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antimonyandthyme · 2 months

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carcar, carlandoscar, 3k, explicit content, set after the hungary gp (so, rancid)

The muteness wore away when the ceremony started. First place, no matter how convoluted, suited Oscar just fine. Carlos watched him hoist the trophy high, while wondering if Oscar had an extortionate sense of payback. The last time Carlos had won, in Melbourne, he hadn’t let Oscar come until Suzuka. Not even on Thursday before media duties. But on Saturday, after Qualifying, because no matter how mean he’d tried to be he couldn’t be the one to affect Oscar’s actual race.

His appendix surgery had been a good excuse. Carlos said, “You’re going to have to work for it yourself, if you want to come,” and intentionally kept the circle of his hand around Oscar’s cock loose and easy. Oscar had whined his frustrations, rutting fervently into Carlos’ palm for any sort of friction. It wouldn’t have needed much anyway; Oscar had been so weak for it.

“Asshole,” Oscar said as he came, but the viciousness of it was taken away by the way he’d almost sighed it, and then slumped into Carlos’s arms after. Soft and almost sweet.

And then Carlos had podiumed. And Oscar had gotten eighth. Great feelings all around.

He’d seen it in the way Oscar had looked at him after though, the heat in his eyes burning its way up Carlos’s back in a slow crawl. Carlos knew. The next time. He’d be made to return the favour.

There wasn’t much of a wait. Not even a couple of hours after the champagne had been drunk, and the confetti peeled of sticky skin.

Carlos stared at the text with a room number. There was no other instruction, nor a time. Already, the itch under Carlos’s skin was becoming a near physical presence. If it were Carlos, he’d push, tell Oscar not to keep him waiting. Oscar would let Carlos draw his own conclusions. Let him wonder if he’d show up too early to an unoccupied room, and have to storm away and make the same trip twice. Or overthink and show up late, and be punished worse for it.

The AC was turned up high, but Carlos imagined he was sweating. Blood pooling in places he could not hide just from the anticipation.

He wasn’t sure of the time when he finally knocked. Two neat taps. He forced himself not to rock on the balls of his feet. When Oscar opened the door, Carlos could pretend he looked calm, in control.

“You took your time,” Oscar said. He didn’t sound annoyed or impatient. There was probably little room for it; winning tended to take up too much space. That didn’t mean Carlos could let his guard down.

“I assumed you’d be out with the team.”

“Two drinks.” Oscar shrugged, stepping aside so Carlos could come in. “That was about all I could stomach.”

Asking why was redundant. It was a one-two for McLaren. Lando would’ve been there, surely.

For such a straightforward guy, Oscar was surprisingly hard to read. He’d give Carlos these little clues, nothing else. The deal was that the winner could take all. Melbourne had been such a lesson. But Oscar seemed to be waiting for permission, paused at the narrow hallway less than a foot away from Carlos.

“So what you’re saying is,” Carlos said, “you haven’t celebrated.”

“No,” Oscar agreed. The wry twist of his lips was encouraging. “I have not.”

“Well,” Carlos said slowly. “What are you waiting for?”

Oscar’s spine stacked itself up, straight as can be. Impressive how quickly his demeanour changed. Imperturbable, unaffected Oscar, who was actually so perturbable and affected. Carlos was secretly delighted.

When Oscar planted himself at the edge of the bed, knees thrown apart with all the self-confidence of a race winner, Carlos went without a second thought. Knelt between Oscar’s legs obediently, and opened his mouth.

Oscar seemed to like Carlos’s hair. He kept his fingers knotted through, at times tugging hard enough for Carlos’s scalp to ache. It was a nice distraction, because Carlos wasn’t as much sucking as he was trying not to choke. Oscar hadn’t given him much time to adjust. His cock felt thick and inescapable in Carlos’s throat. Occasionally, Oscar would pull Carlos off by the hair, give him a shaky moment to breathe, before impaling Carlos back on his cock.

“Too much?” Oscar asked casually, when Carlos couldn’t stop the weak whimper forced out of his throat. “Ah, no. You like it.”

Of course Oscar would notice, Carlos growing harder by the second, while his hands fluttered uselessly under his thighs. His entire body jolted when Oscar nudged his foot against Carlos’s cock. Only enough to be the worst of teases.

“Don’t whine,” Oscar said, when Carlos whined. “You made me wait two weeks.”

Carlos shivered. All he could comprehend was the weight of Oscar in his mouth. Solid, unforgiving. Drool slipped out, trailed down his chin. He didn’t want to think about the kind of picture he was making, looking up at Oscar like that. Pathetic enough for Oscar to soften.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.” Oscar continued to stroke Carlos with the tip of his big toe. Carlos couldn’t stop himself from curving into a half-moon shape, in an attempt to chase the paltriest of touches. “I’ll let you come today, if you’re good.”

Too easy, too easy. Carlos wasn’t stupid. Oscar wasn’t looking to be nice today, not after what his team had done to him. There wasn’t any of the usual triumph available to dampen the blow.

Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, braced himself, when Oscar began to thrust in his mouth. He gagged, fighting for a wet gasp of air. His throat was a stinging mess of sensation. The dull ache in his lower belly was worse. Above him, Oscar groaned, and the curl of fingers in his hair became an iron-clench.

“That’s what you’re good for,” Oscar said. He sounded miles away from Carlos, disembodied. “Your mouth, fuck, taking me so well. Your ass.” Carlos trembled, his hole clenched. A premonition of what was to come. “That’s all you were made for, for—”

Oscar came suddenly, violently, hips twitching. Like that was enough for him, the idea of Carlos just being his for the taking.

That was fine. Oscar was a race winner, and Carlos had come in sixth, behind Charles. He didn’t yet have a seat. In the moment, Oscar’s come pooling on his tongue, it didn’t make him feel that bad.

Oscar had him strip down to just his briefs, the fabric wet and constricting around him. Air felt like pins against his overheated skin. He was face down, hips up, knees kicked wide. Vulnerable in a way he could never get used to.

Unsurprisingly, Oscar hadn’t touched Carlos after he came. It was a good thing Carlos’s throat was all used up; he wasn’t above begging.

Oscar ran a hand down the inside of Carlos’s thigh, and he seized up like he’d been tazed.

“Sensitive,” Oscar said. “You waxed for me?”

No, Carlos thought sourly, but all he could manage was a garbled sound. Oscar rubbed his hole roughly through the cloth of his briefs, and the sound tapered into a high-pitched whine.

“You want it,” Oscar said.

Yes. “Yes!” he yelped, when Oscar laid a flat palm across his ass. More shock than pain. He tilted his head such that his cheek was squashed into the sheets, the eye contact somehow making everything better and worse. “I want. Oscar.”

Oscar dragged his briefs down, only so much that it exposed his hole, and left it uncomfortably taut around his upper thighs. His cock was still clothed, still begging for a touch that didn’t feel like a scratch. Protest was a helpless shake of his head, and Oscar pinched the flesh of his ass, a little meanly.

“Always complaining,” Oscar said. “Always wanting more than you can have.”

A quality that could have been used to describe any of them. And so what? So what if he wanted? Pride slammed Carlos’s throat shut again. All he could do was push his hips back, begging for it in a way he could deny later.

It seemed an eternity, by the time Oscar deigned to slip a lubed-up finger into him. Carlos felt as if he’d been waiting so long, his abdomen tightened, his toes curled. Oscar was content to pump one finger in and out of Carlos, giving him nothing else. He’d smack Carlos’s thigh, tug his hips up whenever he got too close to the bedspread, leaving him rutting mindlessly against air.

Couldn’t even voice his complains, for fear of opening his throat and letting any of that neediness escape. His cock was so hard he was afraid he’d start sobbing.

“Hey.” Oscar’s finger stilled in him. He sounded funny. Carlos rocked back, pleading for more, and got a stinging slap against his ass for his troubles. “Do you want to try something new?”

Carlos had to count, take stock. The patch of sheet under his mouth was damp with saliva. His shoulders were starting to ache, taking the brunt of his weight. His thighs would start to shake soon, even with all the biking he’d been doing. Anticipation always wore him down quick. His right big toe was cramping up. This was a trap.

“What,” he croaked. Curiosity was going to kill him, as surely as a carelessly taken corner. “What are you thinking?”

“I said I’d let you come today, but I don’t really—”

Oscar paused. Carlos swore he could hear a buzzing in the room. His pulse sounded like thunder in his ears. Every one of his senses tuned toward Oscar.

“Don’t really deserve it, do I? Don’t really deserve to fuck you.”

No. No.

“Hey, Carlos.”

“Please,” he whispered into the bed, but he didn’t think Oscar could hear.

“Let’s get Lando in here.”

Carlos knew the second his body gave himself up. He clenched wildly around Oscar’s finger, his cock jumped in the confines of his briefs, and his knees gave out.

“Ah,” Oscar said. His finger in Carlos crooked down, viciously enough for Carlos to see stars. Barely anything had been done, and Carlos was already a gasping, trembling pile. “You want it.”

Carlos let himself imagine it. Lando. Lando. Draped over him, covering every inch of his skin. Fucking him while Oscar watched. All that talk about not being deserving, but it was Oscar who got to peel back Carlos’s skin while he sat and did nothing. Oscar. Oscar. Oscar.

His mind was patchwork of burnt synapses. Distantly, he was aware his hips were twitching, rubbing pathetically against the sheets. It wasn’t enough. Wouldn’t be enough until Oscar gave him what he wanted.

And he wanted, God, he wanted.

“I, I.” He couldn’t form the right words, throat working uselessly. “Fuck, Oscar.”

“Shh,” Oscar said. “I’m calling him.”

“Oi. Osco.”

Carlos blinked muzzily. Hell. That was—Lando, stepping through the door. Carlos hadn’t even noticed the automatic lock click, so focussed he was on the three fingers spearing him open. But now all Carlos could hear were Lando’s footsteps, each one taking him closer to the bed.

“Lando,” Oscar said, deathly calm. “Glad you could make it.”

“You win one race and you think you can order me around—fuck.”

