#it’s like a puzzle trying to figure out how to draw him

[wybienova]

prismo!

[fastandcarlos]

Baby Sibling : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: whilst all his friends are having siblings, your son is keen for the two of you to start thinking about when he can have one too

Puzzled eyes looked to Max as your son refused to hold your hands as the two of you picked him up from school. It was routine for you both whenever Max was home, it had been since your son started school a little over a year ago, something you had done every single day together. 

Max shrugged back at you as his empty hand felt lost. His eyes glanced at your son who was a couple of steps ahead of you, scuffing his feet along the path. Neither of you quite knew what to say, it was unlike anything that you had ever seen from your son before.  

As you arrived home, your son immediately took himself into the living room where his toy box was. Max followed you into the kitchen as you took his bag to unpack and check for any letters or drawings. A huff came from Max as he took a seat, his head resting in his hands as he tried to piece together the pieces to figure out what was going on. 

“I don’t understand,” you sighed as you took a seat opposite Max. “His teacher didn’t say anything to make me think that something happened at school today.” 

“He was smiling until he saw us,” Max informed you. 

Your heart broke as you listened to Max, only to be interrupted by the sound of footsteps entering the room. Your son trudged in silently, picking up his water bottle that was on the side, turning his back to you both and drinking from it. 

“Evan, do you want to play a game?” Max offered, choosing one of his favourite things to do whenever his dad was home. “What about that board game you bought the other day?” 

Your son’s head shook as he took the bottle and headed back into the room. You both were sat in shock, mouths wide in disbelief at how distant Evan had suddenly become. 

“He’s quite sensitive, maybe he just needs a little bit of time,” you suggested, trying your best to reassure the two of you. 

“But we’re his parents, he should talk to us about anything,” Max despairingly sighed. 

Attempts were made by the two of you for most of the night but Evan gave you nothing. Whenever you struck up conversation you were met by short, snappy answers, or just the shake or nod of his head. 

As night arrived, Max was determined to unpick what was troubling your son, sitting down at the end of his bed after you’d tucked him in. You stayed in the room with them both, leaning against the doorframe and giving them both some space. There was a pause in the room once Max sat down, trying his best to figure out the right thing to say so that he didn’t worry Evan more. It took a moment, but eventually he cleared his throat. 

“Evan, you know if something, or someone, is upsetting you, mummy and I are here to help you, right?” Max asked him, keeping his eyes firmly on him. “We’re always here to help you, no matter what the problem is.” 

Evan nodded as Max spoke, shuffling slightly closer towards him. “I’m the only one at school who doesn’t have a brother or sister and people keep leaving me out of their conversations.” 

Max’s eyes flickered across to you to make sure that you were listening. “You’re feeling a little left out buddy? Are you saying that you want to have a little brother or sister?” 

Evan continued to nod back at Max, “I think it would be fun to have one.” 

A sigh of relief came from you, glad that it wasn’t anything worse that was troubling your son. It still upset you to know that he was being left out at school, but at least it was something that could be fixed. Most likely. 

“There’s a lot of reasons why people do, or don’t, have little brothers and sisters,” Max tried his best to explain to Evan. “It’s not always an easy thing for families to do.” 

“Is it tricky for you and mummy?” Evan enquired. 

Having another child was a subject that you and Max had barely even thought about. You were so busy, and Max’s schedule was insane, but with Evan nearing six, you didn’t want the gap between your children to be too big. 

“A little bit,” Max weakly smiled, not wanting to lie to your son. “Daddy works away a lot, don’t I? And mummy does a lot of caring for you, but hopefully one day it won’t be quite so difficult for us to potentially have a baby sibling for you buddy.” 

You weren’t entirely sure if Evan understood what Max was saying to him, but he nodded anyway. Max stood up and walked over to your son, pressing a relieved kiss to the top of his head as he began to say goodnight. 

“Can I do anything to help make it happen daddy?” Evan whimpered as Max stepped away from him, his hopeful eyes looking between you both. “If it’s tricky, then maybe I can help you and mummy.” 

“You just need to keep being awesome,” Max cheerfully told him, “that’s the only thing that me and mummy ever want from you, you’re already the best.” 

You went in to say goodnight to your son too before following Max out of the room. There was silence between you as you headed into your bedroom, both perching on your respective sides of the bed, giving yourselves a moment to debrief and take in the conversation that you’d just had. 

“Why do I feel guilty?” Max asked, breaking the silence. “It’s not up to anyone else but us when we have another child, but I hate that it’s leaving him feeling left out at school.” 

“Maybe it’s the shove that we need to do something about it,” you responded. 

Max’s body jumped, quickly turning to look at you. His smile was wide as he listened to you. “Are you saying you want to have another baby? I never thought you were keen on another with how much I’m away right now.” 

“I mean it would be tough,” you admitted, “but we’re not getting any younger, and I don’t want Evan being a single child forever. I think we’d be able to do it, it would be tough, but we’d smash it don’t you think?” 

“Absolutely, we’ve always been a great team,” Max reminded you, “and I can make sure that I’m home more often to help out too.” 

“Have we just agreed to a second baby right now?” 

“I think we might’ve done,” Max laughed, laying himself down and pulling you down with him. “Promise me that you’re not just saying this to please me, or to please Evan either.” 

“I promise, as long as you do as well.” 

Max nodded eagerly, leaning across and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your body turned inwards so that you were resting in Max’s side, feeling his arm wrap around you to keep you nice and close, exactly where he wanted you. 

“Do you think there’s any harm in getting a bit of practice in now? We might need it,” Max whispered. 

“I’d say there’s no time like the present.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Jisung

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You had always admired Han's loving spirit and his ability to find inspiration in the smallest things. He brought light into your life in ways you never thought possible. And he helped you see the world in a way most didn't. You loved that you had that in common with Han- an appreciation for things that breathed life into your creative works.

You had never been very good at drawing. Or writing. Or anything having to do with the fine arts. Rather your creativity came more in a problem solving way. But in order to connect with Jisung, you decided to take up sketching to connect with Han a little more, because you loved him.

But that just created a deep-rooted insecurity about your creative abilities. Surrounded by so many talented people - as you were around the kids -you often felt your own contributions paled in comparison, and it was a fear you kept to yourself.

One evening, Han was over at your place, working on some new lyrics while you attempted to write poetry. He was sprawled on the couch, notebook in hand, humming a melody under his breath. You sat at your desk, scribbling down words and then erasing them feeling increasingly frustrated with your lack of progress.

You had long given up drawing, and you thought it might be easier to write a poem, since it was words that described your feelings. You could easily write a poem about something you knew well right? It couldn't be that hard.

You scratched your head as you tried to think of rhymes.

"How's it going over there?" Han asked, glancing up from his notebook.

"Not great," you mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

Han chuckled, not noticing your tone. "I figured."

His casual comment felt like a sting, a reminder of your perceived inadequacies. You forced a smile and nodded, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling.

He got up and walked over to you, picking up your paper in his hands. He chuckled. "Poetry now huh?"

You felt your cheeks burn and tried to take it from him. "No-"

"No jagiya I want to read it." He said holding it above your head and reading it. "You make me laugh when I am sad, Your jokes are the best I've ever had. When you smile, my heart feels light, You make everything so bright." Han giggled again. "It's like one of those poems we had to write in elementary school."

That made your cheeks burn even more. "Jisung give it back-"

"Your hugs are warm, your eyes so kind, With you, I leave my worries behind. You're my sunshine, my best friend, With you, I hope the good times never end." He gives you a cute pouty face in a teasing manner. "Awww Y/N... it's such a cute little poem. It's like a little nursery rhyme."

"Jisung stop!" You called out again, feeling your eyes burn as you put your fists to your eyes, the embarrassment you had taking over.

"I know my poem's not that great, But loving you is my favorite fate. Thank you Jisung..." His smile fell and he swallowed. "Thank you...Jisung for...for being you. My love for you is always true." He looked up and seemed to realize what he was teasing you about and his lip trembled. "Y/N-"

"I want to be alone." You mumbled through your tears. Jisung wanted to reach out, but he knew he had hurt your feelings, but knowing you he also knew you needed space.

The next few days were a blur of self-doubt and creative blocks. You avoided drawing and writing, and found excuses to stay busy with other tasks. Han noticed your change in behavior and even if you guys had talked a couple hours after the incident, he still didn't think his apology was enough.

One afternoon, while you were both working on a puzzle together, Han brought up the subject again. "Hey, you know I'm really really sorry right?"

You nodded. "I know. I'm not mad anymore, Jisung."

Han frowned. "But you haven't been writing at all. Or drawing...I feel like it's my fault. No...I know it's my fault. I'm sorry I made fun of your poem- I loved it. I really did. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever written me..."

You felt a pang in your chest, wishing you could believe him. "Thanks, but sometimes it feels like I'm just not good enough."

Han looked taken aback. "What do you mean? You're incredibly talented."

You sighed, finally letting out a bit of your frustration. "It's just… I see how talented everyone else is, including you, and I can't help but feel like my work doesn't measure up."

Han's expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing in your own right, and comparing yourself to others isn't fair to you. I wouldn't ever want you to compare yourself to me. That's like comparing a doctor to an actor. Both are genius in their own right, but do you expect an actor to be able to perform surgery like a doctor? Or the doctor to recite the entire second act of Hamlet? You have your talents that I could never even begin to measure up to, Y/N. Its the same with everyone who walks this planet..."

His words were kind, but they didn't fully reach the core of your insecurity. You forced a smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.

A week later, Han invited himself over to your house, hoping to put an end to both of your guy's misery. You hated feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him, and he hated thinking he was making you uncomfortable.

You guys ate dinner and started watching a drama. After the fourth episode Han pressed the pause button.

"Baby...can I show you something?"

You nodded, slightly confused as to why Jisung would pause your binge.

He grabbed his laptop from his bag and came back towards you, placing his headphones on your head.

He unlocked his laptop, clicked a few buttons and a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyes widened.

"Did you guys wrtie a new song?" You asked excitedly, but Jisung shushed you gently and motioned for you to listen.

You closed your eyes and let yourself go, embracing the music fully.

You felt your heart almost stop when you heard the words of your poem masterfully intricated into the song.

"Why did you show me that?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't dare open your eyes, or you were sure the tears you had would fall.

Han sounded puzzled. "Because it's great and I wanted to share it."

"But it's not great," you snapped, tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. "People will know you just used those words. You're so much more well versed and-"

Han stopped in his tracks, realization dawning on him. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to show them how talented you are.” You shook your head.

"Ouch, Y/N..." Jisung chuckled, his voice breaking a little. You looked at Han, whose chubby cheeks were encompassed by his pout. His boba eyes sad.

"No- No baby I meant... I feel like my words are stupid. Not your voice. Your song was absolutely beautiful... I just feel like I made you waste such a good backtrack."

You wiped away a tear, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't help but feel like I'll never be as good as everyone else. And I feel like you did that to make me feel better..."

Han pulled you into a tight hug, his voice gentle and soothing. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're incredibly talented and creative, and your art is a reflection of who you are. It's unique and beautiful, just like you."

You clung to him, the sincerity in his words slowly breaking through your walls. "I just want to feel like I'm enough," you whispered.

Han held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "You are more than enough. Your worth isn't defined by how perfect your art or writing is or how you compare to others. It's about the passion and love you put into what you do."

His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. Han's unwavering support and belief in you made a difference, and you realized that your insecurities didn't define you.

"And I didn't make that song to make you feel better...I made it so you could see just how much inspiration I find from you. Y/N I love you more than anything. So, I was over the moon when I wrote this. And even more elated when I got to use the words the love of my life wrote. That's only the demo..." He grins sheepishly. "I was thinking...it would sound cool if you could leave that poem as a voicemail. I could make it the outro of the song..."

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it baby. I mean... I know Stay speculates I'm in a relationship...it's been a year now so I feel like this would be a fun way of confirming that. And I want the world to hear the beautiful voice of my baby." He coos, squishing your cheeks.

You giggle and nod, as Han peppers kisses all over your face.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Han handed you a sketchbook he had bought for you. "I got this for you. I want you to fill it with whatever makes you happy. No pressure, just pure creativity. It doesn't even have to be art. Maybe you could write me more poems..."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Ji. For everything."

Han wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm always here for you. And for inspiration. Because you're my inspiration." He says nuzzling his nose against yours.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

His inspiration. You thought.

What an amazing thing to be...

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[solar-wing]

⚣ It's Not A Competition 🥇

⚣👊🏻 A/N → SURPRISE! double post today! I've been wanting to do a Clark Kent post forever but never had any good ideas. Then, this popped into my mind. Also, I'm really trying to clear out my drafts and any old requests. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Jealousy | Established Relationship

⚣👊🏻 Summary → Dark Knight this and Dark Knight that. What about Superman?! He's also a great hero! Better than Batman, at least. The guy doesn't even have powers. But that's what makes him more interesting and cool, according to Y/N. And frankly, Clark has had quite enough and intends to show him why Superman is way better than Batman.

⚣👊🏻 Words → 4.7K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👊🏻

Clark just didn’t get it.

Why was it that Y/N was so obsessed with Batman and not Superman? All the young reporter ever talked about was the Dark Knight and how he was so cool and mysterious. Going on and on about his awesome gadgets and the fact that he had no powers, which made him so interesting.

Clark very much would beg to differ.

“You know, Superman can shoot lasers out of his eyes, and I heard he can move faster than the speed of sound,” Clark pointed out while walking with Y/N down the sidewalk. They decided to go out for lunch and since the Daily Planet was so close to one of Y/N's favorite restaurants downtown, he figured, why not just walk together?

“Clark, not this again,” Y/N chuckled while sipping his drink.

“I’m sorry, you just always talk about how great Batman is, and I’m not saying he’s bad, but I don’t get how he’s better than Superman?”

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Lois with all your Superman praise and comparison.”

“Well, she’s not wrong. I mean, come on. What can Batman do that Superman can’t?” Clark asked, looking down at his boyfriend while waiting for an answer.

“Batman’s quicker on his feet. He thinks of solutions faster and more creatively than what I’ve seen from Superman. Plus, he’s resourceful. The guy’s got a freaking jet. The only people I could think of that own jets and planes and all the crazy gadgets he has would probably be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne.”

Clark tried not to react to the irony of that statement, rather focusing on how he could combat that logic even though it was true. He had to admit that his comrade, whether in the field or in practice, was very good at analyzing a situation and using whatever he had around him to his advantage.

Still, it didn’t mean he was better than him.

“Well, Superman can also fly, and as many have witnessed, is crazy strong.”

“Yes, he is. But if Batman can afford a jet, I’m pretty sure he can afford a jetpack, too. Plus, we all know how strong Superman is, some more than others. Their insurance claims can definitely speak to how strong he is.”

That last line Y/N said was more so to himself than as a statement to Clark. However, it didn’t take away the slight sting from his words, considering how true they were.

“So you’re saying Superman is reckless and bad at his job or something?” Clark accused.

“What? No, I’m not saying that at all. Why are you getting so defensive about this? You’re acting as if you know the guy. Wait, do you know him?” Y/N asked, now looking up at his giant of a boyfriend.

Sometimes, he wondered what kind of genes ran in Clark’s family. It was a bit of a puzzle to Y/N why the six-foot-something man was in journalism rather than something that seemed more his speed, like fitness or athletics.

“No, of course not. I just don’t think it’s fair or even logical to compare Superman to someone like Batman, considering what each of them has respectfully achieved, not to mention the state of their cities and everything. I mean, have you ever been to Gotham before?” Clark asked, doing his best to not draw any more curiosity or suspicion out of the younger male.

Not that he was doing a good job of that in the first place.

Clark just wished he could’ve shown Y/N why Superman was better than Batman. They’d only been dating for a few months so it wasn’t reasonable or even smart for the Kryptonian to consider revealing his identity to him, no matter how much he wanted to.

“Clark, it’s not a competition. You know that, right?” Y/N said, placing his hand on Clark’s arm.

They paused in their steps, Clark looking down at the gentle hand lying across his forearm before looking up into the eyes that always put him under a spell. He smiled to himself, thinking of the fact that even if Y/N favored Batman over Superman, Clark was still the real winner, because he had him.

He took his hand in his own, doing his best to contain his excitement pulse at the feeling of his larger hand surrounding the smaller one in his grip. Y/N was still a male, so his hand wasn’t dainty or small by any means, but compared to Clark’s, it might as well have been.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, I got a little bit crazy.” Clark apologized with a small kiss on the shorter man’s hand causing a slight blush to appear on the smaller male’s cheeks.

“It’s ok. Besides, I like a little bit of crazy. Keeps things interesting.” Y/N said before continuing their walk towards Clark’s place of work.

‘You have no idea,’ Clark thought to himself as he followed behind, letting himself be tugged along.

They returned to the Daily Planet to find everywhere in a buzz, chattering excitedly with each other as various individuals were either running to the bathroom with pouches of makeup and skincare and others at their desks touching up their hair and clothes.

“What’s going on?” Clark asked aloud as he strode into the office while still holding Y/N’s hand.

“Was it like this when we left?” His boyfriend asked, chuckling at the comical movements and gestures of the rushing to get re-ready for whatever was happening.

“No, it was actually the opposite,” The reporter stated before eventually spotting Lois at her desk, who was also touching up her makeup and hair. He made his way over to the desk area, narrowly avoiding multiple people rushing while pulling Y/N closer to him to keep him from getting bumped into.

“Lois, what’s going on?”

“Oh, hey, Smallville. Hello, Y/N. Didn’t you both get the emergency email Perry sent to everyone earlier?” She said in her usual fast-paced, business tone while curling her eyelashes.

“No, We were at lunch. What was the email about?”

“Oh, Clark. Must I always have to save your butt?” Lois said before handing her phone over to the man, Y/N chuckling behind him at the comment.

Clark threw him a look while Y/N did his best to keep a neutral face before reading over the email.

“Bruce Wayne is coming to the Daily Planet?”

Y/N's eyes went comically large at the mention, immediately jumping to read the email for himself, “No way!”

Lois smirked to herself before grabbing her phone back from the man, while Clark just stared at his boyfriend in jealous shock from his excited outburst. “Yep. Wayne Enterprises has announced its support of various major liberal movements and is donating large proceeds to different organizations calling for massive change in the nation. And with this being an election year, many political figures and business entities are feeling a little uneasy at this sudden new support from the tech giant. And yours truly, landed the exclusive interview with him to get all the nitty and gritty details .”

Y/N’s eyes were almost bugging out of his head, before he ran to the bathroom himself, snatching his hand from Clark’s who looked desperately after him.

“Dammit, Bruce.” The reporter growled under his breath.

“You say something?” Lois asked while powdering her nose.

“No,” Clark responded gruffly, an irritated glint in his eye before walking to his own desk.

After everyone has ridiculously made themselves extra presentable, including Y/N much to Clark’s annoyance, the pair stand outside the room with a few others, watching through the glass pane walls as the interview is broadcast live to the entire nation. Lois asked Mr. Wayne various questions, ranging from his real intentions behind his charitable donations to whether he was looking to begin any political endeavors and win the favor of the public.

