#something about this character type… it captivates me

[ra1ny-daze]

when the character has burn scars and an accompanying traumatic backstory>>>>>

[ourstarsystem]

even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Self-Aware!Sylus x Down-bad!Player

Sylus becoming aware he is a character in a game and now he’s aware of you as well. A modern day Romeo & Juliet story here …. A tragic love story A/N: Don’t fight me [Requested by: Anon]

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Self-Aware!Sylus who realizes he’s in a game when he can sense your energy on the other side of a phantom wall. He can hear you squealing when he calls you honey and you're radiating happiness when you send him random emojis.

Self-Aware!Sylus who finally sees you when he happens to be looking around during a photoshoot and sees your shocked face when he makes eye contact. He smirks and turns back to the in-game version of you. “Why are you out there?” You dropped your phone and stared at it in shock. Did Sylus just ….. talk to you? You muttered a low ‘Hello?’ but got no response. You brushed it off as you just being tired and on the game too long.

Self-Aware!Sylus who manages to create a keyboard in your chat so he can actually text you. You were so confused when you opened it and it allowed you to type without just pressing a prompt. You gave it a spin with a quick ‘Hey Sylus’ something simple. Of course the message was read immediately and he replied with a ‘Hello [your name]’ you stared at the screen in shock not knowing if this was a new update or if you were just going crazy.

Self-Aware!Sylus who chuckles when he sees you pouting because you didn’t get his card so when you close the app and lay down he gifts you the card himself. You opened the app and the first thing Sylus says to you is “I don’t like seeing you sad, check your memories I left a gift for you”. When you open your memories you see that you not only got his most recent card but all of his five star memories. “What's happening here?” “You’re smile is so captivating I just had to see it again”

Self-Aware!Sylus who opens the app randomly throughout the day so he can see you “I haven’t seen you all day what are you doing?” causing you to snatch your phone off the table because he always seems to catch you when you’re at work or around a group of people. “Sylus I'm at work I'll call you when I get off” he crosses his arms and seems to be pouting? “I don’t like how much you have to work I don’t see you as often” “Well not all of us are billionaires some of us work for said billionaires to make a living” “I wish I could take care of you….” “You and me both”

Self-Aware!Sylus who teases you when he wins a game of kitty cards or who uses his evol to get every stuffed animal for you when you get frustrated. “You sure do wear your heart on your sleeves sweetie”

Self-Aware!Sylus who stares directly at you when you’re doing a photoshoot with your in-game MC “Sylus focus on her so I can get the picture” “I want to focus on you though” “She is me” “…..she’s not”

Self-Aware!Sylus who tells you not to fall in love because he’s not real, but he falls head over heels in love with you anyway. From the late night conversations of you explaining your world to him and just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. He can’t help it one night when you’re up late on the phone as always he just has to ask “Do you love me?” you’re shocked by his question, but swiftly answer with a shy “Yea I do”

Sylus: I thought we agreed not to fall in love Y/N: I was already in love you just noticed late Sylus: I believe I fell harder You giggled as something somber settled in your chest. Y/N: We’ll never truly be together you know? Sylus: I know and yet I continue to long for you …. I wish I could kiss you Y/N: I wish you could too…..

Self-Aware!Zayne Self-Aware!Xavier Self-Aware!Rafayel Self-Aware!Caleb

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[cheetabites]

☆彡 age ain’t nothing but a number ˳༄꠶

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388), and hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)

˳༄꠶ summary: headcannons i have regarding if you - their partner - were younger than them (fem intended! reader, and all legal babes 💋)

park gyeong seok (player 246)

★ he works as a portrait painter near an amusement park, he’s been approached by many younger woman. they usually directly express their interest in him by flirting but he usually brushes it off with a smile and a timid shake of his head. regarding this, i don’t think it would’ve been a problem if he’d gotten into a relationship with a younger woman; he is a the type of older man to get really shy about it though

★ despite the hierarchy in korea where juniors are supposed to automatically respect their elders, gyeong seok doesn’t really push it too much. he treats you as an equal with a bit of extra pampering - he does believe that since he’s the older one in the relationship, he should carry most of the responsibilities, whether that be household chores, bringing money home, or just caring for you and his daughter

★ he isn’t too sensitive to other’s opinions on your relationship, but there are some times where he worries about the age gap. it’s mostly out of worry for you though; i mean he’s nearing closer to finally turning forty and he has a young daughter. he just wants you to be happy. although if you talk it out with him and ease his worries, then i think thoughts like those will eventually dissipate

★ sex with him wouldn’t be any different even if you were younger, he’d still have the same kinks. although he would treat you more gently just to make sure he doesn’t “hurt” you

★ his daughter doesn’t mind the age gap either. you’re sweet, thoughtful and you make her dad happy. the only way she’d ever question the age difference would be from an external factor like whispers from other parents that she overhears or if one her classmates says something about it. if this does happen though, you and gyeong seok would obviously clear stuff up for her

kang dae ho (player 388)

★ to be honest, when he first met you he didn’t even think that you were younger than him. it was only when you clarified your age that he realized that he was older than you. he still pursued you despite it though, because you were both legal adults and he found himself captivated with you; he does tend to get with older women though, more often than he does with younger women

★ he’s another one that gets a bit shy about the fact that he’s dating a younger woman. you and his friends love to tease him about it too, just so you can hear him stutter as he tries to figure out a comeback; if one of his friends make a bad comment about your relationship though, he’ll post tf up. but make sure to drag him away, he’s not really good in physical fights

★ he’s more shy when he subs for you. something about you being younger than him yet having all this power over him makes him red in the face (and rock hard in his slacks)

★ i feel like he’d try to coddle you, but you’d hit him with the “i had you crying and begging for me last night, i can take care of myself.” he’d pout when you’d brushed off his advances, but would eventually get over it; he just loves you sm

★ with you, he honestly acts like a himbo. don’t get me wrong, he’s not unintelligent, but it’s like he’s so starstruck with your presence that it kinda short circuits his brain; it makes him all the more lovable though!

hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman

★ this man does not give one flying fuck that you’re younger than him. in fact, it boosts his ego that he was able to bag such a beautiful young baddie like you; just know you’re gonna be as spoiled as hell

★ he’s so detached from people’s opinions that he could not give less of a rats ass about their opinion on your relationship. if it does somehow tick him off though, then he’ll just put a bullet in them

★ if you’re his significant other, there isn’t much of an opportunity to return back to society. he doesn’t want to risk you interacting with other people - especially if you were a previous player; you disappeared without a trace and then suddenly returned to society? it would cause more problems than solutions. he makes sure to make it up to you in other ways though, he doesn’t want you to be unhappy

★ he tries to hide your relationship from the guards, but since you can’t leave he eventually just lets it be. there isn’t much to do at the facility / where the games are held so the guards are constantly exposed to you trailing after him wherever he goes, curious as ever - you often ask him random questions and he regularly indulges in you to keep you satiated. i can just picture you trampling around the halls doing whatever you want in the most fabulous outfit that he gifted you - obviously breaking the rules - and the guards just give eachother a look, kinda saying “damn, if we did that boss would fire - a bullet at - us.”

★ sex with him is relatively the same. but with a younger partner, i believe things like thigh riding and a daddy kink will appear sometime after you get intimate together

the end! I hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 4 2025.

[nyancrimew]

Sorry, it was unfair of me to send that to you without proper context since you might not be aware of these issues. Irredeemable media refers to any thing with a creator or content  that is harmful and/or bigoted. Of course every piece of media has problems, but irredeemable media is when those problems cannot be ignored and are an indicator of someone's beliefs. 

For example, Harry Potter is irredeemable media because every one knows that JK Rowling is a transphobe, but some other piece of media like Twilight would not be considered irredeemable because even though Stephanie Meyer has done some bad things, they are not as widely talked about, so someone who posts about Twilight on here isn't completely likely to be a bigot, but a Harry Potter blogger would. Also, I know the "to be cringe is to be free" people like your blog, but a lot of the time, what is considered cringey on here is actually based on what is irredeemable. No progressive person or reputable blogger genuinely makes fun of My Little Pony fans any more, however plenty make fun of Hazbin Hotel fans and the such because that content is irredeemable and shows someone's beliefs. So usually, a piece of media being considered embarassing to like on here usually indicates that it is irredeemable.

As for why the other pieces of media are irredeemable, Hazbin Hotel is made by a woman who has many well-documented accusations of bigotry against her and has drawn zoophilia art, not to mention how her work leans into stereotypes about gay people (having a gay man character be a sex addict, a lesbian be named after the female body part Vagina, etc.) or at least that's what I've heard. Attack on Titan is created by a known fascist and many illusions are made to nazi imagery and nationalism in the anime. Captive Prince has a racist premise that sexualizes slavery and non-con. 

People can tell you that liking irredeemable media doesn't say something about who they are, but that's fundamentally false. If someone is uncaring enough to still post openly about these types of media, it's clear they don't care enough about not supporting bigotry. Yes, even if they don't give money to the creators, because they are still willingly exposing themselves to bigoted or harmful content and enjoying it.

The previous ask was not meant to be accusatory. Rather it was meant as a concerned question. Believe it or not, there are still some users on here who indulge in these pieces of content, a few of which hide behind the excuse of being part of a minority (Black, trans, whatever) or simply deny how bad their media consumption is to escape accountability. I wouldn't want you associating with those types of people and have that ruin your reliability on this website.

Hopefully this ask has educated you more on these issues and you'll be able to spot irredeemable media in the future and block it out.

incredible essay, you get a C for Creativity

[augustjoy]

I’ve got you!

Based on the following ask: I want fluffy romance

It’s an Aaron Hotchner x reader (lmao daddy issues on fleek) anyways

I’d like to see like romantic tension building between them like it begins small but slowly gets bigger and it isn’t until reader gets into trouble (like say almost drowning because she never learned how to swim like my dumbass) that Aaron almost loses it a little and saved reader which makes him end up confessing to each other and they get together and it’s just fluffy romance because as much as I love the smutty stuff, I crave fluff so badly for my poor heart and for Aaron because baby deserves comfort too. Anyways Love you gorgeous

Aaron Hotchner x BAU! Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2533

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, SLOW BURN, Age gap (non-specified), some explicit language, reader can’t swim, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description, canon typical violence, reader almost drowns, mention of Jack, Beth never existed in this okay!, mention of hospitals, team calls reader flower as a nickname! let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Your first impression of Aaron Hotchner was at a lecture at your university. Jason Gideon had been leading the BAU and Hotch had just been an agent at the time, but you had been captivated by his intelligence and the way he carried himself. He was so confident and had this strength about him that drew you in. Not in a romantic way though!

At least that’s what you told yourself.

--

Aaron’s first impression of you was when you had been hired onto the team through Director Cruz. Mateo had brought you along with your file and handed you off to Aaron, informing him that you’d be joining the BAU effective immediately.

Initially Aaron was annoyed, this kind of thing hadn’t always worked out in his favor, having agents assigned to his team without his approval but, looking at you and your impressive file, he knew he had to give you a shot.

Glancing over to you he took note of your beauty. It wasn’t the obvious fake filter-like beauty, but something more natural. You had this air of warmth that radiated off of you, it was the type of energy that just made you feel comfortable around someone. He couldn’t help but think that if he’d met you some other way, that maybe he’d have asked you out.

--

Things between you and Aaron had progressed organically. The two of you had grown pretty close, being one another’s confidant within the team. You weren’t together, but the amount of time you two spent together suggested otherwise.

It all happened pretty quickly.

--

“Does Hotch always stay late?” You asked.

“Uh, yeah pretty much.” Emily laughed.

“What about Jack? He doesn’t go home to be with him? I mean…I, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean that to sound judgy, I just meant like doesn’t he want to go home?” You stuttered.

“I’m sure he wants to go home to Jack. His sister-in-law watches Jack when he can’t, but since Strauss died, they gave Hotch a lot of additional responsibilities for this team. Things that Cruz never took back on, so he has nearly double the workload now that he did back then.” Derek explained.

You stood there stunned to silence as the others packed their bags to head home for the evening. You hadn’t even noticed them making their way to the elevator.

“Aren’t you coming?” JJ questioned.

