#apparently it happens when you're gay

[gregorovitch-adler]

Who the fuck starts suggesting other guys around you to a girl who's clearly flirting with you?

[skrunksthatwunk]

ive been led to believe that every (afab, generally) dyke goes through some kind of harrowing toxic possessive jealous overly dramatic vaguely homoerotic girl-girl friendship in their life before they figure out they're dykes and everyone always paints this as a middle/high school phenomenon but i need you guys to know that mine happened when i was 8 years old with a literal karen (in name only). ridiculous

[reasonsforhope]

Sometimes you just have one of those moments where the progress we've made as a culture get thrown into stark relief. You look at something and go "Holy shit, that would never have happened when I was a kid."

Today, I had one of those moments when I realized that the teenage boys I'm working with are just. genuinely, openly enthusiastic about going to Build-a-Bear for their outing.

These are sixteen and seventeen year old boys! They just had a whole conversation about what to name their "cute", mostly new squishmallows! They're genuinely excited that they're going to Build-a-Bear this weekend and asking other kids to pick up specific accessories for them!!

Holy shit, that never would've happened when I was 16. None of the boys would have dared to be visibly interested - and neither would most of the girls! There would have been a million gay jokes and "Haha, you're a girl" jokes and "What are you, a baby?" jokes. Teenagers weren't even supposed to care about anything back then!

Less than 15 years later, and I'm watching three 17 year old boys treat all that as not even worthy of comment.

So let's call that a reason for hope. Even when the kids aren't alright, in some ways apparently they are alright. Go Gen Z, honestly. It's so lovely to watch you guys just openly doing and saying stuff that, when I was a teen, would've been a social death sentence.

[tofixtheshadows]

Id love to hear ur interpretation and analysis on falin! She’s one of my favorite characters and and I was wondering what ur thoughts on her are

Man, I struggle to think of anything I could say about Falin that others have not already said. But she's one of my favorite things about Dungeon Meshi too.

So much of the story revolves around Falin, and she's not even there. Tumblr loves to talk about haunting the narrative, but Falin might be one of the best examples of it ever put to page. She's dead. She's alive. She's dead. She's alive. She's alive but she's missing, she's alive but she isn't herself. She's dead but she might wake. She's dead but she's frozen in ice. She's alive but she's sleepwalking. They chase her ghost and they chase her body all through the story.

I think what Kui does with her is fascinating. Not just as character with a personality we can analyze, but as an object in a narrative- that's why I say she's one of my favorite things about the story, because I also mean it in a mechanical sense. As a writer, Kui's really good at misdirection- that is, setting you up to believe or expect something about a character or a plot, and then turning that on its head. It's most apparent with Kabru, but it works really well with Falin too.

Because the precious little sister is a very well known character archetype, right? So is the gentle healer. The heart of the party. The white mage girl. The damsel in distress. The martyr.

And this isn't a Laura Palmer situation, where we find out that beneath her wholesome surface there's something dark and troubled. No, Falin truly is a kind and gentle person. That isn't where the misdirection leads (and that, too, I think, is another misdirection- it's not "Plot twist, she isn't as nice as you thought!", which would almost be too easy).

The misdirection here is more about structure than about character (but also, yeah- a little about character).

What I mean is, with these archetypes firmly in mind, along with a whole other host of fantasy genre expectations, I think anyone who goes into Dungeon Meshi un-spoiled probably expects Falin's rescue to be an endgame event; at least on a subconscious level, where you're not really thinking about it but in the back of your head you're already stretching out the story to place Falin firmly in the distance. Fire breathing dragon at the bottom of the dungeon is perfect final boss material, right? Slay the dragon. Rescue the princess.

And Falin is the perfect prize in the traditional old school fantasy that the concept of the titular dungeon is a send-up to. Blonde (white), soft-spoken, sweet-natured, beloved by everyone. An angelic figure.

Maybe that's why Ryoko Kui gave her white wings.

It is sort of jarring when chapter 23 rolls around and it's already time to fight the red dragon. And it takes a few chapters, but they succeed. And then Falin's impossible resurrection succeeds. But by then you guess that this is not going to be the story you expected it to be.

I want to point out that Falin spends a lot of time getting, well, babied, post-resurrection. Marcille washes her in the bath, despite Falin stating that she's capable of washing herself. Marcille schools her about her mana use despite Falin demonstrating that she is not hurting for mana, and brushes aside Falin's explanations. Both Marcille and Laios refuse to actually tell her what happened. Laios scruffs up her hair like she's a little kid and scolds her for something she can't remember doing. Marcille explicitly calls her a little kid when Falin tries to talk about how much she's grown.

Of course I'm not saying that Laios was wrong to act like a big brother, or that Marcille shouldn't be worried about taking care of her shell-shocked friend in the bath. But the framing of it clearly shows a Falin who is struggling to be heard.

If you'd like to address the big gay elephant in the room while we're here, I want to state for the record that- whether you read her as gay or not -I think Marcille is completely oblivious during this. Because Falin is her little friend from school. Her best friend, yes, but also the young tallman student she, in her infinite elven wisdom, had to mentor and look after. Marcille has not yet accepted that Falin is an adult now, nor has she accepted that she, herself, is only barely past teenagerhood developmentally and is not nearly as mature as she believes. Of course she'd scrub Falin in the bath and fuss over her.

Falin, meanwhile, seems more than aware of her own adult body and the inappropriate way Marcille is treating it.

The mana-sharing scene is, I think, Falin trying to get a little of her own back. How do you like it, Marcille?

And she tries again in bed.

Maybe she's wondering if their relationship will change now that they're grown ups. If Marcille prefers her as a little girl, or at least as a woman who lets herself be guided like one; if Marcille will react badly if Falin keeps trying to assert herself. She also might be subtly trying to signal to Marcille that bed sharing, like bathing, carries a different weight to it when you do it as adults rather than as children.

With all this in mind, the decision to turn Falin from the precious prize they rescued into to the vicious dragon they have to slay, hits a lot harder.

Falin with a powerful, monstrous, destructive body. Falin, who couldn't even stand to cause people pain from using healing spells, slaughtering half a dozen people in brutal ways. And that's not her, she's being mind-controlled, but as an object in the story she has completely flipped. From damsel to threat.

And I love that she carries a little bit of that with her when she's resurrected again.

Because she's no longer the girl who's going to let herself be stifled by her brother's and her best friend's co-dependency, no matter how much she loves them. She's different now: stronger, eyes open, forging her own path instead of following in their wake. Falin is still going to come back to them again, but this time it won't be because they chased her. It'll be because they let her go.

[little-annie]

Bet you didn't know how Eddie found out Steve was Bi.

It was at a club in Indianapolis of all places. He and Steve, along with Robin and Vicki, had made their way to the city for a weekend of fun.

And some recognizance apparently.

Steve was convinced Vicki was into boobies, and at some point had made it his mission to prove such information to Robin. His location of choice? One of the biggest gay clubs in Indiana.

How Steve knew of the place made no sense to Eddie. Well at least not right away. Now though, now he knew Steve was…

Steve was:

A little fruity.

A friend of Dorothy.

A real cocksucker.

Steve Harrington was all of the above apparently.

To Eddie's utter bafflement.

And outstanding joy.

But sitting at the bar with the man in question by his side, Eddie hadn't known that yet. He was helplessly pining over a friend he thought he'd never have the faintest of a chance with. Watching from the side lines, imagining himself as the hot brunette in Steve's strong arms when the man would occasionally make his way to the dance floor.

They were having a good time. They were drinking, the girls were dancing like a couple of dorks out beneath the shining lights. Everything was going great.

But Eddie could still see from even across the dance floor the longing look in Robin's eyes as she watched Vicki do the sprinkler of all dance moves.

They really were perfect for each other.

“How's mission besties to boobies going? You think you'll have Robbie sucking on a tit by the end of the night?”

Sitting on the bar stool next to him, Steve snorts into his drink, choking on a laugh as he turns to admonish Eddie, “Jesus man.” He coughs around the fruity drink clogging his throat. “Robin would punch you in the jugular if she heard you say that.”

Eddie smiles to himself, just happy that he made Steve laugh. “Well good thing she's out there with Vicki then. Really though, any closer to helping them figure their shit out?”

Just as Steve's about to answer, both of their eyes watching the girls, they watch as some tall blonde jock approaches Vicki.

In the same instant they catch Robin's expression crumble.

“Mother fucker.” Steve huffs before he turns back to the bar and orders Robin's favourite drink. A Blue Hawaiin topped with more fruit than Eddie's eaten in the last year. Bright and flashy, decorated with a tiny purple umbrella.

Robin joins them not a minute later, sweat damp hair sticking to her forehead as she sighs sadly and falls face first with a groan into Steve's chest.

Eddie would be jealous if he didn't feel so bad for Robin.

The poor girl is nearly at her wits end.

For months her and Vicki have been going through a will they won't they type of thing.

Christ, they even kissed at one of Steve's little parties. Under the guise of spin the bottle, but it still happened and lasted way too long for Vicki to not have enjoyed it.

But then the next day, Eddie remembers Vicki talking about Dan. Her on - off boyfriend who apparently, judging by Steve's seething and Robin's near blubbering is the guy with his arms around a very annoyed looking Vicki's shoulders.

Robin's pulled herself from between Steve's beautiful beasts and is now leaning against the man, standing between his legs as he hugs her and she solemnly nibbles at her skewered fruit with her chin hooked over Steve's shoulder.

He's saying something to her that Eddie doesn't catch, but he notices how it makes Robin smile.

Albeit a little sadly.

Turning his attention away, Eddie takes a sip of his drink, stares daggers into Dan's soul on Robin's behalf and lets the Wonder Twins have their moment.

Amidst wishing Dan to drop dead, through the blaring music Eddie eventually hears Steve's determined tone.

“I'll do it, Rob.”

Curious, Eddie tunes in.

“You're not doing anything.”

“Mmmmh nope. I'm gonna do it.” Eddie nearly hears Steve's nod of resolution as he keeps his eyes on the gyrating crowd before them. He sounds determined. Surly staring his own form of ill will into Dan's soul, Steve continues, “He keeps dragging her on, which means she's dragging you on. And I can't let that happen.”

Robin sighs, “Steve.”

“Robin.”

Eddie can damn well hear them staring one another down.

It's rather loud.

As is the blatant telepathic convention they're having now.

After a moment of lord only knows what they've communicated to each other through a series of complicated facial expressions, Robin sighs again, apparently having accepted defeat, “You're a bitch.”

“You love me.”

“I hope you get Crabs.”

Eddie snorts to himself as he finally turns to take in the two next to him. Robin's now occupying Steve's previous bar stool and Mr. Great Tits and Tight Levi's himself is standing with the bitchiest expression known to man, staring Robin down, who sips her drink and appears unfazed.

And then Steve smirks.

“I literally watched you shave your chin hair with the razor I use on my balls. If I get Crabs you're coming down with me.”

Robin hardly looks bothered as she bites a hunk of pineapple from her skewer, seeming in a much better mood than when she'd arrived.

“You whore. Course you shave your balls.” She mumbles around the fruit in her mouth.

“Not everyone likes to have a jungle bush, Robin.”

Their continued nattering is lost to Eddie as he remains hung up on the idea of Steve's balls. Are they clean shaved, trimmed, artfully maintained?

He's pathetic. Eddie's well aware. Daydreaming of Steve's Adonis like body isn't new in the slightest.

He apparently wonders for so long that when he tunes back to reality, Steve and his decidedly trimmed balls are gone.

He looks to Robin who downing the remainder of her drink.

She shrugs, as if that explains anything.

Then he sees Steve at the other end of the bar talking to Vicki's maybe boyfriend.

It looks heated.

God, is Steve going to fight this guy? Fuck. Eddie's scrappy but he's never had a great track record with Jocks and he knows Steve and all of his monster fighting abilities means nothing when it comes to fighting people. He remembers the guy getting his ass handed to him by Byers. And Hargrove. Like he gets Billy, the guy was fucking insane. But Johnathan? Steve doesn't stand a chance against this guy. He's got at least twenty pounds on Steve.

Steve's going to get his ass kicked and Eddie's not going to be any help. Sure he'll try, throw a punch, maybe play dirty and move his rings over to his other hand so it hurts more, but otherwise he's got nothing.

All bark, no bite.

Fuck, what if the guy has friends here?

Eddie looks back to Robin who's now leaning back against the bar, watching as Vicki dances in the distance, giggling to herself as she waves at Robin then proceeds to do that shopping cart.

The sweet, ginger haired little dork.

Again, their perfect for each other.

“Steve's not really going to fight that guy is he?”

Robin snorts.

“Yeah, with his dick maybe.”

What?

“What?”

Robin waves him off with a limp wrist and plunks her empty glass onto the bar top behind her with a dull thud.

And then she's off.

Leaving Eddie with that tidbit of information.

She was joking, right? Right?

She had to be joking.

“Robin?!”

His voice is either lost to the music or she's ignoring him.

Probably the latter.

By the time Eddie turns his attention back to the end of the bar, he catches Steve giving Dan a playful tug to the belt loops and an expression Eddie can only describe as a smoulder.

Then Steve's pulling this guy by the hand to the men's bathroom.

What the fuck did he miss?

Jesus H Christ.

—

Twenty minutes and one tequila shot later, Eddie watches as Dan goes scurrying by from the bathroom to the exit, still tucking his fucking polo into his pants.

Lucky bastard.

A moment later, Steve returns.

Hair messy, pupils blown, shirt untucked and …

No.

It's that?

There's a small dot of milky white on Steve's chin.

Fucking hell.

Steve plops down in his chair, steals Eddie's beer and downs the remaining half, finishing it with a content sigh.

For the longest time Eddie's speechless.

Staring at Steve and the fucking splatter of come left on his chin.

What the actual fuck?

“What?”

Steve must've noticed.

Christ and it's not like Eddie can let the guy go walking around with that.

“You've got, uh, something on your chin…”

And like he knew it was there, knew exactly where it was, Steve wipes the evidence of his earlier rendezvous away.

Eddie can't help but continue to stare.

And like an idiot he decides to open his mouth. “Did you just…?”

And like it's nothing, Steve answers.

“Suck off Vicki's ex then threaten him with bodily harm if he ever bothers her or Robin again? Yeah. And?”