Bruce answers every question with confidence and suaveness, leaving no room for questions about his actions, and denies any political motivations. Y/N watched impressed from the other end while Clark just looked around with a grim and irritated look, his arms crossed as he listened to the interview and watched his boyfriend fanboy over his secret comrade.

“Well, you certainly seem like the charming and noble benefactor, Mr. Wayne. I can see why you're known as ‘Gotham’s Favorite Son.’ I have to ask though, even if you truly have no political ambitions, aren’t you worried that these donations and announcements along with the unwavering stance you’ve taken on these political topics will inevitably place a target on you?” Lois asked, notepad and pen sitting with poise and precision, ready to take down every little thing the billionaire said.

“Wow, I can see why she’s so respected. She’s nailing this interview.” Y/N commented.

Clark nodded to that. Even if he wasn’t feeling the most agreeable at the moment, he’d always give hats off to Lois’ skills. The woman was a powerhouse when it came to this stuff.

“Well, first off, thank you for your earlier comment. I don’t think of myself as anyone’s favorite, but even I can’t control what the public says or does,” Bruce responded with his ever-so-billion-dollar smile, earning a laugh from Lois and probably every other American tuning into this broadcast, including Y/N.

Clark, however, wasn’t impressed. He’d heard funnier.

“But, to answer your question,” Bruce continued, “...any move in the business or even the political world I imagine can be considered a risky one. I’m not going to pretend that my decisions have made some very happy, and others very unhappy. That’s life. You can’t please everyone. But, to sit and accept things as the way they are for fear of retaliation or backlash is misery in itself. I believe anyone who doesn’t speak up for what they truly believe or want for fear of ‘rocking the boat’ is just content with living in their own misery. And, let me be clear before I’m canceled—I know the meaning behind that now thanks to my kids, particularly my two youngest sons—I’m not saying someone who’s genuinely content and happy with where they are is included in this. I’m specifically talking to those who want change, and want to create a better world, but are waiting for others to do it for them.”

Despite its clichéness, many in the hall gave a small clap to the CEO’s words, Y/N looking thoroughly impressed himself.

“Wow, he really is an inspiring man,” Y/N commented.

“He’s alright,” Clark said in response.

Y/N gave the taller man a suspicious side look, “Alright, what’s going on with you? You’ve been standing there pouting

since this interview started. What, do you not like Bruce Wayne or something?"

Clark sighed before looking down at his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn't really liking the guy at the moment. But, it was just because he was so jealous. He didn’t like how Y/N was looking at him, or how he was talking about him.

It wasn't fair.

The reporter wanted Y/N to be looking at him and only him like that, and he wanted his attention and affection, and he wanted him to only talk about him like that. It was petty, and it was selfish, but Clark didn’t care.

He just wanted Y/N to only admire Clark Kent. not Bruce Wayne.

Only Superman, not Batman.

Despite Y/N's earlier words about it not being a competition, Clark knew the truth. It was a competition, one he was not planning on losing.

"No, I don't not like him. I'm just not that impressed, is all. He's not a superhero." Clark said.

"Neither is Lex Luthor. But, that doesn't stop the public from making him the villain in his story. I'm sure there's a lot more to Bruce Wayne than the media is letting on."

"Oh, trust me. There's more to him than what meets the eye," Clark mumbled to himself as the interview was getting ready to wrap up.

"Well, on behalf of the Daily Planet, I'd like to thank you for joining us today. Your words are certainly ones that will not go unheard by many. I look forward to—"

Before Lois could finish speaking, the lights in the building suddenly went out, leaving the office pitch black. A few people in the hall gasp, Y/N instinctively grabbing Clark's arm, who in turn places his hand over the smaller man's own.

"What's going on?" Someone asks.

"I don't know. It's almost like a blackout, but it can't be because we have backup generators. They should've turned it on by now." Another responded.

"Clark, what's going on?" Y/N asked toward his boyfriend, who was holding the smaller male closer to him out of instinct.

"I'm not exactly sure..."

Just as he said that, the lights came back on, and everyone was looking around confused as to what the source of the blackout was.

"Oh my god!" One of the people in the hall screamed suddenly as everyone turned back towards the interview room. Inside the room, some members of the crew suddenly had masks with insignias covering their faces on them. One of them was behind Lois holding a dagger to her neck while another stood to the side, pointing a gun directly at Bruce's head.

"I'm so sorry to interrupt, Ms. Lane," The individual in the middle of the room said, "But, this interview isn't over just yet."

"Who the hell are you people?!" Lois asked, fear and anger in her eyes as the blade was held to her neck.

"Wouldn't you like to know? As for Mr. Wayne, we're going to have a little chat. I suggest you and your friends don't follow or intervene. Otherwise, this broadcast won't be the only thing getting cut" The masked individual threatened, nodding to Lois.

"Don't you dare touch her," Bruce warned, his expression serious, as he got ready to stand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Wayne. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen, now would we? Especially with all of America watching right now."

Bruce sat back down, knowing that his opponent was right. He couldn't let them hurt Lois, and he certainly couldn't risk any lives in this room.

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. We'll make this quick," The leader said as one of the other masked goons went to lock the door that led inside the interview room.

"Clark, we have to do something," Y/N said, his heart racing a mile a minute.

"I know. Stay here. I'll be back." Clark said before running off, leaving the smaller male alone.

"What? Clark, wait! Where are you going?" Y/N called after him, but the taller man didn't hear him, already too far away.

'What the hell is he doing?' Y/N thought to himself before turning his attention back towards the situation in front of him.

As Clark rounded the corner and made his way down the hallway, he made sure no one was watching him before he ran as fast as he could into the supply closet. Once inside, he quickly changed into his suit before taking off through the backdoor.

"So, how does it feel knowing that you're on the side of the wrong? How does it feel knowing that no matter what you do, you'll never be able to fix the mess you made? All the lives lost because of you," The masked man asked Bruce, who was sitting calmly in his chair, his eyes not showing an ounce of fear.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't. None of you wealthy elites do. You don't know the pain and suffering your companies and your products cause to others. You don't know the misery you cause. Well, allow us to show you." The man said before signaling his partners.

One of them immediately moved and grabbed a hold of the camera, pointing it directly at the masked man in the center.

"Hello, Metropolis. And hello, America. If you're watching this, that means you're just as much a part of this as we are. if you've been sitting here listening to the lies and promises of a better world by this man and his kind, you are as much a part of his schemes as he is. It is because of people like him that we have the world we live in. It's because of people like him that so many of us suffer. It's because of people like him that the world will only continue to rot and decay until there is nothing left but a pile of ashes. But, we will not be the ones who burn. We will not be the ones who lose. We will not be the ones who suffer, not anymore. Today, we fight back. Today, we will show the world that we will not be silenced, we will not be oppressed. We will not allow the likes of him and his kind to continue to control us anymore with false promises of a better tomorrow while lining their own pockets. Today, we say enough is enough. Today, we rise. Today, we will take back what is rightfully ours. Today, we take back our freedom and our lives from the rich and corrupt." The man spoke, his words filled with conviction and determination, but also hatred and poison as he stared deep into the camera.

"And if any of you try to stop us, then you will be considered just as guilty as the rest of them. We will not be silenced. We will not be ignored. And if you think that the likes of Batman and Superman will save you, I wouldn't be too sure of that..."

As soon as the leader was done with his speech, the sound of the glass shattering was heard as Superman broke through the windows, flying into the room before stopping directly in front of the man holding the camera.

"But, I am..." The Man of Steel said, shooting a laser beam at the dagger being held by the goon threatening Lois. He immediately dropped the blade as it became too hot, giving the Daily Planet reporter the opportunity she needed to escape his hold.

"Bastards," She cursed, turning around and delivering a kick to the masked man's groin.

He groaned out in pain, falling to the floor before Lois punched him in the face, knocking him out.

Superman turned his attention back toward the masked man standing in the center, "I believe it's time for you to take a hike."

"Not yet. We still have unfinished business," The man said before signaling his other henchman. The man immediately aimed his gun at the Kryptonian, firing shot after shot into him.

Superman stood his ground as the bullets hit him, before eventually, the gun ran out.

"You're right. This is definitely the end," Superman said as he flew toward the man, knocking him out before he could reload his gun.

As Superman finished off the last of the henchmen, the leader turned back towards the camera, "Sorry, Superman. But, the damage has already been done. I hope you enjoyed this little taste of what's to come."

Before the Kryptonian could stop him, the man took out a smoke bomb, throwing it onto the ground and covering the room in a cloud of smoke.

"Crap," Superman cursed, unable to see as the man escaped.

As the smoke began to clear, Bruce took out his phone, "Alfred, I need you to track this signal."

"Understood, sir. I've also informed the police and they're on their way," Alfred responded.

"Good," Bruce said before turning back towards the room.

The actual camera crew was not out in the hall, hugging their co-workers who were all relieved at their safety. The broadcast was cut from the air, but there was no doubt every TV station from here to San Francisco was talking about it. Y/N was standing nearby, his eyes filled with awe and admiration as he stared up at Superman.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

...

Nah.

"That was incredible, Mr. Wayne," Lois said.

"I could say the same thing about you. I'm glad you're ok."

Lois smiled at him, "You were worried about me?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" Bruce asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

Lois blushed slightly before turning back to look at Superman, who was now standing right in front of the two.

"Thank you for the save, Superman," Lois said, extending her hand out to the Kryptonian.

"My pleasure," Superman said, shaking the woman's hand before his attention was drawn toward Bruce who just gave him an appreciative nod. Though the look in his eyes signaled they would definitely be communicating about things later.

As Bruce and Lois moved towards the hallway, Lois spotted Y/N who was standing close to the door peeking inside.

"Oh Y/N, there you are! Thank goodness, you're alright." Lois said, walking over to him and hugging him.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Are you?" He asked, looking up at the woman.

"I'm fine. I'm tougher than I look."

"That's good to hear. And, it's good to see you’re okay as well Mr. Wayne. That was scary." Y/N said, turning his attention to the billionaire.

"Yes, I'm glad I'm alright, too," Bruce said, his attention on Y/N.

"Oh, Bruce Wayne, this is Y/N L/N. He's one of our upcoming new reporters along with Clark Kent, who you've met before." Lois said, introducing the two.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Y/N said, extending his hand out.

Bruce took it, giving the younger man a firm handshake, "The pleasure is all mine."

As the two looked at each other, Clark was standing nearby, his gaze focused on the two, his fists clenched.

'I swear to Rao...' He thought to himself, jealousy coursing through his body as he watched the two interact.

"So, Mr. Wayne, what do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked.

Bruce turned to look at the woman, an amused eyebrow raised, "He must be getting trained by you," He said, sparking a laugh from Lois and another eye roll from the Kryptonian before flying off, "And please, call me Bruce. Mr. Wayne makes me feel old."

"Bruce, then. What do you think that was all about?" Y/N asked again.

"Well, I can't be certain, but based on their words and their actions, I'd say they were a group of anarchists."

"Anarchists?"

"Yes. They're not an uncommon group. Many people are growing tired of the way things are in this country. With the state of the economy and the government, it's only a matter of time before things begin to boil over."

"So, you think this is going to happen more often?"

"I'm not sure. But, I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of them."

Y/N nodded his thoughts on the events that had transpired earlier.

"Y/N!" Clark called, interrupting the conversation.

"Clark, there you are! You had me worried sick," The smaller male said while hugging his boyfriend, missing the sharp look the taller man was throwing at the billionaire.

"I just went to alert the building security and the police. Seems everything turned alright though since Superman showed up," Clark said, wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist while still giving a side eye to Bruce who was watching with amusement.

"Yes, thank goodness he did. I'm sure we all owe him a huge thanks for his services."

"Yes, indeed we do. But, unfortunately, I must be going now. It was a pleasure meeting you, Y/N." Bruce said, extending his hand once more to the younger man, who took it, shaking it gently.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, too."

Bruce smiled at him before turning back to Lois, "And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Lois."

"Likewise, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce smirked, "I do believe we're a bit past the formalities now, Lois. Please, call me Bruce."

"Of course. Bruce." The woman replied, her tone flirty and her expression coy.

Y/N noticed this and turned to look at Clark, whose expression was blank as he looked on.

"Will do, Lois. I look forward to our next meeting," Bruce said before stopping in front of Clark.

"Good seeing you as well Clark, as short-lived as it was," Bruce said, extending his hand out for a handshake.

Clark reluctantly took it, the handshake lasting longer than was necessary.

"Likewise," Clark replied.

Bruce nodded, his eyes giving the reporter a knowing look before he was escorted out by security.

Once the billionaire was out of sight, Clark and Y/N decided to leave as well, making their way towards the elevator.

"Well, that was a crazy day," Y/N said.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"Do you think Bruce Wayne knows Batman?"

Clark stopped mid-step, a shocked expression on his face as he looked down at his boyfriend.

"Are you serious right now? You can't be serious?" The taller man said with an indignant expression.

"What?"

"You're still thinking of Batman after Superman just came and saved everyone?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, he's a hero too. They both are. Besides, Superman is always getting most of the credit, don't you think? It would make sense if they were working together. You know, the world's greatest detective and the world's greatest hero, solving crime and catching the bad guys. Wouldn't that be so cool?" Y/N asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement at the thought.

"No, not really. I don't see why that would be a good idea," Clark said, rolling his eyes.

Y/N sighed, "Clark, remember what we talked about earlier about it not being a competition?"

Clark looked down at the smaller man, his eyes filled with frustration, "Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to obsess over Batman. Superman is just as obsessed-worthy!"

"Clark, seriously, what is up with you? It's not like I want to marry him or something."

"You're acting like you want to," Clark mumbled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Look, Clark. I'm not going to say I'm not a fan of Batman. I mean, I think he's cool. But, that doesn't mean that I'm not a fan of Superman either. I'm a fan of both of them. I think they're both great heroes, and I think they both do good work."

"But, you don't think that Batman is cooler, or that he's better than Superman?" Clark asked, his expression pleading.

"I mean, I guess. But, why does that matter? Why are you so hung up about this?"

"Because, I—" Clark started before stopping, knowing he was about to give away his identity.

"You what?"

"I just want you to think of me, is all," Clark said, looking down at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Y/N's heart softened at the confession, the older man looking like a little kid who just got his favorite toy taken away. He stepped forward, cupping the taller man's face in his hands, causing him to look up.

"Clark, I do think about you. I think about you all the time and I love how protective you are of me. Whether I like Batman or Superman more isn't going to change that" Y/N said, trying his best to ease his boyfriend's fears.

"Promise?" Clark asked.

Y/N chuckled, "I promise."

"Good," Clark smiled while leaning down to place a kiss against his boyfriend's lips, "You should still like Superman more."

Y/N rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Clark. I'll work on that."

"Thank you."

"Whatever. Now come on, we now have a celebratory date to go on." Y/N said as he grabbed Clark's hand.

"What are we celebrating?" Clark asked with a laugh as he was pulled towards the elevator.

It was always adorable watching the smaller male pull Clark around like it was nothing.

"Surviving our first criminal encounter together," Y/N said while hitting the first-floor button.

"First?"

"Honey, we live in a city with sky-high insurance because a superhero lives here. You really think this will be the last?"

He definitely doesn't.

☀️ | Clark Kent/Superman | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[beomiracles]

thin walls, pt.3 final part

"when your new neighbour moves in he disturbs your peace and quiet ── however not all noise is bad noise..."

pairing; beomgyuxfemale!reader warnings; vaginal fingering, marking, unprotected sex, they fuck idk what else to say :3

note ─ this is a continuation to part 1 and part 2, I am forever grateful for the love this mini series has received and your sweet requests for more parts, this will however be the last and final part, please be understanding as I have other works I'd like to focus on and the fact that this was originally not supposed to be more than one part, love Serene •ᴗ•

hi that was a lie, here's a bonus scene

The first rays of sunshine peek through the curtains, pulling you from your slumber. Yawning you stretch your body out and roll over only to be met by something hard. Blinking your eyes open a horrified expression paints your face as you come face to face with your neighbours naked chest.

Beomgyu sleeps soundly next to you, arm draped over your waist as he pulls you closer. What the fuck happened. Mortified you look down only to realise that neither of you are wearing clothes. Your mind starts racing as you try and piece together the puzzle of last night. You remember falling asleep on his couch, waking up and going to the bathroom, then you, oh. OH.

Your eyes flutter closed as you think back to the previous night, catching your neighbour so shamelessly getting off to you, and...and offering to help him. You clearly remember the way he'd looked up at you with such lustful eyes, the words "yes please, ma'am" leaving his lips as if they were second nature.

Him pulling you onto his lap, having you straddle his waist as his hands roamed your body: from your chest, down your stomach, to your hips, caressing your soft thighs before sneaking their way between your legs. Throwing your head back in ecstasy as his fingers find your clit, teasing it before he dips two fingers inside of you. The way he curled his fingers so perfectly, making you arch your back and grind yourself onto his hand.

You softly run your fingers along his chest, admiring the way it rises and falls with his rhythmic breathing as he sleeps. Long red lines cover his pretty torso, and you remember how you dug your nails into his skin the night before, dragging them down his chest as his cock filled your pussy so heavenly.

Rough hands on your waist to keep you in place as he thrust up into you making you scream his name. Leaning down to press kisses against his jawline, down his neck, collarbones and chest. Biting and nibbling at his soft skin, his now sleeping figure was blooming with red and purple spots, and you revelled in them.

Seeing your neighbour's face beneath you as you ride him, scrunched up from pleasure, his pink lips slightly parted as the soft whimper of your name escapes them. All the things you'd been hearing, imagining, fantasising about, were all happening.

Not caring about the fact that you weren't on the pill because when he so breathlessly asked, "please- let me come inside you", nothing else mattered. Steading yourself by placing your hands on his chest, feeling his muscles tense as he spills himself inside of you, the most sinful sounds leaving his mouth as you clench around him.

Laying on top of his toned torso as you both catch your breath, feeling his hands run through your hair and you close your eyes thinking, this is bliss. Falling asleep, naked bodies tangled together in a sweaty mess. And that's how you found yourself naked in your neighbours bed.

You glanced up at Beomgyu's sleeping figure, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. Suddenly a wave of realisation hits you and you shoot up, "oh my god!", you exclaim. A tired groan draws your attention to Beomgyu as he props himself up on his elbows. "Shit, do you always have this much energy in the morning?" he yawns. "What time is it?" you shriek as you try to get out of bed, only to be stopped by hand on your wrist. "Too fucking early for you to be actin' like this", he says in his deep morning voice, fuck it was so sexy.

Quickly shaking such thoughts away you try and wriggle out of his grip, "I need to go". Beomgyu sits up completely as he frowns, "was I that bad?" His words make you falter as your cheeks heat up, "I- no it was amazing I mean, you were amazing I-" you clear your throat awkwardly. He chuckles as he runs his free hand through his hair, "then why the rush?" "I have to get to work! I'm surely late already!", you finally free yourself from his grasp as you start searching his room for your clothes.

"Lookin' for something?" he drawls behind you making you turn to him. A shit-eating grin plastered on his face, as he dangles your panties by his pinky finger. "Give me that!" you scowl, attempting to snatch your panties back but failing. He shakes his head, "you can't just leave me like that, I'll be needing something to keep me company", he smirks. "You're nasty", you comment as you throw on you pjyamas from the day before, Beomgyu's smirk widens, "you love it".