“You know, I just remembered I forgot to get the file for that case we had in Minnesota back to Hotch. He’ll be pissed if I don’t turn it in before our days off.” You lied.

“Do you want us to wait?” Spencer asked.

“No, you guys go ahead! Enjoy your weekend!”

You sat back down at your desk, attempting to make yourself look busy while the other piled into the elevator. Once the doors had closed you made your way up to his office…unable to hear the others…

“She’s got it bad.” Derek teased.

“So does he.” Rossi confirmed.

You gently knocked on his office door and waited for him to permit your entry. Once he did, you pushed the door open slightly and peaked in, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence.

“Oh hey, what are you still doing here? I figured you’d have left with the others.” Aaron let a slight smile slip past his lips.

“I was going to, but you’re still here. It didn’t feel right going home for the weekend while you are still here working your ass off.”

“I’m the boss, I’m always here working my ass off. Head home, enjoy the time off. Seriously.” Aaron suggested.

“How about instead, I do whatever I can to help you get through your work a little faster and I order dinner for us. Would you prefer tacos or Thai food?” You pulled up your maps app to see restaurants that were nearby.

“You should-”

“Don’t even try to argue with me Hotch.” You threatened.

“Tacos.”

“Perfect.”

--

That night you helped Aaron double-check the case reports and cross reference them to make sure they were all filed properly. It allowed him some extra time to complete some administrative work and when your food arrived, the two of you sat and laughed while enjoying your tacos.

--

Garcia, Emily, and JJ were all clutching their temples while chugging down coffee in hopes to alleviate their hangovers.

Spencer and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle at the girls and the fact that they chose to drink far too much last night, knowing full well they’d need to be up early to cheer on their fearless leader as he completed the annual FBI triathlon.

Dave waved to the others notifying them that he could see Aaron coming around the last corner.

“Wait where’s flower at?” Derek asked.

The team looked around to see if they could spot you, knowing that you would never miss this, given how close you and Aaron had become. Dave chuckled to himself and pointed over to where you were standing with Jack on your shoulders as he held up a large glittering sign.

Everyone cheered as Aaron crossed the finish line only, he didn’t stop to greet the team. He made his was straight to you and Jack, he assisted him in getting down off your shoulders and complimented the beautiful poster he had made.

“I had some help!” Jack replied, gently grabbing your hand.

You’d smile and wish Aaron a job well done.

The team would just watch from afar and wonder how the two of you could be so incredibly oblivious to the love you so obviously shared for one another.

--

“Wooo go Jack!” You cheered.

Aaron couldn’t help but chuckle at you, genuinely loving the bond you’d established with his son. It had started when Jack needed to spend a day at the BAU and you’d gone out of your way to get him snacks and print a few coloring pages for him. It had shifted to something deeper than that not long after. Jack would ask if you could come to the park with them or if you could help him with the poster for his dad or, like today for instance, if you could come to his soccer game.

You had packed up a cooler bag full of drinks and snacks for the three of you. Dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans, Aaron had never thought you looked better. You’d been so casual and comfortable, and when you hopped in the passenger seat of his car that morning something stirred in Aaron. A feeling he wasn’t sure he was ready to feel again, let alone give in to.

“Did you see that? I made a goal!” Jack hollered running over to your waiting embrace.

“I did buddy, you were incredible out there!” You praised.

“Dad, can we all go get lunch now? And maybe then we can go see the new spiderman movie?” Jack pleaded.

“Oh – bud I don’t, I uh. I’m not sure that’s a good –” Aaron fumbled.

“I would love to, as long as it’s not an imposition.” You smiled.

“It’s not! An imposition, I mean.” Aaron clarified.

“Well then! What do you want for lunch Jack?” You asked.

You’d spent the rest of the day with the Hotchner boys, going to lunch and then seeing a movie. Which led to you offering to make them dinner, and building Legos with Jack, and then a nightcap with Aaron. He’d offered you his guestroom and then to drive you home first thing and given that you were both tipsy…you were quick to agree.

What you hadn’t expected was breakfast. He and Jack had gone all out with chocolate chip pancakes…things were feeling a little too domestic. When had things gotten so comfortable?

--

As the feeling stirred in both you and Aaron, you had begun to notice all the little things you did for one another. Things that had just become natural for you both in the time you’d known each other, second nature at this point.

You always slid sticky notes in your case files before turning them in to him. Sometimes they’d contain a doodle of something silly or a quote you’d read somewhere that made you think of him. What you didn’t know is he saved them all. They were tucked away in the back of his desk drawer, a neat pile of multicolored paper, serving as a reminder of how happy you made him.

Aaron shared similar antics…only his served in the form of your favorite tea, left on your desk each morning before the others arrived so they wouldn’t know it was him placing it there. Though they all had their suspicions anyway. Every once in while…usually after tough cases, or if he knew you hadn’t eaten dinner – which he’d know because you’d fall asleep mid-conversation via text – he’d leave a chocolate croissant…your favorite.

--

Aaron had almost let his feelings slip once. Dave had caught the internal battle that Aaron was facing, he wore it as a pained expression and tense shoulders. Dave had reassured him that you were alright and there was no need to worry, only that didn’t help much. You had gotten hurt, and that only proved that it could happen again. This was a dangerous job full of pain and suffering. Aaron realized he couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt.

You had been away on a case; the team had found the unsub and were closing in on him. You had rounded a corner in your chase and came face to face with the man you were after, and he had gotten the upper hand. He’d gotten a few good punches in and knocked you on your ass. Aaron had been quick to return the favor once he caught up.

That is when this need to protect you had grown all consuming. Aaron decided then to offer to train with you, in the hope of improving your self-defense skills a little more. And that is where you found yourself on Thursday evenings. Aaron and you would go to the FBI gym and train for about an hour before going to dinner.

This tradition sort of kept going…it sort of progressed from self-defense training to just working out together. An excuse really, an easy way of spending more time together without it looking too suspicious.

--

Dave had pushed Aaron time and time again, practically begging him to ask you out once and for all. To which Aaron always had the same reply; “She doesn’t feel that way about me and even if she did, it wouldn’t be appropriate”.

“You must be blind if you don’t see how much she cares about you. Or perhaps I was wrong about you being such a skilled profiler.” Dave chided.

“Excuse me?” Aaron was stunned.

“She is in love with you Aaron. You’d have to be an idiot to not realize, and even worse to keep yourselves from the happiness you both deserve.” Dave scolded.

Aaron sat with that for some time…wondering if Dave was right. Maybe enough was enough.

--

This case started out fine…but would quickly become both yours and Aaron’s worst nightmare.

This particular unsub had been murdering people with seemingly no connection. Disposing of their bodies at the South Coast Shipyard in Newport Beach, California.

The team had been working for days, trying to catch this guy. He was meticulous and stuck to his MO, not straying from his routine even the slightest. Spencer had suggested that he might have OCD.

That is what led you guys to the shipyard to try and corner him. Catch him in the act. You’d been on edge about being so close to the water…truthfully you’d always been afraid of it. And one night in a drunken stupor, you’d let it slip to Aaron that you’d never learned how to swim.

So, when Derek shouted out that you were FBI and Mathias Edwards took off running, you’d been a little nervous to chase after him. You’d do your job as expected…but there was a sick feeling in your stomach as you sprinted on the creaky dock.

It was just you Derek and Aaron at the docks, you had been checking things out, knowing that he’d likely be scoping out the area to see what boats were docked so he could find his next dumpsite. You hadn’t expected him to be there so early.

The three of you had split up, chasing after Mathias. You, thanks to all the training with Aaron, were quick on your feet, catching up with him quickly. You were running down a long straight on the docks, carefully avoiding any rope or ties holding boats in place when Mathias jumped out from between two boats, shoving you full force backward into the water. You’d immediately screamed, flailing your arms in a desperate attempt to stay above the surface.

Derek had been coming from the other direction and was able to tackle Mathias and was working to get him in cuffs. It wasn’t until Aaron came around that Derek even knew something was wrong.

“Where is she?” Aaron shouted. “Flower, where is she?”

Derek stood up, pulling Mathias to his feet and shoving him in the direction of the SUV. “Mathias pushed her into the water, I figured she’d swim around to the ladder at the end of the dock.”

“She can’t swim!” Aaron panicked, wasting no time jumping in the water to find you.

Moving swiftly, Derek secured the unsub in the SUV before running back to help Aaron get you out of the water. He’d found you quickly dragging you by your arm to the surface and lifting you into Derek’s waiting hands.

He’d checked for your pulse and when he couldn’t feel it, he began chest compressions. Aaron heaved himself out of the water and back on to the dock and pressed his ear to your chest to listen for any kind of breath sounds.

“Go call for a bus!” Aaron commanded.

Aaron took over CPR and leaned down to listen for your heartbeat once more. When he again heard nothing, he attempted mouth-to-mouth. He continued on like this for a few more seconds before you lurched forward, sputtering up the water that had entered your airways. Aaron helped you sit up and pulled you into his embrace.

“Oh, thank God.” Aaron muttered. “I’ve got you sweetheart.”

--

You were taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital. They wanted to check your vitals and run a few tests to make sure you were alright. Aaron had insisted on riding along with you and held your hand the entire way. He was by your side the whole time.

“You can’t do that to me.” He whispered.

“What?” You rasped.

“You can’t scare me like that sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do if we lost you.” His eyes brimmed with tears.

“The team would be okay.”

“Not them. Me and Jack. We can’t lose you baby. We need you; Jack loves you, hell, I love you too much, I don’t think my heart could take it.” You were both crying now.

“I love you too.”

[seth-whumps]

Any tips for writing the scenes you don't want to write to get to the scenes you do want to write?

Writing When It Sucks: A Quickstart Guide to the Scenes That Hate You Personally

by seth-whumps / sethlost

So, you've got a thousand-word gap between the good scenes, and you've gotta fill it with something. We've all been there—that one sentence in the outline, filling you with irreversible dread—but don’t lose hope. We do have some solutions! I've got three pieces of advice for this situation:

-> Skip The Hard Parts

-> Check Your Variables

-> Change It Up

Long post ahead, folks—you’ve been warned!

Let's start easy, with—

AVOIDANCE

Don't force yourself to write the parts you hate! If it's a scene that's not your thing, just... skip it! If you think it's boring, chances are your readers will feel it, too. If you'd skip it, they'd skip it. Famous authors do this alllllll the time. Don't deny yourself the privilege.

Remember, you don’t have to write chronologically. Write the good parts when you want to write them.

You gotta get to December? Skip to it.

You have a long ass captivity scene you don't want to bore yourself with? Skip it.

Does this scene just inspire you to stop writing forever? SKIP IT.

If it sucks, hit da bricks, as we Tumblrinas say.

Now, I hear you. "But if I do that with every scene that troubles me, I'll have hardly any scenes at all!"

Welcome to writing. It sucks. However, I'll let you in on the best tip I have ever learned from Reddit Dot Com—

CHECK YOUR VARIABLES

Your story, whether big or small, is built from several puzzle pieces! We'll call these your Story Variables. They can include:

Physical:

-> Heroes - your main people!

-> Villains - you’ve gotta have an antagonist somewhere, yknow?

-> Setting/Genre - solarpunk? ancient Arthurian myth? literally just New York City?

-> Locations - home base, headquarters, the villain’s lair, high school, etc

Narrative:

-> Main plot - getting the hero from point A to Z

-> Sideplots - character development, romance, betrayal and redemption arcs

-> Motivations - what do your characters want? what does your setting want?

-> Ending - where is it all going towards?

Audience:

-> Morals/messages - what’s the point of the story? what are you discussing or exploring throughout?

-> Metaphors - what’s the language you’re using to paint a picture?

-> Emotions - and the language you’re using to invoke a feeling?

-> Satisfaction - do you want your audience to feel satisfied? do you not? where and why?

If you're stuck on a scene, you may have an underdeveloped variable, or a missing one altogether. You can fix this by interrogating the absolute hell out of your story. Here's a few questions to get you started:

Do you know your ending? Is this scene guiding you towards it?

What emotions are you trying to portray? Where can you show that in this scene?

Where's your current location? Are you using it as a character in your story?

