i like learning about the tenants i’m working for.”

“okay,” you murmur. you open a kitchen cabinet to grab two mugs. “do you want some tea?”

“i would love some tea,” he says.

you put the kettle on the stove, heating up some water. you chat with san about work, how many units he has to visit in a day, about the interesting tenants he meets, how long he’s been doing this. once the kettle starts whistling, san is already finished fixing the drawer, placing it back into it’s assigned slot. you can’t help but feel disappointed that your time with him is almost up. you put the tea bags in the mugs of hot water, offering one to san.

“i know you’re done, but if you still want it,” you say, and he accepts the drink with a grin. you both sit at your kitchen table, continuing to chat. your cat leo enters the kitchen, going to straight to san’s legs to rub against him.

“there’s my boy,” san coos, scratching leo’s head.

“i still can’t get over how much he likes you,” you laugh. “he’s never this friendly, he’s only like this with me.”

“he seems friendly to me,” san says. “maybe he just has good taste in people.”

you chuckle, wondering in the back of your mind if he meant that about you too.

san checks his phone, realizing the time. he sets down his tea and stands. “i should probably get out of here, there’s another tenant waiting for me.”

“i didn’t mean to keep you—”

“no no,” san interrupts. “it’s okay. i really liked this. not a lot of people are this welcoming.”

“of course,” you reply, standing up with him. “i—i really liked this too.”

san smiles, biting a bit at his lip. you look at each other for a moment, feeling an intriguing tension in the air. he finally shakes head, going to grab his things to go. you walk him to your front door. you say another thank you, about to close the door.

“like i said,” he repeats, leaning against the door frame. “anything.”

you hadn’t seen san in over a week. it was driving you mad. you became addicted to his energy, to his warm greeting at your front door, to the lingering gazes you shared. you didn’t have any reason to see him again, and you needed to find another. so you did something you’re not entirely proud of… something that an actual crazy person would do. you loosened a bolt on a pipe under your kitchen sink, allowing water to trickle the smallest amount in the lower cabinet.

listen. you know it’s bizarre at this point, but you had to see him again. it’s not like anything would happen; he’d probably just fix it up, have another nice chat with you, and be on his way. is it so bad that you meddled with your sink just to see him?

when san arrives, he has that all-knowing grin on his face the moment you open the door.

“the sink now, hm?” he asks.

“yeah,” you chuckle anxiously. “the sink.”

he goes to the kitchen and inspects the pipes under the sink. you lean against the counter, hoping to god he doesn’t notice that the pipe didn’t magically get loose.

“ah i see,” he laughs to himself. “it’s just a loose bolt. easy fix.” he tightens it with his tools, quickly finishing.

“oh, haha,” you say, nerves bubbling in your stomach. “i guess i could’ve done that.”

“you know, it’s so interesting…” he trails off, standing up to face you, running a hand through his hair.

“what?” you ask.

“i’ve never had to do so much maintenance work for one tenant before,” he says, sly grin across his face. fuck. do you think he knows?

“and i swear, that bolt kinda looked like it was loosened by a wrench…” he trails off again, stepping closer to you. HE KNOWS.

“n-no, i would never,” you defend, feeling backed against the counter.

your eyes are locked on san, wandering over his built frame, over his sharp features. he’s inching closer and closer, and you feel your breath hitch. he catches your trailing eyes as if to ask for permission, and leans in to kiss you.

finally, the thing you’ve been wanting so bad from him, to feel his lips against yours. he cups your cheek with one hand, letting you melt into his touch. your lips part to allow his tongue to slide in, deepening the kiss with fervor. his form pushes against yours, pressing you against the kitchen counter. his hands begin to wander, grazing from the side of your face down to your waist. he holds you in a tight grip, pulling your hips forward to meet his. you can feel him harden in his jeans as he lets out a groan against your lips.

“you did this on purpose, hm?” san says, separating from your lips. he lifts you up and places you to sit on the kitchen counter in one swift motion. he kneels to the floor, grabbing at the waist of your pants. “just to see me?”

you nod emphatically, watching as he pulls down your pants and underwear. the cold air hits your core and you try to close your legs, but san pushes them back open to admire you. putting your legs over his shoulders, he runs his fingers against your folds, eyes drinking in the sight of you. you shudder at the feeling, knowing all too well that he’s already got you soaked.

“you like seeing me like this?” he whispers, looking up at you. “i bet you imagined me like this, between your legs.” when his fingertips graze over your clit, your body lets out a shake, and he knows he found what he wanted.

he attaches his mouth to your core and places a firm hold on your outer thighs. licking stripes up to your clit, each stroke of his tongue feels like heaven. he dips down to your hole, dragging your slick upwards. he moans at the taste of you, devouring at you with more passion. your hands grasp at his hair, relishing the stimulation.

he tugs his head back, looking as pussy-drunk as ever. “i imagined you like this too,” he moans, lips still hovering over you. you unintentionally tug at his hair, yearning for his mouth back on you. “i wanted you so bad the moment i saw you.”

he releases a hand off your thigh and snakes it back between your legs, teasing at your hole as he goes back to circle his tongue around your clit. he looks up at you as he slides his middle finger in, watching you crumble at the feeling. once he can tell you’re comfortable, he slides in another, slowly starting to pump them into you. you whimper at the feeling, walls contracting around his fingers.

your moans are uncontrollable, and he matches them, letting the vibrations enhance the stimulation. he curls his fingers into you, hitting that perfect spot. he can feel your core clenching more erratically, causing him to pick up the pace, but maintaining a steady rhythm. his tongue flicks at your clit just right, making you squeeze your eyes shut and tighten the grip on his hair.

“s-san,” you let out. “i’m gonna cum.”

he detaches from you briefly, still finger fucking you. “cum for me, baby, i want to taste you.” he immediately latches back onto you, eating you like his life depends on it.

you feel a wave of pleasure wash over your body, feeling like chills. you’re shaking now, unable to control the sheer amount of bliss your body is experiencing. you moan out to san, coming undone on his tongue. he continues to work at you, allowing you to ride out the entirety of your orgasm.

he finally disconnects from you, pulling out his fingers coated in your essence. he licks them clean, looking up at you with the same look of desire. he stands up, promptly placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. you can taste yourself on his fucked-out lips, and it makes it that much hotter. you can hear him fumbling with his belt, and your hands reach down to help. you place your palm over his bulge, it twitching at the contact.

san separates from you, letting out a heavy sigh. he pulls himself out from his underwear, rubbing the tip at your spent pussy. he looks down and lets a string of his spit hit his throbbing cock, spreading it around the expanse of it with his hand. he angles himself into you, and slowly starts pushing in. you gasp at the size, him stretching you out much more than his fingers initially did. he takes it slow, acknowledging the whimpers leaving your lips.

once he’s fully inside, he groans. “god, you’re so fucking tight.”

he watches himself enter you as he starts rolling his hips into you. he places a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you towards him for a messy kiss. he starts to pick up his pace, earning a sharp hiss on his lips in between kisses.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs to you. “i knew you would feel good.”

you moan in response, completely unable to form any words. all you know is that the stretch of his cock is deliciously painful, and the sweet kisses he’s peppering over your neck gives you goosebumps all over. you can’t even believe this is happening right now, that your fantasy of fucking your maintenance man is coming true, and it feels even better than you imagined.

“you wanted this so bad,” san teases, continuing to piston into you. “for me to fuck you like this. you probably imagined it, touching yourself the moment i left.”

and he’s right, you found yourself needy and horny after every visit he made. you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing your vibrator and pretending he was the one fucking you, not yourself. but the feeling of the real thing was much different, much more euphoric. to have his chest heaving in front of you, sweat beading on his temple, desperate energy emanating from his body, saying i want to have all of you.

suddenly, he lifts you from the kitchen counter, holding your thighs firmly with his cock still in you. something about the fact that he can completely hold you up, still bouncing you on him even… you feel like his little play toy that he’s throwing around. he takes you to the bedroom, dropping you down on your bed and landing on top of you.

he wastes no time in sliding back into you, desperate to continue feeling your tight walls around him. his body is hovering over yours, your legs tangled as he thrusts into you. he pecks around your neck, hand ghosting over your throat as if seeking permission. you place your hand over his, allowing him to choke you until you’re lost in a euphoric haze.

his thrusts become more intense and forceful, each stroke sending chills down your spine as his length reaches deeper inside you. you swear you’re shaking the whole bed, the headboard repeatedly slamming against the wall. you’re so clouded by pleasure that you barely even notice he’s fucking you so hard that he’s pushing a dent into the wall from your bed frame.

“i can fix that,” san whispers with a smile, not even bothering to stop.

you let out a chuckle, then press a soft kiss to his lips. his hips begin to slow, as though he’s really taking his time to melt into you, to feel every part of you. he then lifts up to hit a new angle inside you, gripping your waist and slamming your hips into his with powerful, deliberate motions. you move your hand to your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his throbbing cock. your vision blurs, tears starting to well up in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me?” san asks, sensing the irregular pulsing of your core. you nod up at him, eyebrows furrowed and lip caught between your teeth. “cum on my cock, baby, let me feel you.”

your orgasm builds to a peak and then cascades over you, sending you into a state of pure bliss. san is still fucking into you, extending your orgasm while still chasing his own. it’s not until his hips begin to falter that you feel him shoot ropes of his cum into you, filling you completely. his moans echo yours, his hips gradually slowing until he finally comes to a stop.

he pulls out of you, falling next to you on the bed. the room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing as it gradually returns to a normal pace. you look at each other, smiling with a shared understanding of the unexpected moment you just experienced. he wraps his arm around you, drawing your head to his chest to where you can hear his heartbeat.

“sooo…” you chuckle softly, pointing at the dent in your wall. “you’re gonna fix that, right?”

san grins, pulling you closer. “i mean, i can, but then i’d have no reason to come back tomorrow.”

“now that i think of it,” you say, chuckling. “i think there’s probably a few more things that could be fixed…”

“anything you need,” he says. “anything.”

a/n: guys this was so fun to write, i hope u enjoyed it too!! something about san lately oml... plz leave feeback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

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[pinkie-quinns]

(posting some old twitter threads here for posterity's sake)

Chrissy and Eddie breakup. She's a lesbian, apparently. Has finally come to terms with it. It's half a decade of Eddie's life in the dust. He... he doesn't exactly handle it well.

But Steve's there for him, offers Eddie a shoulder to cry on.

They’re drunk when Eddie says no one’s ever been in love with him. Not really. So Steve kisses him.

But Eddie’s straight.

He always has been.

He freaks the fuck out. Bolts. Lets the calls go to voicemail. He’d lost his partner and one of his best friends in the span of a week and it’s not fair and he’s pissed off beyond belief at Steve for doing it. 

But he’s also confused. And he also can’t stop thinking about it. 

He stews on it for weeks. Avoids mutual friends like the plague. The band lets people know he’s alive, apparently. Between losing Chrissy and Steve, he feels like there are chunks of him missing. So he gets drunk. Hooks up with blondes who kiss him all wrong. 

He’s five whiskeys deep and when he finds himself banging at Steve’s door. Steve answers with his hair mussed and his voice sleep-rough. And Eddie tells him he’s really fucking pissed at him. And Steve apologizes again. And it should be enough but it’s just fucking not. 

So Steve apologizes again and again and again, all blubbery and guilt-ridden. It's only making Eddie more angry. And he doesn’t know why. And he’s too drunk for this shit.

So he shoves Steve against the door and kisses him stupid. 

He wakes up in his own bed the next morning and he's sure he dreamt it. (He’s been dreaming it a lot lately.) But his lips are all stubble-scrapped and his mouth is cotton but he remembers how his friend's tongue tasted and he just.. Wants to cry.

Cause he’s not gay. He’s not. Other people are. Most of his friends are. And he’s fine with that! He’s been a good ally.

Well, maybe not to Chrissy. But only cause it broke his goddamn heart. Only cause he loved her so much. Only cause he'd never felt that way about anyone before or anyone since.

Except well— Fuck. Shit fucking fuck.

So he calls her. He’s kind of hoping it’ll ring through but she picks up straight away, lets out a soft little hey. And it breaks his heart all over again to hear her voice. But he takes a breath and says, “I kissed Steve.”

And she pauses. “You kissed Steve?"

And then he says, “Well, he kissed me first. But yeah. I got drunk. Jeez Chris, I got wasted. And then I— yeah, I kissed him.”

And she's quiet for a long time, just soft breathing and static. Then she says, “Thank you for telling me, Eddie.”

And oh. That’s what it was, wasn’t it?

So they talk about it. All of it. And he really listens to her this time. He couldn’t the last time, couldn’t hear over the sound of his heart fuckin’ shattering. Then he’s the one blubbering apologies cause his girl was going through all this shit totally alone and he is now way too familiar with how bad it sucks.

And then they talk about It. The big It. All the stuff her mama drilled into her brain since she was in diapers. All the names that got spat at him between hall shoves. Shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be wrong, shit they couldn’t be 'cause then they’d be right. 

And when they’re done and the conversation turns into How’s the band? and Is Marcel still driving you crazy? Eddie feels ten pounds lighter, almost whole again. Like he was but better, all glued together in gold. Well, almost altogether.

He really needs to talk to Steve. 

He knocks on his door again that night. This time not at 1 AM, this time sober and remarkably dehydrated.

And Steve answers. This time put together, this time hair done and voice in its day pitch (Eddie kinda misses the sleep rasp). And he looks.. fuck. He looks perfect, doesn’t he?

Eddie’s spent all day mulling this conversation over. But standing here now he’s coming up blank. He mutters, “I- I was an asshole.”

Steve opens his mouth but Eddie just trucks on.

“–you were an asshole too, man. But me, uh, probably more?” 

And he ignores the way his stupid traitor eyes start to water, always do when the moment feels too big. “–Sorry about that. Sorry that I freaked, sorry that I was pissed at you for the shit I was just pissed at myself for. Sorry for, uh. Yelling at you. Sorry, um. Yeah. Sorry for kissing you. That definitely wasn’t cool. It’s been uh... a confusing month. Shit. I’m so sorry Steve.”

Steve just leans against the door. Normally he wore everything on his face. Couldn't win Texas Hold 'Em to save his life. Not now though. Now it feels like Steve could have a sleeve full of aces and Eddie wouldn’t know a thing.

But then he says “Eddie” so quiet it sounds like he hadn't even meant to. Like it just slipped onto his tongue.

Eddie can’t do anything but blink, “Yeah?”

“Let me um-” Steve swallows, “Let me get this straight. Where’d you land?”

God, this shit was humiliating, “Not that. Straight. Not straight.”

“Ok. Cool.”

“Yup.”

“And me–” Steve scratches at the back of his neck, “where did you land on me?”

Eddie feels like he’s gonna explode. But he can’t bolt. Not again. Even though every bone in his body wants to. So he plants his feet, coughs, “Well, I pretty much assaulted you, didn’t I?”

Steve rolls his eyes, snarks a laugh. “Sure. Yeah. I’ve been totally gone on you since, I dunno, forever. You were straight. You were basically married to your high school sweetheart. All it took was one of those things no longer being true for me to totally nosedive. But sure, you threw yourself at me.”

This was. It was a lot. 

“Steve–”

Steve waves a hand, stops him. “‘No one’s ever been in love with you. Not really.’ That’s what you said, dude. Meanwhile, shit, cards on the table here? Every relationship I’ve had in the last five years has been a pointless attempt to get over you. So yeah, it was weird to hear, Eddie.” 

Steve won’t look him in the eye. His neck is craned towards the ceiling.

Eddie whistles through his teeth, “Maybe, uh… maybe give me a bit more time?”

“Oh.” Steve finally glances up. His poker face is all gone. He looks like a kicked puppy. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“I’ll probably just need a week or two? I mean, fuck man, that’s a whole other, like Phylum of pornography I’ve been missing out on for the last 25 years. I gotta get myself acquainted before I can, you know–” He reaches out, rubs at Steve’s bicep with a wink, “Get myself Acquainted.”

Steve’s whole body is shaking. Eddie can feel the relief flitting out of him. “Jesus Christ, Munson.”

“Then I’ll take you out, Harrington! Show you the town.”

“Dude, will your dick even work at that point?”

“On the first date?” Eddie gasps, “Lord Harrington, how improper!”

Steve just shrugs, “Rules are different for guys.”

“What? Wait seven years and then hope you land a sexuality crisis?” Then Eddie’s leaning in, closing the space between them. Trying to ignore the pounding in his chest, thinks maybe he's never been so terrified. 

Steve smiles into the kiss. “Yeah, Munson. It's something like that.” 

[vivwritesfics]

hello vivi!

would it be ok if you did a norlestappen or a lando and max poly - I really don't mind what kind just maybe not angst - I would love some fluff though! thank - you so much :)

i call this sleepies

"Where are they?" Max asked Charles.

