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inkchwe · 15 hours

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so high school | 𝖑𝖍𝖘

୨୧ pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 6.8k ୨୧ genre: fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: basketballplayer!heesung, nerd!reader, tutor!au, high school au, oral (f + m receiving), penetration (all characters are of age!), light choking ୨୧ synopsis: You and your boyfriend are complete opposites on paper—you, the girl hidden inside a book, and Heeseung, the star of the basketball team—but it feels so right every time you’re together.

Heeseung at the free-throw line, certain he will make the basket and win the championship, turns to look at you in the stands. The sounds of his coach, taunts from the opposing team, encouragement of his teammates, and commotion of the final game of the season all fade into the background. To him, all that matters besides the ball in his hands is you.

You, amongst the others in the crowd with their hearts in their mouths, have no fears for your boyfriend. The star player who’s going to make history has never given you doubts before in his talents. All you can do is smile, incredibly proud and incredulous at the thought that he is all yours and nobody else’s.

It’s almost unimaginable how the two of you found each other, coming from completely different worlds. But like all stories, similar to the ones you’ve read since childhood, the story of you and Heeseung has a clear beginning…

AUGUST

“Do you ever stop to—I don’t know—not read?” Jungwon asks, jotting down notes in his notebook.

You giggle and flip the page. “It’s the last book on Choi’s summer reading list. Besides,” you retort, looking directly at your best friend, “how else would I be able to read and still remember what you just said to me if I didn’t practice?”

“Fuck off.” You lightly knock his shoulder with yours.

Even though it was still very early in the school year, you still had a lot to concentrate on with the month coming to an end. Like the first novel Mrs. Choi selected on her extensive reading list. You planned to discuss it with the members of the school’s book club, your notes already tucked in your backpack for today’s Friday meeting.

Now, sitting with Jungwon in the hallway as you eat your lunch, your focus is solely on finishing the last fifty pages of the last book in the list Mrs. Choi created. Jungwon closes his notebook and gets up from his spot next to you. “Alright, I gotta head to Chem. I’ll see you after school!” With a wink, he runs down the hallway and disappears down the corner.

Who you don’t expect to pop up next to disturb the sudden quiet of the surrounding area is Lee Heeseung, star shooting guard for the school’s basketball team. You never spoke to him before, but his reputation and family’s legacy preceded him. His brother was the shooting guard for the team years ago, breaking numerous records before he graduated. Now, Heeseung’s definitely filling his brother’s shoes and then some.

As a person, however, you know nothing about the boy at all. This year, though, you shared the same English class with Mrs. Choi. She cared little for his extracurriculars or persona around campus; what mattered to her was the effort of her students and the quality of the classwork.

Heeseung passes you by on his way towards his destination, not sparing a glance. You sit attentively as he knocks on Mrs. Choi’s classroom door.

She answers after a moment, a somber smile on her lips. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lee?”

He clears his throat and asks her, “You saw my message and I—“

“I am aware, Mr. Lee. My response still stands. Is there something else you need?” Mrs. Choi sees you out of the corner of her eye, but she doesn’t acknowledge your snooping.

“I will do anything to correct my last assignment. Please,” Heeseung begs.

“Mr. Lee, the cutoff for submissions was last week. I’m sorry, but your grade is final.” She sighs and looks at her watch.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring it up before the first game?” Heeseung asks, his voice growing thin from his frustration. He’s not rude, but clearly disappointed he isn’t getting his way with his big eyes and pleading words.

“How about this? I’ll tell Coach Sung you’re working on a paired project to make up the grade.”

“Perfect.” Heeseung breathes a sigh of relief before he takes in the rest of her sentence. “Wait, who’s my partner?”

Mrs. Choi extends her arm out to point in your direction. Immediately, you want to tuck yourself in your book and hide. You did not intend for your interest in their conversation to put you right in the middle of it, and now you wish you hadn’t feigned curiosity at all.

“She’s one of my best students, so you’re in great hands.” She turns her head so both you and Heeseung can hear her. “I’ll send both of you the information for the project later today.”

You didn’t notice Heeseung had kept his focus on you until you broke your stare-off with Mrs. Choi. Her lips are upturned in a secret smirk when you turn your attention to him.

Heeseung isn’t bad to look at, the definition of his muscles peeking out of his shirt in multiple places and his brown hair falling into his face. Each piece of his physical being represents the epitome of a Greek god’s form. But the fact neither of you had ever interacted up to this point is what scares you more than his intimidatingly good looks.

When Mrs. Choi gently closes the door, Heeseung awkwardly walks over to your position, towering over you. Ironically, his presence physically embodies your feelings towards him, this stranger now being shoved into your life.

“I’m Heeseung.”

You give him a close-lipped smile and extend your hand out to him, your name leaving your lips immediately. Displaying fake confidence, you hope he can’t tell how terrified you are.

His eyes brighten when his hand touches yours. You stand up, hand still in his, and the feeling of his palm against yours causes you to fumble your next words. “S-so I guess I should give you my number. I mean so once we get the assignment—“

Heeseung smirks. “Usually girls flirt a little more before asking for my number.”

You scoff and tuck your book closer. “I was offering to give you mine, actually. For educational purposes.”

The noise of his laughter fills the small corridor. “Right.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly feeling annoyance creeping under your skin. “Well, if it’s that hard to swap information, you can find me after school in the library.” You walk away, but Heeseung follows quickly behind.

“I have practice once the last bell rings.”

You look at him with serious eyes, not bothering to stop your stride towards the stairs. “Tell Coach you can’t make it.”

“Are you nuts?” Heeseung says, eyes wide.

You smirk. “You have to get your grade up to play, right?”

You watch the clock in the library with scrutiny. Members of the book club have been gone for half an hour, but you chose to stay behind. School let out an hour ago, and yet you’re still holding out hope Heeseung will come. But every minute that goes by proves you have to face facts: you’re now forced to collaborate with a stereotypical jock.

Mr. Kim, the head librarian, puts the disorganized books on the shelves as you tap your pencil on the table. “Waiting for someone? You don’t usually stick around this late,” Mr. Kim says with a smile.

You grin back, the sentiment not reaching your eyes. “You could say that.”

After another ten minutes of silence, you give up. You begin packing up your belongings, shaking your head and mumbling to yourself the entire time. Curse your interest in the guy and his lack of care for his academics. No wonder his grade was in the tank already. What was the point of athletics if he didn’t have other prospects to fall back on?

Just as you’re walking out of the library, Heeseung runs into you. Sweat’s dripping from his forehead and his breaths are labored. Clearly, he chose basketball over your project. You want to punch him for putting you both in this position.

“I swear I was going to blow off practice,” Heeseung says, but he can see your doubt in his words on your face.

“Sure. How about this? Figure out how to do the project on your own.” You press your body into his to push him out of your way. He follows in suit and rubs the spot you shoved, pretending to be wounded.

It only fuels your ire. You’ve only spoken to the jerk twice and you’re already tired of him treating every word you say and feeling you have like a joke. “Is failing that amusing to you?”

Heeseung’s expression immediately goes cold. “I’m not failing.”

“Sure. So Choi’s just doing this to torture you.”

He weighs his response in his mind before answering. “I may not be perfect, but Choi is really hard on grading.”

“That first assignment was just about what your future looks like after high school.” You push your backpack over your arm. “Excuse her for thinking you had plans outside of throwing a ball around a field.”

That laugh of his may just be the end of your life. He chuckles hard and puts a hand out to stop you. “First of all, that’s football.” He tries to make you look at him directly, but you refuse, too angry to give into what he wants.

He continues anyway. “Second, basketball is my life. Past, present, future, okay? Without it, I don’t even know where I’d be.”

His voice is sincere, more honest than it’s been before. Regardless, your understanding and disappointment is evident. “Don’t you think that that’s the problem?”

“It hasn’t been one before. Suddenly I say it out loud and it’s an issue?” Heeseung’s voice raises a decibel, clearly agitated and back to his cold exterior.

If he wants to fight about this, you’re game.

“No,” you say, matching his vocal level. “The issue is that your focus is solely on basketball when there’s more important things in life than a dumbass court and sweaty guys trying to make touchdowns.”

“You’re mixing up your sports analogies, angel.” Heeseung steps closer, testing your boundaries. Your chest heaves up and down, your breath labored. You may just slap him if he gets closer.

“You know what I mean.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” A fraction of his expression slips. His eyes challenge you in both irritation and anxiety. The bravado’s merely a mask for the fear that he’ll lose the one thing he wants the most in this world. And did you have it in you to be the reason he couldn’t have it?

You sigh and rub your palm across your forehead. “Tomorrow, meet me at the marketside pier. 8 AM. Take it or leave it.”

He releases a humorless chuckle. “You’re not gonna make this easy are you?”

“Not on your life.”

Heeseung is there at one of the pier’s wooden picnic tables with his materials sprawled out when you arrive at 7:45. You weren’t expecting for him to be there on time, much less earlier than you. The sun reflects off of his hair, turning the brown curls almost orange. Like the first time you saw him, you can’t help but be reminded that he is painstakingly attractive.

You give him a shy smile and put your backpack down next to you.

“I can tell you’re surprised,” Heeseung says with a small smile.

“A bit, yeah.” You unzip your bag to grab your English textbook. “I thought on the weekends you typically do…’fitness stuff.’” He laughs at your air quotes.

“Well, to be honest, I wake up at 6 AM every morning for drills with my dad.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wow.”

“Yeah. Like you said, my sole focus is on that damn ball,” Heeseung says, opening his own textbook. “But I want to change that.”

“So you can keep playing,” you remind him, teasing the poor guy.

“Half true,” Heeseung says. “But I shouldn’t have left you hanging, yesterday.”

You nod. “I appreciate your apology.” You grab a pencil from your bag, pushing on the eraser until the lead pops up. “And I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. You have to be good at stuff besides basketball, even if it’s not studying.”

“Hey! I’m doing well in all my other classes, thank you very much.” You both share a minute of laughter. “But, to be honest, I do like to sing.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Troy Bolton.”

“For real! One day, I’ll take you to karaoke. I won’t make fun of you if you can’t keep up with me.”

“Okay, we’ll see.” You direct his focus back on to the page. “Now, onto Shakespeare.”

SEPTEMBER

Although Heeseung took his sweet, laborious time to translate and understand Shakespeare’s old English, the project went off without a hitch. Mrs. Choi was even surprised herself, in disbelief you pulled such an expansive and well-thought analysis out of the quintessential jock.

Now, it seemed the best next step to keep Heeseung on the right track was to sit him right next to you. Your initial partnership continued to benefit him in both his success in English and focus on academics, possibly for the first time in his high school career.

Better than that, he may have found a new friend in you that he wouldn’t have had otherwise.

By the end of one Tuesday class, Heeseung asks you to have lunch with him and his friends, a request that makes your previous seating buddy in English, Yujin, freak out.

Both her and Jungwon corner you on your way out when you tell them the news.

“No fucking way,” she whispers excitedly, slapping you on the back with vigor.

“That hurt,” you moan.

“Are you prepared?” Jungwon asks, smirking.

“Prepared for what?”

“The lion’s den, dude! You’re gonna be with not just his douche friends, but also the cheerleaders, other sports players…be prepared for the worst,” Jungwon grumbles.

“Oh shut up, Won!” Yujin threatens to hit him too, but he retracts. “Have fun on your pseudo first date.”

“It’s not a date!”

By the time lunch comes around, you hold yours with shaky hands, searching the lunch courtyard for the jock’s table. You usually sat with Jungwon or Yujin in the hallway of the English department to eat. Now, you’re a small fish in a big pond, waiting to be eaten alive.

Was it, in fact, a date, like your friends hypothesized? Did you have to try and impress Heeseung more than normal? Did you want Heeseung to take you on a date, real or fake, to begin with?

"Hey!"

Heeseung waves you over with a confident but over-exaggerated arm, flapping it wildly so you notice. He didn't need to do that, though; you could pick out his voice in any crowd.

You walk over with a smile and sit down, feeling small next to the strangers you had not met until this moment. The basketball team's not unwelcome, but they are awkward at your sudden presence at their usual lunch table, even if Heeseung made it known beforehand that you would be hanging out with them to eat.

He says your name and introduces you to his friends. "And that's Sunghoon, Jeongsong, and Jaeyun." You recognize the last two, Jay and Jake. Jake, the strikingly blonde one, has Chemistry with you this year. He smiles and tips his soda can at you in acknowledgement.

"Hee was telling us you’ve been saving him this term in English. Choi can be a pain in the ass, am I right?" Sunghoon and Jeongsong share a laugh, but you bristle at the comment.

"Not really," you say. "Choi sponsors my book club, so we have a good relationship. I think that's why she wanted me to whip Heeseung into shape in the first place." You elbow Heeseung in the side, and he grins in response.

"She's probably right."

"Book club kid, huh?" Jake asks. "Haven't been one of those since elementary school."

Jake's comments make the entire team laugh. Your cheeks turn pink and Heeseung takes a sip from his drink, his posture stiffening in the process.

"It's not a bad thing though," Jake interjects amidst their laughter. "Books are fun."

"A bit nerdy, though," Sunghoon comments.

A girl next to Sunghoon smacks him hard in the arm, but he just pokes his tongue at her.

Your anxiety spikes sitting there with all of these people, your gut feelings a reminder that they’re all a part of Heeseung’s world, not yours.

You clear your throat and stand up from the table. “I forgot to say, Hee, I have to do something for Choi anyway.” Heeseung’s face turns down at the corners. The only audible response you receive is from Jay and Sunghoon in the form of snickers.

”Run along, pet,” Sunghoon comments with a smirk.

You hope your eyes give the offense you won’t bother saying out loud. Fuck off, asshole.

When you make it to your usual lunch spot, Yujin and Jungwon are surprised to see you walking down the hallway.

”What happened?” Yujin asks.

”Exactly what Won said was going to happen,” you confess, sitting down in a criss-cross position beside her. “Now give me your chips.”

When the end of the day comes around, Heeseung catches you on your usual trek to the bus. “You’re forgiven, by the way.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What did I do?”

”You left me alone with my shithead teammates! I needed you there for backup, y’know.” He smirks and grabs your backpack from your shoulder to put around his arm. “I’m sorry about them. Sunghoon, mostly.”

”Can’t believe you’re friends with that guy,” you mumble.

”He’s the only one who I’m not friends with, truthfully. The others are cool. They’re just not used to new people.”

”I never would have guessed.”

Heeseung’s laugh is hearty, with a dazzling smile to match. You can almost forget the heap of embarrassment you felt earlier when you look at him like this, carefree and youthful.

“Anyway, let me give you a ride,” he offers, pointing to the senior parking lot. His car is freshly washed, its coat of paint identical to the school’s colors of blue with silver accents.

”What will your friends say?” you ask with a fake gasp.

”Fuck them. Besides, you’re also one of my friends. Now let’s go.” He takes your hand to walk in the direction of his car, not releasing your palm until you’re at his passenger side door.

As you give him directions, your mind goes back to the labels you had been running through in your mind all day. Were you Heeseung’s friend? Yes. Did you want to be more? Surely he didn’t just ask anyone to have lunch with him and his friends if he didn’t have other intentions, right? So, in that case, did yours match his?

A part of you wants to say yes, but the rational piece keeps you in check. It’s ridiculous to expect more than a friendship. How could you when it was so obvious your worlds were so far from each other, your friendship a simple fluke? You were grateful for his presence in your life, knowing without him it would be a bit darker, but would it last?

Yet here you were. Sitting happily in his car, hair blowing in the wind as his thumb grazes the outside of your hand, you try to enjoy all the time you do have together.

OCTOBER

”This is ridiculous!”

”Come on, just try it!”

”When did I ever say I was good at sports?” You groan, holding the ball in your hands with nervous fingers. The basketball court at your local park is occupied only by you and Heeseung, but it feels as though there’s a thousand people in the metal stands watching you, waiting for you to mess up.

”You said if I passed the last test you would let me show you how to make a free throw.” Heeseung has his hands in his pockets, his letterman jacket flapping in the autumn wind.

“If I suck at this, you’re never going to talk to me again. Just watch.” You try to dribble the ball across the court, but it falls between your legs before you can travel any further.

Heeseung puts his face behind his hand, clearly chuckling to himself. You scoff at him and the response you saw coming the second he put the ball in your hands. “See? I told you you would think I’m embarrassing!”

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just cute, that’s all.”

”’Cute’ is probably the nicest way you could say I’m embarrassing.” You kick the basketball in his direction. He catches it without any effort, his face still shaped in a state of enjoyment.

”I said cute because I meant cute, you dork.” He steps to the free-throw line and motions for you to join him. You do, grumbling and grunting the entire way.

”Now, you have to relax. The only way you have half a shot at making the basket is if you stop tensing up.” He hands you the ball again and steps behind you.

He puts his hands on your hips. his palms soft against your hoodie. You can practically feel the heat of his skin through the material of your clothing, and you hope he can’t tell how much your heartbeat has spiked from him being so close to you.

”Next thing is to bend your knees. They can’t be locked up.” You listen to his words, trying not to focus on how his body is making yours react. You may be imagining it, but even his voice sounds a bit breathless from the small distance between yourself and him.

His lips are ghosting over your ear when he says, ”Now shoot.”

You release the ball from your hands, hoping the angle of your throw and Heeseung’s directions will prove you’re partially competent.

And sure enough, the basket makes it in a single whoosh. You turn in Heeseung’s grasp, releasing a happy cheer. “That was amazing!”

You feel the rush of the shot in your veins, but suddenly the only thing that makes your body hum in pleasure is the sudden crash of Heeseung’s lips against yours.

Unsure how to react, you stand there frozen in place as his mouth moves on its own accord. But slowly, surely, happily, you fall deeply into his embrace. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and feel the press of his tongue against your mouth, begging for entrance.

You comply, letting the feeling of him and the thrill of this private moment in both of your worlds fill you to the brim with quiet pleasure and happiness.

[LHS] Can we talk, please?

[LHS] Did I do something wrong??

[LHS] IDC if you don’t respond. I’ll keep texting until you say something…

[LHS] Don’t leave me hanging :(

You sigh and throw your phone to the other side of the bed, tucking your comforter closer to your chest. Deciding to stay home from school was probably not the best way to handle your problems, but just because you’re smart doesn’t mean you’re sensible all the time.

This weekend’s excursion with Heeseung was beautiful, no doubt. But the fears continued to creep in with little regard for how happy he made you that day or all the days that came before it. Would how he felt about you last any longer than his basketball season? Did he entertain this simply for the fact that it was entertainment and nothing more?

The thoughts had been too much when you said goodbye to him on your doorstep with another hasty, giddy kiss and all the hours following it. Maybe you were self-sabotaging, but it was better to manage expectations now than be crushed in the aftermath.

When Yujin calls you during lunch, you have half a mind to ignore it. You answer anyway to avoid your friends thinking something drastic happened.

”Hello,” you mumble, the effects of your late morning nap hitting you.