Rolling your eyes, you resist the urge to smack him. Hesitating in the doorway of his bedroom you glance back at him. "I'm expecting you to return those to me when I'm back from work today", you say, crossing your arms. "So you want me to come over for a round two?" Beomgyu grins as he twirls your panties around on his fingers, "I- that's certainly not what I meant- I-", you stammer, "j-just bring my damn panties back to me or you're dead meat".

Beomgyu chuckles, "yes ma'am". He was dead set on that second round when you came home, but for now your panties would suffice.

→ want to get notified whenever a new dream is published? join my TAGLIST ★ all rights reserved ─ @beomiracles 2024

[nerdy-novelist017]

Borrowed Bites (Eric Draven x Rebel!Reader pt 2)

Added another part since the last one was received so well! Thank you for the kind words and appreciation! I'd LOVE to hear your thoughts on this part! 💕

Eric Draven Masterlist

Word Count- 2.9k+

Summary- He just couldn't get away from you. You were corrupting his routine, his life, his thoughts.

Eric sought refuge in the library, a quiet sanctuary where the weight of the facility’s sterile air seemed to lift, just a little. The room was a cocoon of silence, the faint scent of old, yellowed books filtering through his senses. Here, amid the shelves of dusty volumes, he could be transported to somewhere else, somewhere where the walls were not closing in on him little by little every day. 

He was supposed to be assigned to cleaning the room for the next hour, but he was finished within the first 30 minutes, so now he sat in the aisle, leaning up against the shelf. He was lost in the pages of an old art book, the kind that made him ache for life outside of these walls. He was staring at a particular page of a charcoal drawing of a horse, the scene bringing back his own past in a swirl of paint strokes, charcoal lines, the delicate dance of light and dark. 

But that moment was shattered by the sound of the door opening and footsteps approaching him. His heart sank, a heavy stone sinking into the pit of his stomach. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air around him seemed to buzz with a familiar energy, one he had been trying – and failing – to avoid. 

“You hiding out in here, artist boy?” your voice broke through the stillness of the room, a playful tone that underscored something sharper, something that pricked at his defenses. 

Eric’s eyes glanced up, catching just a brief look at your face above him before dropping back to the book in his lap. He knew by just the few times of your interactions since your arrival to the facility a week ago, that his disinterest would not be enough to make you go away. No, it seemed that you could not take a hint, no matter how obvious it was. 

“This place is a real snoozefest,” you said as you lowered yourself on the floor in front of him, sitting cross-legged. You leaned forward on your hands, trying to peer at his book. “I didn’t peg you for the library type.”

“It’s quiet here,” he muttered, his voice almost devoid of emotion. “That’s why I like it here.”

“And here I thought you came for the thrilling company,” you teased, your voice taking on a hint of something more – a curiosity perhaps, or an understanding that he didn’t want you to have. 

“Shouldn’t you be off trying to seduce the guards?” he bit back, referencing your words from his first unwanted interaction with you. 

You grinned mischievously as you brushed a strand of your unruly hair out of your face. “I’m still working on that, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not interested,” his fingers tightened around the edges of his book as he spoke with a certain level of finality, attempting to completely sever the connection you were trying to forge. 

“Not interested in what?” you pressed, tilting your head in a way that Eric came to understand as you attempting to figure him out, like you were trying to put together the puzzle pieces of his mind. 

He hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He didn’t know how to answer, how to articulate the mind-jumbling swirl of emotions inside him. He finally grumbled, “In whatever game you’re playing.”

A brief flash of hurt flickered across your face, so quick that he almost missed it. But then you recovered with that infuriating grin. “Who says I’m playing a game?”

Uncomfortable with that reaction, his gaze fell back down to his book, as if the words would allow him an escape of whatever trap you were setting. “Just leave me alone.”

But of course, that wasn’t enough to deter you. You weren’t the type to back down so easily. Instead, you leaned back against the opposite shelf from him, folding your arms as if preparing for a long conversation he had no interest in having. 

“You know,” you started, your voice a touch softer now, “you’re not as invisible as you might think.”

Eric’s jaw tightened, the words hitting him hard. He had spent so long trying to be just that – invisible, a ghost passing through unnoticed. But you saw him, and you wouldn’t look away. 

“I’m not hiding,” he retorted quietly, but the words sounded hollow even to himself. 

“Then why won’t you look at me?” Your question hung heavy in the air between you, a challenge he wasn't sure how to meet. 

He forced himself to look up at you, your direct gaze sending his heart to his stomach. He refused to admit it, refused, but something about you drew him in like a moth to a flame, something about your eyes that refused to look away. 

“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice low. 

You didn’t answer immediately, your gaze evocative as you studied him silently, as if searching for something beneath the surface. “I want to know you,” you said finally, the simplicity of the words cutting through him. 

Eric stared at you, his mind racing to find a response to that strange statement, something that would push you away, make you see that there was nothing worth knowing in him. But all he could manage was, “Why?”

“Because,” you said as you leaned forward slightly, your voice barely above a whisper, “you’re different. I can tell.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to respond to the sincerity in your voice. The way you seemed to genuinely care unsettled him, the way you saw him and refused to let him fade into the background like he wanted. 

“You don’t know me,” he said after a moment, his words heavy with frustration and something else that he didn’t want to examine too closely. It was the same words he had told you a week ago when you first spoke to him and flipped his world upside down, but he couldn’t find anything else to say to you. You didn’t know him, that was true. But you definitely wanted to fit yourself into his life, to know him as he knew himself. 

“I think you’re worth figuring out.” A small smile tugged at your lips.

He wanted to scoff, to brush off your words as naive and misguided, but there was something in your tone, in the way you were looking not just at him but through him, made it impossible to miss. You were being sincere, and that shook him to his core.

“I’m not,” he retorted, his voice weaker than he intended. “I’m just another screw-up, just like everyone else in here.”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re more than that.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, didn’t know how to process the unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest. All he knew was you were getting way too close, digging too deep into feelings he’d locked away a long time ago. He reached for the book, flipping it open to a random page in a futile attempt to avoid your intense gaze. But the words on the page blurred, the images that had once brought him comfort now seemed distant, unreachable. 

Before you could say anything else, the sound of the door opening again startled both of you, shattering the temporary bubble you were enclosed in, and Eric looked up just in time to see a guard round the corner of the aisle, his heavy footsteps thudding on the worn carpet. He instantly sat up straighter, his heart racing slightly when the guard’s eyes caught sight of the two of you. 

“What are you doing in here?” The guard’s voice was a harsh intrusion, his gaze narrowing between you like a hawk sizing up its prey. 

Eric shot you a nervous glance your way. To anyone else, your expression would have looked completely neutral as you regarded the man nearing you both, but Eric could see the tension in your jaw, the way it ticked ever so slightly, betraying the anger brewing just beneath the surface. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you replied casually, almost dismissive. But the guard’s wasn’t in the mood for games. He cut you off before you could say anything more.

“You know the rules,” he barked, his voice echoing in the stillness of the library. “No fraternizing.”

You put your hands up in mock surrender, a gesture that might have seemed playful if not for the sarcasm dripping in your voice as you replied, “Yeah, right. God forbid anyone make any friends in here.”

The guard’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing to slits. Without warning, he grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet with a roughness that made Eric flinch  “You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to get sober and stop being a burden and a piece of shit to society.” 

The harsh words hung in the air like poison, their words seeping into the cracks the moment. Eric felt a surge of panic in his chest as he snapped the book shut, the sound like a gunshot in the tense silence. He stood quickly, instinctively knowing it was best not to argue, not to escalate the situation further. Just follow the rules, he told himself, a mantra he clung to since he got here. But he knew you well enough now that you wouldn’t – couldn't – do that.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel about it,” you shot back, your voice clouded with defiance. 

“You think this is funny?” The guard hissed, his voice dropping to a menacing low. “Keep running that mouth and you’ll find out just how serious we are.”

For a brief moment, Eric saw a flicker of something in your eyes – a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear – but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same defiance that both worried and awed him. 

Eric felt the weight of the moment bearing down on the room, the oppressive atmosphere of the facility closing in. He knew he should say something, do something to alleviate the tension, but the fear of the repercussions, of going back to solitary confinement, held him back, rendering him silent and still. 

“Come on,” the guard snapped, pulling you towards the door. “We’re done here.”

As you were dragged away, you cast one last look over your shoulder to Eric, and he could see the mix of emotions in your eyes – anger, frustration and something that resembled regret. And Eric’s chest tightened at the sight because you weren’t just leaving as you always did. You were being taken away, and he was powerless to stop it. 

The door slammed shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening. Eric stood frozen, staring at the spot you occupied just moments before, his mind racing. He gripped the book in his hand with a white knuckle power as he realized he had let the guard take you without so much as lifting a finger, without saying a word. The realization twisted like a knife in his gut, a painful reminder of his own helplessness. 

*****

Eric didn’t see you for the rest of the day. He tried not to think about how he even noticed your lack of presence and especially how it made him feel. The day passed with the same level of dreadful monotony that he had been subjected to since the very first day he’d arrived in this hellhole. 

It wasn’t until lunchtime the next day until he saw you again. The cafeteria thrummed with the repeated sounds of everyday life here – the clatter of trays connecting, the gentle murmur of quiet conversation, the sporadic eruptions of laughter or from souls lost in their own struggles. Eric sat by himself at a table near the corner of the room, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of his tray as he picked at the array of bland, tasteless food before him. The harsh fluorescence above cast a stark, unforgiving light over everything, rendering the room devoid of any warmth. 

He was halfway through forcing another bite of the food when you suddenly materialized across the expanse of the bustling room. You slid into the seat across from him, a mirthful grin on your face. 

“Did you miss me, artist boy?” you asked with a tilt of your head, that signature smirk playing across your lips.

He wasn’t going to answer that, not even for himself. He averted his gaze to his tray instead, afraid that you would be able to read through his expressions as you so often did. That didn’t seem to bother you though because without hesitation (or permission) you reached over and swiped a roll from his tray, taking a bite as if it was casual. 

“Hey,” Eric protested softly, though his voice lacked any true anger, more like mild annoyance. In fact, he was actually relieved to see you, no matter how much he wanted to deny it. There was a brief moment last night as he lay awake in his bed going over the interaction of the library when he wondered if you had been locked in solitary for your actions. He didn’t think you had said or done anything to warrant such an offense, but you were unpredictable. He had no idea if you continued to fight, to mouth off after the guard dragged you away. Seeing you here in front of him was confirmation that, for once, you had refrained from doing anything to further your punishments here. 

“What?” you asked with a nonchalant shrug. “You weren’t eating it.”

Eric rolled his eyes, a silent gesture of exasperation. “You could’ve just asked.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You quipped as you leaned back in your seat, your gaze sweeping across the room as if you were just examining the scene before you, waiting patiently for something – anything – to disrupt the routine. 

He watched you for a moment, captivated by the restless energy that perpetually seemed to follow you. It was as though you were perched on the edge of some unseen cliff, ready to plunge off the side at any given moment. The near constant state of heightened alertness was both exhausting and irresistibly captivating for him, an anomaly that left him simultaneously drained and drawed in. 

“Why do you do that?” he asked suddenly, the question catching himself off guard, and he instantly wanted to take it back. 

“Do what?” you replied smoothly, not missing a beat. 

“Act like . . . I don’t know. Like nothing matters.”

You blinked at him, momentarily taken aback. Then you smiled and with a half shrug, responded, “Because it doesn’t. 

But Eric could see the flicker of something more profound, a bit sad even in your eyes, and it casted doubt in the authenticity of your words. 

“Right,” he muttered, his voice laced with skepticism. Your gaze left his and he took that as a sign of your wanting to drop the subject so he returned to his food, though his appetite was severely diminished. 

For a while, silence enveloped the two of you. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence, albeit still surrounded with the rest of the cafeteria buzz. When he glanced back up at you, he could see the sudden change in your eyes as you glanced about the room once again. He had witnessed that look before – one that usually preceded your reckless actions, the calm before the storm. 

“Don’t,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with caution.

You turned your attention back to him with a look of feigned innocence. “Don’t what?”

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing,” Eric replied, his tone now carrying seriousness. 

A familiar spark of chaotic energy ignited in your eyes as you grinned. “What makes you think I’m planning something, Eric?”

“Because you always are.”

You giggled, clearly amused at his concern, and he tried to ignore the rush of butterflies that hit his chest at the sound of it. “Relax. I’m not about to blow up the place or anything.”

“That’s not comforting,” he muttered, though the faintest hint of a smile betrayed his true feelings. 

Before you could respond with yet another one of your signature quips, a guard ambled by, scanning the room with hawkish vigilance. You immediately straightened up, your playful grin fading as you donned a more neutral, guarded expression. 

As the guard continued his stroll, you leaned forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial low. “Meet me by the west wing storage closet after lunch.”

Your tone left no room for negotiation or refusal, but Eric hesitated, a storm of instincts battling within him, urging him to resist. But there was something in the way you looked at him – something that compelled him to nod reluctantly. 

You shot him a quick, satisfied smile before rising gracefully and sauntering away, leaving Eric alone once again with a whirlwind of emotions and a nagging feeling that he was about to be pulled into something he would regret. Yet, despite the better judgment that screamed caution, he knew he would go. Because as much as you exasperated him, left him bewildered, and sometimes even frightened him, there was a part of him that was irresistibly drawn to you. A part that yearned to unravel the mystery of why you were the way you were. 

"Fuck," he murmured under his breath.

-Tag List-

@redwitchbitch1 @marshm3770fluff @one-of-thewalkingdead @rubyfruitjungle @mrsvalbaker @m00npjm @maimai-0603 @at-midnight @fandom-fanatix @spoiled-bat13 @alinahdee @a-differentbrandof-jeans

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ²

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐥, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: whispers all around the marine ship warn of a new cadet handpicked by the vice admiral himself, making for fine gossip. meanwhile, the strawhat crew wonders why their captain is so frustrated with a storybook.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader, koby x platonic!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.5k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gender neutral reader, angst, platonic fluff, koby and reader team up of the century

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤: this is me trying

series masterlist

Koby really wanted Helmeppo to shut up, but didn’t have the heart to say it. So he let his new friend rattle on and on whilst they were meant to be getting important work done mopping the deck.

Though Koby did admit, the hushed whispers around the ship of a new cadet were intriguing. And apparently, Helmeppo knew all about the new recruit.

“New?” Helmeppo laughed. “They’re far from new. Been at this for a matter of months and already they’re at the top.”

“How come?” Koby couldn’t help but ask, leaning slightly on his mop. “Experience?”

“Probably,” Helmeppo considered, turning secretive the next moment. “I hear they grew up with Garp, learned all they know from him and their father, who also happens to be a major.”

No wonder there was so much praise for this cadet. “And they’re really that good?”

Helmeppo nodded through a sigh. “So they say. Apparently, they’ve been assigned to this ship by Garp himself. No big surprise there. If this cadet is as fierce as they claim, we’ve got some competition.”

Koby nodded mindlessly, getting back to swabbing the deck, trying his best to focus, but Helmeppo just moved on to the next topic of his interest. 

“Hey, do you wonder—” Helmeppo stopped short, catching sight of an approaching figure through the dark shrouding the deck. 

Glancing up, Koby saw them too, a puzzled crease forming on his brow. The figure fumbled about the dark, mumbling to themself, two buckets in hand. 

Only after nearly tripping over air and stumbling to a stop did they draw out a sigh and assess their surroundings, finding Koby and Helmeppo watching with equally curious expressions.

“Oh, uhm,” they stammered, stepping into the dim lamplight Koby had set to the side. “Hello. I’m, uh, I was sent me to help.” They set down the buckets and stepped back. “Fresh warm water, and uhm, soap.”

Koby reacted quicker than Helmeppo, who watched this stranger carefully. He went to inspect the first bucket, smiling at the sudsy water. Given that Helmeppo had knocked their bucket over and Koby could only save a quarter of the water, this was a godsend. “Thank you. This helps a lot.”

The words went straight to the stranger’s head, a smile breaking out on their face as they turned to take up a spare mop. “No problem. Anything to stay useful. That’s what my dad always says, at least. A useless soldier's a dead soldier, or something like that.”

Whatever reservations Helmeppo had faded at the prospect of another gossip buddy, prompting an eye roll from Koby as he moved to start cleaning the farther end of the deck.

“Are you new?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Oh, yeah,” the stranger replied. “I just transferred from that marine base we’re docked at.”

Helmeppo immediately stopped mopping and zeroed in on the stranger, like a disarming fledgling hawk to an unbothered mouse. “You would know about Y/N L/N, then. They’re being transferred to this ship too.”

There was a brief silence after the question, only long enough to have Koby cast a curious glance back at them. The stranger stopped mopping too, a thoughtful look crossing their face, before they nodded. “What about Y/N L/N?”

“So you’ve met them?” Helmeppo wondered, cutting the stranger off before they could answer. “I’m curious to see if they live up to their reputation.”

The stranger folded their hands behind their back, face quite expressionless. “Oh… What’s their reputation? From an outside perspective, I mean?”

“Only that they’re responsible for twenty arrests within the span of three months. That’s bullshit, in my opinion. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg.” The stranger’s undivided attention was now given to Helmeppo, and he was living for it. “Apparently, they were trained up by Vice Admiral Garp himself. I hear they’ve even had a drink with Dracule Mihawk. Can you believe that? Honestly, I’m just waiting to meet this cadet and see if they’re as cold hearted as everyone says.”

Now, Koby was smart. He had to be in order to survive. So of course he’d caught on far before Helmeppo, watching the stranger’s grip on their broom tighten and their gaze tighten into a glare. 

He rushed up behind the stranger and mimed for Helmeppo to shut up. All Koby got in return was a strange sort of look and complete ignorance. Koby ran a palm over his face.

The stranger was quiet for an everlasting moment, before they dipped their mop into a bucket and continued to do their job. “It was twenty-three.”

Helmeppo tilted his head as if to hear them better. “Sorry?”

Quite having enough of hearing what other people thought of you, you swiftly whirled back to face him with a steeled expression. “I said I took part in twenty-three arrests in three months. I was raised in the same town as Garp, so yes he trained me as a child. I’ve never met Dracule Mihawk and I’ve never had a drink with anyone.”

You jutted out your chin. “And yes, I’d say I am cold hearted when the situation requires it. Like when dealing with a ignorant, gossiping pain in my ass!”

Jaw slack, Helmeppo searched out for Koby’s assistance, only receiving a pointed glare from his friend. You mopped some more and moved to go back over the spot Helmeppo had already done. “Put some more elbow grease into it, yeah? These decks outta be spotless by morn.”

Miraculously, the deck was nothing but tranquil after that. The three of you worked in silence till just as you’d said, the deck was spotless to your satisfaction. Helmeppo retreated back to the barracks immediately, seeking to collect his pride off the floor, leaving you and Koby.

Koby was going to apologize on his friend’s behalf when he found you picking up your bucket and mop and trudging off to the afterdeck. Koby followed after you, telling you, “Oh, we don’t have to clean the afterdeck. That’s next shift’s job.”