They were supposed to meet outside of the McLaren garage so that the three of them could leave together. Max was there first, always the first to want to leave and Charles was there just after him.

But she and Lando were nowhere to be seen.

"Do you think they're still inside?" Charles asked, nodding his head towards the garage.

"They have to be," Max answered, pulling his phone from his pocket. He dialled Lando's number and pressed his phone to his ear.

He didn't know that Lando was asleep. He didn't know that Lando was so deep in sleep that nothing was going to wake him up. He didn't know that she was with him, too, curled up against him as they slept in the two small chair.

When he didn't respond, Max put his phone down. "Nothing," he said, shaking his head.

Charles already had his phone out, already had it pressed to his ear. He looked at Max as he waited for the person on the other end to pick up. But they didn't and he put the phone down. "She didn't pick up, either."

They looked towards the McLaren garage. The den of papaya (instead of den of vipers, get it?). They had no choice but to go inside.

The two non McLaren drivers sucked in a breath and headed inside. They asked all of the McLaren staff if they had seen their loves. The first few they asked shook their heads. They had no idea where to find Lando and their girl.

But then someone had an answer. "I saw them sleeping on the couch," she said and quite literally pointed them in the right direction.

And that was where they found them, sleeping on the couch. Lando was upright and she was on his lap. Her head was against his chest and his head was against her own. Her hand was gripping his shirt, curled into fists.

"Look at them," Charles said, wearing a small smile as he sighed. "They're just..."

"Adorable, I know," Max answered. His arm was around Charles's waist as they looked at the pair. "But his back is gonna kill for the race tomorrow."

"Meaning an easier win for the both of us," Charles reasoned. "But we love them and we don't want him to get a bad back."

"We're definitely not just moving them because we want to cuddle them," Max said with a nod.

"Nope, this is for them."

"Not our selfish reasons."

Max picked her up. He kissed her head and scooped her into his arms. Her head was immediately against his chest and she let out a whine, but she didn't wake up.

Charles tried to pick up Lando. The most important word in that sentence was tried. Because he definitely failed. He almost immediately dropped Lando, waking the poor boy. "Fuck, cha!" He cried.

"Lando!" Charles hissed and held his finger to his lips.

Lando glared at him, but then he looked past him, at the girl sleeping in Lando's arms. She stirred and everybody stilled. But, when she didn't wake up, they let out a collective breath. "Should we get her home?" He whispered as Charles helped him off the floor.

"We were thinking the exact same thing, baby boy."

[lnfours]

all mine | l.n

summary: friends with benefits situations are all fun and games until someone starts catching feelings.

warnings: language, sexual themes, fluff, kinda fwb!au, college student!reader, idk this kinda sucks

masterlist | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

the two of you had been up for an hour or so, way before the sun had started to rise and shine in through the windows of his bedroom. the same sun that lit up the boy in front of you so perfectly that he almost looked angelic. the way his eyes shone in the lighting, the mix of blue and green suddenly entrancing you as he hovered over you.

your hands came up to run through his messy curls. you smiled softly at the fact that the soft tangles were your doing, beings your hands were just buried in his hair a few moments prior. then, your mind wandered and thought how you could live the rest of your life contently if it meant you would be waking up next to him every morning.

he moved his head to the crook of your neck, placing kisses along the skin as you tilted your head to give him more access to the area. yeah, you could get used to this every morning.

you knew he’d never think the same way, especially when you were the one who made it very clear that it was a no strings attached situation. he’d never feel the same way because even you weren’t supposed to feel this way.

however, as he moved to rest his chin on your chest so he could look up at you, it was all you could think about. and he could tell the gears in your head were turning when your smiled softly faded, eyes still locked on his.

he cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow slightly raised as he looked over your facial features, “you okay?”

you blinked, nodding and smiling softly, shaking your head in efforts to get the thoughts to dissipate, “hmm? yeah, sorry, just kind of zoned out for a second.”

he knew you better than that, shifting as he moved to lay next to you, head resting on his palm, “i know that look, you’ve got something on your mind. sure you don’t want to talk?”

it wasn’t fair. he was so kind, gentle, caring, all of it. and you couldn’t even call him yours.

you nodded, “yeah. thanks, though.”

he hummed, reaching over and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. you held a mental debate with yourself on if you should stay and bask in the warmth and comfort of not only the boy next to you, but the way too comfortable bed you were laying in.

“wanna make breakfast, or go get something or whatever?”

mind made up: go before you slowly start entering the hole you were slowly but surely digging for yourself.

you threw the comfort off your body, wincing slightly at the cold air around you. god, this is so hard. it shouldn’t be this hard.

“‘m gonna go, actually,” you said, grabbing your clothes from last night off the floor, shoving some things back in the overnight bag you happily packed after classes yesterday, “‘ve got some homework.”

he tried to mask his frown, knowing he shouldn’t be upset about the fact that you didn’t want to stay. you probably shouldn’t anyway, but he really wanted you to.

there was nothing lando loved more in the world than you and your company. was it worth breaking the agreement? worth losing a friend and someone he could talk to? maybe, maybe not. he knew what he wanted, and it was you. however, he couldn’t quite put a finger on what you wanted.

he had even wondered if he was the one you’d think about at night when you couldn’t sleep, staring up at the ceiling. because you were the one he’d always manage to think about. it was always you.

you were slipping on your shoes when he came back to reality, “i’ll drive you home.”

you nodded, watching as he got up from the bed and grabbed the hoodie that sat on the floor. the same one he wore last night, the one you were desperately pulling him closer by after a few episodes of the show the two of you had started last week.

he tugged on a pair of sneakers, grabbing his phone and wallet before leading you through his house. you trailed behind him, really not wanting to go back to the house you shared with your roommates, but you had to. if you stayed here any longer, every single line you both had made clear a few months prior would be crossed. a friendship would be jeopardized.

simply, the thought of ruining everything wasn’t worth it. was it?

he grabbed the keys to the mclaren sitting in his driveway, “do you have everything?”

you patted the pocket on your hoodie, feeling your phone and taking a glimpse inside your bag, “looks like it.”

he nodded as the two of you walked out of the house. he opened the door for you, just like always did, closing it behind you. he climbed in on the drivers side, starting the engine.

“you sure you’re not hungry or anything? don’t want a coffee or a tea?”

you looked over at the boy next to you, smiling softly and shaking your head, “‘m okay, thanks though.”

he nodded, pulling out of the driveway and handing you his phone to play music. you started playing the playlist you had made on his spotify account, a mixture of both of your favorite songs.

however, the music you were playing wasn’t even being paid attention to as you both were in deep thought the whole drive. both thinking about the other and how you both desperately wished things could be different. how you were both feeling the same way towards each other, just the other was too scared to admit it first.

he pulled up in front of the house, a soft sigh leaving your lips. partially out of relief because you were home and you could work on the work you’d been stressing about all week, but partially out of disappointment.

“want me to walk you up?”

you grabbed your bag, shaking your head, “no, ‘s okay,” you smiled softly, “thanks for, erm…”

you trailed off when your eyes met his. he laughed, noticing the slight blush rising to your cheeks, “don’t have to thank me.”

you nodded, “right, sorry.”

“don’t have to apologize either,” he smiled, “i’ll uhm… see you later?”

you nodded, desperately wanting to lean over and kiss his cheek, like you normally would’ve. but you knew if you did, you would eventually start kissing his lips and you’d never stop.

“yeah, i’ll see you later.”

you opened the door, climbing out and shutting the door before walking up to the house. he watched you make your way up to the door, fishing for your keys in the mess of the bag. you put the key in and turned around, sending him a small wave.

he waved back, pulling away once you walked inside the house and shut the door. you let out a breath, leaning against the wood for support and running a hand over your face. after giving yourself a second, you made your way into the living room.

“oh my god,“ the brunette, sarah, said with a teasing smile, “you’re able to walk after a night at lando’s? what a miracle.”

you flipped her off, causing the blonde, ashley, to snort from her place on the couch. you hung your bag on the barstool, sitting down and grabbing the bowl of cereal from sarah.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she mumbled, throwing her hands up in the air, “i wasn’t eating that.”

you gave her a look, shoving a spoonful of cereal in your mouth.

“you’re awfully quiet,” ashley said, entering the kitchen now as she stood at the coffee maker, “you alright?”

you were silent for a minute, both your roommates looking at you with concerned looks before you spoke up, “i don’t know.”

they both had the same expression, eyebrows raised, “what do you mean?”

you dropped your head onto your arm as you groaned. the two girls looked at each other confused before ashley questioned you, “y/n? what’s going on?”

“i like him.” you said sitting up.

sarah rolled her eyes, pulling the bowl of cereal back towards her, “well, yeah, tell us something we don’t know.”

“no, i mean,” you huffed, “i like like him.”

“okay,” ashley said into her coffee cup, “and what about that?”

“i can’t!”

“what do you mean you ‘can’t like him’?” sarah said, mouthful of cereal.

“i can’t like him because if i like him, it’ll be breaking the rules. and he’ll never like me back because of ‘em,” you said, “i wish i never came up with them in the first place.”

sarah snorted, “hold on,“ placing the spoon in the now empty bowl, “you think he doesn’t like you back?”

“i don’t just think, i know.”

ashley looked over at sarah and the two girls snickered. you gave them confusing looks.

“what? what’s so funny?”

“y/n, i love you,” ashley said, “but you’re an idiot.”

“it’s a good thing you’re really pretty because you’re completely oblivious.” sarah agreed. you sent them both confusing looks.

“what’re you talking about?”

“y/n, come on!” ashley laughed, “open your eyes! this man doesn’t like you, he’s in love with you.”

you gave them blank stares before you shook your head, “no, there’s absolutely no way-“

“think about it,” sarah said, “would he show up and bring you flowers every time you two go out? would he stop by and bring you a coffee, or a tea, or something to eat, which he’s literally memorized the orders for by the way, every time you’re studying? he knows you well enough to know that if you’re focused hard enough, you forget to eat and that you can’t study without some form of caffeine.”

“plus, the way he looks at you,” ashley added, “his face literally lights up every time you enter the room.“

you felt your heart go to your throat, but you somehow managed a croaked out response, “you think?”

“please,” ashley said, “we know. plus, ‘ve asked him.”

you and sarah looked at the blonde, a simultaneous, “you what?” slipping from your mouths.

ashley shrugged, raising her hands in mock defense, “i just wanted to know!”

“what did he say?”

“when did you ask?”

she put her coffee mug down, “it was the other night, he was watching you two laugh and dance at that stupid, lame ass party we went to. he was literally watching you the way they do in movies when they love someone,” she said, “so i asked him, ‘do you like her?’ and he nodded and kind of blushed a little bit before he was like, ‘maybe a bit more than that’.”

“oh my god,” sarah said, looking over at you. you sat there in shock for a minute before looking at your friends.

“what do i do? what do i say?” you asked the two girls looking at you.

“just talk to him, tell him how you feel,” ashley said, “it’s not like anything could go wrong, you already know how he feels.”

she had a point.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

it was evening now, the sun setting through your curtains as you sat at your desk. you hummed along to the music playing through your headphones, scribbling down the rest of the notes you needed for this week.

you tilted your neck to the side, trying to fight through the aching pain in your muscles as you had sat at your desk all day. the music got quieter for a second before a soft ping rang through your headphones.

lando

how’s schoolwork going?

you smiled softly, clicking on the notification before typing back a response.

pretty good, actually. kind of wish i had taken a break to go out to get dinner with the girls.

you went back to your textbook before the woosh came through this time, another text popping up in the messages between the two of you.

have you not eaten today?

you looked at the clock, 8:30pm. well, shit…

guess i was too wrapped up to realize 😅

the bubble appeared on his side of the conversation, another sound playing through after he sent his message.

fancy some dinner company, then?

you smiled again, and if your feet weren’t tucked under your legs, you were sure you’d be probably be kicking them. god, he had you whipped.

as long as you bring something good.

he was quick to respond this time.

be there soon.

and he was a man to his word, showing up to your house almost forty minutes later. he had texted you that he was pulling up so you could open the door for him. once you opened the door, you smiled at the boy who stood with a bag of food in his hand.

“hey,” he smiled back at you. you stepped aside to let him in.

“hey,” you said, the two of you making your way to the kitchen as he set the bag down on the island, “whatcha get?”

you tried peeking in the bag but he pulled it away from you before you could look. you looked up at him as he sent you a teasing smile.

“close your eyes.”

“lando-“

“just close your eyes,” he chuckled back. you huffed, a soft smile on your face nonetheless as you closed your eyes. he pulled the takeout container, placing it in front of you before he fished out his.

“okay, open.”

you glanced down at the counter and your smile got wider. your favorite dish from your favorite restaurant sitting in front of you. your eyes met his as he smiled at you.

“you went all the way across town?”

“yeah,” he shrugged, popping open the lid to his dinner, “that’s what took me so long. sorry about that, by the way.”

you shook your head, “it’s okay,” you said, opening your own container, “i just… thank you.”

you smiled up at him and he swore he’d do the drive a hundred times if it meant you got to look at him like that.

“don’t have to thank me.” he said for the second time that day.

the two of you ate and made some comfortable conversation. most of them being jokes and the other giggling at them. he followed you up the stairs to your room after, the door closing behind him.

you sat down at your desk as he plopped onto your bed, “how much do you have left?”

you hummed, skimming through your notes and checking the check list on your computer, “another page or so,” you glanced over at him, softly wincing from the pain in your neck, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“your neck sore?”

you nodded, digging your fingers in the muscle to try to relieve the pain, “yeah, guess that means i’ve been sitting here too long.”

he got up from his spot before coming up behind you, his hands brushing yours to the side as he dug his finger tips into the aching muscles. you let out a soft sigh, letting him rub away the soreness, “god, that feels good.”

he smiled softly, “‘s it helping?”

you nodded, “yeah, actually.”

he continued for a couple seconds before you turned around to look at him in your chair. you searched his eyes as you tried to read them, but you got too distracted by the color of them to fully assess. he smiled softly down at you, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“what?” he asked, a chuckle following after.

“do you think about that night?” your mouth was moving before your brain could filter it, “the night we made that agreement?”

he shrugged, sitting back down on the bed now, “i mean, kind of, but not all the time.”

“do you regret it?”

he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “why would i regret it?”

you looked down at your hands, “because i do,” his heart dropped, but you immediately snapped your head up, “not like that! not like that at all. god, that’s not the way it was supposed to sound coming out of my mouth.”

you took a deep breath, his facial features becoming unreadable, “then how did you mean it?”

“i mean, i regret giving us these stupid rules,” you said, “like the one where it’s supposed to be ‘no feelings involved’, that sort of thing.”

he sent you a questioning look, his heart skipping a beat with hope, hope that you’d feel the same way, “why?”

“because i may have broken that rule.”

he searched your eyes, immediately his heart jumping up to his throat.

“so did i,” he said.

you smiled at each other from your seats before he was pulling you towards him, mumbling a soft, ‘c’mere,”

you straddled his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as one of his grabbed your waist while the other cupped your cheek. he leaned forward and kissed you softly, your hands finding the curls on the back of his neck.

he was the one to deepen the kiss, his tongue licking at your bottom lip before sucking and nibbling on it softly, knowing exactly how to make you weak. and it was working as you found yourself softly moaning into his mouth. he moved his hand from your hip to your ass, grabbing at it playfully causing you to giggle.

you broke the kiss, “i already knew how you felt, i just wanted to hear you say it.”

he sent you a look, silently asking how you would’ve known before his eyes widened. you laughed softly as he rolled his eyes.

“fucking ashley,” he mumbled against your lips.

no one could wipe the smile off his face even if they tried. you kissed him passionately, pushing back on his chest as he laid back onto the mattress and brought you with him. you hovered over him as you bent down, kissing him again. his hands found their place on your hips yet again, you absentmindedly moving against his hips gently.

he hummed contently against your lips, fingers moving under the hoodie you were wearing, a different one than the one you had on earlier, “is this mine?”

he brushed a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit back a smile, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, “maybe..”

he laughed, shaking his head as he pulled at the bottom hem, helping you out of it, “you look better in it anyway.”

[cherry-leclerc]

purely platonic ☆ ln4

genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst??, secret crushes, just two idiots who can't read the room of what we call 'feeeelingsss', they friendzone each other without knowing they're friendzoning each other BAHA

word count: 3.8k

It goes without saying that you and Lando are like two peas in a pod; always finding something to do. But when things suddenly shift after the summer break, it leaves you two to settle with the idea of one another with a rather doubtful mind.

req!...got this one a long time ago and the request was kind of confusing?? but i tried to make something out of it hahaha enjoyyy??

“Does this top make my boobs look big?”

Lando’s watercolor eyes quirk up, squint, then shakes his head full of curls. “You don’t have much to worry about.”