”Dude, Heeseung’s on a tear today. He even asked Jungwon where you were, and I didn’t even think he knew the kid existed. What the hell happened on Saturday?”

Before you can respond, you hear the sound of your doorbell. “I gotta go. I’ll tell you later.” You hang up, hastily grabbing your fuzzy robe before running downstairs.

You don’t bother looking through the peephole to see who it is, but you curse yourself for not doing so when you’re confronted with Heeseung. He’s a sweaty and panting mess, but he doesn’t care for his appearance. His face morphs into relief when he sees you staring back at him.

”Thank God,” he says before stepping closer to you. He runs his hand over your forehead, frowning. “You’re not sick.”

You shake your head.

”So, you just ignore me all weekend and then don’t show up to school today?”

You sigh. “I didn’t know what to say when I saw you.”

He gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing. “So you chose not to see me at all? Was kissing me that terrible?

”No!” You run a frustrated hand through your hair, the spot in your hallway suddenly too cramped. You push him back outside and close the door behind you. “I don’t regret it at all. And I’d do it again if I could.”

Heeseung smirks at that, clearly happy with your response. “So, what’s the problem?”

”The problem is that when you get bored of me, things won’t go back to normal for me like they will for you, Hee. You may think this is a game but—“

Heeseung’s sudden laugh is marked with a bitterness. His eyes grow serious, so much so your words stop short because of his stone expression

”Do you think that little of me?”

Your body tenses at his words, unsure how to respond. You have never thought of him as lesser than once, not since getting to know him. But maybe only looking at your feelings regarding your relationship compromised his own in the process.

He steps closer, your faces an inch apart. “Two months ago, I didn’t realize how much my life was going to change because of you. All I thought about before was basketball. And now, you’re one of the only things outside of that damn game that matters to me. When I haven’t talked to you or seen you for too long it’s like there’s this rock in my gut that I can’t get rid of. I kissed you because I wanted to, not for fun or because it’s this momentary thing.

”So, if you still think I’m going to get bored of you in a few days or weeks or months, then you really aren’t as smart as I thought you were, angel. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Breathless would be too small of a word to describe how his speech affects you. You feel the same buzz of his kiss from a few days throughout your entire body from his words alone. It makes every worry and fear that has plagued you evaporate, replaced with his promises and all the reasons you should jump in headfirst without another thought.

So you do.

You kiss him hard, crashing into his lips and hoping all of the feelings he harbors reflect in the actions of your mouth. You hold onto him with your hands on his neck and the smoothness of your lips in a beautiful rhythm with each other.

Whatever happens next, you know there’s no turning back now.

NOVEMBER

“And Sim, our prime point-guard, passes to Lee. Lee has ten seconds to make another three pointer and win the game. Will he do it? Time to find out!” Kim Sunwoo screams into the microphone, broadcasting the highlights of the semi-final game to the many listeners not attending in-person.

Lucky for you, you have the perfect spot in the stands to watch Heeseung make the winning basket and lead the team to victory.

The crowd roars when your boyfriend secures the team’s spot in the championship game. His teammates lift him up above their heads and shoulders, chanting his name and holding him with all of their strength. Heeseung immediately searches the crowd for you, his excitement fueling his newfound focus.

When he does see you, clapping your hands and cheering with the rest of the bystanders, he kisses the inside of his palm and shoots it in your direction like he’s making another basket. Your heart squeezes at the gesture, but you only blush and wink.

Ever since that day on your doorstep, you can’t seem to separate yourself from him or the feelings he stirs up inside of you. The thought and reality of not seeing or hearing from him for too long immediately dampens your spirits, just like Heeseung described to you when he confessed. Jungwon calls you “lovesick fools” every time you both are in his presence, but it’s not that. The love you feel for your boyfriend is one that strengthens every sense, impulse, and desire. Without it and him, that’s when you feel the weakest. And every time Heeseung smiles at you or holds you close, you can tell he feels the same.

Whether your worlds were the exact same or as different as they possibly could be, you both made your own perfectly fit for just the two of you.

The outside world has to creep in every once in a while, though.

At the end of the night, Heeseung’s arm is wrapped perfectly around you as you walk. You discuss your shared plans for the night and subsequent weekend since your parents are away at a work conference. Heeseung stops short when he sees his father waiting at his car with crossed arms.

“Good job, Hee,” He says first and foremost. “Saw you lost a bit of steam in the third quarter, though. We’ll have to do some more conditioning before the final.”

And there it was. The judgment you saw so often in conversations between Heeseung and his father that made you ache for the boy you loved. As his father, he should’ve been proud to see his sons succeeding, one of them off and playing for a world-renowned team and the other on his way there. Instead, all they received was judgment. It wasn’t your place, but you couldn’t wait for the day Heeseung stood up to him.

“At least I made the winning basket, right?” Heeseung shrugs off the criticism with a laugh and holds you closer. “We have to go eat, so—“

“Of course.” His father moves out of your way. “Lovely to see you again, darling,” He says to you with a small smile as he opens the passenger door for you. You return his greeting, suddenly uncomfortable with how close he is.

On your drive to your house, you try to help Heeseung destress with a hand on his thigh. “Don’t let him get to you,” you say sadly.

He smiles and gives you a knowing stare. “I’ve been dealing with him my whole life. He doesn’t have that power anymore.” He takes your hand from his thigh to hold it tightly in his own palm. “Besides, I’m one step closer to the championship and I got my girl next to me. Nothing’s getting in the way of my good night.”

You set your backpacks down at the door when you step inside your house. Heeseung follows you to the kitchen. While you’re finding the flier with the number of your favorite takeout restaurant, Heeseung presses his lips to your neck. The trail of his kisses going from the back of your ear to the start of your collarbone makes you shiver.”

“Hee,” you warn him. “We won’t be able to eat if you keep distracting me.”

“Food is the second priority,” he responds, lips feathering your skin. “Right now, we need to celebrate the championship.”

“The championship is still three weeks away.”

“If we both know I’m going to win, what’s the point of delayed gratification?” He pulls the sleeve of your shirt down to expose the top of your shoulder, kissing that area too to make your body thrum with pleasure.

“Speaking of that…” You turn to face Heesung, pressing your back against the counter. “I guess we can celebrate something tonight besides your impending win.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow.

“I got early acceptance to Sky.”

Heeseung’s eyes immediately light up at your announcement. He pulls you in by the waist and spins you around the tiny space between your kitchen island and the fridge.

When the topic of college came up, it was as good a time as any for the two of you to discuss your future plans with each other. As fate would have it, Heeseung planned to play for Sky University’s basketball team next year, and you were waiting on your official acceptance letter when you both started dating.

Now, Heeseung would have the two most important things to him in the next chapter of his life. The boy’s over the moon, as any other person would be.

Heeseung lifts you over his shoulder, immediately heading in the direction of the stairs to take you to your bedroom. He laughs off your mock protest.

He knows for certain he’s in love with you. It may not be the perfect time to say it, especially before he’s about to ravish you, but the perfect time will come when it feels right.

He doesn’t say it when he strips you bare for only his eyes as he kisses you senseless, shocked and grateful your body is for him and him alone to see and cherish. He doesn’t say it as you kiss every inch of his bare chest to send him into a rambling mess of praises and curses.

Somehow, stupidly, the words slip out when your mouth is wrapped around his cock, tongue flat against the underside of his tip as he feels the back of your throat against him.

“Fuck, I love you so much.”

The air stills, both your bodies going rigid at the sudden confession that has just left his lips. But, instead of running scared, you take your mouth off of him and stare deeply into his eyes, smiling wide. “What’d you say?”

Heeseung breathes out a sigh of relief, suddenly taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. “I love you. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you in that hallway. I just didn’t know it yet.”

You giggle and press another kiss to his lips. He sees a tear leave your eye, and he wipes it away gently with his thumb. “I love you, too, Heeseung.”

You fall back into a steady rhythm of kissing and touching, Heeseung’s hands roaming the skin of your stomach, the swell of your breasts, and the cleft between your thighs, making you moan.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” Heeseung whispers against your lips.

He lays you flat on your back, kissing what areas he hasn’t touched yet with his hands. He needs you to know, in every moment, he chooses you and will never stop choosing to be with you.

If he had to make the choice to either give up the game or you, he would choose the former in a heartbeat. His dad, his friends, and even fate may say it’s young love and you haven’t been in his life as long as basketball has, but they don’t see him the way you do.

Even if he doesn’t say it out loud, he knows he doesn’t have to.

When Heeseung finally presses his lips to your clit, kissing the nub with adoration, your legs shake at the contact. You instantly run your fingers into his hair. “Fuck,” you curse, the word rarely slipping from your lips save for moments like these.

The first time you had been together, Heeseung didn’t know exactly how to touch you without being terrified it was too much. But now he knows all the ways to turn you into a beautiful mess.

He licks languidly across your center and through your folds, keeping the perfect pace for you to ride your hips against his mouth. He inserts a finger into your entrance after coating the digit in the arousal already pooling at your center. You, typically so put together, are ready to fall apart at the simple press of his mouth against you.

Heeseung knows he can get you off this way, without question. And most nights, he doesn’t mind when you’re the only one who receives pleasure. But tonight, you moan out a request that he can’t say no to.

“Heeseung, please. I want you inside me when I come.” He doesn’t have to be told what to do twice when it’s the best command he’s heard all night.

He takes your mouth in his, holding your jaw in his hand and slightly applying pressure to the side of your neck. A half-empty moan leaves your lips at the sudden contact. To him, the sounds that you make are their own form of poetry, better than anything you’ve read to him all year.

Heeseung quickly grabs a foil packet from your bedside drawer to put on himself, protection being the one thing you can’t forget in the midst of your desire for each other. Lining himself up with your entrance, he thinks you could not look more beautiful with your half-lidded eyes and eager hands grabbing onto his hips to finally push him inside of you.

When he does ease in, he swallows the curse prepared to leave your mouth with his lips. It’s an indescribable feeling, the stretch and pull of your walls taking him in completely. Although you’ve been together many times before this night, it’s still a novelty Heeseung does not take for granted.

He takes his time establishing a rhythm, loving the pants and whimpers you emit because of him and for him. He holds his hand on your throat, his thumb going into your mouth for you to wrap your lips around in a lewd manor.

“Ah, fuck,” you say as he snaps his hips, filling you to the hilt. “Just like that.”

He feels his orgasm in his gut, threading further up his body as he snaps his hips harder and faster, moving in and out at a faster pace than normal. You don’t mind, scratching lines down his back as you cling to him. You’re both reduced to a heap of I love you’s and satisfied sounds, and it could not be more perfect.

“Fuck, Hee, I’m coming,” you say in the form of a promise, one so precious he wants to hear it every day.

The flutter of your walls around him as you fall apart pushes him to his own end, releasing into the condom with a guttural moan. He kisses you deeply before separating from you, running to the bathroom to throw the remnants of your lovemaking into the toilet and clean himself up.

You hold your arms out to him, ready to have him back by your side. He grins and kisses the crown of your forehead.

“Think about all the nights we can do this next year,” Heeseung whispers into the dark.

“I can’t wait,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his sweaty chest. “I love you.”

He grins happily to himself, the words a thousand times more powerful leaving your mouth. “I love you, too, angel.”

With your body curled into his chest, your heartbeats matching in tempo, he thinks no amount of championship wins could compare to the love he’s found in you.

DECEMBER

The basketball feels light as air in Heeseung’s hands, incomparable to the feeling in his chest looking at you. His teammates can tell he’s staring directly at your position in the stands. They wonder how his mind is still so occupied by you, even amongst the sea of spectators waiting for him to either succeed or screw up

Little do they realize, you’re the exact reason he’s going to win the title.

As he looks in your direction, he takes the shot without second-guessing himself. He hears the faint gasps of some attendees and even his coach, but the following swish of the basket in the hoop tells Heeseung all he needs to hear. And all he needs to see is your beautiful, proud face as the gym explodes into cheers.

You’re the best and truest thing he has in this world. He knows he’s a champion, in both the traditional and figurative sense. With you by his side, he’ll always feel like the winner of every game he’ll ever play.

#lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung fic #heeseung fic #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #[ lexi's works ]

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calware · 1 day

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as time goes on my interesting in shipping (for homestuck) (that's really the only fandom i'm in) has just gone down lower and lower because i used to see "shipping" as just "characters who were compatible in some way". for example i would look at karkat and feferi and be like "they didn't interact much but a lot was going on with the two of them in terms of their themes and how those themes intersect. and since romantic relationships are "more complex" or "better" or "more potent" than other relationships the natural progression is to ship them together romantically" but the stuff that would make them potentially interesting as a pairing isn't inherently romantic at all. and i feel like that goes for a lot of if not most of the characters. homestuck to me is way more centered on the idea of friendship (and family sometimes but moreso friendship) than romance and when characters have something important going on between them the interesting part is usually not inherently romantic

even the characters that start dating where their romantic attraction IS very important is based on their initial friendship..!! vrisrezi wouldn't be nearly as meaningful if they weren't friends first, same with dirkjake, etc. arasol is such a popular ship and they only dated once when they were 8 years old…. their relationship from that point on is SO important to who they are but it isn't even inherently romantic after the fact, but people see romance as the "natural progression" from there so clearly they "should" date once they get the chance to do so again. my point is i wish people would pay more attention to some of the non-romantic aspects of relationships in hs because i really think that's what takes center stage within the story most of the time (not ALL of the time of course there are definitely parts where romance is important. but you get what i'm saying)

and then of course to take that a step further and be even more of a hater i'm so tired of people taking stuff and putting it into a romantic context when it's entirely unnecessary…. i made a video with dave and karkat bickering and people tagged it as davekat for no reason. literally that post about dirk and john meeting each other that people kept tagging as dirkjohn for no reason. i'll make posts about the alpha kids being friends and doing stuff together and someone went through my entire blog tagging all of these as "alphacule" for no reason. i'll draw dirk and hal literally just looking at each other and someone will tag it as dirkhal. girl they're just looking at each other. seeing someone liveblog collide and they go "did anyone else think dirk and dave should've kissed >_<??" no i actually don't think they would do that. it's so dark in here

#NOT EVEN SAYING SHIPPING IS BAD i'm just so tired. i'm so tired

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deliasmilkshake · 2 days

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☀️FNAF DCA x Y/N Fic Recs🌑

All of them are DCA x Reader Fanfics. NSFW fics will have a 🔞sign (I tend to like those that have plot and/or have fluff <3)

Inspired by: Pillowspaces' DCA Fic Recs.

Each I've read and made me fall for Sun&Moon all over again.

If you see your fic, you can ask for it to be removed if not comfortable with it being here.

PLEASE check each fics tags before reading them.

Last updated: 23/Sept/2024 [Gave Naff's two mer fics a doodle]

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦······················•✦•······················•✦

☀️Solar Lunacy by BamSara (AO3 account required)

Same body!Sun/Moon/Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @bamsara]

You weren't a technician, you weren't a security guard, you weren't a daycare assistant. You're just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn't do and human staff couldn't care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it's relatively easy.

Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you're roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking.

You don't think this was in your employee contact.

| Words: 225,814 | Chapters: 16/?

🌑Love, Death and Rollerskates by Spadillelicious

Rollerskater!Sun, Janitor!Moon, Metalstar!Eclipse x Staff!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @spadillelicious]

After moving to Crescent City in the 80s, you pick up a job at the local roller rink Party Planet. Ironic, considering roller skating is definitely not one of your talents.

On the bright side, you get to work with the friendly Sun. On the other hand, you also have to interact with the gruff janitor and security guard Moon on a daily basis.

But when staying after hours one day, despite being strictly instructed not to, you find out a terrible secret that changes everything you knew about Sun, Moon and Crescent City forever.

| Words: 98,091 | Chapters: 18/?

☀️Celestial Sundown by clutterspace

God!Sun, God!Moon, God!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @pillowspace]

There was something slumped beneath a tree, and you had no idea what it was. The sunlight shone brighter where it laid, despite the leaves above not differing from any of the other foliage.

It was such a small thing to notice in comparison to everything else, but it brought a small hysterical giggle out past the lump in your throat as it finally clicked in place what you were seeing.

It was a god.

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

| Words: 83,805 | Chapters: 7/?

🌑Celestial Omens by BamSara

Siren!Sun, Siren!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @bamsara]

When you are ten years old, you find two creatures, bloodied and injured, trapped a net on the beach near your home. You save them, make friends with them, and return them to the sea, leaving you to wonder later if your friends with the Sun colored scales and fins that shone like the full Moon were real or imagined up by a childhood of loneliess.

Time passes. You hear stories of monsters, Sirens in the water, one that is a good omen if spotted, promising your safe voyage as long as you respect the rules of the ocean, and one that sinks ships and eats people for fun. Just folktales meant to scare children.

A decade later, they return the favor, though they don't plan on leaving you so easily this time.

| Words: 36,318 | Chapters: 3/?

🔞The Pizzaplex Nighttime Mechanic by crickyluv

Same body!Sun/Moon, Glitch!Eclipse x Mechanic!Reader

~~ [Sun Design by: @crickyluv, Yn,Moon&Eclipse: Me & @crickyluv]

You finally got the job as the nighttime mechanic at Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex! Unfortunately, you get a double shift. At least you get to spend time fixing the animatronic you knew best: Sun!

This is a slow burn that eventually turns into NSFW. There is a TON to get to before the spice comes.

| Words: 213,892 | Chapters: 47/?

☀️In Deep Dreams Between the Waves by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Eclipse x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

You see a fish, but the fish isn’t really a fish, because he looks up at you with big yellow eyes, wide with fright. Large black pupils dart around frantically. He’s small, less than half your size, which surprises you. You know mers are supposed to be big sea monsters that sink boats or cause storms, but you don’t see a monster. You think of a baby while staring at his chubby round face, creased with fear, and his small tail.

| Words: 55,644 | Chapters: 5/5

🌑Song Fish Amid the Stars by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

This is a type of sequel to In Deep Dreams Between the Waves.

A pang hits your heart, going out to the little fish struggling to escape the cruel and entrapping lagoon.

But they look like mers. Sea monsters.

| Words: 69,362 | Chapters: 6/6

☀️Sleuth Jesters by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Detective!Sun, Detective!Moon, MafiaBoss!Eclipse x Vigilante!Reader

~~ [Yn,Sun&Moon Designs by: @sunnys-aesthetic, Eclipse: Me & @naffeclipse ]

“If I may, Detectives, I believe that the score is set at a tie on how many times you’ve both let me slip away under your watch.” You grin at the sun and moon like faces of your opponents in this game of cat and mouse. The narrow slice of Detective Moon’s gaze becomes threatening, where Detective Sun curls and uncurls his fingers in anticipation of whatever scheme you’re concocting.

| Words: 174,134 | Chapters: 15/15

🌑Pisces Caelestis by S_V

Mermaid!Sun, Mermaid!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @sortvaniliekrans]

Underneath the glowing eyes, a great maw opened to hiss at you, baring several rows of needle-like fangs, wicked looking and sharp and also glowing in the blacklight. As the thing hissed, the cries started up again, more frantic this time, and accompanied by- it almost sounded like scratching?

