#like he'd like just a few people but would have trouble connecting to them

[thebigoblin]

as the sun rises

i've been working on this on & off for a couple weeks, and it's now complete! posting this here first, and will post it on ao3 this week!

He's just about to kiss Derek when he's pulled out of his sleep, his traitorous phone vibrating on his nightstand with a text message.

Who could be texting him? It's too early for socializing, and his brain is tired! But since he's not just a college student but also a human who runs with a wolf pack and is liable to delay rescue missions if he's not on his feet all the time — he's literally one-half of a two people operation in this pack who hold strategic braincells — he groans and opens his eyes.

His room is dark, but the curtains are blowing against a soft breeze, and slants of sunlight fall into place across his room. It's morning, then. Too early to really call it morning, but morning nonetheless.

Who would even text him right now? His pack cannot get in trouble this early in the day, can they?

Actually, they can, and they have in the past — he grabs his phone and opens it up to the text messages.

It's a message from Derek.

That says just one thing: Morning.

Stiles blinks at it. Tries to figure out if it is a secret code message or something. Scrolls back up further in their text thread, realizes Derek had an early night yesterday so of course he'd be awake early today, at 6 in the morning, and like all the mornings this past week he's sent Stiles a message.

Morning.

Normally, he does it at reasonable hours, like 8. Which is Derek's usual wake-up time, given his usually scheduled afternoon shifts at the BHPD. Like it's the very first thing he does, eyes still blurry from sleep.

It's a sweet, delusional thought borne of Stiles' own desperate greed for Derek's attention, and it chokes him as much as it pleases him.

And there goes his sleep, running away like a headless chicken, at his predicament of being in love with someone he can not have.

Derek Hale is a legend from the myths, a werewolf amongst humans; he's honor and pride intertwined with a gut of trust he's sharpened over the years, the mistakes of his youth lending him a jaded perspective on his once easily-given faith. He is a man turned ashen with tragedy, turned once again into technicolor as years have climbed up.

Stiles was there, at the intolerable stage of it. When Derek was barely a man, a kid alone in the world, hurting and grieving, persistently angry, and with no vision. And he's been there since, once a spectator turned into pages in Derek's book. He's seen him become the man he is now, their relationship blooming under the throes of violence, of almost-dead-but-not-yet celebrations, of the pack letting Derek down and Derek learning to be better for it, instead of sulking and lashing out.

He has watched Derek become who he is now, and he has fallen in love with a man who is one of the strongest people he knows, and it's devastating because why would someone like that love Stiles? There's so much that Derek deserves, so much of which Stiles can not give. He deserves all the good things, and Stiles isn't something like that, is he?

The morning goes on like this: him in the bed, under the covers, the wind blowing inside his room a gentle contrast to his harsh thoughts. He is a year into college now, he's dated a few guys and girls, felt attraction but no connection to them before he realized what's wrong with him — he couldn't connect with anyone because he's already given his heart away, and he knows this is it for him. He's gone and done for, the kind of once-in-a-lifetime love they try to sell in movies and shows and books his claim now, except for the part where he gets the guy and the life of his dreams.

Maybe, just maybe, in a couple of years, he would have moved on. But today, all he can hear in his room is the sound of his heart breaking, his breath hitching, all because of a simple text and his sadist brain.

He hurts in a way he never has. He knows grief — he's lost his mom and that hurt, too, and still does. There's a piece missing in him, a part of him forever buried with his mom, and he's learned to live without it. And this hurts too, the clarity of never having Derek, in a way that is different but somehow similar. He's grieving for something he never had, a future he dreams of but knows can never be his reality.

He allows himself to fall apart today.

*

It's the Christmas break, the weather outside slowly getting more chilly than it was when he woke up. He burrows under the covers, the wind pecking his skin, his limbs too heavy from exhaustion of having cried his hours away to get up and close the window.

He should have closed the window, really.

He's fully under the covers, tear-streaks dried on his cheeks, sticky and a tangible reminder of his woes. Still, he hears it when there's a sudden thump, of a familiar pair of boots landing on his floorboards, and a decisive click of his window being shut close.

"You'll catch a cold."

Of course he's here. Stiles doesn't want him here, not right now, not when —

"Stiles... are you okay? The room smells like you just cried."

If it was any other day, any other reason, he would have appreciated it. They have a no-bullshit relationship. It's honest and grueling, but ultimately, it works for them. Stiles knows Derek trusts him, and that is more than he ever expected to receive from him, of all people.

But he has Derek's trust, and he knows he can not have more. So, he can not lose this, too.

"G'way," he mumbles, "Please."

Time stretches, his request hanging in the air. Then, the bed near his legs dips down, Derek's warm hand finding Stiles' hand, the one outside the covers, and holding it gently. Derek's fingers wrap around his wrist, and the chill melts away.

"I was worried about you," Derek confesses, voice soft. "It's nearly nine, and you hadn't texted me back, and now you're like this. What's wrong?"

Not even a year ago, Derek would have left long as soon as something like this happened, too raw for conversations like this, too naive to navigate a healthy dialogue between friends.

That's what they are, right?

Stiles pulls his covers down until his face is visible to Derek, something which prompts Derek's hand to move to his face, give a soft caress. He truly is worried, eyebrows furrowed and everything.

"Just a bad morning, I guess," he says, and it's almost the truth.

Except. Except, Derek knows Stiles' truth and lies, and not just by his heartbeat.

"If I can help, whatever it is, I will. Just tell me." He's so earnest too, for fuck's sake.

He's a great friend, truly.

Stiles smiles, small and ironic. "You can, and you can't." Derek gives him a confused look. Stiles shrugs, the best he can while lying down on the bed. "Trust me."

"I do, Stiles. Don't you?"

Stiles is angry now. It comes as a surprise to him — a hot, white flash of anger, zipping through him like lightning.

He sits up on the bed so abruptly everything falls — the covers, his phone, him. Derek stops him from falling on his ass, though, arms around his waist.

Even before he's in no danger of hurting himself he's saying heatedly, "Don't fucking pull that card on me. You know I trust you, so much it's impossible to put into words. If you asked me to drive a dagger in my heart I would, I would trust you to keep me safe. So don't even, Derek Hale!"

"I'd rather take the dagger in my heart, Stiles." Derek's eyes are hard, alpha red creeping into them. "Tell me what's wrong." His jaw works, as if he's finding the right words, and Stiles' anger goes away as fast as it came — he slumps in Derek's arm, his weight on the man beside him. Finally, Derek says, "Is this... If Andrew did something, I'll slash his tires."

He isn't expecting this. The hell?

Andrew was the last person he went on a date with, almost two months ago. It didn't work out between them, it never does between Stiles and people, and this was more of the same. But the thing is, he didn't tell Derek about Andrew. It was their first and last date, and the only one he had told about it was...

Lydia.

Derek continues, oblivious to Stiles' confusion. "Ever since you came back to town you've been distant, and if it's because of something your boyfriend did —"

"Woah, what the fuck?" Stiles' voice rises, this time the heat replaced with a level of perplexed he hasn't felt since ages. "He's not my boyfriend, he's not my anything. We went on one date, like weeks ago. What's Lydia been telling you?"

A warmth blooms inside his chest at Derek being so protective of and vindictive for him, but he forces himself to not be affected by it right now. He can loathe Derek's instincts as an alpha when he's alone again.

Derek, for his part, parts his mouth in surpise. "Have I been stupid this entire time?" he says, more to himself than Stiles. "Then what's wrong with you?"

And now they're back at the problem asking for the problem.

Stiles sighs. "Listen. I'm happy you're such a good friend, but some things just aren't meant to be shared, okay?"

"You tell me everything." Stiles scoffs. "Stiles."

They both look out the window, where birds are flying, free from the complex human emotions. The sun is high in the sky, real morning now beginning.

"Why do you keep texting me anyways?"

Derek's eyebrows are raised when Stiles turns to look at him. They're seated with barely an inch between their bodies, and the turn of his neck has them almost sharing the same breath.

Stiles licks his lips, and he must imagine Derek's eyes tracking the movement.

"I can't ask you what's bothering you, and now I can't text you either?"

"Not what I— the morning texts, I meant. Of course you can text me, but the morning texts are new and I'm just... asking. And why can't you text me good morning? Why is it just a morning?"

Derek stares at him. Stiles knows he's thinking something, debating whether to share whatever is going through his head, or not.

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "No, Derek. I do not."

Derek takes a deep breath, as if he's bracing himself for something huge, something he has high hopes for, something he can not bear to lose but he has no idea if he gets to keep it.

Stiles suddenly has a feeling, and if that is true, he's going to murder himself just to relive the pain one last time, because if what he's thinking is true, then he's stupid as fuck and he deserves it.

"I text you morning and not a good morning because the mornings aren't good."

"Okay... why aren't they? Good, I mean."

Derek is looking into his eyes, a vulnerability in them that Stiles has seen before, but still it feels like he's seeing it for the first time. Like this is a part of Derek he hasn't seen previously, a part that has been kept hidden purposefully finally brought to light.

Derek moves, and the miniscule distance between them is gone, eaten up by the anticipation building in the room.

Derek's hands come up to caress Stiles' face, thumb rubbing circles at the dried tear-tracks, the motion comforting. He says, "Every morning, I wake up in my bed, alone, and it's such a shitty way to start my day. Every morning is just another day, and all I can think is, the mornings would be good, really good, if you were in my bed with me, too."

Stiles swallows hard against the lump forming in his throat. "You're joking."

"Never, not with us. Not about this."

Stiles' breath hitches. Derek comes closer, rests their forehead together. Stiles closes his eyes against the closeness, the dread that this is a dream.

"You're too important to me for me to make a joke out of this, Stiles."

He's crying again. "But I don't deserve you."

Suddenly, the warmth of Derek is gone.

When Stiles opens his eyes, Derek is pacing, a glower on his face.

"Isaac can't be right, can he?" Stiles makes a confused noise. Derek rounds on him, then decides sitting down on his knees is a better option. Stiles' morning is so confusing, he starts counting Derek's fingers as well as his own when Derek holds both his hands, rests their limbs on Stiles' thighs.

There's twenty fingers. Ten his, ten of Derek's.

"Stiles. Why don't you deserve me?"

He does his best to not cry. "You're... amazing, Derek. I. I'm just me, you know?"

It seems silly to say it. It's one thing to believe it, another to put it into words.

Derek squeezss his hands. "I've loved you for a long time, longer than I have realized it."

"What?"

"And I felt the same. You're you, and I'm just me. You deserve better."

"You are the best thing that can happen to anyone!"

Derek chuckles at Stiles' vehemence, squeezes his hands once again. "Pot's calling the kettle black. I felt the same, you know," he repeats. "That you deserve better. So I never told you. And you started dating others. But then..."

"Isaac. What has he told you?" He doesn't know what he could have told Derek. It's not like Stiles and Isaac are close, but there are things their pack does, like meddle in each other's affairs, that has him realizing how troublesome their pack is.

It's not like Stiles has even a single subtle bone in his body.

Derek smiles. "He told me that he's got a bet going for us to get together before the New Year." Stiles isn't surprised, not really. He smiles back. "Yeah, the pups have a bet going, and Lydia and Isaac seem to be on the same page."

"Jesus. Her too? What did you say?"

"The whole pack is in on it. I was surprised they would do such a thing. They can't force two people together when one of them isn't into the other one." He moves forward, until their foreheads are touching once again, and this time, Stiles takes one of his hands and presses it to Derek's head, cards his fingers through the soft hair.

"Then what happened?" He prompts.

"Isaac laughed in my face when I told him I was disappointed because I didn't think he and others would stoop so low. And then he told me I might be an alpha but that I'm stupid if I haven't been able to figure out that you like me back."

Stiles laughs, rather nervously. "I always worried you'd figure it out and we'd not be close anymore."

"I did figure it out, actually."

"WHAT?" He shouts it in Derek's ear, who winces and pulls back. "Sorry, but why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

Derek stays on his knees, but he inches a bit backwards, creating a safe distance between Stiles' mouth and his ears. "I didn't want to lose you."

"How could you lose me when you liked me and realized that I liked you back? That doesn't even make sense." Derek gives him a look. Stiles rolls his eyes. "See, I didn't say anything because I've always believed you deserve nice things, and I've mutually never believed I'm a nice thing. But if you told me you liked me... I would have been selfish."

Derek's expression turns soft. "You're the best thing to happen to me, even as just friends." Stiles' cheeks heat at the proclamation, and he ducks his head. When he looks back up, Derek is smiling back at him. "I've wanted you to be mine for a long time. And when I say mine, I mean it. For life. Building a future together and all the good and bad that follows. But all I could figure out... at least what I thought I figured out... was that you liked me casually."

Stiles gets up from the end of the bed and pulls Derek up by offering him a hand, which he takes with a full-tilt smile, bunny teeth and all. "No part of me is casual for you. I never believed I could feel like this, but if anything, everything I feel for you is cosmic."

Derek's smile grows until it's a full-on grin, and Stiles feels the width of it, the rush of Derek's blood, the pure joy of their stupidity taking second place to communication in the kiss Derek pulls him into — Derek's arms wrap around his waist, his own around Derek's shoulders, sliding up and down, on his stubble, his cheeks, his hair. The kiss itself is sweet and hot, their mutual joy imprinting itself in the endless journey of time with their noises of appreciation.

They kiss and kiss, tongues touching and lips bitten raw, until the necessity of oxygen forces them apart. As soon as they break apart Derek moves on to his neck, the press of his lips electric, and Stiles is the happiest man on Earth.

Well. Except for Derek, of course.

"Good morning, Derek."

Derek growls and bites down, intent on marking. "The best morning," he agrees, and Stiles can only moan, feel the pain of being claimed, and revel in the moment.

He still has thoughts of being unworthy in the back of his mind, but what he told Derek was true: if Derek wants him, he'll be his. He'll be selfish.

He'll love Derek Hale as long as he breathes.

Once the hickey is painted on Stiles' neck, Derek tips his jaw, their eyes locking onto each other. He says, "I love you so fucking much, baby."

Stiles smiles. Derek seems to be on the same page as him, and it's starting to feel like Stiles will be a part of Derek's book for a long, long time.

Maybe, just maybe, till even the last page of the book.

It truly is a good morning.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fics #sh.writesonmain #inspired by a post i saw on insta

[plush-rabbit]

Foggy Minds

Word Count: 4.7K A/N: I dont know his body!! So I tried to leave it ambiguous and yeah!! i also wrote this just for the ending bit

-

It’s a fucking joke. A cruel one. Angels- or at least Exterminators- are known for their cruelty. Raining down from above, a storm cloud that leaves red behind. Even after the destruction and death, the guts and gore that leave a lasting stench, the cruelty isn’t done. The angel Adam still has to bring torment down to Hell.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing is what he is. He can pretend he’s higher than the sinners down below, but he’s just as crude, if not more so than the worst of them here. It’s a tradition at this point for both you and him. He brings hell on hell, and a week later, he flies down once more, calling the club that you work at, demanding for you to be sent to the Heaven Embassy. However, as the next Extermination Day comes close, he’s called for your services once again. You wish you could say no, but he pays quite a lot for you, and you could always use the money.. 

You hate the walk there more than anything. It’s like everyone knows you’re off to go fuck the Exorcist. You look both ways before disappearing through the doors of the Embassy. Maybe they think you’re getting a meeting with- someone. 

The Embassy is empty, and every step you take echoes out in the room. You’re terrified. You always are. It never stops feeling like a trap. Even in the elevator on the way to the suite, you can only stare at the golden doors in front of you, your reflection distorted and twisted. 

If you’re going to be honest- you aren’t sure why it’s you who has to come up. It’s Adam- he’s bragged enough about how he can have anyone, and yet, he pays for a sinner’s cunt. You make sure to not feel special, to squash any pride down. Perhaps it’s too tedious to pay for another sinner or hellborn, and it’s best to just get what he knows will be a good fuck. You sigh and look away from your reflection and the glowing numbers. Still, you show up and do your job. You've taken better and worse clients. The angel is just someone in between. 

The doors open and you pass a few doors until you reach his suite. You don’t know why the Embassy has so many rooms, and when you tried to ask Adam, he made a comment about how you could have a fuck-a-thon, doing it in each room, and you sneered at the idea. 

Your suite- or rather his suite- is unlocked like always. You waste no time, stepping into the shimmering room. It’s livable. A kitchenette on one side, a bathroom with a wonderful shower tucked in the room, and a massive bed pushed to the end of the room. The room is bright, golds and blues, a deep dark wood carved into ornate decorations, and you feel out of place. It’s nice- far too nice for you to show up and defile it with what you’re going to do. The room never ceases to amaze you. There aren’t many places in Hell where the colors are bright and soft at the same time, where things look so pristine and untouched. When you once mentioned to Adam how nice the room was, he laughed and told you that there were far better rooms in Heaven. A part of you still wishes that he would have offered to show you- something, pictures, descriptions, anything. 

“Took you long enough!” The angel says, leaning back on the bed. “I pay for your entire time, ya know? From the walk from your whore house to the embassy, the least ya could do is hurry it up. I’m a very important angel, ya know?”

“You ordered me like last-”

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I don’t want excuses.” His hand waves in the air, and he sits on the bed. “Come on, let’s get to it.��� You roll your eyes at him as you walk closer. “Oi! Don’t roll your eyes at me,” his voice is laced with disgust, and you remember that he looks down on you- in more ways than you would care to admit. “Come on, strip.” Your hands go to unzip your skirt. “And make it good!”

You bite your tongue. Your shirt is the first to go. The action is slow, tantalizing as your fingers skim over your bare skin, and your skirt follows suit, pooling on the floor. You step out the fabric, and your heels click on the floor. Adam watches you, his hands scratching the bed covers. You spread your legs over his right, and grab his hands, letting them touch your ribs and then moving towards your back. 

You can feel the tips of his claws scratch at the clip of your bra. You press your cunt over his robe covered thigh, and grind over it softly. “Please, Adam,” you beg. “Take it off for me?” Your hands rest over his chest, and he watches as you grind yourself over him, your hands fisting over his robe, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you did a bad thing- if this was the wrong move. But then your bra straps fall down your shoulders, and it’s discarded somewhere in the room.

You hiss when his mouth suckles on a breast, the other breast being pinched and pulled at. He sucks so softly, letting his tongue roll over the swelling bud, teething at it so you hiss and arch yourself further into him. You can feel a wet spot grow, and you can’t help but rock yourself over your thigh. The other breast is manhandled, twisted and pinched that has you gasping and fisting holy fabric in your sinner hands. 

You're pushed off and his hands claw over your hip. You get the memo, and peel off your underwear, the wetness of it noticeable, and the only mention of it is when Adam pockets your underwear. You wish you bought another pair with you. The heels are tossed aside, and strong hands push you down from your shoulders. You fall onto your knees with a hiss, and you know what you have to do.

-

“And- And- Oh fuck, that’s it, baby-” He hisses, his head tilted back. The hand fisted into your hair tightens, sharp stinging encouraging you to swallow more so he could let go. “I’m just saying that why would you settle for anything less than-” A moan interrupts his monologue and you look at him through glossy eyes. “Oh fuck. It’s like a fucking gift to suck me off.”

A string of spit and pre-ejaculate connects to your lips as you pull away. It’s thick and white, and you’re gasping for hair, a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and you push yourself to swallow his package, fitting the pair into your mouth as your hand pumps his length. He’s breathing heavily, and you know he's upset at the loss of contact with your mouth with the way that his hand tangles itself into your hair, but his mask is twisted, and you pop them out of your mouth. Your mouth feels dry despite the excess spit- you suppose it’s the salty taste that lingers. 