You didn’t reply, setting the sloshing bucket down and starting to work. Koby paused. “We should sleep. We’re setting off tomorrow—”

“I’m aware,” you said carefully, without too much malice. “I know we don’t have to. I want to. I’m not tired.”

The bags under your eyes begged to differ. Koby watched you work before he hurried off, and half of you was sorry to be alone again. But then the boy came back with his own mop in hand, causing you to halt and observe as he started to join you.

“What’re you…”

“I’m Koby,” he said, holding out a hand with a scant smile. 

Glancing down, you accepted his hand and grinned. “Y/N. But you knew that.”

He grimaced. “Sorry about Helmeppo.”

Shrugging, you said, “Eh, I’m used to it.”

And you set back to mopping the night away, having the occasional laugh with Koby who did the same. Only when there was without a doubt nothing left to clean of the afterdeck, yet you continued to go back over it, did Koby stop and get in your way.

“I can see my reflection in the deck,” he tried to joke. “It’s okay to stop.”

You couldn’t tell him he was wrong. If you stopped, you had time to think. If you had time to think, you’d think of him. If you thought of Luffy, well, you’d be lost to your thoughts for the rest of the night. It was a whole cycle you couldn’t afford to go down. Not as a marine. 

Marine’s don’t have time for trivial affairs such as heartache.

But Koby was insistent, snatching your mop away from you and holding you back when you tried to get it back. He held a soft look as you glared daggers into him. “I think I understand.”

You scoffed, giving up and picking up the buckets to put away. You turned your back and headed to find the supply closet. “What exactly do you understand?”

“I... I was on a pirate ship before this,” he told you, causing you to slow enough for him to fall into step beside you. “I was forced to do things I’m not proud of. Sometimes I feel like I’ve got to make up for it.”

You cast him a glance. “I wasn’t a pirate.”

“But you’ve done something you’re not proud of,” he guessed.

Coming to a halt, you bit down on your cheek as Koby turned to face you, confusion laced in his expression. “You don’t know me, Koby. I’m proud of how I got here. That doesn’t make it easier to sleep at night.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “I understand.”

He didn’t. He couldn’t. But it was nice he tried, you supposed. “Okay.”

So he helped to put away the mops and dump out the buckets, following you back to the barracks. All the lights were off, leaving limited sight to find your way to your bunk, clambering through the dark as quietly as you could.

Koby was having a harder time, tripping over something and nearly waking the whole room. You shot him a glare and hurried to bed, hiding under the covers. The bed was hardly comfortable, and tossing and turning did nothing to provide any comfort. 

Rolling onto your back, you refrained from opening your eyes as long as you could before they pried themselves open, and you came face to face with Monkey D. Luffy. His wanted poster was pinned to the underside of the top bunk, something you had thought was a good idea at the time, but now it offered an unwanted spectator to your sleeplessness.

Still, you didn’t have the heart to take it down, pulling the thin blanket up over your head.

જ⁀➴

Nobody wanted to be the first to approach the captain, not when he was in a mood none of them had ever seen him in. If the crew was honest, it made them nervous.

“Somebody should make sure he’s okay,” said Usopp, looking around the lot of them as if to prompt one of them to step up. 

They all leaned upon the railing around the ship’s helm, eyes locked on Luffy. The boy sat cross legged on the deck, a book of all things in his lap. From the crease in his brow, he was growing increasingly frustrated.

“Not it,” Zoro quipped when he caught Nami giving him that look.

She rolled her eyes and pushed off the rail, glaring as she scathed, “Honestly.”

Taking tentative steps, Nami assessed the situation closer, not meaning to provoke whatever was going on in Luffy’s head. The book lay open to the very first page, his face a little too close to the words as he sighed every few seconds. He flipped to the next page, then the next, before gritting his teeth and going back to the first. 

Kneeling at his side, she bumped his shoulder as she settled down. “Luffy?”

“Hmm?” He barely looked up from the page, and Nami wondered if he even registered what she’d said.

“You okay?” When she didn’t get a response, she ducked forward to see what he was reading. “The Two Birds?”

Luffy snapped the book shut so fast Nami flinched, the sudden smile on his face a little bit of whiplash. “Sorry, what?”

“Luffy, what’s wrong?” she asked, concerned. “You’ve been glaring at that storybook all day.”

“Nothing,” he waved her off and tried to hide the book behind him. “Is it time to eat?”-

Nami wasn’t letting him get away from this, not when his smile was a little too bright to be real. Luffy had never been like this, and it was worrying her more than she liked to admit. “Luffy.”

Gaze flickering from each of her eyes, Luffy’s smile slowly but surely lost its enthusiasm, lips curling downward. He brought the book back to his lap, holding it ever so gently, skimming his fingertips over the cover. “It belongs to my lover.”

“Wait.” She blinked. “Lover?”

Nodding, Luffy almost smiled. “It’s their favorite book. I used to have more, but my ship sank. This is the only one I could save.”

The melancholy in how he said it gave Nami a sick kind of feeling, a million different ideas of this stranger’s fate coming to mind. She almost didn’t even ask. “What happened to them?”

“We got separated a few months ago,” he said, before giving the book a firm nod, “but I’ll find them again.”

“How do we do that?” Nami asked instantly, drawing another half smile out of Luffy as he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Well,” Luffy laughed breathily, “it’s a bit complicated. They’re with the marines.”

They weren’t dead, which was good, Nami supposed. But this? This wasn’t what she’d expected. “Your lover is a marine?”

“Unfortunately. I couldn’t save them. But they’re strong.” His grin wavered. He thought of that sinking feeling when you remained on land, staring after him with this look he couldn't get out of his head. You'd looked like this was what you planned; him escaping, and you staying. It had been noble of you, he supposed, and he could never hate you for it.

Luffy swallowed thickly and his eyes went all misty. “They’re the strongest, kindest, truest person I know. I’ll find them, and I’ll return their book.”

Nami still couldn’t figure it out. “If they’re so good, why’re you burning a hole into their book?”

“Oh.” Luffy’s cheeks warmed at the question. “Uhm, I was trying to read it but… I got stuck. They usually read it to me.”

She should have left it at that. Really, Nami should have patted him on the back and offered to get a pre-dinner snack to cheer him up. But for some reason, Nami found herself looking at the storybook and hesitantly saying, “Can I?”

“Really?” The shine in Luffy’s eyes nearly made it worth it. 

Nami sighed and forced a smile. Only, she didn’t have to force it too much; Luffy’s quickly brightening expression warmed her from the inside out. “Sure. Hand it over.”

She’d barely laid a hand on the book when Luffy whipped his head around and shouted across the deck, “Guys! Nami’s reading a story!”

“Luffy…” she groaned, pursing her lips as Usopp jumped down the stairs, swiftly followed by Sanji and a more reluctant Zoro. 

Luffy raised a brow. “What?”

Letting out a huff, Nami simply flipped open the book. Usopp plopped down beside her, leaning in to see what book it was. 

“A story?” Zoro asked, ever unamused. Nami shut him up with one glare. 

“I personally am happy to hear Nami’s lovely voice,” Sanji piped in with a wink.

Nami gave the chef a deadpan, her head tilted. “Thanks.”

“C’mon,” Usopp urged her. “Let's see if it beats the tales of Great Captain Usopp.”

“All right, all right,” she laughed, turning to the very first page and starting to read off the story to them. 

Every once in a while Luffy would start frowning again, eyes unfocused, the words Nami read piercing his heart. It never lasted too long though, some commentary from Usopp dragging a snicker out of him. And when the story came to a close, Luffy offered his crew a grin. 

“Y/N would like you guys,” he said, raising some confusion among the men around him.

Nami tried to smile and, half to explain and half to reassure, said, “We’ll get your lover back, at some point.”

Maybe three seconds went by before all heads jolted in Luffy’s direction. 

“Lover?!”

>>

[writingwithfolklore]

Following a Trail of Clues

                Lots of plots have at least some aspect of figuring out a mystery or uncovering some hidden truth. While it may not be a traditional murder mystery, writing a plot that revolves around the gathering of information and uncovering of clues can be written using a lot of the same techniques.

1. You should probably plan it

If you’re strictly a pantser, give it a shot, but I have never been able to pants mysteries like this. I would recommend planning it from the beginning and saving yourself a lot of time and headaches trying to piece it together later.

2. Start with the beginning and end

When planning a mystery, I start with the beginning, and then skip to the point that they uncover the truth or figure it out and work backwards to fill out the middle. What is the last hint they need to uncover the full truth, then, what leads to that hint, rinse and repeat until we get back to that beginning you created.

                For example, say the MC is trying to find their missing friend. The last point would be ‘they find their friend’, so that’s where we begin. Maybe right before that, they’re told the location, to get their location, they’ve kidnapped one of the bad guys who knows it, to get to him, they need to break into the evil lair, to find the lair, they need to spy on the organization, and so on.

3. Diversify the hints

I talk about this a bit in my post about written elements (here), but essentially, you’ll want to diversify how your characters get their hints. It will seem cheap if they find everything they need to know on conveniently spaced notes or journal entries (unless you can really justify that), or it’s all told to them by someone who happens to know it all (such as the ‘wise man’ trope).

                Maybe they find the last clue written down, but the one before was told to them from a key character, and the one before was puzzled out through a riddle, etc. etc. Here are some places to find clues:

Someone else knows something

This could be either an ally or an enemy. Family members, friends they weren’t aware of, a hidden partner, seemingly a stranger who knows more than they’re letting on. If they are an ally, there should be a reason they haven’t come forward yet, or justification for why their testimony is where it is in a story. Maybe they are somewhat accidentally guilty in the mystery, maybe they are afraid to be involved, maybe they aren’t aware anything has happened at all.

If they’re an enemy, maybe your protagonists need to corner them, best them in a battle, talk to them away from their boss, kidnap them, etc. Consider why this person would betray their ‘side’ to provide a clue to the protagonists.

Journal entries, notes, letters, ledgers, or otherwise written down

Physical evidence—footprints, pieces of clothing left behind, an object, photos, drawings

Biological evidence--fingerprints, DNA, hair, etc. If your character already has access to the equipment for this, great! If not, consider how they could find this out.

A prophetic dream or vision (use in cases in which it would make sense for your character to have this, obviously)

A riddle, poem, or song, if you can justify it.

An educated guess (for small jumps)

Timing—if they can figure out a timeline, they may be able to figure out something else

Something is missing or off place. That’s odd, character always leaves their book on the bedside table, so why isn’t it there?

Any other ways to get hints or clues to your characters?

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Cruel Summer

no rules in breakable heaven

Pairing: Jaime Tartt x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ - smut(f receiving oral, other implied nonsense, cursing

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: clearly I’ve gotten caught up in the babygirl wave, my lovely wife @andr0medafallen helped me immensely and I love her. Also I’m just a slutty little virgin so I can’t be held accountable for any inaccuracies

Conversations are swirling around you, music is blasting from a building down the street, you’re keenly aware of the blood pumping in your veins, and you need a goddamn break.

You loved spending time with Keeley, you really did, but it’s hot and muggy outside, and this is the fifth party you’d been to in the past week. Tonight, at least, is with the Richmond boys, and not some friend of a friend of Keeley’s where all you do is stand in the corner and drink by yourself. Keeley, ever the social butterfly, is off chatting with Rebecca and Leslie, giving you the opportunity to focus on not losing your mind.

It’s strange, to feel so simultaneously alive and asleep, and you could swear you can feel the air buzzing in your ears. You simultaneously want to go to bed and to stay awake for the rest of the night, it’s like your mind can’t figure out what it needs.

And then Jamie’s walking over to you and the world comes back into focus.

The two of you aren’t very close, connected mostly through your separate friendships with Keeley, but from what you’ve heard from her and from the internet, he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Though, there was a part of you that enjoyed his bad boy attitude, even when he was a bit of a dick.

Maybe you just had a thing for men who were emotionally unavailable.

“Want me to walk you home?” Jamie says after a few seconds of standing next to each other in silence, shocking you out of your silent appraisal of your surroundings.

“Huh?” Clearly, your brain-mouth connection is taking a while to get up to speed.

“You seem kinda out of it, I know you came with Keeley, figured I should ask if you wanted to leave.”

The kindness of his offer is a little shocking in the way it’s so purely sweet, and again, your brain seems a little slow on the draw.

“I’m alright, I can call a car in a bit,” you tell him, not wanting to drag him away from a fun night just because he saw you acting all mopey and uncomfortable.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind getting outta here,” and then it’s clear to you that his offer is simply an excuse for him to leave the party, and while your heart drops a little you can’t say you blame him.

“What the hell,” you respond anyway, finishing your drink before you turn to follow Jamie out of the party, stopping by Keeley to let her know you’re headed home.

The walk back to your place is mostly silent, the air hanging heavy and thick as you try to figure Jamie out. It’s clear that he’s changed from the first time you’d met him, back when he was only Keeley’s douchebag of a boyfriend, shortly before his stint on reality TV. Now, though, he seems different in some way that you can’t quite puzzle out.

“Wanna come up?” You offer, your heart and your brain in a heated argument over how awful and irresponsible of a decision that is.

“Nah, I’m alright,” he sticks his hands in his pockets and you try not to let your heart sink onto the ground with this cool-guy routine of his.

Still, you thank him for taking you home and head up to your apartment, flicking off your shoes and berating yourself for acting the way you did. Even though you’re an adult, and wanting to sleep with someone doesn’t make you a bad person, there’s a layer of guilt that hangs over your simple question, over your desires.

Maybe it’s because he’s Keeley’s ex, and even though she’s moved on and found her perfect match, girl code says you shouldn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s because as far as you know, he’s an awful person who would treat you like nothing. Or maybe it’s because he’s actually worked on himself and you’re going to self-sabotage anything good that could even possibly happen.

The guilt you taste at the back of your mouth doesn’t change the fact that you want him, though, so you throw a longing glance out your window and are surprised to see Jamie still standing on the street below. As quick as you can in your old building, you unlatch the window and push it open, sticking your head out.

“Change your mind?” You ask, a grin spreading on your face when Jamie jumps at the sound of your voice.

“That ok?” He throws back, looking a little bashful and so unfairly adorable that he makes you a little dizzy. You just nod in response, and he seems to get the message because he disappears from view and a few seconds later, there’s a knock at your door.

Briefly, you wonder if he ran up the stairs.

There’s a part of your brain that keeps screaming about how this is a bad idea, that come morning you’re going to regret this, but you do your best to ignore it as you close the door behind Jamie and press your lips to his. His hands find your waist, settling there with a firm grasp, and you hope you never need oxygen again.

It’s addicting, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, and you do your best to ignore the alarm bells ringing in your mind that you’re never going to be able to move on from this and instead just enjoy yourself. Moving on autopilot, you find yourself at your bedroom door, and feeling lightheaded you pull away from Jamie and rest your forehead on his.

“Can I?” He breathes against your mouth, fingers grasping the bottom hem of your shirt. You nod enthusiastically, your nose brushing against his. Once your shirt is flung somewhere into the depths of your room, Jamie’s hands settle on your bare ribs.

Pushing every worry you have to the back of your brain, you follow Jamie’s lead and, with his help, pull his shirt over his head as he walks you back towards your bed. Obviously, you’d known he was fit, but seeing him so close, so open to your touch is a whole other feeling. You want to trace his entire body, his scars and bruises and tattoos, first with your hands and then with your mouth.

“This is just a one time thing, yeah?” Jamie asks as your hands settle onto his jaw, trying to bring him in for another kiss.

“Yeah, of course,” you respond, being the cool girl you know you’re meant to be even as you fantasize about hearing the stories behind his tattoos and spending mornings together.

It’s practically impossible for you to keep your hands off of him, every layer removed giving you more of his skin to explore. Jamie, though, seems just as greedy as you are, kissing and touching his way across your body. You feel alive, electric in ways you’ve never felt before. It’s as if every moment you spend with Jamie, he takes up more and more space in your brain, until he’s all you can think about.

Jamie, as he bites that sensitive spot underneath your jaw bone with a grin.

Jamie, as he trails kisses down the center of your body, from your sternum to your belly button.

Jamie, as he moves lower and lower, his hands resting on your inner thighs.

Jamie, he’s all you think about until you can’t think of anything, your mind shut off and your body rewired as you feel like you’re exploding from the inside out.

And then everything comes rushing back in, all the sounds and scents and feelings of your apartment, all the thoughts you’d tried to keep away. You still haven’t said anything, focusing on breathing and not floating away.

“You need water or something?” Jamie asks from his spot on the pillow next to you, watching as your breath continues to heave in and out of your chest.

“This is my place, shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You retort once it feels as if your heart won’t escape your chest.

“There aren’t any rules about who gets water.” You watch as a smirk grows across his face, “Besides, you look like you need it more than me.”

Trying not to give in to his teasing, you hide your face in your hands and groan, “Maybe that means you should have been trying harder.” He shrugs, conceding before he slips off your bed and begins the hunt around for his clothes. You wish you could ask him to stay, even just for a few minutes longer, but instead you shrug on a large t-shirt and walk him to the door.

“See you around,” you offer as you lean in the doorway, Jamie making his way to the stairs.

“Yeah, sure, see ya.” And then you're left all alone again, your brain running wild within your skull, so you make your way back to your bed in the hopes that you can fall asleep and pretend you aren’t regretting all of your life decisions.

The next few times you see Jamie, the two of you talk sparingly, sticking mainly to waves across the room or slightly uncomfortable smiles. And it’s a shame, because you’ve found that you actually enjoy talking to Jamie, but now you’re not so certain you can handle yourself around him.

Even though you know Jamie’s not looking for a relationship, it’s hard not to think about what you’d be like together, if you’d even work out, because in your mind, what’s the point of trying if you know you’re going to fail? Why would you enter into a relationship with someone if you know it couldn’t possibly last?

“Hey,” a voice says from behind, shocking you out of your introspection. You jump, ready to scold whoever snuck up on you when you hear Jamie’s laughter, happy and loose.

“Jesus, Jamie, you scared me to death,” you tell him as his laughter dies down, eyes scanning for anyone watching your interactions. You know that no one cares, that people have casual relationships all the time, but you can’t help but feel like you’d be judged for doing the same.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, and you can tell from his voice, from his eyes, from the way he’s holding himself, what he’s really asking you.

“I thought that was a one time thing?” You hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink and delighting in the way Jamie’s cheeks redden.

“What I meant was, it’s just a no-strings-attached thing.”

“I’m flattered,” you tell him, already turning to leave and planning your text to Keeley that you hadn’t felt well and called an Uber to leave early.

Instead of an Uber, though, you find yourself pressed up against Jamie’s car, his hands holding your waist and his tongue down your throat. As much as you loved the attention, you pulled away, placing a gentle hand on his cheek when he tried to follow.

“Someone could see,” you whisper against him, trying to keep an ear out for anyone else leaving the small party at Colin’s house. This seems to bring Jamie back to his senses, though, because he unlocks his car and slips inside, but only after he kisses you one last time.

The drive to his place is short, leaving the two of you sitting in his driveway, no sounds but the noises filtering in through the cracked windows. There’s something about this, about him, that just feels like summer, like late sleepless nights and days spent in bed.