And it was coming from behind you.

The bleeding creature had never been the one wailing.

| Words: 76,588 | Chapters: 13/?

🔞Demon support by Megafacts

Demon!Sun x Demon!Moon x Human!Reader

~~ [Designs by: @megafactuals & Me]

You decide to try and summon a demon to destroy the world as a big bang to end all of humanity. Then earn the lavish life you wanted when you went to hell.

Instead you get two small demons who say they can satisfy your very desire, except the desire you called them for.

Bull. Shit.

| Words: 10,801 Chapters: 2/?

☀️Cryptid Sightings by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

Cryptid&Animatronic!Sun/Moon x CryptidHunter!Y/N

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most.

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

You will face the monsters.

| Words: 253,823 | Chapters: 21/21

🌑Apex Polarity by NaffEclipse (AO3 account required)

SirenOrca!Eclipse x Photographer!Y/N

~~ [Designs by: Me & @naffeclipse]

n the Arctic, all is beautiful and cold and lethal. You tread over ice and underneath, a dark, powerful siren stalks you. Though you try to resist, you succumb to the lure of the mer and his decision to have you.

How do you survive an apex predator?

| Words: 125,998 | Chapters: 12/12

🔞Love for the endangered by Megafacts

Seahorse!Sun x Seahorse!Moon x Researcher!Y/N

~~ [Designs by: @megafactuals & Me]

You worked as a researchers for endangered species at a sanctuary.

One day, two of the newly discovered seahorse merfolk species come into the sanctuary after being caught in a net left in the ocean. Instead of releasing them back to the wild, the upper ranks at the sanctuary decide to use them for a breeding program.

Over the next few months you must decide to help your new friends escape or force them to spend their first mating cycle trapped inside of the sanctuary.

| Words: 28,299 | Chapters: 2/2

If you have any fic you wish to recommend me, please do!

Though that will not guarantee it entering this list.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf dca x y/n #fnaf dca x reader #dca x yn #dca x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader

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nonranghaes · 2 days

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heads up: poly 97z :3

"none of us look like we're going to the same place." minghao adjusts his wire frame glasses, turning to the three of you. "this is why i can't trust any of you."

to be fair, he has a point. minghao's dressed cozily, with a long cardigan and warm tones, like he's about to go to a coffee shop for a poetry reading or to a wine tasting. which is probably appropriate, considering you are going to his poetry reading alongside the rest of your boyfriends. mingyu's dressed like he's about to go for a ride on his yacht (or whatever--you don't know what rich people do) with that navy blue and white sweater, complete with a pair of sunglasses that college you would have been gawking at the price tag of... and a big ass watch that you don't even know the brand of, but screams luxury. seokmin looks like he just wandered off the set of grease with his leather jacket, almost like he's about to bust out into "greased lightning" at any second. and you... well, you're dressed head to toe in black, stylish enough that you look like you just walked away from your wealthy spouse's funeral and you're already planning on how to spend their money. mingyu's sunglasses would complete the look, now that you're thinking about it.

"i don't see anything wrong," mingyu says, sunglasses lowered. "we look good."

"we do, but..." minghao shakes his head. "you know this isn't a fancy place, right?" he adjusts the edge of his sweater again, clearly a little nervous for what's to come. he's never done a poetry night at this new place, after all.

you're by mingyu's side, leaning against him as you look in the nearby mirror. yeah. definitely going to two different places: he's too colorful. "do you want us to change?"

minghao turns, taking in the sight of the three of you, so mismatched from one another. seokmin wraps his arms around his shoulders, and minghao just leans into his touch before shaking his head. "it's fine."

"think of it this way," seokmin says, already beaming with joy, "you won't lose us in the crowd."

and he's right: minghao's eyes find you easily in the crowded coffee shop that evening, and you see the subtle way he smiles, put at ease. the pictures you'll take later might get playful comments from his friends about how mismatched the four of you are, even with seokmin's jacket hanging over his shoulders... but minghao thinks you fit together perfectly.

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choslut · 11 hours

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˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ INKED. featuring s. geto.

↻ geto enjoys his job for this exact reason… he gets to give pretty girls like you your first ever tattoo.

tags : tattoos, slight masochism, dirty thoughts, suggestive actions, possessive behaviour, tattoo artist x florist trope, voice kink, dirty talk, praise kink, latex kink (if you squint), implied fingering, marking (literally and figuratively), implied virgin!reader, slight dubcon // wc. 1.1k

author's note : the longest one of the series… and possibly the longest author’s note too. i want to thank everyone who’s supported me throughout this event from the day i released the masterlist all the way up until the last work today!! i know i’ve said that every one of these have been my favourite but why not save the best ‘til last… this very specific image of geto haunts my (wet) dreams 🤤🤤 thank you again for all the support, because of you guys, i managed to go from 200 to over 900 followers !! 💓💓 i can’t thank you more, and i hope you enjoy this last work. this has been luna, and thank you for reading!!

pspsps …. you might want to stick around for my upcoming kinktober. it’s going to be a thriller…

“i would’ve never striked you as the type to want a tattoo, sweetie.” GETO looks at you over the frame of his glasses, eyebrow quirked as he confirms your appointment on his laptop. “and especially not one of this… calibre. is it your first time?”

you nod shyly, eyes averting from his gaze. he looks at the sheet of paper with your desired design on it, and the corners of his lips quirk upwards. a tramp stamp. totally not your type upon first glance.

he’s looking forward to this.

you’re a sweet enough girl. you wear denim miniskirts and baggy floral t-shirts, and your face is almost always bare, save for a few coats of mascara on your eyelashes and the occasional touch of lip gloss to make your features pop. you work in the flower shop across the street, and the only way geto can describe you is cute, and definitely not the type to want such a striking design tattooed on your lower back. it’s in such an intimate position, and he can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous for the lucky fucker who gets to run their hands all over it whilst he-

“it’s not too… extreme, is it?” you bite your lip nervously. “my friends told me that i should do something out of my comfort zone, so…”

he tears his eyes away from the sheet of paper to look up at you kindly. “it’s beautiful. come this way, we’ll get started now.”

“since it’s your first time, i’ll try to take things slow.” you’re lying flat on your front on the table, skirt pulled down an inch and shirt riding up your stomach. geto stands beside you, rolling up his sleeves and donning his latex gloves before prepping the stencil.

you have such pretty skin, he notes. beautiful and untouched, with such a pretty arch in your spine. he would’ve loved to imagine you positioned like this in different circumstances, but for now, he’s your tattoo artist and you’re his client, so his job is to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

so, to soothe your nerves, he runs his latex-clad fingers along the arch in your spine, splaying his hands across your lower back and smiling when he feels you shiver as a disinfectant wipe comes into contact with your skin.

“i’m just prepping the skin, and then i’ll transfer the stencil. it’ll feel a little cold at first, but hopefully it’ll help calm all those pesky nerves. does that sound alright?” you nod. “good girl.”

shit. it just slipped out, the praise, but then he notices that your muscles start to relax. you like praise. good to know, for next time.

time seems to pass slowly as geto works his magic, plastering the stencil onto your lower back. it’s affecting him, your reactions, and when he finally reveals the potential placement of your totally out-of-character tramp stamp, he has to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud.

the placement — it’s fucking dirty.

geto decides to check up with you before finally starting to prep his equipment. “are you sure about this? it’s your first time, so it might hurt.” he chuckles lightly. “scrap that. it will hurt, but i’ll try to make it quick so that you feel the least amount of pain as possible.”

“i…” your voice dies in your throat when you feel his fingers trace the outline of your preeminent tattoo. “ ‘m a bit nervous. never done this before.”

“mm, i know, angel. you have such a beautiful body… i’d be honoured to mark it up some more next time.”

oh. you know (read: think) there’s no underlying intent to his words, but the way his honeyed voice purrs behind you has a stream of wetness start to build inside of you, and you try to discreetly clench your thighs to quell the dull ache in between your legs, praying that geto doesn’t notice.

he does. if he wasn’t mistaken, this might just be your kink: being left merciless whilst someone toys with your body. he doesn’t overstep though, just teases, running his hands along your bare legs. “how about here next time? i could ink a pretty little flower on your ankle, or maybe some initials… yours, of course.”

geto rathers he mark his initials on your ankle, but again, boundaries. to stop himself from saying anything that’ll have you bolting out of the studio in a millisecond, he finally sits in his chair, picking up the needle and scooting towards you. “are you ready, sweetheart? this is going to hurt, so tell me if you want me to let up at any time.”

you won’t. he knows you won’t, because the feeling of his fingers on your skin is intoxicating for you given the way your toes begin to curl in your flats as he steadies his hands on your lower back. “relax, love. it’ll hurt less.”

the needle pierces your skin, ink blooming as geto begins his work. the feeling… it’s strange, given the fact that it’s quite literally repeated pinpricks on your back. but it feels strangely good paired with geto’s hands on your back, and his smooth voice praising you all the way through.

“oh, you’re doing such a good job for your first time, love. i’ve never seen anyone react so well.”

“does it feel alright? wouldn’t want to cause any harm to this precious body of yours.”

“i’m almost finished. you’ve been such a good client, i wouldn’t mind inking you again.”

all of it goes straight to your head, and the pain of the needle is replaced with instant euphoria as your mind fills with lewd images of geto fucking you in this exact position, hands on your lower back in the same way as he eases inside of you. and his voice, good lord, his voice… he would totally talk you through it, his rich grumble echoing in your ear as he guides you to orgasm.

“you’re taking it so well, aren’t you, baby? that’s my good girl.”

“fuck yes, angel, just like that… oh, you’re so damn perfect.”

“you’re close? cum for me, baby. need to feel you, atta girl…”

before you know it, a moan slips from your lips, and you immediately dread geto’s reaction.

“did you just…?”

your cheeks are on fire. “n-no! sorry, it hurt a little bit there. i should be fine though, you can keep going.”

he quirks an eyebrow. “well then, the fault is mine entirely. allow me to make it up to you? i’d feel horrible for hurting you, after all.”

your slight nod is all he needs and suddenly he’s finishing up and wrapping your tramp stamp before prying your thighs apart and slipping his latex-clad fingers into your dripping panties.

PREVIOUS : SWEET TALK ft. choso NEXT : N/A

liked that? check out the WE’RE SO BACK masterlist.

#jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru geto smut #anime smut #anime fanfic

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mxstellatayte · 2 days

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pretty please: chapter two.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter two warnings: covid happens :(, avoiding big emotional conversations, phone sex (not graphic,) i definitely deleted any and all covid social distancing rules when i was writing this but it'S FOR THE PLOT, oral sex (f receiving, not graphic,) LEWIS IS SUGAR DADDY!!!!!!!! (but there's also feelings but we don't want to admit that yet hehehehehehe)

chapter two word count: 3.7k

taglist (crossed out means i could not tag you/no blog was found): @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy

@anat33-blog1 @Xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17

@marknolee @toby33b @theendofthematerialgworl @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808

join my taglist here!

take my hand while we dance on the edge of a knife

tuesday, 3 december, 2019

your phone chimes in the formula 1 radio tone, a custom ringtone you'd set just for lewis. glancing away from your computer screen, you see a simple text.

Hey.

what should you say? "hey yourself?" no, too sassy. "hey, thanks for the mind-blowing sex a few days ago. i think i'm into you, do you wanna go out?" way too forward. "hey!" too excited.

you settle on a simple "hey." in response.

for good measure, you add on a second text.

Thanks for the flight yesterday :)

his response? a simple "Yeah of course!"

"alright. so i'm going to have to be the one to bring it up. gotcha."

so this was the dance that you'd be doing. you'd just move on from the most life-changing sex you've ever had with four texts. you'd take a step forward, try to ask about what this would mean for your professional relationship, if anything, and he'd have one-sentence answers before moving on to a different topic.

that's fine.

it totally didn't make you insane.

definitely not.

instead of thinking about your client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy over your winter holidays, you opt for drowning yourself in advance work, opting to make your contributions to the february 2020 issue the best the world has ever seen. your articles for the january issue are long submitted, but now that you've submitted everything for finalization for the next two months, you have a staycation at home with your cats, crochet, shitty reality tv, and a lot of alcohol filling up your schedule for the next two weeks (and a short visit to your parents up in leeds for christmas, but that's naught but a short interruption to your routine,) and you don't intend on letting work interrupt a single moment of the next two weeks.

the key word in that sentence being intend.

although, is it really considered work if it's just texting back and forth with someone who's a client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy and not exactly a coworker?

"girl, i swear down on my nan's grave," amelia begins, and you grin, already knowing you're about to get a true amelia lorenz lecture, "if you don't make a move on him before new year's, i will, and i don't think he even knows my name!" she continues by weaving an intricate web of every single sign she's seen that points to the mutual attraction between yourself and the driver, and you're not sure when the right time is to tell her that you've already had sex with him. luckily, you find an opportunity when she stands from your couch to refill her glass of whiskey and pauses her monologue.

"is now a good time to tell you that we shagged after abu dhabi?"

amelia's head whips around so fast you're surprised it doesn't snap off of her neck. "you what?" you grin sheepishly, any and all confidence you've ever had in your entire life having evaporated in a microsecond. when she sits down opposite you on the couch, her left leg tucked into her crotch and her right hanging off the side, she has to set her glass on your coffee table so that she doesn't splash the whiskey everywhere. you both know what's coming purely based off of her body language. she takes a deep breath, then presses her hands together in a prayer-like stace and rests the nook of her nose in her fingertips. "let me get this straight." she pauses. "you." her right hand points directly at you as she says your full name. "shagged the lewis hamilton. and you didn't tell me immediately?"

"why do you think i wasn't on the flight back?" amelia's eyes widen in realization, and a grin spreads across her face.

"he flew you back on his jet?" you nod, taking another sip of your drink, and amelia squeals with delight. "i need every single detail. start talking."

friday, 13 march, 2020

your phone vibrates on your desk, and you glance over at it, unlocking it when you see the f1 logo on the notification. your heart sinks when you see what the notification reads, though.

"formula 1, fia and agpc announce cancellation of the 2020 australian grand prix"

"shit," you mutter, switching your phone off and resting your head in your hands. it won't be long before the lockdown reaches london, you know that, but it's difficult knowing that lewis was looking forward to being in the car again, especially with some of the new regulations that he hoped would lead to closer racing.

you send him a text before you go to sleep- it's almost 3 am.

Sorry to hear about the race. I know you were looking forward to driving.

by the time you've fallen asleep, though, lewis has seen your text and he gnaws at his lower lip, his thumbs hesitating over the keyboard of his phone's screen. yeah, he was looking forward to driving, but as the pandemic numbers increased, his anxiety about the race weekend did, too.

Thanks. I'm glad they called it off, though. The numbers were getting too high too fast.

months pass. your interviews with various drivers at the monaco and british grands prix are moved to video calls. the world gets thrown into lockdown, eases out of it, and then gets thrown into lockdown once more. dolphins are spotted in the canals of venice. george floyd's murder sparks a revolution that reaches all corners of the globe.

you don't go a day without texting, calling, or video calling with lewis.

it's sickening, really, how much his smile is keeping you sane. well, if you're being honest, it's a combination of his smile, your medication, and going on a lot of walks around your neighbourhood. leytonstone is a lovely part of london, yes, but there's only so many different routes you can take around the neighbourhood before you start itching to jump on a train and go anywhere.

in early june, you get the email. you'll be traveling to silverstone for a set of interviews with various drivers for the 70th anniversary race. it's the fifth of seventeen races on the updated calendar, and the email states that you may be sent to the abu dhabi grand prix, as well.

wednesday, 29 july, 2020.

you're practically vibrating with excitement as you board the first of four trains that will take you to your hotel. you're leaving a week before you're due in silverstone, though, because why wouldn't you take advantage of the double header race? you've never been to a race purely as a spectator and your giddiness makes you laugh. how going to a race has given you the butterflies in your stomach that you haven't felt since you were a teenager, you'll never know. sure, with the fia's no-spectator rule, you aren't really sure how people are planning on watching the race, but you're sure you'll learn as the weekend progresses. either way, you're one of many fans taking the train up to silverstone despite the rules stating that no fans could enter the paddock or the grandstands, many hopeful that simply being in the same general area might get them a chance of seeing any of the drivers in person. a few of the racing fans on the train even recognize you, one timidly holding the july 2019 edition of vogue.

the edition where your first interview with lewis was published.

"could you sign it?"

your jaw opens and closes beneath your mask a few times before you're able to regain your composure, accepting the magazine and sharpie from her with a smile.

"what's your name, darling? here, sit with me." she does, sitting across the aisle from you and nervously tucking a curl of ginger-brown hair behind her ear.

"kathleen. but you can call me kat," she adds, and you smile as you write a small note on the inside cover, adding your signature afterwards. "are you interviewing lewis hamilton this weekend?"

"i don't have any interviews this weekend. just next weekend." you look more intently at kat's outfit, and you smile below your mask. she's wearing a mercedes hoodie and baggy jeans, and you notice that her outfit reminds you of someone. "i like your outfit. it reminds me of some of lewis' outfits, actually." kat beams beneath her mask, her eyes scrunching up into happy crescents.

"thank you! he's kinda the inspiration behind my outfits for the weekend. i'm a huge fan of him, have been for years. i'll be honest, i didn't read much about fashion until you interviewed him, but i really liked your article and looked up some of your others. the one you wrote critiquing paparazzi for stalking celebrities was incredible! you wrote it so freely. i loved it." kat catches herself, noticing her rambling, folding her hands in her lap nervously. "sorry. i talk when i'm nervous."

"you have nothing to be nervous about. i'm just another human being." you hesitate a moment, leaning over to her as you pass the magazine and sharpie marker back. "can i tell you a secret?" she nods. "i was terrified the first time i interviewed lewis." kat's eyes grow wide, and you nod. "i was so nervous. i almost got sick a couple of times, actually."

"really?"

"mhm. i'm surprised i didn't."

"i definitely would."

"i doubt that. lewis is as nice- if not nicer- than he seems. after the first five minutes of talking to him, i knew i had nothing to worry about."

the two of you spend the remaining time on the trains talking together, and she animatedly drags her father towards you and you shake his hand, introducing yourself.

"pleasure to meet you. my name's dan. thank you for being a role model for my little girl." your heart swells with pride at the praise, and you nod.

"you're raising a very fine young woman, dan. she's got a bright future ahead of her." dan nods and thanks you, grinning behind his mask. you know, from what kat's told you, that dan has been a fan of formula 1 since the michael schumacher days and that he's been to three grands prix in his life- silverstone 2003, silverstone 2004, and germany 2008. this'll be his fourth. you also know that the white and papaya t-shirt he's wearing is from the most recent race he's attended. "do you happen to have instagram, dan?"

"i do, why?" his eyes narrow slightly, and you can understand why your question seems a little strange.