You muster a dirty glare before prancing over to the mirror, picking up a tube of gloss, laying it onto your plump lips. When you first started working at McLaren, you never truly thought you would end up here, on holidays with a witty British driver, but your friendship had blossomed rather quickly.

Don’t bother—they taste like absolute rubber.

Looking up to face the mysterious voice, you awkwardly choke, dainty hand dropping the last chocolate wafer. 

Have you tried them?

Lando grins widely before reaching out to pick it up and popping it into his mouth. He winks.

Mmm. New recipe or something like that.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” you call out, pulling the baby voice he hates with a strong passion. Rolling his eyes, he kicks his feet against the bed frame, twisting like a pretzel. As long as I don’t get a ransom call, then yes. Go. You’re giddy with excitement; pick up your purse, spray some perfume—probably the entire bottle—and finally peck his cheek, to which he grimaces, instantly pulling away. 

“Make sure to wake me up once you’re back.”

You do. Patting him, you eagerly bounce up and down against the fluffy mattress. “Brazil was a mistake.” His lashes flutter tiredly, skin slightly pink from rubbing his eyelids. Why? Folding your legs beneath your butt, you huff, tangled hair flying towards him. He can almost smell the sea salt that lingers onto your clothes, the scent of aperol spritz. It makes him wonder how many you’ve taken as he props up against his elbows, dark brows drawn together with attentiveness. 

“First of all, I paid for the entire thing.” No, he gasps. You nod, pursing your lips tightly. “I’ve never seen someone so tan turn paper white in a matter of seconds. It was quite fascinating, actually. Sucks,” you ponder, shoulders dropping drastically. “He was stupidly gorgeous too.” 

I hate it when they do that. You laugh, eyes crinkling with true emotions for the first time that night. “He did dance like a pro though, oh God, I could barely keep up.” A lazy arm flies up to massage your neck, wincing as if you’ve just stubbed your toe against a brick wall. “I might have to see a chiro.” Tapping your finger against your chin, you close your eyes. “After all that, he invited me back to his place.”

The Brit sits up straight away, turns on the lamp that sits besides him. “Why are you here then?” he screeches. You curl a brow. The fuck is that supposed to mean? Lando sighs heavily and rubs his temples before flashing you with a pair of stern eyes. “We’re here to have fun, remember? Sex, sex, sex. That’s our priority.” The twenty-four year old relaxes against the comfy pillows. “We made a pact.”

“But I just—” You become visibly green, too grossed out with the idea. “He was handsome—don't get me wrong—a fucking hunk.” He gags. “Probably had a massive dick.” You’re disgusting! A giggle erupts while you wiggle your way underneath the covers. “But I think I need to form an actual connection with someone in order to actually…yeah. A connection.”

It was about five months ago that you got dumped. Constant travels, not enough quality time. Too much work, not enough fucking. Far too lovey dovey eyes batted towards a certain brunette—that’s where you drew the line. You stood up for yourself; for Lando. It had taken you years to gain his trust and now that you had an unbreakable bond, you weren’t going to let the first insecure man make you feel like shit for it. But he didn’t like it, leaving you to cry on someone else’s shoulder. 

For some factor, the Brit felt bad. Perhaps it was his fault—perhaps he did intervene—but he was pissed too. For the way your ex had treated you, for him even considering the twenty-four year old would hit on somebody’s girlfriend. He knew the difference between flirting and a platonic relationship. Yeah. You were better off.

Brazil was great. Summer break was great. One night stands were great. At least he thought so.

Placing his hands over his broad chest, he releases a breath. “That’s actually pretty cute.” A sudden growl slides up your throat as you kick his shin. He scoots further away. “I only suggested because I thought it’d help…”

“Now you know.” A beat. “I can’t keep up with the Sex God.” Loopy eyes flicker over at him. “I’m talking about you, Sex Machine. Sex enthusiast. Can’t keep it in his pants— ”

He gruffs. “Understood.” He steals the blanket away as you squeal, hands flying out to tug it back towards your body. “Loud and clear.”

-

He had a plan to visit as many places as possible, and while that was fun for a while, you reasonably started to miss home. I’m tapping out, you would declare when you got to Bali, enjoying the view with an exhausted state. Last one. But he would somehow, always, convince you. There’d be too much to see. Too much to experience. And you would stay.

It’s only up until Australia where you find yourself taking an actual break. Maybe it was because you were staying at Daniel’s, but you were grateful nonetheless. Days consisted of hikes, rodeos, undercooked steak, wine, and dirt biking. Quite fun—definitely better than being back home feeding your pet fish. Ms. Lockwood has it all taken care of, thank you very much. 

“This is nice,” the Australian murmurs as he bites down on a slice of pizza. “I’m glad you guys made a pitstop.”

Wandering eyes roam the open field, dusty boots kicked up against his car. “Us too.”

Lando clicks his tongue knowingly, tilting his head at you as you hush him. For once in his life, he was glad to have someone around. Oftentimes, there’d be moments where people would assume you two were dating—possibly even married—but it was simply an unhinged friendship. Exactly what he was looking for. Thank God all of that is over now.

“How long have you two been together?” Heidi asks sweetly, leaning against her boyfriend. Mid-sip, you spit, red wine painting Lando’s white tee. Bloody hell, he moans, drying his face with the back of his hand. “Sorry,” you gurgle. “We’re not…” When you gag, the Brit scoffs.

“She’s too immature. You think I would willingly sign up for that?” The couple share a skeptical glance, eyebrows raised to where he hands you a napkin. “Come on, mate, who do you take me for?”

As you both make your way over to the house, Daniel and Heidi settle into a deep conversation. There was not a single doubt within them that you two weren’t meant for one another. It made perfect sense—but why were you both so blinded to the idea? 

“Hmm,” the blond says. “Two months of traveling together? That just doesn’t happen.” Heidi spins on her heel, facing the Australian. “There’s obviously a connection between them.”

-

Men like you are the reason I left Finland. Men like you are the reason I left Finland. A sip of water. Men like you are the reason I left Finla—

“What are you even talking about?” Lando groans from his seat. Peeking over at him, you shrug, and continue mumbling. “For the love of God, must you keep repeating yourself? You’re making a simple twenty minute drive feel like four hours—stop it already.” 

Coldly glaring at him, you pinch your face like a clam and point a narrow finger at him. “Men like you are the reason I left Finland.”

The Brit lets out a scream and jumps towards you, slapping a large hand over your mouth. You squirm for a good minute before biting down, forcing him to pull away with a sudden hiss. “Rascal.”

The view was breathtaking; the white snow, the green trees, the sunlight beaming from afar. His agenda continued and you kept tagging along. You’ve never visited, so everything was a pleasing journey. Staring out the foggy window of the van, you pout, pondering. “You’ve seriously never watched Confessions of a Shopaholic?”

“A Cock-A-Who?”

You laugh. “Not even close. I’m not doing this again.”

You’re sure you get frostbite by the end of the day, but the Northern Lights make up for it. After snapping a couple thousand pictures, you finally settle down on the snow next to him. “Hey.” A white puff exits his mouth, chapped lips. 

“Hey.”

The silence prolongs, then you let out a sore cough, taking a sip of hot chocolate. You can’t help but roll your eyes when you barely get a drop, realizing he had finished it all while you weren't looking. “Out of all the places we’ve been to, this has to be my favorite.” You direct your attention over to him. “Thank you for bringing me along. It means a lot.”

“Ah. Don’t mention it.”

You hum. “I never get bored of you.” You can hear his snowsuit scratch as he shifts to face you, wide eyes admiring the colorful lights. “I keep thinking I might—even just a little bit—but I don’t. It’s weird.”

He chuckles, relaxing. “I’m glad you haven’t. We’ve been traveling for a while now, so if that were the case, then I’d be worried.”

Pursing your lips, you let out a sheepish grin. “You’re like…the Suze to my Rebecca.”

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Finally, you turn to him, taking in his puppy lost state. Specks of snowflakes cling onto his long lashes, the bridge of his nose is beet red, a hint of dried blood coats his overly frozen lips. Patting his shoulder, you let out a light whistle.

“Let’s just say, I never want to leave Finland.”

-

The season picks up once again, and so do the travels. But they’re not the same. Maybe it has to do with the fact that it’s not only you two anymore. Sure, you have your friends, but…it’s not the same. The thought alone is confusing, but you don’t let yourself think about it too long. Running after Oscar, you hand him a black binder. “What's this?”

“Not sure. Zak just wants you to read over it before the meeting.”

Frantically, he skims the white pages, flipping eagerly. You giggle. “I know it looks bad, but it’s not!” The Australian barely has a chance to protest before you skip away, shooting a quick thumbs up. “Take notes!”

Reaching the familiar dressing room, you find yourself gently knocking, foot tapping against the tiles. He swings open with a loopy grin. “Hey.”

“Hey.” A beat. “Meeting in ten minutes. Don’t be late.”

He nods. “Is there anything I should go over?”

You shake your head, extending a singular piece of paper towards the British driver. “As long as you go over these notes, then you’ll do just fine.” You take a step back. “Ten, Lando, ten.”

“Got it.”

You’re the last one entering the crowded conference room, teasing snickers spilling from McLaren colleagues. Zak claps loudly. “Great! Let’s get started.”

You’re bored halfway through, zoned out, doodling onto your notebook. You were aware of everything, so you suppose it didn’t really matter. Gray led slides coolly. A sharp sound rips you away from your daydreaming as you look up, eyes flickering between the three main men.

“I wasn’t aware there was any special treatment.” His accent is laced with humor, brown eyes drifting over to you. You curl a brow at Oscar. 

Zak chuckles. “I wasn’t either.” 

Once the meeting is adjourned, Lando strolls over to where you sprawl onto a row of chairs, blanked out. He swallows a chuckle down. “You alright?”

“What have I done?” You sit up, maniatic eyes dancing . “I’ve never done that before—not intentionally.”

The Brit closes an eye teasingly before releasing. “The notes?”

Leaping up, you march over to him. “Yes, the notes! Since when do I sum up things for your benefit? God, I didn’t even think about Oscar…”

“I’m sure you weren’t thinking straight. We all know you like to help both of us out.”

A queasy feeling flips inside of you as you tilt your head. He was right. You got caught up, made one set of bullet points, and coincidentally gave it to Lando. No further meaning.

“I need coffee.”

-

As soon as you bolted out of McLaren Hospitality, Lando made his way through the paddock. “Norris,” a deep voice calls out. Alex grins widely, jogging closer. 

“Done for the day?”

Alex nods. “What about you?”

“I think so. Had my last meeting. Reckon I should be good.”

The Williams drivers shimmies with a low chuckle. “Why are you still here then?”

The Brit freezes. “I actually don’t know…”

Huh, Alex hums. 

“You’re looking for someone?”

He unfreezes, chest tightening. “I don’t know.”

-

“Hey, hey, watch out.”

“Daniel!” you shriek. He lets out a toothy smile, extending his arm out as a silent greeting, cup of coffee in hand. You rip it away, taking a large chug. “Thank you—gotta to go.”

“Wait.” He reaches for the hem of your shirt, stopping you from slipping away. “Are you okay? You look a bit…” He motions a crazy sign. You glare back at him. 

“I need air, I need air,” you gasp, zigzagging past him. Running after you, he hauls you into the nearest restroom. You screech, panicking. “Air, Daniel, air.”

“What happened?”

Something in his voice tells you he knows. You don’t want him to know. How could anyone know what you don’t even know? No one can know. 

“You’re right—I’m losing my mind.” You step out of his embrace. “Let me out before I kill you.”

Brown eyes stare back in amusement. “You can be honest with me.”

“I’ll scream, Daniel.”

“Be honest with yourself.”

“I’m a black belt. My limits are endless.”

“Just say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say it.”

You close your eyes, groan, and kick the wall. “Shit, I like Lando.”

Heavy pants, desperate huffs. Anticipating eyes, nervous fiddling with your hair. His lack of response makes it all worse. 

Daniel clicks his tongue. “I knew it.”

-

“Want anything?” he asks, gazing up at the wall of foreign treats. Singapore knew what they were doing. Your voice catches, releases, then wave him off. Weird, he thinks to himself, but continues to pay for his own sweets. The way you prance around the small convenient store makes him smile, occasionally making sure you were still there.

“I won’t be going to the next race. Thought you should know.”

It obviously catches him off guard as he spins to face you with a neutral expression. He’s good at hiding things—feelings. 

“I…um…” He coughs. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s my Nana’s birthday.” A beat. “She only has so many left, dude.”

The Brit would love to relax and laugh at your dark humor, but one simple word makes him deflate, nodding along with a sheepish look. He hands you a bag of penguin gummies. “From me, to her.”

The colorful bag crunches against your touch, awkwardly beaming at it, then looking up into his soft stare. “She has diabetes, but thanks.”

-

He realizes just how much he misses you once you jump onto the plane back home. He had been kind enough to offer to drive you to the airport, and you had been rude enough to decline. A weak exchange of words ensued between you two before reluctantly coming to an agreement.

Here is fine!

Blue eyes wander the busy drop off zone; humming with concern. 

Let me help you with your bags, then.

No! Drive safe, Lando. Oh—and make sure to take your vitamins! 

The British driver wonders why he feels different; pacing the room back and forth. Vitamin C is important. He eyes his watch. That’s probably why—he forgot to take them. Or maybe it was his biotin. 

“Mate! You have my charger!” The twenty-four year old gazes at his taking door and makes his way over. Daniel stands with loopy eyes, half shaved mustache. “Bon Iver died mid-For Emma, so you better hurry and give it to me.”

“I have it right here, chill.” The Australian invited himself in, brown orbs flickering carefully through the dark room. He chuckles. 

“Can’t find your birth control?”

Lando cocks his head to the side, recognizing his mess that lies on the floor. The orange bottles make him stutter, briskly pushing the white charger towards his friend. “B6, I’m looking for my—” A nervous hand runs through his messy hair. “Got what you need? Great. Off you go.”

“Ah, ah—hold on a second; is that my girl, Isla Fisher?”

The Brit cackles, remembering about his open computer. “How do you know?”

Daniel plops down. “Confessions of a Shopaholic? Classic. Heidi loves it.”

The brunette hums, finding a spot next to the Aussie. “Who’s Suze?”

“Have you not been paying attention?”

“I’ve been looking for my calcium!”

The thirty-four year old pouts. “I thought it was your R2-D2?”

“Clever.” 

A Tim Burton looking girl comes on-screen, perfect bangs hanging just above her brows. The redhead and black haired duo exchange a small phone back and forth, panic evident. “That’s Suze. She’s Becky’s best friend. They go through a bit of a rough patch, but they come back together, don’t worry.”

“Suze? Rebe…” He pales. “Friends?”

“You thought they were lesbos?”

Lando shakes his head, harshly. “What about Finland?”

“A fantasy land, sort of.” Daniel props up against his elbows. “It’s her getaway from all her debt. It’s real, but it’s not real.” The blue eyed boy’ shoulders droop furthermore as he watches the scene play out.

“Friends…”

Chomping down on a mysterious pill, Daniel shrugs. “Mhm. Just friends.”

-

It’s safe to say that you’re refreshed. You thought things through—you could never speak about your sudden realization. This probably happens all the time, all around the world, nothing to see here. Your feelings were there, but they wouldn’t be your downfall. Not when he mattered this much to you. 

“Read over this. Pay close attention to three and seven—Zak is going to ask you about it.” Lando hums slowly, eyes tracing your beauty. You’re a shade tanner due to your small vacation, if you can call it that, and that somehow tugs at his heart. If he pays close enough attention, then he could point out a few new freckles. “Any questions?”

He blinks. “Zero. Thank you.”

“Just doing my job.”

Something has shifted inside of him, something…new? Every chance he gets, he would peek and admire the way you laugh with a couple of the engineers, with Zak. Then, he would have to pinch and remind himself that he was your friend; nothing more, nothing less.

“Any additional notes? Oscar? Lando?”

Raising your hand timidly, you beam. “If I could suggest one thing, maybe we can keep the floor the same? I know we spoke on how a drastic change can possibly lengthen our kph, but if we actually think about it, then we would be able to see that it’ll only worsen things. It’s perfect, really, where it’s at. What we should be focusing on instead are other areas. Find ways to lighten the car, mark our attention to the aerodynamics.” Red creeps carefully onto your cheeks, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you shrug. “Just a…thought.”

Zak hums, crossing his arms in deep thought. “We could do that…we could definitely do that.” He grins. “Boys?”

“Anything to make us faster, count me in,” Oscar agrees, voice steady.

“We should change it.”

Everyone turns to face the twenty-four year old. Pens glide faster, keys click harder, and you stumble clumsily. “Sorry?”

Lando tsks. “I like what you were saying, but we need to change it in order to stand a chance against the Red Bulls. They’ve cracked the code, and we’re so close. We need to adapt.”