And?

And?!

Since when did Steve suck dick?!

Eddie's careening towards a level two gay fucking melt down when Steve decides to continue, sounding every bit offended and confused. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“No!” Eddie answers immediately, hands up in defence. Steve's expression softens just a touch. “No. No, fuck, Steve. No, not at all. It's just-” well he didn't know and he and Steve are good enough friends Eddie figured something that important to Steve's person, he'd know. “I just didn't know.”

Steve's nose scrunches in that cute way that always makes Eddie feel like dropping dead, and then almost sounding like he's surprised, Steve laughs, “You- hah- Eddie! You didn't know!?”

“No!”

“No wonder,” Steve more so says to himself before ordering both him and Eddie another drink.

He doesn't continue until he's had a sip of whatever fruity monstrosity he's drinking now. “I've been flirting with you for months, Ed.”

“Yeah well I thought you were straight.” Eddie grumbles, feeling like a fucking idiot. Had Steve really been flirting with him? Had all of the lingering touches and seemingly longing stares all been intentional.

Jesus. Fucking. Fuck.

Steve had asked him if he wanted to fool around a couple weeks ago and Eddie thought he was joking.

Shit.

“What?” Steve says, halfass sounding offended, “Like it would have made a difference. Dude you've made it obvious you're not interested.”

“I- what?”

Steve shrugs, “Yeah. No hard feelings man. I get it. I'm not your type.”

“Not- not my type!? Steve! My beautiful beautiful boy, I am so interested. I'm painfully interested. I'm so interested I jack off to the idea every night, interested.”

He's just going to ignore the fact he said that aloud.

It's worth it for the blush that rises to Steve's cheeks anyways. “Yeah?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“So you wanna?”

“Absolutely annihilate each other in the men's bathroom?” Eddie asks confidently, truly hyping himself up so he doesn't freak out, downing his drink and standing to offer Steve his hand, “ Yes please.”

But not taking his hand and running to the bathroom to hopefully suck each other off, Steve stays sitting, staring at Eddie's offered hand. And just when Eddie starts to think he's fucked this all up before it's even started, Steve stutters his response

“ I- well- I was thinking more like a- a movie and milkshakes, or something?”

Oh.

Oh this isn't just sex to Steve.

Thank God.

Eddie wasn't entirely sure how his heart would have handled the alternative.

Did Steve Harrington just ask him on a date?

“Yeah.” Eddie answers, a little breathless, a little bashful.

“We can do your thing to if this is just-”

“No. No, Steve. It's really not. I feel like a fucking schoolgirl, man. All giddy and shit. I just never thought-”

“You're kinda hard not to want Eddie.” Steve interrupts him.

And isn't that a fucking line.

Maybe…

“Both?” Eddie asks, only for Steve to raise a brow

“What about both?”

“Oh!” Steve shouts, catching the attention of a few people, one of which being Robin who was wandering hand in hand with Vicki to the bar, “Yeah. Fuck yeah.” He downs his drink just as Eddie had and finally takes Eddie's offered hand.

On their near sprint to the men's bathroom, Eddie's sure, through the buzz of his own brain and the blare of music he hears Robin's raspy voice shout, “Enjoy my besties bald balls, Munson!”

---

Give my tittle ideas babes. I wanna post this insanity on Ao3.

[mrrharper]

Elevator Malfunction

Greg was walking along the corridor. He had just finished his last lecture for the day and was ready to leave the campus and go get something to eat. He got to the staircase but decided he didn't feel like walking down all these stairs, so he pushed a button for an elevator instead.

As he waited for it to come to the floor he was currently on someone walked up to the elevator and stood next to him, also wanting to give their legs a break. Greg looked to his left, then quickly moved his head back. That was Brad Petrović, one of the stars of their university's soccer team.

One look at the jock was enough for Greg to feel his cock hardening in his pants. He felt he was turning red and he hoped no one would see him getting a boner. From his perspective Brad was a perfect male specimen, and exactly Greg's type - clearly muscular but not bulky, tall with a masculine jaw, short hair, thick thighs, that permament arrogant smirk on his face, a constant aura of sweat and musk. Greg, a closeted gay man and an obvious nerd, knew that the chances of getting a guy like that in bed with him were very slim, but he could always dream.

He took another quick glance at Brad. He was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, which allowed Greg to just barely see his hairy armpit and chest. He was now sure his boner would not disappear for as long as he was in close proximity with the soccer bro.

The elevator had finally arrived and the doors opened. Brad went in first, followed by Greg who constantly made sure there was distance between them. And he made sure his shirt was hiding the bulge in his pants. The jock then pushed the "ground floor" button and the eevator began slowly moving down.

Greg turned his eyes for a split second and saw a few beads of sweat run down Brad's arm. Fuck, he was hot. He wanted to look again, but the more rational side of his brain prevented him from doing that, aftaid the athlete would notice, call him a perv or maybe beat him up.

They were around halfway down when the elevator wobbled. Both guys looked around but saw nothing that would suggest something was wrong. But then the lights flickered and the elevator suddenly stopped. Greg, who wasn't expecting this sudden change in velocity didn't have the time to grab anything, so he lost balance, fell down on the ground, bumping into Brad and then crashing his head against the floor, loosing consciousness for a moment.

A few moments later Greg opened his eyes and was instantly blinded by the light shining from the elevator's ceiling. He blinked a few times and put his hand over his face, trying to shield his sensitive eyeballs from the bright lamp above him. He slowly dragged his body off the floor and sat down, already feeling pain radiating from the back of his head.

He turned his head and-- he blinked quickly a few times, because he couldn't believe what he saw. He saw himself, his very own body standing up and looking towards him. Greg was sure he also saw confision on his-- his body's face, but it was quickly replaced by concern.

"Brad, you're alright? Oh my god, I'm so sorry I bumped into you. Are you okay?"

Brad? He wasn't Brad, he was-- Holy fuck! Greg looked down and saw the jersey Brad was wearing on his torso. He almost jumped and turned towards the mirror on the back wall of the elevator. A confused Brad Petrović looked back at him.

"Jesus Christ, what happened?" he asked aloud, then flincked, surprised by the deep voice that he was apparently in control of.

"I... I don't know" He heard his own voice behind him and turned around to see... No, he was certain he was looking at himself. This must have been a result of a concussion. He's never experienced soemthing like this but this was the most logical explanation. Yes, this would end in a moment. "I think the elevator stopped suddenly for some reason and I lost balance, and then... then I fell onto you, and then we both... Are you sure you're okay?"

"No" Greg muttered under his breath.

"Oh god, you have a concussion? Crap, we need a doctor to have a look at you" his body stood next to him. This was a reasonable suggestion. But Greg was not really thinking straight right now.

"No!" he barked a little louder than he wanted to. "I... I need to get home."

"Oh, uhm... of course, of course" The other Greg quickly took a few steps back. Then they heard a ding and the doors of the elevator slowly opened. Greg watched as his very own body walked out of the elevator and was gone in justa few seconds. The real Greg, now seemingly occupying the body of a soccer jock bro, stood still, failing to comprehend what was happening around him.

The doors started to close and Greg quickly jumped out of the elevator. He took a few deep breaths and thought about what should he do. He had now convinced himself that all this was the result of him injuring his head during the fall and it would all go away in a few minutes. Maybe hours. Hopefully not days. Oh god, he wanted to go home so bad. He quickly left the building and made his way to his dorm on the other side of the campus.

As he walked he realized his dick had been hard this entire time. And since he seemed to be wearing gym shorts it was way more visible. Greg looked around, hoping there weren't many people who would witness him with a hard on in public. Thankfully the area was not very busy.

He got to his room, unlocked the door and-- wait a minute! This wasn't his room. He took a step inside and instead of his small and tidy space, he saw a fairly large room that almost certainly belonged to a jock. A bunch of posters of various athletes hanging on walls, dirty gym gear laying everywhere, the table covered with empty beers, boxes of protein powder, a few condoms even, and of course the smell of sweat. This was Brad's dorm room. How did he get here?

A thought appeared in his head. It was muscle memory that took him here. Brad's muscle memory. This was not a concussion. Greg's mind was currently occupying Brad Petrović's body. He closed the door behind him and looked around, then grabbed his head with both hands. This couldn't be happening, this was just a dream!

He slowly went further into the room, then stopped as he felt he stepped onto something. Greg looked down and picked up a pair of boxers, with clearly visible sweat and cum stains. The smell was intoxicating. He suddenly thought about smelling, maybe even licking the underwear that was clearly used by the real Brad fairly recently. His cock reacted positively to this possibility, but Greg wouldn't allow himself to use his terrible position like this.

Although... would it be that wrong? It would get rid of his boner, allowing him to think more clearly. No one would have to know, he was all alone in this room.

Greg sat down on the couch standing in the middle of the room and took off his shorts and briefs in one, brief motion, freeing his hard cock. He then put the dirty boxers up to his nose and breathed in loudly. It felt like getting high, the manly smells filling up his nostrils. His hand gravitated to his dick and started stroking it as he imagined worshiping this body, all of its hard muscles, the armpits, the thighs, the crotch.

He sped up his hand movements and moand loudly, still pushing the underwear against his face. He started licking the material and another wave of lust came over him. He was overwhelmed with what he was feeling, his brain overridden by his horny instincts. He thought he could taste the cum and it got him even more excited, if it was even possible.

As he continued stroking though, something happened. The images he had in his head of Brad's flexed arms that revealed two sweaty armpits turned into a topless woman waving her boobs in front of him.

This would be enough to raise concerns, but for the moment Greg was fully controlled by the horny part of his brain, which didn't allow any critical thoughts to arise. He just continued jerking off, not realizing that his dick got even harder the moment the images in his head changed.

It didn't stop there. Next came a memory (wait, a memory?) of Brad eating pussy of some random chick. Greg continued stroking and licking the cum off of the boxers while his head became filled with images of Brad Petrović having sex with a bunch of women. No alarms went off in his head, he seemed to get more horny the longer he played with his dick.

A certain scene got stuck in Greg's head - Brad fucking a blond haired girl, letting his primal instincts control him. As he leaned in to touch one of the girl's breasts Greg finally got over the edge. He came harder than ever before, his jizz landing on his hand, jersey and the couch.

Brad cleaned his hand with the boxers he was holding for some reason, then threw then on the floor and immediately forgot about them. Instead he thought about that blond chick - Beth. Fuck, he needed to find her again. He heard his phone ringing. Oh fuck, he was supposed to meet with Garrett and Trevor at the gym! He quickly stood up and ran out of his room with only his phone in his hand. It was time to get jacked, then find some pussy later. Shit, Brad loved his jock life.

[artificial-transmutations]

Finally Together

When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.

"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"

"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."

"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.

He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.

"How..."

"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.

Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.

"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.

"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."

Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.

"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"

"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"

I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.

I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.

To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.

I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.

He stood up and greeted me.

"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"

"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.

"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.

"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."

"A complaint? About what?"

"Your staff."

"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"

"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."

The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?

"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."

I felt my face reddening from anger.

"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."

The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"

"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."

"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."

Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.

"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.

Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.

"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."

I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.

"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."

In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.

I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.

With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.

In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.

The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.

While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.

The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.

"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.

My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.

Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.

I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.

Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.

I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.

The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.

So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.

I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.

Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.

Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.

Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.

Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.

A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.

Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.

That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.

It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.

It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.

Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.

However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.

Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.

"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"

I was taken aback by his reaction.

"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"

"Who?"

"Mathilda, your best friend."

Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"

"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."

He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."

I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.

"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."

He looked at me skeptically.

"Fine. I'll listen."

With that, he let me into his apartment.

"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"

"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.

Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.

The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.

I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.

"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"

"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.

"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."

Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.

Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.

"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."

"Uh... what?"

I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.

"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!

"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."

I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.

Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.

Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.

"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.

"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"

I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.

[theyrealllesbians]

Regulus was manically pacing around his room, playing with the cord at the base of the phone.

"What do you mean there's another one?" He asked in an exasperated tone, rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and fight the annoyed headache he could feel brewing.

"Another wedding invitation has just come for you, from Emmaline Vance? Wait was she the one who was obsessed with Peter and would try to dance with him at every party for like a year?" Sirius said, getting progressively louder and more excited as he carried on.

"Yes." Regulus bit out. He really could not be bothered to go to another wedding. Why did everyone want to get married all of a sudden, it's only been a couple, wait no 7 years, since he left high school. God, how had it been 7 years already? "Surely I don't have to go. I can just RSVP back saying 'thanks, but no thanks' that'll work right?"

Regulus didn't even really understand why he was getting so many invitations. He'd had 5 wedding invites so far, 2 baby showers which he was not going to and 2 reunion dinners. Of course his own brother's wedding invitation was not included in this list of grievances. He's never dare complain about having to watch the happiest day of Sirius's life. Even just hearing him and Remus try and sort out the last few details made his heart warm in a way that he would never dare admit to.

"Come on, you have to!" Sirius exclaimed. "Everyone will want to see you. Besides all of us," 'us' being Sirius, Remus, James, Peter, Lily, Mary, Marlene and Dorcas, "are going and I refuse to spend another evening answering a million questions about you when you could just get over yourself and come!!!!"

Sirius was referring to the last high school reunion that happened 2 years ago that he had refused to go to. Apparently, Sirius spent the whole night getting asked about Regulus's whereabouts and what he was doing, if it was true that he had refused to work in the family business, whether he was gay and if so, was he single?

"Ugh," he groaned, "if I do go, and that's an if! I'll need a date. Where am I supposed to get a date on such short notice." Regulus's head was now beginning to ache as it had threatened to do so at the thought of having to sit through a wedding with someone he barely knew just to show that he wasn't alone and that he was doing well for himself.

"I don't know, do I? I mean you don't have to have a date." Sirius suggested, speaking through a mouth of some form of food.

"I do though don't I, otherwise I'll just get pitying looks the entire night. Or worse, people coming up to me trying to ask me out." He shivered at the thought.

Sirius choked a little, "That's a bit cocky don't you think?"

"No I don't think it is actually, not after I had Gideon touching my knee last month asking if I'd 'be interested in a night to remember', I cannot do that again. I just can't," he whined. He may as well have stomped his feet to go along with the toddler type tantrum he was getting close to. But Regulus did not care, he was being entirely serious when he said he could not do it again.