You take him back in your mouth, eager, and begging for him to just spill his seed already. Your cheeks hollow, and he’s heavy on your tongue. Your tongue swirls over a vein, and you can feel him twitching.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he hisses, his hands cradling your head. You hum, and brace yourself, your hands holding at his thighs, bracing yourself for him to thrust forward. His hands tighten, and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag around him, your throat constricting around him. It’s a horrid sound, loud and hollow, and acid threatens to bubble over. As he continues to pump himself into you, spit dribbles from the corner of your lips and you’re grateful that you were ordered to remove your clothes. 

“That’s right, take it. Oh fuck, fuck-” a string of curses fills the room, and he’s unrelenting, pushing deeper into your throat. A hand slips to grab at your breast, eyes squinting when you can feel the spit coat over your chest. Your other hand tightens around Adam’s thigh, your nails pinching into him.

Your fingers pinch over your nipple, rolling it over, desperate to take your mind off of the assault of your mouth. His thrusts get deeper and harsher, and he’s still in the back of your throat, holding you down. Curses mutter in the air, sharp and slurring together, and he keeps his eyes on you. The eye contact is far too much, the piercing eyes boring into your entire being, and it must be some type of power play for him. You choose to focus on the base of his cock. With your nose pressed into his pubic bone, you cough around him, and finally he pulls away, his seed laying thick on your tongue. Tears wet your face and mix with your spit and the drops of his seed. 

He grabs your chin and you open your mouth, showing the mess that he’s made. Letting go, you stay still, as he taps his cock on your face. It’s tacky with your spit and leaves you feeling much filthier than you would like to admit. You hold the seed in your mouth and he gives a nod, and you make a show of swallowing, and open your mouth to show him. “Did you want me to do a blessing before you swallow?”  He teases. “With my holy cum, I grant you the opportunity to fuck me.” He chuckles at his joke.

“Thank you, Adam,” you murmur, hoping that the soreness on your jaw will go away.

“You know, you could learn how to relax your throat. You’d think after doing this for a living, your gag reflex wouldn't be a thing.” You send him a dirty look, and his grin widens. “So fucking sensitive. What did you want me to tell you? That you were good?”

You aren’t sure what mood he’s in at the moment. Sometimes you can tell when he wants to fight with you- where he wants to punish you and call you a sinner as he ravages you, but then there are moments when he wants you to beg for him, to tell him how good he is, how you want his cock more than anything. But at the moment with your skull pounding and jaw sore, you spit out a simple, “Fuck you.” His grin widens, and he hoists you up onto the bed. The stickiness on your face ruins the soft comforter, and you feel too dirty to even touch something so nice.

“I was going to be nice and just fuck you, but shit, you had to talk back.” 

A hand grips at your rear, and a finger teases at your hole. You hiss at the contact, and you're glad you’re face down or else you’d never hear the end of it of how flustered you must look. As if reading your mind, he flips you over, your face exposed and your hands immediately cover the lower half. 

“Adam-” you squeal, instinctively trying to close your legs only to have them pried apart. 

“Don’t worry,” he says casually. “I just wanna look at how wet you got just from sucking on me.” A finger traces against your slick and you watch as he tastes the finger. “Damn, I should have let you keep your panties on if I knew you were going to get this wet.” A finger enters and you squirm, suckling the intrusion further into your softness. “You’re soaked. And all you had to do was suck me off. You know, if I could keep you, I would.” He enters another finger, pushing the two inside until he’s at the knuckles. “I’d give you a nice collar, a nice bed, and all you would have to do is be my little cocksleeve.” He pulls out, and thick strings of slick connect his fingers back to your cunt. He returns his fingers to your cunt, now with the addition of a third. It’s a wide stretch, a sharp pain being overridden with pleasure. “I bet you’d like that. You’d live a pampered life, and all you have to do is keep your pussy spread open for me.” 

With a yank, you’re pulled further into the bed. The comforters make a soft noise, but the bed itself doesn’t creak. You watch with half-lidded eyes, focused as he rests on his knees beside you, his cock growing, the scent of it enough to make you go dizzy. You brush your cheek against it, licking at the side of it when he thrusts his fingers into you.

You sit on the bed, his cock pressed against your face, and with a mind too delirious to think of anything else, you pull him into your mind, lazily bobbing his head, as his fingers scissor inside of you. 

You breathe heavily, your mind growing fuzzy with the stimulation. He’s slow and lazy, massaging the inside of your gummy walls as he looks down at you taking his cock once more. A hand brushes your hair away from your face, and you pull away, pecking at his cockhead, nuzzling the glistening head against your lips. It isn’t enough for you, and you swallow him once more, humping into his hand when he gives a smart smack to your cunt. 

“Turn around,” he orders, and you scamper to do so. You don’t get a moment to prepare yourself, until he’s bullying himself inside of you. Your hands claw at the comforter, and with watery eyes, you see the fabric tear apart underneath your claws. “You’re clamping down hard around me,” he breathes out, and you buck your hips, trying to feel him deeper into you.

Above you, he's heavy, and selfish, pumping into you relentlessly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is harmonized by your moans. He grunts above you, whispering strings of obscenities and few words of praise linger in the air.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts out, “so fucking good.” His breath is hot against you, fanning out into feathered tickles that touch at your body. He’s never been one for intimacy before reaching his peak, always preferring to be lustful, so you never expect him to actually kiss you, but in moments where he rights just at the right spot, you’d wish he do a little more to make it feel something other that whatever this all is.

His body is pressed against your back, hands squirming underneath to grab at your breasts. His hands are rough and unforgiving, pulling and pinching his nails into your soft skin, You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, puffing and huffing, murmurs about how you feel wrapped around him, and you bury your face into the comforter. Your mouth is slacked open, spit pooling down, as your moan helplessly around him, body taut and nerves feeling as if they’re on fire. 

“No fucking wonder you’re a sinner,” he seethes out, his thrusts harsh and deep, enough to have you see stars and think about how as selfish as he can, he feels so good. “With a pussy this good, I bet you had everyone lined up for just a taste.” You let out a low whine. “Yeah, I bet you did. No wonder you were hired at that sex joint. Did you have to fuck the owner to get in? Ha?” His tone is wicked, and you’re unsure if it’s his words or the fact that you’re so close as to what is making you tear up. His weight above you shifts, and by your hair, you’re yanked back. You yelp and tighten around him, tears slipping down. “I asked you a question.”

“I didn’t-” you yelp as he continues to bully himself inside of you- “I didn’t hear it, ’m sorry,” you mumble, your scalp stinging with pain. 

“Too fucked up on my dick to even think,” he hisses, pushing you down onto the bed. He pulls himself out, and you whimper, shaking your head and pushing yourself closer to him, your cunt weeping for more of him. “A cock hungry slut is all you are, huh?” His cock is pulled out, and he watches you whine, your cunt gaping and leaking slick that makes your thighs glisten. 

“Adam, please,” you moan, turning your head to look over your shoulder. You can feel the drool stick to the side of your lips. 

“Please what?” he spits out, his eyes flickering to yours, before returning to your ruined sex.

You let a whimper, high-pitched and desperate. You fall back to the bed, your eyes looking forward, and your hand slips underneath you, fingers peeking towards your cunt, feeling the warmth drip onto your fingertips. “I want more,” you tell him, your words muffled by the comforter. “I want you,” you tell him, hoping that he’d take pity on you for a moment.

The tip of his cock brushes itself against your opening, and you clench around it, your body aching for more. “Nah, you have to do better than that.” Your cries are shushed, brows furrowed and you’re turned over onto your back, “Come on, I’ve heard you beg before.” Two of his fingers enter you, thrusting in painfully slow. “You know what to say already.” Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your fingers twisting the bed sheets into spirals. You shake your head, humping pathetically into his hand. “I promise to make ya feel real good.” 

“Adam,” you croak. He pulls his fingers out, and tears gluten over your lashes. “Please, I wanna be fucked.” Your legs tense when you feel the tip of his cock nestle itself inside of you. “I’m just a filthy sinner who needs-” you yelp when he thrusts himself inside of you, the entire lengths filling you nicely- “needs to be fucked by your holy dick.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softy over your skin. 

“A little more, honey, and I’ll ruin that demon pussy for you.” His hands curve over your hips, scratching softly over your skin, his voice low and sweet for you.

“Adam,” you plead, your hands curving over your breasts, “I need you,” you whisper in a haze. “I need your cock in me, I wanna cum real bad. I need you. I need you to fuck my sinner pussy.”

He gives you a lazy smile, and gives a nonchalant shrug. “Good enough.” He pushes himself inside of you. Your stomach coils into a heat, and you suck in a harsh breath when his fingers slip to rub at the bundle of nerves between your legs. “You have a fucking grip on my dick. What is it? Are you close?” You let out a broken moan. Your legs kick up, and wrap around him. “If I cum in you, you’re dealing with it.” His grin is sharp and predatory, and it only makes you drag your hands down his arms.

Your hands reach up, and you hold the sides of his neck, your hands curving behind, and you just feel tufts of hair peek from underneath the mask. A hand reaches to grab your wrist, holding it tightly, and you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise afterward. “You fuckin’ slut,” he spits out. “You think just because you got my mask off last time, I’ll let you look at me again?”

“Adam,” you whimper out, scratching at the back of his neck with your free hand, “please. I just wanna look,” you slur out. You know you’ll regret saying those things when you’ve sobered from him, but sex always did make you softer, needier. You think that must be why he decided to continue to hire you- to see you pant for him and stroke his ego. “You’re so pretty, I wanna see,” you lament. “I wanna- I just- I wanna look at you when I cum,” you stumble over your words, your fingertips tapping against the bottom of the mask. The golden eyes narrow at you, and you can only look for so long until you turn your attention elsewhere.

His mask is tossed to the side, and his irises glow. The hand that holds your wrist loosens, and you cup over his cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching at your palm. “Fuck- Oh fuck,” you hiss out, your heart beating against your chest rapidly. “I’m gonna- Oh my- Adam! Fuck,” you hiss, the knot in your stomach tightening, a pressure building more and more until you’re sure that you’ll burst. 

Even as your body shakes, he doesn’t stop. He continues moving his hips, pushing all of himself inside of you, his breath coming out in pants above you, his smile sharp and face flushed. A hand wraps around your neck, and you arch yourself into it, whining and mumbling at how your cunt is still too sensitive, how he has to slow down, but he coos at you, and he tells you how good you’re benign for him, and you hold onto his wrist with your hands. 

Adam places his face close to yours, his lips and breath fanning above yours, and you’re stuck staring at his eyes, unable to look away from the gold in front of you. You lick your lips, and you brush against his. He stares at you, and your face burns. 

He gives shallow thrusts, and is still inside of you, and you can feel him. You can feel the heat, and the stickiness leaks out of you. He keeps himself there, and hides himself into the crook of your neck. After a moment, he slips out, and you can feel the heaviness of his seed weep out of you in slow and heavy drools. 

You lay in the afterglow, chest heaving and sweat and more sticking to your skin. Your body is on pins and needles, and laying on top of the soft bedding, you could fall asleep right then and there. Nestled into a pile of feathers and gold, you could die- again- and be happy with it. 

But then the man- the first man- groans and you remember that this isn't the time to play house. You have a job. Or rather, you had one, and now you have to return. You lift yourself up into a sitting position, and you stare at the bathroom. A part of you wants to take a shower, but you fear that if you even just tasted what luxury is, you’d have to be pried out of the embassy. 

With a sigh, you lift yourself off of the body and gather your clothes. The lack of underwear is something that you frown upon, but when you look back to the angel, with the demand for its return, you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. You’ve walked around without it before when customers got handsy, this is nothing. Your skirt is tight, and long enough that only a pervert would tell. 

“So,” he trails off, lying on his back, “do you wanna cuddle or something?”

Your eyes widen, and as you flatten your skirt, you thin your lips. “Uh, no. No thanks, Adam. I’m uh- I’m good.” You straighten your top, and tap your heels against the floor, the sharp click echoes in the chambers. 

“Whatever,” he huffs, “I was just gonna psych you out anyways.” He waves his hand, and cool air rushes around you. 

You let out a sigh, looking at the mirror where you stared at yourself just a bit ago. Your hands play with your hair, making sure that when you leave, it won’t look like you just slept with someone. You hum, and tilt your head from side to side, trying to find some sort of mark that would have to be hidden. However, the cool air- his own magic or blessing- has fixed any evidence of indecency on you.

“The extermination is next month,” Adam sighs. Your eyes flick up, and you catch him staring at you- golden eyes piercing into your own, unblinking and unbothered. 

“I’m aware,” you tell him, returning to look at yourself in the mirror. You stand straight and let out a sharp sigh. “I think some of the residents are already panicking.”

“Are you?”

Your stomach knots itself, and you remember when you were first bought by Adam- the nervousness, the disgust, the bile burning your throat. It’s all too familiar at this moment. You shrug. “I don’t think it’s set in yet,” you mumble. 

“I’ll come by the night before.” You look at the white tiles- the grout filled with shimmering gold, and the tiles patterned with silver and gold lines. “I’ll leave the back door unlocked like last time.” He doesn’t say the words nicely, it’s more like an afterthought, as if telling you this is a bother, but still, he tells you this, and one thing you've learned about Adam is that he hasn't lied to you yet. You fist the hem of your skirt in your hands, and nod. It’s silent, and then he starts again, annoyance laced into his words. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Adam,” you tell him in a beat. 

“Yeah, well, I can't have my favorite whore die.” His wings unfurl and stretch across the bed. The tips of the feathers reach just beyond the mattress, and you shrug. The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel small compared to him. In the mirror, you can see his reflection, his  mouth thinning, and his eyes narrowing. “I- uh- I still have you for ten more minutes.” You make eye contact with him in the mirror. “Get back here. I wanna suck on your tits.”

You stick your tongue out, and your hips sway as you walk towards him, your heels falling carelessly to the floor as you rest beside him. His hands are cold as they peel off your shirt and without a care, he tosses it to the foot of the grand bed. A hand cups at your breast, and you can feel his breath fan over your chest, and you wait to feel his teeth bite at you, but you never do. The wetness of his lips trace over the swell of your breast, a peck pressed against the bud, but never swallowing it. Your chest is heavy with his weight on top of you, and the hand on your breast unfurls and curves over your ribs. His wings expand, and they partially cover you, the softness of them akin to the finest blanket in what only money can buy. 

Realization as what he’s doing has your body heating, and you worry that he can tell with the way that he’s laid bare on your chest, and yet, he makes no snide comments. This is far more intimate than anything you’ve ever done before. With a harsh swallow, your arm wraps around him, your hand reaching upwards to scratch at the back of his head. Your hands knot into his hair, your nails dully scratching along his scalp. He lets out a low hum in response, nuzzling his cheek over your bare skin in approval. 

With a shaky breath, you break the silence. “You know, I was thinking, that maybe I’d uh, give that Hazbin Hotel a shot.” You feel his hands scratch over your ribs, straight, and piercing, and they cling to you as his breath hitches. “I’m not sure I believe in the whole redemption thing, but free housing is nice.” You feel him nod slowly, and you twirl a piece of his hair around your finger. He gives you a short answer, one that is mumbled into your skin and doesn't make its way to you, and his wings inch further up covering more of your body as he brushes his lips against the swell of your breast. You don’t look at the time even when you feel that he’s grown heavier on your body.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #i uh #something something he's pretty and awful #i just really wanted to write the last part #but i needed sustenance #i needed food #i had to write them getting there #i think he'd get a soft spot #like he'd like just a few people but would have trouble connecting to them #but i also think he would pay money to like get with a sinner #something about his ego and stuff #how he knows that hes better #but hes still depraved because he keeps going back to one specific demon #please let him return as a demon #i need it #i need him

[amysnotdeadyet]

Good Steve

Another! And then I have to go cook dinner. Stupid reality.

My darling @newtypeshadow asked for a somewhat complicated Steddie from Stranger Things plot, so she gets 555 words.

If there was one thing Eddie Munson was known for — besides shredding on the guitar — it was being protective of his boyfriend. Corroded Coffin were big enough that when they got outed the subsequent dip in record sales didn't tank their careers.

The metal scene was all about people living their lives outside of social conventions, after all.

Eddie did a cover of Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" to open every concert that tour. Steve came along the way he always did. Instead of hanging with the other WAGs, he wore a staff shirt and assisted everywhere backstage. He'd learned a ton of useful skills in his years touring with them, and was always happy to help.

It took new guys some time to figure that out, though.

"Why the fuck is he here?" asked the guy who would be known as Bad Steve for the duration of his employment. He was a lighting expert of some renown, but he'd been caught in traffic on the way to the gig, so Steve had started setup while they waited.

"You're late," said Nate through the headset.

Steve emerged from beneath the boards already talking. "They need to solder #17, it's just not connecting." He turned to Bad Steve with a charming, boyish grin. "Oh, hey! I'm Steve, happy to lend a hand."

"You're Munson's boytoy." Bad Steve, unfortunately, had not muted his headset.

A dark 'ooooh' went through the line from several sources.

Steve's expression shuttered. "Check it or don't, but don't blame me if it goes out. Chart's over there."

Eddie came crashing into the booth, looking like a hot mess. "Stevie, baby, I need your touch."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You need me to do your eyeliner again because you smudged it already."

"Yep," said Eddie. "Oh, and Bad Steve, do consider who might be listening, hm?"

Steve let Eddie put his hands in the back pocket of his admittedly small jeans shorts, not even bothering to glance back to where Bad Steve was fuming.

A few hours later, when #17 had been soldered and the show was underway, Bad Steve got to see why Eddie's Steve was the favorite.

A nazi punk managed to get onstage while security was breaking up a fight elsewhere, and Steve flew out of wings with fire in his eyes to tackle the guy before he got past the monitors. Long legs pinned the guy's back to the floor, and he palmed the guy's head like a basketball, leaning in to say something there was no mic to pick up.

The guy tried to get up and got his face slammed into the stage for his trouble, Steve clearly in control even when the punk tried to swipe with a switchblade. The knife clattered away as Steve brought his own arm down on the guy's hand, smashing it into the monitor with a crunching sound and the screech of feedback.

The rest of security finally arrived to confiscate the knife and the nazi. Steve let him up, holding his own hands out while they hauled him away.

At that point, no one could blame Eddie for the scorching kiss that followed.

"Well," said Eddie into the mic, once Steve was safely offstage. "That was fuckin' hot, right?"

The cheers that followed were almost as deafening as the music.

#steddie #stranger things #my fic #ficlet #steve learns to kick ass better as time goes on

[tainsan]

misfits XI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of therapy, self deprication, mature scene but it's not crazy

⇥ word count: 9.5k

⇥ a/n: okay i know you have all been looking foward to this chapter, it is an intense one and i hope yall finally enjoy some much needed romantic tension ;-;

⇥ this chapter is for my wife @l0vetiny, ilysm!!!

⇢ masterlist ⇠

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--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Resting in your room, you stand at the crossroads of your emotions, torn between the familiarity of cherished friendships and the allure of a potential romantic relationship. The idea of taking that leap excites and terrifies you, as it means venturing into uncharted territory with people you've known and admired for years.

Whenever you look at your group of friends, you can't help but feel a tinge of envy towards their popularity. They seem to effortlessly navigate social situations and grab attention wherever they go. Would you be able to handle the spotlight that inevitably comes with being associated with them in a romantic capacity? You know about their jealous fans, and the attention you would most definitely receive upon starting a relationship. Not to mention the rumours and bad words that would be spread once someone finds out you aren’t just in a relationship with one of them, yet all of them.

Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and you know that building it anew on different grounds will be a crucial step. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for something more with them, to explore a connection that goes beyond friendship. Their laughter, the inside jokes you share, and the way they understand you have always made your heart skip a beat. Yet, the fear of jeopardising your bond keeps you hesitating, wondering if you can afford to risk what you already have.

You battle with your own insecurities, questioning whether you're ready for the rollercoaster of emotions that a romantic relationship might bring. Are you enough? Can you handle the weight of their expectations? The prospect of letting them down frightens you, and you're afraid of losing not only a romantic partner but also your close friends.

The truth is, you think you want this relationship, yet you acknowledge that timing is everything. The decision weighs heavily on you, and you need to be certain in your heart before taking the plunge. You owe it to yourself and to them to be genuine, vulnerable, and ready to embrace the changes this choice will bring.

You decide to step away from your bed for a moment, feeling the weight of your emotions overwhelming you. Making your way to the bathroom, you start your nighttime routine, pausing for a few seconds to look at the bottle of moisturiser, bringing a flood of thoughts of Yunho to your head. 

Yunho has changed so much since the day you first saw him in the kitchen. His transformation has been quite remarkable. You can't help but reflect on how he's evolved since your trip to the store for your moisturiser. Initially, he appeared rude, his demeanour shrouded in a kind of icy reserve. It was almost as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

However, as time passed, you noticed the shift in his demeanour. When you went to the furniture store together, it was like the walls he'd built around himself were slowly coming down. Yunho's newfound warmth towards you is reminiscent of the time from your high school days, when you sought refuge from the troubles at home and found peace in the warehouse, where he discovered you alone.

Back then, you were both navigating the challenges of adolescence, and life had already presented you with your fair share of hardships. It was in those moments of solitude, away from the chaos of your respective lives, that you forged a unique connection. Yunho, with his quiet strength and understanding, had become a source of comfort and support during those difficult times.

The memories of those moments still linger, etched in the corners of your mind. Now, as you both find yourselves facing the complexities of adulthood, it's heartening to see that the genuine care and compassion that existed between you during those formative years has resurfaced.

Since the heart-to-heart conversation in the kitchen, where the weight of secrets were finally lifted, Yunho has transformed before your eyes. He's become someone almost unfamiliar to you, but in the most delightful way.

It's as if the depths of your conversation unleashed a new side of him, a side that perhaps he had kept hidden or hadn't fully embraced until now. The Yunho you're getting to know is a true gentleman, a man who takes the time to say sweet things to you, even if his cheeks and ears turn a delightful shade of crimson in the process.

Shaking off the thoughts you look into the mirror, peering at your reflection with a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt. As you gaze at yourself, a flood of insecurities surfaces. You scrutinise every detail, the lines on your face, the curve of your lips, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. Negative thoughts swirl in your mind like a tempest, questioning whether you're worthy of love from such amazing individuals.

You wonder if they see the same flaws you do, if they'll be disappointed when they look at you more closely, or if they'll realise you're not as perfect as they might have thought. It's a daunting prospect to believe that someone could genuinely care for you, especially when surrounded by a circle of friends who seem to radiate charm and confidence.

The fear of rejection and judgement gnaws at you, threatening to sabotage the happiness you yearn for. You can't help but compare yourself to them, feeling like you're an outsider in their world of popularity and allure. It's as if a little voice inside your head tells you that you'll never truly belong, that you're not good enough to deserve their love and affection.

Tears blur your vision as you try to silence the self-criticism, the lingering doubts that seem to echo through your mind. You question whether you'll ever be ready for a relationship with them, wondering if your insecurities will push them away, destroying the friendship you hold so dear.

Moving yourself from the bathroom, you attempt to find a moment of peace to collect your thoughts. Finding refuge in the comfort of your bedroom, you close the bathroom door behind you and sit down on the floor in the centre of the room, feeling the weight of hesitation settling upon your shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, you're confronted by a flood of thoughts about your mental health issues, trauma, and the complex needs you carry within you. The struggle with anxiety, the lingering effects of past experiences, and the emotional scars that sometimes feel too heavy to bear; they all come rushing back, demanding your attention.

In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, a surge of doubt grips you. You begin to question if the boys you have grown to love, who seem to have it all together, would truly be capable of handling the intricacies of your mental health journey. Would they understand when anxiety creeps in, leaving you paralyzed with fear? Could they be patient and supportive when the shadows of your past cast their long shadows over your present?

It's an agitated storm of self-doubt, wondering if your needs might be too much for them to bear. The fear of burdening them with your struggles gnaws at your heart, and you find yourself grappling with the thought that you might not be deserving of their love and care. You so desperately wish to be happy, and the happiness you feel when you are around the boys is stronger than you have ever felt before. You definitely need to talk to Jisung about this, his advice always seeming to relieve the pressure off your heavy heart.

Today you only expected to confront the eight men about the past, finding out answers and you seem to have got more than you bargained for. One part of you is glad you know their affections towards you, yet one half is torn from having to make the decision.

With your room being shrouded in darkness, the only source of light being the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, you try to relax on the floor, your knees pulled close to your chest, surrounded by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You know you should be getting to bed, sleeping for the next day which holds lectures withholding important information. Time seems to stand still as you replay the heartfelt words spoken by the eight men. 

Amidst the turmoil of your mind, there is a sudden knock on your door. Startled, you glance at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest. Hesitating to answer, the door slowly creaks open for you, revealing the silhouette of Seonghwa standing there, his expression mirroring the same restlessness that is keeping you awake.

“Can I come in?” Seonghwa quietly asks, scared to be turned down, yet as he sees the gentle smile and nod cover your features, accepting the invitation, the man makes his way in. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his presence brings both comfort and a further storm to your heart, as the confession resurfaces in your mind.

"Mingi and I just got back from managing the bar, but I can't sleep," Seonghwa says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

His honesty only deepens the emotional turbulence inside. You are grappling with the same uncertainty, the same fear of what the future may hold.

“Come sit with me,” you say, hoping he will relax next to you.

As he settles down beside you on the floor, there is a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The room is filled with a mixture of emotions – the lines of friendship blurring before your eyes.

“You don't find it weird do you?” Seonghwa says breaking the heavy tension that suddenly coated the room.

“Find what weird?” You question, not sure as to what Seonghwa is asking.

“Us being together, as nine.”

You realise Seonghwa is inquiring about the group's dynamic and relationship. 

“Not really…” you start, not knowing if you should disclose your worries with Seonghwa, yet when you see the pleading look on his features, you feel your walls breaking, “honestly I'm just worrying whether I'll fit in, you guys are so close. I don't know if I will be able to be good enough for you guys.” You admit, feeling slightly embarrassed to be admitting such information.

“___,” Seonghwa says your name softly, feeling awfully upset you would even think you weren't good enough to be with them. “You are perfect for us, you don't need to worry about anything. There is nothing you could ever do that would make us think you don't belong with us. If anything, we don't deserve you. The kindness you have shown us, despite the rumours, despite everything has shown us enough. Whether it is with us or not, we just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

Gently, you cast a grateful glance towards Seonghwa, feeling a rush of emotions as his words wash over you. They bring both comfort and solace, embracing you in a tender embrace of understanding and support. It stays silent for a while as you let his words touch your heart. 

“I’m doing better…” Seonghwa says, once again breaking the silence and you wonder as to why he suddenly uttered those specific words.

When you shoot him a perplexed glance, Seonghwa responds with a soft chuckle, sensing your confusion. He then proceeds to clarify his statement with a reassuring tone.

“Back when you found me on the rooftop…” Seonghwa trails off as he sees the way you hold your breath reminiscing the night, he relaxes slightly as you nod at him to continue, ignoring the sudden surge of negative emotions clouding your vision. 

“The boys encouraged me to seek help. I was feeling so lost and overwhelmed, like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I took that first step, and it changed everything. My therapist helped me understand myself on a level I never thought possible,” Seonghwa pauses, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I’m so happy for you Seonghwa, truly. That is amazing.” Seonghwa helping himself, becoming better and finally feeling alive truly brings happiness to your soul. 

“When I heard you were in this school, I was really nervous at first, I was scared you were going to see me as the guy from high school who was constantly bothering you.”

Seonghwa huckles along with you, the shared laughter carries the weight of old memories and newfound understanding. You can't help but reminisce about the times when Seonghwa would follow you around school like a loyal companion, a testament to his friendship, even if it did sometimes border on being a little bothersome.

“I was worried you were going to be a different person completely, but when I saw you again for the first time in years, even though you have changed physically, you were definitely still the same.”

“What do you mean?” You question, not sure what his words mean.

“Your laugh, your voice, your humour, your kindness, your eyes. They are all the same as back then. But your eyes, they are brighter now, happier. You are just as, if not, even more, beautiful.” Seonghwa admits, “I don’t think I can lose you again.”

Silence falls upon the two of you as you let the tender words of the man in front of you sink in. The words of love play with your heartstrings, making your end decision even more daunting.

"I don't know what to do," you finally whisper, your voice breaking and Seonghwa immediately realises you are speaking of the confession and proposition, “I like you, all of you, yet it just seems so fast, so new.”

Seonghwa listens to your confession and when he senses the depth of your reciprocated feelings, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs him. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine, as if he's on the brink of something incredibly special and profound. Your words have touched him in a way that nothing else ever has. It's a feeling of euphoria, knowing that the person he cares about so deeply shares those same sentiments.

However, beneath this elation, he also senses the subtle undercurrent of fear and hesitation in you. It's completely understandable after so many years of being apart. The prospect of starting a new chapter, especially one as significant as a romantic relationship, can indeed be daunting. Seonghwa empathises with your feelings entirely.

Yet, despite the uncertainty and the challenges that lie ahead, he can't help but yearn for your affection and the chance to call you his own. The connection you share, one that has spanned years and endured the test of time, is something he cherishes deeply.

In Seonghwa's chest, his heart beats with a mixture of excitement and patience. He knows that these things take time, and he's willing to take it one step at a time with you, ensuring that you both feel comfortable and secure in whatever path you choose to explore. For now, he's content with the knowledge that the feelings are mutual, and he's looking forward to seeing where this newfound chapter of your connection will lead.

Seonghwa instinctively reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring, yet as you remember the confession once more, the action of affection makes your reaction extreme, your cheeks heating up, your heart racing faster than usual. 

"We don't have to figure it all out right now," he says gently. "Let's take our time. We'll figure it out together."

“It’s just… I’m still trying to process that you guys are still alive, now I have something else to think about, it all seems too much.”

Seonghwa continues to listen to you and he can almost feel the waves of unease radiating from your very being. It's a raw and vulnerable moment, and he wishes deeply that he could find a way to ease the emotional storm surging behind your eyes.

Unconsciously, his fingers begin to play with yours tenderly. It's a small, comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's present, and he's ready to support you in whatever way you need.

At this moment, Seonghwa isn't focused on any hurry or pressure to define your relationship. Instead, he's fully attuned to your emotions, your concerns, and your hesitations. He knows that sometimes, the most valuable thing he can offer is his patient understanding and unwavering support.

“I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.” He finally speaks, his voice starting to break as he feels his throat tighten up, “I was so lost without you.”

The moment Seonghwa utters those words, you can hear the raw emotion in his voice, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. His admission that he was lost without you hits you deeply, and it's impossible not to feel the depth of his emotions. The warmth of your touch is a silent reassurance, letting him know that you understand that you've also carried your own share of longing and uncertainty.

"I'm here now," you say softly, your voice filled with understanding and compassion. "Sometimes life takes us on different paths, but we find our way back to the people who matter most."

Seonghwa's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. In this moment of shared vulnerability, you both find comfort in each other's presence, knowing that the past is behind you and the future is filled with possibility.

“Seonghwa,” You begin to call the man’s name, recognising the way he is starting to succumb to his emotions.

“There is not a single day that went by without us regretting leaving you. We just had to make sure it was safe for you before we came back.”

His heartfelt words pierce your heart, leaving your mind a mess.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. I won’t leave you, any of you.”

In the hushed stillness of the room, you raise the hand that was resting underneath his, to delicately caress Seonghwa's cheek, cupping it tenderly. Your touch is gentle, like a soothing relief to his heartache. With a soft stroke of your thumb, you wipe away the tears cascading down his beautiful face, a gesture of comfort that speaks volumes.

When you reach your other hand to cup his entire face, the sensation sends shivers down his spine. The tenderness of your touch makes his heart race with a mixture of emotions. It feels like it has been an eternity since he felt the warmth of your hands on his skin, and in this moment, it feels like an unsaid accomplishment, a connection he had yearned for, an action he has only seen in his dreams, finally being a reality brings warmth to his entire soul.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes, but your presence, your touch, makes him feel seen and understood in a way he has never imagined, yet he no longer knows if the tears are from sorrow or pure happiness. It's as if the weight of his emotions can finally be shared, knowing that you are there to offer solace and support. In the quiet intimacy of this moment, he finds himself silently thanking fate for bringing him to your room tonight.

The world seems to fade away as Seonghwa places his hands gently on top of yours, his touch sending a rush of warmth through your entire being. In this tender moment, you become highly aware of the intimate proximity between the two of you. Your faces mere inches apart, and as you lock eyes with him, time seems to stand still.

Despite the urge to move away, your body seems to have a will of its own, keeping you locked in this position. It's as if the universe conspired to bring you together in this moment, and you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

The softness of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to hold a world of unspoken emotions, leaves you captivated. In this delicate embrace, you feel a sense of vulnerability, as if a barrier that once separated you has been lifted, allowing your hearts to commune in a profound and intimate way.

The air around you is charged with unspoken desires and untamed emotions. Your heart races, torn between the familiarity of friendship and the allure of something more. There is a soft tension in the air, like a dance between two souls on the precipice of a love that has been silently blooming.

Continuing to gaze into each other's eyes, the depth of your connection becomes undeniable. It's a moment of reckoning, where you know you must confront the feelings that have been swirling within you both. Yet, in this suspended moment, the fear of the unknown fades, replaced by serene acceptance of the present.

In this captivating scene, you allow yourself to be immersed in the depth of your emotions, knowing that there is also beauty in the uncertainty, in the uncharted territories of the heart. As you share this intimate space with Seonghwa, you feel a sense of wonder, a willingness to explore the unspoken desires that have led you to this enchanting moment.

As the air crackles with unspoken desires, a gentle breeze seems to sweep through the room, carrying an air of anticipation. Neither of you can deny the magnetic pull drawing you closer, and in this intimate moment, you both surrender to the unspoken feelings that have been lingering between you.

“____,” Seonghwa calls your name softly, gazing deeply into your eyes, “I don’t know if I can live without you.”

Staying silent, you aren’t too sure how to respond, the heaviness of the confession making you too flustered to respond.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just needed you to know.”

Seonghwa's hands remain atop yours, his touch a comforting anchor as you lean in ever so slightly.

“Hwa.” You catch the man’s attention with the old nickname, making his heart race even quicker in his chest. Feeling confident, you slowly start to close the gap between your lips, until they are just a breath away from each other. 

“Can I…” Seonghwa begins before taking a deep, nervous breath in, “kiss you?” Seonghwa whispers, centimetres away from your lips. It takes you less than a few seconds to reply, even though your heart is beating out of your chest, you gently accept. 

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you close your eyes, savouring the tingling anticipation that courses through your veins.In this suspended moment, time ceases to exist as your lips finally meet in a tender kiss. It's a soft and hesitant exploration, as if both of you are testing the waters of this new intimacy. The touch of his lips against yours sends a quake of delight down your spine, igniting a warmth in your heart that you can't quite put into words. His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, testing the waters, seeing what you are comfortable with.

Instinctively your bodies draw closer, seeking relief in each other's embrace. The world outside fades away as you lose yourselves in the intoxicating taste of his plump lips. Finding yourself getting drunk off of the way his lips feel against yours, you hesitantly pull away, scared that you will fall in too deep, or make Seonghwa uncomfortable with the sudden rush of love and lust that you begin to feel.

Pulling away, your eyes meet once again with Seonghwa’s brown ones, and you are shocked by the sight. His usual round, soft eyes, now blown out and hooded, an indescribable emotion coursing through his veins.

Before you can utter a single word, you find yourself enveloped in Seonghwa's embrace, his strong arms securely wrapping around your waist as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs settle on either side of his body, the soft carpet cushioning your knees as your chest presses flat against his. The closeness of your bodies sends a surge of electricity through you, and yet, there is an overwhelming sense of comfort in this intimate position.

Gazing into Seonghwa's eyes, you see a mix of desire, lust and tenderness reflected in his gaze. He's careful to gauge your reaction, making sure you are comfortable with this new closeness. Without hesitation, you offer him a reassuring smile, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

When his lips find yours once more, and this time the kiss is less gentle, Seonghwa’s tongue poking at the entrance of your mouth, and you feel an unspoken longing and passion. It's a connection that feels natural and familiar, as if your souls have been searching for this closeness all along. The way his warm lips caress yours is powerful, and you find yourself melting into the embrace, savouring the sensation of being so close to him. The kiss becomes messy as you allow his tongue to enter your mouth, dancing together as you press your body closely against his. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck, tilting your head to further deepen the intense kiss.

Seonghwa's arms encircle you, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. The world around you seems to fade away, and all that matters is the intimacy of this moment and the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours, the way his touch makes you feel cherished, adored, and hot, so hot.

As the kiss deepens, the boundaries between friendship and something more blur, and you realise that this is a connection that goes beyond labels and definitions. It's a love that defies explanation, a bond that has been quietly growing between you for years.

Seonghwa's touch ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself craving more of his affection, his warmth, his love. It's a feeling that is both thrilling and comforting, like coming home to the one person who understands you in a way no one else can.

His arms begin to rub up and down your back, gently passing underneath your night shirt and landing on your bare hips, gently caressing the bare skin. The warmth of his hands causes a small gasp to emit from your throat, jolting you slightly, making your hips rub gently against Seonghwa’s crotch.

“Fuck, angel.” Seonghwa's low groan reverberates through both of you, the sudden nickname sending shivers down your spine, straight to your core. The way he pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms, still underneath your shirt, tightly around your waist, creates an intoxicating sensation that leaves you breathless. Your skin pressed against his feels like a perfect fit, as if you were always meant to be in this embrace. The raw intimacy of the moment leaves both of you feeling lost in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

Seonghwa pulls away from your lips, and you are about to protest, yet the complaints die in your throat as his lips trail to the curve of your neck causing your heart to race, your senses heightened by every touch. He peppers small kisses down the curve of your neck, gently nibbling on the flesh.

The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists is you and Seonghwa. His hands explore the contours of your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of his desires. Every caress and every whisper of his breath against your skin ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself surrendering to the passion that courses through your veins.

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, your voice almost getting caught in your throat.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa mutters against the skin of your neck.

Unconsciously, the nickname causes you to move your hips against the males, desperately wanting a reaction from him. The deep groan that reverberates from his throat leaves you both satisfied and craving for more simultaneously.

“___,” Seonghwa stutters out, the sudden boldness of your movements leaving his head spinning, “we should stop,” 

Pulling away slowly, you give him a worried look, hoping dreadfully you haven't crossed a boundary. Seonghwa gently chuckles at the cute look on your face.

Pinching your cheek softly, he speaks again, “we just started, I want to take my time with you.”