You burn up. “I’m sorry, but I disagree, Lando. Things should stay the same. Same is safe. Change is…” You lick your lips, biting down momentarily. “Not necessary. Not when things are already good where they’re at.”

The British driver hisses. Oscar jumps at the cold sound. “Safe is a pussy move. How will you ever know what could have happened? One thing can flip everything around.” His eyes soften. “A-and put us in front of the grid for good. Good, good.”

Caught in the flame, you grit your teeth together. Who were you to have a say after all? Your attention circles the quiet room before nodding stiffly. “Alrighty then.”

-

“You embarrassed me in front of everyone!”

Lando frantically chases after you, shoes squeaking with every drastic turn. “I was just being honest!”

The sudden speed you turn back to face him with makes him flinch, forced to come to a halt. He can practically see the fumes exiting your body. “But did you have to say it in that tone?”

“What tone? I didn’t have a tone.”

“Yes! Yes, you did!” You continue your march. “Oh, hi! I’m Lando Norris, professional Formula One driver, who knows everything you don’t.”

“I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. You sound worse.” A huff. “Listen, I’m not actually mad, but I do need time to myself, so can you please…” You motion him away and he scoffs. Are you being serious right now? “I am! Leave!”

He sort of replicates a zombie, the way he drags his feet back to hospitality. Was he really ready for any of this? He liked you, a lot, but things like this would eventually stir up in any relationship, and maybe he didn’t have the strength in him to fix things yet. But if you stayed friends, then…yeah. Things would stubbornly fix themselves.

You, on the other hand, have a sudden bounce in your step. A stride. This is what you needed. Suddenly, your stupid little crush wasn’t as important as you had imagined. Fights would bubble between you two if you ever dared cross the invisible line, and you weren’t the biggest fan in facing them. Friends. That’s all this was.

Daniel crosses Lando first, intrigued by his dead-like state. “What’s up with you now?”

The Brit blinks. “I’m no Luke, Danny.” He kicks a rock. “I’m fine, however, being a Suze.”

Son of a bitch, the Australian thinks as he watches his friend stroll away. He actually paid attention. 

Placing his headphones back onto his head, he continues his walk down the paddock, confused. When you make your way with a bright smile, he, too, reciprocates. Your lips move fast, hand gestures flying theatrically, and he can’t hear a single thing. The Alpha Tauri driver snakes his hand to slip them off once again. “Having a g’day?”

“Best,” you beam. “Connection lost.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[heich0e]

"hey."

the bed beside you dips a little as touya nears, crawling under the blankets on his side, but you don't look up from the puzzle book in your hands—you're just about to finish your crossword, and your brain is already feeling sluggish as you fight the call to sleep. instead you hum, so that he knows you heard him.

"are you... have you...." he can't seem to get the words right, and grunts a bit, like he's frustrated with himself. "you worried about aoi?"

that makes you look up.

"no," you reply to him, eyes scanning over his face. "should i be?"

your three year old daughter aoi is the picture of health—or at least, as healthy as children can really be, considering they seem to be magnetic poles towards which germs naturally gravitate. she's a bit bossy, in spite of her age, and has her older brother and papa (and you for that matter) wrapped around her little fingers. but she's a good girl, mostly kind, and exceedingly bright for her age.

you don't have any reason to worry about her.

at least you don't think you do.

at your side, touya's face is lined with frustration; a furrow creasing the centre of his brow, and his lips turned down into a pensive little frown. he has a book in his hands, you notice. his thumb is stuck between the pages as if to mark his place, but you can't see the cover from the way he's holding it.

"touya?" you prod him for more information, setting your own puzzle book aside.

"she sucks her thumb," touya finally says, though he seems reluctant to share that worry with you. when he finally meets your gaze, you see anxiety swimming behind his eyes. "is that normal?"

you laugh lightly in relief, your head hanging slightly as any real fear in you retreats. "yeah, touya. that's normal."

"are you sure?" he insists, "because this book says that kids suck their thumbs to comfort themselves. why would she need comfort?" he holds up the book in his hand, and when he does, you see that it's a parenting book. you've never seen it before, so he must have bought it recently. the image of touya scouring the shelves at your local bookstore for the right title in the childrearing section is remarkably endearing to conjure to mind.

"touya, baby," you push yourself up on your side of the bed, crawling over to him. you ensconce yourself atop his lap, taking his face in your hands. you meet him nose to nose. "put the book down."

"but it says—"

"i know what it says," you don't let him finish. "and it's probably right—kids do lots of things to comfort themselves, and they do need comfort. and maybe thumb sucking well into your developmental years is even bad for you, but aoi is only three. she's still so little. it's perfectly normal for her to suck her thumb occasionally."

touya seems to soften a bit in the wake of your reassurances, but not relax entirely. he leans his face into the cup of your palm, letting you bear the weight.

"look, if it continues on for too long, or gets worse, then we'll talk to the paediatrician. and we'll talk to aoi, too—because if something is bothering her, we'll make sure she knows she can always tell us. but right now, she is just a perfectly normal, happy three year old, who just happens to enjoy sucking her thumb. okay?"

touya's eyes flutter shut, and after a quiet moment you lean forward press a kiss to the spot where a divot of frustration had earlier creased his brow.

"we're doing a good job, touya," you reassure him, brushing some strands of his soft white hair back from his tired face. "you especially."

not a perfect job, because the longer you trek along the path of parenthood, the more you've come to realize it's a fallacy. you know there's no such thing as a perfect parent. you know no one gets it right one hundred percent of the time. but there are lots of parent who are doing their best—who are trying to be better—and you know that you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who's trying harder to do just that than touya.

touya's eyes open once more. the eyes both your children inherited. the blue you named your daughter after. his gaze is soft—vulnerable in ways that once seemed impossible with the man in front of you—as he peers up at you.

"you think so?" he mumbles softly.

"i do," you answer just as gently as he'd asked, before dipping down to kiss him properly this time—not on his forehead but at the centre of his lips.

touya's hands reach for you eagerly, reciprocating your kiss with an equal enthusiasm, and the parenting book slips from his grip and goes tumbling to the floor with a thud!

both of you freeze, pulling apart from your passionate embrace until your lips rest a hairsbreadth away. your breaths are panting. your heartbeats are thundering in your chests. both of your gazes are fixed firmly on your bedroom door.

neither of you move.

"do you think it woke them up?" he whispers after a terrified moment, his tone heavy with anxiety.

"no, i think we're okay," you answer, your voice equally strained.

but still, neither of you dare to move again, still petrified in place, waiting to hear the telltale pitter patter of little feet along the floor.

after a few more tense beats of silence stretch between you in the stillness of your bedroom, a laugh bubbles up from the pit of your stomach and slips through your lips in spite of your best efforts to restrain it. poised frozen halfway up the back of your shirt, touya's hands pull you a little closer, and he chuckles quietly too. you tilt your lips down to meet his again, giggling into the kiss as touya uses his grip on you to reverse your positions and pin you down to the bed underneath him.

"try to be quieter this time," you chirp up at him breathlessly as his hands travel down your body, but you're smiling too widely for the jibe to have any real bite at all. touya rolls his eyes as he dips down into your space, his lips ghosting over yours again in an almost-but-not-quite sort of kiss.

"i'll do my best," he mumbles.

(but you already knew that.)

[nisuna]

Need more yuuji smut!!

So hear me out-

bestfriend!yuuji finding your depressed ass in the park while it's raining and you're soaked. So he takes you home and take care of you and puts you to sleep in jis clothes.

Then wakes you up by eating you out and then .. you know.. the rest of the stuff

Holy shit am I in my angst era? 😭 Yuji is 100% my comfort character, so this was very nice to write. He's so boyfriend oml I love him so much<3 I don't even care if this does well or not. I really needed this, tysm for the idea!!<3

⚠️ If you or anyone you know struggles with their mental health or has thoughts like these, please look up your local s*uic*de prevention hotlines. Everybody deserves to get help, and everyone deserves to live. It might not always be as easy as in my little story, but please look after yourselves, I love you all so much and thank you all for all of the love and support🫶🏻 As someone who's been struggling with their mental health ever since their early teens I can say that I definitely can't speak for everyone on this matter, but maybe some will find comfort and familiarity in this

TW: angst, s*icid*l ideation, mentions of declining mental health, hurt and comfort, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, cream pie, body worship, nipple play, body appreciation, mating press, confession, a lot of crying, this is so dear to my heart, supportive!bff!yuji

~2,8k words~

<3masterlist<3

--------mature themes ;strictly 18+ MDNI-----------

Everything has been fucked lately. Your job sucks, school isn't going great, your social life is almost nonexistent, your family is a mess and you just want some peace and calm. You've been home constantly, but you just can't stand it anymore, which is exactly why you went outside for some fresh air. And as if the universe was giving you the middle finger as well, it started raining. But you just couldn't be bothered anymore. Life sucks and your mental health is declining. So you don't even flinch at the rain hitting your lowered head. You don't care that your clothes are soaked at this point. You just sit there and take it. You've been sitting here for what feels like hours. There has been multiple nosy on lookers that passed by mumbling. Some of them showed concern, but some of them were threw disgusted looks at you and assumed you're some kind of junkie that's loitering around in their peaceful park. You couldn't care less, nobody was actually brave enough to approach you anyway, so you let them talk.

It's getting cold, but you can't bring yourself to move. You're soaked and it's getting dark, but you feel like you have nowhere to go. You're starting to feel numb, your hands and feet are cold and you almost can't feel them anymore. This is actually quite nice, you're neither sad nor mad, you feel empty, but it's not uncomfortable like it usually is. You feel calm, you're not worried. You think that freezing to d*ath might actually be a good way to go. It would be like falling asleep without having to ever wake up again. For the first time in weeks you felt yourself smile. You've made up your mind, nobody will miss you anyway so why bother. But as you were about to lie down, you heard a familiar voice screaming your name.

"What the hell-", you thought to yourself as you sat back up and looked around. You didn't have to wait long before seeing a familiar figure run towards you.

"Y/N!!! Where are-? Oh my god there you are. I looked everywhere for you. What are you doing?", he reached out to grab your shoulders, only for you to flinch away.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?"

"Well, you weren't picking up my calls and I got worried." When you didn't give him an answer, he continued, "Are you alright? Whoa you're soaked and my god you're ice cold c'mon let's get you home. I don't want you to get sick.", he grabbed your hand, trying to get you off that bench. But you didn't budge.

"Y/N? What's wrong c'mon let's go-"

"No, I'm fine, really. Just leave me be."

"What are you even saying? How could I? You are in no condition to be left alone. It's freezing and you're soaked c'mon let's go home-"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE GODDAMN IT!", you screamed and felt tears leave your eyes. Shit. When you reached up to wipe away at your eyes, Yuji stopped you and wiped your tears with his sleeve instead.

"Y/N I don't know what's going on, but please let me help.", he knelt down, squeezing your trembling hands and giving you a warm smile.

"Why do you care so much?", that came out way too wobbly for your liking.

"Why do I care? Y/N, you're my best friend of course I care. How could I not? Look at you."

You were at a loss of words, so he continued. "Is it okay if I touch you more?" Nod. As soon as you gave him the okay he pulled you into a tight hug. It took you a bit to relax, but you eventually gave in and let your emotions run wild. You were shaking, crying loudly in his embrace. All the built-up tension of the past weeks came flooding out, but he was there to catch you. He held you close as you let go. He didn't say a word until you calmed down a bit.

He pulled away to take a look at your puffy face. "Let's go over to mine, hm? What do you say?"

"Fuck it.", you thought as you nodded and got up.

"Want me to carry you?"

"No, that's embarassing. I can walk alright.", you huffed.

"Don't worry, it's late. Nobody will see."

"Okay."

After he wrapped you up in his jacket, you got on his back and let him carry you to his apartment. He's so warm and smells really good. You subconsciously nuzzled your face closer to him. Falling asleep like this would be way nicer than alone. You thought of that as you closed your eyes and hugged him tighter.

Luckily, he only lived a couple blocks away from the park. He was gentle when he set you down as soon as you arrived.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it.", there it was again, his sweet smile. "You should go take a bath before you get sick. I'll lend you some of my clothes." Nod.

------

You felt like a new human being after the warm bath. His clothes were also warm and smelled like him. It was oddly comforting. Has he always smelled this good? Your thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Oh wow, you look better already.", he grinned.

"Yeah", you cracked a smile back at him, "I do feel a lot better. Thanks a lot."

"Of course! Now, what do you want to eat, you must be starving? How long were you out there anyway?"

"All day actually...", you confessed.

His shocked expression made you giggle as he pushed you into his kitchen.

After a good meal he said you could go sleep in his bed. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. But you stopped him. "I don't want to be alone. Can you sleep with me tonight."

"Sure, I thought you needed some space and didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Can we cuddle too?"

"We can do whatever you need."

That's how you found yourself back in his arms for the nth time today. The atmosphere was calm, as you were exchanging occasional remarks while watching something. You don't know what overcame you, but you just felt so safe and taken care of that you leaned in for a kiss. However, you quickly pulled away when you felt him stiffen up and not kiss you back.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. God, I'm so stupid. You probably hated that. Shit, please don't hate me-"

"No, please calm down, it's alright. It's not that I don't like this. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"You're in a very fragile state right now. I don't want you to do something you might regret."

"But I'm sure, I really want this-"

"Sleep it over. Just one night and if you still feel like it tomorrow I'm down. I'm here for you. We can cuddle all you want, though. I just don't want to take advantage of you."

You shot him your biggest pity pout and when that didn't work you gave in. "Alright, alright, I guessss.", you huffed and fell into his embrace. Both of you didn't talk much after that, there was a bit of tension, but you didn't act on it. When you finally drifted off to sleep it was enveloped in his warmth and smell.

You haven't slept this well in a long time. And you definitely haven't been woken up this nicely in a long time, either.

After such a good night's sleep you didn't expect to wake up to your best friend between your thighs, lapping away at your pussy.

"Hi, good morning", he rasped, morning voice heavy. "You just looked so cute wiggling around in my arms and when I checked you were already so wet down there. Sorry, I couldn't resist.", he said while softly kissing up your thigh.

"It's alright, let me wake up first, though ah-", you couldn't finish your sentence, because your head snapped back with a moan, as he dove back between your legs.

"Sorry, but I need this just as bad as you do. You taste so good. God, I've been missing out on this this whole time? Just lay back and let me take care of you."

You couldn't say no. Not that you were able to say anything at all with his skillful tongue and fingers working your cunt open. He made you a whimpering and sensitive mess in a matter of a few seconds.

"Shit, how are you so good?", you let out a drawn-out moan, but didn't get an answer from him. His actions spoke instead of him, as he had you cumming on his tongue soon after. Once he licked you clean he slotted his body between your legs and kissed you nice and deep.

"Mmh", you moaned against his lips, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Tastes good, right?", he grinned.

"Shut up", you playfully hit his chest, grinnig right back at him.

"Alright, my turn.", you smiled, trying to get him to lie down only to be pushed back, as he got on top of you again.

"Nope."

"Hey! Not fair, I wanna taste you, too.", you pouted at him.

"Maybe next time. Today's all about you, I don't want you to lift a single finger. As I said, lay back and let me take care of you."

That was an offer you definitely couldn't refuse. So you gave him a nod and waited for his next move. His next move was a very welcome one, as he finally rid him himself of his shirt. You always knew he was well built from years in the gym and other sports. But seeing him like that up close made you gush. His front was mouth watering, and his arms were to die for. He was huge. You would've rubbed your legs together to ease your pain if he wasn't keeping your legs open with his body between them. You didn't even notice you were staring until he spoke up.

"You're practically drooling."

"Fuck, sorry.", you shrieked looking away.

"Don't sweat it. Oogle me all you want, I dig it.", he smiled, pulling your face back in his direction.

"Can I touch you?"

"What kind of question is that? Go for it!"

His skin's so soft, but the ripples of his abs and chest are brick hard. He let you explore his body before grabbing your hand and giving it a gentle kiss.

"My turn.", he whispered against your fingers before pulling your shirt up and exposing your tits. Your nipples were already hard from all of the stimulation earlier.

"Fuck, they're so pretty.", he whispered, grabbing one in each hand and giving them a hard squeeze.

"Shit.", you moaned, back arching off the bed and pussy rubbing against his hard cock. To make matters worse, he leaned down, licking a thick stripe up your neck and pinching your aching nipples between his fingers.

"Off. Now.", he demanded, already helping you pull the shirt over your head. You were finally fully exposed and he ate it right up. He leaned back down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and massaging your other breast. He made sure to pay equal attention to both. It felt really good, but you were getting impatient, already grinding against his hard crotch.

"Yuuji~~", you moaned at a particularly hard suck. "Don't tease. Pleasee, I need you.", you whined.

"Shit, sorry I got distracted. Wait here, I'm gonna go get the condoms."

Before he could leave you, you stopped him.