"Fine then, go with Barty?" Sirius suggested.

"Can't he's already going with Evan." Regulus responded, damning them both because it wouldn't be a half bad idea.

"Act as if you're in a throuple, you could pull it off." Sirius teased.

"Sirius" Regulus whined again, he needed real solutions.

"Pandora?"

"Doesn't really work now that everyone knows I'm gay." Regulus was getting tired now, why did he call his brother again? Oh right he didn't, Sirius called him because Regulus is currently on a work trip and Sirius is watering his plants and clearly snooping through his post.

"Well, I don't have any other ideas. This is why you need more friends." Sirius said matter of factly.

"To have as back up wedding guests?"

"Yes, that's what we do all the time. I don't actually think that anyone really knows who is with who. Oh, you could go with James. I don't think he was planning to go with anyone."

"Yeah, pass." He would not go with James Potter. Not for any particular reason, he just couldn't.

"Right well, I can't help you"

"Apparently so. I'm gonna go" Regulus just needed to lie down and think about what he was gonna do. He still had a month to figure it all out.

"Alright, see you soon, call me if you need anything else." Sirius said, trying to maintain his 'helpful' older brother personality that he had built.

"Yep will do, bye." Regulus hung up.

He really hated wedding season.

Just had this idea, it will be Jegulus. Kinda fake dating/ friends to lovers type deal. I'm actually pretty excited to start writing it and have quite a few ideas already.

[zeroducks-2]

What's up with batman and the erasing of queer history? Sry I try to interact with fanon as little as possible

There is no simple or short answer to this but to try and not make it a wall of text - Batman/Robin has always been a staple of the queer community, so much so that to this day there are "brudick" graffiti in big cities and lots of older gay couples have been using them as a reference for solid partnership which endures in spite of adversity.

Originally there was no indication anywhere that Bruce and Dick were in the roles of father and son, rather they were partners against crime, one the shadow of the other, and they would share everything both when it came to crime fighting and in their everyday lives. They're shown sleeping together, going on lake trips together, finishing each other's sentences and Dick being viciously jealous every time Bruce would "replace" him with any of the women he used to have flings with such as Talia or Selina.

Did DC mean for them to be read as a queer couple? No, of course not. Bob Kane and others wrote a partnership, an unbreakable bond which would allow these two men to overcome any obstacle together, and queer people read into it as queer people always do.

Someone else read into it though: Frederick Wertham, who called Batman a pederast and used Batman and Robin as an example of how the evil comics would corrupt young minds to send them on the way of perdition and sin. He wrote all of this and many more infuriating shit in his book Seduction of the Innocents, which was then the major influence in creating the Hayes Code, which is the reason why we never had queer characters in comicbooks and movies and anything really for decades (and we're still struggling today).

Wertham and the Hayes Code did not stop the queer community from loving Batman and Robin though, therefore what started happening was the more subtle shift towards Bruce and Dick having a father and son relationship rather than a partnership. You can see this clearly with Jason Todd for the first time: Bruce takes Jason in and treats him as his own son, the narrative calls them father and son, and there is no doubt in the mind of who's reading that Bruce perceives Jason as his child. It all went steadily downhill from there.

Nowadays, writers have Dick say character assassinating things like "I love you dad" to Bruce, Tim saying "we will save our dad" to Damian, and everyone in the fandom acting like this has always been the case and actually you're weird and you should be sent death threats for shipping Brudick, because "UMMM that is literally his son?!??!?!?". DC has been pushing the idea that these folks are a nuclear family for a while now, but whoever has actually read the comics knows it's not the case, and it used to be very different before.

Brudick, among queer people, used to be entirely uncontroversial. While Wertham raged about how it corrupted the minds of young men and the Hayes Code prevented queerness to be anything but vaguely hinted and coded in the text, queer folks didn't care and kept having matching Batman and Robin shirts.

Today queer people will call you a pedophile and a groomer and try to doxx you for posting Brudick art because apparently they're doing the fascists' job for them, either because they are genuinely misguided or because they think that if they're enough morally pure they will have a spot among the chosen ones, hell if I know. What I know is that they'd suck Wertham's cock and balls if he wrote Seduction of the Innocents today, and it's DC's fault too with their erasure of every found family dynamic among the batclan, and the way they've been pushing the idea of a "batfamily" instead, in which everyone has a strict role of son or brother or father, and shipping them makes you the antichrist.

[industrations]

will you ever draw masc sirius? not to compare artists but recently i've just noticed masc sirius pics get more notes and ppl get more pissed off bc of fem sirius. it's ok if you draw fem wolfstar (fem sirius AND fem remus) but it's kinda weird you only draw remus masc. kinda heteronormative. when wolf is gay. plus canonically sirius was masc and remus was fem (sirius was the biker and remus was short.) it's ok you're more into fanon but canon is real so i'm just curious if you will ever draw masc sirius. if you will it'll be very cool and i'm sure you'll get more notes too.

This is the LAST time I'm going to be talking about this because I'm so TIRED of this debate.

Firstly, the "canon" you speak of is written by this person. So think before you start arguing anything about canon.

Then, since apparently some of you still cannot read. I DO NOT DRAW FOR YOU; I DRAW FOR ME. I could not care less about notes or likes or popularity. I'm just here to have fun and enjoy my time. That you are so concerned about notes is your own problem, not mine, but I suggest you change that because notes do not equal any sort of value, and this mindset is just going to be bad for anyone's mental health.

My favourite thing as a person whose gender is literally all over the place is getting to express that through the characters I draw. For ME, this mainly happens through Sirius because his "canon" is this very HETERONORMATIVE man. The freedom of him being able to step away from that and to be allowed to be whatever he wants to be on that day is just wonderful. Sirius, for me, is a reminder that no matter what you're born as or whatever people say you should be, it does not say anything about how you feel or express yourself.

Remus will forever keep evolving for me. He's also allowed to be whoever he wants to be. When I read fics he looks different in every single one. And if you actually paid attention to my art, you can see that he does not always look the same. For me, Remus is a comfort. He will always be a long, wet noodle with bad knees to me. He will always have his scars and his freckles, and those are what make him beautiful. I'm not sure why people immediately assume this is something that makes him "the man" or "the top". If that's what you're thinking when you see them, then there's something gone wrong on your side because you are deciding what a queer relationship is supposed to look like, when in fact you are the one being homophobic and heteronormative.

Also that my Sirius is shorter and more gender-y so to say, does not mean he can't kill a bitch on sight. He could break Remus in half in a second if he wanted to.

Anyway, I'm off to draw some dead gay wizards in whatever way I want to <3 love you guys. Truly the majority of you make me feel safe and seen, and I couldn't have wished for a more supportive community

[hundredandsix]

loser!ellie headcanons

✩ I haven't been able to get loser!ellie out of my head so...here we go. I love that this is basically the same thing as canon!ellie. Slutty thoughts at the end so mdni (18+) ✩

✩ I don't think she would be the first to make a move. She would do little, very subtle things like hold the door open for you and then panic because oh no that was too much! You're going to know!

✩ She would think she's being obvious, and she is, but not for the reasons she believes. Let's just say her brushing her hand against yours is not nearly as obvious as the way she follows you around and the way your smile makes her face turn red all the way to her ears.

✩ Speaking of her following your around, she is so unintentionally clingy, even before you get together. You would get up to go to the bathroom and when she realizes where you're going, she tries to play it off like she wasn't about to trail after you. When you bring it up to her, she's genuinely confused because no, she is not following you around on purpose. She would never do that.

✩ It would take her forever to realize you're into her, but when she finally picks up on it, that confirmation gives her confidence. She wouldn't be as afraid to make her feelings more apparent.

✩ Has such terrible rizz that it somehow comes full circle and makes her even more charming.

✩ She LOVES bossy, confident women. Ellie is not afraid to ask for what she wants, and she is definitely not the type of girl that would have you ask the waitress questions for her. But there's something about a woman that could put her in her place that she loves.

✩ At first, Ellie is always rubbing the back of her neck or playing with her fingers when she talks to you. She doesn't want to look like a dork, but she can't help it because you make her so nervous.

✩ She's literally the definition of a golden retriever masc. She's got the beat-up truck (that's actually Joel’s, but you don't have to know that), an outrageous amount of flannels, and carabiners to provide it.

✩ When she gets really excited about something, her brain moves faster than her mouth. She'll fumble her words and stutter. She gets really annoyed when this happens and has to take a deep breath and start over.

✩ She loves to rant about her interests to you. Don't you dare seem like you're not listening because she'll get really quiet and upset.

✩ I could see her having issues with being treated like "the man" in past relationships. It confuses her at first because she wants to protect her partner and care for them, but she also wants to feel that same love and desire toward her. She would be so drawn to you if you don't treat her any differently because of the way she dresses or presents herself. Obviously, she presents as more masculine, but she still wants to be treated like a woman.

✩ She has sooo many playlists. There are some about you of course but she also has some that are so highly specific. When you go on your first date, she has a playlist for picking you up and two different ones for dropping your off, depending on how it went. She definitely has the classic "depressed gay longing" playlist.

✩ She has exactly two pictures on her Instagram. One is her and Joel on his birthday and the other is a selfie she uses as her profile pic for everything.

✩ When you follow her back on Instagram, she loses her shit and starts fantasizing about what it would be like to be with you. She's screenshotting every selfie you put on your story and thinking about them in ways that are not very appropriate.

✩ She's the queen of "this reminded me of you" and will bring you literal rocks because "it looks like the whale from the aquarium we saw last week." Whether it's modern!ellie buying you little trinkets or jackson!ellie bringing you things from her patrols, she loves seeing you in all parts of her life. Even if you're not physically there with her.

✩ I love the pages of her journal we get to see in the game because they show us peeks at her internal monologue. They show us she is still very much the eccentric, starry-eyed girl we see in the first game. She's learned to hide it. Maybe to fit in or maybe because she's learned that wearing your heart on your sleeve can hurt. It's literally canon that she writes about her romantic feelings in her journal, so I think she would have little drawings and blurbs about you. She for sure has a stupid grin on her freckled face as she draws the highlights of your eyes and maybe even the dip of your hips. It's the only way she can think of to get you out of her head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✩ She's an ass girl. She loves every part of you and will literally kiss your eyelashes if you let her, but she has to physically hold herself back when you bend over.

✩ I can't think of who posted it, but I remember reading something about Ellie fake fucking you when you're bent over and she would totally do that at the absolute worst times. You'd swat her away and look at her with a raised eyebrow, but there's no stopping her because she thinks it's the funniest thing ever.

✩ The first time you kiss is an out-of-body experience for her. She's panicking because she didn't think she'd ever get this far. She wants to touch you but she doesn't know where or what you would like, so her arms are stuck at her sides. She's 🧍until you grab her hands and move them to your waist.

✩ Has a huge obsession with your neck. Loves to leave marks if you'll let her. Will come up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while leaving wet kisses all down your neck.

✩ I could see her wanting to be both the big and little spoon. It depends on the day and the context. When she's the big spoon she'll jokingly hug you so tight you can barely breathe and wrap all of her limbs around you like she's trying to suffocate you. When she's the little spoon, she likes it when you play with her hair.

✩ Is an absolute slut for you playing with her hair. She's an insomniac and it helps her fall asleep. When you're arm gets tired and you want to stop, she'll whine and pull your hands back to her head.

✩ She would be more comfortable topping and doesn't want to admit that she likes to bottom just as much. She's a service top that would do anything to make you feel good.

✩ Girly is so shy when she bottoms. She'll get all blushy and tries to cover her face with her hands/arms. She loves it, but it feels so foreign to her to have someone's sole focus be on her.

✩ Loves eye contact, especially when your mouth is on her. If you look up at her from between her legs while giving her head, she has trouble thinking straight.

✩ Likes it when you pull her hair during sex and will groan for you to pull harder. Just move her wherever you want her because she thinks it's the hottest thing ever.

✩ I think she'd use a strap if you wanted her to, but it's not her instinct to grab for that. She rather you come apart on her fingers or mouth.

✩ If you wanted to use a strap on her, I think she would let you, but again, it's not something she would ask for. To Ellie, It would be more about pleasing you than her.

✩ Absolutely passes tf out after sex. She always tries to stay awake, but as soon as both of you are cleaned up, she's dozing off and letting out cute little snores.

✩ In summary, Ellie is the switchiest switch to ever exist and I will be taking no criticism on this

[ryanmarshallryan]

Pride Pool Party

Here is a vore story inspired by a scenario requested by @malebellyvore987

Nathaniel and Jonathan were having a lot of fun celebrating their first pride month together as boyfriends. They went to the local parade and watched all the fun floats go by, waving to their friends who were marching along among the floats. Nathaniel’s younger brother, Hector, had never been to a pride parade but had always wanted to go, so they let him tag along.

“I think Mario’s hosting a pool party sometime later today,” Jonathan mentioned to Nathaniel as they watched a gay men’s chorus march by blasting Chappel Roan, “did you wanna stop by for a bit? Maybe after we drop off Hector?”

Before Nathaniel could chime in, Hector who had been listening blurted out “Pool party! I wanna come!”

“Hector, this won’t be like one of your college frat parties,” Nathaniel responded, adjusting his sunglasses in the hot sun, “I think the dress code is speedos… or less.”

“C’mon we don’t have a pool, and it is soooo hot. I don’t have a problem with guys there assuming I’m gay,” Hector retorted.

“Yeah, but isn't this like your first pride? We don’t wanna overwhelm you too much,” Jonathan added.

“Guys relax, I can blend in. Anyways I’d spend most of my time under the water, not bothering anybody…” Hector replied, now beginning to pull his sweat drenched shirt off over his head, “but I’ll let everyone enjoy the view.”

“Gross,” Nathaniel joked when Hector revealed his skinny toned frame. Someone on a float whistled at him and Hector spun his shirt around over his head in response.

After making their way back through the crowds and taking the subway, they found their friend Mario’s apartment complex and headed over to the secluded pool area. 

The scene had been decked out in the vomit of a rainbow monster. Multi-colored streamers adorned the fence. A rainbow-sequined fabric was strung up near a box of props for photo taking. The pool was littered with rainbow and pool donuts, and the snack table was arranged as well with donuts adorning rainbow designs. Hector admired some particularly lewd posters hanging by a changing area, and saw a caption underneath that read like “Made by an actual, full-time gay man, not but some money hungry conglomerate that showers the world in rainbows only one month a year.”