Seonghwa's statement washes over you like a gentle wave, stirring up a delightful mix of excitement and nervousness that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Without hesitation, he draws you close once more, enveloping you in a comforting embrace that radiates warmth and affection. As you rest your head in the crook of his neck, you find yourself basking in the tender intimacy of the moment, cherishing the precious connection you share.

“You should get to sleep, we are going shopping early tomorrow.” Seonghwa’s deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Are we going shopping?” You question, feeling a sudden rush of sleepiness overcoming your senses. 

Nuzzling your head even closer into the crook of Seonghwa's neck, you sense the gentle thump of his heart escalating, mirroring the accelerated rhythm of your own. Although you can’t see it, Seonghwa’s cheeks are a blazing hot shade of red as he tries to calm himself from going further. He realises that pushing you to do something when you're already confused is not the right option. As much as Seonghwa wishes to take you, claim you right here, like he has been dreaming for years, he waits patiently, not wanting to overwhelm you. The lingering effect of the shared kiss intensifies the moment, making it all the more electrifying and unforgettable.

"Let's get you to bed, angel," Seonghwa whispers tenderly, his hold around your waist tightening as he firmly presses your body against his own, lifting you both effortlessly from the floor. Your legs instinctively coil around his waist, and as he carries you towards the bed, the red blush intensifies on Seonghwa's cheeks, his heart racing with every step. The intimate closeness and the warmth of the moment leave him adorably flustered, but his focus remains on ensuring your comfort and care.

Tucking you in the blankets, he sits by the side of your bed, watching your weary form with a violent blush  and a wide smile covering his entire face. 

"Goodnight, Seonghwa," you mumble softly, settling into the cosy embrace of your pillow. Witnessing your endearing gesture, Seonghwa feels his heart swell with affection, amazed at how he could fall even deeper for you, a feeling he once thought was impossible. As he watches over you, he can't help but feel grateful for the precious moments shared and the special connection that continues to grow between the two of you. With a gentle smile, he lingers for a moment, savouring the sight of you before finally whispering his own goodnight, his heart full of fondness and admiration. Departing from your bedroom with a satisfied smile on his face, Seonghwa heads straight for his bathroom, desperately needing a cold shower to calm his thoughts of you situated in his lap, looking so pretty. He definitely needs to clear those thoughts before he finds himself running back to your bedroom.

----

The soft morning light gently filters through the curtains, causing you stir from your slumber, a warm and blissful feeling spreading through your entire being. You can't help but smile as the memory of the tender kiss you shared with Seonghwa last night floods your mind, filling you with a sense of giddiness and butterflies in your stomach. The way his lips touched yours lingers in your thoughts, leaving you feeling loved and cherished.

With a contented sigh, you stretch your limbs beneath the soft sheets and sit up, the room enveloped in a soft glow that seems to match the radiance in your heart. You can't wait to see your roommates, to share the joy of this morning with them and bask in the warmth of their presence.

Getting up from your bed, the floor feels cool against your feet, contrasting with the warmth in your heart. You take your time getting ready, savouring each moment as you brush your hair and wash your face. There's an air of excitement and anticipation building within you, eager to embrace the day ahead and the company of your dear roommates.

Making your way to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast fills the air, and your senses are treated to a delightful feast. To your delight, all eight of your friends are gathered at the counter, and you can't help but notice that they all look particularly handsome today, their smiles radiant and welcoming. You aren't sure if it is because of their confession yesterday, or if they always look this good, but something has changed. The sight of them all waiting for you warms your heart, and you feel a mix of gratitude and affection for each member of the group. It's a feeling of belonging and togetherness that washes over you, reinforcing the deep bond you share with them.

Unconsciously, you gravitate towards Seonghwa, the events of last night still at the front of your mind, who beams at your approach with that charming smile that has a way of melting your heart. His eyes light up when he sees you, and the affection in his gaze makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world. 

When you get close to him, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, causing a small yelp of surprise to leave your mouth, the action catching you off guard making you feel awfully warm in the face.

What surprises you is that neither of the seven men around you even flinch, though they send a questioning look to Seonghwa who just gently shrugs, an amused, smug expression gracing his features as he holds you close to him, addicted to the way your body feels against him. 

Unbeknownst to you, yesterday night was very difficult for Seonghwa. In the quiet hours after your time together, his thoughts were consumed by an intense longing. The memory of your closeness lingered, and his yearning for the touch of your body against his became almost overwhelming. Throughout the night, a compelling desire took hold of him, urging him to find any possible way to feel your presence once more. 

He found himself on the brink of leaving his own room multiple times, his heart urging him to seek the physical connection he so deeply carved from you. Each time, he would pull back, reminding himself of the boundaries and the need to respect your space. It was a struggle that played out repeatedly throughout the night, a battle between his longing and his determination to be patient and considerate. Yet now you are here, with your consent, he doesn't feel the need to hold back, wanting to touch you in any way possible.

When you take your seat at the counter, you can't help but notice a bowl of your favourite breakfast waiting for you, a thoughtful gesture from Wooyoung that fills you with warmth. The gesture speaks volumes of the care and consideration your friends have for you, and you feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such loving and attentive individuals.

“I hope it tastes nice.” Wooyoung says, a shy tone to his voice that has you surprised, wondering where his usual flirty, playful self is.

"I'm sure it's lovely, Woo," you reply with a playful tone, using the endearing nickname that sends delightful shivers cascading down Wooyoung's spine. The affectionate term fills his chest with pride and joy, revelling in the fact that you chose a cute name to address him. The sweet exchange between the two of you leaves Wooyoung with a heartwarming sense of happiness and admiration for you.

Munching away on the food, you allow yourself to completely relax as the flavours of the food warm and caress your tongue.

"Are you coming to the mall with us today?" Yeosang is situated on the other side of you and asks in a hushed tone, his eyes filled with hope as he awaits your response. Meanwhile, the other seven members are deeply engrossed in a somewhat serious yet lighthearted debate about whether butts are considered as two or one. Despite their lively discussion, Yeosang remains focused on your answer, eager for you to join them on the outing.

"Yes, I think so. I desperately need some new clothes," you reply with a smile, feeling the warmth of Yeosang’s undivided attention as he turns his entire body towards you, clearly focused on your words. The genuine interest he shows in your plans for the day brings a sense of connection, making you even more eager to spend time with the group. Excitement builds as you look forward to the fun outing with your friends, hoping it will be a memorable day spent together.

Yet something suddenly nags at your mind, causing you to feel a little vulnerable. “Aren't you worried about being seen with me in public? I don't think people would be happy with me being around you.”

“We don't care what people think, you are one of us.” he says, his tone soft as he peers at your flustered reaction, a smile graces his face.

You feel a rush of flustered emotions as you notice Yeosang's gaze lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. The memory of the kiss shared with Seonghwa last night briefly crosses your mind, sparking curiosity about what it might be like to kiss the others. However, you quickly push those thoughts away, not wanting to get carried away and get your hopes up too high.

Yeosang, seemingly pleased with your reaction, gently smirks before turning back to the group. Little does he know, his actions have left you feeling even more flustered. As you watch him, you can't help but wonder how he might flirt with you and what that could lead to. The possibility of such interactions excites you, but you also remind yourself to be cautious and not read too much into it.

In his own silent moment, Yeosang decides to take some pointers from Wooyoung on flirting, hoping to make you smile and blush like this forever. The prospect of seeing your cute flustered face becomes a delightful goal, one he can't wait to achieve.

----

The late morning sun casts a golden glow on the bustling streets as you and your roommates step out of the white house. Due to the large shopping mall being a short walk away, the nine of you decide to walk there to enjoy the warm sun, the excitement in the air is palpable. You had mentioned that you needed some new clothes, and the eight men were more than eager to join you on this shopping adventure.

Walking to the mall turned out to be quite the amusing experience. As the group strolled along, you found yourself at the back, flanked by Wooyoung and San, who adamantly refused to let anyone else take their spot next to you. Their sweet insistence brought a warm blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by their attention.

Seonghwa and Mingi, not ones to back down easily, bickered with Wooyoung and San, each vying for the chance to be by your side during the walk there. The friendly competition for your company added a playful dynamic to the group, and even Hongjoong couldn't resist getting involved, trying to mediate the situation.

In the end, Hongjoong managed to calm the playful dispute, promising Seonghwa, Mingi, and the others that they could take turns to walk with you on the way back home. Although the rest of the group may have been sulking slightly at not being able to be next to you now, they all understood the importance of sharing the time with you and were happy to have their chance later.

Arriving at the grand entrance of the shopping mall, your eyes widen in awe. The place is massive, with countless stores, boutiques, and displays that promise a shopping experience like no other. You are not able to contain your excitement and feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Strolling through the mall, the group seems to split into smaller clusters, each one of your roommates offering to accompany you to different sections based on your fashion preferences. 

“Are you guys sure you don't need anything?” You question for the third time as they refuse to look in any shop that you walk past.

Upon hearing a chorus of playful "no's" filling the air, you can't help but roll your eyes with a mixture of amusement and affection. Their stubbornness to stay by your side, despite knowing it makes your heart race, only serves to make you appreciate their care and attention even more. It's endearing to see how much they value being with you, and while their determination might fluster you, it also warms your heart to know how cherished you are within the group.

When you reach a particular clothing store, which you usually shop at, you are happy to see they have sales on a lot of clothes. Making your way in, you giggle at the way the eight aimlessly follow you in. They disperse slightly, looking at many different clothing racks, searching for something that would suit you, or something they would like to see you wearing.

Wandering through the racks of clothes, you notice Wooyoung seems particularly focused. He keeps scanning the dresses with a determined expression, occasionally pulling one off the rack to examine it closely. It's clear that he's on a mission, and you can't help but wonder what he's up to.

"Hey, Wooyoung, find anything interesting?" you question, curious about his intent.

Wooyoung turns to you with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, just looking for something special," he replies cryptically.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his mysterious response. The boys exchange knowing glances, clearly in on whatever plan Wooyoung has hatched. It seems as if they have a small mission in their minds.

A little while later, Wooyoung finally emerges from the racks of dresses, triumphantly holding one up for you to see. "Look! This would look stunning on you," Wooyoung, exclaims, holding up a beautiful black dress that caught his eye. It definitely isn't your style, so you wonder as to why he would ask you to try it on.

You examine the short, form-fitting dress that Wooyoung kindly offered, you realise it's not your usual style, and you feel hesitant about trying it on, especially since it's on the sexier side and not something you'd typically wear. Before you can politely decline, San appears at your side, expressing his agreement with Wooyoung's suggestion. He wraps an arm around your shoulder in a tender gesture, encouraging you to give it a try while also assuring you that it's entirely your choice.

Touched by their compliments and support, you gently accept the dress, feeling grateful for their thoughtfulness. With a slightly doubtful smile, you make your way to the changing room, and to your surprise, you notice that all of them follow you eagerly, clearly invested in how you'll look in the dress. 

“Guys you don't all need to come.” You exclaim, chuckling at their eagerness, “it’s just a dress.”

“We have never seen you in a dress before,” Mingi replies, an adorable pout on his face, the others agreeing with him. Chuckling again, you turn around to walk into the changing room. Inside the changing room, you slip into the dress, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You realise this must've been their plan and you chuckle to yourself at the thought of them conspiring for this very moment. It gives you a boost of confidence knowing they are eager to see you dressed up nicely.

Standing in the changing room, you find yourself struggling to reach the zipper on the back of the dress, you let out a small groan of frustration. You contemplate taking the dress off and giving up on the idea of trying it on. However, in that moment, a mischievous idea crosses your mind, and a playful smirk appears on your face.

Deciding to have a little fun with the situation, you poke your head out of the changing room, leaving the zipper undone deliberately and you see eight faces waiting patiently. 

You gently call out to the men outside, "Hey, I might need a little help here."

San, Wooyoung, and the others glance your way, and their eyes widen when they notice your insinuations. Instantly, they catch on to your playful game, and a mischievous glint appears in their eyes as well.

Wooyoung quickly volunteers, stepping forward with a grin, "I'll help!"

The others slightly grumble, falling back into their seats as you allow Wooyoung to make his way into the changing room, where you hold up the dress with your arms. Noticing the way Wooyoung's eyes are chasing your form up and down, you feel a surge of confidence rush through your body. Maybe trying on this dress wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

With a teasing smile, you turn around, allowing Wooyoung to reach for the zipper. As his fingers brush against your bare back while he gently pulls up the zipper, a shiver runs down your spine, and you can't help but exchange a knowing look with him through the mirror. When his eyes meet yours, you notice the dark look coating his eyes, making your knees feel weak. 

“How does it look?” You whisper, suddenly feeling a little insecure at how tight the dress is. 

Wooyoung's fingers glide slowly from the zipper of the dress to your hips, where he gently pulls you closer against his body, his chest now pressed against your back. The proximity between you two sends a shiver through your body, and your heart races with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

His hands gently massage your hips, and Wooyoung can't help but revel in the sensation of your touch against his skin. The way your bodies fit together creates a warm and intimate connection that has him feeling drunk off of your touch. He suddenly feels immensely grateful that you trusted him to come into the dressing room, along with letting him see you in the dress first. 

“It looks amazing,” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe, he continues, “You’d look better without it.” His words cause another shiver to ripple through your body, the insinuations of his words has your head spinning.

“Wooyoung, behave.” Hongjoong’s authoritative voice sounds from behind the curtain of the dressing room and you realise that the seven on the other side must have heard what Wooyoung uttered.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Wooyoung reluctantly moves away from your body, grumbling under his breath. Once the curtain opens, you turn around to face the group, playfully twirling in the dress, feeling a newfound confidence and excitement. 

Emerging from the fitting room, you're greeted by a symphony of reactions from your roommates. Mingi and Seonghwa’s expressions border on awe, their mouths hanging slightly agape as they drink in the way the dress contours your figure. Yeosang and Jongho, aware of their own reactions, quickly avert their gaze, trying to avoid any obvious signs of their appreciation for the dress on you.

Yunho and San's widened eyes trace your silhouette, an unspoken admiration evident in their glances. They want you to feel comfortable but can't help conveying how striking you look, their stare piercing you. Hongjoong, known for his unreadable demeanour, studies you intently, his features carefully neutral. When your curious gaze meets his, he raises an eyebrow in a challenge, his lips curling into a smirk as he openly checks you out.

In a playful move, you send a teasing wink his way, a side of you he rarely witnesses. The effect is immediate, causing a noticeable flush to creep up Hongjoong's cheeks. His eyes widen slightly in surprise at your flirtatious gesture, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Your unexpected action has triggered a shift in his usually composed demeanour, stirring a rush of thoughts and feelings that he's unaccustomed to.

The contrast between your usual innocence and this unexpected flirtation leaves Hongjoong's heart racing and his mind aflutter with indecent notions. Your playfulness has caught him off guard, and it's evident in the way his cheeks continue to heat up. The dynamic between you two has shifted momentarily, and the lingering effects of your flirtatious exchange are bound to make the day even more interesting. 

"You look stunning!" Mingi exclaims, his eyes bright with admiration.

"You were right. This dress is perfect for her," San chimed in, his eyes not leaving the dress hugging your body.

“I’ll go pay for it,” Hongjoong says, getting off the chair he was comfortably resting in. 

“What? No, I'll pay.” You insist, trying to chase after Hongjoong, who just sends you a sweet smile before heading towards the exit of the fitting rooms. 

“Bring it to me when it's off, love.” he says before turning away to walk off, yet he stops and quickly turns around to meet your eyes again, swiftly he looks you up and down, before smiling again, “you look beautiful.” 

Once again, Hongjoong moves to the exit, some of the others following him, not before glancing at you one more time, to make sure the image of you in the dress stays in their minds. You attempt to follow him, not wanting him to pay for something like this. Yet, Wooyoung, who is still in the changing room, swiftly grabs your hand,  gently pulling you back into the cubicle.

“He likes to pay for things, it’s how he shows his affection, amongst other ways…” Woooyoung trails off and you can’t help but wonder what he is implying, “now, do you need help taking it off too?” 

“Wooyoung.” It is San whose voice sounds this time, causing Wooyoung to playfully roll his eyes.

It's just this dress, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes diligently observes your every gesture from across the expanse of the clothing store. A faint scowl adorns their features as they take in the scene playing out before them. Arched eyebrows frame their intent gaze, as they persist in their scrutiny, trying to think of where they've encountered you in the past. Curiously, the sight of your seemingly contented presence among the group of eight men evokes an unease within them. Finally they have found Ateez, yet they are extremely unaware as to who you are.

As the day wears on, you notice that your friends seem to be going out of their way to impress you. They help you find the perfect clothes, hold doors open for you, and even sneak in small gestures of affection, like stealing glances or offering gentle touches on your arm. Seonghwa skillfully manoeuvres his arm around your waist as the two of you walk side by side, gently tugging you closer to his side. His touch creates a sense of intimacy. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he conveys a silent closeness, a shared moment of connection that transcends words. The warmth of his body against yours and the weight of his chin on your shoulder create a comforting sensation.

"Wait, this sweater looks so cosy. You have to try it on!" Jongho insisted, handing you a soft, knitted sweater that looked like it would be perfect for chilly evenings.

"And these shoes! They would go perfectly with that dress you tried earlier," Yunho adds, bringing over a pair of elegant black shoes.

Continuing the shopping spree at the large mall, you can’t help but be flattered by their attention and affection. Every time you pause to admire an item for a little too long, one of the eight men would quickly grab it off the rack, insisting on buying it for you. It was both endearing and overwhelming to see their determination to spoil you  with gifts, no matter how hard you try to protest.

Trying on each item, you can't help but marvel at how well your roommates know your style and preferences. Their attention to detail and the effort they put into finding clothes that suit your taste makes your heart swell with gratitude.

The more the shopping bags pile up, the more you protest, telling them that they do not need to buy everything you like. Alas, your roommates are insistent, assuring you that they want to spoil you and show their appreciation for your presence in their lives.

During a quick break at a coffee shop, you find yourself sitting next to Yunho, who has been rather quiet this entire trip, it seems as if there is something on his mind, bothering him. When you look over to him, you notice he is peering at you with a fond expression. He takes a deep breath, as if he is gathering the courage to say something important, the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of red.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that... I really care about you," he begins, his voice hushed, soft and earnest , the traces of nervousness evident in his tone. The abrupt confession momentarily leaves you in a state of astonishment, as the unexpected display of affection from him causes your heart to quicken its pace. 

Throughout the day, you've been consistently taken aback by the sudden surge of affection from every man. Normally, the casual slight flirting is something you’ve become accustomed to, but now it has escalated to an intense level, and the realisation that there are deeper emotions beneath their words leaves you feeling light-headed and in a perpetual state of fluster.

"Later, can we talk, one on one, just us two? You deserve an apology and an explanation for my behaviour." Yunho continues.

“I’d love that Yunho.” You smile at the man, who looks exactly like a puppy as his eyes light up with happiness.

His confession leaves your heart pounding in your chest, and before Yunho can respond, Jongho approaches the two of you with a smile on his face. "Don't forget about me," he says playfully, though there is a hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I feel the same way. You're truly special to all of us."

Their sincere words have a profound effect on you, causing a rush of warmth to spread throughout your being. The honesty in their expressions and the depth of their feelings touch you deeply, leaving you unable to hide the telltale signs of your emotions. Your cheeks flush with a gentle heat, the emotions swirling within you.

When the day draws to a close, you leave the mall with bags filled with new clothes and hearts full of cherished memories. Realising that you are indeed fortunate to have such incredible people in your life who love you so deeply.