What drives your heroes? Your villains? How can you make them more obvious?

Are you considering your side plots and character development arcs?

Is this scene contributing to the satisfaction of your story?

You might be saying, "But wait! I'm only writing a little thing! I don't have the time/energy to think about all that!"

That's okay! I hear you. But it's not hopeless. I've still got something to help—

CHANGING IT UP

Hobbyists work in styles. It's hard to develop one, and often it comes from years of practice and study, but there's a way you can streamline it to your advantage. Think of it this way:

-> If you don't like drawing noses, change the way you draw them.

-> If your crocheting tools don't feel right, find ones that suit you.

-> If a chord on the guitar is too difficult, use an alternate fingering.

NEWS FLASH: it's the same for writing.

If something isn't working, you have every ability to do it differently. There's very little right and wrong, here. Don't confine yourself to one generalized "type" of writing--branch out until you find what works for you. Let's start by thinking about what you're struggling on.

Physical movements? Blocking? You might be having trouble visualizing what the scene needs to contain.

Draw the layout of your location. Use random pieces to represent your characters. Play dolls.

Keep it simple. Write exactly what happens, no more and no less.

Another post on Tumblr blew up, advising you to try writing the scene with only dialogue, and adding the actions later.

Emotional weight? Prose? This one's tricky, but I've got some advice regardless.

Change your sentence structure. Focus on the rhythm of the words. Worry less about grammar, and pay attention to the picture, the painting, the music.

Or, in opposition, write it exactly like it is. Come back to prose it up once you've got the scene skeletonized.

What's your moral/metaphor? Thread it throughout. Come back to it often. This'll tie up the story into something cohesive and cinematic.

Organization? The actual, nitty-gritty content of the scene? Think about what the purpose of the scene is, then consider the following.

Start with a bullet point list of everything you want to include. Think of details, interactions, and movements. Spam as many as you can think of, until you've got a substantial list of meat and seasoning you can sprinkle in as necessary.

Check in on your variables. Where does the scene need to end? What's the most convoluted path it could take to get there?

Introduce a new variable. Treat everything like a character in the story. Is the location an old building? Have it collapse. Is the ending too close for comfort? Drive the story in the opposite direction.

Most of all, mess around. Do what comes naturally, and if something isn't working, do it differently until it does. Writing is fun, despite everything about writing--so workshop it until it's fun again.

Whoops! That got very long. I hope this helps at least a bit, and if you've got any questions at all, Anon, feel free to ask! I'm sorry for the wait on this ask, by the way. I wanted to give it justice.

I'd be happy to go more in depth on anything mentioned here. I love talking through my thought processes while writing.

And as a disclaimer, none of what is said here is law. It's just what I've gathered through practice, and through following incredible people. There's no rules! Do what feels right!

Anyway! Thanks for reading, folks. See you in the next one [salutes]

Seth, signing off!

dividers by @/saradika-graphics, link in pinned post

[anghraine]

So I just discovered a cool conversation that spun off from one of my tag monologues on a gifset—I'd seen the initial tag peer review, but hadn't realized they'd gone further than that until @ladytharen tagged me. Yet again I didn't want to pester the original gifmaker too much, so I decided to respond separately to the part I found especially interesting.

For context, these were my original tags on the "This little thing? Just something I slipped on :)" Kirk captivity scene from "Tomorrow is Yesterday":

#captain gender strikes again! #i appreciate the read on this scene as 'captain kirk is a queer guy flirting with random 20th cent dudes holding him captive. bicon' #but personally my read is 'captain kirk is a queer guy deliberately leaning into effeminacy to fuck with hypermasc douchebros #from the very era in which the show was made irl. bicon' #it's definitely flirty but it is an aggressively feminine-coded flirtiness that's going to triply bother these kinds of guys #ngl i feel like kirk enjoys fucking with gender norms in all directions just because of who he is as a person (his true gender: diva) #but it's extra fun when it lets him troll ultra-military assholes neurotic about their own masculinity who are trying to intimidate HIM #(these guys aren't his type at all - christopher is much more that - but as usual that's not the point of the flirtation #k/s is nerd4nerd but also troll4troll)

I was really intrigued by this response from @mycroftrh, and thinking about it again on this inauguration of Pride month.

#yeah#in a certain context queerness and effeminacy are power#these are also unfortunately often the same contexts where queerness can get you hate crimed#but if you’re gonna be beat up/killed anyway…#you might as well make the homophobes maximally uncomfortable first

Yep, exactly. You can absolutely see the moment when he decides on exactly which side of his personality he's going to use for maximum effect on these gender policing, homophobic, ultra-military, paranoid bigots from the 60s:

I do think it's interesting that the full scene includes not only Kirk's bisexual chaos gremlin diva genderfuckery (enrichment for him!) but moments of fear and defiance:

He doesn't drop the flamboyance until he wants to, though. And the framing, lighting, angles etc only serve to emphasize their attempts to loom even more over him, aggressively get into his space, gesture right at his face to unsettle him, and his refusal to be intimidated by these fundamentally pathetic responses that are by no means free from real danger, just silly and contemptible nevertheless. It's not that he's too disdainful or amused at his own hijinks to understand how easily this could go very wrong. He simply has no respect for these men and enjoys leveraging their own hang-ups against them.

His eye make-up is also more than usually noticeable in the close-ups in this scene—even compared to other scenes in the same episode—which seems maybe not unrelated!

I think it's also worth pointing out that, TOS make-up aside, Kirk's navigation of gender performance in the original series is ... let's say, idiosyncratic. Most of the 23rd-century male characters are far more inflexible and singular about what gendered roles they're willing or able to inhabit. Kirk specifically is very deliberately fluid and versatile and theatrical about a lot of things, very much including gender performance and sexuality.

[laseracronym]

Yandere Aizawa?? Love to see a stoic feral man, and you always write him so well 🙌

Aw, thank you :) He's such a great character and fun to write for, I'm glad you think I write him well. ^u^

Yandere Aizawa has me just as feral as he would be lmao. I cooked up some headcanons for him and there will be some NSFW in a designated section at the end. Enjoy ;)

Content: Yandere, stalking, kidnapping, dubcon.

Yandere!Aizawa Headcanons

This one's impossible to escape. If he's set on not letting you go, then that's it, that's your life from now on.

Aizawa's the type of yandere that you might not even know who he is until he's caught you. You could be a stranger in the street that's caught his eye and he'll spend months observing you, covertly trailing you from a distance. He'll put all that experience as an underground hero into his obsession with you, stalking you, digging into your past, building up a shrine to you within his mind of who you are. You'll never see him coming.

He views you as helpless and weak (regardless of whether or not that's true). Aizawa is a man that's scared of losing those he cares about, and what drives him as a yandere is just how fragile you are, at how easily you could be hurt, or worse. He's aware that his obsession with you is unhealthy, but he keeps finding ways to justify his mindset. Who knows what could happen to you out in that dangerous world? You would be so much better off with someone like him to protect you. You would be so much better off if he just...kept you all to himself.

Up close, he’s actually quite stiff and awkward with you, so overwhelmed with his feelings for you that he reverts to a more stern, perhaps intimidating, demeanor. This isn’t a yandere that can charm his way naturally into your life, but that’s not to say he isn’t capable of manipulation. Once he has you in his clutches, he’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you there. He’s not above blackmailing you to keep you in line. For example, say you’re a vigilante or a villain, he has no problem suggesting a harsh prison sentence awaits you should you try to escape. “Logical ruses” and all that.

While he won’t ever hurt you or even threaten violence to keep you in line, Aizawa will restrain you if he deems it necessary. He doesn’t have a problem with being seen as the “bad guy” if it means keeping you safe. Expect locked doors at every turn, being chained to the bed by your ankle or even more restrictively should you prove to be unruly enough. He’ll even hold you down himself if it means getting the point across. You’re not going anywhere.

It does ultimately end in captivity with him. His attempts at justification only go so far until Aizawa decides he doesn’t care, he’s going to commit to keeping you anyway. Even if it goes against everything he stands for, even if it makes him a villain in every sense of the word, it’ll keep you safe, and that’s what matters to him.

He does try to be a good captor (if something like that is even possible). His actions towards you are out of care and not meant to be a punishment. He tries to keep you happy and entertained, providing you with whatever you ask for, so long as it’s not your freedom. If he thinks he can trust you, he might even take you for (very limited) outings. The life he offers you is one of a well-cherished pet, which could be its own kind of hell when all is said and done.

NSFW

His decision to keep you is far from pure. Yes, his desire to keep you safe is the main driving force, but it’s not the only desire he feels for you. No one’s ever caught his attention quite like you have. Before he found you, his life was consumed by his work as a hero and a teacher. He sometimes spared time for his few close friends, but rarely for romance or sex. Then you came along and he finds himself fantasizing, hungering, for the first time in ages.

He has to admit, once he has you in his clutches, he’s glad to have you away from the eyes of others, that he’s the only one that has access to you now. There’s no doubt in him now that he’s a bad man, a good man wouldn’t do what he’s done to you, but how bad of a man is he? He has you protected and safe from the rest of the world, but are you safe from him?

Aizawa can’t help but get closer, indulge himself a little. He gets in your personal space, even if it makes you nervous, just to feel your body heat. He pats your head, squeezes your waist as he walks by, rests a hand on your knee, trying to get you used to his touch. He has enough decency left to not take too much, to not simply force his way past that final line. He hopes you’ll one day ask for more from him, banking on the fact that he’s the only company you have now, and everyone has needs, don’t they?

But give an inch, and he’ll take a mile. If you, in your isolation and loneliness, seek intimacy with him, you’ll never be rid of him. He’ll make a home for himself between your thighs, content to pleasure you for hours, your thoughts turning to mush as he unravels you on his tongue over and over. Yes, he takes great enjoyment in satisfying you, but it’s also a way to ease his own guilt. When you’re calling his name so sweetly, you must not completely hate him, right? Your captivity can’t be so bad for you if you’re clinging to him, your pussy gripping his cock so greedily. You must see something positive in this, in him.

From then on, Aizawa sees sex as a means of placation, of apology, of distraction, a way to keep you content amidst the suffocation of your life with him. He’s always been a man of action rather than words, after all. He’s never been able to talk you into accepting your circumstances, but maybe his body can convince you.

(Requests)

[heartyluv]

Note: This is a little self indulgent because despite how cringey these movies are, I loveee Fifty Shades of Grey. Was never really a Jamie Dornan girlie, but I felt this worked the best. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, my luv. And thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy! Please —Click Here— to view the ask if you’d like!

Warning: Zayne’s a little jelly, but it’s nothing serious.

Word Count: 946 ~ i’m sorry if this is too short :(

Zayne/Reader

Your boyfriend was having an…interesting time, trying to figure out what about this film had you captivated. What about this woman blindly trusting and agreeing to have—something be ruled as explorative—sex with a rich stranger, had you so infatuated. So much so that you’ve watched it dozens of times.

“Why would he tell her that she must steer clear of him if he’s the one who invited her out for coffee in the first place? Surely he could tell she wasn’t someone to care only for the physical aspects of a relationship.” He was completely perplexed.

Zayne wasn’t a fan of romance movies. Not because they were inferior or anything, they simply weren’t his cup of tea. And scenes like this proved to him why he felt that way.

“It’s to build the characters and the foundation for his development, babe,” you chuckled. “He wants her, but can’t have her type of thing.”

“He is a billionaire and she clearly seems willing to indulge him. In fact, he’s the one to push her away. What is the issue?”

Your sweet and very matter-of-fact lover has always reminded you of an alien trying to understand Earth and the behaviors of humans for the first time when it came to him attempting to enjoy some of the things that you liked. He would always join you when you asked and if he was available, but you knew to be prepared for him to ask you all kinds of questions to better understand.

You honestly loved it, being able to enlighten him about things in the same way he does you with absolutely, well—everything. Even if it’s fiction, you still were like his trusted guide.

He occasionally looked between you and the screen as you two sat cuddled up on the couch, beginning to realize that it wasn’t particularly the movie itself and its…questionable story that always brought you back.

It was the man.

He noticed how you’d bite your lip and smile when this Christian Grey would say lines so cliche and cringey that it nearly made his eyebrows touch.