Carlos swallowed, his throat clicking. He couldn’t turn around to see what expression Lando was wearing. Couldn’t close his legs either. The surface of his skin felt as if it were on fire, all his shame on display. Oscar reached down, and tugged sharply on Carlos’s balls, and the whimper that slid out of him would haunt him for a long time.

“Oscar, what the fuck.” Said bewilderedly, but not uninterestedly.

The suggestive wonder in Lando’s voice had Carlos’s hole clamping down on Oscar’s fingers reflexively.

“Look at him,” Oscar said. “You just got here and he’s already gagging for it.”

“Oscar, again,” Lando said. “What the fuck?”

“Carlos needs someone to fuck him today,” Oscar said, as if they were discussing the weather. Or some produce at the supermarket. Look at this peach. Ripe and ready to eat. “Can’t be me though, right?”

A second ago Carlos couldn’t put together the jigsaw puzzle comprising of Lando’s face, while he looked at Carlos all spread out and leaking like a tap. But now, it slotted together, piece by perfect piece. Carlos sensed the moment Lando understood. The moment he accepted Oscar’s handshake over a chessboard.

“Right,” Lando said. “Can’t be you. Not after today.”

The silence that followed tore at Carlos, produced another whimper. Very different games from the ones he and Charles played. Maybe he’d just been driving in circles blind, this whole time, while everyone else made chess moves that far eclipsed the mid-field.

“Go on,” Oscar said. “He’s all ready and waiting for you.”

“Carlos?”

Almost sweet, the slight hesitation. Lando thinking to check, even while Oscar dangled Carlos in front of him, three fingers still thrusting in and out of Carlos as if he were a toy.

“Carlos,” Oscar cut in. The way they said his name was so unlike, wrapped in their own version of favour. “Tell Lando what you told me, just now. Tell him how much you want it.”

The order shot straight down his brainstem through his spine and into his dick. Carlos moaned, shifting desperately on his knees, thrusting his ass up higher. “Lando, please,” he said. “Please, fuck me.”

“Fucking Christ,” Lando said.

There was a muffled sound, skin on skin, with weight behind it. Lando shoving Oscar out of the way, tearing Oscar’s fingers unceremoniously out of Carlos. There came Oscar’s very bothered, unbothered scoff. Carlos wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry.

At least Lando was willing to tug his briefs down all the way, release Carlos’s cock which slapped against his stomach. He was so embarrassingly hard.

“He’s kept you waiting, huh, Carlos?” The thin veneer of gentleness made the hair on Carlos’s forearms stand. Had Lando ever crooned so softly at him? Carlos couldn’t remember. Back in his McLaren days, maybe. The orange stained them all differently.

“And you’re making him wait even more,” Oscar said.

Carlos would grumble, if he knew he could get away with it. So now Oscar’s impatient? Now that there’s someone else in the room to witness Carlos falling apart?

“Fuck off, Oscar,” Lando said, media-trained pleasantness turned on full blast. The click of the lube, the slow, slick sounds of Lando stroking himself. By the time Lando pressed into Carlos, Carlos would have remade himself waiting, he was sure of it. “I’m doing your work for you, in case you forgot.”

“You’re both,” Carlos rasped, unable to bear their catfight any longer, “children—”

The stretch was almost bearable, after how brutally Oscar had played with his hole. All the breath punched out of Carlos’s lungs. He moaned piteously, even as he did his best to shove himself back on Lando’s cock. Carlos could choke on them both; he had the appetite for it.

“Baby,” Lando cooed, “you feel so, so—”

“He feels good,” Oscar said. Can’t let Lando get one over him. “He’s always, always, so fucking tight.”

Oscar was never careless with his words. Never. Not even when he complained about Carlos in front of god and country. Always. He knew what Lando would think. Three chess moves ahead.

The prickle of indignation fell to the wayside when Lando started fucking him, harder than Carlos thought Lando would ever touch him. No gentleness or finesse. His cock was an uncompromising stab in Carlos. He felt it all the way up his belly, even to his throat. Aftershocks of when he had Oscar in him. Lando was trying to redo it all. Carlos didn’t know how to break it to him that used was used.

Lando slipped out, in haste or contemplation, Carlos couldn’t tell. Were they both looking at his abused hole? Or were they looking at each other? Carlos’s mind was coming up blank.

Lando fucked back into him, finding his prostate, and Carlos cried out. Scratched at the bed thoughtlessly. He wasn’t holding himself up; he was barely holding on. Lando’s hands were wrapped around his hips, digging in bruises that Carlos would feel all the way to the next race. His cock dribbled pre, a mess on his stomach and the sheets.

“Oscar,” Carlos said.

He flinched when Lando smacked him on the thigh, hard. At a better time, Carlos would tell them they were two sides of the same coin. “I’m the one fucking you,” he said.

“He can’t come unless I say so,” Oscar said, voice dipped in satisfaction. “You want to, Carlos?”

“Yes,” Carlos gasped. “Yes, fuck, I want.”

“Ask for it,” Oscar said. “Go on, baby.”