Making your way home, arms laden with shopping bags, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. The affectionate gestures of your roommates have touched you deeply, and you know that you are truly surrounded by people who care for you. In the end, it wasn't just about the clothes or the gifts; it was about the love and warmth that flowed between you. Settling back into the house, you can’t help but smile as you look around at your roommates, each one beaming with happiness. 

“I am going to put all this stuff away,” you exclaim, announcing your short departure.

"Hey, just so you know, dinner will be ready in about an hour or two," Yunho calls out to you as you busily move the numerous bags into your room. With a quick thumbs-up in his direction, you respond in a light-hearted manner, before disappearing behind your closed bedroom door. Your actions prompt a soft chuckle from him, finding your response quite endearing and cute.

Alone in the quiet of your room, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady the rising tide of anxiety that threatens to engulf you. Today had been a day unlike any other, filled with warmth that had, for a fleeting moment, lifted your spirits. The kindness and affection of the boys had been a balm to your soul, enveloping you in a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a while.

Reflecting on the day's events, you're struck by a poignant realisation – it was indeed one of the best days you've had in a long time. Laughter, shared moments, and the genuine care of your roommates were woven together to create memories that you'll treasure. And yet, despite the joy that had enveloped you, a shadow of apprehension had loomed over the day, casting a veil of unease over your experience.

The sensation of being watched, the lingering feeling that someone was trailing your every move, had been a constant presence in the back of your mind. It had woven its way into the fabric of your day, colouring even the happiest moments with a sense of discomfort. The weight of someone's presence, real or imagined, clung to you like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off.

Her face was everywhere and the worst thing is, you feel like you’ve seen it before.

---

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#ateez #ateez poly #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez au #poly ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #san #wooyoung #jongho #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #mingi x reader

[raaorqtpbpdy]

Made of Meat

Danny Phantom/DC (Animal Man) crossover (thank you @stealingyourbones for the prompt)

When strange, faintly glowing meat creatures start rampaging through the streets of San Diego, there's only one man to call. And when Animal Man could use a helping hand, Phantom swoops in to assist. Or, Danny Phantom and Animal Man team up to fight the Lunch Lady

Read it on AO3

[Warnings for minor violence, mentions of vomit, and repeated mentions/descriptions of raw meat]

When strange, faintly glowing meat creatures started rampaging through the streets of San Diego, there was only one man to call. 

Absorbing the power of flight from a hawk overhead, Buddy Baker, A.K.A. Animal Man soared toward downtown to confront the monsters wreaking havoc on the innocent civilians of his city, his blond hair fluttering in the wind.

By the time he arrived, the chaos was well underway. Just like the reports had claimed, several unidentified creatures were causing the brunt of the damage, each of them about four feet tall and composed entirely of raw meat, still dripping with blood and already attracting flies, with glowing red eyes and fleshy teeth. Animal Man could see pools of vomit on the sidewalks from people who had evidently been too disgusted by the creatures to hold down their lunches, but he'd seen far worse himself and wasn't bothered by the creatures' grotesque appearance.

He swooped down to snatch a little girl out of the way of one of the things and take her to the nearest screaming woman—her mother, just as he had guessed—and urged them to run. There weren't as many people downtown as Buddy would have normally expected to see at this time, probably most of them already had already run away, but a few stragglers still remained, most of them filming the incident on their phones, some hiding, none of them in immediate danger.

With his bird's eye view, Animal Man had spotted a peculiar woman in the center of the commotion. She looked confused and sickly, with greenish skin. It wasn't her appearance that bothered him, though. Something about her felt off, and it unsettled the hero in a way he couldn't quite put into words. Using the sharp ears of a bat from the nearby zoo, he could hear her even from high in the sky, demanding to know where she was and what was for lunch.

Whoever she was, Buddy was pretty sure she was the woman in charge, and these meat gremlins were her doing. If he could knock her out, or better yet, peacefully convince her to stop, her creatures would stop too.

With the strength of a charging rhino, Animal Man plowed through her meaty minions with little trouble and slammed his whole body into her, sending her flying a few feet to land sprawled on the ground. He rushed forward to pin her so she couldn't get away, and it was then that he began to realize what was so off about her.

Her skin was cold and green, her eyes glowed red, and her clothes were about forty years out of date. But even more strange that that, he didn't feel any connection to her through the Red. The Red connected all animal life, from the tiniest single-celled organism, to the biggest blue whale, and humans were included in that. Through the Red, Animal Man could absorb the powers of any living creature. 

Not this woman, though.

She looked human, and acted human... but she wasn't human.

Animal man dug deeper, trying to feel out a connection to the Green, or the Rot. It was harder for him to sense them, but all three elements were connected, and they encompassed all living things, even after death.

Except for this mysterious woman.

She wasn't fauna, or flora, or decay. And now that he was feeling through the Red, he realized that her constructs weren't connected to it either, even though they looked like they could have crawled right out of it moments before they showed up here. Buddy didn't know how that was possible, but right now, what she was didn't matter half as much as stopping her.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore," he said firmly, "but you have to stop what you're doing, or I'll be forced to. I can't let you keep attacking innocent people with your creatures. It has to stop." 

The woman scowled and stood up, her body passing right through Animal Man like he was made of air, and a chill ran down his spine and he shuddered as he fell a few inches onto the asphalt below.

"What the...?" He tried to grab her again, but he couldn't even touch her. His hands passed right through her, like he was trying to catch smoke.

"You think you can stop me?!" the woman demanded, her hair standing up and writhing like snakes on her head. The meat monsters turned as one and began to converge on Animal Man. "Today's menu is doom, and now, it's lunchtime!"

"It's four-thirty!"

Animal Man snapped his head up toward the sound of the new voice, and saw a teenager flying into view. He wore a black and white jumpsuit, had white hair, and the green glow of his eyes was visible even from a distance. The teen rocketed down and slammed his fists right into the strange woman's face, sending her skidding backwards.

"You!" she hissed, her eyes widening and pulsing red—it was terrifying in person, but Buddy couldn't help the thought that it was reminiscent of a really angry Loony Tunes character.

Immediately, her creatures turned their attention away from Animal Man, and toward the newcomer. Evidently, she and him had a history. And she'd determined that the kid was a higher priority than Buddy was.

"That's right, Lunch Lady, it's me again," the kid said, grabbing a thermos that was hanging off his belt. "And I'm here to tell you that the only thing on the menu for you today is soup!"

Whatever he planned to do with that thermos, he didn't get the chance, as one of the meat gremlins morphed its arm into a long whip and knocked it away from him.

"Ew!" the kid said, dropping a few feet to punch the nearest creature and then dry-heaving for a second. "Are these things raw? Why—eugh!" he cut himself off with a shudder as another one got close and he had to punch it. Clearly the creatures were not his bag.

"Hey kid!" Animal Man shouted, ready to offer his help.

"It's Phantom," the kid shouted back. "Wait, who're you?"

"Animal Man," he replied. "I'll keep the meat things occupied if you can deal with her."

"You sure, dude?" Phantom flew back out of the meat things' reach with a grimace, and dodged the sprays of blood they spewed up after him looking almost as green as the Lunch Lady. "These things are pretty gross. Way grosser than the last time I fought 'em."

"I've handled grosser than them," Buddy assured. "They're not a problem—but I can't fight someone I can't touch."

Phantom turned slightly to look at the Lunch Lady, who was laughing triumphantly, and got splashed in the back of the head by one of the meat creatures still bombarding him. He yelped in disgust, and Buddy pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

"Alright, deal!" Phantom agreed, wiping the back of his head with a gloved hand. "I'll leave 'em to you, just don't let them merge with each other, or her, they become a much bigger problem that way."

"Got it!" 

Animal Man summoned up some elephant strength, leopard agility and the reflexes of a fly and ran at the creatures. The force of his punches caused them to burst apart instantly, and in the time it took one to reform itself, he could take down three more.

Meanwhile, Phantom shot upward, firing a green beam at the Lunch Lady. His head turned frantically, like he was looking for something, but he didn't seem to find it. The Lunch Lady screamed as he dive-bombed her again, this time sending her through a wall—the wall itself undamaged. She came back through it moments later, back on her feet and angrier than ever. 

As much as he wanted to keep an eye on the kid to make sure he didn't get hurt, Buddy still had to focus on his own fight. Phantom was clearly familiar with this enemy, had apparently fought her before, and he seemed like he could handle himself. None of that stopped Buddy from worrying. None of his worrying changed the fact that he had a job to do.

In his moment of distraction, one of the creatures slammed into the side of Animal Man's knee, knocking him down. He used his elephant strength to throw it off and watched it splatter into a bloody, fleshy mass against a concrete wall. 

As he rolled over to get back on his feet and resume the fight, he saw the thermos Phantom had dropped. It had rolled out of sight under the bus stop bench. That must've been what the kid was looking for! Although Animal Man had no idea what Phantom could need it for, he darted forward like a cheetah on all fours and snatched the thermos up.

"Hey Phantom!" he shouted, jumping to his feet and kicking another creature into pieces. "You need this, right?"

Phantom turned, and grinned widely when he saw what his new ally was holding. Animal Man threw it up to him and he caught it easily and uncapped it right away, aiming it at the Lunch Lady.

Animal Man punched out another meat gremlin as a blue light shone from inside the thermos, and the Lunch Lady screamed and shouted in protest as she was sucked inside. As soon as the cap was back on the thermos, the remaining creatures collapsed into piles of raw meat, covered in rocks and dirt and buzzing flies. How this mess would get cleaned up was anyone's guess.

Fight ended, Phantom flew down to where Animal Man was standing, surrounded by a ring of red meat and plucked poultry, but did not touch down on the ground. A strategic choice, although it was a bit too late for the other hero to do the same.

"Eugh, I smell like a butcher shop and I have entrails in my hair," Animal Man commented, sniffing his sleeve with a grimace. "My wife isn't gonna so much as wave hello until I take a shower, and it's gonna be hell getting the stench outta my suit."

"Oh, uh... here." 

Phantom put his hand on Buddy's shoulder, and a cold empty sensation wracked his body for a few seconds. All the gross chunks and fluids dropped to the ground, falling through him like he was made of air, just like the Lunch Lady had moved through him earlier. When Phantom took his hand away, Buddy was clean. Even the smell didn't seem to be coming from him anymore, although it still definitely surrounded him.

"Wow, thanks," Buddy said, marveling at the distinct lack of red stains on his white gloves which had been absolutely soaked in it a moment before. "That trick must come in pretty useful for you."

"Yeah, well, it's the least I could do after you helped me out," Phantom said. His shoulders hunched and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It was all my fault the Lunch Lady attacked in the first place. I was stupid and forgot to make sure the thermos was empty before I left Amity Park."

"Hey, you're not stupid; don't say that. Everyone makes mistakes, what's important is that you were able to fix it," Animal Man argued. 

Phantom smiled gratefully, and it wasn't until he took his hand away from his neck that he seemed to remember the splatter of blood and juices he'd gotten from one of the creatures and he wrinkled his nose at the red stain on his own glove. He hardly seemed to think about it as he turned himself intangible like he had to Buddy before and let the viscera fall to the sidewalk with a splat.

"So... what was she anyway?" Buddy asked, doing his best to keep a straight face. "The Lunch Lady I mean. She definitely wasn't human, I could tell that much."

"Oh, she was a ghost," Phantom replied. "I'm a ghost, too, but I'm a good guy, I swear. Sorry, I forget not a lot of people have seen ghosts outside of Amity Park. They're super common where I come from."

"A ghost, huh?"

Animal Man considered that. It would make sense. A ghost was dead, but not decaying, not made of flesh or vegetation. Not fauna, not flora, not rot. It tracked with what he had sensed from the woman before. But if Phantom was a ghost too, that meant he'd died at about the same age Buddy's own son, Cliff, had, and that sent a pang of heartache through the man's chest.

One thing didn't make sense, though. Phantom claimed to be a ghost, like the Lunch Lady, but unlike with her, Buddy could sense Phantom through the Red. It was a thin connection, like the kid was hanging onto it by a thread, but it was a solid one, too. If this kid really was a ghost, he wasn't the same as the one he'd just trapped in that thermos of his.

For a moment, Buddy thought about pressing for answers, but he quickly decided against it. It could be that the truth was too personal, or embarrassing, or even dangerous for Phantom to reveal, especially to a virtual stranger, even one who'd helped him out. Besides everyone was entitled to their secrets. Instead, Animal Man smiled at the kid and clapped him on the back.

"That's pretty cool," he said. "Say, do ghosts eat? You should come over to my place for dinner. After a hard-fought battle like that, I'd say you deserve it."

"You can eat after fighting those things?" Phantom looked down at what remained of the meat creatures and gagged.

"Trust me, if I wasn't already a vegetarian, I would be after this," Buddy replied. "My wife's making some meat-free lasagna, and we always have tons of leftovers. She usually doesn't like me taking hero stuff home with me, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind in this case."

"She knows you're a hero?" 

The open shock on Phantom's face was a bit of a surprise, but then again, he had said he was from out of town. Just because Buddy was often swarmed by local paparazzi, didn't mean he was any more than regionally famous.

"Everyone knows," he said with a shrug. "I don't keep my identity a secret. It can get annoying sometimes, but I don't really have any reason to. I'm not one of the big-shots, like Batman and Wonder-Woman. You're not from around here, so I bet you never even heard of Animal Man before today."

"Well... no...."

"Exactly," Buddy made sure to grin wide enough that the kid knew there were no hard feelings about it. "So what do you say? You coming over for dinner, or what?"

"I'd love to, but I can't," Phantom said apologetically. "I have to deal with all this meat and then my—uh... I just have other plans tonight."

"You need help with the clean up?"

Phantom frowned down at the piled of meat still surrounding the two of them. 

Maybe this really hadn't been the best place to discuss dinner plans. Man, Buddy really was desensitized to this kinda stuff wasn't he? For a guy who didn't eat meat, he sure spent a lot of time surrounded by it, both in the Red, and now here.

"Nah," Phantom decided finally. "I think I can just turn the ground intangible and phase everything down under the street level so it can decompose."

"Just turn the ground intangible, huh?" Animal Man huffed a light laugh and shook his head. "Yeah, alright, if you're sure. I should get going anyway. Stay safe, kiddo. Maybe I'll see you around again before you head back home."

"Uh..." Phantom blinked owlishly at him. "Y-yeah... you uh... stay safe too."

Animal Man smiled and nodded, and took off toward his home, borrowing the power of flight from a pigeon on a telephone wire. The way Phantom had reacted, it was almost like no one had ever said that to him before. Stay safe.

Where had he said he was from? Amity Park?

Maybe Animal Man should keep tabs on him from now on, just in case. After all, ghost or not, he was still just a teenager, and all heroes needed allies from time to time.

#dpxdc #crossover #fic #things i wrote #I have way more ideas for DP/animal man crossovers so this fic will likely be the first of many

[charlosvibesonly]

New Romantics

A Max Verstappen Imagine

Pairing : Max Verstappen x fem! reader

Part 1

A chilly evening at Max's cozy home, lights casting a warm glow on the walls. Max and Y/N are cuddled on the plush couch, their laughter and the occasional purring of the cats creating a comforting atmosphere. The soft hum of the TV plays in the background.

Y/N: (teasingly) "Your cats seem to like me more than you do, Max."

Max: (grinning) "Well, maybe they know something I don't."

Y/N chuckles, leaning in for a kiss, but Max's expression shifts, clouded by the recent media storm.

Max: (sighs) "You know, sometimes I feel like they're right. Like I'm just a guy in a fast car."

Y/N: (softly) "Max, don't let them get to you. You're an incredible driver. Your dad would be proud."

Max: (looking away) "He always pushed me. Said I had to be the best. But lately, it feels like I'm drowning in expectations."

Y/N reaches out, taking Max's hand

Y/N: "My mom was the same. She pushed me to be strong, independent. But it's okay to lean on someone, Max. You don't have to carry the weight alone."

Max: (meeting her gaze) "I want to be the best, for him, for us. But it's hard."

Y/N: "You're already the best, Max. Not just on the track, but in here." She places her hand on his heart.

Max leans in, forehead touching Y/N's

Max: "I don't say it enough, but having you by my side... it makes all of this bearable."

Y/N: (smiling) "That's what partners are for, right?"

They share a lingering kiss, the connection deepening.

Days pass, their love evolving into a comfortable routine. However, the weight of schedules and the lack of spontaneity begin to strain their relationship.

Y/N, dressed in her black dress is enjoying a lively party with friends. Laughter fills the air as they gather in a chic rooftop bar, overlooking the city's skyline.

She runs into Lando.

As the night progresses, Y/N and Lando find themselves engrossed in conversation, reminiscing about races and sharing personal anecdotes.

Lando: "You and Max, huh? The power couple of the track. How's it going?"

Y/N: (grinning) "It's like navigating a racetrack blindfolded, Lando. Fast, unpredictable, and occasionally we hit a few bumps."

Lando: (teasingly) "Well, as long as you're not swapping helmets with anyone else."

Y/N laughs, her eyes flickering with a playful spark.

Y/N: "No helmet swaps, I promise. Just the usual chaos and occasional drama."

Lando: "Drama, you say? Spill the tea, Y/N. I'm all ears."

Y/N leans in, sharing a whispered detail about the media frenzy surrounding Max, her voice mixed with amusement and concern.

Lando: (raising an eyebrow) "Media troubles? That's a new one. But hey, Max can handle it, right?"

Y/N: (nodding) "He's trying, but sometimes the pressure gets to him. And honestly, I miss him when he's away practicing."

They clink glasses, the distant city lights providing a picturesque backdrop.

Lando: "Speaking of which, where is Max tonight? Training hard, I presume?"

Y/N: (sighing) "Yeah, he's in the zone. Sometimes I wish he'd take a breather, but the championship dreams are driving him."

The night unfolds, and Y/N finds herself torn between the joy of her friends' company and the absence of Max.

Later, when the party begins to wind down, Y/N receives a text from Max.

Max: Hey, how's the party? Missing you.

Y/N: It's good, but not the same without you. Miss you too.

Y/N returns to her hotel room, and Max is back from practice. The atmosphere is tense as they face each other.

Max: (looking at his phone) "Care to explain this?"

Y/N: (confused) "What are you talking about?"

Max shows her the viral picture – Y/N whispering into Lando's ear, smiles frozen in a moment of intimacy.

Max: "This, Y/N! People are saying you're cheating on me."

Y/N: (shocked) "What? Max, it's not what it looks like. Lando's a friend, and we were just talking. Someone must've misunderstood."

Max, fueled by the pressure of upcoming races and the online accusations, struggles to control his frustration.

Max: "Misunderstood? You're whispering into his ear! How do you expect me to feel, seeing this crap?"

Y/N: (defensive) "You know I'd never cheat on you, Max. This is ridiculous. We were just having a conversation. It was harmless."

Max, however, finds it hard to brush off the viral image.

Max: (angry) "Harmless? Do you know how it feels to see people question your relationship? To doubt if the person you care about is staying true?"

Y/N: (emotional) "I hate that you're hurting, Max. But I won't let baseless rumors ruin us. We need to trust each other."

Max, in a fit of frustration, paces around the room.

Max: "Trust? Easy for you to say. I'm out there pushing myself to the limit, and this is what I get in return?"

Y/N: (teary-eyed) "This isn't about trust issues, Max. It's about us, about weathering storms together. But if you can't handle that..."

The room falls silent, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

Max: (softening) "Y/N, I... I didn't mean to lash out. It's just, everything's getting to me."