“You like him.” It wasn’t a question. Factually, an observation.

You turn to look at him, pressing your lips together to suppress your smile. “He’s like…my celebrity crush, kinda. I guess. But you’re my boo, Zayne. You know that.”

“I do,” he responds with confidence. “This crush. I didn’t know you had one. I can’t decide if it’s cute or not.”

You pout your lips and smile fully this time, gently nudging his side. “Awww, don’t tell me you’re jealous, babe.”

“I’m not—” His jaw clenches and the blue light of the TV lets you see how his ears began to tinge red. He looks back at the screen. “Jealous isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Mhmm,” you hum, kissing his shoulder through his shirt.

The movie progresses and Zayne knew there would be sex involved based on the brief description you gave to convince him to watch it with you. What he didn’t expect was the first time between the two characters, to be so intimate.

The music, the atmosphere—it was certainly unique for the type of trope that was being portrayed.

He looked over at you again subtly, his perfect brows raising when he sees how intensely you stare at the way Christian pulled Ana’s jeans down. How your thighs shifted and pressed together beneath the blankets when he kissed down her stomach until he got between her legs.

It was very easy as your man and your doctor to notice subtle changes about you. So naturally, he saw the way your breath increased and stared closer to see how your heartbeat was thumping faster right beneath your jaw.

Even how your damn pupils dilated when Christian ripped the foil wrapper of the condom open between his teeth.

Yeah, he was cutting this off.

You were taken out of your trance-like state when he grabbed the remote and paused the film, leaning over to turn the lamp on.

“Zayne!” you exclaim with a slight whine. “Why’d you stop it like that?!”

“Are you aroused?” He asks you so flatly and abruptly that it’s amusing. Well, it would be if you weren’t being questioned like you were sitting on his examination table and not in your living room.

“What does that even matter?!”

“Because your answer will determine if we will continue watching.”

“So you are jealous!”

“Can you blame me for feeling that way? You’re close to drooling over everything this…person says and does like you wouldn’t be cringing from inside out if you heard any of it in real life.”

“Oh, pooka butt.” Your tone raises a few octaves like you’re trying to coddle a baby. The corner of his mouth tilts in slight amusement at your teasing. as you pull him in to wrap your arms around him.

“Come to mama,” you coo when you squeeze him tight. “You know how much I love you, Zayne. In every universe and in any crowded room full of thousands of Jamie Dornans, I’d always pick you.”

“Frankly, I wouldn’t give you a choice, but the sentiment is…sweet, I suppose.”

“Okayyyyy,” you stretch out the syllable with an exaggerated, but playful sigh. “Don’t ruin my attempt to assure and love on you.”

“You’re right. My apologies. Please,” he presses a kiss right below your ear. “Continue.”

“If I continue anything, it won’t be with words…” you flirt.

“Actions do tend to show you what words can’t, or so I’ve heard. Maybe you should prove how much you love me.”

Creds to @/sweetmelodygraphics for the dividers!

A/N: I honestly don’t know how well I did with this…Time to shut my phone down LOLLL

[scatter-snz]

Best Laid Plans - Part 1

Details: 9k, Male sneezes, no pairing (yet..)

Summary: A secret agent is going undercover for a few days, and his target has a sneeze fetish. The agency’s best engineer has constructed something to give him an edge.

PART 1 - PART 2

My first original piece I've posted here!

This is VERY self-indulgent so you’ll have to excuse me lol. It’s like.. lizard brain horny. Seriously lol. Slapping NSFW on here for good measure. It’s rare I get embarrassed about my kink nowadays but I feel a little embarrassed about this one. Still, I had fun writing it! I hope someone else can enjoy it too! 

These are original characters, all in their mid twenties to early thirties! This story was inspired by @testingtwns writing. She has such captivating descriptions, spectacular characterizations, and fascinating world lore. (If you would prefer I remove this shoutout, Red, please let me know! Your stuff is just so great!)

(Warnings: Unrealistic science, my cringe attempt at sneeze characterization, Mess Lite™, questionable workplace dynamics, general horny undertones and overtones, accidental boners and feeling pleasure from sneezing).

THIS STORY IS NSFW!

-

It was never a great morning when Agent Omicron found himself in Dr. Anita Voster’s lab. She was a little eccentric, he thought, and liked to make mischief. Not a good combination for a scientist. Still, she was the best in the force and the one assigned to his case by the powers that be. He knew why he was reporting to Dr. Voster’s lab and he knew what his bosses would say - The sooner you report to Dr. Voster, the sooner you can begin your work.

Omicron reported to her lab sharply at 0800, shrugged off his suit jacket at her behest, and sat himself down in her vaguely threatening patient chair for the administration of her invention. Dr. Voster was far too giddy in handing over a small container of nasal spray. It looked harmless, but Omicron knew better.

“This,” he said, inspecting the bottle, “will make me sick?”

“Something like that,” Dr. Voster replied. She fetched the bottle from his hand as she spoke, and rolled a plush stool over to sit as they talked. “This virus was engineered specifically to make you sneeze, so think of it like a cold in your nose.”

“Similar to allergies?”

“Yes, if you were allergic to air.”

Omicron sighed. He wasn’t in the business of complaining, but this was going to be challenging. He crossed his arms, trying not to fidget. “How long does it last?”

“Just long enough to see you through the mission. Your symptoms should abate by Thursday.”

So he’d be sick the entire time, essentially. Great. His leg started to bounce.

“Will this slow me down?” he asked. Dr. Voster arched a look over her safety glasses. He clarified himself. “Am I going to feel like shit?”

She smirked at him. “Are you one of those man-cold types?”

Heat swept over his ears and burned the back of his neck, and her smile only widened. He crunched his brows with a glare. “No, I’m just being thorough. If this will compromise my performance in any way, I want to know about it.”

“It won’t,” she chuckled, and he tried not to get defensive at the amusement in her voice. “Like I said, the primary function of this virus is to make you sneeze. You’ll be contending with some nasal congestion, but aside from that you’ll be fine.”

That was easy for her to say. She wasn’t going undercover into enemy territory. He tensed as she snapped on a pair of gloves and looped on a face mask. When she uncapped the bottle, he cleared his throat. “The paperwork said something about me being more ‘suggestible?’ What does that mean?”

She huffed at his air quotes and yanked down her mask. “It means you’ll be vulnerable to psychosomatic triggers. In other words, if you think hard enough about sneezing, you’ll prompt one.”

“That sounds unlikely.”

“We have testing data to support it,” she chastised, and yanked her mask back up. “It was a goal for the formula. We thought you might find it handy to take matters into your own hands if a sneeze wasn’t forthcoming.”

“For.. what? Tactical measures?”

“Yes, strategic options. Now, tilt your head and relax.”

He reluctantly settled back into the cushioned chair, sniffing in preparation. One of her latex hands moved to cradle his jaw and keep him still as she nudged the applicator up the right side. It was wide enough to graze the sides of his nostrils, and he felt them flare in response.

“Okay, deep breath..”

Swallowing, he breathed slowly, deeply through his nose. A fffssh from the bottle yielded a mist of curiously warm aerosol that instantly coated the skin. He flinched a wrist up to his mouth to cough in response. It felt suddenly like his nose was running, so he sniffed, sniffed, and sniffed again. A strong flavor coated the back of his throat.

“Why is it salty?”

“Well, we didn’t intentionally flavor it,” she said, already moving to his left nostril. “Probably the saline. We used it as a base. Now, give me another big breath.”

He did as he was told, and again a warm puff of wetness invaded his nose. And another. And another. They performed this three times for each nostril, alternating sides, and the last one rubbed him wrong. A tiny tickle ignited. Omicron warded Dr. Voster back with one cautious hand as the other routed to his nose. He anchored his forefinger beneath his nostrils, pressing deliberately against his septum as he parted his lips to breathe. Voster snorted at him as she set the bottle aside.

“I thought that only worked in cartoons.”

“And on me,” he mumbled in a heady voice. 

It took a moment of concentrated effort, but the urge passed. He sniffed, a little wetter this time as he blinked away tears. Agent Omicron was an old hand at holding back sneezes. Sudden, uncontrolled outbursts weren’t great for business when he was out in the field. That, and he generally didn’t like to draw attention to himself even in civilian life. He caught Dr. Voster smiling at him and his brows trenched.

“What now?”

“I’m not into sneezing,” she told him as she capped the bottle, “but that was pretty cute. Your target won’t stand a chance, Mr. Honey Pot.”

He replied with a scowl and one more see-sawing rub beneath his nose. “When does this kick in?”

“Give it twenty-four hours,” she said, and snapped off her gloves. “I’ll check on you then to make sure it took.”

He stood and slipped back into his jacket, straightened his tie. “Isn’t this cutting it a little close? I’m flying out tomorrow.”

“Maybe, but we didn’t want your poor nose suffering anymore than it has to,” she cooed, and punctuated this with a little tap of her knuckle to his septum. He swatted her away.

“Stop.”

“Oohhh,” she pouted, leaning a hip against her workstation. “Always so serious, Agent O.”

Omicron lurked a warning glare her way as he adjusted his sleeve cuffs and shirt collar. “I’ll be back in 2400.”

---

And he was, though he dragged his feet most of the way.

Omicron believed Dr. Voster when she said this nasal spray contained a virus that would cause his nose some hell, but he didn’t quite understand just how.. intense the experience would be. 

He sniffled, a necessary indignity since he woke up this morning, and the slow, deliberate flare of that ever-present irritation beckoned him toward an unavoidable conclusion. Still, Omicron shoved the hard edge of his finger beneath his nose and tilted his head back for another whip-crack sniff. It flared the tickle dangerously, but the steady breakwater against his septum kept him in the clear. His nostrils twitched and he pinched them, rubbing rubbing rubbing until he heard the embarrassing squelch of something wet in his nose.

Another strong sniff, and a weak huhh on his exhale. Shit. He wiped his hand on the side of his pants with a grimace. He’d have to start carrying tissues.

“There he is!” Dr. Voster greeted him with a disarming smile, but he could see the hawklike way she zeroed in on his nose. He tried not to sniffle. “How’s my magnum opus treating you?”

It’s bullying me, Omicron thought, but as he laced his hands properly behind his back, what he said instead was, “It’s working.”

“Oh, is it?” she said. She wasn’t even trying to mask the delight in her voice now as she crowded him back into her exam chair. “Let me take a look.”

He stared hard at the ceiling as she slipped on gloves and wheeled forward on her stool, leaning over him like a dentist. He hated the dentist. A warm trickle of wetness prompted an automatic sniff, and a huffing exhale when that far-back tickle teased him.

“Runny nose?” she chirped, using her thumb to gently coax his nostril open. She held an otoscope with her other hand, using the little light to peer up his nose. Omicron tried not to shrivel in embarrassment as she crooned with sympathy. “Oooh, poor thing. You’re so inflamed..”

“Wasn’t that the idea?” he sighed, and sniffled again. A spark somewhere in his sinuses caused him a hard blink.

“Yes, but it must tickle so much..”

In response to her words, another spark snapped inside him. Like striking flint to burn kindling. Another reflexive sniffle. His eyes began to water. 

“It must feel like something fuzzy is stuck up there,” she was saying, rubbing her thumb softly against the quivering edge of his nostril. “Every time you breathe, this fluffy thing, lodged in place and too far for you to reach..”

The frantic efforts of the virus continued, tenacious now in its purpose. The fuse caught, as did Omicron’s next inhale. His chest hitched with a stutter. He tried to reach up, finger extended and ready, but Voster caught his wrist and pinned it back down to the chair arm.

“It must be new for you, to be so out of control. This thing inside you, tickling so sweetly, growing unbearable, and there’s nothing you can do but submit.”

That tantalizing feeling got worse. The line of gunpowder trailing through his pulsing nostrils lit up with an unstoppable blaze. It raced through him, and Omicron couldn’t do anything but give it fuel. He gasped hugely, his chest straining against the buttons of his shirt. The exhale crashed out of him clumsily, unrelieved.

“H-HUHhh..”

Dr. Voster leaned away, but set her otoscope aside to pin his other wrist when he reflexively raised it to ward off what was coming. “Don’t fight it, Omicron. That tickle nestled in your nose was built for this. Listen to it. You two are a team, remember?”