"No, wait, please don't. I want to feel you.", you said, already digging your nails in his arms at the mere thought of doing it raw.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive.", you smiled reassuringly.

"Fuck, alright. Got it.", he swore and rid himself of his boxers.

Once again you were staring. He was bigger than you thought. You definitely couldn't wait any longer. You needed him inside of you immediately.

He didn't make you wait long before he started to slowly bottom out. Your moans grew embarassingly louder with each inch that filled you up.

"Shit, you're so tight. Please loosen up, you're gonna kill me."

"Sorry, it just feels so good.", you mewled back arching and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest. "Kiss me, please~~" He immediately obliged, crashing his mouth against yours. It was so raw and messy when your tongues kept mashing together, but it just felt so right.

"I'm gonna start moving now. I'm gonna fuck you so good."

You nodded and pleaded. Your wish was his command, so he finally picked up his pace. And god, was he good with his hips. With each thrust and shift of your legs, he kept hitting you deeper and deeper until you practically saw stars. It's so cliché, but you felt like you were in heaven.

Your nails kept grazing his broad back and shoulders, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you held back. As if he had read your mind, he leaned down and whispered against your ear.

"Do it. Mark me up, it doesn't hurt. Please don't hold back."

So you didn't hold back anymore. You let your emotions run wild, exploring his body with your hands. Shyness long forgotten, as you left long red streaks all over his back, occasionally pulling him down for a kiss.

The world stood still. You never noticed before, but he has always been there for you. He was the only person that you ever felt loved by. How had you never noticed. Even if you two never said it out loud before, you loved each other. It had to be love. You felt overwhealmed as his fingers slipped between your bodies and started rubbing thick circles in your sensitive clit. Your breath hitched as the words you kept secret for far too long came tumbling out.

"I love you, Yuji. I love you so much, thank you for always taking care of me. I only have you in my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much. Please never leave me, I need you."

If he was taken aback by your words, he didn't show it. He just pressed his lips against yours and kept rubbing and moving his hips until you came undone. And as you were moaning and arching your back, he finally answered.

"I love you, too. So, so much. I always have. I promise I will never leave. No matter what happens, I got you. Forever.", that's when the dams broke down and tears were spilling from your eyes. You just hugged him close and thanked him.

Not long after, he was reaching his limit as well. So he hoisted your legs over his shoulders and pounded away until he filled you up to the brim. All the while he was kissing your tears away and saying how good you were for him and how well you did.

When his hips finally came to a halt, he gently put your legs down and kissed you again. He was gentle when he pulled out and you winced as you felt his cum drip out of you and onto his sheets.

Immediately after, he pulled you close, hugging you like he was about to lose you and you were able to calm down a bit. But the bad thoughts came back as you whispered against his skin.

"Today was so stressful and you must've been worried sick. What if I have another breakdown. I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to stress you out. I don't want to break your heart if anything happens to me."

"Y/N, look at me.", he begged, hands on your cheeks.

You finally looked back up at him, tears stinging your eyes.

"You're not a burden.", he whispered, giving your forehead a gentle kiss. "I will protect you forever. For as long as I live, I will always be here to catch you. No matter what happens. You're not alone anymore. You don't have to endure everything silently and on your own. I promise, things will get better. I will be here each step of the way. I love you so much, so please don't leave me."

You wanted to believe him, you wanted to get better. Maybe you finally could with his help. It's a big gamble, but you're gonna bet all of your cards on this relationship. After a long pause, you gave him a silent nod and burried your face in his chest, all while he was gently patting and kissing your head.

Life and everyone else might be shit, but at least you got him now. He was worth living for.

--------

If you read this far, thank you so much<3 I hope I can make some lighter and happier content soon, but I'm on a roll right now *sigh* Please stay healthy and look after yourselves, mwah

Hope to see you all very soon<3

[lolahauri]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Payment ♡

Ship: Mr. Kitty (Backrooms)/Reader

Type: F/M, Smut, One Shot.

Contains: 2.2k Words, Tendrils, Monster Fucking, Telepathy, Transactional Sex, Vaginal Penetration, Masturbation, Tendril Sucking, Size Kink, Nipple Play, Slenderman-Like Mr. Kitty, He Gets Pleasure From His Tendril Hands, Rick & Morty References, Canon Divergence, Porn With Plot.

Event: Kinktober/Monstober, Day 2.

Summary: You didn't bring Mr. Kitty a cute gift? Well he isn't gonna let you stay here for free! Looks like you'll have to use another form of payment.

~

Imagine being stuck traveling through the backrooms and constantly getting put into threatening and lonely levels.

You're dehydrated, starving, and exhausted from running. Not to mention you haven't seen another form of life in days. But your luck turns around when you fall asleep and find yourself waking up in a real bed for once.

At first you can't believe it, you think you've finally landed back in your own room. But as you wake up more you realize that isn't the case. "Still better than anywhere else I've been." you think to yourself as you rub your eyes.

Sitting up and looking around now, you notice the room is clean and cutely decorated. It really seems like someone lives here. "Did I clip into somebody else's room? Maybe I can get back home from here." You wonder, standing up from the bed and beginning to look around.

As you peek into each room, you're able to confirm that no other humans live here. There's no windows at all and no doors that lead outside for somebody to enter.

But strangely enough, the entire home is also fully furnished, decorated, and cleaned spotless. There's even water and electricity here!

You decide to take advantage of the supplies and resources around you, not knowing when you'll have this opportunity again.

You first find the laundry room and strip out of your dirty clothes, putting them in the wash and then taking a fresh towel from the cupboard above.

Heading into the bathroom, you look around and find a bottle each of shampoo and conditioner. It smells amazing and looks brand new. When you step into the shower and turn on the hot water, you feel all of your problems melt away in an instant. This has to be a dream, it's way too good to be true.

After taking your sweet time in the shower, you wrap yourself up in the soft towel and switch your clothes over to the dryer. Time to check the kitchen for some real food. You haven't eaten in two days.

And just as luck would have it, the fridge and pantry are packed full of snacks and leftovers.

The fridge has some pizza, rice, pasta, and various fresh fruits and veggies. You take what you find most appealing and move to the cabinets. There's a wide assortment of crackers, cookies, and chips that you're eager to dig in to.

After grabbing all the food and beverages you can carry you make way to the small living room, curious about the tv.

"I wonder if it really works? But how would it get connection here?"

You sit down and grab the remote, switching on the tv and immediately getting hit with a strange ad.

"I'm Ants-In-My-Eyes Johnson! Here at Ants-In-My-Eyes Johnson's Electronics!"

"Ew, God! He actually has ants in his eyes, what the fuck is this?"

You skip to another channel before you lose your appetite, landing on a tv show called "The Adventures of Stealy".

"Is that some kind of alien? He looks way too real to be CGI. I guess I'm really not on earth right now..."

After you've eaten your fill, you return to the kitchen to wash your dishes and dispose of any garbage. It's only a few minutes later you hear the dryer go off. Finally, clean clothes.

You quickly discard of your damp towel and change into your leggings and hoodie. You stand and relish in the warmth for a moment before making your way back to the couch.

There's nothing else to do but watch more TV, your phone had already broke a long time ago from the constant dropping.

You flip through channels once again, this time choosing a cartoon called... Gazorpazorpfield? At least it's something kind of familiar...

After a few episodes and some more snacks, you start to feel drowsy again. You hadn't even been awake that long, but after over a week of fighting for your life in various backroom levels, you aren't surprised that you're still tired.

You make your way back to the bedroom you woke up in, pulling off your clothes until you're in nothing but your bra and panties. As you crawl under the covers, you practically melt into the soft bedding beneath you, feeling more warm and comfortable than you probably ever have.

But just as you feel sleep begin to gently pull you in, a harsh static sound fills your ears, making you feel light-headed and dizzy until it stops.

You look up and are met with the sight of a tall black figure standing at the side of the bed. You shriek and sit up right away, covering your chest with the blanket. The male-like figure has no mouth or eyes, but you can feel him looking at you as he speaks.

"My apologies, I wasn't aware there were travelers here. Or, is it just you?" His voice is deep and smooth. He must be talking through some kind of telepathy.

"Can he read my mind too?"

"Yes, I am able to read your thoughts." He says as soon as you ask the question in your head. Oh, that's embarrassing.

You aren't really sure of what to say, so you settle with "Sorry, um, it's just me. Is this your house? I didn't mean to come here, I just kind of... woke up here." you look away with embarrassment.

"I know, It's not a problem at all. Nobody comes here by choice, my home is just a haven for those stuck between realities like yourself."

"Oh, right..." you're looking up at him now "So, would it be okay if I stayed here at least another night?"

"Of course, you are free to stay as long as you need. So long as you brought a gift, that is." Your stomach sank. A gift? How were supposed to know to do that? Shit, what's going to happen if you don't give him one?

He interrupted your panic suddenly, "You didn't bring anything?" You shook your head slowly, heart beating a little faster.

"Hm. Strange, there must've been a mix up. Humans are only supposed to appear here if they have a trinket or toy with them. I'm afraid without proper payment, I'll have to send you on your way."

Your eyes widen when you start to hear static building up, your body feeling light like you're about to shift to another room again. In a desperate panic, you resort to the only thing you think could convince the man.

"Wait!" You yell out, reaching your hand out to grab onto his arm, "Please wait! I can... pay you in another way?"

The noise dissipates and your body feels solid again. He hesitates before speaking. "And what would that be?" He sounds genuinely confused.

"Um... you know..." You remove the blanket from your body and let it rest on the bed, exposing your barely clothed figure for him to see.

"..."

"I see... You wish to pay with your body, is that right?"

"Uhm, would you accept that?" You ask, sounding pitiful.

He thinks for a moment, "I would."

You nod your head, taking the initiative to start removing your bra, letting it drop to the floor. You then move back further onto the bed, slipping out of your panties and leaning back onto your hands, spreading your legs for him.

You look up at him, waiting for him to make the first advancement. He hums and moves to hover over you, his tendril arms brushing against your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat when his cold, slippery skin moves against yours, tendrils slowly creeping their way up your calves and heading to your thighs.

You gasp when he wraps his arms around your thighs, giving them a light squeeze. For a lonely creature living between realities, he seems to really know what he's doing.

His tendrils carefully unwrap themselves from your thighs and move to explore the rest of your body. One seems to take a special interest in your drippy cunt, while the other slithers up to your chest.

He experimentally runs the tip of his tendril up your folds, watching as your back arches into his touch. He enjoys your reaction, feeling himself become aroused as well. His tendrils feel hot as he continues to wet his tip in your slick cunt, the other arm wrapping itself around your tits.

He gives them a light squeeze before playing with one of your nipples, taking note of the whine that slipped past your lips. "Does this feel good for you as well?"

You bite your lip and nod, looking up at him.

"Where else feels good to you? Tell me where to move." He sounds gentle but stern, still running his tendril up and down your folds, unintentionally teasing you.

Your sentence is broken up by little moans and heavy breaths, but you try and tell him what to do next. "Here," you gently grab his arm, "rub my clit, right here."

He feels around for a moment, assuming he's found the right spot when you moan louder. He rubs your throbbing clit in tight circular motions. You lay back onto the bed and enjoy it, arms feeling tired from keeping yourself propped up until now.

Lying on your back and looking up at him, you can't help but notice how big he is. He's on his knees on the floor and he still manages to tower over you. It honestly turns you on even more.

His tendrils are pretty big too, you wonder if you could fit them inside...

Even if he wasn't reading your mind right now, he would've had the same thought. He's been with other monsters, and other members of his species, but never a human. He's so fascinated by the wetness between your legs, and that pretty mouth of yours that makes such lovely noises for him.

He finds himself desperate to know how it'd feel to be inside of you. As he continues to toy with your clit, he moves his other tendril away from your tits, slowly inching it towards your mouth. He brushes the tip over your parted lips and admires how soft they are.

You get the hint quickly, opening your mouth more and sticking your tongue out for him. He slowly inches his tendril into your soft mouth, shuddering at how wet and hot it is. He fits as much as he can inside before it becomes too much for you, almost five inches. You wrap your lips tightly around him and bob your head lightly.

He's completely obsessed with how it feels, he's never done anything like this before. Now he has to know what your other hole feels like.

Kitty removes his slippery tip from your clit and moves it downwards, pressing it into your tight cunt. You moan around his other tendril at the intrusion, tightening around him and arching your back.

His breathing becomes heavier as he pushes himself deep inside, stretching you out as far as he could. Your eyes roll back slightly at the deliciously painful stretch, feeling more full than you ever have before.

He gently thrusts his tendril in and out, the tip of it finding that sweet spongy spot inside you. He presses on it firmly, immediately noticing how much tighter you got around him afterwards. You moan around his other tendril when he repeats the action, clenching around him.

You swirl your tongue around him and bob your head faster when you feel yourself gradually approaching your orgasm, trying to make him cum with you.

He fucks into you a little faster, feeling a euphoric sensation building up inside him, his tendrils pulsating inside you, feeling hot and tingly.

You're both a mess at this point, but he feels himself losing control first, unable to hold back anymore. Your soft mouth sucking him off and your tight cunt squeezing down on him makes him crazy.

His tendrils begin to wildly twitch and pulse, making you scream as they stretched you to your limit. Starting at the tip of his arms and traveling up to the rest of his body, a burst of white hot pleasure ran through him, unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

His arms start to tremble, signaling overstimulation. He reluctantly pulls away from you, leaving you panting beneath him. You feel tired, wet, and sore now. But you're not totally satisfied yet.

You move a shaky hand down to your clit, rubbing it as fast as you could, so desperate to cum next. It doesn't take long for you to finish. The excitement of him watching you play with yourself combined with the already built up pleasure from being fucked leaves you cumming in less than a minute.

Your legs shake when it hits you, but you try to ride out your orgasm as long as you can. You're quick to become overwhelmed and exhausted though, unable to continue much longer.

As you lay there and process what just happened, he's already bidding you farewell and thanking you for the experience, soon vanishing into thin air. You decide it's time to get some rest again, knowing you're going to be feeling the soreness from this for days to come.

It's worth it in the end though, at least you have a safe place to stay until you figure out what to do next.

[mikedfaist]

Riff just crashing at Readers place all the time.

Unannounced sleepovers.

Always climbs in through the window when he stops by, it’s also always late at night.

When readers mad at him and he comes to apologize he gets kicked out to the sofa. Otherwise he will carefully climb into bed, slip his arm under or around readers waist and kiss their shoulder. It’s the only time when his guard is fully down.

Sometimes he’s horne and will kiss reader awake.

“oh hun that’s creepy af but okay 🙂‍↕️😘”

THIS IS WHAT I’M SAYING

His love language is spontaneous visits. He’ll climb up your fire escape, and just pray the window is unlocked. (Sometimes, if you two have had an argument, he’s not surprised when the window doesn’t budge… but he will politely knock until you yell at him to leave).

The first time he stops by unannounced, is before he can even call you his, but he’s working on it. He was out walking the streets, having a smoke, and quite frankly, he missed you. Somehow, he stumbled down your road, definitely wasn’t planned. He can see from his spot on the sidewalk that your window is ajar, and your light it on.

It took him a week of begging for forgiveness from how badly he scared you. (In his defense, he at least knocked on your window, instead of climbing right in).

Now, they have a rule: window is locked, don’t bother me. Seldom is it locked.

A lot of the time when he comes by, he needs comfort, and maybe he doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s seeking. Maybe it’s after a brutal fight, a rumble. He just knows he needs you, even if you’re asleep beside him. He feels the most safe with you, but I don’t think he could ever openly admit that.

He’s gentle when crawling into bed – taking off his shoes and shirt, inching down onto the mattress as to not disturb you. Sometimes he’ll hold is breath as you begin to stir, but you quickly fall back into your deep sleep. He nestles close to your back – you’re primarily a side sleeper – burrowing his face into your hair. His arm drapes around your side, and he circles your stomach with his thumb. Nothing can hurt him here.

It's no longer a surprise when you wake up to your body passed out beside you. He’ll sometimes sleep until noon without the disturbances. You know he gets his best rest when he’s here with you.

Then there’s the nights when he comes over with that burning desire in his gut, and he really did try not to bother you – for a solid twenty minutes he walked up and down your street to try and get his mind clear, because he feels guilty waking you up when he has his needs, but the needs always win in the end.

He’ll begin kissing your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck, breathing deeply in your scent. His hand that’s resting on your stomach inches closer to your chest, cupping a breast and circling a nipple.

“What time is it?” Your voice is filled with sleep, barely above a whisper. You turn to face him, but can barely make him out in the darkness.

“One o’clock… couldn’t sleep.” He waits a beat before kissing your shoulder. “Just tell me to leave and I will.”

Of course, you don’t.