Even though neither of you have spoken about it, you can tell that whatever relationship you have with Jamie ends with the summer. You know this is for the best, knowing that once training and games pick up again he’ll barely have time for friends, let alone any other kind of relationship, but you hate the feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. It feels like there’s an expiration date, some dark cloud looming over your sunny day, and it’s making it hard to enjoy the time you do have with Jamie.

You’d never say any of this to him, though, because you’re not even sure if you’re really friends, if this relationship you have is anything beyond physical. It’s not as though you sit around pining after Jamie Tartt all day, but you can’t help but feel left out whenever you see him with his actual friends, as if you’re missing something important about him. The two of you have a surface level connection, and you’re fine with that, you really are, it’s just hard not to get caught up in your own head.

Jamie, though, is doing his best to get rid of seemingly every thought you have, leaning over the center console to kiss you again. It’s cramped and a little awkward and you don’t have any room to move around, but you can’t stop. Eventually, the two of you break apart for long enough to stumble into Jamie’s house and then you’re being pushed backwards to his bedroom.

The realization hits you that this is the first time you’ve ever been to Jamie’s house, and you can’t help but look around his bedroom, taking in all of his choices in decorations and knick-knacks.

“That’s a pretty color,” you say absentmindedly, starting off into his room.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Jamie asks, pulling back from where he’d been sucking a mark onto your chest.

You can’t help but laugh, loud and unrestrained, as you run your fingers through the strands of hair hanging in Jamie’s eyes, giving them a gentle tug. Looking down after you catch your breath, you notice Jamie smiling at you and suddenly you feel too exposed, too open and you want to turn and run and never see him again but instead you use your light grip on his hair to pull him up for a kiss.

There’s a strange feeling deep in your stomach, one that you plan to ignore for as long as you can because it’s distracting you from Jamie. At first, you’d just thought it was the want filling your body, the urge to pull him impossibly close and feel him impossibly deep, but the feeling’s still there hours later as you lie boneless and sleepy.

Jamie’s off getting you some water, even though you never asked for any, and when he returns you’re dozing on his pillow, resisting the urge to snuggle under his sheets.

“You can just stay here tonight, if you want,” Jamie offers, sitting on the other side of the bed and staring off into space before quietly adding, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Your bed is pretty comfortable,” you reply, thankful that you don’t have to get up and go searching for your clothes.

Instead, Jamie hands you the glass of water and a t-shirt, one that you gratefully slip on before getting under the covers. You fall asleep almost immediately, exhaustion spread throughout your entire body and mind, so you never know that Jamie lies awake almost the whole night, staring at the ceiling and trying not to wake you up or think about how perfect you look while asleep next to him.

When you do wake up, it’s with the sun streaming through the windows and Jamie’s arm slung over your waist. The two of you are impossibly close, both sharing the same pillow despite the size of his bed. It pains you to notice that he’s incredibly adorable when he’s sleeping. Part of you wants to kiss him all over and wake him, but the other just wants to let him sleep forever, watching as he breathes.

Luckily, you don’t need to make that choice, as Jamie’s eyes flutter open and you can see when he realizes just how close the two of you are and he tries to play it smooth but he scoots back to the side he fell asleep on.

“Did you sleep alright?” He asks, and you’re more focused on the scratchy way his voice sounds than the actual question. You just nod, hoping that was the right answer and delighting when he smiles, all soft and sweet and just for you.

You need to leave, get out while you still can before you end up spending the whole day with Jamie, because you know if you stay for a second longer you’re never going to want to leave him. Most of your time together was spent sleeping, but it's already almost impossibly hard to leave him. While you still have your resolve, you slip out of his insanely comfortable bed and go hunting for your clothes. It kills you a little inside when Jamie doesn’t stop you.

“Want me to drive you?” He asks, sitting up and moving to get out of bed and you need to stop yourself from staring at his toned chest, at the shorts low on his hips.

“No, I can just walk, it’s a nice day,” you lie, having no idea what the weather was like but hoping that summer wouldn’t let you down. Jamie nods, settles back into bed, and you could swear your heart physically aches because none of this should be happening.

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place, but here you are not wanting to leave. You shouldn’t be staring at him, with his mussed hair and his tattoos on full display. You shouldn’t have any feelings for him besides physical attraction and the basic feelings of friendship, but you’re starting to worry about that feeling in your belly that just grows and grows every second you spend with Jamie.

“See you around,” you tell him, leaving as quickly as you can before you convince yourself to stay any longer. You wander around London, all turned around and trying to find your flat without thinking of Jamie, while Jamie sits at home and tries not to think of you.

The rest of your day is spent doing meaningless activities, chores and work you’d been putting off for weeks. You wash your sheets and clean your fridge and respond to emails, trying your hardest to keep your mind off Jamie. It’s impossible, and the second you find yourself distracted, your mind wanders right back to him. What you really need is to leave your house, find someplace with blasting music and bodies pressed impossibly close, somewhere that you’ll have no space to think of anything, let alone Jamie.

Lucky for you, Keeley stays busy, always having one event or another she needs to go to and she always lets you tag along. Tonight your mission is to stop thinking of Jamie, even if that doesn’t mean going home with someone else. Just for a few hours, you don’t need him consuming your every thought.

Unfortunately for you, Jamie is always welcome with Keeley and has the same exact plan as you.

The air inside the bar is stifling, as if there’s no air conditioning and no windows, just the thick summer heat. You notice Jamie almost immediately, though it would be impossible not to with his highlights and his beaming smile, like your own personal sun. As much as you try to fight it, you can’t help but wonder if he noticed you at all, if he thinks of you at all when you’re not together.

You’re two drinks deep and you can’t help but think about Jamie, about what he thinks of you. Are you really just someone to fuck, someone who’s attractive enough for him to sleep with you whenever he feels the urge?

You’re three drinks deep and you can’t help but wonder if you could ever be anything more to him, if he’d ever want that. It’s common knowledge that Jamie’s still a little hooked on Keeley, and who could blame him, but are you really just a distraction?

You’re four drinks deep and you can’t stop crying, the tears flowing like rivers as Keeley and Rebecca try their best to comfort you, to calm you down. Eventually, Rebecca calls you a car and Keeley waits with you, ready to leave and make sure you get home safely.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise,” you say through your sobs as you sit in the backseat on your way to your apartment, Keeley rubbing up and down your arms in a soothing manner.

“This isn’t about Jamie, is it?” She asks in that kind, understanding voice of hers and it only makes you cry harder.

“I think I love him and it fucking sucks.” Keeley’s hand moves to smooth over your hair as you lean against her, all the fight draining out of your body.

“Babe, just tell him.” You can’t help but shoot her a glare, one that she brushes off with a laugh, “What’s the worst that could happen? He won’t sleep with you anymore?”

Your mouth drops open, shocked to your core that Keeley knew about what the two of you had been doing and your heart breaks a little more because you feel like you’ve just betrayed one of your best friends. Keeley, though, gives you a supportive little squeeze, one that tells you that she isn’t mad at all.

That was one of your favorite things about Keeley, how supportive she is of all of the people she loves, no matter the situation. She’s wise beyond her years and is the kind of person who will go out and get whatever she wants through her own hard work and determination. Keeley is absolutely someone you need on your side, and it hits you just how thankful you are for her and all she does for you.

Here you are, sobbing over a boy, and Keeley does nothing but support you and try to help you calm down. She doesn’t look at you like you’re over-dramatic or crazy and instead is doing her best to fix whatever was making you feel this way.

“Clearly, this whole situation-ship is hurting you, and if he doesn’t want the same things as you, maybe it’s time to let it end,” she finishes with another loving squeeze, just as the car pulls up outside of your building.

The two of you slide out of the car, Keeley offering you her hand as she helps you up to your apartment and you’re left reeling by what she’s said. You didn’t even know you wanted something more until it hit you like a ton of bricks tonight, Jamie consuming your thoughts in all the wrong ways. You know Keeley’s right, that whatever you have going on is only going to hurt you in the long run, so you resolve to tell him everything the next time you see him.

Keeley’s wise words from the car and the glass of water she gave you before she left after confirming no less than ten times that you were okay have you sobering up rather quickly. You’re left feeling embarrassed and exhausted to the bone, wanting nothing more than to lay down in your bed and stay there for the next hundred years, but suddenly there’s a knock at your door and Jamie’s standing outside.

“Keeley let me in, hope that’s ok,” he tells you, seeming slightly uncomfortable and you briefly wonder if it’s because of your puffy eyes and slightly disheveled appearance, embarrassment coursing hot through your blood. “Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Jamie always keeps you on your toes, and though you know this isn’t a big deal, it warms your heart all the same. Jamie Tartt, drama queen footballer and prick reality star, is at your front door to see if you’re ok because you left a bar crying. You’d promised yourself that the next time you saw Jamie, you’d sit him down and talk about your feelings, vowing that you wouldn’t hide them anymore.

But here Jamie is, being all sweet and concerned, and that plan goes out the window. There’s just something about him that makes all the sense leave your body, so instead of having a conversation about your feelings you pull him down by his shoulders and kiss him.

It’s messy and desperate, and even though you’ve sobered up since leaving the bar, your head is spinning and your thoughts are starting to become consumed with Jamie. There’s a weight behind it this time, one that you’re sure the both of you are aware of, because Jamie’s hands are gripping your waist with a bruising force and you barely even pull away from him to breathe.

Both of you know something is going to change.

As you make your way to your bedroom, clothing is thrown down the hallway, a sock here and a shoe there, until you almost trip trying to remove your pants. Luckily for you, though, after what seemed like a miles long walk, you finally reached your bedroom door.

Jamie pushes you gently inside, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to breathe the same air, and he keeps pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fall onto it with a sound of surprise. Jamie just smiles, but it’s soft in a way that makes your insides melt and not the cocky smile he has whenever he scores a goal.

You scramble to sit up, to take your shirt off, but your brain shuts off when you see Jamie get on his knees in front of you. More gently than you ever could have imagined, he tugs on the hem of your pants, bringing them down your hips until you need to push off of the bed to get them down the rest of the way. He continues to pull until they slip free of your feet, and by the time he’s standing again you’re throwing yourself upward to kiss him.

There’s just something about him that makes you want to be near him all the time, like a moth to the flame. It doesn’t feel self destructive though, and that’s what scares you. It scares you that you might be hurting yourself without knowing but it scares you more that this might not hurt you at all.

It’s always a little shocking to you just how gentle Jamie is, the soft way he cradles your jaw when he kisses you and the way he runs his hands up and down your back when he can tell everything is starting to get overwhelming. Of course, he can be plenty rough and you have the bite marks on your thighs and the hickeys on your chest to prove it, but it seems like it’s in his nature to be soft with you.

“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, fingers playing gentling with the hem of your shirt.

“100%,” you reply, and give him a quick kiss to reaffirm your statement. Now, he wastes no time in pulling off your shirt and starting to remove his own clothes. It makes you pause, standing there by the foot of your bed in the process of removing your bra, because suddenly he’s shirtless and it never gets any less surprising despite the many times you’ve been in this situation.

It’s not like your being subtle in your ogling, and Jamie just smirks when he sees you staring. He pushes you back onto the bed, softer this time, and you scoot yourself backwards until your head is resting on the pillows. Jamie joins you, pushing your legs open wider so there's room for him to lay in between them.

Then, you’re almost certain you’ve died and gone to heaven because he’s slipping his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them over your hips and down your thighs. You’re absolutely no help, lying there pliant for him to maneuver however he sees fit because you’re fully convinced your brain has stopped working.

It’s a little startling, how well Jamie knows your body. He always knows the right pressure and movement and location to make you see stars, make your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drop open. You’d think that he’d be all bark and no bite, but it’s so clear to you now that he has the skills to back up his attitude.

You have the bite marks to prove it.

Your fingers are itching for something to grab onto, something more substantial than grasping at your bedsheets, so you gently twist Jamie’s hair around your fingers, just enough to ground you, to keep you anchored to your body when you feel like you’re seconds from floating away.

It feels too good, too overwhelming, you’re unable to control any of the sounds that come out of your mouth. Jamie’s hands are gripping, digging into the flesh of your thighs and it stings where his fingernails dig in but it’s so perfect you can’t help the way you whine.

The connection between your brain and your mouth must be severed because you keep babbling away about how good, how perfect everything feels. You’re not thinking at all, only able to focus on the feelings building deep in your belly until Jamie licks at your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you just fucking lose it. Your mouth drops open and you’re completely unaware of the sounds that come pouring out of your mouth until, “I fucking love you.”

It’s like you’ve been doused in a bucket of ice water and Jamie’s pulling away and you’re fucking terrified and the pleasure that’s been building inside your body is completely replaced with dread. After you feel Jamie pulling back, you turn your gaze from the ceiling down to between your legs where Jamie still lies.

He just grins, looking like sin himself with your slick making his mouth all shiny and glossy. And then he gets right back to work, nipping at your inner thigh before doubling down his attention, working twice as hard and you don’t even remember what you’ve said because you’re thrown headfirst back into the intensity of Jamie’s full skill and attention.

It’s only seconds later when you’re almost certain that you’ve died, feeling like an exploding star as your back arches off the bed and you dig your fingers harder into Jamie’s hair and your mouth falls open again. When you regain your sense of existence, your body feels tingly all over as if the remnants of your orgasm are still coursing through your veins.

Breathing hard, you look down to see Jamie resting his head on one of your thighs, just waiting for you to come down from your high. He places a kiss over one of the marks he made on your inner thigh before he crawls up the bed to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

He disappears after that, and you’re a little worried that he’s left you like this before he comes back a few minutes later, with a glass of water and a plate of snacks. The thought of him trifling through your cupboard makes your heart stutter a little and you’re so overwhelmed with feelings that you can only manage to give him a small smile in thanks.

The two of you sit quietly side by side on your bed, eating the snacks Jamie had brought. He checks in on you again and again, making sure you’re totally comfortable. And then, he clears his throat and shifts around, looking uncomfortable and you can feel your heart rising into your throat, dread gripping at your stomach.

“Are we gonna talk about what you said?” He asks, tracing shapes on the bare skin of your knee as he talks and looks anywhere but your face.

“I think I meant it,” you tell him, feeling as if your whole world is crashing down around you. There are other important things in your life, work and friends and family, but there’s something about Jamie that even after the limited time you’ve had together, the thought of losing him makes you sick to your stomach.

“Good, that’s good to know.” He goes quiet for a moment but his fingers never still in their drawing, “I think so too.”

“Good,” you tell him with a smile, one that he returns and it makes you want to cry because he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and you won’t be losing him after all, there’s a hope for you, a future, and that’s all you need.

You know nothing is certain and there are plenty of things that could go wrong, but you try to bask in the afterglow of what’s been confessed the same way you’d lay in the sunshine. You feel warm and happy and you’re determined to hang onto those feelings, to enjoy the time you spend with Jamie instead of worrying that everything will come crashing down.

There’s just something about him, something that makes your worrying come to a pause whenever you’re with him. He brings you an unexpected sort of peace, one that you vow to enjoy now that you’re not worrying when it will disappear, when he’ll disappear. For once, that feeling in your chest isn’t one of anxiety but one that you’re convinced is love.

You love Jamie Tartt, and that thought isn’t as scary as it once was.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @pazvizslasprincess @scaramou @parcelofbread @lightninginab0ttle @curlypeter @maggiecc @percysaidnever

[kuj0goth]

ngl that evil fiddleford au is amazing, i want more of it so much (THOUGH NO PRESSURE). what would happen directly after him getting his memory wiped? like would he be the one to take him home and take care of him or would he try and keep it distanced with a build up to the misery stephen king situation? and what would stan do when he found out?

Hello! Thank you so much for showing interest in my au. It makes me very happy.

Although I’m still working out the kinks of how the story would be put together, I do have some ideas I can share.

I am basing the way Ford acts on the way Stan acted when the same thing happened to him during Weirdmageddon. As such, he has no memory, but his personality is intact, and he has retained his base instincts, muscle memory, and things of the sort. The way I imagine the memory gun to work is that it targets specific cells to kill. Braincells can be regenerated, but as precise as the gun is, there are still side affects to killing off braincells, as you would imagine.

Ford’s head is full of puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together, stairs that don’t lead anywhere, doors that won’t open. Although he does eventually get better, he is unable to take care of himself properly directly after his memory has been wiped, and Fiddleford takes him back to the shack.

The Misery dynamic is established pretty much immediately, but Ford is not capable of realizing it initially. Fiddleford isolates him to keep him safe and to watch over him, and as a result he becomes a little brainwashed. He has no other source of information and everything he knows and believes is influenced by Fiddleford’s word.

My idea is that he eventually has a realization that something is wrong. It needles at his psyche but he cant click the pieces together and it’s frustrating for a guy like Ford who is desperate to know things, especially in a state like that. Fiddleford is slowly mentally devolving and having outbursts so he starts using those to his advantage to gain information and draw some truth out of her.

As for Stan, I’m still working out the kinks, but I imagine he’s doing some detective work around town to figure out where his brother has gone. I’m currently uncertain if I want him to interact with Fiddleford right off the bat, but I have a lot of ideas of how some of their conversations would go.

[ryanmarshallryan]

Experimental Vore Study - another gay vore story by Ryan Marshall

Theo often wondered how or why he had developed his vore fetish. He was happy experiencing it but always thought it would be interesting to better understand what in his brain decided that getting swallowed whole was equal to prime sensual elation.

The perfect opportunity arose when he was referred to join a well paid scientific study relating to understanding the brain patterns of those experiencing sensual arousal in relation to various fetishes. After filling out some forms to verify he’d be a good candidate, and sending some of his self written vore stories for context of his fetish, he was invited to participate officially.

The first time Theo visited the facility for research testing, his experience focused on doing scans of his brain activity and other vitals while talking about his vore fetish, reading vore stories, and viewing photos and drawings depicting vore.

Theo expected to do a bit more of the same thing on his second time visiting, but was surprised when he was called into a new area. An attendant put a couple monitors on his body, but Theo wasn’t really paying attention to what they were doing as he could hear odd sounds coming from nearby. In one direction down a hallway he could hear what sounded like a whip, in another direction there were strange crunching noises. He thought he even heard sensual moaning. Were they having research participants arouse themselves or something?

Theo was so focused, trying to figure out what he was hearing he didn’t notice the head researcher standing in front of him, beaconing him to follow.

They entered a large brightly lit, entirely unfurnished room.

“We’ve been processing all of the tests we’ve run analyzing your brain and are ready to move on to the next phase of testing,” the researcher began, “Theo, I’d like you to meet your results,” he said, shifting his gaze over Theo’s shoulder.

Theo turned around to see an incredibly large and handsome man. The tall man had a wide face and square jawline, framed by his medium-short black hair, and adorned with bushy eye-brows, a stylish goatee and a remarkably large mouth. His shoulders relaxed backward, with his gargantuan gut ballooning out in front of him, looking as though it could fit a yoga ball if stretched out a bit. He had thick thighs, and Theo could tell by the black hairs sticking out between his shirt buttons that the man was also well covered in hair.

“Oh wow, you’re hot,” Theo whispered to himself, then realizing he had been staring at an unfamiliar man’s body for far too long, tried to catch himself, “Sorry, hi - I’m Theo, what is your name?”