Omicron couldn’t even open his eyes, the sensation held him so powerfully. It felt alive, calculated, somehow vying for control. He snatched in another soft breath, breathed it out on a moan, and then gasped again. His lungs strained to accommodate as that demanding tickle wanted more.. more..

He huffed out another helpless groan. “HHUHhhh..”

His hands flinched toward his face, but met resistance. A tear surfed down his cheek and dripped off his chin. He gasped- gasped-! “.. hH-hiIHH-!”

The sensation crested, and finally, overcame him.

“HHZZZSSSCHOOO!!”

The force of it threw him forward. It was the loudest, strongest sneeze he’d ever sneezed, but somehow it didn’t feel big enough. Cool, tingling aftermath quickly gathered a second storm. This time, Omicron didn’t do anything but breathe into it.

“..hhHI’JJIZZSHHUE!”

Another uncharacteristically enormous sneeze. His wrists were free, but he didn’t even bother to cover his mouth or muffle into his elbow. Usually he’d rather disintegrate than sneeze freely even in his own home, but.. this tickle.. he just wanted to let it.. let it do.. 

“HEH’CHIZSHOoo!”

.. do whatever it wanted. And what it wanted was complete and utter domination. Omicron sniffled helplessly, half-aware he was leaking out of more than one orifice but too punch-drunk to do much about it. His breath caught fitfully in his throat and he-.. 

“-idzhih.. HID’ISSsshoo!.. huhh..”

Omicron leaned over to press hands over his eyes, his palms coming away wet. He was normally a one-and-done guy, with fairly normal-sized sneezes; this many at this size had him light-headed. His breath hitched again, quick like the strike of a viper, before he let it go on a sigh. And another, just the same. It felt like hiccups. He didn’t dare touch his nose, too wary of setting off the wrath of this thing deep inside him. Instead he just sniffled pitifully, catching his breath.

There was a tap on his shoulder. He glanced askance to a sheepish looking Dr. Voster who was offering a box of tissues. He snatched several, still too dazed to be properly embarrassed as he blew a wet, crackling sound into the wad of them. It took a few rounds, but when he finished he cleared his throat and blinked at her with teary eyes.

“What the fuck, Anita.”

“Sorry,” she winced, and she actually did seem sorry. “I wanted to test the ‘suggestible’ variable and you reacted more strongly than I anticipated. Also, um.. bless you, by the way.”

He sat back against the seat with a stuffy sniffle, arms crossed, and now that he was more aware of himself, valiantly fighting down the urge to blush. “Yes, well. You were just doing your job, so I can’t be mad.”

She hedged a nervous smile. “Can’t be, or shouldn’t be?”

He gusted a long sigh, reaching up to rub the bridge of his nose when somehow even the rumble of his own voice stirred the residual dust of another sinus-deep tickle. “Do you need to test anything else, or can I go?”

His voice had lost most of its resonance from the sneeze attack as the congestion set in -- not yet enough to blunt his consonants but enough to dull the overall sound. Moisture skated down the side of his nose and Omicron wrinkled it with another snuffle that moved nothing at all. How could his nose be both dripping and completely blocked? He indulged a rub this time, soothing his nostrils to stillness with the tempering back-and-forth of his index finger.

The doctor’s voice broke the quiet. “How does it feel?”

Omicron peered up at her, finger still held to his upper lip. “Pardon?”

“Your nose,” she clarified, but not by much. “How does it feel?” He scoffed and stood to leave. She stood to stop him, holding both hands out as if to placate him. “I’m not teasing you. I really do need to know. Are you in pain?”

“No,” he said, chest lifting with another short sniff. He pressed harder against his septum, rubbing in earnest now as the tickle began gathering momentum. It stalled against the wrangling touch, but didn’t back down. “No pain.”

“But it does tickle?”

“I believe we’ve estahh..hkrrrm!” He cleared his throat to steady his voice. “.. established that, yes.”

She eyed him, her gaze trailing down to the finger glued beneath his nose. “You shouldn’t try to hold them off, Omicron. It might be why your sneezing earlier was so extreme.”

All this talk of sneezing was just emboldening the tickle. It’s like the sensation was surging forward, eager to answer to the call of its name. His eyes fluttered closed and he pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth to try and waylay another gasping breath. His nostrils pulsed against his finger, prompting him to pinch them instead, but still they tried to flare against his grip. He heard Dr. Voster sigh.

“I don’t know why they picked you for this mission,” she muttered, just loud enough to be heard. “If you’re too shy to sneeze, you’re going to lose your target pretty much instantly.”

His eyes sliced open, as defiant as his nose still squirming between his fingers. His voice was bottled back in his throat completely. “I’b dnot shy, I’b.. I’b jhhss.. hooh..”

The tickle hijacked his voice, tremoring it on a snatchy inhale. It prickled ominously behind his eyes, insistent, and Omicron stayed perfectly still in an effort to tame it. Even with his nose plugged and his fervent attempts to rub the sensation away, the tickle persisted. It dragged another breath in on a soft gasp, out on another dreading utterance.

“.. H-Ihih!.. ohh..”

“You’re so stubborn,” said Dr. Voster, and he could hear her rolling her eyes. He’d known her for years, and while he tried to rise above her goading taunts, there always came a point when she got to him.

Omicron let go of his nose and took as long and deep of a breath as he could through his trembling nostrils. The tickle welcomed it, greedily advancing, and rather than prolong the fight Omicron simply braced his hands on his knees to keep his balance as the sensation built inside him. As Dr. Voster so strangely asserted during his last volley, he and this virus were a team. He wouldn’t see the success of this mission without it.

It was this thought that compelled him to breathe again, a sniff that coasted directly into a gasp. He waited, hovering on the edge of it, but the sneeze backed away just before he could snatch it. Omicron squinted up at Dr. Voster, who was watching him with bald interest.

“Iihhff… hoo..” He sniffled, abandoning all dignity as he snubbed the wet edges of his nostrils against the sleeve of his suit. “If I let this tiH.. tiihckle ha..uuHUhh.. have its way ev..” 

His eyes fluttered closed, and he snatched in a series of chuffing breaths. Each was a shrill gasp followed by a bleating exhale, utterly beyond his power to stop. The crescendo carried him into increasingly higher and faster octaves, before the sneeze ripped out of him with gusto.

“HAH’CHIZSHOO!-ohhhh..” He swayed on his feet, panting at the ground, and was shocked to find in the tingling aftermath how good that felt. It made it easier to let the next one swell and crash out of him. “..HIH’SSschoo!- fuck mbe..”

Omicron rarely swore aloud, but the power and sheer abandon of these sneezes were so unlike his usual that he couldn’t help it. Through the haze of another rising tickle, he tried to hurry through the rest of his thoughts before he completely forgot what he was saying.

“If I let it have.. hahve it’s wayiiiiee..ig’GIZZSCHue!!-hah... I’ll be sdnee.. sdiizz.. HIZZSSSHOO!!..ughh, sdeezig for..fuh! UH!hhh.. for days.” He finished on a sigh, unrelieved, one hand now holding desperately onto the chair so he didn’t end up on his knees.

Dr. Voster didn’t immediately speak and when he finally blinked away blurry tears, he found her biting her lip with a worried crease between her eyes. “.. Do you always sneeze like this when you catch a cold?”

Even the very word caused his nose to buzz. His willpower was all but shredded, so he clamped onto the chair with his other hand and threw his head down with a body-shaking, “IID’DZZSSSSSTTH!!”

It was an unfortunate sneeze, one that painted his tie and the seat of the chair with its aftermath. Omicron didn’t have the energy to blush about it; honestly, this was all Anita’s fault so if he happened to catch her furniture in the crossfire of his helpless sneezing fit he.. heeeeeeee-

“HEEZZZSHOOO!!” He stumbled forward into a suspended tray of implements that crashed to the ground in a tremendous clatter. Omicron paid it no mind, tilting his head back to the fluorescent lights in an effort to keep his running nose at bay. “Ugh, won’t it st.. uh.. ohh.. hH!”

A bridge of pressure appeared beneath his septum, pressing firmly against it. He cracked his eyes open to find Dr. Voster beside him, her finger fearlessly anchored beneath his flaring nostrils. They threatened another revolt, under the tickle’s full command. That enduring, swelling force inside Omicron begged again for release and he gasped loudly against Dr. Voster.

“..hihHIT-!”

“Nope, nope, nope,” she muttered, pressing even harder against his nose. “Work with me here..”

Omicron had no idea if she was talking to him, or the virus, but both struggled to comply. The maddening prickle became tortuous. His nose cried out for relief, as the tickle played his sinuses like a fine instrument. Holding it back now seemed impossible. And to be frank, he was still a bit irked with Anita. He flicked his gaze up to the lights, sensitive enough that the bright flash of them set alight the simmering fuse inside him.

And, because he was a gentleman, he did try to warn her. “.. caahh.. cahhdd..”

“O, don’t you dare. I know you have more control than this, just-”

He heaved his way through an ominous buildup, letting the tickle dictate the pace of his breath until it brought him to the brink. His chest inflated, pressing against Dr. Voster as she fought to the end to keep him together. She pressed hard enough that he half-wondered if his nose would bruise, but no amount of pressure could tide it back. He threw both of them forward with a sneeze scraped up from the depths of his lungs.

“HAAAZZSCHHOOOO!!-ooohhhhh..” 

His knees felt a bit weak after that one, but for the first time since he’d woken up that morning, his nose tingled with welcome relief. It would be brief, he was certain, but he’d take the reprieve while he had it. The satisfaction of the fit filled his head with a pleased emptiness as he teetered his way around the edge of the chair and dropped to sit there. He tried to catch his breath.

“Agent Omicron, I swear to god,” groused Dr. Voster. He cracked his eyes open to see her ripping out more than a dozen tissues to throw at him. “You did that on purpose.”

He gathered them up and groaned wetly into the white bouquet. His voice was an achy croak. “I had no control over that, I promise you..”

Dr. Voster washed her hands at the sink and joined him on her stool when she finished. By that time, he’d managed to make himself somewhat presentable. His suit was a bit of a lost cause, but with luck the stains would dry into something less noticeable before his flight.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said, and there was a serious quality to her question. “Do you always sneeze like this when you catch cold?”

Omicron shook his head, bringing another bunch of tissues to his face to blow. ‘Sore throat’ may not have been an intended symptom, but it soon would be if he kept shouting sneezes on the hour. He massaged his sinuses through the thin paper, already hopelessly stuffed up as he tried to suck in a sniffle. It just made him cough.

Dr. Voster was muttering beside him. “.. may have hit you harder than intended..”

“Whad was that?” he asked. He didn’t bother masking the reproach in his tone. She sighed and adjusted her glasses.

“I said, I may have underestimated how reactive you’d be,” she admitted. “You rarely sneeze, so I thought your sinuses weren’t sensitive.”

“I have to sdneeze all the time,” Omicron admitted in turn with a sawing rub beneath his nostrils. “I’b just good at holding themb back.”

Dr. Voster stared at him a moment, then bent over her knees with a sound of pure frustration. “Omicron. You should have TOLD me that in the INTAKE INTERVIEW.”

Omicron startled in his seat, sputtering with insult. “Are you tryi’g to make this mby fault? I answered all your questions honestly!”

“I asked you if you sneeze a lot when you’re sick and you said no!!”

“Thad’s because I DON’D!” 

His throat didn’t take kindly to the treatment and he turned away to cough. He yanked out more tissues, determined to free his consonants with a noseblow. Nothing moved, and all he got was another threatening jab from the tickle for his trouble. Oh, please not again, he thought, blinking at the sensation.

“Then what do you call this, O? Are you sneezing for fun?”

Anita’s voice called him briefly back to his ire. “I almost never sneeze this much when I’m sick! In fact I sdneeze more when I’m well, I-..”

He stopped, and Dr. Voster watched him with bare worry as he wrestled with what could be another punishing sneezing fit. Omicron learned his lesson from before, and he didn’t try to fight it at all. Just gave himself over to the feverish tickling until it snagged his breath in one fell swoop.

“H-ih.. TZSshoo!” 