Nathaniel and Jonathan found their way into a changing area, visited with Mario and chatted a bit, then dove into the pool to cool off for a bit and socialize with the other swimmers. Jonathan began to remark “where’s Hector,” when they saw a flash above their heads as Hector jumped over them in only his underwear and did a cannonball in the center of the crowd.

“Well, there’s your answer,” said Nathaniel, wiping water out of his eyes.

Hector stayed true to his word and began exploring under the water to get out of the heat. At one point he came up to Jonathan and Nathaniel and whispered, “I’ve never seen so many yahoos in my life!”

“Yahoos? You sound like you're twelve,” Nathaniel replied.

“Hector, maybe don’t stalk guys' junk from under the water,” Jonathan added, “It’s kinda weird.”

“Only admiring, don’t worry,” Hector said, then pointing to a guy across the pool, “He’s been doing it, too.”

“I think I’m gonna go dive into the pool,” Nathaniel said, searching for an excuse to leave this uncomfortable conversation. 

Hector nodded goodbye, then went off jumping back underwater and splashing nearby swimmers who were caught off guard.

Nathaniel closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tried to convince himself that everything was going great, willing the universe to not let his brother mess up his pride pool party day. Apparently the universe had other plans. For the moment Nathaniel opened his eyes and lept head first to dive into the water, he saw a slim figure approaching from the depths of the pool, that was not his reflection.

It happened very quickly. Hector, who had been playing around sitting on the bottom of the deep end, then coming up for air at the last second, zoomed to the surface and opened his mouth as wide as he could to take in a big gulp of air. But instead he got a face full of his brother, Nathaniel, who slammed hard into the back of his throat, and kept sliding down with astonishing speed into his rapidly expanding stomach. Nathaniel felt his arms crumple against his body, as he was forced to curl up, tightly encased in the balloon of his brother’s stomach. Hector, had the wind knocked out of him from the unexpected gulp of Nathaniel, and experienced a short period of shock as he tried to suck in air but could not pull down his diaphragm. 

Jonathan swam over, planning to greet Nathaniel in the pool, and wiped the water out of his face to find Hector, who was now wheezing with his torso under the water.

“Hector, are you okay? Did you swallow a bunch of water or something?” Jonathan asked, concernedly.

Hector tried to respond but was still too out of breath to form words. But a guttural, mumbled and grumbling sound issued out of his throat. Hector took one more deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but instead found another voice issuing from out of his throat saying, “Oh he swallowed something all right!”

Jonathan looked down in surprise. He assumed the large view of Hector’s gut was simply an illusion of the light refracting in the water. He plunged under the water, opened his eyes to the stinging chlorine, and put his ear to Hector’s deformed and distended belly, which was forming the exact shape of his boyfriend in fetal position. He could hear frustrated grunting.

“Hector, you ate my boyfriend? You ate your brother?” Jonathan yelled in confusion.

Hector replied with a sheepish, toothy smile to show apology. “In my defense he literally dove down my throat,” Hector replied, now rubbing his tight gut.

“Regardless of how it happened, it’s time to get him out. Right now,” Jonathan tried to push on Hector’s stomach, but ended up just pushing Hector through the water to the shallow end. Swimmers they passed by stopped the conversation to gaze at the unexpected view of the tight man-filled belly emerging out of the water. “Nothing to see here people, unless you got some emetic drugs or something.”

Jonathan got Hector up against a wall of the pool and continued pushing, but that just made Nathaniel more uncomfortable, and as he tried to wriggle around to avoid being squeezed too hard by the stomach and added pressure of Jonathan’s hands, Hector moaned in discomfort as his insides were pressed tightly against his spine to make room for the comparatively gigantic mass in his gut. 

Next, Jonathan made Hector open his mouth wide again, and tried to shove his arms down Hector’s throat to grab Nathaniel and pull him out. This not only did not work, it had the opposite result, as Hector’s peristalsis kicked in and he began swallowing Jonathan as well.

Jonathan had just enough time to yell “I need a big strong bear to pull me out of this!!!” before his head was sucked in along with his arms into Hector’s powerful esophagus. 

By the time the bears had been summoned, Jonathan was up past his groin into Hector’s mouth and throat, and his arms and head had reached the stomach. Jonathan and Nathaniel got closer than they ever got before as they were crushed between Hector’s clammy stomach walls, with tingling stomach acid and sweat making it difficult to grip onto one another.

One of the bears reached his arms around the slender waist of Hector from the back and picked him up, with pressure on the lower half of Hector’s belly. Two other bears grabbed hold of Jonathan’s legs, which only the lower half of were showing outside of Hector’s mouth. Mario came over too and started chanting “1… 2… 3… Heave!!!” over and over again. LIttle by little, inch by inch, they pulled Jonathan’s body back out of Hector’s maw. Jonathan was trying his best to hold tight to Nathaniel, but as his head made it past Hector’s face, he felt his hands slipping. Luckily one of the bears noticed, grabbing onto Nathaniel’s wrist and pulling with a great might. 

Once Nathaniel and Jonathan were freed from Hector’s surprisingly powerful and durable stomach, the lot of them waded in the water with the bears, all catching their breath. The guys thanked the bears, who thanked them for an unexpected and interesting experience. One of the bears tickled Hector’s belly and joked that the little’s stomach was much bigger than his eyes it seemed. The other bear that had held Hector from the back gave Hector a slap on the butt, and swam on.

The last of the bears admired Nathaniel and Jonathan saying, “Hey if you two ever wanna have fun inside a gut that’s actually roomy enough to hold both of you, send me a message.” He pulled a sticky note pad and a pen out of his pocket and wrote his number down twice and gave it to each of them. The bear gave them a wink, and swam backwards, letting his belly rise above the water, looking like a whale coming up for air.

“How did that guy have a dry piece of paper in his pocket?” Jonathan asked.

“Honestly a lot of surprising things happened today and that’s the least of my concerns,” Nathaniel replied.

Jonathan held the paper up out of the water to avoid getting it wet, “Well, it could be fun to try something new.”

Mario dove into the water next to them and came to chat. “All right, Hector? Maybe refrain from eating these lads in the future,” he said, patting Jonathan and Nathaniel on the backs, “but if I run into any willing meals I’ll send them your way,” he said with a wink.

“Oh, no, that was all an accident, I didn’t mean to - wait, there are guys willing to - ” Hector began.

“Thanks so much for hosting, Mario. Sorry for my brother. He gets nervous and starts stress eating in crowds,” Nathaniel cut him off.

“No I don’t! Don’t make me - “ Hector began again.

“Well don’t just be food, come eat some! We’ve got a great buffet over by the changing rooms. And I mean eat as much as you can, I do not have the fridge space for all of this,” Mario implored them.

“I think I know a guy who could definitely help with that,” Nathaniel said, just before playfully punching Hector in the gut. “Race ya,” and they were off to the buffet to fill their bellies, and enjoy the rest of the pride pool party.

[star-suh]

Straight as A Line

Park Jinyoung x Male Reader

cw: homophobic top jinyoung, rough sex, dubious consent, hickeys, college au, swearing at each other, cheating, feminization, porn with a little of plot, a redemption arc for jinyoung lol… 

an: lmfaoooo that redemption arc happened when my music suddenly changed to lana del rey's songs changing the whole mood, i'm so sorry if this isn't what you wanted anon 😭🙏

this was a request.

—

the university where y/n was studying was planning a trip to go camping in the mountains. it was a dream trip for y/n, he could be close to nature and breathe that pure fresh air but all that sounded too nice to be true. 

"i don't know if i want to go on the trip, fuckass jinyoung is going and i don't feel like arguing with that son of a bitch" y/n tells his friend. 

jinyoung is one of those rich guys who have a lot of ass-lickers behind them, they do whatever he asks just for the money, also the guy is a fucking homophobe, when he found out that y/n is gay he started to make his life miserable. throwing slurs and swearing almost everyday towards the guy…

every student had an assigned seat “are we in school or something?” mocked jinyoung, his smile slowly fading seeing that he has to sit besides y/n “what the fuck? who put this pillow muncher beside me?” he yelled, “can you just shut the fuck up? you're not that important dude no one cares where you sit stop being a manchild” responded y/n making jinyoung's blood boil in anger.

“listen here, cocksucker. i don't want people like you near me you disgust me” he spat while signaling towards y/n with one finger. “stop signaling me you weirdo. you know that usually men who make fun of someone who is gay do it to cover up their homosexuality .. like why are you mad about me sucking a dick that's not so straight from you, jinyoung..” a grimace of laughter finding its way onto y/n's face while jinyoung's was red for the anger, y/n swear he can see the steam coming out of his ears.

jinyoung quietly accepted he lost this time and sat beside y/n ‘this is not going to stay like this’ he thought, crafting his revenge towards the guy.

it was night already, all the tents are ready and everyone is going inside them, y/n was getting ready to sleep in his sleeping bag when suddenly the zipper of his tent opens “what the fu-” a big hand covering his mouth to prevent him from making any noises. “hello motherfucker” jinyoung smiled “you thought i forgot what you said on the bus dirty whore? i think someone should teach you manners and how to be a nice obedient bitch, what do you think?”.

managing to get away from the strong grip of jinyoung's hand on his mouth y/n says “what the fuck are you talking about you fucking psycho, get out of my fucking tent before i start to scream”.

jinyoung's big veiny hand found its way towards y/n neck squeezing it hard “do it and what i'm gonna do next it's gonna be worse, you hear me?” scared by how menacing the words came out of his mouth y/n just nodded, “what do you want then, a public apology?. fucking asshole”.

“you see.. i was talking with my girlfriend and i got so horny-”, “and? do i look like some type of… friend to you? i don't wanna know shit about it” interrupted y/n. “anyways as i said” jinyoung continued “i'm so bricked that my dick is poking his way out of my shorts, so i was looking for a way to calm it but the rest of the bitches are sleeping and apparently you're the only one bitch awake so… i thought why not use this opportunity to help you be my obedient slut. after all you like cocks” he slapped gently y/n's cheeks. “fuck you” are the only words coming out of y/n's mouth…

“shh be quiet” whispered jinyoung while forcing his cock down y/n's throat, the gagging sounds making him more horny “you're so talented at cocksucking, truly a whore. you do it better than my girlfriend” he snickered while thrusting his thick cock. 

“never thought i would see you this fucked up” jinyoung was stroking his cock while y/n was laying down panting, trying to catch his breath, with spit and cum covering his face “talking about dirty whores when you can't keep that thing inside your pants. coming here like a needy bitch looking for a hole to fuck”.

jinyoung just stared at y/n with a smirk on his face “i'm not done with you slut, look at this” he pokes his rock hard cock making it bounce a little “i'm gonna wreck your boypussy. come here” his hand snaking around y/n's shorts and discarding them quickly, along with the underwear. “leave me alone whore” y/n tried to push jinyoung with his feet but the bastard was so strong… and sexy.

jinyoung spat on his fingers and rub it on y/n's rim the cold fluid sending shivers up his spine “hngh.. stop it manwhore…” the pleasure clouding his thinking. jinyoung slap his fuckmeat on the rim and slowly introduce it, drawing a loud moan grom y/n due to the stretching “shush be quiet. you don't want someone to find us right? or is that what you want? woah what a pervert” y/n just ignored the comment and sucked on jinyoung's fingers.

“is that all you got, fragile masculinity slut?. not gonna be surprised if your girlfriend kicks you, you suck at fucki-” a slap landed on y/n's cheek. “stop being a loud motherfucker and let me fuck your pussy” his anger being canalized into fucking y/n “i don't give a fuck if you like it or not” he growls “i’m only here to use you like you let other men do”.

“fuck i love the sight of your gaping pussy. after being passed around the whole university is still so tight… even more than my girlfriend's”. “can you stop mentioning her you asshole?. she deserves a better man than you” y/n says, accommodating himself to ride jinyoung “let's get this over with, i want you gone”.

everytime he goes down y/n makes sure to do it hard causing jinyoung to moan very loudly, “look who's the loud bitch now. you call yourself a man and can't even handle me”. jinyoung laughed quickly grabbing y/n by his ankles pulling them towards him folding y/n in the process, his dick going in and out. y/n squirmed, his eyes rolled back and mouth agape, feeling that cock reaching so deep inside him, no other cock has made him feel like that.

“what happened pillow muncher.. too much to handle?” he starts sucking hickeys in the back of y/n's neck. “i'm gonna breed this pussy and after this you're gonna be mine you hear me?” he whispered while flipping y/n a fuck him while he leans on his back “no… i don't belong to.. to anyone not even to a loser like you” the older just ignored it and continued looking for his pleasure.

“guess you're not that straight macho after all” y/n murmured drawing jinyoung's attention, “just because i'm stretching your boypussy and about to cream it right now doesn't make me a homo… i'm straight as a line..”. y/n with his hooded eyes make eye contact with the top, smiled and caressed his cheek “even the straightest line can be curved dumbass” he then kisses his forehead “c'mon cream this fucking pussy… isn't this what you want hurry up before someone wakes up” fucking himself in jinyoung's dick y/n also searched for his pleasure his cock splurting with cum minutes later landing on jinyoung's chest and abs, while that happened he squeezed so hard that jinyoung came without realizing it, emptying his balls in the insatiable hole of y/n. 

jinyoung tried to catch his breath resting his head on y/n's chest falling asleep, followed by y/n minutes later.

the ride back to university was surprisingly quiet, jinyoung didn't say a word about sitting next to y/n, everyone was surprised. one by one they got off the bus with jinyoung and y/n being the last, the tall one grabbed the shorter one by the hand so that he wouldn't come down yet. "i'm going to break up with my girlfriend... what i’m doing with her is not right." "wow, at least there's some empathy inside that empty skull" y/n responded. jinyoung just laughed looking at y/n with a fond smile "sigh... i'm so sorry for what i’ve put you through all these years... i know that's not going to change the damage i've already done but i want to start being a good person… wanna go eat lunch? it's on me".

surprised by the sudden change y/n wondered what happened with him last night “are you okay? did you eat something strange this morning?”. “no fucking asshole i just… i just wanted to change my behaviour… you know if the straightest line can be curved that means that we can change and it's never too late to do it” y/n just stared at him dumbfounded “are you being serious right now? are you philosophizing over a silly phrase i just made up…ugh fucking corny anyways is free food and i can't say no to that so text me where is it and see you there. i guess..” y/n was about to get off but turned around, stood up and pet jinyoung's head, a slight blush covering his cheeks. jinyoung just stood there watching y/n get off the bus with a smile slowly forming in his face.