"i'm writing a piece about fan presence at recent grands prix, since there's been the 'no fans allowed inside' order from the fia, and would love to interview you and kat before and after the weekend," you lie. "i'd be willing to keep you both anonymous, if you'd like. if i can message you on instagram, it wouldn't be as much of a hassle as writing emails to communicate."

"i'd prefer we remain anonymous, but i'm sure she'd love to be interviewed."

you can't tie me down, but you can tie me up

thursday, 30 july, 2020.

the next morning, you call lewis, the hotel's breakfast menu next to you on your bed and your notepad perched on your lap, your pre-weekend "interview" with dan and kat in just over 90 minutes. lewis picks up the call on the third ring.

"hey!" you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much, a rush of dopamine flooding your brain at the sound of his voice. "can i call you back in half an hour? i've got media stuff to do in about five minutes."

"i'll be fast. can you get two paddock passes made for sunday under the names kathleen and dan gallagher?"

"they'll have to be media passes, but yeah, why?"

"you'll see. i'll text you the names so you have them. see you in a few days!"

after texting bono a quick message regarding your own pass and ensuring that he would keep it completely and entirely a secret from lewis, you flop backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "what the hell have i gotten myself into?"

since the pandemic began, your relationship with lewis has been... well... less than professional.

your daily phone calls and texts with him have contained topics that still make shivers run up your spine and a flush of heat fill your cheeks and neck when you think about them. there have been many nights where you've been on a call with lewis and you're both breathing heavily, clothes messily strewn across your respective beds in a rush to lay back against your pillows and touch yourself to completion, obeying each other's commands and wishes.

there have also been many nights where you're tucked into your beds, roscoe fast asleep next to lewis and your own furry companions, pipsqueak and garfburger, the latter of which amelia named, curled into a ball of rare calmness next to you. the two of you ultimately fall asleep on the call, the idea of having someone with you, even if not physically, helping soothe your anxiety.

both types of calls are incredibly intimate and beautiful, each in their own way.

four days later, you're meeting up with bono outside the paddock to get your own pass and messaging back and forth with dan, attempting to figure out where you can meet him near the paddock entrance. trying to explain to him why you need to meet up today when your scheduled interview time is tomorrow without giving too many details proves to be a difficult task but you're thankfully able to manage. five minutes after bono appears, three media passes in hand, you see dan and kat round the corner. you wave him down, a smile on your face, and kat immediately comes running over to you. today, she sports a pair of baggy jeans, a hamilton jersey over what you assume is the same mercedes hoodie she was wearing on the train, and an incredibly well-loved pair of black platform converse.

"good morning to you both," you say, a bright grin on your face beneath your mask. from the way kat's eyes scrunch up behind glasses you can tell her own smile outshines your own.

"good morning! dad said you had some mid-weekend questions for us?"

"well..." your eyes flick back and forth between dan and kat, and you can see the gears turning in dan's head, but kat remains oblivious. "the mid-weekend questions were a bit of a lie, but i think- i hope- that what i have in my jacket pocket is enough for you to forgive me." with that, you pull the two black and purple media passes out of your jacket, check which one has kat's name on it and which has dan's, and hand them to their respective owners. "kathleen and dan gallagher, welcome to the formula 1 silverstone paddock."

"are you serious?" dan says in disbelief, and when you nod, kat squeaks in delight and throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around you in a vice grip.

"thank you thank you, thank you!"

"you're very welcome. are you ready to go see some cool cars?"

"is that a joke? of course!" kat looks at her father, hoping for some small nod of approval, and, when he does, you think the girl still glued to your torso might just combust from excitement. you can tell that dan's barely containing his own joy, his eyes mirroring the amount of joy you see in kat's.

"in that case, let's go." after about an hour of walking through the paddock, finding spare headsets in the mclaren garage, and smiling as kat and dan can't control their own amazement at the works of engineering in front of them land sheepishly asking a few drivers for photos,) you make your way, finally, to the mercedes garage. "re you two hungry at all? care for a coffee or tea? mercedes has the best food in the paddock. "

"i'd love a coffee, actually." dan says. "kat? you want anything?"

"a cuppa sounds perfect, thank you."

"i've got it. here, have a seat, i'll be right back, " you say, attempting to sound as casual as physically possible when you know you're about to blow their minds. they sit at one of the tables in the small cafe, and you go up to the barista, ordering dan and kat's drinks before ducking away and making your way to lewis' driver's room, knocking a few times and stepping back, smiling when the door opens and you see him, fuck, he looks good. "hi, lewis."

he knew you were going to be in silver stone for the 70th anniversary race, but that isn't until next weekend. "you've here early," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "why's that?"

"i can't want to see my favorite driver at his home race?" you cock an eyebrow and cross your arms, but there's sarcasm evident in your voice. "plus, i missed you. can i tie up your schedule for a bit?"

"it depends. how is my schedule being tied up if i agree?" lewis is matching your own bass, and you smile.

"just some people i'd like you to meet. remember those passes i asked you to have made? well... they're in the cafe and i think the cherry on top of their day would be meeting you."

"in that case, you can tie up my schedule, but i only have fifteen minutes before the strategy meeting." you grin brightly, and your eyes squishing in the corners makes lewis smile in turn, "before we go, though, i do have a little request. come in for a quick minute?" he steps to the side and you gladly follow, turning towards lewis when you hear the door click shut behind you. he's taking off his Mercedes- branded face mask, and you take that as permission lo take your own off. "you know..." he begins, stepping towards you. your breath catches in your throat as all of your senses one immediately overwhelmed with everything lewis. his left hand comes up to hold your and check you gladly lean into his touch, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast his calloused to fingertips. the next words he says ring in your head, repeating like church bells.

"i missed you, too." those words are the last thing you process before lewis' lips are on yours and every ounce of tension leaves your body.

"mm, lewis, " you say, pulling away from the blissful kiss much to your dismay. "our guests are waiting." lewis groans, and you giggle.

"fine, but after we've done with that and i'm free from my strategy meeting, we're coming back here and finishing what we started."

"deal."

kat and dan are, obviously, completely and entirely dumbfounded when you return to the cafe, six-time world champion in tow.

they're even happier when they watch lewis cross the line in first place, five seconds ahead of max verstappen.

after the podium and post-race interviews, you find yourself crowded against the wall of lewis' driver's room yet again. your kisses are hot and messy, desperate hands wandering around each other's bodies. sometime in the lust-addled haze, you're laying back onto the couch pushed against the back wall and your jeans are being thrown somewhere across the room. whatever, you don't care where they are or how wrinkled they're going to be because lewis is eating you out again and, within minutes, you're cumming on his tongue again as his nose bumps against your clit. when he kisses you, your cum smears on your cheeks and chin and nose and it's so, so filthy, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"are you coming to any other races this year?" lewis speaks up, his voice echoing through his chest. he's found you a pair of joggers that you'd slipped on after another set of blissful kisses and a messy (but very perfect) handjob. he's laying on the couch and you're resting on top of him, your arms wrapped around his torso and his own surrounding your shoulders. your socked feet are tangled with lewis' own, and his fingers, unusually absent of any jewelry, run gently along the curve of your shoulders.

"i'm not sure. i haven't gotten any race assignments yet from upper management, and traveling is really difficult right now if you don't have a work visa."

"i bet i can send some emails." you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"lewis," you scoff, burying your face in his chest. he smells like forests and jasmine and safety. "you're going to be the death of me."

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smashing-teacups · 1 day

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My very dear friend (who is so grumpy that J&C hijacked her brain again when she wanted a break 🤣) @theawkwardterrier tagged me in an invite to share a section of one of my WIPs. So hey, how about a peek at an upcoming chapter of Atonement? 👀

______

In the second month, they began their respective job searches in earnest.

On that particular front, Claire had an undeniable advantage: there was a terrible nursing shortage throughout the UK, and more job postings than she knew what to do with. She had enough experience to be accepted at practically every bedside position, and so she had the ability to be selective.

A very fortunate state to find herself in, she found out rather quickly, as there were a number of positions that… well, positions she wasn’t sure she would be best suited for anymore.

Wound care, for example, was definitely out. Just reading the vague clinical expectations under the first post made her snap her laptop shut, her skin chilled and mind numb. She held Jamie from behind later that night, tears soaking her pillow as she traced the scars that had once been open flesh. The memories were as vivid as if she were living them all over again; she could see the snake of saturated pink gauze she’d pulled out of his back by the meter, watch her gloved hand depress a syringe of morphine into his IV, hear her own murmurs of reassurance as she reached wrist-deep into the cavernous wounds to begin packing them again…

So, no. Nothing with wound care.

Anything on a neurology floor was likewise out of the question. The prospect of monitoring an EEG took her right back to the endless days and nights when those incomprehensible squiggling lines were burned into her retinas, watching for any change that might signify a seizure. The ICUs in general were out for that same reason. Just the sounds alone — the non-stop beeping of monitors and IVs, the whoosh of the ventilator and hiss of suction equipment—

She couldn’t.

Her damned glass face as she scrolled the job boards must have told her husband far more than she ever would have said aloud; it didn’t take long before she woke to find a folded newspaper on the kitchen table alongside her morning coffee. Circled once, with a question mark beside it, was an advertisement from a local primary care office in town, seeking a clinic nurse.

Claire looked over the top of the paper to find Jamie watching her apprehensively, as though unsure if he’d overstepped. The moment she caught his eye, he dropped his gaze and blew on his steaming coffee. “It’d be quieter than ye’re used to,” he said around a careful sip, “but somethin’ to consider, mebbe.”

Softening with tenderness, she reached for his hand across the table. “No, it’s—it’s a good thought. Thank you. Maybe I need the quiet, I don’t know.” With a sigh, she smoothed her free hand over her face and back into her hair. “That’s just it, I don’t… I don’t know what it is I want any more.” Peering up at her husband through her lashes, she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, “Suppose I’ve just been hoping I’ll know it when I see it.”

Returning the smile so that his soft morning eyes crinkled with it, Jamie brought her knuckles to his lips. “I’m sure you will. The right job’ll find ye when it’s meant to, Sassenach. I know it.”

#smashingteacups #atonement #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #wee preview

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fairyhaos · 3 hours

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◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek.

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes.

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come.

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not four in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have.

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved.

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent.

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face.

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs.

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow.

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you.

He isn't.

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile.

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself.

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you.

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

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anisespice · 2 days

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“ there’s a reason why i walk like this ” || tokyo rev.

pairing: fem!reader x shinichiro

warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. suggestive themes

notes: something short and sweet for my second favorite sano :)) i am a sucker for “secret relationship w resident loser loverboy just to spite his nosy friends” lol

tagged: @fantasycantasy, @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen, @fushiqruo, @gunslxtz

His friends tease him about the pretty girl who frequents the shop to ask trivial questions regarding her friend’s motorcycle he fixed months ago, and how he needed to shoot his shot already.

But, Shin made excuse after excuse for himself not pursuing her…

It was strange, but amusing to watch the ravenette struggle to hide just how flustered he got whenever you came around, his face pure vermilion while wearing a goofy-ass grin as he tried his hardest to act cool. Any more obvious and he’d probably have hearts floating around his head. Not to mention, you weren’t exactly helping either in terms of your obliviousness. There could’ve been a whole sign over Shinichiro’s head that said: Big-dicked single, ready to mingle, and you would’ve acted like you couldn’t read.

They figured it was a lost cause.

Especially, when you stopped by one day with a rather…peculiar walk. A bit of an exaggerated sway in your hips, if you would. The hickies you did a piss-poor job at covering up painted your neck and collarbone with purples and blues, some on your inner thighs peeking at them from beneath the short skirt you pranced around in, too.

It was all the explanation needed for them to conclude that, clearly, somebody’s already hitting that shit.

…

“Do you think they’ve caught on?” You giggled, draping yourself over his back while he finished his post-sex cigarette. Shin hummed in thought, leaning back into your hold as he smoothly exhaled the smoke through his nose.

He chuckled, then shrugged. “Dunno. I’m not sure our acting is all that convincing anymore. Waka’s definitely getting suspicious.”

“Or really concerned for our intelligence.”

Shinichiro snorts.

#🍁wasabi #tokyorev #didn’t know how to end this one AHHHHHH #but ‘walk like this’ by flo has been on REPEAT #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #shinichiro sano

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pedroshotwifey · 2 days

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Trouble in Paradise (Part One)

Pairing: DBF!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Of all the things you thought you might be doing on your summer break, falling in love with your father's best friend in Hawaii wasn't one of them.

Tags/Warnings: Nothing crazy yet! Some kind of maybe tension, pet names, talk of Joel knowing reader since she was small, reader has a dad, mom is not mentioned, yadayada

A/N: Hello my friends! I'm terribly sorry I've been away for so long. There have been a lot of...unsavory happenings lately. Want to say sorry in advance because I know this isn't my best writing, but i'm trying to get back into the groove of things. I'm hoping I'll be back to my scheduled programming (TTF, FB, answering requests) by the time this short series is done. Expecting it to be around 3-5 parts. Thank you so much for sticking with me <3

*******

You’ve been laying in your bed blasting your “chill” playlist through your earbuds since you got home from school around five. The last exhausting day of your freshman college year. Lana Del Rey, Cigarettes After Sex, Hozier, and the like have been floating lazily through your head as you watched the sun go down.

After a long day, you’d hung your head off the foot of your bed, intent to bask in the golden glow of the evening in a baggy T and your underwear until your eyes shut for the night. You were almost asleep when you were interrupted by a sound that didn’t quite go with “Wicked Game”.

You yank your earbuds out, sitting up on your bed. You don’t remember it getting so dark. Your cracked window allows the late summer breeze in to gently rustle the curtains framing it. Crickets and cicadas chirp loudly outside, creating a symphony to compliment the stars shining through the inky sky.

“Sweetheart?”

Your head swivels to look accusingly at your closed door. The name was shouted from the stairway. Definitely your dad.

You roll your eyes but get out of bed. The clock on your nightstand tells you it’s 8:02pm, so he’s probably calling you for dinner. You’ve told him before that it’s easier just to call your cell, but when has he ever listened? You pad to your door, crack it, and shout back.��

“Be down in a minute!”

Getting no response, you can only assume he heard you. You close your door back and pick up the polka-dotted pajama pants crumpled into a pile beside your bed. You tug them on through a yawn, almost tripping a few times before they’re on all the way.

You check your mirror before heading down. You look sleepy, not like it really matters. Your door creeks as you push it open again and make your way down the stairs. The soft carpet laid in the middle of the hardwood keeping your steps quiet. It’s about halfway to the kitchen that you hear a second voice to your father’s. It sounds vaguely familiar, and your heart skips a beat. Surely it’s not—

You climb down a few more steps and stop in your tracks at the sight of Joel Miller sitting at your dinner table. You haven’t seen him since at least your high school graduation. You’d harbored a small crush on him then, but that had to have been nothing compared to whatever the hell you’re feeling now. Your entire body seems to glow with some mix of embarrassment and surprise.

You really thought you’d gotten over this silly little crush. Then again, it’s hard to get over something like Joel Miller. High school boyfriends? Sure, no problem. But the classic DILF next door of a best friend your dad has isn’t so easy. He’s been a constant in your childhood, always kind and there for you even when your dad wasn’t. So, in other words, highly inappropriate for you to be so attached to.

It’s easy to say the years have been kind to him. He’s a few years older than your father, so probably about mid-forties now. He’s started to gray, a fine amount of silver peppered into his mousy brown hair. That beard of his has taken the brunt of it, though. That beard you’ve imagined between your thighs so many times.

His dark eyes seem to have become kinder thanks to the crow’s feet carefully etched into the corners. He’s wearing his signature T-shirt and worn jeans, his brown leather jacket and work boots likely disposed of near the front door.

He smirks as his brown eyes fall on your disheveled form, halted on the bottom step. You, in contrast to the god-like figure he’s sporting, must look like an absolute mess. Despite that fact, he looks at you almost in a different way than he used to. More intensely. It makes you resist the urge to squirm.

“Joel,” you finally manage to choke out. “Hi.”

Smooth, you think.

“Hey, trouble,” he returns, light amusement lacing his tone. It makes you nervous, like he’s clocked your little secret.

He gets up from his seat, and you can tell he’s going for a hug. You shock yourself into action and take the few steps to reach him. He envelops you in his strong arms just like he used to, and you take the opportunity to breathe in his scent. Smokey pine, whiskey, and a hint of mint—just like you remember.

You’re smiling like an idiot despite yourself as you pull away. Luckily, your dad makes an appearance before you say something embarrassing.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” he teases. “You remember my buddy Joel, dontch’a?”

Joel scoffs before you can answer. “‘Course she remembers me, Scott, known her since she was damn near in diapers.”

Your dad rolls his eyes. “Well, just to ask,” he argues.

You shake your head. Same banter between those two for as long as you can remember. They’ve been friends since your dad’s freshman highschool year, and Joel’s senior. Everyone who knows Joel and Scott considers them to be brothers as much as Joel and Tommy.

Cheeks heated, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up while they’re distracted. You shut the door and comb through your hair with your fingers, straighten your tank top, and wipe away the smudged mascara you didn’t care to wash off earlier.

When you look half-decent, you wash your hands and walk back to the dining room, choosing to ignore the fact that you just tidied yourself for your dad’s best friend. Totally normal thing to do, right?

Joel is sitting back in the same spot as you found him the first time, your dad in the seat opposite of him. There are three bowls of spaghetti served, one in front of each man, and one beside Joel. You’re not going to complain about that.

You slide into the seat next to him, flashing him a quick smile when he turns his head to acknowledge you. You swear his gaze lingers for a second, but it’s probably just wishful thinking.

You look away and dig into your food, zoning out as Joel and your dad talk about work. Joel’s presence beside you fuels your daydreaming, his deep, drawling voice keeping it running. You wish so badly to lean into him, feel the comfort of his embrace. Maybe more. You wish, not for the first time, that he would look at you the way you looked at him. You wish he would—

You jolt when you hear your name in conversation, your spaghetti-filled fork halfway to your mouth.

“No, I don’t think she’d mind at all, would’ya, honey?”

Your dad looks expectantly at you. Your eyes dart between him and Joel.

“Uh, sorry, what?” You ask, your cheeks heating for the second time tonight.

“Helping Joel out. I know it’s been some years, but it’s just basic stuff. Plus, it’ll be in—”

“Really, Scott, you don’t have to volunteer her if she don’t want to—”

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I don’t mind at all.”

In all honesty, you didn’t think your answer through. You have no idea what you just signed up for. Though, if it’s with Joel, it can’t be too bad.

“No, really, sweetheart,” Joel interjects. “I wouldn’t wanna have a pretty ‘lil’ thing workin’ away on her summer vacation.”

You turn to look at him, flashing him your sweetest eyes. He called you pretty—you feel like you might explode. “I really don’t mind.”

He waits for a moment before he clears his throat and turns back to your dad. “Alright then,” he says before taking a sip of his drink. “We leave for Hawaii next Tuesday.”

You just about choke on your dinner. Your dad laughs.