Never a mistake. Carlos tossed his head, whined his displeasure. Lando was splitting him open and it still seemed as if Oscar had Carlos fit into the palm of his hand. Lando was going to see Carlos begging for it. That had been the plan from the very start.

Lando was silent. Carlos couldn’t be. No self-preservation left, worn down to the quick.

“Please,” Carlos sobbed. “Please, please, please, Oscar, please—”

Oscar’s hand found his wet, desperate cock, stroked him to the time of Lando’s increasingly irregular thrusts. “Good,” he said. “You can come, Carlos. You’ve worked for it.”

Carlos shook, every muscle tensing up, before thawing like melted butter. He came, mind wiped clean from the pleasure and the shame. Sparks rewiring him from the inside out. He fell forward, and there was Oscar’s arm, supporting him against the dull weight of Lando on his back. He twitched, moaned, mouth rising and falling in pleading shapes.

“Good,” Oscar said again.

“You can leave now,” Oscar was saying to Lando.

Carlos’s eyes were barely open. There was an arm around him, stroking his shoulder with a gentleness completely lacking before. Whose arm was it? Carlos couldn’t give a damn.

“Or shower, if you want, whatever. I don’t care.”

Don’t let him play you like that, Carlos wanted to say, but his tongue was too thick in his mouth. And anyway, he should probably take his own advice, before giving it. Carlos leaned into the doting hand with a sigh. He was sore everywhere a body could be sore.

The last thing he knew before falling, was the soft, apologetic press of lips against his. Slightly chapped, smelling of that godawful Papaw lip balm. In the far, faraway background, the sounds of the shower started. Someone murmured his name. But Carlos was too tired. They could continue this in the morning.

#athy texts #fanfic #rpf #carcar #carlandoscar #rated e #set after hungary gp 2024 #i wrote this entirely to silver springs #while picturing on a loop stevie nicks staring her ex down and singing #and i said to myself #there is no way this will turn out rancid

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dazeddoodles · 4 months

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ASJKJGHFSAJK IS THAT RAINE!?!?

She will never be Raine to me

#with how much beef she has with eda and her kid #she might as well be her ex #shes a woman btw #giving butches a bad name #no witches thats why she gotta make out her snake #and take pictures of eda without her permission #asks

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shinebrightlikeanarwhal · 2 years

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Imagine Eddie meeting Steve high off his ass and just escaping a Russian facility.

Gay ass Eddie Munson getting booped by a giggly Steve ‘The King’ Harrington.

Disaster queer Eddie hauling ass with Steve nestled into his arms and snoring after passing out in the middle of their escape.

High off her ass Robin staring at Eddie and hissing that he hasn’t passed the test to earn Steve’s love.

Distressed Dustin and Erica desperately trying to survive with a disaster gay, a disaster lesbian and a milf.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #robin buckley #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #stranger things #stranger things imagine #just picture it #Eddie just trying to be a edgy rocker kid #only to wind up with a damsel in drugs and his three kids #steve only snapping out of it to tan Billy’s car away from his ex and his other kids before passing back out #lmao Billy doesn’t die because Steve rams a car into the mind flayer-#steddie

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soraviie · 1 year

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━ type: jungkook x gn! reader ━ navigation

━ about: a healthy splash of angst; reader is slightly older than Jungkook (also in denial) and he is a whole forest because there's just so much pine

━ requested by @manavi-meera (?) tumblr deleted your ask when I tried to write in it, all I saw was the gif :/

"Just think about it."

"It's Jungkook!"

"Yeah, it's Jungkook. So think about it."

"Hmm."

It's around when your foot is halfway across the threshold that Yoongi speaks again — just as somber as he'd begun the conversation. If, of course, one's ex-boyfriend turned best friend hurtling a bunch of mistruths and delusions at a completely oblivious and confused party of the other could be construed as a "conversation".

"Oh and ______________?"

You turn around, feeling some form of clammy fear sink its grimy talons around your gut the longer this stifled, awkward bout of silence drags on.

"Yeah?"

"Just...be kind. No matter what you do."

And because for some unknown reason a sudden knot appears at the base of your throat, you can't speak — without rhyme or reason it seems nigh impossible to utter a single word so you nod. Nod and leave Yoongi to sit in his studio alone and with that disconcerting glimmer in his eye.

Jungkook liking you — one has to laugh!

“Old man has to be checked for dementia,” you grouse to yourself, the only thing hearing your discontent being the darkness of the emptied hallway.

The thought! The absolute gall!

Jungkook liking you…

It’s — it's ridiculous!

But because of one nosey little fucker, the idea has been planted in your head now and like an invasive species of flora, it refuses to leave your gardens alone.

You try to imagine, you give it an honest, good effort but even now, after all these years what you see before your eyes when thinking of Jungkook are those big, wet eyes. It doesn’t matter how many tattoos and piercings he adorns himself with, how many bikes he drives through the night in the name of the thrill, none of it matters — to you he’s just a gangly kid, always turning his face away so you don’t see the nearly constant state of panic reflected in his features.

What Yoongi has been smoking you have no idea, frankly you certainly don’t want to try it if it causes this sort of brain damage.