[regalevansworth]

The butterfly effect🦋

Pairing : Chris Hemsworth x male reader

Summery : Elated and thrilled to be able to start off your career in the fashion world, your first assignment is to help create costumes for superheroes. But this elation brings a sudden change in your life's trajectory when a chance encounter with none other than the Hollywood sensation-slash-hunk Chris Hemsworth transpires.

Warnings/tags : Explicit, SMUT 18+, resolved sexual tension, oral sex, anal sex, age difference (you're in your early 20's and Chris in his actual age), size difference, biting, Choking, dirty talking, manhandling, strength kink, body worshipping, Mature themes.

Word count : 6.3k+

A/N : Serving you, my first Chris Hemsworth fic. Despite being so underrated, CH fandom will live. I mean....who doesn't love our good ol’ Hemsy, right? So, here it is- a hot and spicey Chris Hemsworth smutty fic. I profusely apologize for all my mistakes and errors . Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it as well. And fyi, I envisioned Chris single in this fic. But it doesn't matter so you can pretend otherwise. Other than that, it's a legitimately sexy time. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed. Enjoy <33

Never in a million years would you have thought of getting an oppprtunity like this. For as long as you can remember, fashion has always been a subject of fascination to you. The puzzle of fabric, needle and thread intrigued you so much so that you decided, at a very young age, that you'd be persuing fashion as a career. Your parents held no grudges on your choice of profession. They encouraged you even.

So here you are today, after 4 years of continuous study with utmost diligence and dedication, bagging your first ever job as the wardrobe supervisor of costume department in a 250Million budget movie. Which, also apparently, happens to be a Marvel Studios movie. The next THOR movie. Hence, to your inner superhero geek, it's a cherry on top.

Your interview with the head Costume designer and other production managers was pretty jarring as they encountered you with several complicated aspects of being a wardrobe supervisor. But you proved your worth with practiced ease although feeling a bit self-conscious of having no prior experience. All in all, your wit and knowledge saved the day. And you could tell from the look on their faces that they were pleased with your talent at such young age. But, today comes your first day at work.

Your list of to-do's for Day #1 is surprisingly not as overloaded as you expected. It just consists of a meeting with the whole crew and the director. It goes considerably fine, save for the revelation part where they delegate you the responsibility of supervising Chris Hemsworsth's entire costume fitting process. Thus, you get extra pressure of work on your shoulder. Nevermind that you are not nearly ready to face any of the stars of the movie and it's surely getting on your nerves.

Having been already moved to Australia, the production of the movie is continuing on full swing. It's the 4th day that the crew finally decides to start work on the costumes of the lead characters. As the supervisor of Chris Hemsworth's costume preparation, you, inevitably, have to accompany the rest of the crew (which is funnily of 3 members) to his trailer.

On the way to your destination, you feel the dread of meeting someone like Chris Hemsworth slowly looming upon you. It's no surprise to you that being gay you've always been attracted to particular alpha male like him. Sure, you had a small crush on him like the vast majority of world population, maybe you still do, but it's absolutely pointless, Isn't it? There's no way in hell he's going to notice much less give his undivided attention to some random guy like you. And he's straight.

Mind occupied with these gratuitous thoughts, you don't notice when the group suddenly comes to a halt in front of a wooden door, nameplate shining with the letters C-H-R-I-S H-E-M-S-W-O-R-T-H. You feel sweat slowly pooling at your neck and collarbone. You pull out your handkerchief to dab at the places and hear one of the crew member saying, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up at her and try to give your most calm smile, “Yeah, I'm okay”. She nods and waits with the rest of the crews for the knocked door to open.

God! Why am I feeling so nervous? It's nothing. I'm just going for a purely professional meeting with Chris Hemsworth. Big, handsome, hunk of muscles Chris Hemsworth. Nothing else. It's not like I'm gonna rip his shirt off and and worship him on my knees and then bend over for him at the first opportunity. No. I'm fine and I got this.

Realizing how ridiculous you sound, you pull yourself out of your stupid inner rambling and straighten your posture. When the door opens, you take one last deep breath and follow your teammates into the suit. The trailer finely decorated —as a star's trailer should be— but right now you can't focus on anything else but the man in front of you.

Chris Hemsworth stands before all of you in his all broad muscular glory. From the state of his physical appearance you can guess that he has just finished working-out and didn't take a shower after. Maybe he didn't have the time. However, his short dark blonde hair is disheveled and sweat stains forming all over the tight tank top he's wearing. You can see the outline of his chiseled abs through his drenched shirt. Inhumanly broad chest and fine crafted pecs are heaving in time of his heavy breaths. “Good lord” you mumble breathily at the sight of his arms and biceps that are the size of your entire head. Angry veins popping up from all over his biceps to forearms and you just wonder for a moment, how it'd be like to trace them with your tongue.

You immediately shake yourself off before your mind leaps up to dangerous territory and look over at the head designer who's now having a quick chat with Chris Hemsworth. Then, suddenly he turns his head towards you and beckons you closer. You visibly startle but head over to them nonetheless. “And this is Mr. (Y/N) (S/N). He'll be overlooking your entire costume fitting process” Your cheeks immediately flushes at the mention of your name and you try to make out if this whole ‘making acquaintance’ part is necessary as there won't be any business other than professional.

But, when you look up at Hemsworth you see his blue eyes already resting upon you. So blue you sigh inwardly as he steps closer to you and offers a hand, “Hello, mate”. His voice is so deep and resonant that you feel yourself swooning just from that. Clearing your throat, you take his offered hand to shake it and get instantly captivated by how strong and callused they feel against your soft palm. “H-Hello” you somehow croak out, feeling your cheeks and ear burn to the root. But looking up at him, you, for the first time get transfixed by just how handsome he looks up-close. His Bearded chin and jaw, strong-thick neck, and perfectly curved nose signify his classic but exceptional Australian handsomeness.

His eyes are a whole different story, that are now gazing heavily at you. You can feel the heat behind those deep sea blue eyes as an imperceptive wave of emotion flashes over them. There's a sudden fluttering in your stomache and the sensation is so new that the hairs on your neck stand at alert on their own accord as if detecting a danger.

However, the unknown spell is immediately broken when someone from behind Chris clears their throat and beckons the group to start the meeting. As the chatting progresses you start taking notes from each side of their own opinions and giving your own. But every now and then, you catch Chris staring at you from the corner of your eye. But when you try to look back, he turns his head immediately as if he's caught doing something wrong. I must be seeing things you think as you keep your track with the meeting and wonder just why Chris Hemsworth would be giving you the occasional meaningful glances. That's just too stupid and absurd.

By the time the meeting ends, it's already been 1 hour. After calling it a day, your team start to slowly file out of the room. Not wanting to be the last one to leave, you jump up to your feet in a haste and follow the others out of the room. You covertly take a glance over your shoulder to see that Chris is now talking —more like listening— to the head designer. But then his gaze shifts and locks with you for a moment causing you to jump in surprise and turn around instantly. You hurriedly make your way out without managing to trip over.

✯———————✯

It's exactly 6:30 a.m. when Chris' alarm goes off. Groaning sleepily, he shuts off the alarm and sits up. After waking up his first thing to do is to check the day's schedule. Today's list only includes a lot of workout and some interviews then script discussion with Taika and other cast members. Throwing the sheets off of himself, he climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his towel to take a shower. Turning on the spray, he proceeds to rinse and clean himself.

As he does so, he can't help but shift his mind off to yesterday's events. He'd been notified that the costume team would be on his trailer to discuss some things. Which turned out to be total useless as the team was talented enough to handle things on their own. But he appreciated their concern of his involvement all the same.

But there is one thing from yesterday's occuring that possessed all of his rational thinkings. Well, not a thing but a person. A very beautiful and lovely person at that. (Y/N) (S/N). Yes, that was his name. (Y/N).

The man —more like a boy, he looked pretty young— had a very gorgeous appearance. With his beautiful (s/c) complexion, wavy (h/c) hair, a set of wide (e/c) eyes that he found himself lost in the moment he gazed on them, petal like lips that he knows for a fact that they would feel as soft as they looked. He also had an aristocratic body type. Very slender but sinuous and quite short at height. The sage green cardigan of his attire accentuated his beauty all the more.

Chris is sure he felt quite captivated by the young man and the desire he felt was also quite strong. He didn't feel such attraction towards someone for a very long time and he longs to feel that body beneath him, to hear all the sound he can elicit from him, to feel his heat engulfing him whole.

Not wanting to get hard, Chris quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and shuts off the shower. Then quickly toweling himself off he wraps the towel around his hips and goes to his suit to get ready for the day.

As expected, the day turns out to be quite uneventful but the meeting with the stars was pretty fun. After excusing himself, Chris makes his way towards his room but stops down shortly when a familiar voice calls out from behind “Mr. Hemsworth!”. Turning around, he catches the sight of the object of his sudden obsession making his way towards him. The young man is looking more delectable today. A cream colored hoodie accompanied with jeans making his appearance just as lovely. He's also wearing rounded glasses today which makes him look rather endearing as they highlighted his doe-like eyes and made them appear even bigger.

You stop Infront of him with a clipboard in your hand, allowing him to take in the scent of your cologne —fresh, and mouth watering sweet. He feels desire pooling in his stomache just being near you again. Having remembered you called him out for some reason, he smiles kindly, “Yes?”. His smile broadens when he sees a high blush rising on your cheeks and going down your neck to disappear under the collar of your hoodie, fully aware of the affect he has on you. You clear your throat and look down on the clipboard, “umm...ahem.....I’m just....here to inform you that we'll be taking measurement of your...umm...body...for your costumes so the team will be in your room in about an hour”. The full time you spoke, your gaze were anywhere but on him.

On the other hand, Chris was mentally devouring you the entire time of your forced rambling and without thinking, he blurts out, “will you be there?” He could've kicked himself for asking you that but the dumbstruck look on your lovely scarlet face, lips parted, eyed widened makes it million times worth it. But he immediately straightens up to make the conversation look professional. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes— a sight Chris is committing to memory— and nod, whispering, “Yes, I'll be there. It's under my supervision”. “Cool. I'll see you there, mate” comes Chris's jovial reply and because he can't help it and he really wants to touch you somehow, he grasps the exposed skin of your neck, squeezing it a bit.

Hand lingering there for a moment, He hesitantly retracts it but the softness of your skin on his rough palm left him craving for more. Images of him trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks on the smooth expanse flashes through his mind and before he loses his composure, he flashes a wide smile and abruptly turns on his heels before striding away.

You stand there, shaking, eyes wide like saucers. The unexpected touch having made your rational thinkings go hayware. Head spinning thousand miles per second from the feel of his solid grip on your neck. Goosebumps still fresh on your entire body as you feel pulse throbbing on the side of your neck where moments ago his veiny hand rested.

How it'd feel to have those hands roaming all over your smaller frame? Holding you down as he pounds you onto the mattress? He could easily fit both of his huge palms around your hips

You shiver at the thoughts and immediately snap out of your reverie. Still blushing like a lovestruck teenager, you make your way towards the costume department's office, the interaction still fresh on your mind. Chris Hemsworth smiling at you, touching you. The same fluttering sensation returns like a thousand butterflies roaming around your belly. You shake your head again,. He isn't into you, you moron! He's just being friendly. Yes, he's just being his usual cheery self. Stop thinking otherwise. And Chris Hemsworth isn't gay for god's sake!! You mentally chide yourself, slapping at the back of your head once and twice.

It isn't untill one hour passes that you prepare for the impending visit to Chris Hemsworth. Just when you're about to gather your team, one of them walks up to you with an apologetic expression and you immediately know this isn't going to end up to your liking. “Hey, uh, (M/N), sorry to bother you but the other guys will be busy for next some hours with you know, set props and stuff. So, you'll have to take the measurements of Mr. Hemsworth alone” He rushes to explain again when he sees the shocked look on your face, “It's nothing difficult, really. You know how it's done, right?” You take a moment to collect yourself and nod unsurely. “Great! Good luck” He pats you on the back and hurries away.

“Shit” comes the first thing from your mouth and you know that you're gloriously fucked. But you also know that despite your current predicament, this work has to be done as soon as possible otherwise the pressure will grow on everyone. So, after releasing a long defeated sigh, you grab your things and head out. On your way, you pray to whatever higher power is up there to shorten your time alone with Chris Hemsworth and save you from the ultimate embarrassment.

Chris has just finished doing some light push-ups and weight-lifting knowing that it'll help broadening his muscles to make his body susceptible to perfect measurement. Just as he is about to grab a towel and clean the slight sheen of persiperation off his body, there comes a knock to the door. Musing it'll be the costume team, he walks over to the door, shirtless, and pulls it open. There, fidgeting like a nervous teenager, stands (M/N). But when those alluring eyes fall upon him, they widen almost comically. Never being able to focus on one thing, they shift from his face to his chest, abs, arm and every inch of his naked skin. He can't help but smile smugly at that.

Chris then sees you gulping visibly before looking up, face flushed so prettily and for the first time Chris wonders if you are a virgin. “Hey mate, I was waiting for you, come on in.” He moves aside to let you in. Seeing it just you, he asks, “You, uh, alone?” You nod, obviously more than nervous.

After an awkward amount of moment passes, you pull out the measurement tape from your back pocket and look up at him expectantly, “Shall we begin?”. He smiles, adjusting the ball cap he's wearing, “Sure, let me just clean off the sweat. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” You nod and set down the notpads on the near table. After some moments, Chris comes out of his bedroom looking slightly fresh but the evidence of his chore is still fresh on his bronzed skin.

Unrolling the tape, you move closer to him and a wave of musky scent of sweat and ozone mixed with faint spicy cologne hits your nostrils. The man radiates musculinity and of pure testosterone which is practically overwhelming your senses, making your knees buckle. Trying to calm yourself down, you proceed.