Theo reached his hand forward and the man grasped it firmly and pulled Theo in incredibly close, reaching his other hand around Theo’s shoulder and whispering in his ear “I’m your fantasy.” The man smelled amazing too, as though he were wearing Theo’s favorite citrusy body spray.

Theo, though aroused, pushed backward and stumbled a few steps towards the head researcher. He looked back and forth and processed, saying “What do you mean meet my results?”

The researcher gestured towards the big handsome man in front of them and explained “We have developed a method of simulating a person’s sexual fantasies to see it play out in real time.”

“You hired an actor, to seduce me?” Theo looked puzzled from the big man to the researcher.

“I’m not an actor, I’m your sensual desires brought to life,” the man said.

“He’s not a real human, he’s a synthetic recreation imitating one’s behavior and body form, but with unique abilities to stimulate your specific sensual desires,” the researcher continued, as though this made all the sense in the world.

Theo looked again at the big man, “Well whoever you are, what’s your name?”

The big man smiled and pondered for a moment, “Let’s see… as I’ve gone back through your memories and feelings, there are so many names to choose from. Perhaps that gainer you dated a few years back? Or hmm… no what about that vore pred you used to roleplay with online? No… might as well be something generic then…. What about Brian?”

Theo stared at the big man, or Brian, in confusion. Had the researcher hired an actor and shared lots of personal data with him?

Brian, as if reading Theo’s mind continued, “Let me introduce myself beyond just a name. I, Brian, just started existing a couple days ago. I’m loaded with information about your interests and sensual desires, and that helps me better help play out your fantasies in reality. I thought maybe we could start with a feeding session, and then I’ll swallow you down for real.”

“Swallow me down for real? I’m sorry I don’t know if I’m comfortable roleplaying with a random actor I just met, I usually like to roleplay with people who are into vore aswell -” Theo started saying.

“Oh, don’t worry, He is literally created for your pleasure. So eating you is perhaps his only interest right now,” the researcher began, “he’s basically a not-human man-eating garbage disposal, who is only hungry for you.”

“Excuse me” Brian began, somewhat offended, “I am more than just a human garbage disposal… I also have a really cute butt!”

It was true, Brian did have an incredibly aesthetically pleasing butt.

“I can see our boy, Theo, here isn’t believing that I’m really what I say I am, so how about a demonstration,” Brian remarked. As Brian began walking forward, Theo reflexively moved out of the way, not sure if this strange man was about to attempt to eat him. But to Theo’s surprise, Theo was never the intended target.

Brian took the clipboard out of the researcher's hand and tossed it to the side, “You won’t need that where you’re going.” The researcher’s eyes widened as Brian lifted him off his feet and pulled him towards his now gaping maw. Brian didn’t waste any time with the stunned researcher, lubricating the researcher’s face with saliva, and swallowing hard, pulling the researcher’s entire upper body into his throat in mere moments. Theo, as shocked as the researcher, reflexively reached out his arms as if to help the researcher, and then noticed he was getting a bit hard.

Brian swallowed again and again, and the researcher fairly quickly got sucked down his throat. Brian’s shirt buttons were exploding off his shirt one by one and landing across the room. Theo watched as Brian swiftly untied the researcher’s shoes and ripped them off. Theo blinked and the researcher was entirely out of view. Brian’s stomach was indeed massive, that fleshy yoga ball was stretched and taught.

Brian gave a great big belch and turned to Theo, “Now what do you say? I’m still pretty hungry. Maybe you could feed me some snacks from that buffet over there.” Brian turned and gestured behind him. Theo glanced and noticed that the once empty room now had an entire table adorned with steaming hot dinners, drinks that looked remarkably like gainer shakes, chocolates and sweets, and more.

“How did that get there?” Theo exclaimed, “And how did you - ? Is the researcher all right?”

Brian approached Theo and patted his meaty hand on Theo’s back, “I told you, I am equipped to provide anything that will aid to your sexual fantasy, like food for you to feed me.” Brian guided Theo towards the table as Theo processed what just happened.

“You just summoned a table of food out of thin air? And the researcher -” Theo continued, stopping in his tracks to turn and face Brian, placing both hands on either side of Brian’s gut and jiggling it. Brian’s gut, or more likely the researcher, responded with wiggling and muffled noises of confusion.

“Well obviously. I’m hungry. I wanted food. Food appears. There you go - and don’t worry about my old creator, he’ll be fat - I mean fine… he’ll be fine,” Brian explained with a warm smile, interrupted by a belch in Theo’s face that warmed his whole body.

“So you’re magic or something?”

“Magic is only science not yet understood by the masses, is it not?”

There was a moment of silence and awe as Theo stared at Brian, his squirming belly full of another human being, and the table of food.

Brian handed Theo a plate, “I may provide the experience for the ultimate fantasy, mate, but you gotta participate for this to work. C’mon fill ‘er up and get this food in my belly!”

Theo took the plate and turned to the food, continuing to stare in mild confusion. Brian shook him out of his daze, literally by gut checking Theo, bouncing his belly against his side and knocking him off balance for a moment, “C’mon then, or I’ll have to skip the feeding session and eat you right now.”

Theo caught his balance and began piling food onto a plate, mashed potatoes, baked chicken, penne and turkey meatballs, and assorted cheeses. “You can’t eat me! Not - well, I mean it’d be hot for sure - but it’s a fantasy - like what are the mechanics of this, like is the researcher being digested?”

Brian slid his warm hands onto Theo’s side and pushed his belly up into Theo’s back a bit, dropping his voice low to say “Only if you want me too… I know the stories you’ve written…” Brian’s mouth was so close to Theo’s ear now, Theo could feel his hot breath down his neck and shivered, feeling like in a split second he could be gliding down that gullet if he wasn’t careful. “You want me to digest you, don’t you, Theo.”

“I never said that,” Theo turned abruptly, reaching up and pulling slightly on Brian’s goatee for him to open his mouth, and using the other hand to tilt the plate piled with a feast inside. “Start with this before you try to eat me. We’ve got to discuss things first. Sure I’ve written lots of vore stories with digestion… but I’m always around to write another one, so maybe I’m into reformation? I don’t know - but in the real world I’d probably like something safer. You know? Like maybe you should fill up on bread before I go in to neutralize stomach acid and let me out later?”

Brian swallowed the pile of food in his maw, and smiled, “Fill up on bread before you go in? Sounds like you know you’re going in then… how about… I'll fill up on you first!” Brian knocked the plate out of Theo’s hand, grabbed his shirt, rent it open, and leaned forward to give a great long lick with his tongue from Theo’s belly button up to his face.

“Oh my!” Theo exclaimed, shivering again in arousal, as Brian was undoing both of their belts, and pulling their shirts off.

Brian pushed Theo up against the table with his belly, mashing Theo against some warm gravy and mashed potatoes that were now stuck to his back. Theo felt the massive weight of the man pinning him and knew he had to think quick to delay Brian, who had shoved Theo’s face in between his nipples and was scooping mashed potatoes of Theo’s back and eating them and moaning.

“Yurgh knor whergh aia wangh!” Theo shouted.

Brian pulled back abruptly and playfully, “You want me to eat you right now and digest you into belly fat? That’s what I thought I heard - all right, in you go!” Brian said all of this very fast, while putting a hand on the back of Theo’s head and shoving it into his mouth against his tongue.

Putting swiftly lifted a finger into the air in front of Brian’s field of view, and waved it scoldingly at Brian.

“All right, all right, you’ve got my attention,” Brian said reluctantly, folding his arms and resting them with a “hmph” onto his belly shelf, which squirmed, gurgled loudly and kicked at him.

“Okay so you know my favorite vore fantasies then? Well you’re missing two very important factors. You think you’re all that, Mr. Omniscient Vore Genie? You’re not even arousing me correctly,” Theo taunted.

Brian melted into a sarcastic smile, but focused eyes rapt with attention and hears ready for feedback.

“One. I’m more of a fan of one on one, usually romantic vore. Maybe I’m selfish, but I want the whole house to myself if you know what I mean. Plus I don’t think the researcher really wanted to be in there and you know consent is the sexiest.”

Brian sighed knowingly, “All right, I suppose I could let him go… After all, you are the reason for my existence, Theo. I suppose I have a soft spot for you.” Brian poked his belly slowly showing how soft his belly fat was. He waited, intently watching Theo for a reaction.

“Nice pun, but I’mma need you to actually let him go please… before he digests,” Theo stated, seriously.

“Anything to get you in here, Theo,” Brian replied, lifting his fingers up and snapping forcefully into the air. Theo blinked and noticed Brian’s belly almost deflated a bit, and behind Brian, back by the door, the researcher appeared out of thin air on the ground, soaked in saliva and remnants of some of the food Brian had just eaten.

The researcher stood up abruptly, then slipped on some mashed potato. Brian turned around and snapped his fingers again. Just like magic, the door to the room swung open and the researcher was blown out into the hallway like he had been struck by a sudden gust of wind. The door swung closed and locked itself.

Brian turned back to Theo, as his gut rumbled in protest at how suddenly empty it felt. Brian looked back and forth between Theo and his growling belly, “C’mon man, how can you deny such a mournful cry from such a beautiful belly? Don’t you have any empathy for it? All my stomach wants is to knead your soft skin, warm you up in it’s fleshy hot tub, squeeze and embrace your sexy curves, and brutally digest you and melt you into belly fat. Is that so much to ask?”

Theo lifted his eyebrows. “... Yes.”

“Okay…” Brian said with a downward inflection signaling disappointment, strolling over to the table lined with food. He began grabbing handfuls of cheese and crackers and throwing them back into his mouth and swallowing them all whole, “If you’re sure…” He picked up a large casserole dish and proceeded to drop the entirety of it’s contents down his throat without even motioning a swallow. “I guess I’ll just have to fill the void in my stomach with normal, boring food…” He started juggling buttered corn cobs, then one by one tossing them down his gullet, sliding easily into his belly, “Since you’re too afraid to live out your ultimate vore fantasy,” with this final verbal jab at Theo he picked up a comically large spread of pizza, rolled it into a ball and shoved it into his mouth, choked a bit, then pushed it in with his hand. Theo watched the large pizza ball distend Brian’s neck and chest until resting, gurgling and stewing inside Brian’s massive paunch.

Brian turned to Theo, getting close and belched in his face once more, this time leaving his mouth wide open for Theo to see inside. It was impressive not seeing a single piece of food left inside his mouth.

“You still haven’t cracked the code to eating me yet,” Theo said, placing one hand on his hip, and the other, tauntingly prodding the giant’s belly in front of him.

Brian rolled his eyes, then did a funny motion like he was a robot malfunctioning. “Does not compute! Does not compute!” he said in a funny, droning voice. He switched back to normal “Only joking, I’m not a robot… I’m not a human either though. Well you know, actually I suppose you don’t, but ugh come on!” Brian in his frustration picked up a pitcher of gainer shake and chugged the whole thing in one gulp. He picked up a box of melted ice cream and chugged that as well.

“I can’t believe you still haven’t figured it out. What’s my favorite food? What’s my favorite roleplay fantasy?” Theo urged Brian on. Brian looked stumped. His stomach seemed to lurch and groan more than normal, almost as if his stomach knew before he did.

“Oh come on, I only know everything about you, how am I supposed to know what you -” Brian paused and Theo could’ve sworn a literal light bulb seemed to go off in the back of Brian’s throat. “Ice cream.”

“Now you’re getting somewhere.”

“You love ice cream. And you love to imagine a pred covering you in ice cream, warming you with their tongue as they taste you and can’t get enough so they eat you!” Brian fist pumped into the air, lunged forward and pulled Theo into a great embrace and began dancing around the room with him chanting and repeating in a low sing-song voice “Covered in ice cream, I’m gonna eat you, this ain’t a vore dream, you’re nothing but food!”

They tripped over themselves, laughing as Brian fell onto his back and Theo flopped onto his belly and jostled around on top for a few moments.

“Well, I’m not just food, but I appreciate the flirtatious sentiment,” Theo mentioned.

“So you ready?” Brian said, raising his eyebrows in excited hopefulness. Theo smirked and nodded.

Theo was still laying on top of Brian’s belling and smiling at his face, so he was quite surprised when Brian reached his arm out and grabbed a tub of cookie dough ice cream out of no where.

“Where did that come from?” Theo asked in awe.

“Doesn’t matter where it came from, only matters where it’s going. Where you are going,” Brian said licking some ice cream off his fingers, then grabbing a chilly handful and dropping it on Theo’s skin.

Theo rolled off Brian as he shivered with the funny sensation of the cold ice cream on his skin.

“Oh no! Are you cold? Let me fix that for you,” Brian said playfully, licking up ice cream off of Theo’s chest, while simultaneously scooping more ice cream onto all parts of Theo’s body. Theo laughed as he got tickled, and moaned at moments of sensual pleasure. Brian licked all the way down to Theo’s toes, and remarked “You know, this ice cream tastes good, but you taste better.” Brian slipped Theo’s toes in his mouth and sucked them into his throat, moaning to show agreeable taste.

Theo continued to laugh, as Brian worked his way up Theo’s legs moaning and groaning in hunger and approval like he was eating for the first time in a week. As Brian got to Theo’s hard on, he put extra pressure to knead the member with his throat, and squeeze Theo’s balls tightly in his esophagus. Brian reached his hands forward and massaged Theo’s chest and nipples, working his hands down to grab Theo’s hands and slide them into his mouth alongside Theo’s waist.

“What is happening?” Theo remarked in awe and ecstasy as he felt himself reaching climax elation. Theo’s body writhed and relaxed as Brian pulled his entire torso into his maw. Theo felt his feet plunge into a whole stew of partially digested buffet foods, and kicked around, surprised at how roomy everything was inside. Brian jerked his head back a bit to coax Theo’s shoulders past his jaw, then paused for a moment, tasting Theo’s neck and looking one last time into Theo’s eyes. Brian smiled with his eyes and did one final swallow, sending Theo completely into his fleshy dome of dinner soup.

Theo panted and felt around his surroundings, feeling the clammy walls of Brian’s stomach, growling and creaking as it reacted to his touch. He felt a sudden jostle and knew Brian had slapped his gut and was now rubbing and caressing it from the outside. Theo could see a faintly dark outline of Brian’s massive hands rubbing back and forth against the red tinted light faintly emitting through Brian’s many layers of stomach muscle and fat.

Brian jostled his belly, and Theo rolled around inside, getting comfortable and feeling the stomach walls tighten and release around him, like a strange fleshy hug. So this is what vore really felt like. He could feel his skin tingling a little bit, but with all of the other food inside the gut, the stomach acid was quite diluted and he felt fine.

“Brian! So what happens next? Are you gonna snap me out of here before I get digested? Like the researcher guy? Or have you decided to turn me into belly fat?” Theo called from within.

“What do you think? This is your fantasy experience, remember?” Brian replied, giving a great big belch and throwing his arms around his belly and hugging Theo tightly, “I’m made for your fantasy, bud.”

“I’m thinking…”

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃How Seventeen would act around their crush❃

A/N: So... I thought this would be just a fun short prompt and instead, I made it long because why have a word limit when you can let your delulu run wild :')

Scoups/Seunghceol

❀ Coups is a fairly confident person; he knows that people find him attractive and that there is no shortage of people lining up to date him. Yet, when he developed a crush on you, he found himself unable to go and talk to you. Instead, he watches you from afar, trying to assert whether the interest is mutual before making any sort of move. He always tries to be in your vicinity, close enough to catch your eye but not enough to prompt any one-on-one conversations.

❀ He strives to impress you, always taking up the other members in challenges when you are around. Whenever he wins an arm wrestling match, he briefly glances at you, gauging your reaction. He wants you to be impressed by his physical strength. Similarly, when he goes out drinking, and you are present, he makes sure to down every shot and tries to win every drinking game. He will even shyly take shots for you when you lose a game.

❀ To put it differently, when you are around him, his competitiveness will increase tenfold. He wants to impress you, whilst also using these moments to check whether the interest is mutual. 

❀ He absolutely hates it when the other members tease him about it as, to them, it's obvious that he has a crush on you. His eyes continuously follow you around, and he always seems to be smiling to himself when you talk; it is not difficult to figure it out. Still, he needs some time to ascertain whether you reciprocate his feelings. If he gets any indication that it is, it will not take him long to ask you out.

Jeonghan

❀ From the outside, it is rather difficult to determine whether Jeonghan has a crush on someone, as his demeanour doesn’t change. He teases everyone equally, and you are no exception to that. Even if he seems to target you more than others, enjoying your reactions to his antics, it is so subtle that nobody around him seems to catch it.

❀ He is also not one to mention it to his friends or the other members; he doesn't see the point in doing so. Instead, he keeps his feelings private, just for himself, unless he is planning on doing something about them.

❀ However, it becomes slightly apparent in the way that he silently takes care of you. Jeonghan is a very nurturing person who tends to the needs of those around him. Still, he dislikes it when people draw attention to his caring gestures, not wanting to be praised for it.

❀ For some reason, he always seems aware when you need help, ready to offer his in a heartbeat. Little do you know that he is constantly watching you out of the corner of his eye, making sure that you are doing alright.

❀ Regardless of how puzzled his behaviour leaves you, Jeonghan is not one to beat around the bush. He is quick to confess to you that he finds you attractive, seeing no point in leaving it unsaid for long. Despite his mischievous and playful personality, he likes to have these things clear from the get-go. Why would he wait when he could enjoy taking you on fun dates?

Joshua

❀ Joshua is the definition of “Is he into me, or is he just being friendly?” When you met Joshua, you were surprised by his gentle nature. Sure, he likes to play pranks on people, and he does the craziest stuff occasionally, but when it comes down to it, Joshua is a very caring person. So honestly, you might have a difficult time determining whether he is being so unbelievably kind to you because he likes you or because he is a gentleman.

❀ Still, he is not shy, approaching you and striking up conversations whenever he sees you. In fact, ever since he met you, he has been conversing with you. It is almost like the two of you are magnets naturally pulling towards each other, as every time you find yourself in the same room, the two of you end up talking the entire time. When you do, nobody is able to interject, leaving you two in your own shared little world. He is perfectly courteous, and when he gets more comfortable with you, he starts showing his crazy side.

❀ Apart from this gravitational pull, he makes a conscious effort to text you back. Shocking, I know. It might still take him longer than others, but the moment you give him your number, he makes the conscious decision to text you first and respond timely to your replies. The other members think it is incredibly unfair, but he really enjoys talking to you, and this is one way to continue doing so.

❀ He is definitely another member who will not postpone confessing. Rejection, to him, isn't the end of the world; if he wants to date you, but you are not feeling it, why would he not want to be your friend instead? You’re still an awesome person he wanted to spend more time with. It makes asking you out a lot less stressful.

Jun

❀ He is freaking out in the corner of the room as the party rages on around him, dipping the moment he laid eyes on you. Minghao has been encouraging him to talk to you, but that is not happening anytime soon. Jun is incredibly shy, and once he develops a crush on someone, he inexplicably becomes one with the furniture.

❀ It isn’t that he doesn’t want to talk to you, but he doesn’t quite know how to start a conversation and keep it going without making it awkward. He has been running different scenarios in his head, trying to formulate responses that he could use. However, once he sees you laugh, he knows it is hopeless; your smile is so radiant that he can’t help but be reduced to a stuttering mess. So yeah, hiding in a corner seems to be his safest option for now.