Jungkook yearning for you.

Yearning. Just hearing that word bounce back in your skull makes you scoff. Yearning was for torrid love affairs and sentimental romance books; no one in real life yearned. Who could possibly have the time?

Grab your jacket —> go home —> forget this ever happened —> maybe share a demure chuckle or two with Yoongi five years laters, because obviously he’d be embarrassed about being this wrong about something but the plan is fucked.

It’s fucked because big, brown eyes are staring right back at you, as you round the corner into the wardrobe and more importantly they’re holding your jacket. Well, his hands, not the eyes. Eyes couldn’t hold things.

“Welcome back,” Jungkook outstretches the jacket towards you, his voice rumbling low in the chest. It’s usually a pleasant hum but because of Yoongi you cannot help but wonder whether it’s a pleased hum as well. “Why didn’t you tell me you're stopping by?”

Had it been just yesterday you would have punched his arm, rolled your eyes and annoyed the ever loving shit out of him, saying he’s not your boyfriend — you don’t owe him to know when and where you’re coming and going but it’s today and suddenly merely touching him feels excruciatingly awkward.

“Must have slipped my mind,” you mutter, struggling to put the jacket on. A faint wrinkle of discontent worms its way in the space between his eyebrows. Frustration rises and he outstretches himself to help you — out of instinct, out of annoyance? — you're not quite sure, before it never crossed your mind to ponder about it. However, now that you do your legs take an automated step back and Jungkook's hands after a second of lingering contemplatively into the air, half reached out towards you drop back to his thighs — unassuming and still.

"Something wrong?" he asks, inclining his head to the side and why....

...why is it sort of cute?

Cute in a very Jungkook way but not in a usual Jungkook way because usually he was like a little brother you never wanted and...

"__________________?"

...and you're spiralling.

"Yeah?" you blink down on him and the frown on his face deepens.

"You're a bit," jerkily, he waves his fingers around. "Out of it."

"You're like a brother to me, right?"

You didn't mean for it to come out as a question but it is now and it's terrifying. It's terrifying because Yoongi was right. Jungkook's not laughing or scoffing or even acting annoyed or offended by this familiarity. Rather there's this ashen film covering his face and the longer his gaze flits anxiously from one spot to another — anywhere but your own persona — the more you understand.

He'd thrust his heart into your awkward hands and now you're simply horrified to even hold it with more pressure — what if it breaks, what if you hurt it in anyway? It feels more like an injured bird than a heart — any wrong move and you would do something that would weigh down on you for the rest of the remaining days.

It's your turn to call out his name and echoing the same confused, absent-minded state you're in, he hums at the mention of his name, eyes hazy and teeth gnawing on his lip.

"I mean I always thought we're...friends, you know?"

"You're still—"

"I'm not little anymore."

For a second he gains a new sort of resolution - the hazy veil in his eyes is traded for something more steel like and his spine straightens just for a second befoer he collapses into himself, muttering with no small amount of bitterness:

"I'm not a kid, ___________, and you're not that much older than me."

"I know it's just," there is an ill-willing sense of a migraine coming on - you could feel it into the tepid albeit painful tension sitting at the base of your neck. "I guess it's just hard to shake off first impressions, Koo."

He gives an ugly sort of snort — a bit bitter, a bit self-depreciating — and you swear there is a "don't I know it" under his breath, grumbled in a tone that implies it's something of an inside joke with himself.

You wonder what it means.

"I'll walk you home," he suddenly utters, jumping up from the seat. Was he always such a beefcake? Your stare lingers just a touch too long and now that the proverbial scales had been ripped off your eyes you fully grasp how he preens underneath this crumb of attention.

It brings back the awkward feel in your hands — like holding something too small and too precious while walking across a tightrope.

"I didn't ask—"

"Tough shit," he throws over his shoulder, already walking away, pretending to be all cool.

"When did you get so commanding?" you grouse, rushing to keep up with him. It's a bit easier to breathe for now, here in the desolate hallway of HYBE's lower wardrobess, things have for now returned to normal and you revel in that fact though in the back of your mind you know things are soon to change. Conversations will be had and secrets will be spiilled, be it for better or worse. You know it and Jungkook knows it but for now you both pretend it's the same it used to be and bicker to your heart's delight.

"Spank me then."

"Fucking perv."

"Who do you think I learned it from?"

"From Namjoon's truly godless porn sites."

"I'm a good boy, I would never."

"Wipe that sly grin off your face and maybe I'll believe you."

send in a picture of the boys and I’ll write a scenario

#why did this turn out so messy lmaaaoooo #yoongi being the ex boyfriend whose aware of Jungkook's feelings #reader being awkward and scared #and older than Jungkook #and him pining for reader but clearly being insecure about the age thing and how being viewed as a kidd #this is some telenovela shit (T_T)#anyway I'm back baby #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts drabble #jungkook drabbles #file/picture series/jungkook

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lewlewlemon44 · 9 months

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The one you’re in with him? Lewis, what do you mean? Also we’re going to need some evidence of whatever you mean :)

#I love that he went from gay panic about small shit to admitting there’s a picture of him ass out with another man #and that a picture of an ex teammates ass is one of the greatest pictures he’s seen #lewis hamilton #lewis #video #valewis #4477

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hadesknockedupintheunderworld · 1 month

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Okay hear me out hear me out hear me out

Sonic who's litho and Tails who's demi

(Sort of headcanons/thoughts/au musing under the cut)

ㅤ

Tails coming to terms with his desires regarding his best friend, wishing to hold and to be held, to kiss and to be kiss, to take care of and to be taken care of, to share as many domestic moments as one can, to take a shared adventure for the fun of it, to be intimate in a way only lovers could be, right?