Placing the metallic tip of the tape on his right shoulder, you measure out the length of his arm and then doing the same to his left arm. Following the same procedure you measure out the length of his upper body. Jotting down the numbers after immediately everytime.

Then you move to meter the width of his neck and collar and by the close promiximity you can now feel his hot breath down the side of your neck. Can feel his eyes boring onto the same spot and the delicious heat wafting off of him. You quickly dislodge yourself and move around to measure the width of his muscular shoulders, impressive at that. His eyes trailing your every movement. Gulping nervously, you shuffle around untill you get the measurement of his biceps, forearms and chest, eyes widening from the sheer size of them.

When it is time to get the measurement of his waist and lower body, you begrudgingly have to get down on your knees which seems to be only convenient.

Chris silently observes you getting down on your knees. The sight already having made his blood rushing south, cock thickening inside his shorts. He can feel your breath coming in contact with his crotch even with the barrier of thin fabric when you circle the tape around his waist. He is having an absolute hard time stiffling his groans. Multitude of lewd, pornographic images flashes through his mind, each one dirtier than the other.

You can clearly see the tan line on Chris's skin from where you're crouching in front of him. His low hanging shorts doing nothing to hide the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband nor the obvious swell of of a prominant bulge. You swallow thickly realizing you're eye to eye with Chris Hemsworth's very clothed manhood and how easy it'd be to just tug the ridiculous pair of shorts down and choke yourself on his huge Australian cock.

Chris is also having a hard time restraining himself to just smash your pretty face onto his crotch, fingers twitching from the effort. But when you look up at him suddenly with your wide (e/c) eyes and parted lips, he loses all the battles against his lust.

He picks you up in a flash. Ignoring your yelp of surprise, he smashes your lips together. The force of his kiss almost knocks you off balance. But you pull yourself together from the utter shock and wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his huge arms around your waist and tugs yourself close even though there is not an ounce of space left between you, chests flush together. You try to kiss back as much as possible but you feel already delirious, mind hazy.

He eagerly sucks on your bottom lip. You moan in pleasure, making him groan and deepen the kiss. Soon his thick tongue seeks entrance to your mouth which you are very happy to comply. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning from the taste. Tongues enterwining, you both lose yourself in the act. He bites your bottom lip and you whimper in response. His tongue is warm and heavy in your mouth, so as his body against yours.

He soon breaks the kiss and reluctantly pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. Both of your breath became heavier by now and he looks at you so intensely that you, feeling somewhat scrutinized, look down with your hands still clutching both of his meaty shoulders. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and you notice for the first time, that his eyes are completely blown away, the blues of his orbs are blackened by what can be called as raw hunger. You can't help the shiver that wracks down your spine.

Wordlessly, he slowly backs you up against the nearest wall and once more kisses you so passionately as if trying to devour you. Involuntary tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the light suffocation. If it wasn't for him, you never would've known that kisses can be this much pleasurable to bring you to hardness in an instant.

Chris absolutely loves the taste of your mouth as he licks around every cravice. Your heavenly moans and whimpers going straight to his already engorged cock as it's leaking a steady stream of precome inside his boxers. He wants to hear you more, the sounds he can emit from your sinful lips as he makes you his. With this single thought in his minds, he pecks you on the lips one last time and slowly descends down the long column of your neck.

He takes a whiff from the juncture of your neck and shoulder before pressing his tongue flat on the skin. “You smell so good” he purrs in a husky tone and starts to suckle on your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your skin. You bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more embarrassing noises. But he's just making it so hard from his slow ministrations.

Feeling restless and too worked up, you slowly start to roam your palms around his strong back. Both your hands don't even come together from the wideness of his upper back. As he feasts upon your neck, you rake your nails on his sweaty scalp, making him groan into your skin. So far, you are completely ignorant about how things escalated since you step into his trailer. You just simply can't bring yourself to care.

Chris tugs at the hem of your hoodie, a silent indication for you to remove it. You comply without any question and as soon as it comes off, his touches become more bolder. Pressing both of your naked chests together, he kisses and nips at your collarbone, lavs at the dip of your clavicle all the while letting his teeth graze at the soft skin. He follows the same movement on your throat and jaw before taking your earlobe between his teeth and gently bites down. You whine at the sensation as he kisses behind your ear and issues one demand, “I want you”.

That's the moment you know you are utterly and entirely his to do anything with and you don't even try to hold back the Yes that leaves your mouth in a whine.

At your permission, he settles both of his large hands on your hips and marvles at how they engulf the entirety of your narrow waist. Still kissing, he sneaks his hands down your waist to rest them on your ass before squeezing both cheeks roughly that has you moaning in his mouth.

At some point, Chris aligns both your hips together and thrusts forward and your eyes immediately roll back from the hard press of his large bulge against your own erection. Yes, he is going to split you open and you will absolutely let him.

But first, you need to worship the Greek god in front of you. Trace each dip and swell of his muscles with your tongue, have that heavy cock down your throat and then let him wreck you however he wants.

Mind made up, you try and push him away to make enough room. He looks at you with a puzzled expression and then slowly realization dawns on him, perhaps your needy expression gave you away. But you can only care less as he grins and let his hands fall at his sides.

Having enough space, you move forward to press a shy kiss on top of his left pec. The muscle feeling hard on your lips as a low groan leaves from the person above you. Pleased with his reaction, you grow more confident with your touches and shower open mouthed kisses along every inch of his tanned skin, tongue darting out to chase the salty taste of his sweat leaving a wet trail of saliva in it's wake.

While your mouth is busy worshipping his glorious abs, your hands roam on his strong biceps and equally dense triceps. You can hear him panting lightly as his hands gently pushing down on your shoulders to get you on your knees.

Your knees gently hits the soft carpet and you look up at him wide wide eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Chris curses at the sight of you and combs his rough, thick fingers through your soft locks and buries your face in his crotch. You grip at his strong thighs for support and inhale his strong musky scent, making you moan and leak inside your boxers.

He's so hard and the press of his hard, long and thick cock against your cheek feels every bit the exciting and terrifying. You can feel the heat of his members even through the fabric of his shorts as you mouth at his covered shaft hungrily.

“Fuck baby, c'mon. Pull it out. I wanna feel your pretty lips wrapped around me”, rasps the man in his deep Australian accent, making you bite your lip from moaning out loud.

You scramble to obey him and tug his already unlaced shorts down to his thighs. And immediately, his engorged erection springs free and slaps you across the cheek. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you as you take in the size of Chris Hemsworth's beast of a cock.

It's long and as thick as your wrist, the tip is swollen and an angry shade of red with precum beading at the slit, veins running around the shaft and a thick vein at the underside, a nice thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at the base. So big. You drool at the thought of having it in your mouth and look down to spot his heavy looking balls that are not surprisingly also large, hanging between his thighs. They look so full, I wonder how much cum they can produce. You think in awe.

In no time, Chris grips your soft (h/c) locks and tugs you forward. You comply happily and wrap your lips around the thick spongey head. Throwing his head back, Chris groans at the feel of your soft lips on his sensitive glans. So hot and wet.

Pleased with his response, you press your tongue flat on the slit and lick up all the salty-sweet precum constantly dripping from his cock. The taste is strongly exquisite and you double down your effort to taste it more. Swirling your tongue expertly around the head, you try to take him deeper all the while gripping his strong thighs for support.

Chris watches is amazement as you continue to deep-throat him. Occasional low grunts leaving his lips as you bob your head up and down on his thick shaft. Spit and drool covering your chin as you gag and choke on his length. Chris swears at your relentless pace on sucking his cock. Even if you can't take him all the way down to your throat, you compensate with wrapping both hands around the missed portion. Jerking in time of your head movement.

You can feel Chris' thighs shaking as he presses one palm on the wall behind you and you realize that he is close. Moaning loudly around his cock, you continue faster than before and with both hands on his hips, you urge him to fuck your face. Chris immediately starts thrusting inside your warm mouth, a litany of curses falling from his lips.

You choke everytime the tip bumps the back of your throat but you don't give him any sign to stop. Drool making his cock shiny and slick as it travels down the base of his cock onto his heavy hanging balls. Wet slurping and gagging noises fill the room along with Chris Hemsworth's groans of pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I'm close. You want my cum?” Chris groans out between heavy pants as he looks down to see you looking pleadingly up at him.

“Mmm” is all you can say with your mouth full of his incredible cock but it's all he needed to hear before urgently thrusting a couple of more times and finally you can feel the warm rush of Chris Hemsworth's cum on your tongue. The taste of his sweet and salty seed in your mouth coaxing you to moan in delight as you swallow every single drop.

After he stops coming, you pull out his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and lick the remnants off of it. Looking up at him through your lashes as you press your tongue on the slit and wrapping your lips around it to give it a fierce suck to draw out any left behind, already hungry for more.

Chris watches with lidded eyes as his lustful gaze travels all over your body, blown wide pupils zeroing on your face. Cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and glistening, lips parted around his already hardening cock, chin covered in drool and cum, hair in a tangled mess. You're the perfect picture of debauchery and he can't waste anymore time.

With a hungry growl, he picks you up from the floor. Strong hands gripping the underside of your thighs to hoist you up in his arms. Taking the cue, you throw your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, lips on every inch of your neck, his coarse beard a delicious friction on your soft skin.

Once reaching the pristinely decorated room, Chris deposites you on the bed, promptly climbing on top of you and claiming your lips once more in a heated kiss. It doesn't take long for him to slide his lips and tongue down your jaw to hungrily mouth on your neck. You can't keep the whimpers of pleasure that leave you parted lips which seems to encourage him to continue with his ministrations.

One hand fisting on the sheets and other entangled in Chris' dirty blonde hair, you arch upward with a high pitched moan as he latches his lips onto one of your nipple. Biting and rolling the hardened nub between his teeth before gently tugging and blowing on it has you writhing in his hold.

“P-please”

“Please what, baby?” Chris growls around your other nipple. You shake your head, tears of sweet torture skipping down the side of your face.

Raising up on his forearms Chris grabs ahold of your face and leans down to whisper hotly, “I want you to say it”

“P-please t-touch me” cheeks aflame, you breath out. Chris smirks but complies. Sneaking his hands past your stomach to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down along with your boxers. His hand immediately wraps around your aching flesh, completely engulfed in his big, sturdy hand. Your eyes flutters shut as a long moan escapes your throat, Chris immediately swallowing it down by pressing his mouth to yours.

With his sure hand stroking up and down your cock, you find yourself running your hands all over his sun kissed muscular body. You can't get enough of off him. The way he dominates you, makes you feel good and the way he overwhelms you with his equally overwhelming figure is something you're sure you'll never find anywhere else again. He completely ruined you—ruining you—for any other man.

It takes a while for you to register that his other hand that wasn't occupied are now busy between you parted thighs. One thick finger prodding at your entrance, making you jolt up in surprise. “L-lube” you choke out, knowing that his big digits won't be comfortable for a dry intrusion and you want this as painless as possible. But the thought appears unconvincing as you watch Chris nod with a smile and gets up to retrieve lube from drawer, his big cock bobbing and swaying with his movements.

Chris returns with a small container of lube in his hand, squirting a generous amount on his digits before coating them nicely and dropping the container on the sheets.

“Relax. Let me loosen you up, hmm?” Chris says with his deep voice that immediately soothes you, allowing you to take a deep breath as the first finger approaches you. Chris rhythmically thrusts his index finger inside you and the initial discomfort fades away as you listen to him saying, “You're doing so good baby. Such a good boy, getting ready for my cock”

Hearing Chris saying those things to you doubles your pleasure but it compare to when his finger hit that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch, silent scream erupting from your throat, eyes wide from the sheer intensity of it.

Chris has a triumphant expression on his face as he thrusts on that spot repeatedly. And before you know, three of Chris' fingers are inside your ass, loosening your walls. Chris watched you as a string of pleas fall from your lips and he knows that you're close.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss and the emptiness. Chris chuckles, “Don't worry baby. I'll fill you up with something much better”.

With that, you watch as he drops a generous amount of lube in his palm and coats his large flesh with the substance. Chris shuffles closer, pressing the tip to your entrance as he looks at you for permission. You nod without hesitation, aching to be filled with his monstrous cock.

As the fat head of his cock pushes past the ring of your muscle, you already find yourself breathless. Winding your arms around his neck, you encourage him to go on. And he does. Chris pushes the entirety of his large manhood inside you tight channel with one long thrust. “Fuck” Chris grunts from how tightly your walls are gripping his cock “You're so fucking tight”

Meanwhile, an actual scream erupts from your throat as you feel him reaching so deep inside of you, at the same time stretching you so wide. The pain and pleasure making your senses go haywire as a sob rips from your core.

“You're so- so big”

Chris can't response. Not when he feels this good. He can already feel the tingling in his balls, already churning and filling up with cum. He can no longer hold back. He needs to move. To pound into your tight- sweet ass till both of you can't remember your names.

“Fuck, baby. I need to move. Can I move?” Chris grits out, muscles straining from the effort of holding back.

Overwhelmed yourself, you lock your ankles behind his back and can only nod. But thankfully Chris notices as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. It soon changes into a look of determination as he pulls back till only the tip is inside before slamming back in with full force.

It jolts you from you position but soon after Chris' hand grabs your hips in a tight grip and his powerful hips starts thrusting without inhibition. It's like a dam has been broken the way Chris delivers each of his thrusts. Both of you are a moaning and groaning mess.

Chris hits every right spot inside you that makes you toe curl. You watch transfixed as his powerful body collides with your much smaller and petite one. Every single muscle in his body looks on overdrive with each snap of his hips. Sweat sprouting on his forehead, some of it gathering between the slope of his pecs making it glisten in daylight. Every fibre of muscle in his biceps bulging with how tightly he's grabbing your hips, sure to leave marks in it's wake. His abs also glistening from sweat, tightening with tension as a few drops gathering on his dark blonde pubes. In this moment of passion, you realize you have never seen a man so handsome, masculine and equally beautiful in you life. And said man is now giving you the wildest ride of your life.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good”

Your response in only a choked moan. But you somehow manage to let out, “Harder, Chris. Please, harder”

“Yeah? You want me to go hard, baby?”

Again, you can only nod. But Chris grants you wishes. With one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach. Roughly pulling your ass up and smashing your face onto the pillow, he slides back in. Every inch of his glorious cock and starts to pound harder than ever.