❀ If you somehow manage to corner him and actually have a conversation with him, it is not hard to note his discomfort. The only indication that he might be into you is the other members trying to encourage him from afar, giving him thumbs up whenever he utters a word back.

❀ Over text, it is a world of difference; he seems to be more brazen without having to see you face-to-face. He is still nervous on the other side of the phone, but the distance seems to help him with his shyness, and he is able to articulate his thoughts much better.

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Everyone expects Hoshi to be a social butterfly and energetic around new people, but, in reality, he is only loud around his friends. When it comes to strangers, however, he falls incredibly quiet and gets painfully shy, which worsens when he meets you, someone he is attracted to. He knows he can be shameless and say insane things. Hence, he avoids you like the plague.

❀ After a couple of awkward first conversations with you, he begins to feel more comfortable around you, and his wild side starts coming out. It almost gives you whiplash, as in his giddy excitement, his energy multiplies. Even to his own members, he seems to be much wilder, barely able to sit still, when he sees you. It is as if you inject him with straight-up adrenaline and caffeine, having him bounce off the walls.

❀ When he gets drunk, his feelings will be on his sleeve, on display for everyone to see. His members have to keep an eye on him because, in his drunken state, he will accidentally kiss you or end up confessing his feelings. There will be no filter between his brain and his mouth, and he unabashedly will keep telling anyone who will listen that he finds you pretty.

❀ He might, nevertheless, accidentally confess whilst sober. He has no intention of doing it, but unintentionally lets it slip out when he is joking around with you. Regardless of whether or not you have heard him, he will try to play it off as a joke. He is so embarrassed about his unexpected confession; this was not how he wanted it to happen.

Wonwoo

❀ Wonwoo is part of the shy gang, but where Jun and Hoshi are socially awkward, Wonwoo is simply quiet. He's already someone who uses words sparingly by nature, but once he develops a crush on someone, he is unable to get any sentences out. At first, you thought Wonwoo disliked you, finding him aloof around you. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he would merely spare you a glance before quickly moving away.

❀ As time passes, however, you notice that he tends to wear a soft smile around you when he thinks you aren't looking. It is so tiny and subtle that it is easy to miss. Moreover, you've noticed that he gives you special privileges compared to his members. When the two of you are playing games together, he tends to go easy on you, to the chagrin of the other members. He likes seeing you excited over your definitely not-facilitated win.

❀ He also tried his hardest to talk to you despite his shyness, with the rest of the members pushing him to do so. Mingyu fully adopts the role of wingman, easing the conversation between Wonwoo and you to get his friend to open up. He knows his friend is struggling and wants nothing more than to help him out.

❀ Despite how hard his heart is beating in his chest, he will continuously come up to you, trying to start a conversation. Even if he fails and the conversation goes nowhere, he will not be deterred and will try again later. Do not count on him to confess his attraction, though. He will take it to his grave unless you decide to confess to him first.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ Despite being part of the shy gang, Woozi will muster up the courage to come over and talk to you. The conversation isn't life-changing or mind-blowing; there are a lot of awkward pauses and painful silences, but at least he is trying to connect to you.  

❀ The amount of music-related questions he has asked in the past five minutes makes you almost feel like you're having a job interview. It is obvious that producing music is his passion, but you kind of wish that he would talk about something else, even if you find his intensity attractive. Woozi knows that he should probably change the topic, but he feels so overwhelmed by your presence that music is all he can think of. 

❀ He, furthermore, is trying his hardest to show off his manly side. Whether it is constantly crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look imposing, or refusing any requests to act cute, he wants you to think he is handsome, not adorable. It is painfully apparent to the members that he has a massive crush on you, and they can't wait to tease him into oblivion, provoking him by constantly calling him precious. 

❀ He will definitely start waving around his black card more; it isn't because he wants to impress you with his wealth, but because he wants to ensure you have everything you need. If you mention that you want to swing by a convenience store, he will be right by your side, casually handing you his black card. 

DK/Seokmin

❀ Upon seeing you, DK is hopelessly gone; he follows you around with so much excitement, much like a lost puppy. Although he is always friendly and thrilled when it comes to meeting new people, it is easy to tell that he has a crush on you. Maybe, if you're truly in denial, you might feel like he is simply being nice to you, but DK wears his heart on his sleeve, so it is abundantly apparent to everyone around him that he has a crush on you. It is literally coming out of every pore on his body.

❀ His main goal in life has changed into making you laugh. If you haven't laughed at least six times over the span of a ten-minute conversation, he is counting it as a loss. Be prepared for your stomach and laugh muscles to hurt after talking to him; he is upping his antics, pushing aside his shame in order to hear you giggle. 

❀ He will be trying his hardest to flirt with you, but instead of coming off as flirty, it is downright hilarious. His pick-up lines are so incredibly awful that you can't help but laugh at them. You have no idea why he thought that "you're hotter than the bottom of my laptop" or "if you'd be words on a page, you'd be fine print" would work, but hey, at least he got you laughing. 

❀ He might be a bit shy when it comes to actually asking you out directly, but he is so shameless with his flirting, and it is so obvious he is into you that it feels like he has already done so. 

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu is incredibly shameless when it comes to flirting, wasting absolutely no time when it comes to approaching his crush. Sure, he gets very shy when you reciprocate any of his attention, but he will initiate it first. It kind of drives you insane. One moment, he will be leaning over as the two of you are drinking at a bar, seductively whispering into your ear that you look stunning in your dress, and the other, he will be blushing and giggling as if he has never heard a single compliment in his life before. You're not sure whether he is doing it on purpose or whether he truly is that bashful. It doesn't matter, though; it works like a charm. 

❀ The other members better not be around him when he is talking to you. He will casually stretch his arms, showing off his toned arms, or sneakily reach around you, momentarily hugging you, to reach for a coaster that just happened to be on the other side of you. If they saw him, they would not let him live it down; perhaps that is why he gets so shy when you tease him for casually touching you or showing off. He will look for any excuse to briefly touch you, pretending like he doesn't know what he is doing. 

❀ Speaking of teasing, he lives for the moments where you tease him. It effectively makes him momentarily lose his cool; we all know Mingyu secretly enjoys being degraded. The moment you mildly mock him marks the moment he is completely gone for you. 

❀ Mingyu will drag out the flirting phase; he enjoys the chase and the back-and-forth. It isn't that he doesn't want to date you, but he lives for the tension that comes before it, savouring it for as long as he can. 

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao has two vastly different reactions when he is around his crush. He either will act very giddy around you, staring at you as if you hung the moon and the stars, or completely indifferent around you, making you wonder whether you have wronged him at some point. It takes him some time to feel completely comfortable around you, but once he feels at ease, giddy Minghao will come out.

❀ He loves involving you in his activities; expect a ton of invitations for walks, painting sessions or meditations. He makes sure to come up with plenty of excuses for why you should join, most revolving around it being good for you. Truth be told, he simply wants to spend time with you without directly asking you out. He wants to ensure that the two of you connect on a deeper level before confessing his feelings to you.

❀ Conversations with Minghao are so deep. He wants to know your opinion on every philosophical and existential question he has. Honestly, the intense way he listens to you is enough to make you blush; it is as if nothing matters more to him than your words.

❀ Minghao is a firm believer in the "friends first before dating." He will only act on his feelings after he feels like the two of you are somewhat friends.

Seungkwan

❀ Seungkwan hasn't stopped talking to you since the moment he met you. He is another member who wears his heart on his sleeve; he will pour all his energy into socializing with you, making sure that you are comfortable and having a great time. The only times that your conversations turn awkward is when one of his jokes doesn't land; he will beat himself up over it for the rest of eternity, even if you find it incredibly adorable.

❀ Half the contents in his bag are reserved for you; he always brings enough supplements and snacks in order to share them with you. He, additionally, makes sure to pick up coffee for you when he is ordering his usual Iced Americano, ignoring the teasing of his members when he does so. Seungkwan has a very nurturing and caring personality, and it truly shines when he is around you. Know that when he nags you for not going to bed on time, it is because he cares. 

❀ Where Seungkwan is ready to fight with all of his members, he is the definition of soft around you. Even his nagging takes on a softer tone, becoming more of a suggestion than a demand. The other members constantly complain that he is giving you preferential treatment and that he usually isn't this sweet. 

❀ He will confess after a while, being another one who upholds the "first friends before dating" rule. Seungkwan isn't the most confident when it comes to relationships, so it takes him a while to build up the courage to suggest dating. 

Vernon

❀ Vernon is a unique case when it comes to developing a crush on someone; he won't necessarily have it show, yet he will tell all his members that he thinks you are cute. From an outsider's perspective, it is barely noticeable; he isn't a talkative person to begin with and tends to be shy around strangers. Thus, it won't be out of character when his conversations with you are awkward and few and far between. 

❀ It doesn't become clearer whether he likes you once you manage to get his socials. He keeps sending you random memes that might be slightly flirtatious in nature. Most of them, however, are funny, never failing to make you laugh. Vernon, to be honest, is way too scared to talk to you directly, and he feels like using memes instead is a great replacement for words. Once he feels comfortable enough, he will be sending you essay-length messages, and there will be no stopping him. 

❀ Similarly to Minghao, he likes to have deep conversations about topics that he finds important. He values your opinions a lot and wants to hear what you think. Whether it is a serious political issue or a film he recently watched, he will immediately text you a seven-page essay to ask you what you think. 

❀ It takes you ages to figure out that he has a crush on you, and it isn't because Vernon finally decided to confess. No, one of the members accidentally lets it slip; they didn't mean to, but they were getting so frustrated by Vernon's inactions that it came out without thinking. 

Dino/Chan

❀ He thinks he is being super slick with his crush and that no one can tell, but in reality, everyone, including you, is aware that he developed a crush on you. He is trying his hardest to show off, failing miserably at it as he does. Dino wants you to see him as a man, not the youngest member of Seventeen, and he will do his best to come across as mature. The members are torn between making fun of him or helping him out; he is a bit hopeless. 

❀ Truly, Dino having a crush on you is nothing short of adorable. He can be confident about himself and his abilities; he knows that he is handsome and quite witty when he wants to be. Still, he can be a bit shy when talking to strangers, being used to having the older members take charge of those conversations. Hence, it might take him a bit to come up to you and start a conversation, but once he does, he will be as flirty as he dares to be. 

❀ He will be inviting you along for anything and everything. When he wants to go for a hike, his first instinct is to text you to come with him. It isn't a date unless, of course, you suggest it is. He keeps inviting you along on these pseudo-dates, testing out the waters and whether you are interested in potentially going on a real one. 

❀ Please help him out and confess to him first. His members are tired of his endless rants on how beautiful you looked and how incapable he was when it came to telling you that. They might accidentally murder him. 

masterlist

[jo-harrington]

Pwdre Ser (Eddie Munson)

Summary: It's Saturday Night. Eddie has no plans and the trailer all to himself. Of course he's gonna get himself into a sticky situation...

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings/Themes: Eddie implied to be dating/in a relationship with an unspecified partner, Smut, Male Masturbation, Monsterfucking...kind of?, Fantasies, DnD References

Note: Alright, so I've been playing the Stranger Things Puzzle Tales game and relaying all of my silly little fangirl thoughts about the Hellfire Club levels to @fracturedarkness because why wouldn't I? And the way some of these monsters in-campaign are named definitely confirm Eddie is a monsterfucker.

Thanks to @courtingchaos for the middle-of-the-night beta read.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie couldn't help himself.

Well, ok. Rewind for a second.

Eddie was rarely able to help himself when the mood and timing were just right and his cock was just hard enough.

But tonight was a perfect storm.

His date canceled on him, Wayne was out of the house, he'd just read an issue of Batman featuring the true love of his life--one Dr. Pamela Isley--and he got inspired for an upcoming Hellfire Campaign.

"A haunted forest," he'd contemplated as he flipped through his Dungeon Master's Guide and wrote notes down. "No, an infected one." The Guide was carefully set on the table as he flipped through other books that he'd accumulated from library rummage sales and the second hand bookstore he favored in Indy.

He always liked to add some personal elements to the adventures and not go strictly by-the-book.

So from his pencil, an army of new creatures were born.

An old tree that housed a mimic-like creature.

A burrowing worm with hundreds of teeth that he affectionately nicknamed "Mouthy."

A moldy mushroom creature that released hypnotic spores.

And the crowning jewel...the boss...part human...part something else...with vines and a sharp-toothed grin and...

He scratched out a rough shape of the creature in the margins of his notebook and then squinted.

Now Eddie wasn't the best artist, but he could get by. Even to the untrained eye, his boss monster looked a little too much like Poison Ivy than he was comfortable with.

Those nerds would sniff him out immediately.

"Ok," his head tilted to the side, tongue sliding along the seam of his lips as he furiously erased parts of the figure. "Maybe...less boobs."

But the boobs were the best part.

"Boobs that...open up and turn into mouths?" He contemplated and then nodded and scribbled. "Venus flytrap boobs...yeah yeah yeah."

He snorted thinking of this boss seducing one of the players only for them to get their hands bitten off when they'd try to cop a feel. Some Botanical Femme Fatale.

"It'll serve them right," he snorted.

Even though he was sure, if he was in their position, he'd do the same.

"Alright, what else?"

And that was where he worked himself into a predicament.

Time was spent perfecting the Boss' body with all sorts of tentacles and teeth and dips and curves--

Not to mention all the ways that a player might be lured into the temptation of said Boss.

--and before long Eddie was well and truly fucked.

Well, more accurately, he wasn't fucked.

Nor would he be.

Because here he was, 9pm on a Saturday, dateless, with a drawing of a gorgeous, giant, monster woman...and a stiffy that he just couldn't ignore anymore.

"Damn," he sighed and leaned back, eyes clenching shut as he realized just how hard he was and just how much it ached just to sit there.

It was the best case scenario though: he had the trailer to himself, didn’t need to keep quiet or crank one out in the shower. He could take his time and savor the act.

Savor the fruits of his rogue imagination.

And he was at a bit of a standstill thinking about the mechanisms of his boss…what better way to figure out the ins and outs and what made it tick?

Before long he found himself in bed, propped up by pillows, jeans and boxers around his knees—he hadn’t been patient enough to fully undress—as he licked his Ticonderoga-and-big-pink-eraser-tainted palm in the absence of any other lubricant.

“Sometimes,” he hissed and let his eyes fall shut as he finally took his cock in his hand and squeezed. Delicious. “You just gotta go for old faithful.”

He treated himself to a few tentative strokes as he imagined himself in his foe’s forest.

His boots sloughed through the muck, clothes smattered with gore and remnants of spores and tar-like blood. He spotted her in the distance…draped in sheer fabrics that refracted the light like dew-covered cobwebs that stretched across the trees.

“Oh, that’s good,” he nodded and squeezed his shaft. If he got his players to focus on her clothes, her body…they wouldn’t be aware of her intentions.

He trudged across a vine-covered ground, the same vines that kept her tethered helpless to the trees. He called forth to assure that her rescue was imminent, but the more he closed the distance, the harder it got to navigate. Until he came to a halt right in front of her…

“Uh-huh.”

He pumped his fist.

…Against his will…

“Yeah.”

And again.

…As the vines slithered around his ankles and up his legs, locking him in place.

While the hand around his shaft twisted and pumped--fingertips dancing lightly as he circled the head and then back down--he traced pathways up his thigh with the other. He played with variations in pressure, much like the vines would, alive and throbbing.

He considered, in a moment of clarity, if his players would be disturbed by the trap they were lured into.

Perhaps they’d find some concern if the vines reached their waists—he traced up the indent of his hipbone and along his happy trail—or if they would only try to slash their swords through the intruding organisms once they were at their throats—he gripped his own throat tightly for a second.

But his neediness took over once again and his free hand found its way back downward and he cupped his balls instead. Less of an unsettling tightness and more of a pleasurable one.

He made to free the damsel, hilt of his sword gripped masterfully—

He snorted at the joke, amused by himself even as he was jerking off.

—in his hand, ready to slash.

He felt himself close to his release and he immediately let up, not wanting to lose this moment yet--lose the feeling, lose the fantasy.

He let go of himself, cock flopping against his stomach, and he covered his eyes as he took a breath and brought himself back down to earth.

Is this where he would have his players roll for an attack? Or a spell? Roll perception? Would the damsel talk? Stop them from attacking? Would she lure them in that way?

"No physical attacks," he decided. "Only magic to repel the vines. And then she opens her mouth to thank them and her tongue...oh, fuck, her tongue..."

He couldn't get another word out as the images started up again in his head, and he quickly resumed his ministrations.

The boss approached him, motions smooth and unsettling, but her beauty belied the danger. Her mouth opened to offer her thanks...when her tongue slithered out of her mouth unnaturally and she licked along his jaw...

His fingers danced along the path the boss licked, along his jaw, down his neck. The hand around his dick became her hand. Or maybe a second tongue...could she have multiple mouths? Her boobs were already venus flytraps.

That would be a genius move, his boss not just one being, but made up of many in some sort of unholy amalgam. A hive mind, a swarm. Once you were in its clutches, it was too late.

"Perfect," he hissed, fingers trilling back and forth over his sensitive head, spreading precum and spit.

When he was well and truly trapped, she would bite him, paralyze him, render him helpless...

Eddie bit into the part of his free hand between his thumb and pointer finger. He whined and savored the feeling of his breath cascading over his skin, as he stroked harder and harder.

...and then she would feast. Pull flesh from his bones, take his blood, take his soul. Maybe in the feast he would become a part of her, absorbed into the swarm, no longer a man but a part of this thing. Part of this system that sought to consume him all along.

His breathing grew shallow as he chased the high of an orgasm, as his strokes got wild and fast and wickedly erratic. Eddie could hear the slapping of skin and his own breathing and the rush of his blood.

What a strange thing to think about...the pain of being consumed and the pleasure of consuming. Maybe at a certain point the boss monster has its own release--a puff of toxic spores and gunk--and he would feel it too, one with his undoing, one with the forest.

At that thought the pleasure hit him, soared through him, made his legs twitch and toes curl as he kept on stroking and squeezing through his release. His teeth sunk further into the flesh of his one hand as his hot cum coated the other. And his thighs and his belly. As he writhed against the pillows and sheets.

As he writhed against the vines and the moss on the ground, whatever was left of his body, as the vestiges of his mind became a part of the beast.

"Fuck," Eddie groaned as he loosened his jaw, now sore, and stared down at himself. One hand bitten and bruised, the other covered in his spunk.

But he knew he had to act fast as his mental clarity returned to him. With a singular focus, he got up from the bed and hobbled back out to the living room. He couldn't be bothered to fix his clothes or clean himself up otherwise he was gonna lose all of the ideas that had been drummed up in his fantasy.

He picked up his pencil and scribbled next to the sketch of his boss. Note after note after note, as quickly as he could.

Careful not to get any of his cum on anything.

His cum.

He hesitated and considered it. Considered the organic, unpredictable shape it made against his skin. And he was reminded of something else, something similar. White and pearlescent and a little bit otherworldly.

He flipped through the pages of the books he'd abandoned, until he reached it.