And that's where the subtle horror lies in the slow realization of feelings.

To want to be like someone and to admire them is one thing. To want to be someone's friend is one thing. To want to stick with one person you like is one thing.

But to love and desire someone in that way is another.

Tails has kept watch over Sonic's relationships. He's known him long enough to spot trends in how Sonic acts. The rules, so to speak

Sonic always makes the first move. When others express interest in him (depending on the nature of the interest or how obsessive) he preens at the praise at best, treating this person like a fan, and runs away or his expression betrays his uncomfortableness/disgust at worse. This means Sonic has to be interested in you first.

Whether he even realizes the attraction himself or not, Sonic tends to start a bit strong, but this is because of his usual target (people who are able to match or challenge him in a fight). Even if the other person seems uninterested, he has no problem flirting and teasing a bit during altercations

Sonic's romantic relationships never last longer than a year at best

As one can see, the rules are a bit stacked against him to start (at least, from Tails' pov). He's Sonic's best friend and, while they do fight sometimes, that kind of role is hardly comparable to a rival or an archenemy. Sonic gets a specific look in his eyes when engaged in an interesting battle, banter rolls off his tongue like honey. He never gets like this towards Tails. There's no situation (whether during a shared battle or in his lab or when they're just hanging out together) where Sonic looks at him with that level of interest (at least, from Tails' pov).

Of course, Tails wouldn't want to be Sonic's rival anyways (best friend is the kind of role younger him had always coveted), but it doesn't mean he can't be a little jealous...

And of course Tails knows Sonic cares about him, appreciates him. That's never really been in question either.

It's just, in the end, even if his wildest dreams came true—if he confessed his feelings, Sonic reciprocated, they started dating and it didn't ruin their best frienship—how would it then pan out? In the end, whether Sonic would return his feelings is the least of his worries!

Because Tails has seen what happens.

One of Sonic’s rivals, for example. Before they got together, Sonic enjoyed teasing and flirting with them casually. And at the beginning of their relationship, they would race each other often (perhaps more often than they had before). It was their favorite form of date—to have a "friendly" competition, followed up by sunsets and dinner on the go. Really, they almost couldn't get enough of it. But then...things shifted. Sonic didn't enjoy racing them quite as much anymore. That passionate interest began to palpably fade, and the two began to disagree. Eventually, Sonic’s presence was more of a casual one. Tails could see that he enjoyed going out to eat with his ex and hanging out with them in general, but while that was all fine and good, his ex hadn't lost that passion. So with every poke and prodding and proposition for a race, Tails could see his ex become resentful in that Sonic didn't want to be this way with them as much as they used to. Eventually every "I don't feel like it" from Sonic turned into a fight ("when do you ever feel like it?" his ex would follow up with). In the end, Sonic’s ex is still fixated on him. While they wouldn't admit it, they want Sonic’s attention back. Even without being romantic partners, they still cling to rivalhood, challenging Sonic and showing off whenever they can. But Sonic... He doesn't take it so well. Someone who was once a rival and partner to him is now an annoyance—just another person too obsessed with him. They're still fixated on Sonic, but Tails knows Sonic would be happy if they gave it up. That relationship can never be the same again.

Sonic even had a childhood friend once—his very first relationship like that. Not that they're not friends anymore, but things are different now. There was a time where Sonic traded banter with this person often, those who knew them would remark how they fought like a married couple, and they saw the looks they'd shoot each other when the other wasn't looking. It only seemed natural to onlookers that these two would get together, and yet...it took some time. Sonic would be jealous when others pursued that person, and yet, for a while, whenever they pursued him or it seemed the perfect moment to confess, he'd run. For a long while when anyone (even Tails) would ask why he wasn't dating anyone, he would just answer that he didn't want to be tied down. But he eventually gave in, decided he had no choice but to confess his feelings, and (as everyone knew would happen) these feelings were reciprocated. In fact, a number of people even though the two had been dating for years before that. But...things didn't stay all sunshine and rainbows for long. The relationship ended with a (literal) slap in the face for his best friend. The two's interests and futures had grown apart, and even love couldn't change Sonic's nature. In the end of it, he still wanted to be a free spirit, a magnet for danger, a hero to the masses. Just like with that rival of his, though the relationship was seemingly passionate at first, Sonic couldn't sustain those feelings. Sonic's partner wanted someone for life, wanted him to choose their projected future, wanted to keep him out of such great danger. The fact that Sonic seemed to be losing those kind of feelings and interest he'd had when their relationship began was perhaps one of the final straws. And although Sonic and this ex partner are still friends these days, have mended their friendship, their relationship has never been the same again. Even Tails can see that they're friends, but they no longer share that banter, Sonic no longer concerns himself over that person's love life (he's more supportive than anything), and they don't spend quite so much time around each other anymore.