He waited briefly for another, but none came and Omicron could have wept with relief. That was far closer to what he’d expected at the start of this experiment. He wiped his nose with a tissue and was unsurprised to find the skin was already getting sore. His skin was prone to chafing with too much friction, which was just as inconvenient as it sounded.

Dr. Voster frowned at him. “Was that..?”

“My usual, yes,” Omicron verified with a sigh. He was numb to the embarrassment of discussing this by now.

“Okay.” Dr. Voster folded her hands in her lap and with a deep breath, marshaled herself. “Okay, okay. This.. is salvageable. I just have to create an antidote, or maybe a diluting agent, and then maybe I can administer a weaker dose before..” She glanced at her watch and hung her head in defeat. “.. you leave in less than an hour.”

Omicron gave her a half-lidded stare over his tissues. “You didn’t create an antidote?”

Dr. Voster threw her arms up and shot up from her chair to pace. “No, Omicron! No, I didn’t. It’s a cold. It’s a harmless, nose-oriented cold at that. Barely a case of the sniffles. But apparently you have the most delicate sinuses of all mankind because my dose was too strong and now you’re-”

She glanced over at Omicron to find him in a state of sneezy limbo, no longer listening as his nostrils twitched their way to a consuming finale. He stuttered a few breaths, each exhale a sound of unwitting surprise when the sneeze didn’t come. It took longer than Omicron wanted, but he finally got it.

“DZSSSH!” Another pitchy gasp, the corners of his mouth flinching upward in the barest hint of a relieved smile as he vented one down on his lap. “TSSschoo!! ahhh, tha’g you..”

Omicron wasn’t even sure who he was talking to, the tickle or his nose, but each succinct release felt wonderful and left him spent in a way that relaxed him. It seemed if he didn’t try to stop them, they would come in much more manageable waves. Hmm.. maybe that meant if he held them off, he could get another one of those punishing volleys when he needed one. It would depend on the target’s preferences.

“Omicron, are you listening?”

He glanced up to find a fretful Dr. Voster, her hair loose from her ponytail and lab coat a little askew. He sniffed. “No, sorry. What did you say?”

“I’m going to recommend we ground you,” she said. Omicron froze, uncertain if he heard right, but jumped to his feet when she snatched up her phone. “We can’t risk this compromising you.”

He tried to grab her phone from her, but she dodged. “What are you talking about? I thought that was the point.”

“The point was to give you a reliable way to sneeze,” she clarified, quickly typing something out with her thumbs. “Not make you a liabilit-HEY!”

Omicron managed to liberate her phone and held it high above to keep it out of reach as he tried to reason with her. He sniffed again when he felt his nose begin to run, and blinked against the throbbing reply of his nose-tickle. “Listen, Anita, I’ve been training for this mission for months. It’s our only chance t.. to..”

Her eyes narrowed as his fluttered. “You have to sneeze right now, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I’m telling you I’m hh!UHhh..” He sniffled again, fighting for composure. “.. I’m learning to work with it, alright?”

“If you can go thirty seconds without sneezing, I’ll believe you.”

Omicron swallowed. Thirty seconds yesterday would have been nothing, but today? His nostrils flared at even the suggestion. If he wasn’t certain viruses had no capacity for thought, let alone emotion, he would claim this tickle had a mind of its own and a chip on its shoulder. It was always simmering somewhere in the recesses of his sinuses, but the moment he committed to staving it off, it surged forward with pure intention.

Somehow, he could tell he’d be in for another seismic sneezing fit if he tried any tricks to keep it back, so he let his eyes fold shut. Rather than increments of jumping breaths, this sneeze was a smooth slide into fruition. He drew in a dreamy breath and felt his nostrils ease wide. Then-

��HETZChuu!” It was cleansing, a reset that cleared his mind. He welcomed another. “h-hHEH!h.. ohhH!hh..” 

The urge abandoned him, and of course the moment he wanted to sneeze, he couldn’t. Clearing his throat, he realized with a measure of chagrin that when he sneezed, he hadn’t done more than turn his head. Where had his manners gone? The urges were so immediate, he could scarcely think of anything else.

Dr. Voster snatched the phone from his hand. “That wasn’t even fifteen seconds! I’m calling HQ.”

“Anita!” he growled, and darted forward. The two of them ended up in a spontaneous spar. While Dr. Voster was rarely on the field, she was trained in hand-to-hand as well as he was. They exchanged a series of blocks, strikes, kicks, dodges, and by the time Omicron wrestled her into a hold on the linoleum, they were both breathless. Splayed out on her back, he huffed heavy breaths into her hair. The silken strands ruffled in the gusts.

She threw him a dirty look from the corner of her eye. “Let me go, Omicron.”

“Not until you let go of this notion that I’m incapable of fulfilling this mission, Anita,” he leveled back at her. “It’s unlike you to worry like this.”

Her glare darkened; she didn’t like his choice of words, but didn’t deny it. “I oversensitized you. It will be my fault if you collapse in an uncontrollable sneezing fit and get captured by the enemy.”

He scoffed. “Is that all? I didn’t sneeze once during our spar and, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got you in a lock on the ground. Not to mention the mission is information extraction. If I attract unwanted attention, that would be my own mistake.”

She said nothing in return, which prompted Omicron to slide off of her. Together they sat up, still sitting on the floor together. She tucked hair behind her ear, refusing to look at him. He sighed. “Anita..”

She shot him a side glance. “.. are you seriously going through with it?”

“Of course,” he replied, twitching his nose to one side. The tickle rippled, and he sniffled in response. Out of habit he reached up to rest his finger beneath. “If the target enjoys this as much as sources claim, th-h!.. then it’ll beeeeh-”

He tucked his finger more tightly to his septum, only realizing his mistake after the tickle churned restlessly against the tender, tortured edges of his sinuses. “Oh, fuck mHH-.. HIH!hh.. uhh… UH..”

Dr. Voster made a noise of exasperation and he caught the sound of tissues getting snatched from the box. As he gasped and groaned his way through another incredible buildup, a flurry of softness enveloped his squirming nose. He cupped his hand over hers as he flinched forward into their shared grip.

“iiiIHH’GGZSSCHOO!..oohhh, uhduther-..” He caught his breath in a desperate gasp, straight from the bottom of his belly. When he crunched forward, he heard a couple seams rip in his shirt. “AAHHDZZSCHOO!!”

“I guess I should said bless you,” grumbled Dr. Voster. She wiggled the tissues around his nose, which remained twitchy. He had yet to open his eyes. “Are you done?”

He shook his head.

“One more?”

He paused to consider, then nodded. And after another terrific gasp, the force of his doubling-over wrenched their hands down toward his lap. “EEHTTZZSSSCHOOO!!.. ohhh, wow..” 

Omicron nearly shivered at the pleasant, tingling aftermath. Why did they always feel so good? The bigger the better, even if they winded him. Dr. Voster left him with the tissues as he muzzily blew his nose. He kept his head down for a moment to let the dizziness ease, so he was still facing his lap when he opened his eyes.

Oh. That was new. Side effect of the virus, perhaps..? 

Omicron darted his eyes to the doctor, but she was already up on her feet and brushing off her coat. She hadn’t seen - his first and only stroke of luck today. Because if she thought his violent sneezing was grounds for calling off the mission, his sudden sneeze-induced half-chub would definitely warrant a mortifying and career-destroying advisory call to HQ. He rushed to adjust himself as she turned away, and then both of them jumped when the door opened.

“ - yes, yes, just tell them to fax it,” Agent Delta was saying, attention still focused on someone else in the hall. Omicron scrambled to his feet, standing at attention as Dr. Voster filed beside him, just as Delta turned to them both. He clapped his hands together. “Ah, there they are! Case 28947!”

That was the case number to which they were assigned, and the very case that would see Omicron leaving for the airport in the next.. his eyes flew to the clock on the wall.. twelve minutes. That’s probably why Delta was here. 

“How’s our experiment? A success?” He strolled over to Omicron, over whom he held a few inches. Omicron stood his ground, resolving not to drop his eyes when Delta jovially scanned his features. His gaze lingered on Omicron’s nose. “Looks like it was.”

“It was.” Dr. Voster and Omicron briefly locked eyes before she continued. “It’s.. functioning as intended.”

“Really?” asked Delta, impressed. Dr. Foster preened under that look, in spite of the circumstances. The senior agent looked between the two of them with a polite smile. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind me testing it as well?”

Again Omicron and Anita met eyes. This time, Omicron cleared his throat and nodded his reply. “If you wish, sir.”

Delta scratched his cheek thoughtfully, studying Omicron in silence until the shorter agent couldn’t help but sniff. He also couldn’t help the need to briefly wrinkle his nose afterward. Delta grinned.

“From how it was described, it must tickle pretty bad in there, huh?” he said, nodding to Omicron’s nose. It must be blushed pink by now, if not darker. He waited for Delta to continue, and then realized that his superior was waiting for an answer.

Much as it humiliated him to say it, he replied, “It does, sir.”

“Mmm,” Delta hummed thoughtfully, and to the man’s credit he sounded a little sympathetic. “It must feel like.. hm, how did your poetic literature put it, Doctor? What was it?.. Liiike..”

Dr. Voster, who was busy putting her hair back up into its customary ponytail, darted an apologetic glance toward Omicron. Well, it wasn’t her fault. Omicron knew what literature Delta referenced and it was only part of protocol for her to write something thorough for their records.

“Like feathers.”

“That’s right, like feathers,” Delta continued, shifting on his feet in front of Omicron. His eyes never left his subordinate’s face. “Constantly and tirelessly petting the inside of one’s nose.”

The words seemed hypnotic to Omicron because he could feel it. He could feel those feathers, stroking so gently and repeatedly against the far depths of his sinuses. Somewhere deep, somewhere too far to scratch. They were careful with the fragile nerves there, but dauntless in their purpose. To make him sneeze. And sneeze.. And sneeze…

Omicron’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath deepening as his nostrils flared softly to the siren call of those thoughts. His hands remained firmly clasped behind him.

Delta continued as if he didn’t notice. “Yes. An ever-present irritation in the most sensitive depths, coaxed to greater and greater strength by your breath. Isn’t that ironic? That you yourself are the catalyst to this growing fire inside you, cursed to fan the flames even in sleep.”

Did it start while I was asleep last night? Omicron wondered. Because when he woke, it was to an itchy nose. So itchy in fact he snorted, sniffed, and rubbed it with such single-mindedness he nearly forgot he was due to Dr. Voster’s lab today. He breathed now, a slow and reverent inhale that squeaked around his blocked sinuses and added speed to the stroking sensation of those silken feathers.

His lips parted, his chest jumping with a sudden breath. He sighed it out, the ghost of a moan carried on his exhale.

“And once it starts, it is nigh impossible to stop. That tickle won’t let you. No matter how badly you might want a reprieve, those feathers are mindless. You can’t reason with them. They’ll just keep at their work, teasing and teasing that aching flesh until..”

The tickle buoyed him through a catching gasp. Omicron sighed again, his voice carrying, wanting. Another cresting gasp, the wave of something reachable, and then he fell short again. His nostrils pulsed plaintively, begging what dwelled inside to give him relief. But Omicron didn’t mind this limbo, this torture. He knew what came after would be well worth the wait.

“.. agitating.. working you over.. beckoning you with a relentless tickle.. until you can take it no longer.”

His chest swelled, and what he thought might be another forsaken gasp turned into the exclamation of climax. “HAH-.. BBZSSSSCHHUUHH!”

The first one came, because of course there would be more, and he snatched an arm around his middle when there was a strong, delicious undulation of pleasure deep in his gut. He groaned, his voice deep and gravelly and unfamiliar to his ears.

“Whoa!” came Delta’s exclamation. He sounded shocked. “That sure was something. Omicron, bless-”

“HEH-.. BBZSSSHHOO!.. nnnnghh.” 

These were smooth as butter - one big, long, scooping breath and then a knee-shaking release. He sniffled thickly, wetly, with his eyes shut in concentration. Omicron wanted another, and this time the tickle delivered. Those invisible feathers rustled like wheat in a windstorm, and he caught himself grinning as he gasped another huge breath. 