“Told you, Joel, she doesn’t listen to a damn thing we say.”

*****

Hawaii? For two weeks? With Joel? What do you even pack?

You stare at your suitcase, waiting for your closet to help you out and throw something in there. Should you bring sundresses or work clothes? Both, right? Probably both. Maybe more work clothes. You said you’d be helping, after all. But with what?

God, you should have just paid attention to that damn conversation.

It’s late Monday night, and you haven’t been able to pick up on enough over-the-phone conversation to get the gist of it. You need to stop being such a wuss and just ask. But that would mean calling Joel. Do you really want to call Joel?

Well, yes, of course you do. But do you really want to sound awkward around Joel? No, no you don’t. And you know that’s exactly what would be happening over the phone with a man you’ve never talked over the phone with.

You groan, flopping yourself onto your bed to stare at your ceiling and overthink. You don’t want to overpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you overpacked. But you also don’t want to underpack, because you don’t want Joel to see that you underpacked, either. This really shouldn’t be that hard. You’re about to get back up, say screw it, and throw a mixture in there, when you hear a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call, unmoving.

“Hey, honey,” your dad says as he creeps in. “Just got off the phone with Joel.”

You sit up at this. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, he figured you might want some advice on what to pack.”

Oh thank God.

“Said he’s gonna be puttin’ you to work, but to bring some pretty clothes if you want. There’s a pool at the place you’ll be workin’ at, and a beach nearby.”

You nod along, thanking all that is holy that Joel had the idea to give you some input.

Your dad eyes your empty suitcase and raises a brow in your direction.

“He’ll be here around 4:00am, so be ready by then.” He looks back at you. “I love you, sweetheart, I’ll see you when you get back.”

He gives you a hug and closes your door.

You take Joel’s advice and pack mostly for work—with a few pretty things just in case.

*****

As expected, Joel’s truck is in your driveway at 4:00am on the dot. You’re in the passenger seat and headed for the airport by 4:03.

The ride is less tense than you thought it would be, mostly because the two of you are so tired. You’re practically in a coma against the window, the dull classic country music playing quietly from the old truck’s speakers lulling you to sleep. Joel is in about the same mindset, the lazy drumming of his fingers against the wheel the only thing convincing you he’s still awake.

Buildings pass in a dark blur, everything mushed together into one big half-dream. Joel’s scent fills the cab, sealing the state you’re in. You glance at the clock: 4:48. You blink, and it’s 5:20, the truck is stopped at the airport, and Joel is gently nudging you awake. You squint at him, the cab light rudely intruding, and you can just barely make out the faint smile on his lips. You have a strong urge to lean forward and kiss him, but thankfully you’re conscious enough to not make a complete fool of yourself right now.

“C’mon, darlin’, we got a plane to catch.”

You nod, trying to get your bearings. Joel slides out of his side of the truck, and you follow out of yours, getting a good stretch in before leaning back into the cab and retrieving your suitcase from the narrow backseat. When you make your way around the truck to Joel, he gently grabs it from your hand.

You look at him, mouth open and ready to argue, but he gives you a look that makes you shut it just as quick. Your stomach flutters at the gesture, and you kind of want to slap him for it. Or maybe yourself. Either way, you keep close to him until you’re entering through the sliding doors out front.

It only takes about an hour to get through TSA and in line to board the plane, but you’re wide awake by then. And hungry.

“Hey Joel,” you whisper. He hums at you but doesn’t look down.

“I’m hungry.”

Now he looks at you. “I don’t think we got time to grab anything now, darlin’, but we should have a layover at LAX in about three hours. Think you can hold tight ‘till then?”

You nod, trying not to overthink the conversation. It was literally a few words exchanged between the two of you, but it might be the first time you’ve conversed alone outside of your dad’s house. It felt domestic to you in a way that makes you feel like an idiot. It was one conversation.

Of course, you have to ruin the moment by humming “Party in the USA”. I mean, it’s Joel’s fault. He was the one to mention LAX.

He laughs and nudges you. “Quit that,” he commands, though you can tell he thinks it’s funny. You giggle but indulge him.

“Fine,” you draw out. “Somebody hates fun.”

He scoffs another laugh, but says nothing.

Finally, the two of you are next to board. You stop around the middle of the plane, and Joel hoists your bags into the compartment above your seats. Then, he moves aside to let you in first.

“By the window, darlin’,” he says.

You smile with excitement and settle in, Joel sitting next to you a second later.

“Your dad said somethin’ about it bein’ your first time flyin’, so I figured you might want a window seat,” he explains.

Your heart warms at this. Why does he have to be so thoughtful?

“Thank you, Joel,” you say genuinely, flashing him a smile. It may be the lighting, but you swear you see his cheeks pink up just a little before he nods and faces forward.

The flight goes by relatively quickly. Joel does some sort of paperwork on the little desk in front of him, and you pop your earbuds in and listen to a downloaded playlist while you read. The light romance you chose was cute, but it failed to distract you completely from the hunk of man beside you.

You’re not sure how many times you caught yourself staring at the flex of his wrist as he wrote whatever down. It was maybe once or twice that your eyes found their way up to his bicep, possibly a few times that they landed on his lower lip, his teeth bitten into it in concentration. You definitely got heated more times than you would’ve liked. And as your book started heating as well, you had to put it down. You really hope it’s not just you that feels this new tension.

For the last twenty minutes or so, you’ve been looking out the window, content to listen to your music and watch the land go by. For the last five, you’ve felt Joel’s eyes on you. You refuse to look back at him, though, just in case it’s your imagination.

But you swear you can feel the weight of his stare. You fidget, trying to ignore the feeling as you stare out the window and at the clouds. Then you hear a sharp sound from the speakers

through your earbuds.

You take them off and look back at Joel as the pilot informs you that you should be landing in about ten minutes.

He was staring at you, and he didn’t look away. You don’t look away now, either. You don’t say anything.

“Thank you for comin’ with me, darlin’.”

You’re taken aback. Of course you would go with him.

“It’s no problem, Joel,” you say. He gives you a short smile. “I mean, really,” you joke. “You’re the one taking me on a free vacation.”

He smiles fully this time and rolls his eyes. He tends to do that a lot with you. It makes you smile too.

The speaker dings again:

“Should be some light turbulence, but we’ll be on the ground soon, folks.”

Joel looks away after the announcement, gathering his work to put back into his bag. You shake yourself off and choose not to acknowledge whatever the hell that was.

******

You knew LAX would be busy, but. Holy shit. This place is insane.

You keep close to Joel as he navigates the two of you through the crowds and to your next gate. He keeps slightly in front of you, and you keep getting the urge to grab his hand to keep up, but you don’t. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this many people in one place—and you thought the Austin airport had been overwhelming.

There are a million shops and restaurants and gates as you make your way down the massive hallways, up and down the escalators, and through trains. It takes an hour and fifteen before you can even see the sign for your gate. Your legs hurt from walking, and your head hurts from all the noise.

You keep an eye on some of the closer restaurants you pass so that you can backtrack to them and grab a bagel or something before you have to get on your plane. You catch a glimpse of a Burger King when you’re suddenly slammed into.

You gasp as you’re sent flying onto your ass by a man who couldn’t be bothered to glance your way to see if you’re alright. Joel whips around and sets the bags down, quickly helping you up.

“Shit, are you alright, darlin’?” he asks, a deep concern in his eyes. Your cheeks are burning with embarrassment even though it wasn’t your fault.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Joel looks you up and down to make sure as you stand on your own two feet. He turns around, trying to scope out the man who bumped into you, and turns back when he finds that he’s long gone.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he finally says. “People don’t give a rat’s ass here.”

You nod, smiling at his choice of words. “I’m alright, Joel.”

He sighs and picks his bag back up, slinging the large weight over his shoulder, and then picks your suitcase up in one hand. WIth the other, he grabs onto yours. His hand is rough but warm and comforting.

“Just stay close ‘till we get to the gate.”

Practically glowing, you hold onto him and let him lead the way. It only takes a few more minutes before he’s telling you to sit down at the waiting area.

“I’m gonna grab you somethin’ to eat, ‘nd I’ll be right back.”

You decide to read while he’s on his errand, picking your book back up to a particularly smutty part. You’re not going to pretend like you aren’t picturing the characters as you and Joel as he eats her out on a countertop. You bite your lip, consuming each word with fervor.

You’re just finishing the chapter when Joel strolls up with two breakfast sandwiches, a coffee, and an orange juice. He hands you a sandwich and the latter drink, and takes the seat next to you with a groan.

“Probably have at least thirty minutes,” he grumbles.

You nod as you thank him and unwrap your sandwich. It’s silent for a few minutes, before you can’t bear it and break the peace.

“What all are we going to be doing?”

Joel looks at you, almost flustered. He must have misheard you. “Huh?”

“Like when we get there, what are we going to be working on?”

“Oh, uh,” he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee. “Mostly flooring ‘nd some drywall, but there should be somethin’ to do in the kitchen if I’m hearin’ right.”

You nod and take a bite of your sandwich. Joel continues.

“Should have a few days to relax, though, if we get everythin’ done in time.”

Your stomach flips at the thought. A few days to relax with Joel.

“Sounds easy enough,” you say.

Joel nods again. “Atta girl.”

“Flight 332 is ready to begin boarding.”

You and Joel take the last bites of your sandwich in silence and stand up to get in line once again. This flight is going to be longer, about six hours.

Joel throws your trash away and comes back to grab your bags. Same as last time, you have a seat by the window. Not like it matters much in the long run, because just after Joel takes his seat and the plane takes off, your head falls onto his shoulder, and you promptly fall asleep.

******

Thank you for reading!! Part two should be coming soon.

Itty bitty mini taglist: @callachloe @kewwrites @casa-boiardi @pastawench (love you guys)

Pls let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt. 2!

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou #joel miller the last of us #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #fluff #x reader #dbf joel miller #dbf pedro pascal #dbf!joel

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o-sachi · 2 days

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─── Sachi's Selfship Event ✦

Heya, here's my event for my 500 followers milestone. It's been fun writing my silly thoughts and sharing it on this blog. Thanks for all the support y'all have given me. But, as I've mentioned in my last post, I'll start writing on a different blog.

✦ The Event ───

Basically, you tell me about your selfship and I give you a set of headcanons based on the SFW alphabet (see content under the cut for the alphabet). For moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

For fandoms, please keep it within Blue Lock, Wind Breaker, Mashle, and Kaiju no. 8!

✦ Instructions ───

Send me an ask containing the following: your chosen character, your chosen letters, your likes & dislikes, love languages (receiving and giving), hobbies, interests, basic description of your appearance, picrews, random facts, some of your own lore about your selfship, etc. —literally everything that can help me write a more accurate set of headcanons

* Since some people might not be comfortable sharing their info, I’ll keep the asks in my inbox and tag you on your post instead. But if you’re on anon, I have no choice but to answer the ask.

✦ Rules ───

1. Do not rush me with your request. If you’ve sent me an ask, I’ve definitely read it.

2. Only one selfship per person!

3. Do not include any nsfw information in the ask that you will send me.

Note: Depending on the amount of asks I get, I might not be able to fulfill all of them. Of course, moots and followers take priority!

Fulfilled Letters !

✉️: Letter for Lumi ✉️: Letter for Candy ✉️: Letter for Amy ✉️: Letter for Rye

Check under the cut for the letters you can choose from ~

These are just general descriptions for each letter, but based on the info you'll give me, I can delve into it deeper and provide stuff beyond what is written here.

A - Affection How do they show their affection for you? Do they get bouts of cuteness aggression?

B - Best Quality What they think is/are your best quality/ies and why

C - Comfort How do they comfort you when you're sad and down?

D - Dates What kind of dates do you two like to go on? How frequent?

E - Early Relationship How did you two get together? What was it like when you were just first starting out?

F - Fights What do you usually fight over? Do you quarrel often? How do things get resolved? Who says sorry first?

G - Gifts Their favorite gift that they got from you or a gift they've given to you. Do they like receiving gifts? If so, what kinds?

H - Hugs Are they a hugger? What kinds of hugs do they prefer? What about cuddling?

I - Intimacy What makes you feel connected at a deeper level? What kind of romance do you have?

J - Jealousy How jealous are they? How do they deal with it?

K - Kisses How do they kiss you? Do they like kissing?

L - Laughter What are your inside jokes? What do you usually laugh about together? Who's funnier?

M - Memories What is your most cherished memory together?

N - Nicknames Do they like nicknames? If so, what do they like to be called or what do they call you?

O - Other People What do other people think about your relationship? (Family, friends, co-workers, etc.)

P - Patience How patient are they? Who's the more patient one between the two of you? What happens if they lose their patience?

Q - Quirks What are some quirks you adopted from each other? Or what are the quirks that only come out when you're together?

R - Rituals What are some things in your routines that you like to do together? Is it common or unusual? How frequent is it? Is it a daily, weekly, or annual thing?

S - Support How do they show their support for your hobbies and interests? How involved are they?

T - Time Apart How do you spend your time apart? Who caves first? Who handles it better?

U - Uniqueness What sets you apart from other couples?

V - Values What are your shared values?

W - Wildcard Random headcanon about your relationship

X - XOXO What are the little things that they do for you? Do you notice them or maybe they go unnoticed?

Y - Yin & Yang How do you complement each other? How do you make them a better person? Or how do you make them happier? Are you two opposites or are you more similar to each other?

Z - Zrandom (sorry ran out of ideas, forgive me) Pick a theme or any topic and I'll make a headcanon for it :)

Again, for moots and followers that I recognize, I’ll do 10 letters. For everyone else, 8 letters. And for anons, 6 letters.

#sachi's ss event #blue lock #wind breaker #blue lock x reader #wind breaker x reader #self ship #selfship #self shipping #bllk #winbre #blue lock headcanons #wind breaker headcanons #selfshipping #ty @/cafekitsune for the dividers!#mashle #kaiju no. 8 #mashle x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader

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steddiebang2024 · 2 days

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I Wake With Your Memory Over Me (That’s a Real Fucking Legacy to Leave) | Mature | 30k

Author: marvel-ous-m

Artist: hellfireloserclub

Beta Reader: billystarpip03

[Link to fic] | [Link to art]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Original Female Character, Dustin Henderson, Other Characters Mentioned

Tags: Friends to Lovers to Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Right Person Wrong Time, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Skip, Isolated!Steve Harrington, Angst, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Sense of Self, Codependency, Depression, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Found Family, Happy Ending

Trigger Warnings: Depression, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms (Alcohol Abuse), Adultery

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

Steve Harrington-Morris is 29 and has his life figured out. He's married to a gorgeous woman who's in her emergency medicine residency, he lives in a beautiful apartment in downtown Chicago, he has a solid relationship with his parents, and he gets to spend his days relaxing as a househusband.

Sure, he's sort of isolated, seeing as he doesn't really have friends, but he has his wife- when she's willing able to spend time with him.

Yeah, it's definitely not the life he dreamed he'd have back when he was a teenager, but it's the life he got, so who is he to complain?

A series of realizations shakes Steve from this mindset, and has him deciding to attend a Corroded Coffin show, with the hope that he'll be able to reconnect with the man he once loved: up-and-coming rockstar, Eddie Munson.

He... doesn't have much of an idea for what to do after that, but he knows that seeing Eddie is the first step he needs to make in the plan to reclaim his life.

Hopefully, the rest will come easy.

(Spoiler Alert: It really, really doesn't.)

#steddiebang24 #steddie #steddie big bang #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steddie fanart #steve harrington #steddiebang24 masterpost

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narvan-jester · 3 days

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Save A Horse (Bull)

WC: 4,871

Tags: Alternate Universe - Western, Rodeo Competitions, Cowboy Hats, Alcohol, Making Out, Not Beta Read, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Alternate Universe - No Band

Read under the cut or on AO3

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before. Phantom's eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Phantom ends up grabbing a drink with Bull Rider Swiss.

Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the incoming headache brought on by the overwhelming sights, sounds, and smells around him, endured for far too long. He let out a sigh. “Aurora, promise me that after this show we'll leave,” he asked, exasperated.

Aurora, his best friend for longer than he could remember, just smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Come on, Tommy, I can't believe you're not enjoying it! Let loose a little, we haven't even seen the goats yet!”

Phantom frowned, wagging his finger in her face. “Oh no, no, no, I know how you work. I've known you long enough. Thirty minutes is going to turn into three hours before you know it. And!” He said, pressing the finger over her lips, keeping them shut as she tried to protest. “You only want to see this next show because you think the rider’s hot. I know you, you never enjoy bull riding.”

Aurora swatted Phantom’s hand away, a pout forming on her face. “You're no fun,” she whined, lifting her hat to sweep her hair back before settling it back on her head. “Besides, after this show there's barrel racing, and I wanted to study some of the riders. You know the Cirrus is here!”

God, Phantom wishes he wasn't so susceptible to Aurora’s charms. “Fine. We'll stay until after Cirrus' show, then we'll leave. Deal?”

Aurora pouted slightly. “Deal. Now come on, we have to get good seats.” She practically dragged him up the metal risers, sitting him down forcefully and plopping herself right next to him. “You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it!”

The pounding behind Phantom’s eyes only increased as a crowd began to gather, mumbling half-heartedly about how he was “missing the sheep shows” and had “already seen the steers”.

He tried valiantly to focus, for Aurora if anything, as the speakers crackled to life. He squinted up at the screen, watching a big black bull shake and toss his head from side to side, restless and stubborn in the closed-off space.

Some name shone on the screen, flashing away before he could read all of it, only catching something like “Swiss”. He rolled his eyes as Aurora poked him a little, straining her neck a little to talk to him close enough to be heard. “That's the one. He'll be last.”

Phantom gave some sort of a half-entertained grunt, seemingly enough for Aurora to not jab him in the ribs.

He didn't pay much attention to the few poor riders flung right off their smaller, tamer bulls, feeling Aurora tense in sympathy as each one hit the ground. Only when he faintly heard the intercom announce the name did he perk up for Aurora’s sake. Not that he needed to be listening, Aurora’s sharp punch in the shoulder was enough for him to straighten up, eyes locked on the screen.

The black bull seemed somewhat more wild than before, possibly helped along by the bull rope now tied around it. His eyes widened a little as the man on screen tilted his face to the camera, flashing it a bright, confident smile. Fuck, maybe it was a good thing Aurora made him stay. The dude definitely wasn't hard on the eyes.

Aurora must have sensed his thoughts, because she once more strained up to talk too loudly into his ear. “I told you he was hot!”

Phantom grumbled, face going red as he pushed her away playfully. “Shut up and watch the show.”

The man has since turned his attention from the camera, carefully mounting the bull. And if Phantom’s eyes were admiring his body as he settled onto the bull on the screens, no one needed to know.

He tore his gaze away from the screen as a shrill beep echoed through the arena, instead looking down to watch the bull rip from its spot into the arena, bucking wildly to rid itself of the parasite on its back.

Phantom couldn't keep his eyes off the man’s hips, rolling and shifting in quick adjustments to accommodate the rapid shift of weight, thighs pinching close to its flank and one hand raised in the air, the other wrapped white-knuckled around the rope.