So this is what it comes down to. Even if Sonic does love him back in that way, even if Sonic wants to be with him too, even if he agrees to enter that kind of relationship with him, what use is there in hoping he (Tails) would be an exception to the rules?

What if things are amazing at first, and then over time Sonic begins to lose interest in him? What if those feelings disappear? What if getting together with Sonic ruins their best friendship because all interest has faded away?

What if Tails confesses only to end up as an ex who is a casual friend at best or an annoyance at worst (because Tails knows getting over Sonic would be near impossible)? Then it would be all his (Tails') fault, wouldn't it?

And that's exactly why he figures it's best to leave things as is. As long as he can stay best friends with him, as long as he can still be by Sonic's side through thick and thin, as long as they can still care for each other and be for each other as they are now, that's enough isn't it? In the end, Tails would choose a future where he's still at Sonic's side over having his feelings requited.

ㅤ

As for Sonic, it does, admittedly, take a while for him to sort of realize those feelings of his. This is partially due to him being dense, but also because he's grown so used to Tails' presence. He's just used to the fact that Tails is always around, always able to be contacted, that the days are largely similar. It just never really occurred to him for a while that Tails could (or would) leave him for any reason.

But after enough times being separated from him completely, then dealing with enough minor jealousy as Tails expresses possible interest in others, it sort of just hits him one day while the two are hanging out (probably playing video games and eating chili dogs or something, or perhaps even while watching a sunset) that he wants to do this forever. He wants to continue this life where he can pull Tails along on adventures and crash at his place and relax with him and bust badniks with him and everything.

Long ago, back when he'd first met Tails, there was this bit of nagging fear in him. Even as he eventually would come to regard Tails as his best friend, for the longest time there was this nagging fear that Tails' admiration and wish to stick to his side would become...something else, and that Sonic would have to confront it one day, potentially risking their relationship.

It's almost weird now thinking that he truly wouldn't oppose the idea of Tails confessing to him (if Tails does indeed feel the same, but Sonic doesn't know for sure). Perhaps it wouldn't be bad (even if cheesy) to live out a fantasy of the first kiss, where Tails confesses and Sonic tenderly steals it...

But pretty soon a new kind of horror sets in—a new "what if".

Because, you see, though he can still count the number of exes on his fingers, Sonic has never had a relationship like that last more than a year. Things always start out great! All Sonic wants to do is be around this person as much as he can be, and that person shares the sentiment. But then as Sonic finally settles in, tension eventually follows. That person becomes increasingly more frustrated in him, and Sonic himself comes to realize that he no longer wants to spend every waking moment with them. He's busy, he has things he wants to do (sometimes alone), other people he wants to hang out with. He doesn't mean to leave this person in the dust, he's just not quite as interested in them as he used to be. And apparently that's a problem

Sonic has never cheated, not once. Maybe he can be a bit of an ass sometimes, but messing around with other people while he has a partner is not his thing. But...this doesn't matter either. Eventually the accusations come—that he doesn’t love them anymore (not true), that he isn't as interested in them anymore (something he can't really refute once he starts to think about it), that he's probably looking at other people (not true).

So inevitably, Sonic can no longer take the tension and facilitates the breakup, or this person breaks up with him (an event that's never better than bittersweet)

In short, that obsession that attraction that attachment—it all begins to fade eventually, no matter how close he is with that person. He often doesn't want to just break up with them (again, just because those feeling start to fade doesn't mean he doesn't love them or cares about them less), but it's an inevitability. People logically want to be with someone who loves them just as much as they do in the same way that they do, and Sonic just...can't seem to live up to that.

If he and Tails started a romantic and/or sexual relationship, could he even place hope in the fact that Tails would be the exception? He knows in his soul that even if these feelings of his began to change or his interest in this way began to fade, he'd never just stop loving or caring about Tails altogether. Best friend or partner in romance, Sonic knows he'd still want him at his side.

But with his track record, who could guarantee that Tails wouldn't grow resentful of him too as things began to change (compared to the very start of that kind of relationship)? And would he really be able to blame Tails? After all, most people want someone who will be just as interested in them as they are in the same way that they are. If Sonic can't always promise that, then isn't it doomed from the start as it always is?

Not that he's never had thoughts such as these before, but in his last relationships (since those people seemed to be cut from similar cloths as him personality wise) he'd been willing to take the risk in hope things would be different. But he doesn't want to lose Tails—can't. What would be the point of solidifying a relationship like that with Tails if he lost his best friend in the process? At that point, it would be all his (Sonic's) fault, since he knew this would probably happen.

So this is why Sonic decides it's best to leave things as they are. As long as he can still crash at Tails' place, come to him for strategical or technological advice, take him along on adventures, bust badniks with him, play video games with him, be his best friend and have him by his side, isn't that better? Isn't that enough? In the end, Sonic would rather take the future as it comes (deal with the possibility of Tails leaving him one day) and get to have him by his side now than have his feelings requited.