You bite onto the pillow to muffle your sounds but Chris leans down and grabs you chin, murmuring in you ear, “Don't cover your sounds. I want to hear them. I want to hear you scream my name baby”

With that, he pulls his cock back slowly, letting you feel the delicious drag of cock inside of you before snapping back in and immediately hitting your prostate. Your eyes snap open as he makes you scream as promised, “Nnghh!!!Chris!!!”

After that, Chris doesn't relent. He jabs at your prostate with his cock mercilessly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts from behind and you push your ass back in time of his thrusts to meet him halfway. Yes yes please please Chris words fall from your lips like mantra.

“Yeah? You like that? You like my big cock inside your sweet ass?”

“Yes yes” you nod your head frantically

“Tell me how much you like my big fat cock”

“So much. Please”

“Yeah? And what do you want?”

“I want— oh yes —I want your cum”

“Fuck”

Chris again flips you onto your back. Pushing back in and setting up his rhythmic thrusts, he leans down and starts sucking bruises on your neck and shoulder. By the time both of your breath becomes heavier and pants starts to grow louder, you can't hold back anymore. Without even touching, your cock is ready to explode.

“C-Chris, I'm coming”

“Shit, baby. Me too. Cum with me”

And with one last precise thrust that hits you right in your sweet spot you're coming all over yourself. Cum landing on your stomach and pooling on your lower belly.

At the same time, Chris lets out a low growl and comes inside you in long spurts. You can feels his hot seed coating your inner walls, painting them white. There's so much of it that it starts to leak around his cock, still deep inside you. Your cock gives a weak little twitch from the sensation and then Chris collapses right on top of you. Your lithe body squished beneath his sweaty bulky one.

“That was fucking amazing” Chris breathes out, face buried in your neck.

“Yes. I loved it” you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and stroking his sweat drenched hair.

Chris looks up at you and grins. Dorky and satisfied. “Shower?”

You nod shyly. Chris tugs you up by the wrist and guides you towards the end suite bathroom.

On the way there Chris slaps one of your ass cheeks and smirks suggestively down at you. “Next time, I'm eating this out before doing anything else”

You feel your cheeks boil as he laughs his famous booming laughter. But neither you can contain the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Next time

A/N (2) : phew! At last. I'm sorry guys this fic is too much lengthy. I always feel the need to explain every single situation in my fics also very prolonged and detailed smut. And honestly it's so much tiring and mentally strenuous as fuck. So I swore to myself that I'm going to keep my thought process at minimum from now on. On second note, I don't know shit about a movie's costume making process, i just made the whole thing up. Guilty. Again, I'm sorry if the story longivity bothers you guys, I'm trying my best. See y'all soon with another of my groundbreaking fic Lol ;P

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XVIII)

Chapter 18 : ‘What the devil do I care what I know, and what I say?’

Hi! Here is new chapter! This is a very important chapter… I hope you like it!!!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3472

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Wisdom

This I say, and this I know: Love has seen the last of me. Love's a trodden lane to woe, Love's a path to misery.

This I know, and knew before, This I tell you, of my years: Hide your heart, and lock your door. Hell's afloat in lovers' tears.

Give your heart, and toss and moan; What a pretty fool you look! I am sage, who sit alone; Here's my wool, and here's my book.

Look! A lad's a-waiting there, Tall he is and bold, and gay. What the devil do I care What I know, and what I say?

Dorothy Parker

Classes for the first semester were over. The Christmas Holiday season had come to a close as well, leaving you buried under piles of articles and documents and books to help you get ready for the new classes that would start after the end of the exams.

It was snowing outside, a part of the Liffey had frozen during the night, apparently. Some idiot had tried walking on it, had fallen into the river, you had heard it on the news. He was equipped for a swim in cold waters, but still… how silly people could be…

You were in bed, you checked the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. Almost midnight. You heaved a sigh. You ought to stop, catch a few hours of sleep before heading to work tomorrow. But you had a thousand things to do and to plan and… God, so many things still…

You were distracted by the vibration of your phone on the bed, looked for it in a hurry under the covers. You frowned as you read Frank’s name on your screen, picked up with a worried frown on your brow. Something ought to be wrong…

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

You recognised the sound of his voice. He was drunk and had been crying. When the two of you were together, he was only in this state when you had a huge fight.

“You’re alright?” you asked him, knowing the answer.

“No, I’m not… God, I’m really not, Y/N. Can you… can you pick me up? I’m drunk, I can’t drive, I don’t know where to go… Christ, I’ve fucked up so bad tonight… please, help me…”

You looked at all the work you had left to do, looked at the time again, but heaved a sigh. Not accepting to help wasn’t even a possibility…

“I’ll come and pick you up. Where are you right now?” you asked him, and you heard the sigh of relief he heaved at your words.

“I’m downtown. At a pub… hang on, I’ll give you the address…”

“What happened? Where’s Samantha?”

He sniffed.

“We had a row.”

You nodded, not surprised.

“Like… a huge one. Our first row. I… I’ve fucked up. She’s home. I can’t go home, I don’t know where to go…”

“You can stay at my place for tonight,” you offered. “It’s alright, I’m on my way.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N… thank you,” he mumbled, the lilt of his accent more pronounced as his words were slurred by alcohol.

“Don’t mention it. I’m leaving now, stay where you are.”

You hurried out of bed, put on some clothes, grabbed your keys. You typed a text while you were in the lift.

Hi, Andy!

Just a warning: Sam and Frank had a row tonight, seems quite bad. Omw to get Frank from some bar downtown. He’ll stay at my place for tonight. Sam might call you too.

You were walking to your car when he answered.

Thanks for the warning. Sam has just texted me, I’ll go to hers.

Good luck with Frank.

You sat behind the wheel, locked your car before answering.

Good luck with Sam too!

You were about to put your phone away in your purse when it vibrated again.

Tell me when you’re home, okay? It’s late.

A tender smile softened your features.

Will do xx

You put your phone away, started driving. It took you a while to find the pub, but Frank was eager to leave, and you were relieved not to have to fight him for his car keys or something like that. Instead, he obediently entered your car. His eyes were red and puffy, he stunk of whiskey, cheap beer, and cigarettes.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice made deeper by the liquor, words slurred.

“No problem. Let’s go to my place.”

He nodded in silence, dried his eyes.

“What happened?” you asked as you drove, the streets empty at this hour, the lampposts the only sources of light in the sleeping city as clouds heavy with rain were hiding the moon and stars.

“Sam and I had a fight.”

You hummed.

“What was it about?”

“Something stupid. Fucking stupid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, like… something about the wedding. About the guests we should put together, and I was like… like who cares? People can just… sit… wherever they like. But she was making plans, and I took the piss, and she got… so fucking mad and…”

He sniffed, looked by the window at the empty streets.

“Was fucking stupid.”

“You got angry?”

“Yeah.”

“And you said something stupid?”

“Yeah. How do you know?”

“You generally say stupid and hurtful things when you’re really angry.”

“I don’t mean them.”

“I know. It still hurts.”

He heaved a sigh, rested his forehead against the windowpane.

“I think it was a long-time coming though. We’ve been bickering a lot. I don’t know… it’s just been a lot of stress these past few weeks. I thought it would be better after the New Year’s Eve party, but it wasn’t.”

You slowly nodded.

“I mean… you’ve been moving very fast through this relationship. Maybe you’ve skipped a few steps along the way, and you’re feeling it now.”

He remained quiet for the rest of the drive. When you reached your apartment building, he stared at you, but said nothing.

You helped him through the elevator and hallways all the way to your flat. You texted Andrew that you were safely home while Frank was struggling with his shoes.

Andrew answered in seconds with a thumbs up.

“You think I’m making a mistake, don’t you?”

Frank’s voice brought you back to your apartment, made you put your phone away and turn to him instead.

You weren’t quite sure what to answer, even if this was the perfect moment to speak your mind. You were too taken aback for that.

“Everybody does,” Frank nodded. “Everybody thinks I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have… I don’t know anymore… Maybe… Maybe I’ve made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have left and… I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“I think you’re moving very fast. I think all this is going too fast,” you spoke with a gentle voice, moving closer to him. “I mean… you pushed back the engagement, then the wedding, when we were together. While this is so sudden… Everything about you and Sam seems sudden.”

Slowly, Frank nodded.

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to do, I… I want it to be fast though, I don’t want to think things through this time around. I don’t want to be cautious, the way we were, you and I, Y/N. I just… I want to live this fully.”

He rubbed at his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make any sense right now…”

“You should go to bed,” you gave him a sad smile, but he didn’t notice, he was too tired for that, or… you didn’t know why… but he didn’t notice.

You gave him a pillow and a blanket so he could settle on the couch, he thanked you, closed his eyes.

Before you could move away, he grabbed your hand in his, gave it a tight squeeze. You wanted to cry now.

And then, he surrendered to sleep, and he let go.

Sam wasn’t crying anymore when Andrew arrived to her flat, but her eyes were red and puffy with tears that had already fallen. She let him inside, offered him something to drink while he took off his coat, gloves, beanie and scarf, but he declined. He turned to her with a tender smile, something full of compassion.

“You’re okay? How are you feeling?” he asked with a voice he made deeper than usual, knowing it calmed her down.

“Not great,” she admitted.

“You had a fight with Frank, then?”

“Yeah… we… I… It was pretty bad.”

“Bad?”

“It was a big row.”

“Was he mean to you?” Andrew’s voice shook, a frown digging a line between his eyebrows. “Did he threaten you?”

“What? No! Of course not! We just had a row.”

He visibly relaxed, took a step closer to her. They were standing in her living room, the night was quiet. He wanted to reach out, but he didn’t dare.

“What was it about? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugged, but took a step closer to him too, standing close, so close… He could have pulled her into an embrace so easily…

“We fought about the wedding. We… we don’t want the same thing.”

“About what?”

“Silly things. Unimportant details, to be honest. But I didn’t know how to react to it… like… I know you sigh a lot when you’re annoyed. I know your voice quietens first, and then you raise it. I know you get petty when you’re really angry. I know you need to spend time alone to cool down. I know you’ll want to have the last word no matter whether you’re right or wrong, but you’ll never admit it. I know that it’s useless to simply bury the hatchet, that you’ll bring it up again later if we don’t discuss it when the issue arises. I know you don’t talk about what you feel, that I should not be offended if you just lock yourself up in your office until you’re calmer and we can talk about it. I know it’s useless to make you acknowledge your feelings. I know you’re so fucking stubborn when you really want to be. I know… I know how to deal with you, even with your anger, even with the ugliest of your feelings. Cause I… I know you. But I didn’t know how to handle him. I got mad, and he got mad and I didn’t know what to do. And I made things worse. I don’t know what to do…”

She looked up at him with this specific gaze, and he knew what she needed. He knew it, because he knew her. And she had just told him what he was already painfully aware of, that she knew him like the back of her hand. And perhaps this was the part he missed the most now that he was alone. That he used to have someone who knew him so completely.

He wrapped his arms around her, because he knew she needed a hug. She needed to feel safe and warm, and indeed she rested her head on his shoulder easily.

He held her close, the way he had thousands of times before. He always found solace in it, something soothing, anchoring. When she rose to her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, to thank him in a whisper for coming, his chest grew a little warm but he was surprised when his heart didn’t stumble. It didn’t rush, didn’t miss a few beats. It remained steady, although it was content. And the arms that used to soothe him were a nice embrace, a gentle shelter to rest, but they lacked something. Something… he wasn’t sure what it was. He knew that he didn’t feel the way he used to when they held on each other before. He knew he felt less than before.

They remained motionless, bathed in silence for a few minutes, the sound of their breathing the only sign of life in the room. His mind wandered off, instead of being anchored in the moment, unlike the way she used to force his brain to quieten down. Instead, he thought about the classes he had to prepare for the rest of the year, the exams coming up, he thought of Frank and was angry at him for hurting Sam, and he thought of you. He was suddenly worried about you, he hadn’t received any text from you yet, to tell him you were home. Were you alright? It was so late into the night and you were driving to a pub downtown, after all…

He felt his phone buzzing in the back pocket of his jeans, pulled away from the hug. He didn’t notice Sam’s puzzled expression.

“Andy?” she looked up at him with a questioning look.

He didn’t notice she was speaking. He heaved a relieved sigh instead.

I’m home. All good xx

He answered with a mere thumbs up.

“Andy?”

This time he looked up from his phone, put the device in his back pocket again.

“Yeah?”

“You’re okay?”

But he knew her. He knew her better than anyone else in this world. He knew this question meant ‘who is texting you at such an hour?’.

“Yeah… erm… It was Y/N. Frank called her to pick him up at a pub.”

“Did he?” she asked, clearly jealous.

Andrew hummed and nodded.

“He’ll stay at her place for the night.”

“Right…”

She seemed uneasy now. Worried.

“And why was she telling you this anyway?”

“Because you asked me to come here too,” he merely answered.

“So, she picked him up?”

“Yeah, they’re at her apartment.”

“Why is she telling you all this?”

“It’s late. I asked her to tell me when she’d be home, just to make sure she was safe.”

She stared at Andrew with an unreadable expression, one he didn’t know how to analyse, despite how well he knew her. Was it a new one? Did he simply… fail at reading her this time?

“Can you stay tonight?”

The question came out of the blue, took him aback.

Stay the night…

“I… don’t want to be alone,” she whispered.

And Andrew wasn’t sure what she meant. Probably for him to sleep on the sofa, but there was something in her eyes… No, she didn’t mean for him to sleep on the sofa…

It was his chance to get her back, and he knew it. He knew it. He could have her back, maybe, he could try, at least…

He thought about kissing her then, closing the distance between them, finding back what they had lost. But instead, he…

Instead, he thought of your lips on his, of your weight in his arms, of your kiss on his cheek while a new year was born.

He wanted to kiss you. He didn’t want to kiss Sam at all…

He didn’t want Frank to be with you now, in your apartment. He didn’t want you to kiss him, he didn’t want you to be with him, and God almighty, he could feel his heart racing at the thought that you could have sex with him…

Slowly, he shook his head.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” he mumbled, his voice not sounding like his own.

“But I…”

“I’m sorry… I… I should go. I should go…”

He hurried to her front door, while Sam remained standing in her living room, too stunned by Andrew’s actions to move or say anything. Before she could go back to her senses, Andrew had left.