Gelatinous substance, amoeba and slime molds...it was perfect.

He narrated aloud as he wrote it down:

"This creature eats its prey and absorbs them, then excretes a euphoric release to continue the infection in the forest. Pwdre ser. The rot of stars."

[azullumi]

summary — cuddling times with you and him.

characters — kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, cuddling, established relationship, not proofread; headcanons

words — 1373

note — trying to get back to writing after like being stressed for the past few days but im fine now but anyways, have this ^^

kaveh

He's a very cuddly man and he always have the time to cuddle, often wanting to keep you close to him even if it's just in those small and simple moments like sleeping together underneath the same sheets—thus he doesn't have any favorite position as long as he gets to feel you so closely against him.

He doesn't mind either being the big spoon or the small spoon, it all just depends on the mood to be honest. If he wishes to be comforted or protected, he'll rather be the one being held and if it's just his normal sappy mood or if he wants to become something like a protective figure to you as you try to sleep, he's going to be the big spoon.

He's so insufferably clingy, always wanting to kiss, hug, and cuddle as much as possible—he wouldn't let another day pass without him not getting to feel your warmth in his arms and being comforted as he dwells in your peace. He just loves the idea of how intimate and affectionate a simple action could be, of how it can bring two different people closer, of how a peaceful and silent moment could be so loud and be filled with love, and he loves it more because he's doing and spending it with you.

If he would be given a chance for the two of you to be one, snuggling and merging one another like puzzle pieces settling on the board and forming an image, he would instantly grab on it but this is the closest he’ll ever get and even if it's only that, he'll take it.

alhaitham

He can and he will cuddle you in any situation despite not asking for it, he just always tries to cuddle as much as he can. 

One moment, you'll be walking around the room while trying to accomplish something then the next he's pulling you towards him and you find yourself in a position where your back is facing him and he's wrapping his arms around you as he tries to fall asleep, having you as some sort of pillow that gives him all the comfort and warmth he needs. You just find yourself often being disturbed or distracted because of how needy he gets.

Taking a break from any activities or tasks like studying or just resting overall will only lead you to on a bed or a couch—or maybe on the floor if you two are fine with the cold and hard feeling of it—and being in each other's cradle, embraced and locked in one another's arms as you silently breath against one another, sharing one's thoughts, and exchanging gentle and tender words.

While snuggled in each other's embrace, he loves to talk and listen to you do so and oftentimes, cuddling times with you ends up in a discussion about any topics that could be strange or weird—yet you still entertain each other—it varies and it's a wonder that you two never seem to run out of ideas inside your head; "Have you ever thought about how a snake would walk if it has legs? Will it have two and walk while standing or will it have four or more? Honestly, how many legs will it even have?"

wanderer

Always chooses to be the big spoon, however, if the roles were to be switched and he’s the one being cradled and held in one’s arms instead, he wouldn’t mind and would, in fact, love it—although he wouldn’t outright admit it. Perhaps he had never told you about how he feels safe in your arms, being comforted by the sense of security you give him as if you’re protecting him from any harm that comes to threaten but you you could tell it from the way he just lets you wrap your arms around him without complaint and cradle him like a small child.

He can get extremely touchy, his hands not settling on a single spot and would often be roaming around your body, trailing your skin, playing with your fingers, drawing shapes on the back of your palm, and everything. He just wishes to feel all of you, every inch of you, and he takes this moment when the two of you are nestled in each other's arms as a chance.

He loves it when he sneaks his hand, especially when it's feeling cold, underneath your shirt and feeling your skin on his palm which catches you off-guard and startles you—seeing your reaction makes him chuckle every time. He wouldn't remove his hand though if you were to say so, only reasoning that he needs to keep both he and his hands warm even if it's not that cold.

He would complain how his arms are feeling sore already but try to even budge and move away and he'll raise an eyebrow at you, asking you what you are trying to do—I mean, he never said or told you to leave.

tighnari

He likes being held, he loves laying his head on your chest or burying his face on the crook where your neck meets your shoulders while you could play and twirl strands of his hair on your finger or while you rub his back and draw circles on it, he especially loves it when you massage his scalp and comb your hand through his hair.

Comfort cuddles are fairly something that would commonly happen between you two. He loves those instances wherein you’re holding him to your chest as you allow him ease himself while you lull him to sleep with the sound of your heartbeat while perhaps as you talk to him in a gentle voice.

He mostly seeks out to hug and cuddle whenever his stress levels are too high and he needs to relax himself so cuddling times often happens either during the afternoon or after his occasionally stressful patrols and duties, oftentimes when the day ends and the two of you have nothing left to do. Honestly, he looks for you when he's being overwhelmed by his feelings, whether jealousy, sadness, joy—it's just that your warmth brings him so much comfort and helps him in grounding himself.

Well, he's not the only one being comforted here, it is also you, even if it's just in a small gesture that he does while drawn close to each other. It could be the way he drags his fingers across your skin or ghosts his touch over you, in a manner that doesn't tickle you but simply in just desiring to touch your skin and feel what's underneath it.

cyno

The two of you mostly spend your time cuddling in silence and sleeping, there's no conversations being held and only rarely will it happen. However, it's not a dreadful silence nor is it an uncomfortable one but it's one of languidness and tranquility.

He doesn't move a lot in his position, only staying in one, and it makes you wonder if his body gets sore or anything because of how still he is while cuddling each other—you can offer to massage his shoulders and if he would allow you, you could feel how stiff his shoulders are and you couldn't tell if it's because of the heavy burden of the responsibilities resting on top of it or if it's how he holds you so much, so close, and so still when he wraps his arms around you.

He can cuddle you for hours and wouldn't easily let you go if you try to leave even if his hold on you isn't not that tight and even when he is also asleep—he has never told you of how he hates that feeling of absence right beside him, on the side of your bed, when he wakes up.

Cuddling, holding, and being up against each other is one thing he looks forward to in each day, he just simply adores the way you feel, the way your chest rises and falls, the feeling of your breath fanning his skin as he holds you against him, listening to he relaxed beating of your heart that gently lulls him. He just adores having you underneath the touch of his fingertips and in between his arms. 

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Happy Anniversary?

Marlene's the first one to bring it up.

Remus is just sitting, trying to do his transfiguration homework in the common room when she pipes up.

"Hey, Remus, isn't your anniversary soon?" That's enough to draw his attention, head snapping up with a confused frown. "Any plans?"

"...anniversary?" He asks. Marlene looks at him like he's just spoken another language, or that he's magically turned into a brick wall.

"Yeah. Are you doing anything for it?"

"I have no clue what you're on about," he says simply, expecting that to be the end of that. However, a knowing smile finds its way onto Marlene's face, and she nods.

"Ah, right. I get it," she says with a wink, only befuddling Remus more.

Still, he doesn't think anyone else is going to bring it up.

As it turns out, everyone seems to think he has some big anniversary coming up. Lily congratulates him, Mary says she "always knew it was going to last forever", even Edgar Bones nudges him and whispers a quick "well done".

Somehow, and Remus has no clue how, he did something noteworthy a year ago. He's also completely unaware as to what. Nobody answers him when he asks, so he simply starts offering a polite smile and moving on with his day. There's some strange misunderstanding happening, and it'll probably blow over soon.

Probably.

It takes reaching the 'anniversary' date to figure out what the fuck is going on.

He's finally gotten some time with Sirius after he's been stuck in back-to-back detentions, walking down to the Black Lake together and just... chatting. It's really nice being able to spend time with Sirius outside of his classes again, even if it sends his stomach spinning and diving. As they talk, they pass Dorcas, who turns and calls to the two of them.

"Happy anniversary, guys!"

She's gone before they can ask any questions, leaving Remus with the same confused feeling as before. He opens his mouth to explain the situation to Sirius, only for Sirius to beat him to it.

"That's been happening all week," he says, puzzled, which stops Remus in his tracks.

"It has?"

He isn't walking anymore, and Sirius stops with him, elaborating with a frown.

"Yeah. Everyone's been going on and on about some anniversary. I don't know what-"

"They've been doing it to me too," Remus interjects quickly, almost under his breath. Sirius catches it though, eyes widening as he reaches the same conclusion as Remus has at the same bloody time.

It's them.

It's all about them.

All of the knowing glances, the congratulations, even the weird fucking winks. They all think Remus and Sirius are dating. Not only that, but they've thought that for a year? The thought sends too many emotions running through him. Shock, confusion and, oddly enough, bitterness. He's fallen asleep every night for months with Sirius on his mind. The thought of kissing him, being with him, belonging to him. He's spent too long biting back his confessions, the very obvious and frustrating fact that he's in love with Sirius Black, because he doesn't want to destroy their friendship, and his friends have just swooped in and made things so much more difficult!

"It's our fucking anniversary, isn't it?" Sirius says quietly, before glancing behind him. "Hold on," he says to Remus, turning right back around and going in the same direction Dorcas has just gone. He seems to involuntarily grab Remus' hand, Remus having no choice but to follow him helplessly.

They get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Remus is a little pissed that everyone's weird obsession with their imaginary anniversary is interrupting the picnic they had planned.

"Guys." The two of them stop on front of the group, Sirius doing the talking, thank fuck. To be perfectly honest, Remus feels pretty speechless. "D'you lot think Remus and I are dating?"

"Yeah?" James says simply, wrinkling his nose like it's just a fact of life. "Everyone knows you're together."

"...we're not," Sirius says slowly, carefully, sending the group lapsing into silence, exchanging confused glances.

"Okay, that's doesn't make any sense," Lily says, everybody else nodding in agreement. "You're literally together all the time."

"Because we're friends," Sirius explains, and Remus really isn't sure what to say. Good thing he doesn't have to, because the back and forth doesn't stop.

"If Remus is in the hospital wing, you're there until Madame Pomfrey kicks you out," James offers.

"I care about him!" Sirius argues, but something about what James has said has hit him in a strange way, Remus hears the shift in his tone, feels the slight tightening of his grip on Remus' hand.

"You're holding hands right now," Mary says pointedly, and Sirius looks down at their connected hands like he had forgotten it had happened. Still, he has a reason for that one too.

"I hold everyone's hand."

He really doesn't want people to think he's dating Remus, does he?

"Not that much," Peter mumbles under his breath, and Remus almost wants to laugh.

"Sorry, does nobody find it strange that we've never kissed, then?" James shrugs.

"Not really. Figured you didn't like PDA."

"Okay, then... we've never called each other boyfriends, never been on a date-"

"Right, that one's just not true," Marlene says with a snort. Remus frowns, confused. Have they been on a date? Surely he'd know, right? "You go to Hogsmeade together all the time, you run off to 'study' every chance you get, and you're picnicking today."

"We're friends? Friends spend time together," Sirius says quickly, and Remus is really starting to struggle. He doesn't want to stand there while Sirius explains how ridiculous the concept of them dating is.

Instead of putting a stop to the conversation, Remus takes the coward's way out. He pulls his hand free from Sirius', turns, and walks away.

"Moony, wait-"

Remus pointedly ignores Sirius' call to him, aiming to get to the dorm and just wallow in self-pity for fifteen minutes. That way, he can act like he's fine and just go to the bloody picnic.

His hip, however, has other plans.

It twinges right as he reaches the stairs, forcing him to a halt with a sharp inhale. His hand involuntarily goes to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get some of the weight off it. Unfortunately for him, it means Sirius catches up too quickly. To be honest, he hadn't even realised that Sirius was following him, but he arrives at his side in a matter of seconds.

"Moony, are you alright?" Remus lets his eyes sink shut for half a second, frustrated. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise they were upsetting you that much."

"It's not- it's just- it's nothing, I'm fine," Remus settles on, offering Sirius a tired smile.

"Moons, s'fine. I know how stupid you think it is." Sirius takes another step forward, acting as though he hasn't just confused the fuck out of Remus.

"What d'you mean? That's not why..." he trails off, not sure how to verbalise any of his thoughts without telling Sirius everything. Sirius fills it in for him, though.

"It's okay, really. You don't have to spare my feelings, or anything. I know you don't feel the same way," Sirius says with a shrug, sending Remus' mind reeling in a matter of seconds.

The same way.

The same fucking way?

Just like that, Remus is malfunctioning. Firstly, when the Hell did Sirius start liking him back? He's spent months having to reel in his own emotions, spending time with Sirius and accepting the sad reality that he's never going to be with him in a romantic way. Finally, just finally, he's started to come to terms with his own unrequited emotions, accept and embrace his friendship with Sirius, and they're not even bloody unrequited?

Also, when did they talk about it? How has Sirius come to the conclusion that Remus doesn't like him? Christ, Remus is fucking in love with him!

That's enough to spur Remus to talk.

"What?"

Okay, maybe he can't form full sentences right now, but he'll get there. Hopefully. Sirius just scrunches his nose up, confused.

"Moony, I get it, it's honestly okay. You don't like me, and didn't want to hear them all jumping to conclusions," He explains, and it only throws Remus more.

"No, that's not it," Remus says quickly, stunned that any words are coming out, even if they're pretty unhelpful words.

All he can do is look at Sirius. Beautiful, amazing, kind Sirius, who crushed his own feelings because he thought they were upsetting Remus. Merlin, he can't take it anymore. Clearly words aren't working for him right now, he has to try something else. Something that will express every single emotion that he has bottled up since he first went tripping and falling head over heels for his best friend.

His solution? Kiss the prat before he has a chance to second guess himself.

With that, he reaches out, grabs Sirius' jacket with one hand, pulls him in, and kisses him. At first, Sirius freezes, stunned, and Remus has an awful panic that he's gotten everything all wrong. Luckily for him, Sirius finally registers that Remus is kissing him and kisses him back.

It's...

Christ, it's everything Remus has ever imagined and more. It's like time stops as Remus' stomach swirls. Sirius' lips are soft against his, and his kiss is explorative, fucking mind blowing. He wraps his arms around Sirius' waist, feeling Sirius lean into the touch as he reaches out and cups Remus' cheek.

After what could be an hour, a few minutes, even a few seconds, just definitely not enough time, they both break away. Unfortunately, breathing exists, and Remus kind of needs to remember how to do that. Almost in unison, their foreheads press together, and Remus can feel a smile making its way onto his face.

"Well," Sirius starts, amused, "I guess this is our anniversary, then."

[juunobox]

──★ ˙ ̟ helping nikolai put on his corset (nikolai gogol x gn! reader)

summary: he seems to struggle with tying a ribbon for the corset he's wearing and asks your help for it, he may or may not be actually struggling, though... warnings: mildly suggestive i suppose...? note: pretty short. i've been hit with writer's block due to being very busy irl as well i think, so this is just a sort of warm up >.>

Nikolai's frustrated groan echoed from the other side of the room, clearly exaggerated. He had been at it for a while—what exactly was he doing? Trying to properly wear a corset, the tied-up kind. For reasons known only to him, he decided to don a corset one day, injecting a change into his usual attire.

There was no special occasion; he simply had decided to spice up his usual outfit- which is an idea you're never opposed to. Of course, how could you? The idea of something tight accentuating the jester's toned physique was a sight you wouldn't want to miss.

Amid his effort to tie the corset properly, his exaggerated complaints reached a crescendo. "Ugh! This is so hard, [y/n]!" Nikolai complained, louder and needier than ever. His frustration appeared more like a theatrical performance than a genuine struggle. You suspected he could easily manage tying the corset ribbon, even at the back, thanks to the freedom of movement his ability provided.

So, it's beyond clear that he just wanted to playfully poke fun at you.

"Doveeeee!" he whined again, drawing out the syllable. This time, it finally prompted you to stand up from your seat and enter the bedroom where he was "struggling" with the corset.

"What is it, Kolya?" you asked with a small sigh, yet amused.

"I can't tie it right. Help me," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face whilst tugging at the ribbon as if beckoning you to come closer.

"But you're almost done," you remarked, your eyes drawn to his waist now accentuated by the black and white corset. You find it challenging to avert your gaze, lingering a moment longer than you'd care to confess. The corset accentuates his figure perfectly, with its well-fitted monochrome stripes hugging his torso. Your heart flutters with excitement at the way it snugly embraces him. The temptation to feel it beneath your fingertips almost overpowers you. You resist, reminding yourself, "All ribbons are tied... what else do you need?"

He giggled. "Hehehe! Yes, that's why now I need you to help me with this last bit. I can't tie a pretty ribbon," Nikolai voiced, directing your hands to firmly clasp his waist. An eyebrow arched in curiosity as he led your hands to his sides rather than the untied ribbon. When you attempted to withdraw your hands, Nikolai's grip only strengthened, ensuring not a single finger left his vicinity. You raised your chin to meet Nikolai's heterochromatic eyes, a slightly puzzled expression on your face as you encountered his smug grin.

"This..." you began, cheeks warming up as Nikolai leaned closer to your ear. "This is not where the ribbon is, Kolya," you stated, only eliciting an even more pronounced grin from Nikolai. His gloved hands secured your arms firmly, orchestrating their movements up and down his sides, a gentle caress accompanying each guided motion. Now, the earlier desire to feel his accentuated curves on your fingertips had become a reality. You revel in the growing excitement of this exchange, especially with him orchestrating every motion of your hands across his body like a puppet master. It's as if he possesses an innate knowledge of the precise areas on his body that you yearn to caress and explore...

"I'm aware, my prettiest dove. Very much so," he cooed, taking on a slightly deeper, yet still playful tone. "I've just been missing your touch," Nikolai deftly guided your hand to lightly squeeze his side waist, causing your eyes to widen at the unexpected gesture. At your flustered reaction, he only grinned and whispered, "And this is also something you've been wanting to do, right?"

An awkward silence momentarily enveloped both of you. "You beat me to it, Kolya," you admitted, confessing to the desires you'd harbored. Yes, being close to him like this was something you longed for.

He lingered in that close proximity a little longer before a faint giggle rolled off his lips. Finally releasing your hands, he twirled away with a toothy smile. "Well, too bad, you have to earn it! That was just a little taste of what you can get~ Hahaha!" The jester's continued to move afterwards, becoming a challenge for you to try and tie the ribbon securely.

"Come on, Nikolai, let's ensure this ribbon is tied properly!" you said, attempting to maintain composure despite the smile on your lips. Unfazed by your words, Nikolai continued- making you chuckle at his antics, well aware that his aim was to coax you into more physical contact. After a minute or so, the silver-haired clown finally relented, giving you the chance to actually adjust the corset ribbon while Nikolai held himself still, his gaze fixed on you with a wide smile.

"Okay, perfect now!" You finally announced with a hint of triumph as the ribbon was finally tied, acknowledging that his antics had made it a bit challenging for you. He straightened himself up dramatically, offering a mock princely bow. "Thank you. As expected of my dear assistant," he said, causing both of you to burst into giggles. Before you could move away, you suddenly feel his hand gripping your waist.

"Now hold on tight! We're going somewhere for the night. Can't let your effort in helping me put on this pretty corset go to waste!" Meeting his gaze upon hearing the sudden invitation, you asked, "Where are we off to, Kolya?" Nikolai flashed a mischievous grin. "That will be tonight's quiz! Hehehe—where am I taking you? Well, only one way to find out! Hold on tight, promise you it'll be a night to remember~" He holds you close to him, and in the blink of an eye, covered you both with his overcoat.