These kinds of fucks are slow, and gentle and you could have your back pressed up directly against his chest, and that wouldn’t be close enough for him. He somehow needs you more. He keeps his hand on your hip to control his pace; his thrusts are deep, and it’s embarrassingly fast how quickly he feels the need to let go, but he had been getting himself worked up for a half hour before he found himself on your bed.

He slows his pace, and then stops all together. He pulls himself out and turns you over onto your back, sidling in between your legs before pushing back in. You love to play with his hair when he’s on top, and he would be lying if he said he hated it. It makes him feel loved. He drops his face into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting and sucking and nibbling. Your moans flood his ears, and he moves to lift your leg up and over his hip, deepening his angle, just like you like it. He feels your walls tightening around him, your nails digging harder into his back.

“Fuck, don’t stop—don’t stop…”

“I’m gonna cum—I’m gonna cum—”

“Fuck, Riff… fuck me harder.”

He nearly collapses onto you, his arms forming a barrier around your head as his pace intensifies, and he feels you come beneath him. Your sounds alone could make him cum. Before you’ve even finished, he feels that knot finally come undone and he’s spilling into you, his moans engulfing the small space between you two.

“I love you,” he always says as he’s coming down from his high. He means it; it’s never something just said in the moment. Your fingers still entangled in his hair begin to massage his scalp, and he hums against your neck. He doesn’t make a move to pull out of you; quite frankly, he loves the warmness.

“I love you too.”

[wintersera]

hii what do u think of giselle and yunjin fucking you???🥲🥲🥲 i feel like they'd just be big bullies to you and degrade you all the time

cw: dubcon, degredation, drugging, somnophilia, blackmail, i made them assholes in this im sorry 🫠🫠

okay my bad i haven’t answered this (holy shit i’m so sorry) but anyways. when it comes to me theres no normal vanilla thoughts about this, because let me tell you… i want these two women in a way that will cause the second coming of jesus christ—

also i felt like making this a drabble even though i said i wouldn’t do requests or asks my bad guys… brain rot!

bully!aeri and bully!yunjin being very well known for bullying people left right and centre. them having a few lackeys that would run their errands. unfortunately you were one of their little targets to fuck around with quite literally you weren’t a lackey or anything, they just liked to poke fun at you time to time. do that thing that bullies often do and just shove you into a locker, pour water or some drink over your head during lunch breaks, call you a few names here and there, take really humiliating pictures of you and say that they’re not gonna post it anywhere, maybe they have posted it. but anyways, you know, the usual shit.

they thought it would be so funny to invite you over for funsies and not explain why they want you over. so really, who were you to deny their request? quite obviously they could just blackmail you to come running over.

aeri is kind of an enabler to yunjins behaviour- like she knows what she’s doing is horrible and thats why she doesn’t do it normally, but this time is kinda different. aeri is all like “it’ll be fun c’monnnn. you find y/n kinda cute anyways. i know you think she looks so cute when she’s crying… plus, i think she’s cute too. just wanna fuck around with her you know”

and so the day comes. you’re standing in the middle of their room,,, shit you’re so awkard, but that’s to be expected. in what situation would your bullies invite you to one of their houses?

they’d tell you to relax “don’t worry, we just wanted to hang out” for all you know they’re making snacks in the kitchen giggling to eachother while you awkwardly make yourself comfy, sinking yourself on the couch. eventually they brought over the drinks they made specifically for you and handing it over, watching as you sip the drink hesitantly.

“hmm this is kinda good… anyways what am i doing he-“

BITCH?? it only takes you few seconds and you’ve blacked the fuck out. you’re extremely vulnerable infront of both of your bullies, you’re kinda fucked.

oh noooo what ever shall they do to you

you’d wake up to yunjin between your legs with a playful smirk on her face, lapping at your clit, making sure that you definitely feel her tongue flat against it.

oh and aeri? she’s standing behind yunjin taking a video, snickering as you wake up from a good 30 min knock out nap “what the f-fuck?” were the only words that came out of your mouth before yunjin shoved two of her fingers knuckles deep into your cunt.

in panic, you looked up to aeri who was fixated on keeping you in frame while you were being fucked rough. her eyes were glued onto the screen, keeping in a laugh that was in her throat. she noticed you staring at the camera. she laughed “god you look so pathetic. did you really think that we would want to hang out normally? especially with you? hmmm… what would your mom think if she found out that her precious daughter was a slut”

yunjin just chuckled. she kept sucking on your clit while she was so so deep inside of you. i mean hell you were out of it??? your head banging from the spiked drink, and your bully was going down on you? shit was so confusing, but it was all welcomed. aeri and yunjin obviously didnt know that you were getting off to this, so they just carried on with the thought of messing you up beyond your capabilities.

yeah, yunjin wasn’t as mean as aeri was, but the way you writhed your hips on her face whenever she circled her tongue around your clit, made her act harsher. yunjin’s nails dug into your thighs making you hiss at the feeling. you felt more needier, more desperate for her tongue.

at this point they both got that you were whoring yourself out for them “aeri, do you think this little slut deserves to cum?” which gets you panicking a bit

“i don’t think so” aeri responds back with a playful tone “i think i should have a go with our toy before she gets to cum, don’t you think? yeah no they definitely found out….

before you could figure out what they were gonna do, aeri had already switched places with yunjin, disregarding her phone. at a agonisingly slow pace, aeri toyed with your clit “you really do enjoy this, fucking whore- oh i can’t wait to use this against you” yunjin picking up her own phone and snapping a few pics before ripping open your shirt “everyone thinks you’re the sweetest little thing, so cute, so vulnerable, so easy to fool. it’s so funny, no one else but us knows that you’re just a pathetic slut that was waiting for this to happen to you” a few more pics of you shirtless with aeri in between your thighs were taken.

aeri signalled for yunjin to come closer, telling her that it was completely fine to mark you up and leave bruises for all she cares!! no one would really give a fuck anyway- now if it wasn’t aeri’s or yunjin’s marks they’d probably gaf because well… they’d most likely corner you and ask if you were whoring around 😭

besides the point, yunjins trailed across your neck and collarbone, leaving as many hickeys as she can while aeri began fucking you with her fingers relentlessly.

time passes and you’re calling out their names simultaneously, “yun— fu…fuck aeri, can’t- can’t take it anymore” yeah they really dont care, not slowing down at all LIKE AT ALL— aeri fucking you so deep, so rough and so fast that it makes you feel so overstimulated, and with yunjin fondling your breasts and biting at your neck, it makes sense that it made you fall unconscious for a split second. gripping onto the sheets tightly once you come back to reality, screaming their names as they witness you cum all over aeris fingers.

oh and also, for extra measures, they take another pic of you. this time your legs spread wide for the camera— yeah no they’re asshole my bad

so yeah— moral of the story… um i think that bully!aeri and bully!yunjin nghfnfhnfnnhfnfnffnfbfb FUCJ I NEED THEM IN AN UNHOLY WAY 😤😤😤

[420days]

STAYING HOME (SHORT) | JEY USO

summary: jey’s the biggest baby when he’s sick

warnings: none

“Yeah girl, I’m gonna have to pass on lunch.”

“No worries sissy. I understand you wanna take care of your man! Just text me later so I can tell you the tea.” Her close friend, Nicole told her.

“I got you sis.”

After getting off the phone with Nicole she went to the fridge and instantly pull out the items to make a soup. She didn’t know what it was but Jey came down with something that made him extremely sick.

All last night he was throwing up, sweating, and sneezing like crazy. It drove her crazy not knowing what was wrong with him. All night she found herself dozing in and out of sleep, checking in him to make sure he was okay and still breathing.

When she work up this morning she spoke with a nurse to figure out what could’ve possibly been wrong with him. After listing his symptoms is was clear he had some kind of seasonal virus that was going around.

He rarely got sick but when he did he was the biggest baby in the world. He would stay in bed all day and hold Whitney right up under him.

Gathering the items for the soup she instantly started cooking so it would be done sooner than later. She made sure to add the extra spiciness the way they liked it and then started on the dumplings.

“Mmh, this is so good.” She danced to herself as she tasted the soup and then scooped some in the bowl for Jey. She then poured him a cup of lemon honey ginger tea and made her way upstairs.

When she got to their bedroom she placed the bowl and the cup down on the dresser and walked over to the bed where Jey was sprawled out. The room was freezing cold but his body was still hot due to his fever.

“Sweet face, wake up.” She called out to him a sage placed the food on the night stand and opened the blinds to let some light in.

“Baby close that.” He sucked his teeth and pulled the cover over his head to block the sunlight.

“Jey, come on.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing small circles into his back.

“Hmm?” He moved his head from under the comforter while adjusting his body to face her.

“Eat for me and you can go back to sleep. I made you some soup and tea.” She ran her hands through his small curls as he laid his head in her lap.

“I thought you were going out for lunch?” He asked.

“No, I gotta take care of my baby.”

“You don’t gotta do that. Go out with your girls.” He told her but she ignored him and picked up the humidifier so she could change the water in it.

As she did he grabbed the bowl off the dresser and instantly began eating it. If there was one thing Whitney could do it was cook her ass off. He loved all of her cooking especially when he was sick.

“How is it?”

“You know it’s good baby.” He licked his lips.

“Good, how do you feel? You look way better than yesterday.” She asked as she sat down on the bed next to him.

“Damn, I looked fucked up yesterday?” He sucked his teeth and turned to face her.

“Just a little bit.” She giggled.

“You’re not right for that. I couldn’t fucking breathe. He narrowed his eyes are her.

“Well you didn’t want to drink the tea. I bet you’ll drink it all now. It cleared your sinuses right out after I forced it down your throat.”

“That’s how you’re gonna treat me when we’re old, huh? Abusing me and shit?” He took the tea from her as she busted out laughing at how dramatic he was being.

“Hmm, maybe. You can be difficult sometimes we might have to send you to a nursing home.” She laughed once she saw the expression on his face.

“Yeah fucking right. You’ll be real upset when I find a young thang to take care of me.”

“And I’ll beat both of y’all asses. Old or not.” She pursed her lips at him. No longer thinking it was funny.

“Babe, you’re a trip.” He shook his head at her.

——————————————————————————

tag list: @bebesobrielo @trentybenty @amandairene88 @kiki1704 @paigereeder @uceyliyahh

[jaiden-zhou]

(1) casual iso <3

contents: headcanons, reader is a uniqlo employee for plot purposes

not a writer but,, iso is so.. sigh, imagine this reserved uniqlo wearing hitman acting like an absolute puppy for you. yeah this is self indulgent and yeah maybe its based off of my experiences but hey, content.. its long.. i.. the things this man does to me

part 2, part 3

.

.

iso whose closet is practically all uniqlo apparel, from core basics to limited exclusive collabs, anything else is like expensive tech wear/street style clothes, he likes his quality

iso who always grabs heavy oolong milk tea with tapioca pearls, a classic predictable drink (his friends call him basic for it, but he doesn't mind), every afternoon he gets the chance to

iso who ends up being an employee there with how much he visits, the owners are a chinese elderly couple who like gossiping with him in mandarin (he has fun listening to their stories and such)

iso who likes having music playing of his own whether it be from his headphones or speakers, even at work his music is playing loud enough for only him to hear from his headset hanging around his neck

iso who works evening shifts part-time and gains a lot of eyes from admirers where he gets at least three numbers given to him a month like "you're really cute, text me <3 (XXX) XXX-XXXX"

iso who's never interested, none of them catch his eyes like how he catches theirs, and ends up tossing whatever number scribbled onto a receipt away

iso who goes to uniqlo on his day off for a collaboration launch consisting of outerwear jackets and trousers that match his style only to not find his size on the racks

iso who takes his time trying to comb through the racks, desperate to find it on his own and take it with him before giving up, pulling down his headphones, and reluctantly asking you

iso who, at a reasonable distance, looks over your shoulder as you look up the product listing with the desired size and color, hearing faint rap music playing through his headphones slung around his neck, finding that there should be three units left and listens in quietly when you radio your coworkers if there are any in the back before going to look for yourself

iso who waits patiently at the same spot for quite a while before you go jogging up to him with the jacket he has been wanting, the plastic and paper still wrapping it up signaling that it has been unprocessed and untouched

iso who still is patient with you with an expectant look, not the impatient kind, it's the anticipating excitement kind, as you're still a little out of breath from running around finding the item for him unwrapping and removing all the excess packaging and giving it to him with both hands, garbage tucked at your arm

iso who looks at your earnest expression, sweet eyes, and genuine smile and feels his breath hitch before taking the coat and doing a little head bow while muttering a quiet 'thanks'

iso who leaves an anonymous compliment to you, conveying his gratitude for going out of your way to find him a limited quantity jacket and sub-consciously thinks of your cute expression of when you gave it to him every time he throws it on

iso who was asked to pick up a morning shift, no one else could and so he decided to just wake up early enough and suck it up but boy does he not regret it

iso who opens up the shop for the first time ever and lo-and-behold, you waltz in as the first customer and immediately he recognizes you, and apparently so do the owners

iso who listens quietly as, whom he likes to call granny, greets you with a warm voice asking if you're ready to go to work

iso who once again patiently waits for you to walk up and order, finding out that you're also a regular here, always grabbing a drink before your long shift at the japanese clothing store he met you in

iso who's still a little quiet, shy even, when you greet him noting that you recognize him from a while ago, your friendly exterior giving him a fuzzy comforting feeling inside

iso who after making your drink, bids you goodbye and continues on (not before asking to switch to morning shifts.. for some reason hehe)

iso who starts seeing you most mornings before you work and then with some time, working up the courage (it was very hard, he was very nervous you just didn't see it) to ask you for your number, nothing romantic just being friendly, right?

iso who starts getting a little closer to you, learning what day and times you work, your hobbies, your favorite things, the music you listen to <3

iso who sometimes drops by your workplace to give you a drink or some food and simple yet subtly sweet encouragement that always seems to lift your spirits to push through the day

iso who even starts to see you near or at the end of your shift to take you home, you've worked long enough, and it's dark out.. :(

iso who likes to ensure your safety by accompanying you home, his friends like to say (tease) that it gives him an excuse to see you more. it's dangerous out at night, what are they talking about? nonsense. (denial is a river in egypt)

iso who as time goes by, slowly craves your presence a little more than he'd like to admit, you're always on his mind and he often flusters himself with his thoughts of you, his cheeks donning a light-pink blush. maybe his friends are onto something.. ugh

yeah i'm definitely writing more iso content hehe

------

"don't have to take me home every time, zhao yuuuu." you whined next to him. "i've done it before and i can do it again."

you only get a short scoff in return, iso's hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"it's dark, you're more at risk when you're alone." iso states matter-of-fact. his headphones at his neck with no music playing. "you know this too, so you shouldn't be complaining."

"yeah but," you pause for a moment. "i don't want you to have to make the trip each time to pick me up.."

iso takes in your dejected tone, his eyes soften.

"and i don't want you being in potential danger where i could've been there to deter it." iso chides softly. "please, for my peace of mind.."

"whatever you say," you comply, your shoulder bumping into him jokingly as you share a quiet laugh. "thanks, yu. it means a lot."

"always," he replies, a certain warmth sets in when he hears you say his nickname.

[bigskydreaming]

Y’know, I’ve posted before about how important it can be to survivors to be in charge of determining when they disclose what happened to them and to whom in what ways…..and thus how the trend of Dick’s ‘secret’ (what happened with Tarantula or Mirage or both) being found out by his family or friends despite his wishes or even his active efforts to keep it secret, and he’s forced to confront it and deal with all of them knowing before he’s ready and made any kind of peace with it himself, and this is often framed as being what’s best for him and its better now that everything’s out in the open and its like….no, that’s not how it works, you can’t FORCE people to recover on YOUR time table, and it happening in a way that gives them no agency or control over it is often a SETBACK instead of like….to their benefit, because while at its heart, disclosure is a relatively simple action, it can be hugely empowering to survivors because its the first time they’re able to definitively take what happened to them and DECIDE what happens next, to take back some of the CONTROL that was ripped away from them by the event and sent their life into a tailspin ever since…..

Ahem. Anyway. Like I said, y’know how I’ve posted before about….all of…well, that?

LOL.

Yeah, so anyway, I’ve been thinking lately about an ideal ‘counter-trend’ that I think could add so much to the view of these parts of Dick’s narrative and character and to discussions about them….and it also IMO is one of the most likely and in character ways that Dick WOULD be likely to disclose what happened to him and make it known to family or friends…..WHILE letting him retain full personal agency over making that choice HIMSELF, for his OWN reasons….

And that’s like…..letting them all find out because Dick makes the personal decision to open up about that to a survivor or recent victim he sees struggling in the aftermath of their own assault. 

Exposing his own vulnerabiltiies and hurt in order to HELP someone, to make something from his own pain, which is one of the key ways IMO that Dick tends to his own trauma and recovery…..using what happened to him as an opportunity to better help others, be there for them, connect with them and give them an easier time of it or more tools to help in their own recovery than he’d had himself. When he’s able to say and do the things a victim really needs to hear right then and there, because he’s been there himself and he’s just saying or doing what he wishes someone had said or done for him but hadn’t known at the time he needed or wanted or even had someone available to ask even if he were able to.