He had left. When he sat down behind the wheel, he didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t understand his own actions. He could have tried to get Sam back, and instead… instead he had thought of you, he had… he had wished it was you who stood there before him, offering him a chance to kiss you…

Fucking hell… he bloody liked you. He liked you. He liked you enough to push Sam away…

Holy shit…

Andrew was pacing before a tired Alex, who was sitting on his sofa.

Andrew was lucky his best friend was a night owl like him, but even if he naturally longed to go to bed at an unreasonable hour, Alex was still longing to bury himself under his warmest blanket and finally go to sleep now that it was almost four in the morning.

But Andrew was still pacing. He had called Alex after leaving Sam’s flat, panicked, talking too fast about ‘catching feelings’ and ‘being a fucking eejit’ and ‘ruining everything’. Alex invited him to come over, and now Andrew was burning holes in his carpet…

“This is so bad, Alex. So fucking bad…”

“Calm down, it’s alright. You have a crush on Y/N, so what?”

“SO WHAT?! SO WHAT?! I don’t want to have a crush on Y/N! I want to have Sam back!”

“Not anymore, apparently.”

Andrew threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He had a thousand things to say and couldn’t speak them out loud, he just couldn’t. He was never good at this, opening up about his feelings… He buried them instead, and let them gnaw at his heart. Was it healthy? No, but he couldn’t help it. And then he wrote about it, and he felt better, lighter, and things were alright again.

But right now, he was too much in a state to grab some paper and pen and put it all down.

“This can’t be happening, Alex” he shook his head. “I can’t be catching feelings on Y/N.”

“Why not? She sounds like an amazing woman!”

“She is! Don’t get me wrong, she’s… incredible! But I want Sam.”

“You don’t anymore.”

“Of course, I bloody do!”

“Why did you push her away tonight, then?”

But Andrew wasn’t ready to admit that.

“I don’t know… I don’t know…”

“You’re falling for Y/N.”

“She’s my colleague! We share an office! We’re friends! We’re trying to get back with our exes! She’s still in love with the guy!”

“Well, tell yourself those arguments, cause apparently they haven’t prevented you from falling for her…”

“I haven’t fallen, I just… I fancy her, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, of course. Of bloody course.”

“Alright, I need to think straight.”

“Why do you want to get back with Sam so badly anyway?”

“Because… Because I love her. Because she… I’m…”

“The honest answer,” Alex argued, staring mercilessly at his friend.

And Andrew hated him at that moment, for knowing him so fucking well, for not cutting him any slack, for pressing him on into acknowledging how he felt… even the ugly side of himself…

He stuttered, went silent, but Alex was there to push him again. Until Andrew turned to the window and stared at the inky sky where not a single light remained uncovered by heavy clouds. All darkness. The kind so absolute, one would not see a thing if they were lost in it.

He imagined your features on that darkness, painted it with the colour of your eyes, the softness of your skin, the warmth of your lips, built your image on the nothingness of the world.

He wanted Sam… he wanted…

“I want someone to know me,” he whispered, feeling the heaviness of the confession drain all his strengths out of his body, feeling empty as he let the words leave. “I want… I want to be known. I want companionship. I’m afraid to be alone. I’m scared. I’m scared no one else is ever going to know me the way Sam does, and love me anyway. After all, even she couldn’t…”

He fell silent, sniffed as tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“God, it’s so fucking hard to be unknown. To have no one like that anymore… It feels so fucking lonely…”

Alex had gotten up without a word nor sound, rested a hand on Andrew’s shoulder.

“Someone else can learn to know you that way again, Andy. You deserve it. You deserve to be loved for who you are. Maybe Y/N could…”

But Andrew shook his head, shook himself out of his friend’s grasp.

“No! No, this is ridiculous! I want Sam! I want Sam! I don’t want Y/N! It was just a flukes, just a glitch, just… I don’t know, a moment of madness! But I don’t want Y/N, I don’t like her, I want Sam…”

“Andy…”

“I want Sam. I must want Sam.”

Andrew rubbed at his forehead, tightly closing his eyes.

“And anyway… even if I don’t want Sam anymore, I can’t fall for Y/N. That’s just… that would just make everything so fucking complicated, and she’s so great, I can’t risk to lose her like that… That would be insane.”

“So… you could want someone else? I could introduce you to someone…”

“We’ll see… we’ll see… I… I don’t know.”

Andrew heaved a sigh, feeling the heaviness of sleep creep up his body. He looked at his watch.

“Christ, sorry, mate… it’s so fucking late… I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. You can sleep on the couch tonight, it’s too late for you to drive, and you’re too upset for that.”

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, mate.”

They exchanged a pair of tired smiles, and while Alex was gone looking for some spare blanket and pillow, Andrew was gathering his thoughts and feelings. Trying to calm down.

He wasn’t falling for you. He didn’t have a crush on you. He wanted Sam, he didn’t want you. He couldn’t want you.

Andrew didn’t like you… he couldn’t like you…

… right?

[engie-ivy]

(Can be read as a stand-alone, but also as my attempt to give this slightly Angsty fic a happy ending!)

1845 words

Remus and Fabian are together, so Remus doesn't understand why Fabian would be so upset his best friend Benjy is dating someone. Until he learns who Benjy is dating.

Your Person

Remus feels a hint of annoyance as he sees Benjy’s cloak on the hanger. He came over to visit Fabian again. Yet, Remus knows he isn't one to question Fabian’s relationship with his best friend, as that makes him feel somewhat like a hypocrite, and that's a can of worms Remus prefers not to open.

At first, Remus is surprised when he hears raised voices, until he realizes Fabian and Benjy are having an argument about the same thing that has been bothering Fabian all week.

“…just doesn't sit right with me! Oh, hi darling,” Fabian says mid-argument as he sees Remus.

“Hello love,” Remus says, as he walks up to Fabian and gives him a quick kiss. “And hi again, Benjy.”

“Hi Remus,” Benjy says absentmindedly, before continuing the argument. “Fabian, I can't adapt my dating life to you having a ‘gut feeling’.”

“It's more than that! It's just a wrong match, Benj.”

“Then I'll find out in due time,” Benjy shrugs.

“But if I can save you the trouble…”

“Fabian, why do you care so much about who I date?”

Remus, who has just walked into the kitchen to pour himself a beer, thinks that is an excellent question, and he lets Fabian know by leaning against the kitchen counter slowly sipping his beer, while staring pointedly at Fabian.

“I just… That is… Only because… Because he's Remus’ ex!” Fabian exclaims. “You can't date Remus’ ex! That's just bad form.”

Remus isn't entirely surprised about the news that Benjy is dating a guy he has apparently dated before. There are only so many gay guys in their social circle, after all. But he isn't going to let Fabian make this about him. Fabian is the one who has a problem with Benjy dating, so Fabian is going to take responsibility for it. “I don't mind Benjy dating an ex of mine,” Remus says casually. “We all hang out with the same people, we all date guys, it's bound to happen.” He turns to open one of the kitchen cabinets to see if Fabian has any snacks left. “Who are you dating anyway, Benjy?”

“Sirius.”

Remus freezes with his hand halfway to a bag of crisps. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Benjy asks.

Remus turns around. “No. Just… no.”

Benjy frowns. “I thought you didn't mind me dating one of your exes?”

“Not Sirius,” Remus says instantly before he can think about it. “Sirius is… He's different.”

“What’s different about him?” Benjy asks.

“Yes, Remus,” Fabian echoes, looking more smug than upset though. “What's different about him?”

“Sirius and I are still…”

“Still what?”

Well, that is another excellent question. How to describe all the things Sirius still is to him? “We're still close friends,” Remus ends up on, running a hand through his hair. “That makes it different.”

“Of course it does,” Fabian says. “Now that it's about handsome, charming Sirius Black whom you're still oh-so-close with it's suddenly a whole other matter.”

Benjy looks from Fabian to Remus and back. “Something tells me this is more between you two than it has to do with me, so I'm going to let you sort it out.” He gets up from the couch and walks to the front door. “Bye Fabi, bye Remus. See you later.”

As Benjy leaves, Remus glares at Fabian. “Weren't you just saying yourself that you have a problem with Benjy dating my ex? I'm only agreeing with you.”

“I have a problem with the whole principle of it, not with it being Sirius Black!”

“No, but I bet it has to do with it being Benjy!”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Please, Fabian,” Remus says. “You've been acting annoyed and upset ever since you found out Benjy is dating someone. That, with all the time you spend with him, how am I supposed to feel?”

“Well, let me think,” Fabian replies sarcastically. “Probably about the same as it makes me feel when you talk about your ‘special relationship’ with Sirius Black.”

“I haven't been doing that though! I didn't even know it was him whom Benjy is dating until just now!”

“And only then you suddenly had an issue with it.”

“That's different!”

“Different indeed,” Fabian agrees. “I never dated Benjy, you did date Sirius.”

“Hardly,” Remus replies. “We dated for a short period when we were only fifteen years old, that's it.”

“And yet,” Fabian says. “He's not just an ex, he's somehow the ex.”

“At least I already had that experience with Sirius and decided we're better off as friends. With you and Benjy there might still be the question of ‘what if?’”

“I don't…” Fabian sputters.

Sensing an opportunity, Remus presses on. “You never wonder ‘what if?’ when it comes to you and Benjy?”

Fabian recovers himself, though. “You really consider you and Sirius a closed chapter?”

“You're not answering the question!”

“Neither are you!”

They angrily stare at each other in silence for a moment. Remus feels justified in his anger about Fabian having been so put out over the last week by the idea that Benjy is dating someone, but deep down he knows that lashing out at Fabian might also be a defense mechanism, as he doesn't want to deal with his own feelings about Sirius moving on. Their conversation at Lily and James’ wedding, where Sirius told him he still felt so much when it came to Remus, has been playing in Remus’ mind more often than he would like to admit.

As if sensing what Remus is feeling, Fabian tilts his head. “Why did you and Sirius never date again? I mean, I know you had this big fight back in fifth year, but you sorted yourselves out, so why did you never date him again?”

Now it's Remus’ turn to be taken off guard. “I… He… We… We barely managed to salvage our friendship. I almost lost him as a part of my life, I didn't want to take that risk again and potentially lose our friendship forever by turning it into something more. There was just too much to lose, he meant too much to me…”

“He what now?” Fabian asks.

“I meant…”

“I know what you meant! You're too scared to risk your ‘special relationship’, while apparently, I'm a whole lot less special than our perfect Sirius Black.”

“That's not what I said! Don't put words into my mouth!”

“I was right to warn Benjy. He should think twice before getting dragged into whatever is going on between you and Sirius.”

“Oh, like you even care who Benjy is dating,” Remus scoffs. “You don't want him dating anyone! Don't you think it's weird how no one is ever good enough for Benjy according to you?”

“He's my best friend! Of course I want what's best for him.”

“Is him being single not more what's best for you?”

“Maybe not,” Fabian snaps. “Maybe I should be with Benjy instead, rather than with someone who doesn't think I'm all that special anyway!”

“And maybe I should be with Sirius then,” Remus snaps right back. “As you're so obsessed anyway with how special our relationship apparently is!”

They are both standing across from each other, their hands clenched in fists, breathing heavily, as each other's words, but also their own words, sink in.

After a moment of silence, Fabian blinks. “I think I might have feelings for Benjy.”

“I think I might have feelings for Sirius,” Remus replies.

They stare at each other, before Fabian groans and lets himself fall on the couch, Remus dropping down next to him.

“Rem, what are we doing?” Fabian asks, hiding his face in his hands.

“Potentially dating the wrong people,” Remus offers.

Fabian lets his head fall on Remus’ shoulder. “We're a mess, aren't we?”

“Fabi,” Remus sighs. “What do we do now? They're dating each other, for Godric’s sake!”

Well, there are a lot of things Remus would rather be doing than going on a double date with his ex, the person he's in love with, and the guy his love interest is currently dating. Like going to the dentist for instance, or swimming with sharks, or jumping out of an airplane perhaps.

“Oh my, you're so funny, Siri,” Benjy giggles, squeezing Sirius’ arm.

Remus gives Fabian, who's knuckles are turning white around his fork, a pointed look. He was the one to agree to this double date after all. Something about observing how Benjy and Sirius are as a couple before potentially intervening.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Remus says, as Benjy makes a show of tickling Sirius’ side, before he heads off to the toilet, desperate to get out of there.

“Remus, I'm so sorry!”

Remus turns away from the sink towards Sirius, who's rushing up to him.

“Did you really think this was a good idea?” Remus hisses, his frustration with the whole evening getting the better of him. “After you basically told me you still have feelings for me at Lily and James’ wedding, for us to go on a double date?”

“I know, I know,” Sirius says, running a hand through his hair and looking unfairly handsome. “But on the bright side, at least I'm finally trying to move on?” He tries.

Remus just stares at him, as Sirius has no idea how little of a bright side that is.

“But for real,” Sirius continues. “Benjy just said a double date with friends, I didn't know it would be you and your boyfriend!”

“Me and my ex,” Remus corrects.

Sirius blinks, then shakes his head. “Merlin, this really is the most awkward double date ever!” Then he gives Remus a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry, Moony. I didn't know. What happened?”

Remus bites his lip, not sure whether saying ‘I realized I'm in love with you’ while Sirius’ date is right in the other room can be considered bad form. “We just realized we weren't each other's person.”

“How?”

“I…” With Sirius’ bright grey eyes looking at him like that, Remus can't keep it in. “I think I realized that you're my person, Sirius. I tried so hard to suppress it out of fear of mucking it up and losing you for good, but it's the truth and it has always been the truth.”

Sirius stares at him for a moment, before the most beautiful smile lights up his face. He takes a step forward and takes Remus’ hand. “Really? You mean it? You would like to finally try again? With me?”

“Pads…” Remus says, staring at their joined hands. “Benjy is…”

“Just trying to make Fabian jealous,” Sirius replies. “I mean, it's been fun with him, but nothing more than just fun, when we both needed a distraction as we were desperately pining after the one we really wanted to be with. As I was desperately pining after my person.”

“Your person,” Remus repeats softly, before returning Sirius’ smile.

As they walk back to their table, hand in hand, neither of them can help the smiles still on their faces.

“Benjy, Fabian, I think we need to switch places.”