“HHHH!.. EHDZZSSSHUUE!!”

He swayed forward as another cramp of ecstasy swirled in his gut, and Omicron felt a strong hand brace his shoulder to keep him from tipping over.

“Is he okay?” was one faint voice.

“Yes, just-” came another.

Omicron sneezed.

“HIIH!.. IIHTDZZSSSHHHTT!! .. fuck.”

That one was particularly wet, fired haphazardly at the floor like the rest. It also contracted in a burst of stars behind his groin so intense that Omicron became instantly and fearfully aware that he would actually come in his pants if he kept this up. And holy shit he didn’t want that to happen. Not here. Not now. 

He jerked his free hand out, holding it expectantly toward the voices. With tremendous effort, he tried to be understood. “Tiih.. Tiizzusss.. HUH-”

“One second, one second!!” he heard Anita’s tempering assurances over the rush of blood in his ears. 

And the rush of ticklish sensation through his nose. He couldn’t get the visual of feathers out of his head. Delta, damn him. All Omicron could see behind the dark of his wet eyelids was a field of pristine, white, downy feathers positioned diabolically against every inch of his nasal walls. The tips of them wavered each time he hitched a stuttery inhale, and huffed a helpless exhale. They were devoid of life beyond that which he gave them, breathing intent into them as they swayed against swollen, irritated flesh. He could picture his nasal membranes flinching helplessly against the onslaught, crying out to him for relief. And he would give it-

“hH-.. uHH’TZZZSSSHHOOOO!!”

The feathers fluttered wildly and his nose calmed with a prickling balm, sated. Until he sniffled against the slogging block of congestion in his nose and what little air there was eeked through and-.. the feathers trembled, dragging their soft tips gingerly against his quivering flesh, an endless torment, so subtle yet compounding in its simplicity because he could feel the echoes of that tantalizing sensation all through his nose and as he snuffled against the feeling, the feathers trembled again as if in eagerness, excitement, their tendrils tracing long worn paths on fraught nerves as the aching pressure built and built in his nose, deep inside, and oh-.. ohh-

“hHHHHH-”

“Oh no you don’t.” 

The sudden presence of a hand over his nose surprised him, frightened the sneeze away, and Omicron felt an irrational pang of frustration when his gasp escaped from him with a gutteral hhuhh unrelieved. He realized in retrospect that the voice was Dr. Voster, and the hand belonged to her too. He also realized, in a wash of cold sweat, that he was achingly hard where his prick was tucked into his belt.

“Blow your nose, Omicron.”

He struggled to comply. A hitching breath got out of his control, only emboldening the tickle, and again he thought of the feathers. They were everywhere, impossible to blow out, and they’d just keep… keep-

“RRZZSSSSCHH’HOO!”

It tore out of him with a passion, and the pleasure washed over him so fiercely he would have gone to his knees had Delta not stepped in to catch him. Omicron panicked, bursting into motion to put distance between himself and the others. They let him go, only for him to stumble backwards onto his ass. The impact shook an impending sneeze out the queue, and Omicron had a moment to collect his bearings.

He quickly got to his hands and knees, trying to keep his crotch pointed to the floor. He was still painfully hard, but thankfully he hadn’t managed to sneeze himself into orgasm. Now that he had his wits, he realized he still had the wad of tissues in his hand. He brought them to his face and blew as hard as he could, concentrating only on the act of getting something out rather than thinking too hard about what was happening inside.

Adrenaline and humiliation were quick and quiet boner killers; any residual arousal swirling in his thoughts extinguished as he assessed his situation. He was somewhat sweaty, stained with a few of his own sneezes, and his damn nose still tickled. Omicron threw caution to the wind and rubbed it with fast, punishing pressure against his septum, as if to admonish it. Rather than chance a sniffle, he breathed only through his mouth as he climbed to his feet.

Both Dr. Voster and Agent Delta regarded him warily. Omicron straightened his vest, his jacket, and smoothed back his hair where it had fallen into his eyes. 

“Pardod be,” he rasped, still breathless. He coughed into his fist to clear his throat.

Delta’s features eased into genuine concern. The man’s flippant nature notwithstanding, he did care about his people. “Agent, are you alright?”

“Of course,” insisted Omicron. He cleared his throat again. “Just fine. Why?”

“Well, that just..” Delta looked over to Dr. Voster, who was refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “.. it seemed very intense, don’t you think? Doctor?”

The doctor startled at her name, then reached to adjust her glasses. She looked now at Omicron, her expression as hard and firm as her voice. “Yes, I agree. And I would recommend..”

Here, Omicron bit his tongue. If Anita really did want to rat him out, he’d only dig his own grave if he tried to deflect. But then her eyes softened.

“.. that Agent Omicron desist from triggering the suggestion impulse until this initial sensitivity wears off.”

Tension left his shoulders. He closed his eyes briefly in relief.

Delta rubbed the back of his neck, contrite. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was an issue. You should have told me!”

“I wasn’t aware it was a pattern until you tried it, sir,” said Dr. Voster. She crossed her arms and nodded toward Omicron. “And with all due respect, sir, you should really apologize to Agent O.”

Delta turned to him with dewy puppy-dog eyes and Omicron wanted to evaporate out of embarrassment. He didn’t do well with anything sentimental and at times his superior was pure sentimentality. “Forgive me, Omicron. I hope I didn’t cause you any distress. I’m sure that wasn’t comfortable.”

On the contrary, thought Omicron, but admitting anything even close to the truth made his tongue wither. His cheeks burned, and to add further indignity, he sniffled. The brief, tickling swell prompted him to thumb the end of his nose to encourage good behavior. 

“Not at all, sir. Please don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Delta clapped him companionably on the shoulder, and when he turned toward Dr. Voster, Omicron leaned around him to throw a scathing look her way. She only smiled. That prompted apology was likely just her getting some revenge. To be frank, the new complication of sneeze-induced arousal would absolutely complicate the mission, but Omicron begged to be given a case like this for months. More than a year, even. He’d take the risk rather than give this up.

Besides, it wasn’t his fault his nose couldn’t calm down. He didn’t conduct a half-baked intake interview and design an overpowered tickle virus, so why should he be the one to suffer the consequences? Beyond those he was already suffering, he supposed.

Once again, thinking too much about it summoned the tickle forth. Omicron refused to get stuck in another self-perpetuated sneeze-cycle, so he focused only on the wall as the urge lapped at the edges of his sinuses. Oh, the ones that made him wait were the worst.

“.. to it that we grab your luggage on the way to the jet,” Delta was saying. He still had his hand on Omicron’s shoulder and squeezed when he got no response. “You already packed right?”

Omicron took a breath to reply, but it hitched in his throat. Then rushed out with a soft uhh that he couldn’t suppress. Gone were the days when he could quietly build up to a sneeze; it seemed this virus wanted everybody to know as soon as his nose started to tickle. He fought to keep his eyes open, and his ears from flushing red.

“.. yeh..hssirr..”

Delta’s smile tilted back into concerned territory, and he rubbed Omicron’s shoulder. “Looking a little sneezy, Agent. Try not to knock yourself down this time.”

Omicron huffed a laugh that trembled into a gasping inhale, a fitful exhale, an even more urgent inhale-.. “-uUHH!” and then left him on a frustrated sigh. He rubbed his face with both hands. “Fuck,” he mumbled. Then his head shot up in alarm. “Oh-.. ah, sir-...”

Agent Delta only laughed, booming and cheerful as he slid his arm further across Omicron’s shoulders to give him a jostling side-hug. “Don’t worry, Agent. These are extenuating circumstances, I’ll let that it slide.”

Omicron nodded as he was jerked around by Delta’s strength, reaching up to push his hair back when it fell out of style again. His nose was still tingling, unrelieved, and he scrunched it with exasperation. Sneeze or don’t sneeze, won’t you? 

“Off we go!” crowed Delta, escorting Omicron toward the door while still under his arm. He looked back to Dr. Voster. “I’ll be with him on the flight, so we’ll let you know if there are any case developments.”

He tightened his hold when he said this, and Omicron fought down a flash of annoyance that Delta probably meant any developments with Agent Omicron’s nose. Speaking of which… 

Omicron let his eyes roll shut as Delta led him into the hall, their footsteps echoing down the corridor. He was saying something, probably about the jet, but Omicron let the words wash over him just as he let the tickle wash through his nose. Wary of what might happen, he strayed away from thinking too much about feathers. Instead, he thought of dust motes. A dandelion seed. Something small and irritating and hopelessly stuck somewhere deep inside him. Whatever it was, this thing wanted to escape. It squirmed and twisted, fluttered its wings or flicked its tail. The throbbing urgency of Omicron’s tender pink membranes wouldn’t deter it, neither would the gradual unsteadiness of his breath. He exhaled, yearning.

“..uh-..”

The invader redoubled its efforts, writhing against his most sensitive places. He couldn’t-.. he..

“.. huhh-..”

If only he could reason with it, but on a baser level, Omicron didn’t want to. He wanted it to flap and struggle, tickle and itch, uncontrollable and impossible to satiate. Fan the flames of this urge so feverish that he couldn’t do anything but-

“HAH-!”

Omicron found himself smiling again, delirious as he breathed into this unstoppable force. He was completely helpless to its thrall. This thing in him, nuzzling and ruffling and bothering his nose so fervently, dotingly, sweeping him up with its caress. He.. oh-.. oh-!

“S’combi’g-” He gasped out, if only just to himself. The breathy word preceded an absolutely euphoric sneeze. “WRIZZSSSSHUUU’uoohhhh…”

Omicron stayed as he was, one hand cupped to his nose and the other bracing his middle. Another dagger of pleasure had stabbed him through, but it was fast to dissipate as he sniffled into his palm. The way his nose tingled signaled a temporary relief. Omicron couldn’t decide if he was disappointed by this or not.

“Goodness, bless you!” Omicron jumped. Delta stood beside him, both hands in his pockets now, looking amused. Omicron had forgotten he was there. “That was a big one! Sounds like you worked your way up to it.”

Why was Omicron cursed with the chattiest superior Agent in the force? He snuffled again behind his hand, by habit searching his pockets for a handkerchief or a restaurant napkin, anything. He paused when Delta extended a travel pack of tissues. 

“Thought you might need these, so I brought a few packs along.”

“.. Tha’g you.” 

Omicron took it with grace, turning around so he could use both hands. He blew his nose yet again, dismayed with the sheer amount of moisture he was capable of producing. At this rate he’d need to stay hydrated. Once he finished up, he turned back to Delta to find him extending a small bottle of hand sanitizer. He eyed the other man.

“You can’t actually catch this, sir.”

“I know, Agent, but the public won’t know that,” he said, as carefree as ever. “And even if you’re not actually sick, better to keep your hands clean, mm? And maybe try the vampire trick too.” Here he demonstrated by lifting his elbow and tucking his nose in. 

Omicron burned with the embarrassment of having his lackadaisical sneezing addressed in such an obvious way. Normally he was very thorough with his hygiene practices. He sneezed into his elbow or better, a handkerchief if he had one. He washed his hands frequently and properly. Something about this tickle just emptied his head of all sense when it came over him. It was a miracle he’d managed to even cup a hand to his mouth just now. He didn’t remember doing that.

So he could only nod, his cheeks burning, as he took the bottle and copiously applied. The stringent scent bloomed in the air. Delta could probably tell he was upset because he gave the shorter agent a lighthearted slap on the back. “You’re usually very conscientious. Just a gentle reminder, agent.”

Omicron nodded again, this time with a yip of surprise as his eyes slammed closed. Suddenly his nose was frenzied, filled to the brim with that strong, alcoholic smell. It burned, so sharp it brought tears to his eyes as he rushed his elbow to his face. Unlike the other sneezes of this morning, this itch wasn’t indulgent. It was almost brutal. 

“Chssh-! Tschh!” Even without muffling into his jacket, they would have been small. Smaller than his normal sneezes, even. They were fittish, barely letting him up for air. “Itschh! HHtschh!.. uh-.. TSSH’hee!!.. fucking hell..”