I’d love to read about a Dick Grayson who finds the strength and will to open up about his own secrets and traumas even if it means people close to him finding out and maybe pitying him (which he hates and I think is one of the primary reasons he doesn’t tell people when something bad happens to him oif he can help it) - specifically because its the strength someone needs from him in that moment, and Dick’s personal call to heroism is the need, the drive, to be what someone needs in order to save them if its at all within his capabilities. That’s why he’s a hero IMO: he doesn’t know how to NOT intervene in a situation where he knows his unique talents and skills could help protect or defend someone, save them from pain or loss or dying. He doesn’t WANT to know how.

Gimme a Dick Grayson who swallows down his fears, straightens his shoulders and defiantly tells his primal reptile brain “Fuck his secrets” - he couldn’t save this person from having this thing happen to them, but he can still be a kind of hero to them, for them, by CONNECTING with them, revealing that even he, a bonafide SUPERHERO, can and has been hurt that way, and it sucks and its painful and it wakes him up sometimes in the middle of the night, but he’s still here, he’s still the person HE chooses to be, someone who still laughs and cries and has friends and goals and dreams and bad days but good days as well….show me him being their own personal superhero by cutting straight through the shit their own demons try to convince them of - that this is their fault or they deserved this or it wouldn’t have happened if they were stronger, smarter, BETTER - because when freaking Nightwing, son of the Batman and leader of the Titans and someone superheroes the world over speak of in glowing terms….

When THAT guy looks you straight in the eye and tells you none of that is true, that he knows this because it happened to him too, and it had nothing to do with strength or weakness or deserving it or wanting it……its a HELL of a lot easier to believe coming from him. To internalize. To take in and make a mantra in your head that you can summon forth to remind yourself of whenever doubts start to sneak up on you again.

Sorry not sorry, no disrespect to any specific singular fic out there - I've LITERALLY written one myself (even if a big part of why Born Under A Bad Sign has languished so long is because I realized it wasn't really what I was looking for/to explore for a lot of these very reasons, and in hindsight I felt like I had just gotten caught up in the usual trends of fics about this topic instead of writing from a start point of exploring what I most wanted to see or read about as a survivor) so please don't take this as a slight to anyone who's written something like this. I'd be insulting myself too if that were the case.

But as a TREND, I've really grown to dislike that there's no shortage of stories where Dick's most vulnerable moments and secrets are dragged out of him DESPITE being the last thing he wants at that time, when there's a dearth of fics used to explore...when and how might Dick go about sharing these secrets or opening up about these moments because he WANTS to, because HE feels ready to. Or even exploring what happens or what he goes through if he opens up or shares about these things BEFORE he's actually ready to, because in an attempt to repurpose his trauma into something he feels can help another survivor, he ignored what he was actually feeling about whether he was ready or not to be open about this and have it known by more people.

Just....any and all angles where HE makes the choice, and not just because he HAS to, and even if he later regrets it or it brings up stuff he wasn't as prepared to deal with as he'd convinced himself he was in the moment....there's so many more avenues to be explored here, and I feel like without even thinking about it too much, most of these avenues get shut off as possibilities or turned away from because the sheer volume of fics where other people find out about these moments without Dick's direct disclosure or when he doesn't want them to or isn't ready for them to know, like....this particular direction is so everpresent it narrows focus and creates the kind of tunnel-vision effect we're all familiar with when it comes to all sorts of fandom trends, until it subconsciously feels like its THE only direction to take with all this.

Anyway. Just wanted to raise that discussion point and if anyone knows of any fics that ARE out there like this, feel free to send them my way.

[cuubism]

"Ooh, Kinky"

Hob enjoys doing small, nice things for Dream. Dream... really likes it. A lot. Explicit. Acts of service Hob. Horny-for-kindness Dream. Smut, light angst, fluff, and simple pleasures.

Dream is about to reach his fucking limit with this social event. Hob knows, because he's seen it happen more than a few times before. It doesn't help that Dream's limit is... easily reached.

Unfortunately, this is a political event critical to the peaceful relations of the Dreaming, so they can't just fuck off whenever they like. Well, Hob could, probably, but he won't leave Dream stranded surrounded by his greatest enemies. Those enemies being small talk and attempting to smile, of course.

Dream is perfectly savage in a conversation when he’s allowed to use words as clever and cutting as he likes, but this event has been mostly petty, mundane topics and people trying to see just how rude they can get away with being before Dream breaks his composure. He never does, because he’s trying to reaffirm the strength of the Dreaming after his long absence, but his glares are icy and his annoyance visible in the patina of stardust dancing over his skin. Hob’s never seen someone say Your company has been a pleasure with quite so much venom, and he spent a not-insignificant amount of time as a knight in the Queen’s court.

He watches Dream grit his teeth and visibly restrain himself from dissolving into sand at the end of yet another mundane conversation, his fingers clenching at nothing. Once the person’s retreated, Hob leans against his side, murmuring in his ear, “Just a little while longer, hm?” and rubs a hand up and down Dream’s back. “Then I’ll take you home, run you a bath, get you those biscuits you like. Sound good?”

All Hob is expecting to get is a hum of acknowledgment, maybe a smile if he’s really lucky. Instead, Dream stares at him, eyes wide.

“What?” Hob says. He hadn’t even said anything bad. He’d been trying to offer a little encouragement, not make Dream more frustrated, after all.

“I—” Dream says, and swallows hard. Hob watches his throat bob. “That. Would be nice. Thank you.”

Odd.

Hob offers him a small smile, but doesn’t get to ask about it further as somebody else comes up looking for the Dream Lord’s attention. Hob leaves him to it for now, mulling on that reaction as he wanders in search of another conversation partner. He’ll just have to ask about it later.

****

Hob does not get to ask about it later. Nor does he get to run Dream a bath, or even get the biscuits out of the cabinet, because the moment they return to the Waking, Dream is climbing on top of him in bed and pulling down his pajama pants.

Hob just watches him do it for several long moments, half of his brain still asleep and the other half not comprehending things much better. “That all got you really pent up, huh?”

Instead of answering, Dream licks a stripe up Hob’s cock.

Hob yelps. “Jesus fuck!”

Dream merely hums, already hyper-focused on his self-appointed task of driving Hob round the bend. He leans in low, takes Hob’s dick in his mouth, sucks on it like it’s the only thing he’s been thinking of for the past eight hours, or whatever amount of time in the Dreaming, and, well, if Hob wasn’t hard when he woke up, he will be in about three seconds.

What a wakeup call.

“Dream—” Hob flails in his general direction and manages to find his hair, tangles his fingers in it. He has no idea what in the bloody fuck is going on, though it’s hardly a situation he’ll protest. “What—?”

“I appreciated,” Dream says, pulling off Hob’s rapidly hardening cock, “your company at that wretched event.”

Hob pets his hair, cradles his cheek. "My love, you don't have to pay me back for these things. You know I would do anything for you."

"You misunderstand." Dream leans his forehead into Hob's hip, breathing hard. Breathing. He really is worked up. "It is not. Obligation. I simply. Was thinking of you. All night."

"Oh. Alright then. Really?"

"There was nothing that could hold my thoughts more than you, my lover."

Hob sighs. "You say such pretty things."

"As do you."

The sight of Dream looking up at him with his face still pressed to Hob’s pelvis is not sanity-inspiring, but Hob still manages to ask, “What did I say, exactly?”

Dream hums as he presses his closed lips to Hob’s dick again, and the vibration travels all the way through Hob’s body. “Taking me home. Baths.” He kisses the head of Hob’s cock, tongue darting out just briefly to wet it. “Biscuits.”

It takes Hob so long to comprehend this he wonders if he’s actually still been asleep this whole time. “That’s what got you worked up?”

“It was sweet.” His long fingers sneak up to Hob’s hips. “Alluring.”

Hob is going to have to unpack this at a later time. “You sure you don’t just want the bath and biscuits?” he asks, and then immediately wants to hit himself.

“Later,” says Dream, and returns to his task of waking Hob up in the most startling way possible.

Later, they do indeed have that bath, which Dream takes as another opportunity to show his apparent appreciation, then rests, purring, against Hob’s chest as the water cools. Hob still has no bloody idea exactly what he’s done to inspire this, but he’s definitely going to have to do it again.

****

Apparently, he does it again not a week later.

Hob’s finally managed to get Dream in the habit of taking the occasional, proper night off from his work in the Dreaming, and so tonight Hob’s made them dinner (more for the familiar experience of sharing a meal than with the expectation that Dream will actually eat), with plans to have a relaxing night in watching a movie afterwards, and then even later, as they usually do, winding up in bed for something even more ‘relaxing’.

It doesn’t go that way. Or rather, it does go that way, but a hell of a lot faster than Hob had intended, and a lot weirder, too.

It starts with dinner, although ‘dinner’ is a bit of an optimistic way to speak of it—it’s actually ice cream, because if there’s one thing Dream will sometimes eat, it’s sweets. There’s never a bad time to eat ice cream, though, in Hob’s opinion. If you have regular access to ice, and freezers, why the hell wouldn’t you make use of it?

And Dream likes sweets. And florals. Hob has attempted to combine these into lavender-flavored ice cream—not something he’d been certain would work, when he started it, but he thinks it’s turned out pretty well.

He places a dish of it on the coffee table in front of Dream, a tiny spoon already stuck into the ice cream. Dream touches the condensation on the cold dish. “Did you make this?”

“Yup.” Hob takes a tiny spoonful of his own, and, yes, it is good, thank God. “It’s actually not as hard as I might have thought.”

Instead of using his spoon, Dream just dips a delicate fingertip in and brings a tiny smear of ice cream to his mouth. Licks his finger clean. Does he actually, truly, have to do those kinds of things to Hob’s sanity? “Lavender?”

“Mmhmm. Was going to try for dandelion, actually? I remember how much you liked the wine the other day. But I wasn’t sure the flavor would come through.”

“Because I liked it?” Dream says, looking down at the dish again. He sounds lost in thought.

“Yeah, of course I made it because you liked it.” Frankly, a large, and continually growing, percentage of Hob’s behavior is driven by what Dream might like.

“You do not have to go through such effort,” Dream says.

“Don’t have to,” Hob agrees. “I want to. Go on. Eat it.” He taps at Dream’s bowl with his spoon. Dream takes another tentative spoonful—actually using the spoon this time—and hums in appreciation.

“It is… very good,” he admits, and Hob can’t help his smile. He sits beside Dream on the couch, tucks into his own bowl—but quickly becomes aware that Dream is more so watching him than he is eating his ice cream, though he does occasionally lift some to his mouth and take a slow bite, lips lingering on the spoon.

“Have I got it on my face?” Hob asks, but instead of responding, as soon as he turns Dream leans in to kiss him.

Hob lets out an involuntary startled sound, but quickly gets with the program, putting down his bowl and taking Dream’s face between his hands instead. Dream tastes, of course, of lavender, with the static charge that sometimes jumps to his lips when he’s worked up. He licks into Hob’s mouth, pushing closer, leaving aside his bowl and spoon to half-crawl into Hob’s lap, whines when Hob runs his hands through his hair.

Hob chuckles as Dream starts tugging at his shirt. “Easy, love. No rush.”

“Is that truly what you wish?” Dream asks, pulling away just far enough to speak against Hob’s lips. His voice is heavy with want. “For me to go… slower?”

Deep down, Hob is really not a very strong man.

So he lets Dream push him down onto the couch, pulls him in with a smile as Dream kisses him hungrily. Hob’s back will regret this later, but for now he just spins into this moment with Dream, forgets about the subtle strangeness of Dream’s pivot to sex because Dream seems so happy and that’s all Hob wants, for him to be happy.

Dream undresses them both and straddles his lap and rides him like he lives to do it, and that successfully wipes any lingering thoughts from Hob’s head. All he knows is the blessed touch of Dream’s skin and the euphoria of having him. And knowing that, some way or another, he did make Dream happy.

****

Every once in a while, Dream brings his work to the Waking world so he can sit beside Hob while he grades without falling behind on his duties in the Dreaming. Hob’s not sure… exactly how he does that. He can’t properly create dreams in the Waking world, of course, but he seems to be able to… sketch. Drawing patterns in his sand on the tabletop, or molding it in the air before him, then whisking the designs back to the Dreaming for later fulfillment. It’s fascinating and highly distracting when Hob is trying to grade, but he certainly won’t tell Dream to stop.

Now, Dream has been spinning the same amorphous shape before him for nearly an hour, frowning. Stuck. His shoulders are tight, arms held aloft in the same position for far longer than a human would be able to manage.

Hob nudges his calf with his toes from where they’re sitting across from each other on the couch, legs outstretched. “You want to take a break, love?”

“A break,” Dream mutters, greatly affronted. “I think not.”

Oh, Hob can play this game. “What if I make it worth your while? Little massage, maybe? You must be sore after sculpting for that long.”

“I don’t get sore,” Dream, the proud idiot, says instantly — before pausing and taking in the rest of Hob’s statement. He finally meets Hob’s eyes, the swirling sand collapsing back into a cube in his palms. “You would… do that?”

“What, a massage? Yeah, I mean, it’s nice, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Dream agrees, staring off into the distance over Hob’s shoulder. “Nice.”

Hob scoots over on the couch to push up next to him, takes Dream’s hand between both of his own and starts rubbing at the meat of his palm. “Yeah, isn’t it? Something the matter?”

“Not as such.” Dream contemplates for a long moment; Hob waits patiently. “I suppose I am not used to it. It affects me, when you say such things.”

The fact that a simple offer of a massage to make him feel better is confusing to Dream hurts Hob’s heart, but fortunately it’s a problem he can fix. Or at least, something he can make Dream get used to. Eventually.

He kisses Dream’s palm. “Well? How about it, then? Let me make you feel good?”

“You make me feel good,” Dream says, with a little smirk that suggests exactly what he means. “Often.”

“Not what I meant, but we can do that, too.”

“Very well, Hob,” Dream concedes, with a heaving sigh, as if this is quite a concession indeed. “Do your worst.”

****

Hob does not get very far into “his worst.”

He supposes it was only inevitable. Straddling Dream’s thighs, rubbing warm oil in soothing patterns over his lithe back and upper arms, is not really a position conducive to reason. Hob didn’t start it, though. He was determined to show Dream an actual, nice, mostly innocent massage.

Then he’d pressed his thumbs into Dream’s neck, rubbing out the undeniable knots that were there despite Dream’s insistence that he did not have a physical body, and Dream had let out a very not innocent moan. And had pushed his ass up against Hob’s clothed dick.

“Stay still,” Hob had said, and Dream had subsided immediately, but not in true understanding or acquiescence. No, it was the quick obedience he played at because he knew obeying Hob’s commands like that turned Hob on.

Hob had recognized the ploy, but that did not change that fact that his self-control in the face of an obedient, wanting, moaning Dream was exactly zero.

That’s how they’ve ended up here. With Hob pressing Dream into the sheets, fucking him hard and fast, hands still slick with massage oil.

“You are incapable of just having a good fucking time,” he complains, not slowing in the slightest.

When Dream replies, Hob can hear his smirk even through the muffling of the pillow. “I am having a good time now.”

“There’s more than one type of a good time,” Hob says, and bites the back of Dream’s neck.

Dream shudders. “Why change a good thing?”

“More than one type of good thing,” Hob repeats. He doesn’t really know why he’s attempting to convince Dream not to have sex. How incredibly self-sabotaging. Only it feels important that Dream gets to experience simple nice things as well. Not only sex.

Though of course, Hob is always in favor of sex.

He tables that conversation for later. “Hush, now,” he says, and mouths over the bite mark he’d made on the back of Dream’s neck, deepening the bruise. “We’ll talk about that later, after I make you come.”

“Oh, we will?” Dream says, petulantly, and Hob leans back, pulling Dream with him by the hips so he’s balanced precariously on his elbows and knees, spine arched, as Hob keeps fucking into him. Which, admittedly, is probably exactly the kind of reaction Dream wanted to get out of him.

Dream lets out a pleased groan at the new angle, confirming Hob’s suspicions. Hob loves to get those sounds out of him, though, even if by Dream’s design. His own breath is loud in the quiet bedroom, the quick slap of their bodies together too, but Dream’s moan as Hob takes him in hand is louder.

His hand is slick with oil still, and Dream slides easily through his grip, pushed by the force of Hob’s movement. Each thrust punches a broken ha-h! sound from him, and his hands are fisted in the sheets, and Hob knows from experience his eyes are squeezed shut tight. Braced against overwhelm.

Lord does Hob love to overwhelm him.

“Do you think you’ll be sore tomorrow?” he asks, false casual. “More than when you were working? Do you think you’ll still feel me in you?”