ㅤ

But I'd like to imagine that, one day, the two can't ignore the whatever it is going on between them. The moment is scary, and admitting those feelings doesn't bring as much relief to either of them as it should. They're both apprehensive about starting that kind of relationship for their own reasons. Should they really "get together" simply because the feelings are mutual?

And so starts this weird gray period of the nature of their relationship. They're still best friends for sure, but neither has decided they want to be in a declared state of "dating". If anything, at first it seems like the two have gone right back to trying to exist like normal (business as usual), hang out like they always do, treat each other like they always did before. The only difference in this case is that the feelings are requited now.

But things begin to shift and change during this gray period no matter how hard they try. The two end up sharing their first kisses, every interaction carries a bit of a different weight than before. If it's even possible, more than before people mistake them for a couple, especially their friends (who can't really understand why they're not, even if they try to be supportive for the most part).

And yet, while feelings, their actions, etc seem to make everything undeniable (as if they're dating all but officially in name), Sonic can feel it come on. He can see the signs, recognize that those once undeniable feelings of attraction (romantic or otherwise) is beginning to fade away, meaning that it's only a matter of time.

Meaning that the last thing they should do is "get together" now, because Sonic can't promise Tails those feelings that were so strong before.

And Tails realizes it too. It actually scares him a bit at first, already seeing the signs. He can't help but fear that it's inevitable—that Sonic will lose all interest in him and grow apart from him. It makes him feel like an idiot. Even if back then there was no way to keep those feelings between them wrapped up and hidden, he feels like an idiot for confessing at all—like he should have found some other path. This whole thing, it makes him want to cling to Sonic even more, though he fears making this all worse by being too clingy...

But, fear aside, things do turn out okay.

I'd like to think that one day they wake up in Tails bed together, Sonic brushes Tails' bangs aside, gazing at the fox's expression before he opens his eyes, and feels that though his feelings have undeniably changed, it's just that. Though those kinds of feelings began to fade away, his love did not. More than ever, even though he doesn't love Tails in the same way he did a while ago, or even before he came to feel for him romantically, he cares for him so so deeply. He still wants Tails to be with him going forward.

And yes Tails sees it—the way Sonic has grown more casual, doesn't seek out kisses as much, isn't quite as clingy as he used to be—but his fear begins to let up as well. While he will perhaps keep that nagging fear of Sonic leaving him forever, even Tails comes to see that Sonic has no intention of breaking their friendship. Where Tails once was afraid they'd naturally grow apart and bitter as Sonic's feelings faded and Tails would be clingy by comparison, he sees that Sonic's feelings haven't really faded—not truly. They've only just changed.

Things are undeniably different from before, but Sonic seems to want to be with him still. He still wants him by his side as much as he can have him. Though he's more casual in his expression of feelings, Sonic is still interested in what Tails has to say, he still enjoys making him happy. In fact, somehow, Tails almost suspects Sonic has begun to love him more than before despite the shift in their relationship and in Sonic's feelings.

They were both so afraid things would naturally end in failure, but they cared for each other, and they accepted each other as they were.

Maybe the two decide to officially become partners one day ("partners" in a way that elevates their existing partnership to a status which coveys that they want to live out their lives at each other side, no other types of feelings or actions or life choices inherently implied), perhaps because Sonic (despite not having those large feelings of romance anymore) still doesn't want Tails to choose anyone else but him

And maybe the two don't! Even if they don't label themselves as dating or in any type of partnership society and others recognize as "inherently stronger" than best friendship, they're still best friends and partners. They're still going to spend their lives together, happily doing the things they always do as long as the universe allows it. No matter who comes and goes into their lives, their bond is a constant presence.

In the end, it no longer matters whether Tails has romantic/sexual feelings and Sonic doesn’t, or whether they give themselves conventional labels or not, or whether other people can grasp their chosen relationship or not, or whether it's a "glorified best friendship", or anything else. All that matters is that despite the nature of any feelings involved, they choose to be together.

#sonic the hedgehog #sontails #unbreakable bond #tails the fox #miles tails prower #i just be ramblin #I kinda played a bit fast and loose with what canon it is here #tbh I was running off of an idea that kind of mixes game canon and idw canon and some archie canon #but largely with the example of Sonic's exes #in this case I went with Sonic/Jet (as I like to headcanon the two as being exes in idw just based on how the two act and Jet's picture of #himself with sonic torn out of the picture) and with Sonic/Sally #but yeah this is an interpretation of Sonic and Tails' feelings towards each other that is a bit dear to me #partially because I genuinely love to interpret a potential relationship between them as sort of a complicated one or qqp where Tails does #have romantic feelings and Sonic's aren't romantic but not wholly platonic either and with them being best friends on top of that #anddddd partially because I'm projecting my relationship with romance/sex onto sonic a bit #can't help it #Anyways by god I love them they make me insane the thoughts do not cease they mean everything *head in hands* Sonic and Tails #qqp #queerplatonic sontails

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