His movements were fluid, oddly natural as if he fused with the bull itself.

It seemed both an eternity later and far too soon that another buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the ride just eight seconds later. The rider jumped off, rolling into the ground almost gracefully, before hopping to his feet and jogging to the edge where he easily slipped over the fence, dropping onto the other side without issue and quickly absorbed into a wave of bodies.

Phantom was nearly oblivious to the cheers around him, until Aurora giggled beside him. “I bet now you're glad I made you stay,” she teased.

Phantom rolled his eyes, but in truth, his headache was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. In fact, now the pain was nearly imperceptible, as if it wasn't there at all. “You,” he sighed. “I am going to get you back for this.”

Aurora giggled again. “Yeah, sure you will,” she said, eyes only half focused on the bull being rounded up below as they began setting up for the next event. “Come on, there's at least a few minutes until the barrel racing starts, let's grab something quick to eat.”

Phantom simply nodded, following Aurora down the stands with the rest of the previous crowd. Most of the crowd seemed to gather in a throng near where he had spotted the rider jump out of the pen, clearly clambering for a grin or a fist bump or an autograph from the little local celebrity.

He barely noticed he had stopped until Aurora was back at his side, tugging him away. “You absolute dunce, you stick with me, you hear me? I don't care if you want Mr. Swiss Cheese over there to give you a bright little grin, I want a cheeseburger.”

Phantom rolled his eyes, letting himself be dragged along by her. “When do you not want a cheeseburger?”

“Shut your mouth,” she snipped playfully, just continuing to pull him along.

* * *

The little burst of energy gained from watching the bull rider was drained from them too quick for their liking, headache once again presenting to pound at their temples as they sat through all the barrel racing for Aurora. Their gaze barely tracked the rider Aurora had wanted to see, only giving a hum of acknowledgement as she gushed over her methods.

He sort of registered her saying something to him, but it was drowned under a wave of fuzz and pain in his head. The next thing he really noticed was Aurora no longer being by his side, and the realization was enough to immediately zap his brain into overdrive.

His gaze immediately darted over the heads of the surrounding crowd, trying to grasp a glance of her tan hat and failing. He grumbled a little under his breath, wishing she hadn't worn the damned thing when she wasn't even competing just so he could see her colored hair bouncing through the crowd.

Phantom knew she could hold her own in a fight, unfortunately from personal experience, but that didn't still his worry of something serious happening to her. With no other reasonable idea in mind, he set to a brisk walk, hoping to somehow stumble across her.

He took several rounds around the arena, stopping at her favorite food trucks and brushing past the goats just in case. His breath only seemed to quicken in his worry, pulling out his phone to see if he could call her.

He bent over his screen, tapping it and clicking the power button. Fuck. Of course it stayed black, dead. He pocketed it, sighing more with worry than exasperation as he decided to branch out to places he hadn't looked.

God, it was loud. Concrete and sheet metal did not agree with his ears. The floor was covered in a fine layer of dirt and hay dust, which he kicked up with each step. The smell of sweet fair food mixing with animal feces turned his stomach, combined with the worry making it all that more nauseating.

Phantom wasn't even sure where he was walking, barely noticing the fewer people around him as he walked, opening and closing the little metal gates separating areas behind him.

A shrill whistle suddenly caught his attention, turning around to meet the source as someone approached him, rubbing sweat off their face with a bandana. “Ho boy, watcha’ doing back here? You got clearance, or you with anybody?”

His eyes squinted a little, faintly recognizing the face twisted in confusion. “Uh, not sure, but I'm looking for my friend. About yay high, pink and blue dyed hair?” Phantom asked, gesturing. “You seen her?”

The man shrugged. “Probably not back here. Y'know this is where the riders and such are supposed to be?”

Phantom’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit! My bad, haven't been to this venue before. I'll go look elsewhere,” he stammered, stepping back slightly.

The man grinned at him and that finally sparked Phantom’s memory. Jesus fuck, that was the bull rider. Swiss, or whatever his name was. “No need to worry, buddy, no one minds much, just as long as you don't cause problems on purpose. Besides, maybe…” he trailed off, scrubbing a little at the stubble on his face as he thought. “You said pink and blue dyed hair?” He asked.

Phantom’s eyes lit up a little. “Yeah, about shoulder length, and a tan hat.”

Swiss' eyes widened and he chuckled, as he patted Phantom’s shoulder like they were old friends. “I wouldn't bother myself looking for her right now, unless it's a real emergency. I saw Cirrus walking out of here with a little lass matching just the description.”

Phantom lifted his hand to his face, exasperated. “You're joking, right?”

“Nope! Seems like your little friend has wormed her way into the eyes of the big dogs! Trust me, if you go after her now she will kill you, if Cirrus doesn't do it first,” Swiss commented, a bit too casually for Phantom’s liking.

Swiss flashed another of his smiles at Phantom, and his short-lived annoyance vanished in an instant. “Message heard loud and clear. Might as well congratulate you for your time on the bull out there before I get out of your hair.”

Swiss' expression shifted minimally, rummaging in his pockets for something. “Yeah, yeah, it was a tough bull. You got a hat or something for me to sign?”

Phantom’s brow furrowed. “No, no, I don't need an autograph. Never a huge fan of bull riding.”

Swiss' face shifted again, seemingly more light-hearted as he tucked a sharpie back into his pocket. “Damn, hitting me with that now?” He joked, once again slapping Phantom on the shoulder.

Phantom’s face flushed as he groaned, hiding it in his hands. “You know what I meant,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I catch your drift. What's your name, kid? You compete in anything?” Swiss asked, nudging Phantom again.

Phantom forced his hands back to his sides with more effort than it should have taken. “I'm Phantom, but most people call me Tom or Tommy. More normal, easier to remember. I typically show sheep or steers, some roping, but this one was too high level for me to really get in,” he told Swiss, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Swiss shrugged, beginning to walk away, gesturing with one hand for Phantom to follow him. “Phantom ain't a bad name. God, at least you're not stuck with the nickname Swiss.” He raised a hand as Phantom opened his mouth to object, almost as though he had sensed it. “Trust me, used to not be as much of a good thing.”

Phantom clicked his mouth shut audibly, nodding along. “No, no, I get it. It's why I started going by Tom instead of Phantom.”

Swiss whistled. “Trust me, kid, you take that uniqueness and hold it tight. No one’s gonna watch if there ain't no bull on the field.”

Phantom tilted his head minutely at the comparison, tucking it away in their mind to ponder over later. “So when do you think Aurora- er, my friend, is going to be back?” He asked, changing the subject.

Swiss chuckled, hunching his shoulders a little bit as that dazzling grin lit up his face once more. “I'd give you two hours at best. At worst, you ain’t seeing hair nor hide of her till morning.”

“Fucking hell,” Phantom groaned, running his hand over his face. “I'm not sure whether to be more disappointed or proud of her.”

That got Swiss to let loose more than his previous chuckles, laughter setting something fizzing and popping in Phantom’s stomach. “Yeah, yeah,” Swiss said, waving away the last of his laughter with a hand. “Say, since you're probably stuck here for a little longer, you wanna sneak out and grab a quick drink with me?”

Phantom's eyes nearly popped from his head. “Well, if you're offering,” he joked, trying to slow his jumping and stuttering heartbeat to a normal speed once more.

Swiss chuckled again, flashing Phantom yet another bright smile. “C’mon, I'll drive us there if you won't mind. My truck ain't far.”

Phantom nodded almost over enthusiastically, energy seeping to pop over his skin. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good!”

Swiss nodded, smile dropping into something more sober as he reached an exit door, pulling his keys into his hand in preparation. “Don't stop for anything, don't talk to anyone. Try and walk as quick as possible, I really don't want to end up signing fifteen more autographs,” he groaned, rolling his wrist.

Phantom nodded, attitude sobering with Swiss as he stepped through the door, pace immediately fast enough to have Phantom stumbling to keep up.

Swiss stopped beside a tall black truck, unlocking it and climbing in. Phantom took to the other side, lifting himself up slightly into the passenger's seat. Swiss shut his door firmly and Phantom did the same, watching as Swiss leaned his head back, eyes closed with a sigh.

Phantom took the moment to rove his eyes over the interior of the truck. Several crushed energy drink cans lay on the floor at his feet, more on the dash and in the backseat. Otherwise, the truck was sleek and clean, furnished by shiny black leather.

Phantom’s eyes darted back to Swiss as he heard a little chuckle, smiling a little awkwardly at him as Swiss gazed back. “Sorry about the mess, most of my buddy’s don't mind,” he said, straightening in his seat and sliding his key into the ignition. “Just throw them in the back seat if they're bothering you.”

“No, no, it's alright,” Phantom said, mind a little dazed still. The conversation drew to an awkward silence as Phantom drew the seatbelt over his body, clicking it into place. “Know any good places around here?” He asked, trying to get the conversation up and running again.

Swiss chuckled, shaking his head as he did the same. “No, no, not really from around here. You?”

“Couple towns over,” Phantom replied, studying Swiss as he began to pull out of the grounds. “We just gonna show up to the first bar we see and hope it ain't crowded?”

Swiss shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Well, I know one place. You a fan of underground shows?”

Phantom shrugged a little. “I'm pretty much up to anything as long as the beer’s good and the music’s good,” he stated simply.

“Then you might damn near love this place,” Swiss grinned, tossing a glance to Phantom before leaning over and turning up the radio, letting the music fill the truck for the drive.

A few minutes later, Swiss pulled into a little near-empty parking garage, switching off the ignition. “Alright, Phantom, I'm about to blow your mind,” he said, stretching both his arms high over his head with a groan.

Phantom shrugged, a little nip of anxiety working its way into his brain. “You didn't bring me here to kill me, did you?”

Swiss barked out a laugh, warm enough for Phantom to forget his previous worry. “God, of course not! Trust me a little here,” he joked, slipping out of the truck, Phantom following.

Swiss waited until Phantom rounded the truck to meet him, setting off not in the direction of the exit, but instead to a small metal maintenance door inset into the wall. “Wait, Swiss, what are you doing?” Phantom asked, heart rate skipping as Swiss reached for the handle.

“Dude,” Swiss placated, pointing at the metal plaque. “I said it was gonna be an underground show.”

Phantom fixed his attention on the plaque, quickly skimming the words. Raindrop Bar. “Huh,” he muttered simply, tilting his head at the door as Swiss rolled his eyes playfully and pushed his way in.

The atmosphere inside was far different from the empty parking garage they had been in just a moment before. It was populated, for one, eyes pinning on them the moment the door opened before slipping away one by one. It was also louder, too, a little rag-tag band up on a makeshift stage playing something deep and rocky. Dull colored lights swept over the small crowd gathered in front of the stage, and it took a moment for Phantom to realize that Swiss was walking away from him.

They hurried to follow, nearly tripping over themselves as they caught up to Swiss right as he slid into a seat at the bar, flashing a grin at the bartender. Phantom slid in beside him, shifting to get comfortable in the polished wood seat.

The bartender smiled back at Swiss, immediately turning to greet him, sashaying his hips. “Swiss, Swiss, Swiss, what am I going to do with you?” He cooed affectionately.

Phantom’s eyes quickly darted over the bartender’s body, a casual glance-over before his brain caught up to him and his eyes locked on him again. To say he was beautiful would be an understatement, with his curled black hair shining nearly blue around his eyes and with the silver glinting from his ears and face. Their eyes traveled lower for a moment before they diverted their attention, a little panicked and flushed, back to Swiss.

“God, Rainy, don't even try to get on me for this,” Swiss jeered playfully. “You're not much better.”

The bartender turned his attention to Phantom, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Swiss. “Now what's your name and your order?” He asked quickly, stepping back to grab a cup.

“Uh-” Phantom stuttered, glancing at Swiss for a little help. God, it did not help. Swiss was gazing at him with a hungry look in his eyes, grinning lazily. He tore his eyes away as quick as possible, warmth brewing in his gut. “Name's Phantom. How about a good ol’ judge of character?” Phantom asked, mind too frazzled to grasp anything else. “Whatever you think I'd like.”

The bartender nodded, hips swaying a little bit as he whipped up what looked like a cherry sour, sliding it to Swiss. “Gotcha.” He hummed idly, pulling stuff towards himself before speaking again. “So how’d little Swiss here pick you up?”

Phantom shrugged, glancing at Swiss only to be met once more with his grin and forcing himself to look away. “I wandered where I shouldn't have, and sweet talked my way into my current situation,” Phantom joked, trying to play up his confidence. The bartender hummed, eyebrow twitching upward as he slid Phantom a cocktail, orange slice perched on the edge of the glass. Phantom lifted the glass to his lips, sipping it and humming appreciatively at the perfect mix of flavoring and liquor.

Swiss sighed, sipping his own drink. “Yeah, yeah, pretty much,” he commented, waving his hand dismissively. “Phantom, by the way, this is Rain. Good friend.”

Phantom nodded at Rain, smile a little tight as he took another sip of his drink. Rain flourished his hands, shrugging and lolling his head to the side. “Owner of this fine establishment,” he added, voice a little playful.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Swiss joked, taking his hat off his head and tossing it playfully at Rain. Rain caught it, slipping it onto his own head and sticking his tongue out at Swiss as Phantom felt his chest constrict, knowing exactly what that meant.

He diverted his gaze, and downed the rest of his drink, barely registering the taste and instead reveling in the mild burn as it slipped down his throat.

Swiss chuckled at Rain, glancing back at Phantom as he clinked his empty glass back onto the table, stubbornly refusing to look at him. Phantom could feel his expression fall. “Whoa, dude, you okay? Are you still worried about your friend?”

Phantom clenched his teeth, shaking his head and rubbing at the side of his nose a little, huffing, refusing to make eye contact.

Swiss beckoned for his hat back from Rain, quickly sucking the last of his drink up as he shifted slightly in his seat, reaching into a back pocket to slide a ten over the bar. “Alright, let's get you back,” Swiss said, voice quick as he stood, clapping Phantom on the shoulder.

God, he wished he could refuse, but his truck was back at the grounds and his phone was dead so he couldn't call a ride. Damnit. He stood, eyes still stubbornly lowered as he followed Swiss out, missing the look Rain threw him.

He slipped into the passenger seat without saying a word to Swiss, refusing to meet eyes with him. Swiss got in as well, shutting the door, but not starting the ignition.

As the tension stretched between them, Phantom finally glanced up, meeting Swiss' eyes where they were locked on him. “You going to acknowledge me now?” Swiss asked, voice a little sour.

God, maybe alcohol wasn't the best idea for him. That drink must have been stronger than they thought, rolling their eyes and scoffing. “Just take me back, dude.”

Swiss tilted his head. “No,” he deadpanned.

“No?” Phantom sputtered indignantly, glaring at Swiss.

Swiss crossed his arms in front of his chest, brown eyes glowing almost gold from the interior lights shining down on them. Phantom furrowed his brow, cowered a little, suddenly too aware of how much scrawnier they were than Swiss.

“You're a bitch,” Phantom hummed, waving him away and turning his face out the opposite window.

“What upset you so bad?” Swiss asked, voice low and gravely behind Phantom. He stayed stubbornly quiet, making Swiss sigh. “I know this is about Rain and the hat.”

“Yeah, it is about the fucking hat!” Phantom spat with no real malice behind the words, feeling like nothing more than a jealous schoolgirl.

Swiss groaned, and Phantom spared a glance as he dragged his hand over his face, rubbing at the stubble on the sides. “Christ,” he muttered.

“Just take me back,” Phantom muttered, voice a little too quiet. “I was being stupid.”

He suddenly felt a hand grasp his, and gasped indignantly as Swiss dragged it closer to himself onto the center console. Phantom fixed a glare to the top of Swiss' hat as he bent over his hand, writing rapidly into the skin of it.

The moment Swiss straightened, Phantom snatched his hand back, a glance at the skin of his hand making his breath stutter just a bit as he realized what was written there.

Swiss was waiting as Phantom looked back up at his eyes, offering a small smile at him. Phantom squinted, then sighed, eyes darting down again. “Fine. Apology accepted.”

Swiss raised an eyebrow. “That was enough of an apology for you?”

Phantom gazed into Swiss' eyes, scrutinizing them. “What more apology do you have to offer?” He asked, maybe a tinge recklessly.

Swiss slowly raised his hand to the one he had just written on, brushing lightly over the knuckle, sparks flying from the contact. His eyes never left where they were locked on Phantom’s, and he found he couldn't look away either.

It stayed that way for a few moments, long enough for the interior lights to click off. In the dark silence, Swiss spoke again. “Can I kiss you?”

Any other circumstance and Phantom would have said no. Maybe it was the alcohol in his system, or the drying ink on his hand, or the tingles in his gut when he recalled Swiss' grin, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he nodded, just a little tilt of the head, leaning towards Swiss.

Swiss met him halfway, lips crashing together in the dark and noses knocking into each other. It wasn't simple or graceful, instead woven with too many complex emotions to study in the dark.

Phantom pulled back for air, chest heaving a little as he tilted his forehead into Swiss’, nudging up his cowboy hat slightly. It seemed almost intimate for a moment, breathing in each other's air, until Phantom darted in again, mouth open and hot against Swiss’.

A hand fisted into his shirt at his back, pulling him closer. The kiss was nearly ravenous, and Phantom couldn't seem to get enough. Swiss pulled away for air this time, and Phantom felt a thin string of spit connect their lips for a moment before falling away.

They sat for a few more moments, chests heaving in tandem as they breathed in each other's warm, humid breath. Swiss twisted his head, nosing at Phantom's neck, hat falling onto the floor without care.

Phantom gasped as Swiss' warm lips plastered themselves to his neck, hands snaking around to grip Swiss' shirt tightly in his hands, eyes fluttering slightly.

Warm, wet kisses were gently placed along his neck, trailing upward to a point just under his ear. Phantom must have whined, gasped, something, because Swiss chuckled before gripping the skin lightly between his teeth and sucking.

“Oh fuck, Swiss, Swiss,” Phantom stammered, nails digging into Swiss' back from where they were clenched.

Swiss pulled away, eyes searching Phantom’s in the low light. “Too much?” He asked, a little sheepish.

“Fuck no,” Phantom managed to mutter, dragging Swiss back towards him and crashing their lips together with more passion than before. Open-mouthed and messy, Phantom reveled in the taste of whiskey on his tongue, whining as Swiss nipped gently at his bottom lip before pulling back again, locking eyes.

They were both panting, hungry with passion. “I need to get you back,” Swiss whispered, voice still too loud for the quiet space punctuated only by their heavy breaths.

“I know,” Phantom replied, voice equal in volume, still unable to tear their eyes away from each other.

“Fuck,” Swiss sighed, pulling away with great effort and sliding the key into the ignition, sparking the engine to life. He picked his hat up from where it had fallen, slipping it back onto his head.

Phantom straitened, a blush spreading on their face as they buckled quickly, embarrassed as light from yellow street lamps washed away the privacy.