“Yes,” Dream pants. “Yes.”

“Will you keep it, even if it hurts?” Dream could easily wash these small human remnants from his form, but sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he comes back to Hob joints still aching from being fucked. God it makes Hob sick with want.

“Pain is good,” Dream says. “I will take it.” He clenches around Hob as if to emphasize the point, body spasming. Held open and full.

‘Pain is good’ is not exactly what Hob meant, but Dream is overdramatic like that and he does like a little pain, sometimes.

In the morning Hob will take him in his mouth, bring him off with easy heat and agonizing slow pleasure. Then he’ll roll on top of him, fuck him through the afterglow, erase that soreness with a slow, easy stretch that melds right into him. Kiss him and move in him until Dream comes twice, at least.

Now, he twists his grip around Dream and thumbs over his slit in the way he knows will make him come, and grips his hip hard enough to leave bruises, and Dream cries out at the force, spilling over his hand.

Hob doesn’t slow. He takes Dream’s hips in both hands again, holds him there as he fucks into his tight, oversensitive body. So tight after, always, as if whatever arousal unlocked gets timid again in the aftermath. Hob would feel like more of a dick for loving it if Dream didn’t seem to get off on it, too.

“So fucking tense, baby,” he says, pressing Dream to the sheets again, mouthing at the back of his neck. His skin tastes like oil. Dream trembles under him. “Should I stay in you longer? Maybe I should make you wait. Keep you on my cock until you get used to it.”

“Yes,” Dream says. “Mold me to you.”

Hob fucks him harder, down into the bed, and Dream gasps at each stretch. Hob won’t last much longer like this. He’s surprised he lasted this long.

“Come back to me in the morning,” he says, “and we’ll keep practicing.”

And Dream moans, and that’s enough for Hob. With several quick stutters of his hips, he spills in him, Dream’s muscles going all tense under him at the feeling. Then he falls boneless over Dream’s back, and stays like that, in him, keeping a promise, or perhaps a threat, for a time.

“I love when you get like that,” Dream murmurs, eyes heavy-lidded. Shifting against where Hob is going soft inside him.

“How?”

“Wanting me,” Dream says.

“I always want you,” Hob says.

“You know what I mean.”

Yeah, Hob does, and it’s not really what he intended for an easy, relaxing evening, though Dream has relaxed under him. But this intensity, this roughness, no matter how much they both love it, hadn’t been what he had been aiming for at the start. He hadn’t even been angling for sex at all at the start.

And now Hob is picking up on the pattern that he’s been pushing aside each time it comes up. The way Hob will try to do something nice for him and Dream will spin it around into sex. After that event in the Dreaming. After Hob had fed him. He had been attributing it just to passion, but… maybe that’s not the whole truth.

He finally pulls out, trying not to relish too much in Dream’s groan at the feeling, and goes to clean him up with quick, practiced motions. Dream just hums, still sprawled out, loose and spoiled. Hob cuddles back up to him, turning him on his side and pulling Dream flush to his body, Dream’s back to his chest. He knows from experience that it’s the best position if he wants to get real, personal answers out of him, because Dream won’t have to look him in the eye as he says them.

“Do you not like,” he starts, thinking it through as he speaks, lips to the back of Dream’s neck, “when we do just… simple things other than sex?”

Dream stiffens immediately, which perhaps was inevitable. Hob holds him tight so he won’t slip away. “If you are dissatisfied with our lovemaking—”

“Not what I said.” He kisses under Dream’s ear. “Don’t jump to conclusions, eh?”

But jumping is how Dream’s mind works, Hob knows. It’s not for dreams to be linear, but to create zigzag webs of meaning, clouds of abstraction. Feelings layered and refracted.

“Are—” he starts, a thought occurring. “Are you unsatisfied?”

“No,” says Dream, but Hob isn’t convinced by it. He doubts Dream would let him do something he didn’t like—Hob hadn’t even gotten away with calling him a friend the first time without getting a reaction—but that doesn’t mean he would speak up about what he does want.

“I do enjoy such things you speak of,” Dream says before Hob can push. “‘Simple things.’ Nice… things.”

“Well. I’m glad, then. Only you… do turn it into sex. A lot. And I’m not doing ‘nice things’ just to get you into bed, you know.”

“Such temptations are not necessary for that, historically,” Dream says, with some of his rare humor. Hob can imagine the tiny smirk on his lips, and leans over to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Temptations, huh?” he says, still close to Dream’s cheek, and Dream blushes. Just the barest amount, but any flush is easily visible on his pale skin. “My attempts at strange ice cream flavors really did it for you?”

“You made it for me,” Dream says. His voice is quiet like the hush of light rain.

Hob squeezes him to his chest. “You talk like no one’s ever done something just nice for you in a relationship.”

“Do not jump to conclusions,” Dream says, echoing him with a twitch of the lips. “But such small signs of care… it is a human thing. I am unused to that. I am… a medium through which fantasies are spun. Not a creature to be made tea and ice cream.”

“What if my fantasy is making you tea and ice cream?” Hob says. His heart hurts at the thought of it being foreign to Dream, even if he knows some of it is just his nature as an Endless, that Dream has had some good relationships, at least for the time that they lasted, and that supernatural creatures can have different ways of showing care—hell, he’s seen it with Dream himself—but still—

“You are turning my words upon themselves,” Dream says, but seems to find it humorous. “I suppose that because I am unused to it, such things unduly affect me. Is it a surprise, then, that I should want you so when you do them?”

“Are you saying those things make you horny?” Hob’s voice pitches up several notches. Dream actually squirms in his arms, as if to wiggle away back into stardust.

“I do not care for that word to be applied to me,” he says.

“You are, though,” Hob says. God, the fact that he seems to get turned on by simple care and kindness in a relationship is both sweet, hot, and terribly sad all at once. But with Dream naked in his arms he’s leaning more towards hot.

Dream doesn’t answer, and Hob leans over to catch his eye. “Hey, Dream. Look at me?” Dream still doesn’t, so Hob takes his chin and tugs until Dream finally turns his gaze to him. He looks almost… ashamed.

“Hey.” Hob lets his hand fall to a gentler hold, cradling Dream’s cheek. “None of that. Would think you were talking about tentacle porn, the way you look.”

Hob does not actually think Dream would be ashamed of tentacle porn. No, it’s only this.

“Humans only see tentacle sex as ‘kinky’ because you do not know any sentient beings with tentacles,” Dream says.

Hob stares at him for several long moments. Has to shake himself hard to reset. “That’s another conversation,” he says, and Dream gives half a smile, enough that it breaks that look on his face. Laughing at Hob’s meager human experience. He’ll take it.

“What I’m saying is,” he continues, “you don’t have to be ashamed. It’s sweet, really.”

Dream finally turns over properly on his back so Hob no longer has to lean over his shoulder. Hob takes advantage of it to lean in and kiss him, slow and lingering, and when he pulls away Dream is looking at him with his pupils wide and his mouth wet and parted, a look that begs another kiss and another of anything Hob’s willing to give him. Which is much.

“You can have whatever you want,” Hob murmurs. “Any other desires you’ve been keeping close to the chest?”

Dream shakes his head. “It is not about elaborate fantasy. I can make any sexual fantasy a reality in the Dreaming. But.” His gaze slants down. “I cannot make someone love me.”

“Oh, darling.” Hob kisses him again, soft and sweet this time. “I want to give that to you, don’t you know? All the time.”

“I am coming to that awareness,” says Dream, softly. “And perhaps we might… do more. Of these ‘simple nice things’ that you speak of.”

“Because it turns you on?” Hob says, but it’s just teasing now.

“Among other reasons,” murmurs Dream, and leans his head against Hob’s.

There’s nothing Hob wants more than to give him those things. The chance to see Dream happy is the sweetest gift he can imagine. His own ‘nice thing,’ perhaps, though nothing about it feels simple.

For now, he cuddles Dream close, rubbing his hand up and down his spine. Dream makes a rumbling, purring sound of pleasure, and presses into him, nose tucked against Hob’s throat. Hob loves him so much it makes his chest hurt, a sweeter version of the wound he’d felt during all of Dream’s long absence.

I’ll make you so used to nice mundane things you’ll get fucking bored, Hob thinks. Though there are a lot of nice, ordinary things—life’s made up of them—so it might take a long time.

Fortunately, Hob has a long time.

****

The next time Hob makes Dream dinner—actual dinner this time, not just ice cream, partly because he’s too weak to handle the image of Dream licking ice cream off his fingertips again—he just pulls Dream to the bedroom afterwards to cuddle. He wants to show Dream a quiet evening, to let him feel good without plan or expectation. And by the way Dream slides into bed beside him, presses up against Hob’s body, skin to skin, just his underwear on, and then rests there like it’s where he belongs, Hob thinks he gets the message.

Dream’s form is warm and alluring against him, but Hob doesn’t feel the need to push it further towards sex. The contented hum of Dream’s body at his side is its own form of satisfaction. The pleasure he can draw in him just by holding him close. Dream is calm and pleased and happy, and while they’ll surely slide into sex later, or maybe just tomorrow morning, if Dream stays that long, for now this is more than enough.

The slow build of pleasure as he strokes his hand through Dream’s hair and down over his back. The brush of Dream’s feathery hair against his jaw as he tucks his head further into Hob’s throat with a sigh. Dream is clearly pleased, Hob can feel that he’s hard against his thigh, but he seems content to just let it be for now, to relish in those early, warm moments of arousal. He really just wanted to be petted and spoiled and adored all along, Hob thinks with a smile. And how long has Hob wanted to spoil and adore him?

Hob’s just about to fall asleep, still lightly stroking Dream’s hair, when Dream’s head snaps up in the direction of the hallway, like a cat that’s spotted a fly buzzing around in the dark. “Sibling,” he calls, “I can sense your irritating presence. Reveal yourself, or suffer the consequences.”

“Ooh, consequences. I’m just shaking in my Louboutins,” says Desire, swanning out of the shadows, eyes glinting. Hob, properly awake now, gets the sense that they’re about to have a very odd conversation, here in his bedroom, in the middle of the night. Never a normal fucking tea in this family.

“What are you doing here,” Dream says flatly. “You aren’t welcome.”

He hasn’t moved from where he’s still curled against Hob, Hob notes with a little thrill.

“The level of horny wafting off this flat is revolting, I simply had to come see what you were getting up to.” Desire leans in the doorway, head in their hand, and looks the two of them up and down, face falling in what looks like genuine disappointment. “Are you fucking… cuddling? Are you— are you petting his disgusting hair?”

“Fuck off, Desire,” Hob says mildly, and Dream smiles smugly.

"Unbelievable," complains Desire. "The utter disrespect upon my realm."

"You are simply jealous that my lover is the most alluring in all the land," says Dream, and kisses Hob on the nose, then on his closed eye, then on the cheek. "Isn't he a sweetheart?”

Desire blinks at them several times in disbelief. Rubs their eyes. Looks again. "Nope, turns out I really did just witness that."

They manifest a cigarette, and take a long pull, leaning their forehead against the doorframe like the weight of the world is upon their shoulders. Then they straighten up, shaking it off.

“Well, I see you've done a swan dive off the deep end. I'll leave you to your demise. Don't call me unless you've decided to try some pet play or something else even marginally respectable."

"I shan't be inviting you to that," says Dream.

"Didn't invite you this time," mutters Hob.

"Lies. Foul lies. I know all. I see—” they point at them ominously— “all. Even though I'm wishing more and more that I did not. Sayonara, you puritan fucks."

And they disappear.

Hob breaks down laughing, tucking his face into Dream's shoulder.

Dream caresses his cheek. “What is it?”

"Oh, just. Kink-shamed by the embodiment of Desire itself. That's all."

Dream pouts. “It is not like Desire to kink shame. I assure you, I could have taken the form of a human and engaged in some real human fucking and they would still have taken issue because it was me.”

“Is that— uh,” Hob frowns. “Is that considered— kinky?”

Dream looks at him seriously. “Very.”

“Huh.” Hob ponders this strange little tidbit about immortal creatures’ lives. “Oh, is that right?”

Dream casts him a warning glance. “Do not do anything untoward with that knowledge.”

“Oh, I’m definitely going to do something untoward with that. You kinky bastard, you.”

Dream sighs as if exhausted, yet unsurprised by Hob’s antics. “Many do seem to think so,” he admits.

“This is the best information I have ever learned,” Hob decides. “You know, darling, if you wanted to have terribly spicy human sex, you only had to ask.”

“You may come to regret that offer,” Dream warns, but he settles back against Hob’s side with a satisfied hum.

“Nah.” Hob already has far too many ideas for that. Many more things to add to the list of human experiences he can show Dream. Not all of them quite so wholesome as dinner and cuddling. Indeed, there are many different types of ‘nice things’ to be had, and more than one fun way to spoil him. “I don’t think so.”

And while he’s at it… maybe he’ll ask Dream about that whole tentacles thing, too. If they’re in the process of exchanging kinks, and all.

[scarofthewind]

Slashers x Reader || Stuck (NSFW)

A/N: HOwdy bitch! This is a cheesy, scenario prompt where the reader (or slasher) gets stuck and then fuck.

Warnings: Dub!con, teasing, fingering, oral, non!protection, female pronouns, blah blah blah

Michael Myers: Under the bed

"Damnitt," you hissed as one of the beams from under the bed came down on your lower back, keeping you pinned in your spot. All you were trying to do was grab a bag of winter clothes that was squished towards the back under your bed and now you were stuck, left to fight off dust bunnies alone. "Michael?" You called, heaving a sigh as you tried moving again but to no avail. You couldn't reach the bar with your arms due to the tight space; you were stuck.

"Michael!" You shouted, finally hearing his loud footsteps ascending the stairs.

"What do you w-" Michael snapped his mouth shut, eyes growing wide as he watched your lower half squirm as you tried to get out form under the bed.

"The bar is stuck and I can't get out. Lift the bed." You said, watching his feet cross the floor until he was behind you out of sight. For a moment, nothing happened and you grew irritated but silently reminded yourself who you were dealing with and took a deep breath. "Don't rip them please." With those simple words, you felt large hands cup your ass, reaching to the hem of your pants and pulling them down with your panties as well.

You felt his fingers trace over your skin, creating goosbumps in their wake. His hands spread your thighs apart and you heard him groan, your face heating up at the noise. Michael was practically foaming at the mouth by the time he slipped a finger into your cunt. His eyes never left your lower lips and he added another finger just a few seconds later, feeling the way your walls tightened around his digits. "Did you plan this?" He asked, his thumb moving down to circle your clit.

"You think I want to be under here?" You snapped, biting back a moan as he rocked his fingers into you. Michael chuckled at your attitude and curled his fingers, grinding them against your g-spot and watching your thighs begin to tremble.

"Hurry up and cum so I can rescue you and claim my reward," Michael grunted, his cock straining against his jeans and the smell of your excitement making his mind go numb. Maybe he would just fuck you like this.

William Schenk/Emmerson: Under the car

"Will?" You called, setting your bag down and taking your shoes off. Your house was quiet other than the loud banging from in the garage, a sign you knew would lead you to your fiancé. "How long have you been out here?" You asked as you found him under the old car you said would be better used as scrap metal than trying to fix.

"Hey babe," he replied, his hand coming out to grab a wrench of some kind before he went back to clanking away. "About two hours or so. I'll be done in a minute." William was so focused on fixing a stubborn part of the vehicle that he didn't even realize how the car jack had fallen. Five minutes later when he finally decided to call it quits, he realized the situation. "Shit," he grunted, yelling out for you.

"Are you okay?" You called as you came back into the garage, watching as he was trying to get out from under the car.

"I'm fine, the fucking jack fell again," he sighed.

"I told you to get a new one last week!" You nagged at him before you made your way closer to him. You weren't sure if it was the way he was sweaty and covered in grease or the bubbling arousal in your system but you had an evil idea. With light fingers, you traced your fiancés cock through his jeans, watching him twitch at the feeling.

"What are you doing?" William asked, curious to see where your mind was at, although he had a feeling he already knew.

"I like you like this," you cooed, watching his cock harden in his jeans at your constant petting. You gently undid the button and zipper before reaching past his boxers and pulling his erection out. You heard him suck in a breath as the cold air hit his shaft.

"Dirty fucking girl," he groaned, wishing he could watch you in this moment. The moment your lips and tongue met the tip of his cock, he was a mess. William had to grip the wrench in his hands in order not to grab pieces of the car that were already falling apart. He closed his dark eyes and just felt your mouth around him; warm and wet like your perfect cunt that he loves so much.

When he felt you pull off his cock completely he was frozen in waiting. He could hear a zipper and a thud of clothes before he felt your hand circling his base. "Let me out baby," he warned, his patience growing thinner by the moment.

With a soft laugh, you pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and slowly sank down with a 'no', on your lips.