Y/N: (whispers) "I get it, Max. But we can't let the world tear us apart. We have something real."

In a cozy, dimly lit restaurant in London, tucked away from the bustling streets. Max and Y/N sit across from each other, a mixture of emotions in the air.

Max: (nervously playing with his napkin) "Y/N, we've been through a lot. Ups and downs, fights and kisses. And I wouldn't change any of it for the world."

Y/N: (smiling softly) "Me neither. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been our rollercoaster."

Max takes a deep breath, his eyes locked onto hers.

Max: "I've been thinking a lot about us, about our future. And, well, I can't imagine it without you."

Y/N: (curious) "Max, what are you...?"

Max interrupts her, getting down on one knee, a small velvet box in hand.

Max: "Y/N, I can't promise it'll always be easy. Hell, knowing us, it probably won't be. But I promise to be everything you need and more. Will you marry me?"

Y/N, surprised and overwhelmed, hesitates for a moment before a smile spreads across her face.

Y/N: (teasingly) "Max Verstappen, getting down on one knee? Never thought I'd see the day."

Max: (grinning) "Well, there's a first time for everything."

Y/N chuckles, her eyes sparkling with emotion.

Y/N: "Alright then, Max. You drive me crazy, but... yes, I'll marry you."

Max's face lights up with joy. He slips the ring onto her finger, and they share a passionate kiss, sealing their promise amid the romantic ambiance of the London night.

Max: "To us, Y/N. Ready for whatever comes our way?"

Y/N: "Ready as I'll ever be, Max."

They clink glasses, surrounded by the warmth of their love and the city's twinkling lights, ready to face the new chapter they've just written together.

#max verstappen #f1 #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #lando norris

[kamisama1kiss]

don’t mind me, just an anon dropping the idea of Descendants AU Lloyd Garmadon into your head so I’m not the only one suffering with the idea of it