It was quiet the entire drive back to the grounds, breaths returning to a normal pace as they kept their eyes averted from each other the whole way.

Swiss eased into a parking spot at the grounds, shifting the truck into park. Phantom undid his seatbelt, opening the door and preparing to step out when Swiss' voice stopped him. “Hey.”

He glanced up to meet Swiss' eyes, irises carrying hope in their deep blue, nearly purple depths.

Swiss took his hat in his hand, reaching and settling it onto Phantom’s hair with a tired smirk. “Call me?” He asked, voice softer than his words suggested.

Phantom nodded, mind feeling fuzzy as he absent-mindedly brushed his fingers over his neck where he could feel bruises forming. “Yeah,” he replied, voice equally as soft as he stepped out of the truck, shutting the door. He stood there as Swiss shifted into reverse, pealing away from him.

And if Phantom stood there for a few minutes, rubbing along his neck, it was nobody's business.

Finally Phantom forced himself into action, glancing around to gain his bearings before setting off in the direction of his truck. His eyes lit up a little as he saw a familiar shape leaning against it, face illuminated by her phone screen. She glanced up as Phantom came closer, smiling at him, before furrowing her eyes at him.

“Did you-”

Phantom cut her off before she could continue. “I won't say anything if you won't,” he mumbled, eyes pointedly fixed on similar marks along the column of her throat.

She shrugged in reply.

“Were you waiting long?” Phantom asked, sidling up to the driver's door, opening it.

Aurora climbing in the other side, shrugging again. “Just a few minutes.” Phantom shut his door, turning on the truck before reaching to the gear shift. Aurora’s eyes locked on his hand as it shifted, widening as she chuckled. “Damn, you did get lucky!” She exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Phantom mumbled, tugging his sleeve over the marker half-heartedly as he began steering them in the direction of home.

#the band ghost #nameless ghouls #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #ghost fic #cowboy au

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sundew199 · 21 hours

Text

Times Two, Pt.2

a/n: yeah the brain rot on this got to me really bad. definitely recommend reading pt.1 if you haven't, this picks up right where it ended. I also just want to make a point that there is more Reijean in this sooo, yeah.

tags: reiner x f!reader x jean, threesome, establishing a potential relationship, oral m! and f! receiving, anal fingering and sex (m!receiving), Bisexual!Reiner, Bisexual!Jean, messy sex, reijean, fluff at the end.

minors dni!!

word count: 7,977

There was no way to tell what time of day it was when you woke up, clouds blocking the sun from shining through the windows. Groggily you tried to gain your bearings, blinking rapidly and feeling around the bed. It all slowly started to come back to you, the night before and the promise of a discussion of how to move forward. The ache between your legs was a dead giveaway of how thoroughly you’d been fucked, groaning when stood after sliding off the bed. A chill ran down your spin, hugging your arms around you and appreciating the overly large sweatshirt you wore.

Neither Jean or Reiner were in bed when you woke up, needing to find them and some food. Trailing out of the bedroom into the kitchen, fresh coffee hit your nostrils and helped wake you up further. Your feet shuffled on the vinyl wood floors, walking extremely slow to keep the aching pain from worsening.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” Jean quipped from the barstool he sat in, a shit eating grin on his face as he glanced up from his phone, slouched and shirtless making you wonder how he wasn’t freezing his ass off. All you did was groan back as a response, ignoring him and still making a beeline for the coffee. You bumped into Reiner, who also greeted you and you gave him the same response.

Now that you had poured your coffee and taken a few tentative sips, you sat in the barstool next to Jean. The sizzle of eggs turned louder from where Reiner stood in front of the stove, the need for food turning impossible to ignore, hoping those weren’t just for him.

“Hungry?” He asked, turning around with the pan of scrambled eggs held out in front of him.

“Yea.” Simply responding, taking another sip of your coffee. Reiner graciously plated some for you and Jean and also himself, setting the plates down in front of you and leaning back into the counter to eat his breakfast. It was quiet as everyone ate, giving you time to wake up a bit more and hit them with what you briefly discussed the night before. If they were serious about having some kind of agreement, you wanted to work out the details. At the moment, you didn’t want to take things too far into a possible relationship, still wanting some of your freedoms.

“So how is this going to work? Do you two have rules? Things you don’t want the other to do or?” Blurting out with a small clap of your hands, perkiness returning slowly in your demeanor.

“Jesus christ it's 8:30 am.” Jean mutters through the bite of eggs he took, chewing the forkful and swallowing, motioning to Reiner to take it from here.

“Okay well first, we want to make sure you want to be apart-”

“Yes.”

Reiner sighed at your interruption, brushing it off and tossing the now empty plate in the trash, reaching for his own cup of coffee, “There aren’t “rules” per-se for what we have going on, just mutual respect and understanding. So obviously we let the other know if we were hooking up with someone else, and if it ever happened, to let one another know if we were trying to pursue a relationship with someone.”

Nodding along and stringing together some questions of your own, you pondered the benefits of this little agreement. It was clear Jean and Reiner liked you beyond as a friend per their confession last night, but you also didn’t want to get their hopes up in being in a relationship with you. Plus you’d never been in a polyamorous relationship and wasn’t even sure if you’d like that sort of thing. That was at least another upside to joining in on whatever they had going on, give you a small taste.

“Okay that’s understandable. I know you said you both have a crush on me and I’m flattered but I don’t want to give you the impression by coming into this agreement or situationship that you guys are in an actual relationship with me, I’m not ready for something like that.”

Both of them turned to look at each other, shrugging nonchalantly. “That’s fine, like I said last night, we're not dating or exclusive.” Jean responded.

Seeing it didn’t affect much on their stance, you felt more at ease in going into this. There was only the lingering fear of one of them getting jealous and the entire friendship going down the drain, but you weren’t going to let that fear guide what you wanted.

“Okay then I guess consider me part of your agreement.” Saying with a shrug, not sure what else was left to be said. The only other thing on your mind now was studying, seeing how you were so rudely pulled away from it last night. Your last two finals were on Tuesday of this upcoming week and already felt like you lost so much time, not that you didn’t enjoy your time spent with Reiner and Jean, you were just stressed.

“I’m going to study.” Announcing as you got down from the barstool, taking your coffee and heading to your room. Both guys gave you nonverbal responses as you shuffled down the hall to your room, smiling to yourself at them being them.

For Hours you stared at your laptop screen, taking practice quizzes for different units and rereading sections of your notes for what felt like the thousandth time. Reiner always said you never gave yourself enough credit for how smart you are and probably didn’t need to study as much as you did. But you weren’t taking any chances, so much riding on your finals score and not needing anything to set you back. You could tell you were burning out of your focus when you started to think about how things would be with Reiner and Jean, wondering how they went about it before they told you and what they’d be comfortable with. Would they care if you randomly kissed their cheek or in general? I mean sure that’s what couples did but you’ve kissed plenty of guys and couldn’t even tell you all their names. Did they care if one day you wanted to just fuck one of them and not the other? Did it have to be both of them?

Questions, questions, questions you should’ve asked this morning but deciding against it when you felt it wasn’t important, clearly proving yourself wrong. Putting on some decent clothes, realizing you were still just in the sweatshirt and panties from this morning, you took a moment to freshen up as well. Hopefully they were both still home and you could get some quick answers.

Entering the living room to Jean lying across the couch scrolling on his phone with one of his legs slung over the back of the couch, Reiner sitting on the other end, feet of the coffee table and watching the football game on T.V. Both of them looked up when you came around the couch to sit between them, Reiner muting the T.V and Jean laying his phone down.

“I forgot to ask earlier but are you guys okay with affection? Like around here, not in public or anything.” Hating how nervous you sounded, partially regretting asking them in the first place when you realized it kinda sounded dumb.

“I don’t mind,” Jean answered first, looking at Reiner who had the same response as well. Giving a nod and picking at your nails, you inhaled deeply.

“So when we want to…fuck, does it have to be all three of us everytime?”

They both got quieter than you wanted them to, talking to each other through looks while thinking it over individually themselves. Obviously they hadn’t been faced with that before, given it was just them two before so you were hoping this wouldn’t cause an issue.

“I guess not, if it does happen maybe put a sock on the door? Or mentioned it after the fact. Jean?” Reiner said, looking to the other man to see if he thought the same or felt uncomfortable with it.

“I don’t see the issue, unless it starts to come between us. And if it does, we’ll cross that road when it happens.” Nudging your thigh with his leg that was bent at the knee on the couch, giving a little reassurance seeing the nervousness written across your face. “I don’t see it happening, so don’t let it get in your head alright?”

“Okay.” Muttering out with a small smile, rising from the couch to grab a snack before going back to studying now that your burning questions have been answered. You knew deep down there wouldn’t be anything to worry about, seemingly excited to get to have you at the same time last night.

Chills ran up your spine at the memories, biting your bottom lip to keep the breathy moan in as you felt the phantom hands cascading over your body. God fucking dammit you needed finals to be over so you could have all the fun you wanted with the agreement. Just a couple more days.

~~~~

Praise the universe!! You were finally done with the semester, exiting out of your last class with childlike joy. All that studying and endless all-nighters paid off, making fucking above nineties on both of your tests. It was so much more satisfying getting that high of a grade when you were only shooting for passing. A celebration was in order and you had the perfect idea on what you wanted to do.

After a quick drive to the shared condo, you burst through the front door victoriously, shouting you passed those god damn tests and was free to start enjoying winter break like everyone else. Reiner and Jean took all their finals a week before you did, and they weren’t going to say it, but they were waiting for you to be done so all three of you could whatever the fuck you wanted. God you were so happy, finally free of the stress of academics for a short while.

“So what do you want to do? Get wasted?” Jean asked, moving out from behind the kitchen counter, popping the last cracker into his mouth from his palm.

“No, better. Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in Reiner’s bedroom, or yours doesn’t matter!” Shouting as you ran down the hall, giving them no time to respond or question just what exactly you had in mind. After that night you asked them to hold off on anything sexual, just until finals were over. They didn’t have a problem with it and only bothered you when they felt like being annoying. Even though it’d only been a couple of days, you were glad nothing had changed in the dynamic the three of you shared, it being something you cherished more than they probably knew.

Digging through your dresser for that lingerie you bought after the guy you’d been crushing on asked you out to dinner, which ended up being a complete waste, not even finishing dinner before you realized he was just unbearable to be around. That was the last time you ever spent money too please a guy, seeing no point as most of your hook-ups were one time things. But now, oh you were itching to flaunt your body in this risque lingerie for Reiner and Jean, accepting the fact it may be torn off of you.

A black lace full body lingerie hugged your curves in the way you wanted it too, accentuating your breasts and leaving little to the imagination. You felt good in this, confident and sure of what you wanted. To keep it a surprise, you grabbed one of your sweatshirts that was big enough to come down to your mid-thigh, you giggled jogging down the hallway, passed the living room to the other hallway where Jean and Reiner’s rooms were. Reiner’s door was closed and Jean’s was slightly open, deciding to try there first.

They were laid back on the bed, scrolling through their phones, not suspecting a thing for what you had planned. Jean looked up first as you entered, closing the door and dimming the lights in his room, a feature so perfect for a plan like yours. Reiner’s attention was gained when you climbed onto the bed between them, forcing a spot for you between their bulking bodies.

“So…? What are we doing, taking a nap before we go to the bar?” Jean inquired, a hint of annoyance in his tone at the lack of clarification for what both of them were doing here.

“No, maybe later but not right now.” Sitting up and crossing your legs. “I haven’t gotten a chance to learn what you like.” Pausing further for dramatic effect, running a finger up Reiner’s thigh and placing the other high on Jean’s inner thigh. “What you like in bed that is.”

Jean’s leg twitches under your hand, internally laughing at the effect you already had on both of them. Reiner sat up, gripping your wrist and letting a smile curl into his lips, moving to be in front of you rather than beside you.

He started by kissing the outer shell of your ear, releasing a breath that unexpectedly had you bending to his effect. Jean caught on, running a hand along your outer thigh and teasing you by venturing to your inner thigh, a lot closer than you had been when you did it to him.

“Then find out, we’d be more than happy to tell you but I doubt that would be any fun.” Running his scruffy cheek against yours, Reiner slides his hand to the back of your neck and places a wet kiss to your jawline. Dammit they were quick, already wanting to just lie back and let them have your way with you again, but you wanted to tease now so there was no room to falter.

Scooting away from both of their lingering touches, standing on your knees, you lift the hem of your sweatshirt, slowly revealing the lace that decorated your body, tossing it to the floor and sitting back on your hunches. They both gaped, stared shamelessly at the sultry movements of your hands running up your torso to cup your tits.

“I’m going to rip that thing off of you.” Jean rasped, palming the forming tent in his shorts and letting out a sigh.

“Would you buy me a new one?” Circling your nipples with your index fingers through the lace, the heat sinks into your stomach at a fast pace, already beginning to grow wet between your legs.

“Yeah, might not last long, but I will.” Confidently responding, now rubbing the tent to ease the ache in his dick, Jean looked to Reiner with another one of their looks. Crawling towards them, you wordlessly instruct them to take off their shirts and sweatshirts, sighing at your new favorite sight of their toned bare chests.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in Reiner’s head suddenly, wagging a finger for you to ‘c’mere’ and whisper something in your ear. He suggested both of you turn your attention to Jean, implying you both tease and play with him, promising at some point you and him could do the same back. The idea was so sweet to pass up on, agreeing with a silent nod as to not give away anything to Jean. He looked skeptical when you faced him again, trying to figure out what just happened.

Swinging your legs over his body, grasping the sides of his face, you met him in a deep kiss. His arms wrapped around your mid section, urging you to sit down on his lap all the way and alleviate his erection. Obliging, you moaned into his mouth as your barely clothed cunt grinded down on his dick through his athletic shorts. Reiner was off grabbing what he needed, briefly stepping out of the room into his, returning almost silently if it weren’t for the closing of the bedroom door behind him. He set something down on the nightstand on the side you and Jean were making out, glancing to see a bottle of lube. Jean was too busy devouring your mouth and pawing at your ass to notice, impatiently pulling and snapping the lace against your body.

Hands from behind pulled you off, sitting firm on Jean’s lap and giving one slow grind with your hips as you strained to meet Reiner holding your face to him for a kiss. Though intense and hungry, his lips moved softly with yours, moving one hand to slip the thin strap of your lingerie off your shoulder until your tit fell free. His large rough hand cupped and massaged it, pulling whiny moans from your lips as he now bit and sucked the side of your neck. Jean looked like he was in a trance, watching Reiner manhandle you, but in an oddly gentle way. He was throbbing inside his shorts, the grinding of your hips not offering everything he craved.

Your head fell back when Reiner rolled and pinched your nipple between his fingers, chuckling into your neck and giving you one last kiss before releasing his hold on you. Jean sat up, keeping one arm around your waist and latching onto your nipple, furiously flicking and swirling his tongue.

“Jean-” Breathing out, running a hand through his hair and grinding down harder with your hips. He bit the nipple as a response, smiling when you yelped.

Reiner moved all the pillows from the bed as Jean busied himself with your chest, trying not to let his throbbing dick take over his actions just yet, wanting to ensure there was optimal room on the bed. Jean finally pulled away, gasping a breath and pulling the rest of your lingerie down to your waist moving you off his lap to take the rest of it off. Reiner seized this as his opportunity to smash Jean into a kiss, catching him so off guard you had to take the rest of your lingerie off yourself.

“What do you want? My dick down your throat while she sucks you off, or your face buried in that pussy while I’m down between your legs?” Reiner asked between the heated kisses, hearing Jean groan wantonly grasping the back of the blonde's hair. The question and the scene set your body aflame, watching Reiner effortlessly take control and Jean submitting to it like it was the only thing keeping him going.

“I want’re to ride my face, need to taste her.” Answering finally between gasps of breath, tugging on Reiner’s hair to pull him away from the kiss, watching Reiner smile with a pleased groan. His attention turns to you, sitting back on your elbows just observing just how fucking hot that was.

“Come sit on my face doll.” Gleaming at you with a smirk and grabbing one of the pillows tossed to the floor to elevate his head a bit. Without looking too excited, you shuffled over to Jean, swinging your legs over each side of his head, looking down at him. The poor man looked gone already, eyes glazed over in lust with a content expression. His hands came to settle in the junction of your hips, beginning to pull you down with the hunger to taste you, quench his sudden thirst and desire to suffocate in your folds. Behind you, Reiner was watching as he popped the lid to the lube open, transfixed on your slow descent and muttering curses once he saw Jean’s mouth make contact between your legs.

Jean delightfully hummed into your folds the second he could crane his head up to meet you, still urging you to sit all the way down on his face. Your breath carried a whine, soft and salacious as you felt a tongue flatten to swiped back and forth. All thoughts of concern for cutting off Jean's airway went out the window when his lips closed around your clit, sucking tentatively and keeping those hazy eyes on yours, making it next to impossible to not crumble under his wanting look. He looked so enthralled with how your head was tilted back just a bit, the silent moans leaving your tongue and the contortion of pleasure twisted in your face, having you sit on his face was for his pleasure just as much as it was yours. Hands roamed from your hips to below your ribs, caressing your soft skin, back down to your ass cheeks as he passionately made out with your pussy. Who would’ve thought sitting on a man’s face could be so intimate?

Reiner had to forcefully break away from watching before he came untouched and to begin working Jean open, per his response. With the cap to the lube finally open and ready for when he would need it, Reiner leaned over the foot of the bed, moving a long muscular leg over his shoulder and peppering soft kisses and quick nips to the flesh. He smirked when Jean’s shaky groan muffled into your pussy reached his ears, seeing you tense on top of him at the undoubtable vibrations. Before you were added into the equation, Reiner and Jean took turns deciding who would do who in the beginning but it slowly turned into Jean taking Reiner’s dick, more often than not, letting the blonde toss him around how he liked. Reiner enjoyed it, but he savored the times when Jean would wordlessly slam him into the wall or bend him over the bed and fuck him until he was out of his mind.

Swiping a flat tongue over the man’s heavy balls, Reiner groaned seeing his flushed and angry cock twitch against his abs, catching the way his hands dug into the flesh of your ass, urging you to ride his face. You were a mess, panting and twisting your hand into the ashy hair, grinding faster onto Jean’s tongue and watching his eyes roll back into his head. A thick finger circled the puckering hole between Jean’s legs as Reiner kissed up his dick flicking his tongue teasingly over the leaking slit.

“Fuck.” Jean gasped below you, mouth and chin shining with your arousal as he lifted you off his face. His bottom lip quivered when a now slick finger began pushing into his hole, the same teasing tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

“Turn around for me.” Rasping hoarsely, pleading almost with the request. You complied with a small nod, turning around till your ass was in his face and you were faced with the sight of Reiner affectionately lavishing Jean’s cock. He smiled when he saw the switch in positions, tested his luck by pushing his finger past the first knuckle into Jean, smiling wider at the debauched moan he let out. You knew Reiner was a tease but oh my god it was like borderline torture the way he calculated his movements and teased the man squeezing and pulling your ass cheeks apart. You could tell Jean needed the distraction of your pussy on his mouth with the immediate dive back into your folds, slipping his tongue into your entrance and inhaling deeply. It was expected of you to fall forward for the suddenness, grasping onto Jean’s thighs and whining with need. Reiner’s pumping single finger picked up a rhythm comfortable for Jean to ease his grip on your ass, assuming he relaxed further when Reiner knitted his brows together and moved a little faster.

“God you’re tight, ease up babe.” Reiner called out to Jean, giving you another devious smug look and leaning his head over to suck just the head of his cock. You were drowning in the furious movements of Jean’s tongue that you could barely make out what Reiner was doing in front of you. Reiner moaned, releasing his cock and dropping a glob of spit, using his free hand to spread it down his shaft. Now you were at attention, pushing yourself up and kitten licking the continuously leaking slit as Reiner pumped up and down.

“There ya go, suck his dick for me baby.” Reiner encouraged kissing down the side of the shaft, you focusing on sucking and swirling your tongue around the tip.

Jean could barely handle it, taking a breather and whining at the unexpected amount of attention he was receiving. You didn’t mind, you’d have his cock shoved inside you here soon enough to not be demanding, following Reiner’s lead and teasing the absolute fuck out of Jean. The man in front of you pushed down one of Jean’s legs to the mattress, easing a second slicked coated finger into the complicit hole, sighing at acceptance and how it sucked him in further.

As you made a mess on Jean’s cock and watched Reiner open him up at the same time, Jean was whining and muttering incoherently, completely abandoning your pussy and focusing on trying not to cum. Fingers pumped rapidly in and out of him, Reiner returning to sucking and kissing up and down the appendage with you. Your tongues met unexpectedly when you both reached the tip, Reiner occupying you in a kiss centimeters over Jean’s dick, sloppily making out and smearing saliva and precum on each other’s mouths.

“I’m going to cum if you two don’t stop making out on my dick, for fucks sake.” Jean growled, a little frustrated and losing the will to stave off his orgasm.

“You gonna ride’em?” Reiner asked, ignoring Jean and slipping in a third finger as an extra precaution to make sure he didn’t hurt the man when sinking into him.

“Mhm, wanna know if it's as good as he says it is.” Smirking and shuttering to Reiner’s deep chuckle, following him as he stood up from kneeling between Jean’s legs, pouring a generous amount of lube onto his cock, waiting for you to turn back around to sink down on Jean.

Once you were facing him again, you cupped a hand around his jaw and tipped his head back, guiding him inside of you. Reiner waited until you were fully seated to pull his fingers out and test the waters with his thick cockhead, Jean was prepped enough but he wasn’t a brute to just shove himself all the way in. The moment he pushed the tip of his dick past the tight ring of muscle, he hissed and dug crescents into Jean’s outer thighs. You were adjusting around the length of Jean, not as thick as Reiner but thick and long enough to need a moment until you started moving.

“Feel so good Jean.” Whispering into his lips and lazily kissing the side of his mouth as he tried to keep what composure he had left from the thick cock pushing its way inside of him. With ease, your hips rose up and down on his cock, dragging your walls along the faint ridges and veins. You were relaxed enough to keep Jean from losing his mind, holding the side of his face and gently kissing his lips while riding him, it seemed to work until Reiner pushed himself all the way in, hearing that throaty whine that made you clench around the man below you.

“Shit.” He cursed, inhaling sharply through his nose and bringing his hips back to where he almost pulled out all the way and slamming them back in.

“Fuck Reiner-” Jean mumbled between your lips, gripping you tightly around the waist and speeding up your languid bouncing hips to move faster. You moaned, licking into Jean’s mouth and releasing his face to sit upright to rock your hips in time with Reiner’s behind you. His large hands slipped under your arms pulling you back into his chest, cupping your tits and resting his chin over your shoulder, both of you now looking down at Jean. He was ruined, digging the heel of his palms into his eyes and shaking with each breath, getting fucked simultaneously.

“Enjoying yourself?” Reiner asked, breath kissing the outer shell of your ear, raising the hair on your neck. You pressed your knees to Jean’s hips, pushed your hips forward so the dick inside you could be seen bulging in your lower stomach. You nodded as a response to Reiner, tipping your head back so he could see your face and the doe eyed look you were giving him, taking one of his hands from your breast and guiding it down to where the bulge in your stomach was. He hissed, craned his head further over your shoulder to stare at it, giving Jean a good sharp thrust to gain his attention.

“Look how deep you are baby,” Calling out to Jean, seeing his hands move away from his eyes and watching as a new wave of lust washed over him. He sat up on his elbows, brushing over where Reiner’s hand was and moaning softly. You squirmed on his dick, mewling to try and get stimulation while the two of them admired the bulging dick, wondering what it was that made it so hot for the two of them.

With renewed vigor, Jean gripped one of your hips and moved you up and down on his cock, concentration screwed into his guise feeling Reiner resume his pace as well. You whined, meeting Jean’s movements and continuously fucking yourself on him. Reiner pushed you forward so he wouldn’t be smacking his chest into your back too much as he fucked Jean, holding the long legs apart and watching his dick disappear with each thrust, enamoured with how greedy Jean’s hole was. Your hands tangled into the long ashy locks, moaning directly into Jean’s ear as he did the same. You were both gone, energy close to depleting altogether but knowing Reiner was nowhere close to being finished with his ungodly stamina.

“You feel so fucking good, wanna cum deep inside you princess.” He groaned, smacking your ass cheek sharply, kneading those lith fingers into the flesh and biting the lobe of your ear. You nodded furiously to that, clenching around him and slamming onto him harder and deeper.

Reiner’s thrust faltered suddenly, violently gripping Jean’s thigh and throwing his head back, sputtering out a groan. Jean hissed, a pathetic whimper leaving his lips as one of his legs hooked around Reiner’s waist. You were so lost in how deep Jean’s dick was fucking into you that you couldn’t tell Reiner had just finished, quicker than you were expecting and possibly on purpose.

Meeting the lips below you in a sloppy kiss, your body turned limp, unable to keep up with your desire to cum and to make Jean cum as well. Reiner must’ve caught on, hoisting you away from Jean’s chest and back into his own, one arm wrapped around your chest as his other hand ventured down to play with your clit. Now that Jean had more freedom to move as he pleased, he gripped your hips to hold you steady, fully fucking up into you, determined to watch his cum leak out of your pussy and down his cock.

Barely able to hold on, you silently whined, resting your head on Reiner’s shoulder as he swirled your neglected clit with his finger, laughing devilishly and kissing the side of your neck. Jean grunted below, catching the smug curl of his lips and the look exchanged with Reiner.

“Cum for us baby, wanna see you milk this pretty cock inside you.” Jean growled, smugness leaving his face suddenly as he drew closer and closer to his long awaited release. Reiner sucks in a large breath, keeping you pressed to him and increasing the speed of his fingers. You were so close, their combined efforts once again ruining your ability to do it yourself or for anyone else to.

With a clench and a flutter of your walls, you came with a pitiful moan, somehow falling even more limp into Reiner’s hands, wincing at the final sharp thrust from Jean. Warmth filled quickly inside of you, ropes of cum painting your walls so much it indeed started to leak out and down the spent cock still inside you. Both of them sighed, releasing their hold and giving you a second to regain some energy before helping you off. Reiner was the only one not as fucked out as you and Jean, leaving the aftermath of a good fuck all to him.

He lifted you off Jean, kissing your cheek and gently laying you back onto the bed next to the other. Jean’s chest was heaving, shining in sweat giving him an ethereal glow in the lowlights of his room. He brought his arm to wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. You curled into him, ignoring the sweat sticking to your body and his and basking in the post-coital bliss between the two of you. Reiner could be heard in the bathroom, cleaning himself off and coming back to do the same for you and Jean.

Despite liking the idea of going out and celebrating for passing your last final, all three of you were sprawled across Jean’s bed, half naked and sound asleep. Thankfully Reiner had managed to clean you and Jean off before plopping down himself, making it less gross when you finally woke up. Of course it was dark, probably closer to eight or nine from what you could recall the time being when you waltz in here in your scandalous lingerie. Looking over to spot either Jean or Reiner, you smiled seeing them pressed together, chest to chest with their arms tangled between their bodies. A swelling of affection in your chest occurred seeing how comfortable they looked and abandoning all thoughts of leaving the room to squeeze between them.

“The fuck are you doing?” Jean mumbled in his sleep, pinching his brows but making room for you nonetheless. Reiner huffed, groaning disapprovingly as you “carefully” pushed their bodies apart to make yourself a spot. They both huffed, still asleep when you finally settled between them, giggling to yourself and pulling the comforter over everyone. There was a time, when all of you were much younger and puberty hadn’t ruined your perception of them, did the three of you sleep altogether like this, pressed together so tight it was a wonder any of you could breath. Experiencing this again under different circumstances did you feel warm and fuzzy, safe between both of their arms.

