bakerstreet | the friends with benefits meme

ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓｗｉｔｈｂｅｎｅｆｉｔｓ

sex friends. fuck buddies. friends with benefits. no matter what you call it, it's the perfect arrangement: you get to enjoy awesome sex and an awesome friendship, without any of the complications that come from being romantically involved. there's no drama, no threat of heartbreak, and no pressure to commit — just good friends having good sex.

unless one of you catches feelings, of course. but you wouldn't do that, would you?

Prompts

1. casual - you have the type of relationship where you grab a snack, meet up for sex, and maybe play a few video games. what's not to love?

2. best friends - you already share everything else together. sex is just a natural extension of your intimacy as best friends.

3. experimenting - bro, we are teens. bro, we are kissing now. no, don't stop. bro...

4. practice - this is all just practice for when you find a "real" relationship, but that doesn't mean it can't be fun.

5. rebound - the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

6. stress relief - you're working a high-stress job together and needed some way to unwind.

7. rivals - you're not really friends outside the bedroom, more like friendly rivals. and the competition extends to sex.

7. incompatible - you've tried to date before and it just didn't work out. but that's no reason to give up on the awesome sex you were having, or your equally awesome friendship.

8. unrequited - you want to be more, but they only see you as a fuck buddy. at least sex is better than nothing.

9. friends (with benefits) to lovers - you both want something more. but how do you ask out the person you're already sleeping with?

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[ pre-timeskip (or au) ]

Edited 2020-11-28 13:55 (UTC)

[ The question of the century: what do you do when you start something, knowing that it has an expiration date?

It'd been a bad idea to begin with. Call it a moment of vulnerability, call it a slipup, call it a rare instance of selfishness, whatever: three bottles of wine and however many beers on one particularly rowdy night, and Sanji'd woken up next to a still-snoring Zoro, clothes off and legs tangled in a too-small bed.

The rest is... well, it's history. Ongoing history. The sort of history that keeps repeating itself, despite everything in Sanji telling himself that none of this makes any logical sense whatsoever; that friends with benefits are supposed to, well. You know. Benefit from this.

It just starts to feel stupid, after a while. Provoking Zoro. Seeing the guy's breaking point, and feeling the strength of those callused palms against his skin. At first, sex'd been an extension of fighting― the illogical next step after beating each other black and blue― but now?

Sanji sits up, his body quickly cooling after another messy session post-scrabble. He doesn't quite look at Zoro as he reaches across Zoro's bulk for his lighter, but lingers just a bit too long over the slope of the other man's shoulders.

An exhale, and Sanji rests his shoulders against the wall. ] ―Tch, you pulled off the buttons on my new shirt. [ As if that's the problem here, and not the fact that he thinks he's the only one catching feelings (which Zoro can never know about, because that's Sanji's brand). ]

[ Zoro knows better. He really does. He may be entirely directionless, the type to get lost in a straight line, but even he can see where this will go. And it's nowhere good, not for him.

An excess of alcohol, adrenaline. Arousal. The first time could've been explained away, easily, if they'd only left it at that. But time and time again he ends up wrestling into bed (into tub, onto floor, onto wall, counter, couch, you name it) with the cook - and why, when there's little to no point?

Well. He does know that, too, but he's barely willing to explain it to himself. And certainly not Sanji.

Sanji, whose hook he just keeps hanging on, even if it's only until the man sees a prettier fish, one he really wants. He'll be thrown back out to sea, then, permanently pierced through, and yet he continues to take the bait. And the more he finds himself held between those strong legs, tucked into the crook of Sanji's neck and breathing him in, the more he wants to be there. Stay there.

The more he knows he's fucked. ]

Mm, good. [ He sighs through a nice, big stretch, body briefly satiated, even if the rest of him is a different story. ] That gross pattern mixed with the swirl of your eyebrow, it'd give people motion sickness.

[ You weren't expecting an apology or anything, right? ]

Anyway, I don't remember you trying to stop me.