...Wait, this is smart. Since we all know who his father is 🤭 that is so absolutely yummy! I saw this at about 5 am. And had a hard time falling asleep after wanting to see more of this AU. Whoever you are, you're an absolute genius

~~~

Lloyd Garmadon { Rotten to the core }

Platonic headcanons

~

• I can definitely see him wear a lot of dark greens, black and gold details alongside some bone design along his outfit, taking insporation from when he was younger

• He is on the VK island. You can't change my mind

• Being one of the chosen ones to go alongside Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlose to leave for Arudon (if we follow the storyline)

• It took him a lot longer to get used to all the none stealing, discovery of his new favourite food which would be sweets

• Mostly silent or scoffing at others with a nutural expression, but eventually, when getting closer to actually him considering you a friend som smaller hints of smile will be present

• Let only specific people touch him since he had little to nothing or not at all a good connection with his father and his mother, it made him feel weak which is a big no no

• A ton of stolen candy bars hidden under his pillow from the day

• Had naturally a mystery aura around him, being closest to the four other VK with a few others eventually around the school

• Would use his Oni aspect of him whenever anyone gets on his nerves to scare them off or just intimate the person

• Would constantly be on the move. He is everywhere yet nowhere at the same time

Romantic

~

•Definitely the trope of you fell first he fell harder

• It took MONTHS for him to even know what the things he felt meant. After listening in on Evie and Mals' conversation, he would understand what he was infant having romantic feelings

•Definitely in denial, having never felt it before, which did scare him even more. Pushing you away at all cost

•The only reason why the relationship even started had to be because you asked/told him that you felt romantic twords him

• Still in denying it, but decided to try after thinking a few days in a row about it

"I suppose it can't hurt.. trying? Just be aware that it will not be a walk in the park."

"I understand that very well... even went through the thought many of time, I want this"

• The answer only made him feel more secure about his decision and felt safe to let you in, his heart having never gone this fast before, even from all the danger he has gone through

• He stole things for you just because it reminded him of you and thought you'd like it. Knowing it would make you smile made it worth getting in trouble

• No PDA whatsoever, but if lucky, maybe a little pinky finger holding in the start at least. It took months of resuring and convincing, but now, at least, he'd be willing to hold hand. Maybe even a hand on the small of their back

• If anyone says or looked at his s/o weirdly, he wouldn't hesitate to put the person in their place

• Prefers sitting in silence and just comfortably exist next to one another under the moon and stars

• Playing with his hair would simply put him to sleep within seconds. Any sort of touch from his s/o would immediately relax him. Being on guard and tense from being used to the island

I am tempted to make some sort of fanfiction of this AU 🤭🤭 if there are any suggestions, I'd happily write them of our very beloved evil oni boy.

I've been sat here for an hour, just giggling to myself

#headcanons #lloyd garmadon x reader #lego ninjago #ninjago lloyd garmadon #lloyd garmadon au #descendants au #lloyd x reader #ninjago #ninjago headcanons #Lloyd garmadon descendants au

[bythepen98]

Doodles || Hawks

Loosely based on "A Gilded Cage is Still a Cage" by @cuspidgoddess (great work! I enjoyed it)

[Long; tldr at the bottom] Thoughts while I drew this, and disclaimer: I'm no author, just someone who can't shut up sometimes when inspired

Family LoV and complicated relationship with the HPSC. Not quite bashing like in the fic, but still shady and contributed to Keigo's lack of self-worth and tendency to keep a tight leash on his more mutant instincts until Tokoyami and the league encouraged him out of it.

Dabi spoils him and calls him pretty bird. At this point, it's a dabihawks headcanon that I'm sticking to.

searched google: "do hawks mate for life?" Answer: if conditions allow, then yes. OKAY THEN. Noted

It's hard to say what the future will hold what with Keigo's life being a complete mess, but he's willing to latch on to Dabi for as long as he's allowed to. Forever, preferably. If the way he melts into putty under Dabi's hands instead of flinching away from it is any indication. Tokoyami being the first person he allowed himself giving physical affection to and that was more of a paternal connection than the fluttery feeling he gets whenever he thinks of Dabi's blue, blue eyes.

Been enchanted with him since the early days when they've first met and Dabi finally looked at him with a less wary/hostile gaze. When the moonlight glinted onto his staples just right (blame his bird fueled fascination with shiny things), and the low, albeit sarcastic croon of acknowledgement from the man, he was completely gone. The chirp -with a pathetically pinning lilt to it- that rose out of him in response was embarrassing but worth it when it made Dabi chuckle.

He'd totally understand if Dabi woke up one day and decided he was more trouble than it was worth though. No, really. He'd probably cry and hopefully not pluck too many of his feathers again out of stress but he'll live. He's made of sterner stuff, been trained to handle sterner stuff. It's fine.

His handlers have always commented on how troublesome he was when they thought he couldn't hear him. The league told him they were lying though, that he was perfect just as he is and, obvious and ironic circumstances aside, made a great hero, but surely there was a kernel of truth to it? Not all of it could be lies.

Someday, he doesn't know when, but someday for sure, the growing affection he can see in Dabi's eyes will fade away and would be laced with annoyance the way some of the few, nicer handlers had during his brief time with them training pre-debut. It's inevitable.

Maybe Dabi would get annoyed with his constant chirping, trills and whistles. Maybe he'll get tired of seeing his bedroom cluttered with trinkets Keigo would collect, his closet with a significant amount of clothes missing and said clothes occupying the bed, arranged in a way that soothed Keigo's brain but probably disgruntled and looked like a mess to Dabi even if he didn't show it. Maybe he'll get tired of lugging him around and then tell him to use his legs or wings when both are perfectly functioning and aren't there for decoration. Keigo just can't help that he likes being carried around sometimes. Dabi indulges it but surely, he'll eventually reach his limit? Maybe he'll scratch Dabi's sensitive skin by accident too many times with his talons and stupid inability to NOT grip on things whenever he's excited or stressed and get a face full of flames for it. Honestly, he's surprised it hasn't happened yet considering how the man acts with other people.

Dabi's gentleness with him? Probably a fluke that wouldn't last. He figures he just looks too pathetic to get angry at. He figures the rest of the league view him similarly too and indulges him the same way one would indulge a stray, enough to feed it and keep it warm a few times but will ultimately move on to live their lives. Never mind that he's there to "spy" on them when he's doing a trash job at it. They probably already know but indulge him anyway out of pity. Whatever it is, Keigo is still grateful with the attentiveness and care they've showed him so far but will back away once he sees that he's overstayed his welcome.

At least he still has Tokoyami by his side who looks up to him and sees him like an older brother, maybe even a parent. Enhanced because of the mutant bird traits they share and the loneliness Tokoyami would see hidden underneath Keigo's smile.

Sometimes Tokoyami is swept up by Keigo's cheerful public persona when they're both out patrolling the streets and being bombarded by people, admittedly gets annoyed by it when sweet, doting Keigo turns into Hawks and makes him run after the hero like the early days of his internship when they weren't as close and misunderstandings were everywhere. But then he'd remember the sad tilt to his expression and the crushing hug before leaving with a red feather tucked into his pocket whenever they have to separate at any length of time. His own loneliness at not having anyone to welcome him back home making his and Dark Shadow's heart hurt.

Tokoyami still doesn't know what to make of Keigo's relationship with the league, dreads the aftermath of it all really if it turns sour (Dark Shadow is more optimistic than him and calls him out for his paranoia), but he'll always be in Keigo's corner. Just give him a few more years and he'll be strong enough to protect Keigo against any villain or hspc-shaped threats on his own and from the shadows, although he'll grudgingly allow Dabi to get a few hits in since it seems like he'll be a more permanent fixture in their life if the man has anything to say about it.

tldr: ooc fluff, LoV as family. not quite HPSC bashing but close, Birdbros, or in this au, more of a parental connection between Keigo and Tokoyami because *instincts*. Google says that hawks mate for life if the condition allows it and Keigo just so happened to find said mate in Dabi, a Dabi who spoils him, calls him pretty and likes to run his fingers through his feathers. HOWEVER, Keigo is sad, insecure and blind to the idea that whatever he has with Dabi (and the league) will last and will continue to latch on to them until he feels like it's no longer welcomed. -insert unreliable narrator angst fest here- Jokes on him because Dabi would gladly burn the whole world for him if he asked but is curbing the idea because Keigo still wants to save people and his pseudo son Tokoyami is a fledgling hero. Dabi's youngest brother is also a fledging hero but he'd really like not to think about that too much.

#fanart #hawks #mha hawks #hawks fanart #keigo takami #dabihawks #some togachako too #mha fanart #bnha fanart #doodles #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bird like Hawks #simp -mate for life- Hawks #League of villains as family #ooc fluff #oh and birdbros #Hawks and Tokoyami found family fluff #“Mama keigo” - Dark Shadow; courtesy of the fic #tokoyami hides his face in embarrassment #Hawks cooing over his bird children #nesting habits #this was longer than expected

[jakes3resin]

gosh!! magic au!! theseus! chaos of having at the base and it’s like two bucky. gale would definitely be shocked!

That au really hit me like a fever dream, my dear anon. I was thinking about the Twin Cleven AU and the Blond Bucky bit I added when I remembered I tacked on a tiny Theseus Easter egg. 30 minutes later I had Magic AU in my drafts with no memory of writing it.

But I've sketched out some thoughts for you and for those who are interested (please keep in mind the last time I watched Fantastic Beasts was a few years ago so I don't remember much):

Bucky's a Scamander by his father (Theseus and Newt's uncle) but goes by his mother's maiden name as he was taken in by her brother and his wife.

Both his parents were magic, but they died near the end of the First World War. Bucky stayed with the Scamanders for a little while before eventually going to America before he turned 4. Theseus was very close with him, and they were occasionally mistaken as father and son due to the age difference (Theseus was a war hero during the First World War if I remember correctly?) (Also that could be an AU now that I think about it but not rn)

He has a bit of a British accent, comes out more when he's using magic. Or when he's around his cousins. First time Buck hears it, he just about faints.

Went to Hogwarts solely because his parents went there, and he wanted to feel close to them. Not sure what House but leaning Hufflepuff. He seems like he'd be happy there.

Enjoyed the school somewhat, but he dealt with some bullying due to his American upbringing as well as some of the students still remembered Newt and bullied him for that connection.

His favorite animal is still the unicorn. It's just not extinct like he said to Buck. What can I say? Every Scamander is good with magical animals.

Had an accidental falling out with the Scamander family who wanted him to move permanently to England and stay with them during his schooling, but he prefered spending his summers in America and winter holidays in the castle.

Came home before he turned 18 (I guess started Hogwarts young for his grade? Idk.) And decided to blend in to Muggle/No-Maj society by going to college and later joining the Air Force.

After Bucky's revelation to the RAF pilots, one of them writes home saying he met Theseus Scamander's cousin! This gets passed through Wizarding society until it lands in the ears of Theseus who didn't have a clue his cousin was in England, let alone serving in a Muggle unit. And after hearing about the death toll, he gets scared.

Theseus resolves to pop down there and check in on his cousin. And unknowingly reeks havoc upon Thorpes Abbotts.

Looks like this:

(This is in a nebulous point before Curtis' death because he deserves to be alive my baby boy)

Literally everyone that sees him is flabbergasted because 1) Major Egan is handsome but he never dresses like That and 2) Major Egan is supposed to be flying back from a mission right now. Word travels through base, and it's alight with rumors.

Theseus gets dragged to Kidd's office because literally everyone is freaking out, and he's quite confused why everyone keeps calling him Bucky. He tries to explain that he's Theseus and that he's here to see his cousin John, but every time he speaks the people around him all jump (its cause his accent spooks them. That accent should not be coming from someone who looks so much like Bucky in their mind. Boy are they in for a rude awakening.)

Bucky flies back in, and after interrogation, he doesn't even get a chance to change clothes before he's being dragged to Kidd's office. Buck and a few of the boys follow utterly confused. If Bucky's in trouble, Buck's not just gonna stand by.

Theseus happily greets Bucky when he walks into the office, and the pair have an okay reunion before Theseus states that he's here to check on his younger cousin, heavily implying that he's here to transfer Bucky to a British outfit as he's a British citizen and their family connections want to keep him safe (really a Wizard one but among Muggles he's better at speaking around the issue)

Thus an argument breaks out. Bucky's accent also comes out, and nearly everyone around him loses their minds.

Buck really, really does not want to talk about what that accent does to him. It's confusing and concerning. (Clegan are together, but when your partner busts out the London Accent, well that's a gamechanger)

Anyways idk where it goes after that, but now everyone has to deal with the fallout that Bucky is British and has a nearly identical cousin who pops in to check on him.

#asks #magic au #that was fun thanks anon #tho now i've really got to go back to a/b/o fic and write #clegan #mota #masters of the air #bucky egan #john egan #john bucky egan #theseus scamander

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

How differently do you think Tobias would act in the later books if the events of #33 had never happened? a few of the others mention that tobias seems different after his torture and it's definitely clear that it impacted him more than he can acknowledge, but I'm curious as to your take on how much it changed his behavior

It's honestly hard to say, if only because so many of the books #34 - #52 are ghost-written and therefore suffer from inconsistencies in places. For me the biggest moment of "whoa, something changed" is the opening of #41 where Jake notes that Tobias just takes off after the battle is over, and that a few months ago it would've been unlike him not to check on Rachel or Ax.

For me, that helps to explain Tobias’s relative lack of engagement with Rachel in #42 and #48. Even though she narrates both books, they're more focused on her relationships with Cassie and Marco and Jake, while Tobias is kind of just there. #48 especially barely mentions him, which is a glaring contrast to all the other books (#22, #7, etc) where Rachel puts him as the most important person in her life. It could be that he has trouble connecting with the others, and isn't able to maintain that relationship as well as he'd like.

The other place where Tobias’s lack of reaction has always stood out to me is #40. Ax says people who choose to be nothlits are "cowards", Cassie hastens to add that she doesn't think Gafinilan would do such a thing, and Tobias is just... there. He doesn't say anything in response. Same goes for the scene where Ax and Jake and Gafinilan talk about stigma against people who can't morph. My cynical Doylist suspicion is that the ghost writers forgot about him, but the Watsonian explanation could be that he's really checked out as a result of being traumatized and doesn't have the spoons to engage.

So: to circle back, I think Tobias would probably be more tuned in to his relationships with his girlfriend and his shorm, and better able to support them, if he hadn't experienced #33.

#animorphs #tobias fangor #trauma #emohawk #mentions of torture #animorphs meta

[dirtytransmasc]

random avatar hc's cause I'm bored. (these fall closer to canon, and not for one of my au's, so like... vaguely 'normal' spider, not so nice neytiri, etc. unless specified otherwise)

spider and tuk are besties. the way she sorta hides behind spider when she blows a raspberry at lo'ak? she knows he'd take her side in a fight. spider will never tell her she's "too big" for anything, he literally works out partly because he wants to be able to carry her for as long as possible. he goes out of his way to play with her when her siblings ditch her. take whole days to just follow tuk around and do what she wants to do. she made him a songchord and goes to sit with eywa with him so he won't be alone. doesn't get why people don't like him, cause she thinks he's the best. so she tries to make him happy when they're together. pisses neytiri off, cause she always wants to spend time with spider, even when she tells tuk not to (it makes spider sweat bullets, cause tuk refuses to let go of his hand and neytiris just glaring at him, and he almost wants to beg her to let go)

ao'nung is also tuks best friend. they bully each other, but get offended if anyone insinuates they don't like each other. she's still mad at him for being mean when they first met, won't let him live it down, even years after the fact. braids his hair all. the. time, he can't get her to stop touching it.

even outside of my blessed spider au, spider has connected with eywa, cause she accepted him no matter what, he just doesn't tell anyone. she knows how to connect to humans now, via her roots, so she connects with the boy. he feels like if he points it out he'll get in trouble or he'll be 'using eywa' to get what he wants (which isn't true, but the boy has some irrational fears cause ✨trauma✨)

ao'nung and rotxo 'dated' as kids, like schoolyard crush type dating, cause they were really young. it lasted a few years (on and off) from like 6ish to 10/11, but to this day, they're still very close. like, its odd to find them not touching each other or cuddling or holding hands. they're inseparable and have no clue what personal space is, at all. they still say "I love you", kiss eachother's cheeks/foreheads, ao'nung is possessive, roxto is always talking about him. they're platonic they swear (not a soul believes them).

neteyam doesn't want to be chief, sometimes he hates being jakes son because of the weight on his shoulders, but he doesn't complain cause he doesn't want to be a disappointment, and he doesn't want to watch his siblings struggle to carry the weight themselves.

spider self soothes by brushing a thumb over his own cheek or running his fingers through his hair or holding his own hand. he's so insanely touch-starved its not even funny.

he's also a maladaptive daydreamer. I got no solid reason, it just feels right. gotta deal with his loneliness and metric ton of big feelings in one way or another.

he also feels the urge to talk to himself, a lot, especially when he's out alone in the woods. he just happens to think the ato'kirina are a coincidence (eywa listens to him attentively like a mother should).

spider tends to 'ignore' signs of eywa when it comes to himself, because he can't accept that eywa would ever wish to connect to or guide him. (its a running theme in my hc's)

after sorting out their drama, ao'nung is really close to lo'ak. after neteyam's death he sorta becomes his big brother. their dynamic is a mess, but they make it work. ao'nung is sorta like a punching bag for lo'ak a lot of the time (like hopper and mike in that one scene in season 2 of stranger things). ao'nung hates watching him mourn (he wishes he had died instead. for more then one reason, but that's a big one). other times they're super sweet on each other, play roughhousing, just hanging out, lightly teasing one another. they're my messy boys.

kiri refuses to pick between spider and rotxo. they don't mind. polycule for the win.

spider isn't immediately accepted by the metkayina, but he tries really really hard to prove himself, and does make some sort of name for himself. they may not all like him, but they respect him.

spider learned to treat bullet wounds after having to sit behind neteyam, staring at the bullet hole, and not knowing what to do. he blames himself for neteyams death, but he thinks that if he knew what to do, if hadn't frozen, if he'd known what to do, maybe he would have lived.

ao'nung has a disproportionate level of big brother instinct, relative to his general asshole personality. he's insanely protective of anything smaller them then him, even if he himself hates it. aka, even before he accepted spider into his friend group, or the village as a whole, he was instinctively protective, embarrassingly so. still kicks himself for getting lo'ak hurt (he meant to scare the piss out of him sure, but he never wanted him to get hurt) and he genuinely cringes, one of those full body shakes type cringes, when he thinks about it. he hates its.

spider doesn't know how to properly show affection after always being denied it, having to suppress it (not being able to affectionate with the other sully kids in front of the elders), etc. so now he sorta just struggles. the sully kids don't really notice how he hides his affections, how he's timid about it, what he considers to be affection. the metkayina kids are not used to it, they are genuinely concerned. spider is genuinely afraid to be nice to people when not in private. he's deathly afraid of receiving affection in front of others.

tsireya and ao'nung (sorta rotxo too, but he's dating him, so its kinda different) forcibly adopt him after a while, they can't help it. he's like a kicked puppy, its hard not to love him.

roxto's grandma (who raised him, canon, cause i said so) and all his brothers and sisters (he has a big family, mostly adopted siblings,) love spider, so he has a little makeshift family.

spider would, whether he was accepted as one or not, become a warrior after what happened that night in the forest (getting kidnapped) and what happened on the ship/to neteyam. he won't let himself be taken off guard again, he won't let the people he loves, even if they don't love him back, get hurt again. he vows his life to the na'vi, to pandora, to Eywa herself; he will die before he loses someone else.

spider and lo'ak orange cat energy, kiri and tuk have tortie energy (sassy queen), roxto is a tuxedo cat, ao'nung and neteyam are black cats, tsireya has tabby vibes (sweet but sassy). (fight with the wall)

#love how this started super fluffy and sweet and just got progressively angstier. ended it on a sweet note though #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #spider socorro #avatar 2 #ao'nung #tsireya #roxto #kiri sully #lo'ak sully #neteyam sully #tuk sully

[chocodile]

Answering this in TWO PARTS because I have a lot of thoughts! CLICK HERE FOR PART 1.

PART 2: FALLOUT 'VERSE (Frank's default setting)

Warning that this one gets a little weird (gross) at the end (maybe more than a little).

The one scenario where I could see them interacting at length would be Fallout AU. I've talked about Fallout AU Hyden before, but to sum him up, he's a pre-war scientist turned brain in a jar remote controlling a synth body. Unfortunately, hundreds of years of deteriorating hardware and brain-meat have degraded the connection to the point where his synth body is basically completely numb. In this setting, he wouldn't have the luxury of being picky about allies (especially since he's double-crossed half the groups in the wasteland during his artificially long life). So I could see him grubbing around with someone like Frank under this circumstance. Frank is a scavenger, after all. He can help Hyden find materials he needs to repair his system and can be paid in food--something Hyden has limited use for. That makes him useful. (Also he couldn't smell Frank with his senses numbed, which would improve their relationship.)

Fallout AU Frank would think this brain-in-a-jar guy is weird as heck. Frank considers pre-war people "good", so Hyden would have that point in his favor, but is distrustful of non-humans, including synths. He'd probably have some trouble understanding exactly what Hyden is. He'd start to get it after watching Hyden "die" and come back with a new synth body a few times. He'd think that was extremely untrustworthy behavior, though. Things are supposed to die when you kill them. Not doing that is… wrong.

But Frank is a simple creature, and can be convinced to look the other way on moral failings like being a weird unkillable robot clone (or something) if you grease his palms… or rather, his mouth. If Hyden proved himself to be a reliable quest-giving NPC who rewarded him with man-dog treats for delivering scrap metal and computer components, he could come to be at ease around him, even if he still thought he was weird and sketchy. And he'll even agree to some of Hyden's more perplexing requests, like when he wants to sit there awkwardly watching him eat macaroni for an hour and interrupting him every few bites asking what the macaroni "feels" like. Frank doesn't get it, but hey, a free dinner's a free dinner. Maybe that's just what it's like being friends with a robot.

…Though, I did some googling, and… great news! Apparently synths are made of lab-grown meat and CAN be eaten with the cannibal perk! That… certainly opens up some INCREDIBLY dysfunctional paths for this relationship to take! Two morally bankrupt, empathy deficient weirdos, one of which is an obedient, social-cue-blind cannibal and one of which is an unkillable completely off the rails masochist. Good lord. Here's an alternate version of that last image with very offcolor joke (I mean it).

#anon #ask #fallout #fallout oc #fallout new vegas #cannibalism // #gore // #kinda #my ocs #hyden #frank #big changes from how I drew back when fallout was the thing: #no longer scared of foreheads can draw receding hairline without anime hair swoop training wheels #now can make a character who is comedically oversexed instead of comedically puritanical #many things stay the same though... #human

[generic-sonic-fan]

Fic idea that won't leave my head despite my continued insistence that I'm not going to write it (Bad dad Eggman warning)-

It's a Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Games fic. Bowser and Eggman are hanging out, villain solidarity and all that.

Metal Sonic walks in. Eggman precedes to pause his conversation with Bowser to absolutely scream at Metal for coming in third place in the 100m sprint. The whole nine yards. "I built you to be SUPERIOR!" and all that. He then orders Metal back to the training area to practice clear through the night 'til the next morning.

He then turns back to Bowser and says, "you were right! Kids are difficult!"

And from that moment Bowser makes it his mission to adopt Metal Sonic at all costs.

Just one problem- nobody believes him.

The Mario gang insists that it's none of their business. There's a truce between heroes and villains during the games, after all, and Peach isn't interested in pissing off what she sees as Mobian sovereign who's been known to mess with cross-dimensional shenanigans before.

So, to the surprise of everyone, Bowser then goes to Sonic to mention the problem- only for an apathetic Sonic to emphasize that he's already given Metal enough second chances by now and that frankly it's his own fault if Eggman's mean to him. Most of the rest of the Sonic gang seem to agree with this- with the distinct exception of Amy, but even she's hesitant to stir up trouble during the games. She suggests that if Bowser nicely talked to Eggman about all this, maybe Eggman would treat Metal Sonic better!

But of course, Bowser already gave the dress-down of the century to Eggman the very moment after he sent Metal Sonic away. Did Eggman listen? Of course not.

But we all know that Bowser is nothing if but persistent. He also happens to be the resident expert on kidnapping people. . .

Step 1: Bowser got his kids together and asked them to help him befriend Metal. So now Metal's got this menagerie of Koopas suddenly taking an interest in him and he doesn't really know how to deal with it. Other kids? They think he's cool and not a failure? They invite him to hang out and do fun things? But of course, Eggman prohibits "fraternizing with the enemy", but Metal finds ways to get around this order anyway.

Step 2: have the Koopa kids teach Metal a koopa sign language- one of the kids, Lemmy, already uses this sign language because he's nonverbal, so it's not too hard for the rest of the kids plus Bowser himself to sneak in a few lessons behind Eggman's back.

Step 3: once Metal is conversational, Bowser asks Metal if he'd like a new papa who won't scream at him so much.

Step 4: realize in horror as Metal explains that he can't leave- Eggman's programming won't allow him.

Step 5: Bowser asks Amy to ask Tails how to get the subservient programming out of Metal's head. Tails then provides a small USB plug-in that'll give him remote access connection once plugged into Metal's systems so that he can undo the programming.

Step 6: kidnapping time!

Step ???: realize that Metal would actually prefer to be a girl. Bowser's daughters/GNC kids then proceed to dress her up in the blackest, spikiest clothes and accessories they have. Metal adores it.

Step 7: ruin the entire Olympic games setup as Eggman threatens violence against whoever stole his robot.

Step 8: Metal gives her original "dad" the finger as she jumps into the portal back to the Koopa kingdom with her much cooler new family.

Uhhhh skip a few steps in here as the whole Bowser family goes no contact with the rest of either gang for a bit. They don't care that they ruined the Olympic games, not when they got a cool new daughter/sister out of the deal. Eventually the Mario gang comes around and forgives Bowser for ruining the games. They then invite Metal go-karting. All is well.

Step 11: Sonic visits the mushroom kingdom one day and is absolutely appalled to find out that people say to him "ohhhh you're like the flesh version of Princess Metal from the Koopa kingdom!"

#random bullshit go! #mario and sonic at the olympic games #sth #metal sonic #bowser #add this to the pile of crossovers I'll never actually write #this was inspired by the fact that both Bowser and Metal love wearing black bands with spikes

[yantalia545]

Can we also get reader trying to divorce the axis with the similar reasons as the allies' darling?

Japan:

Well, how...unfortunate for you. He had to pull a lot of strings and ask for backhand favors to push you to become his wife in the first place. He's not going to let that go all to waste. You're one of the few people he can actually stand and he's not about to let that go.

Don't you enjoy being his wife? Is there something that he's doing wrong? Whatever it is Japan is more than happy to work on it for you. He knows he's not much for physical contact but if you would like more of that then he'd be more then he'll push that boundary just for you.

Even though you will want to be friends, Japan still feels like you're trying to pull away from him. You better not be divorcing him because you're in love with someone else. Japan can't stand that thought. Why else did he work so hard to obtain you in the first place?

He wants to make sure you're his and only his. Japan may be a bit more closeted about his obsession but he definitely can be possessive over you.

He will show his much darker side after this fight the two of you had over a divorce. You won't leave him. Japan may even try to pull more strings to keep you bound to him. The house may be a bit tense after that but if it keeps you here then he's fine with it. After all, there's no way you can stay mad forever and if you dare try to drag someone else into your marriage dispute then he'll be forced to take even greater actions. He'll kill them brutely right in front of you to make a point. There most certainly will be no other lover.

I could definitely see Japan calling treason against your divorce. The two are you are together to strengthen your countries and your backing out would forfeit your end of the deal. This would lead to a whole mess of things where you'll be blamed every step of the way.

This is all your fault, you know. The two of you could have stayed a happy couple in a fair marriage, but if you want to be a brat a cause more trouble for him then so be it. Japan won't lose on this one. He'll shelter you in a dimly lit room to keep you in place if he has to.

Japan wouldn't let you go unhealthy though. It's his job as your husband to take care of you. You'll be given plenty of meals and exercise alongside him just as long as he's not forced to withhold them as punishment.

Italy:

Here comes the tears. Italy's first line of defense will always be crying. He'll cling to you all while begging for you to tell him what he did wrong and how can he fix it.

He was so happy being married to you. It was like a dream come true. Why would you ever want to leave something so amazing?