~~~

All you heard was distorted mumbling when you woke again, voices hushed but loud enough to know a conversation was taking place between you. Everything in your body ached, creaked with one slight movement, similar to how you had been the first time. Vision blurry and refusing to focus, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, jolting to the warm palm on the center of your back.

“Oh good you’re up.” Jean began, removing his hand from your back and reaching for his phone on the bedside table. “There’s this sushi place that opened up about ten minutes from here and I think we should go try it later.”

“Isn’t it like three or four in the morning? And why would I want sushi for breakfast?” Groaning as you reached for the comforter to pull to your chest, very much still naked and cold.

“More like nine in the morning, and we could go for dinner and celebrate finishing the semester.”

The words were taking their time to process in your groggy brain, not realizing you’d slept till the next day. When they did process, you clutched the comforter tight to your chest and whirled around to look at Jean.

“Jesus it's the next day?!” Exclaiming and hearing Reiner laughed on the other side of you, along with Jean.

“Yeah? I mean we’ve only been up for an hour so you didn’t miss much.”

Not that there was a lot you had to do or anything you missed, but you hated being so tired and out of the loop that time was distorted, it messed with your internal schedule to be productive and get things done around the place. Nothing much could be done now but it was still slightly irritating that it had happened.

“We can go for lunch, I had plans to meet with Pieck and maybe Annie later.” Climbing over Jean and rolling your eyes at the slap to your bare ass and something like a growl from him. Fucking annoying ass. “But I’m going to take a shower first.”

“Oh yeah, you need it, after the mess we made.” Reiner snickered, looking at Jean, who of course was laughing right along with the blonde. They were bad enough before when all three of you were strictly friends, and it didn’t come as a surprise to see them finding new ways to make your eyes roll back into your head.

Snatching a zip-up jacket from the hook on the wall in Jean’s room, you left them alone to go get cleaned up and ready to go out. Now that they were no longer annoying you were able to appreciate the gesture from them. It was kind of odd how things were exactly the same between all three of you but completely different at the same time, making you rethink your choice in not pursuing a form of romantic relationship outside of sex with them. Both of them dated a few girls here and there, nothing serious but you got to see how they treated someone they dated and in a way yearned for it. You, in all honesty, wanted to be on the receiving end of the romantic affection, and it didn’t worry you or set doubts inside you about wanting one or the other, because you wanted both. But something about the idea of dating both of them at the same time made you nervous and reluctant still. What would your friends say? People around school? Three people dating each other all at once, wasn’t common and you hated the possible judgment from others got to you.

Taking a quick shower and dressing accordingly for the chilly weather, you met Jean and Reiner out in the living room by the front door. Reiner offered to drive, piling into his truck and snatching the aux cord before Jean could from the back seat.

“Please play something other than your girly pop playlist.” He groaned from the passenger seat.

“I like her playlist, and added a few songs to my own to listen to when I work out.” Reiner defended you with honor, making you giggle while scrolling through your phone to find a song you knew would annoy the protester the most.

“Of course you would, you zesty ass fucker.”

Reiner abruptly slammed on the brakes, sending Jean lurching forward to the dash, only stopped by the seatbelt across his body.

“I’m not the only ‘zesty ass fucker’ here, last i checked you were moaning my name and squirming on the bed last night.”

Jean scoffed, scowled at Reiner who resumed peacefully driving to the destination with a smug smile on his face. You were laughing quietly at the two of them from the back seat, choosing to keep your laughs to yourself, lest you face the annoyed wrath of Jean Kirschtein. Surprisingly, Jean didn’t have any sort of rebuttal to send back to the blonde, but the tips of his ears were red and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was pouting.

Arriving at the sushi place, you walked in between the two of them, annoyingly dwarfed by their height and size. You weren’t “tiny”, like some girls around campus love to say for some reason, but you definitely weren’t above six feet tall and weighed two hundred pounds. Jean opened the door for you, Reiner following in behind and approaching the lady at the host stand. Said sushi place had a conveyor belt that rotated various sushi’s and you paid based on how many plates you ate. No wonder the two of them suggested this place, knowing they would be able to eat the entire restaurant if they wanted too, racking up the final bill.

Seated in a booth across from both of them, wondering why they wanted to squeeze into together when it would’ve been easier for one of them to sit with you. Oh whatever, they’ve always been weird like that. Another restaurant worker stopped by the table to explain how the conveyor belt works and how to grab the plates of sushi, also mentioned there were separate items that weren’t sushi that you could order as well.

Reiner orders a miso soup and Jean orders pot sticker dumplings, the worker writing it down and telling both of them to watch the belt above where the sushi was for their order as it would come down there.

“This is actually a lot cooler than I was expecting.” Jean spoke once the worker left, beginning to eye some of the sushi rotating at a moderate speed around the restaurant on the belt. The restaurant was cool and unique, better than a ‘normal’ sushi restaurant.

“Oh look, you can win a prize for eating twenty plates.” Reiner pointed out with a new look of determination of a presented goal.

“Oh my god.” Muttering under your breath watching the two of them plot and scheme just how many plates they were going to do no matter that the requirement for a prize was. If this was their plan, they were definitely paying the undoubtable hefty tab, but you wouldn’t spoil that for them, seeing as they didn’t see the price of each plate.

Once their two appetizers arrived on the conveyor belt above the sushi one, Jean started grabbing plates left and right, sliding them to you and Reiner. There were so many on the table now, giving you a wide variety of options to try. You started moving the ones you were eating to keep them from grabbing off of yours, they were animals when it came to food, some things never changing no matter how much time had passed.

“Oh FUCK! That’s hot, oh my fucking god.” Jean exclaimed, snatching the complimentary water and chugging it.

“No way you ate that much wasabi on that piece of sushi, dumbass.” Reiner laughed, nudging his shoulder and rolling his eyes in your direction.

“I swear he never learns.” Snickering through a bite of sushi and watching the man sitting across from you gasping for air and snarling at Reiner openly laughing. Those two were always pushing each other’s buttons when they weren’t pushing yours, wondering how the testosterone didn’t knock out a passerby. Years ago, Conny, one of Jean’s closest friends after you and Reiner convinced him to eat a teaspoon of wasabi, easily convinced the brunette it was a mint paste and wouldn’t taste bad. Jean nearly killed Conny that night while everyone was over at his house, having a burnt and numb tongue for a week senior year of high school.

“My tolerance has grown, but they put more than I thought.” Banging a fist on his chest, coughing in between each word. Both you and Reiner shared a look letting out a long sarcastic “ahh” and nodding your heads. Jean clicked his tongue and told you both to fuck off.

The counter on the screen where you sat at the booth was at thirty five plates now, the two guys across from you slowing down, leaving you, who wasn’t quite full to eat the last remaining five. When you slid the last plate into the little slot, they annoyingly clapped for you, making a small scene and flooding you with mild embarrassment. Reiner reached over Jean to press on the touch screen to get the two prizes since forty plates were eaten, which was kind of ridiculous the more you thought about it. They each took one of the two prizes and handed them to you.

“Awe for meeee? How sweeeet” Raising your pitch to sound like a child and elongating your words, rapidly fluttering your lashes. They both turned red, glancing at each other and smiling. Seeing them nod wordlessly sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies, which was such an unfamiliar feeling when it came to them. You still weren’t sure how you felt about dating the both of them if that’s what they wanted, but something inside you was screaming at you to give it a try, despite your inner reluctance reasoning. Reiner and Jean were your best friends and more than that now, but a romantic relationship sounded daunting with them even though you wanted in deep, deep down. It’d be better to take things slow, for the sake of your friendship and sanity.

The prizes were little rubber squish animals, little desk buddies you liked to call them, tucking them back in the plastic ball they came in and stuffing them into your jacket pocket.

“So what are you doing with Pieck later?” Reiner asked, looking up from texting on his phone.

“Just hanging out, Annie said she also wanted to hang out with me since finals were over, so we’ll all probably be at Pieck’s place.”

Jean hummed and Reiner nodded, slouched in their seats and waiting for the check. You briefly smiled thinking about what their reactions might be, dramatic forsure. A restaurant worker handed Reiner the check and you swore his eyes almost popped out of their sockets, slowly bringing it closer to Jean so he could have a look as well. His jaw dropped and a hand clamped over his mouth.

“How much is it?” Asking with your wallet out to pay a portion of the bill as you did eat as well, maybe not as much, but you weren’t expecting them to pay the entirety.

“Don’t worry about it.” Reiner grunted, digging his wallet out of his back jeans pocket, letting out a long breath and placing his card down. Jean grumbled and muttered under his breath as he passed Reiner his card as well.

Just as you were about to place yours down as well, Jean swatted your hand away. You scoffed, trying again, only for Reiner to take it and hold onto it instead of putting it down. A worker came by to grab the cards asking how they would like to split it, Reiner telling him down the middle.

“I could’ve paid.” Crossing your arms over your chest and acting like Jean, pouting with knitted brows.

“Yea but this is on us, for passing your finals.”

Your eyes rolled at the response Jean gave you, somehow still finding a way to look out for you even when you insisted against it. Not that you didn’t appreciate the gesture, but it had to have been expensive and you hated it being all on them. When they received their cards, they each signed and tipped, getting the hell out of there afraid that just being in here any long would drain their bank accounts. Back in the truck, Jean beat you to the aux, playing something that wasn’t normally what he would play just to annoy you. You couldn’t be mad, even if you wanted to, doing the same thing to him on the way here.

Back home, stuffed from all the sushi, you plopped down on the couch, not having to leave for Pieck’s until after she got off of work, which was a couple hours from now. Expectedly, they joined you on the couch, sandwiching you in on either side, Jean slouching in the couch and then eventually laying his head on your lap with a blanket thrown over. Reiner draped his arm across your shoulders and pulled you closer just a tad to not disturb Jean who had drifted off to sleep. You were suddenly so tired, listening to Jean’s soft snores and steady breathing of Reiner, your heart racing at the fact you felt so at home like this? As if the three of you hadn’t fallen asleep on each other on a couch before, but you swore you felt something you didn’t want to name for the sake of taking things slow. Maybe, if everything played in your favor you could be confident to say this new feeling, but who knows where this will go.

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