Again, Italy will make you look like the bad guy here. Guilt tripping you to the max in hopes that you'll just forget about everything and stay. When you still try to leave he'll latch on to you and cry into your legs. Probably sending you falling to the floor. The more you struggle, the more he cries. You can practically hear his heart breaking on the spot. Try to fight him off if you'd like, but when he's determined for something, Italy can be surprisingly strong. His grip on you is just so tight.

"We can talk about this (Y/n). Please don't go." He sobs pitifully.

You can try to coax him to calm down and release you, but you'll have to stay for the night. Either way, you'll end up in your shared bedroom with a locked door rather than Italy snuck out in the middle of the night to lock it on you, or he dragged you in there and then shut the door.

Italy will be paying Germany a late-night phone call, begging for his help with his marriage. He'll do anything to make you stay. He doesn't care how long you have to stay in your room or the number of hug therapies he needs to give you.

The two of you will fix this marriage.

Italy will gather anything and everything to fix your marriage from connection exercises to marriage counselors that are, of course, tailored to fit only his side of the argument. You're the only bad guy here. It's all your fault that he has to go to such lengths in the first place. There's no way his cute self could ever be capable of doing any wrong. Even if he is keeping you hostage in his small villa apartment.

If you ever want to feel the grass between your toes or the wind brushing through your fair again you better give in and fix your problem.

Germany:

Germany was in need of some serious comfort and support from you after he had lost everything in a grave war. He swore that you were the only thing he had left, and your stupid boss was trying to take you away from him.

Just the other day he informed you of filing for diverse and it was up to you to break the news to your disheveled husband. Some boss he was. Since Germany has quite a bad reputation for himself as of late, your boss thought that it was wise to withdraw your alliance from him to protect yourself.

And so, here you were in Germany's office with diverse papers in hand. You felt a sour taste in your mouth when you finally handed the papers over to the poor man. He was your friend. Someone you held dearly, but denying your boss wasn't really an option for nations.

Germnay's face hallowed as he quickly glanced at the papers bestowed before him. He should have known this was coming. He couldn't support you like he used to. However, he was selfish. He wasn't going to let you leave without a fight.

It wouldn't be long after Germany built up his forces that would he be knocking at your door. Demanding for your hand in marriage again. Your damned boss who thought to separate him from his love would be brought before you; shriveled and beaten. You were horrified as you were forced to sign the marriage contract Germany had conjured up for you.

And just like that, you were bound to him again. Germany, making sure you'd never slip through his fingers again.

#yandere hetalia #hetalia #yandere germany #yandere italy #yandere japan

[red-bat-arse]

Switch Yourself Part One

Steddie -Alpha/Beta/Omega

What if you spent your whole life feeling like some part of you was wrong, despite everyone telling you otherwise? What if you just never thought too much about something most people felt an innate connection to? And what if after everything got turned upside down, and then switched around for good measure, you found each other?

Or, there was an Alpha and an Omega, but by the time they got to know each other they had to do so as an Omega and an Alpha.

Part One/Part Two/Part Three

*

As a kid, Steve learnt about presentation from his family and friends first, and from school much, much, later.

The wives tale went that you could start to predict it as early as age two or three, which was about when children really grew into their mobility, being able to run and use more complex toys. For Alphas, they developed an aversion to the nest, trying to get out of it as often and as early as possible; for Betas, it was indifference, being just as happy outside as they were within it; and for Omegas, it was wanting to stay in the nest or help maintain it, or even simply when a baby took longer to crawl than others. Steve's grandmother loved to pinch his cheek and tease him about how he threw them off for so long by crawling backwards, but that it all worked out in the end.

They knew Steve would be an Alpha like the rest of his family. And they were right -at least, physically.

It was easy to ignore while he had his parents at home, caring for him and discussing their expectations for his life. Richard Harrington was an Alpha son of an Alpha son, and made it clear by the time Steve was six that he expected the same when Steve got older. Steve always expected that he wouldn't have trouble fulfilling what his family wanted, and that one day he'd chuff at someone and then have a rut triggered, and it would only be a matter of time before he settled down with a girl and they had a few pups. It was easy to ignore the way the thought always left him wrong footed.

He didn't know if he believed in that old wives tale, but after his childhood nest was dismantled he always felt empty and wanting. He did his best not to focus on it -to throw his attention into running around town with his friends and sports and eventually into taking pretty girls on dates. It was easy to let his natural confidence take over and push him into the stereotype of the jock-Alpha, comfortable being in charge and charming those in his circle, keeping everyone in line and on track. It wasn't really a hardship, he genuinely acted that way and so it wasn't a surprise when he started dating Nancy and let out a rough, deep chuff one night after a date.

But the thing was, when no one was home and he let himself zone out in his bedroom, his mind wandered to the hall closet where the extra pillows and comforters were stored. When he thought about his future, and the big family he wanted, it wasn't some unknown Omega he envisioned inviting him into their nest when the time was right. He didn't want to chuff at someone when he really let himself dream.

Even as his body slowly began to shift further and further along towards presenting as an Alpha, all Steve could think about was building a nest for himself, and one day letting an Alpha into it.

School taught him a bit better than his family, and Nancy too when it was clear after that first harrowing experience with the upside down that she was also showing signs of being an Alpha. Where primary sex was more or less straightforward, secondary sex was fluid and, though not exactly common, could change if there were major stressors in your life. It took awhile for the physical changes to solidify, so there were cases of a Beta turning into an Alpha or Omega based on their pack's needs, even up to when they were thirty years old.

Steve took the information in, but it never really clicked that it might affect him directly. Not until-

The Russians, and the torture, and the fire. Tossing and turning in his bed, in agony, until he heard someone calling from downstairs and he woke up enough to see Robin in the door to his bedroom. Until she came in and felt his forehead and hissed in sympathy at his temperature.

She spent a few minutes getting him water and a cool cloth for his face, helping him sit up to drink and choke down some pain meds. Steve felt delirious and when she tried to say something about going for food, he whined in the back of his throat like a little pup.

"Steve?" Robin whispered, and he tried to move his head to find where she was in the dark but he ended up flinching, his whole skull throbbing. "Steve, what's wrong? Please say something."

He opened his mouth and, mortifying, a sob was what came out. Robin sucked in an alarmed breath and it was like Steve couldn't hold himself back -he keened and reached out blindly, finding her hand with his own and a blanket with the other, pulling both towards himself desperately. Robin allowed him to wrap her up in his arms and kind of haphazardly drape the blanket over them, and it didn't feel like what he needed but it soothed his brain enough that he stopped shaking him.

"Steve, hey, it's okay, you're okay," Robin tried to comfort him, obviously anxious but her hands came up to run over his scalp and pet at his face. "If I'm okay you're okay, right? We're out of that place and you're going to be fine and we're both going to be okay."

She instinctively purred at him, and his mind said to chuff back, to reassure her he was okay, but that was wrong, it wasn't what he needed. Steve whined and hugged her tight, a sharp pain in his throat, and then he- he-

He chirped. It was strangled and miserable and it hurt, but what came out of his mouth was definitely the response Omegas were known for, and not the noise he should've made. Under his arms Robin stilled in surprise and Steve keened again, this time in confusion.

"Steve?" Robin asked, just as confused, but then she shook her head and pushed herself up -Steve forced his eyes open no matter the pain that shot through his head and watched her take him in with sharp eyes. He followed her head as it swivelled from the pillows pushed to the headboard and the blankets kicked to the sides of the mattress, and then down to the most embarrassing part, the shirts and sweaters that belonged to his parents he'd dragged in here in his pain induced haze when he'd been dropped off a few days ago. When he thought that, just like last year, he could handle the recovery on his own.

"Oh, Steve," she breathed out, a purr on the end of his name. "Let me fix things, one sec."

Steve shook his head, but Robin was already up and moving. She pulled his closet door open and grabbed his extra linens, bunching them up in a weirdly coordinated way before layering them overtop of his set up and tucking things in so they were more secure. Then she moved the pillows better, took a few and put them with the clothes near the foot of the bed, and at the headboard squished in some of Steve's sweaters; then with a nervous look, she stripped off her jacket and tucked it in too. Steve let out another quiet sob but made sure to nod his approval before she could second guess it -it was right, it was right.

"You were trying to nest, weren't you?" she asked quietly, crawling back in, once again accepting Steve's grabbing hands with grace. She was purring up a storm, and Steve's first instinct was to deny it but he let out another of those miserable chirps and her purring got louder. Steve had never been near a Beta who wanted to soothe before, and without his input his chest started hiccuping and forcing more chirps out. He still hurt from his injuries, but a big part of him was starting to settle.

"Okay, I can talk enough for us both," Robin tried to joke -Steve couldn't help but think it was cool she could talk and purr at the same time. "I think you're an Omega, Steve. I know," she pet his hair firmly when he whined in distress. "I know, I smelled you before and got Alpha, but -I mean, you also kind of weren't? I noticed it the first day we were on shift together, most of the time you were signaling Alpha, but there were more and more times I couldn't get a lock on it. I think I only noticed because I was around you all day."

Steve clung, not even able to feel embarrassed. Something had clicked between them over the course of Russian torture and the bad trip and the aftermath, and if there was anyone who it was okay to tell, anyone who Steve was pretty sure wouldn't judge him...

"I'm... maybe?" he cringed. "I don't know what's happening. I always wanted... I always wanted a nest. Pups and... and an Alpha," Robin made an encouraging sound, and it felt a little easier to keep talking. "But I'm an Alpha. Everyone knows I am, my parents expect me to be, and -and I used to chuff with Nance. I mean, I never got, uh, y'know-"

"Got it," Robin assured him before he forced himself to say a rut.

He nuzzled her shoulder in thanks. "But that's like, the only thing? So what's -I mean, do I -do I smell like an Omega now? Why do I-" He wasn't sure why he was freaking out. "Robin?"

"You're like one of those frogs in biology," she said out of left field -Steve sputtered in confusion. "Junior year biology? The secondary sex course?"

"I barely passed that year."

"Okay, well, there's frogs that switch sexes if there's a problem with the population, too many males or the opposite," she pressed on. "We can do something similar with presentation. Packs that have an Alpha but no Omega, sometimes a Beta becomes one, or vice versa. It's leftover from a recent ancestor."

"But I'm not a Beta. And I don't have a pack, not really," his parents certainly didn't count anymore, despite the front they kept up in public, and the kids, well-

"It happens to non-Betas too, Steve. And there's, uh, self-switching," Robin made a little weird chuckle. " You don't need to have any pack at all to do that. Like, mmh, studding, but you don't have a partner for it."

The absurdity of Robin talking about studding of all things broke Steve out of his fugue for a moment. "Robin Elizabeth Buckley! Studding?"

She smacked his shoulder lightly. "Get your head out of the gutter, my mom's a biology professor, dingus," Steve drew back enough to see her face and the red blush that crept up to her hairline. "Don't try and distract me. I think you self-switched. Here, let me-" she ducked down to his neck, and took a deliberate sniff, "-yeah, that smells -wow, well, first of all you need a shower, but that's definitely Omega."

"Fuck you?" she laughed at that, and Steve -he felt a bit better, but his hands still curled anxiously in the blanket over them.

He'd always wanted a nest, but he'd been afraid to make one. Afraid that it wouldn't come naturally like people talked about, or his Alpha instincts would override whatever desire he possessed for such a simple comfort and it would dissipate the second he actually put one together. He never let himself think about pups too closely, in case his carefully put together future of an Omega mate and the children they'd have morphed into something less acceptable. Let alone the idea of a chase, and which side of it he wanted to be on. He'd been afraid to think about a lot of stuff he wanted.

But they'd seeped into his life either way, hadn't they? Alphas didn't latch onto caring for stray children, didn't fuss with their looks and strength to attract a mate, didn't go nuclear with protective instincts when their pack was threatened. He was the quintessential mama bear stereotype -but mama bear had always been an Omega in the bedtime story.

Alphas guided and built the pack, Betas mediated and made it cohesive, and Omegas nurtured and protected it from harm.

"I turned into an Omega because I wanted to be one so bad?" he asked, curling in on himself. The nest around them made him feel safe, at least. "I thought I'd just, have to deal with it. Wanting it."

"Steve, come back here," Robin reached out and pulled him back into the hug, and they laid down in the nest together. "You're never going to have to deal with anything by yourself with me around, okay? Cause -cause I wanna be in a pack with you. it'd be just you and me?" she sniffled a bit, and now they were just being ridiculous, both of them crying in a cobbled together nest. "But I think it'd be nice. Platonic packmates for life."

Steve chirped again, louder and clearer than before, and forced himself to speak around the sound, "Yeah. Yeah I think I'd like that."

Robin didn't leave his house for another week after that; caring for him while he was sick and doing research on his switch so he didn't have to track down another Omega to show him the ropes. Her mother's notes and lectures helped a lot, and when Steve couldn't get up from bed she sat and read them out to him and wrote down stuff he'd have to remember or thought was interesting.

For instance, if he was making Omega noises, that meant his body was changing enough that specific parts of it worked differently than before. If he'd never trigger a rut, that probably meant he'd eventually go into heat, which was a bit of a daunting prospect. They quickly got over any squeamishness between them when it came to talking about sex and bodily functions, because as soon as Robin told him that Steve's brain spiraled.

He was going to have to go on birth control -or at least, if he decided there was someone he wanted to spend his heats with he would have to. He was also going to have to be much more scent conscious, given that Alphas and some Betas could get an inkling of his mood if it was strong enough. In courting, Alphas often made the first move, but that was generally because they could tell instantly if an Omega was interested based on the note or amount of scent an Omega let out around them. He might not be able to chuff anymore, but he could chirp, and purr and growl like normal, and maybe even trill if he practiced, since that was the hardest sound for someone with partially developed Alpha vocals to switch to.

The more... physical changes would come with time. When Steve went back to the doctor to check that his cracked rib was healing well, he mentioned the switch -not something Dr Corben was happy with him keeping quiet about for the few weeks it took. But he gave Steve a better timeline after running some tests, and a few pamphlets that were easier for him to work through on his own than Robin's mum's notes.

It was going to be interesting how his body developed over the next while. The doc said it would be easier since he'd never had a rut before, but he'd still have some pain given his muscle and fat would settle differently, his teeth and jaw might shift, and biggest of all, he'd develop a more or less typical male Omega anatomy.

Male and female Betas were the most common, with male Alphas, who had an external knot, and female Omegas, with twice yearly heats, the most common after that. Female Alphas were next, with male Omegas as the rarest, but only a little bit more so -they both had a harder time becoming and getting someone else pregnant, given the mix of developed reproductive organs that often didn't match completely how doctors thought they would. It was only female Betas and Omegas who didn't develop a dick, but if male Alphas averaged 7 inches and Betas 5, female Alphas and male Omegas averaged 3 -so Steve's might shrink a bit, but they would have to wait and see. And they each had a uterus and vagina -well actually everyone did, but if your presentation 'locked' for a certain amount of time, or generally anyone older than thirty, the irrelevant parts would grow vestigial since they weren't in use. Steve's were still in working order, so it might take awhile, but he'd eventually be able to have kids if he wanted them.

He was really glad he wasn't listening to wives tales about everything this time around. Because according to the doc, that was actually the clearest indication for certain presentations before it happened, not the nesting habits of toddlers -early vestigial atrophy.

"Well, but it's still only a guess. Look at me," Steve said absently, half his attention on folding laundry and half on the conversation he was having with Dustin. The kids had finally wised up to his switch when they came by after he was all healed up, but only Dustin was interested in talking about the particulars. If it got the kid's mind off of Hopper's death and the Byers' moving away, Steve would indulge him the less private stuff.

"I wonder if there's been any studies done on this," Dustin tapped his pencil on his notepad. "Like, you had Omega instincts all this time but got Alpha physical stuff. That implies it's not solely hormones that drive secondary instincts. Maybe it's partially coded in your DNA!"

"Big words, bud," Steve joked, and Dustin tossed one of his pencils at him. "Doc didn't really say. You should talk to Rob or her mum about it."

Dustin slumped over the table, writing something down -how the kid managed to give attitude for such a simple motion, Steve would never know. He loved him for it though. "I'm just saying, it's cool how different it can be person to person. You've been saying you changed because you 'wanted to be an Omega', but it sounds to me like you were already an Omega, your body just presented wrong. Stress switching is a thing, maybe your body unconsciously course corrected after, uh, the mall."

"Never thought of it like that. Doc said there's not much difference between self- or stress-switching, anyhow. He thinks I must've started a few weeks before that, though."

Right about when he'd left high school for good and his parents came home and did nothing but pick at him over every perceived failure. His grades, his health, his relationship status, his partial pack bond with the kids; the job at Scoops was a way to get them to leave him alone at the very least. Now, well, they hadn't come back since he'd been in hospital, but they'd certainly padded his bank account a bit, maybe out of guilt. Steve was trying not to care.

He was really trying hard not to panic at the thought of them finding out about his self-switching, at what they'd say about him now that the only thing he'd ever gotten right was gone. He was talking with Owens about getting some sort of deal on an apartment as soon as possible as part of his medical expenses, given that concern.

"Hm. Not like it matters, Steve," Dustin nodded once, decisively, and Steve made an inquiring noise in the back of his throat. "It like, suits you. Even when we first met I never really thought you'd be an Alpha. Now it makes sense."

Steve laughed at the way Dustin nodded his head again, like he was making some big statement. He really loved this pup.

*

Now Eddie, he'd never given presentation much thought except to figure out how much weed to smoke to curtail his heat-cramps.

*

I don't do tag lists!

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #fanfic #trans stuff #trans alpha/beta/omega stuff #alpha beta omega #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse

[petrichor-idyllic]

heyy, hope ur doing well <33

so i have a request for thomas tmr x glader fem!reader, where they both came up together in the box and like the entire time theyre in the glade theyre js inseparable. so when thomas goes into the maze to save minho n alby, reader gets rlly worried and as soon as minho and thomas come back reader feels so relieved and gets emotional and thomas says something like 'dont worry, im never leaving you'. and one of them confesses to the other at the end <333

Oooo finally! I get to write for Tommy boy- that man does not get enough recognition in his own series lmao. He's the main character for a reason.

WAITING GAME

MASTERLIST | THOMAS MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, sappy stuff, that's really it.

Thomas was the first person you ever met. Well, the first person you can remember meeting.

In the Box, screeching metal surrounding you with a (admittedly handsome) teenage boy freaking out, trying to wake you up. For some reason, you were a lot calmer than Thomas was. He was bouncing off of the walls and you were just sat on the floor trying to process what was going on.

Then the ceiling opened and Thomas became a human shield.

The Gladers that you would come to know, treated you like an object and a piece of meat, bar a few exceptions. They'd never seen a girl before, but Thomas was there to protect you and make sure they didn't dare lay a hand on you.

Not that it mattered because the second you were both out of the Box, the boy grabbed your wrist and made a sprint for it.

It had somehow silently been decided that you were going to stick with each other. Which included tripping over him when he fumbled over himself and face-planted, as Newt would say.

Though, after the initial shock, you both started to relax more. Joined at the hip, wherever one of you went, the other wouldn't be too far behind.

You learnt about each other at the same rate you learnt about yourselves.

Thomas is reckless- he acts before he thinks and isn't scared of getting in a fight. He also asks a lot of questions and is more than willing to tell everyone his opinion.

You, however, are calmer. You think things through and explore more options. You prefer to let Thomas do the talking and get himself in trouble whilst you're there to try and solve whatever problem he's caused.

And you learnt this is a very small space of time.

Apart from Thomas, you get along with Newt, probably because he is one of the most respectful, and Alby, because he's more than willing to kill anyone that hurts you. Oh, and Chuck- Thomas thinks he's kind of annoying, but you already adore the small boy.

So, when Thomas gets attacked by Ben and Alby and Minho have to go into the Maze after his Banishment, you have a bad feeling about it.

You join Thomas and Newt at the giant Glade Doors, staring down the incredibly long and daunting corridor that almost feels twisting and nauseating. How Minho spends every day out there is beyond you- not that you've ever actually spoken to the guy.

Chuck stands next to you, anxiously looking between Thomas and a very stoic looking Newt. You put your hand on his shoulder.

"They're gonna be fine, Chuck," you smile at him. "Promise."

Glancing at Thomas, you brush your hand against his, making him look at you before he accepts the gesture. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you attempt to playfully nudge him.

Thomas has already become very passionate and caring about everyone here. And with his determination to be a Runner, you can tell he holds Minho very highly despite neither of you having anything to do with him.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" He scoffs, taking a second to let your reassuring presence calm him.

He hesitates. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't developed a crush on you. Well, a lot of people have developed a crush on you because you're the only girl, but you and Thomas have some kind of connection. It's obvious the creators see it too, since you came up with him.

And the feeling is mutual.

"If Minho and Alby don't come back, what are our chances of actually getting out of here?" Thomas says. You understand what he means. Minho knows the Maze better than anyone, and Alby has survived all this time.

"They're gonna make it." Newt repeats himself for what must be the fifth time.

"Newt, they-"

"He's right," you cut Thomas off. "They're gonna make it."

Over time, a crowd begins to form, and Thomas is starting to squeeze your hand a lot harder, shifting on his feet and fiddling with anything he can find. The boy is stressed. At some point, Chuck decided to hold your other hand, so now your holding the hands of two very anxious teenage boys, acting like their mother.

The Doors closing time is drawing dangerous near, and you're starting to get stressed yourself. You stare at the ground, only for your breath to catch in your throat when you look back up.

"There!" You shout, a blur of motion catching your attention as Minho struggles to carry your unconscious leader.

Almost as soon as they emerge, the Doors start to move.

"They're not gonna make it," Newt mumbles. You and Chuck exchange glances, seemingly having the same idea. Letting go of both boys, you cup your hands around your mouth.

"Minho! Come on!" You shout. "You can do it!"

"Come on, Minho!" Chuck joins in, and soon the entire Glade is cheering on the Keeper to return. Some people even telling him to leave Alby, and it doesn't take a genius to tell that Minho isn't going to do that.

"I'm sorry," Thomas grabs your wrist, making you look at him.

"What?"

Without warning, Thomas bolts forward into the Maze. Newt tries to grab him but misses as he squeezes through the Doors, which close with a thud as he just about makes it to the other side.

The crowd stands there in a stunned silence.

You, Newt and Chuck all remain where you stand, almost like if you move, what just happened will become real.

You look at Newt, who stands with his fists balled. Your hand comes to the Doors, your face crunshing as you touch the stone, almost like you're willing it to open.

Newt takes a deep breath. "Everyone bed, now." He commands.

"But, Newt-" Zart starts.

"Now." He sighs. "We can't do anything about this now- and Alby's left me in charge. Bed. Go!"

The crowd disperses, slowly, until it's just you and Chuck left, with Newt standing just behind you.

Your forehead bumps against the stone as a sob shakes your body. The situation has finally set in and you can't stop the tears.

"Hey," Newt puts his hand on your shoulder, "if anyone can survive out there; it's Minho." You raise your head, looking at him and pushing your lips into a thin line. "Get some rest." He gives you a friendly boyish tap and turns to leave.

You look at Chuck, who is sitting on the floor now.

Thomas was the first person you ever met and the only person here you actually trust, so the weird feeling of loneliness and presumptuous guilt hits more than you expected.

You also sit down, taking your place next to Chuck and ignoring Newt's orders.

"They might make it," Chuck says. "Minho knows the Maze more than anyone- if Thomas is with him, he might be okay."

You sit there for what feels like forever, but you have no intention of leaving. Neither does Chuck.

Newt comes over several times in an attempt to get either of you to move, which falls completely flat and he eventually gives up. Though, he does bring you both blankets.

Chuck falls asleep after a while, and you let him use your leg as a pillow. But you stay awake.

You've known Thomas for only a few days but it feels like your whole entire life. You, for some reason, even liked Thomas when he was just a random boy you were trapped in a box with that didn't even know his name.

And now he was gone.

You were drifting in and out of consciousness when Chuck jumps up. That and the loud sounds of the Doors opening startles you back to reality. Sitting in the same position all night definitely wasn't good for your back but you have different priorities.

Scrambling to your feet, Chuck gets the other Gladers' attention and a small crowd forms, Newt leading the group.

It's like your surroundings become static and nothing feels real as the corridor remains empty.

People start to move away, with Newt putting his hand on the small of your back in an attempt to comfort you, making you look at him.

"No way," Zart mumbles, making your attention snap back to the Maze. Rounding the corner is Thomas and Minho, both exhausted and struggling to drag Alby back to the Maze.

You freeze, relief and shock overwhelming you as you stare at them. Cheers break out as they reach the Glade, dropping to their knees and panting.

"Did you see a Griever?" Chuck asks- because of course he does.

"Yeah," Thomas pants, "I saw one."

"He didn't just see it; he killed it." Minho adds, causing a new air of unease to spread across the crowd.

"Alright," Newt clears his throat, "get to the Med hut- all of you. We gotta make sure you're not shuckin' dyin' or some klunk."

Clint and Jeff help grab Alby. Minho and Thomas pick themselves up.

Thomas pauses, looking at you.

"You're a fucking idiot," you say, watching as Thomas nervously swallows, opening his mouth but he doesn't get chance to speak.

"Oi, Greenie," Minho calls after him, "let's go!"

You jolt your head in the direction of the Keeper, silently telling Thomas to go.

"Are you happy to see him or do you wanna se him?" Chuck asks, clearly more chipper than you.

"Both?"

He laughs.

You leave them to it as Thomas and Minho get patched up. But it's a weird feeling. You replayed it in your head- you expected to dive into his arms, confess your feelings or some shit.

But you just stood there.

Unmoving. And unsure what to do.

You watch Thomas leave the hut, talking briefly to Newt before making a beline for you as you sit at the edge of the Deadheads.

You look up at him from your seat in front of an old tree, pushing your lips into a thin line.

"Hi." He says.

"Hey." You respond.

"Newt wants us to have some Gathering in Council Hall." He awkwardly rocks on his heels. "He wants us all there. The Glade' goin' crazy."

"Why would you do that?"

"What?"

"Run into the Maze?"

"I had to help," he sighs, "I couldn't just leave them-"

"You could've died!" You snap, making Thomas jump. Your voice breaks slightly, the emotions of last night coming back up. "I would've lost you." The last part comes out as more of a whisper.

Thomas sighs, moving and crouching so he can sit next to you.

"Don't worry," he looks at you, slipping his fingers into yours as your arms fall falt at your sides. "I'm never leaving you."

You look at him out of the corner of your eye. Overwhelmed by feelings and unsure what else to do, you lean in.

Kissing him in the cheek, Thomas' body immediately tenses and his skin quickly becomes warm and red. You pull back, struggling to repress the smirk of your flustered friend.

"You know," he mumbles, facing you properly, "Minho ran off and left me, and all I could do was think about getting back to you. I was going to get back to you- whatever it took."

Your heart beat picks up as he glances at your lips for a second. "I like you, (Y/N). I feel... connected to you. I don't get it and I don't remember why, but you're all I think about even though I spend all my time with you. And I guess nearly dying has made me say it."

You smiles, and the images somehow makes him more flustered. "I- uh, I want- I mean-"

"Shut up, Thomas," you lean in, brushing you nose against his and giving him a hint, which he takes.

Your body feels on fire when he kisses you, and the relief that he's still here hits you all over again. He's safe here, and he's not going anywhere.

"Oi!" Newt's voice scares the shit out of you both. "I told you shanks we have a Gathering! Quit makin' out and get your sorry butts to Council Hall!"

You sit there, both of you blinking at Newt, who clearly isn't properly equipped to deal with this because he leaves pretty quick.

Thomas chuckles, standing up and offering you a hand. You smile, taking it and allowing him to help you up.

He isn't going anywhere, and he's yours.

Woooooo Thomas request- Done! I absolutely adore Minho, but it is nice to write for other characters sometimes.

I hope you enjoyed :))

#🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes tmr #🌿 petri tmr thomas #🍃 petri tmr #tmr fanfiction #tmr thomas #tmr imagines #thomas the maze runner #thomas tmr #the maze runner