It only lasted seconds, over as suddenly as it began, and Omicron picked his head up blearily. He sniffled, coughing again at the remaining scent on his hands as he fished out another tissue and nursed his nose. Stupid thing was so needy now, he couldn’t even use hand sanitizer without a complaint. Belatedly he realized he’d cursed in front of his superior again.

When he looked at Delta, the man was regarding him thoughtfully. Not his usual fond musing sort of look either. The kind of discerning expression that awarded him the rank he currently held. Omicron’s blinked at him, wide eyed over the edge of his tissues.

“S-Sorry for sweari’g, sir..”

Delta stirred from wherever he’d been, and dropped into a polite smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Omicron, I honestly don’t mind. But, I’ll ask this again: are you alright?”

Omicron blinked at him again, owlish. “Me, sir?”

Delta chuffed an airy chuckle. “Yes, agent, you. You’re sure this..” He warred over his words, trying to pick the best ones. “I know you’ve been waiting a long time for this opportunity, but are you sure? About this?”

Omicron bristled, and he was certain Delta could tell. He finished up with his nose, balling up the tissue and foregoing hand sanitizer this time. “Respectfully, why wouldn’t I be sure, sir?”

“This science isn’t exact,” Delta told him. His voice was lower now, the proper tone of a superior officer. “Dr. Voster is a genius, but this is the first time we’ve tried something like this. There’s bound to be a margin of error. So I’m asking you again, Agent Omicron..” Here he fixed his subordinate with a firm stare. “.. are you sure about doing this right now, as you are, in this state?”

Omicron didn’t have to think about it. He merely drew himself up to a force-standard posture and looked Delta in the eyes without flinching. “Yes, sir. Very sure.”

Delta held his stare, but when Omicron didn’t buckle, he sagged where he stood. With a long sigh, he once again patted Omicron’s shoulder. “Alright, agent. But if you change your mind or if you become compromised, you must be honest and tell me immediately. Am I understood?”

Omicron just barely managed to resist twitching his nose; he could feel it wanting attention, but didn’t want to give Delta any reason to doubt him. “Of course, sir.”

Delta gave him a jaunty thumbs up, back to his usual lofty cheer. “Grand! I’ll take you at your word.” He turned away, beginning to stride down the corridor with expectation Omicron would follow. “Now, we ought to get a move on. They’ve got the jet idling and you know how they are about the fuel budget..”

Agent Delta carried on, blind to his subordinate keeping step behind him. Omicron absently, then more purposefully, rubbed his nose. The skin was starting to sting, no doubt ready to peel by tomorrow like sunburn. The tickle stretched languidly, lazily working Omicron up to another toe-curling sneeze. The hedonist in him wanted to welcome it.

However, he had nearly twelve hours on a jet to contend with, surrounded by other personnel. And he was certain now after that little conversation with Delta that the man would be watching Omicron carefully from here on out. If he noticed anything suspicious, he’d ground the mission and take Omicron off the case without remorse. He couldn’t let it happen, not after how hard he’d fought for this.

His nostrils flared against his finger, a premature warning to what was brewing. But Omicron knew, and he was prepared for the impending battle. It wouldn’t be easy, but he fully intended to negotiate with his nose and keep sneezing to nil on the flight. Almost nil, if he couldn’t hold out. Again his nostrils flared, as if playfully chiding him. You’re not in control, his nose seemed to say. I am.

Well, thought Omicron as he stepped out of the jet bay and into the sunshine. The jet sat waiting on the tarmac, a flurry of activity around it. We’ll just see about that.

/tbc??

I’m not sure if I’ll continue it, but I hope you had fun reading!! Part 2 is in the works!

PART 2 IS HERE!

[jayhyunglover]

Wine Pon You

Pairing: Sylus x fem! reader

Warnings :MDNI unprotected sex, creampie, fingering , oral sex (f and m receiving). Dirty talking , alcohol consumption .Let me know if I missed anything

Synopsis : when your friends dragged you in a club to relax this certainly wasn't the type of relaxation you had in mind

Now playing : Die for me by Chase Atlantic

The scent of the alcohol wafted through your nostrils mixed with something so intoxicating , so sweet,  so him.

How did you get into this situation? You don't even remember.

Tara and Neilie dragging you into a club as a pathetic excuse to have fun  and relieve some stress but as you sat down here at the bar  gulping down mojitos after mojitos , you were far from relaxed.

Scanning the crowd of sweaty and pressed bodies with a disinterested gaze, that's when your eyes fell on him, poised on a couch on the VIP section looking as utterly bored as you were,  crimson eyes  roaming over the crowd below.

His eyes found yours and you swear your heart stopped beating. Yet you didn't look away , your eyes locking with his as you sipped on another cocktail.

His gaze traced over you like a caress that sent shivers down your spine , one snowy eyebrow cocking up as if daring you to look away  and you were never one to back  down from a challenge.

Your little staring contest lasted for a while but you were a little impatient thing , body growing hotter under his hypnotizing gaze.

Sylus was doing no better,  sitting there in this boring club,  he was counting the minutes down to leave until his eyes fell on you , sitting there looking as utterly bored as he was. That was until she turned around to gaze at him , losing himself in your hypnotizing irises , so defiant in the way you were challenging him with your stare.

Sylus's eyebrows furrowed when you stood up to head over where he was sitting

Daring are we ? He thought the corners of his lips curling up in a small smirk.

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fact you were ovulating. Hell you didn't even know when your feet started to guide towards the VIP section just that  you needed to get here and take a closer at him at least.

Your mind and body  were ready for the rejection and get escorted out by the guards but to you  your surprise they let you in .

Stepping inside was like stepping in another world , the black and red tones adding to the sultry atmosphere but you didn't give a damn about that. You didn't came here to admire the decorations but the man sitting on the couch with a glass of whiskey in hands , legs spread  while his eyes roamed over your form taking every inch of  you in greedily.

Sylus was right , you were definitely prettier up close. Those rosy lips , those eyes roving over him like he was a piece of meat . Yet he wasn't mad or offended Quite the opposite he found himself intrigued.

"To be honest I didn't expect you to win our little staring contest" you approached him trying  your best to stay in character and you mentally applauded yourself for not stuttering

He cocked his head slightly to the side before a small smirk pulled on the corner his delicious mouth

"What can I say ?" He shrugged nonchalantly twirling the glass of whiskey in his hand "I am full of his surprise"

His voice was a low sultry purr that sent tremors all the way down your slutty cunt.

Damn this was bad..

"Beside.." he took another sip of his drink, crimson gaze flickering over you once more "you're not as sneaky as you think , you were just as captivated as I was"

Now it was your turn to smirk inching closer to where he was manspreding on the couch

"You think?" You raised an eyebrow at him standing between his man spread legs

"No." He murmured his voice a low husky rumble "I know"

"So confident I see" you chuckled leaning down to rest a knee on the small place between his legs , one hand resting on the couch beside his head your own tilting slightly to the side to look at him , taking in his sharp features.

His face was a real piece of art,  one you'd very much like to frame with your legs

"So may I know your name staring partner?"

And Gosh Sylus almost missed your question with the way you were so close to him , your scent coating his mind with the sweetest intoxication,  your lashes fluttering up at him in a way that almost made him forget his own name

"Sylus" he grunted out body stiff with tension.

"Sylus" you repeated the name rolling off your tongue like a caress and Sylus swear he was alredy addicted to the way you say it.

"And might I  know yours?" He tilted his head as well , bloody gaze boring into yours

Feeling more daring you brought your face closer to him breath teasing his ear as you whisper

"Call me Y/n"

"Y/n" he reapeted eyes tracing down the column of your throat sweeping over the sliver skin bared by the low neckline of your dress

Fuck you were such a tempting vision.

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman" he mused aloud making you laugh softly

"Flattery will get you nowhere Sylus" you shook your  head and Gosh Sylus wanted to bottle up this melodic sound to listen to it over and over.

"It's not flattery I am just stating the truth sweetie"

And that nickname made your knees weaken , the last shred of sanity or self respect leaving your body as you stood up and step away from him. Yet Sylus found himself missing your proximity , missing the warmth of your body , your sweet intoxicating perfume that drove him wild with Desire

"So Sylus" you start body moving before your mind can process anything "do you enjoy dancing?"

"Dancing?" He raised an eyebrow at her before taking another sip of his drink "I am just passable"

Oh he wished he could tell you how he wanted you to dance for him , on him but no he held back not wanting to scare you away .

Your eyebrow furrowed sensing he misinterpreted your point

"I was talking as in Dancing for you" you clarified making him choke on his drink the liquid burning down his throat.

"You mean as in right here right now?" He asked tone laced with a mixture of disbelief , shock and arousal

"You don't want to ?" You asked , a hint of uncertainty passing through your gaze. Teeth worrying the plush of your bottom lip

Maybe you were being too forward.

"No , I do" Sylus quickly said internally wincing at how desperate he probably sounded but you just offered him a small smile one that he knows would be etched into his mind for a while before you made your  way towards him hips swaying at the sound of the music.

The sight nearly had him biting back a groan his body taunt like a bowstring, mind swirling with thoughts each more filthier than the last.

And when you settled on his lap back facing him , he nearly let his hold on his drink slip , a small groan that went straight to your cunt leaving his parted lips.

He could feel every dip and  curve through the flimsy material of your dress , every slow grind having his sanity  melting away like a popsicle on a summer day .

His hand gripped the back of the couch holding onto it for dear life , grounding himself to not flip you over and fuck you right her on the expensive leather.

Patience

You abruptly stood up from his lap to face him , cheeks now crazed red , parted lips red from biting them too much.

You were so fucking aroused , heat throbbing at any mere friction that you had to stand up to stop yourself from humping him like a bitch in heat.

Sylus felt the loss of your warmth like a physical blow to his chest  and he had to  fight back the urge to pull you back on his lap.

He watched with half lided eyes as you traced a line down his neck to his open collar legs resting either side of his muscled thighs to straddle him properly,  to dance for him properly.

Your head fell back in ecstasy as your arms wrapped around his shoulder when the song reached your favorite part eyes tightly shut as you grind harder against him , hips moving in a circular motion that made Sylus keen. His mind shutting off , the last remnants of his sanity dancing away replaced by the unbashabed need he felt for you.

Unable to resist the temptation anymore, He leaned in to nose down your pulse inhaling your sweet scent and just one whiff made him literally groan. The sound pulling you from your drunken Haze.

"What are you doing?"  You asked breathlessly,  hips still moving shamelessly against his.

Sylus's breath came out in feverish pants lips pressing  small kisses against your neck that made your skin tingles , hips bucking up against his.

Sylus's hands snaked down to pin your hips down, to stop you  before he did something unforgivable.

"Trying to keep myself from flipping you over and have you right here" he murmured against your neck,  voice gruff as he spoke

the words went straight to the throbbing pulse between your legs a small humorless laugh escaping your parted lips , your lust filled mind far too gone.

"Then I guess.." you pressed yourself hard against the obvious bulge in his pants "I am not trying hard enough"

Oh you little minx.

He let out a small moan,  teeth nipping at your neck to muffle it

"No you're doing the exact opposite, you little minx" he murmured in the crook of you neck , nipping and sucking at the sensitive flesh , the touch making your knees weaken

"If you keep this up" he rasped out "I wont be able to hold back"

"Who asked you to hold back?" You leaned down to whisper in his ear before nipping at his earlobe "I sure didn't"

Oh that was his last straw.

In the blink of the eyes you found yourself splayed out beneath him dress hiking up your thighs with his form looming above you.

"If you want me to stop holding back then" his features twisted into such a feral grin that made your cunt twitch "I'll show you , little temptress" he nipped at your  neck hand rubbing the soft skin of your thigh. Lips peppering kiss down your  neck to your  collarbone and it's only when he reached the low neckline of your dress you starting to feel self conscious of your current location.

You were still in the VIP section,  no matter how horny you were you couldn't let him have you here . What if someone walked on you?

As if sensing your inner turmoil Sylus stopped his ministrations , crimson eyes flickering up to search for your gaze.

"You dont want anyone to see us like this?" He grunted mouth still leaving feverish kisses against your skin

"No" you murmured softly. Even if you acted so boldly with him you wouldn't be very pleased to have someone walking on you.

And Even if it killed him to part with you , Sylus didn't really like the prospect of someone seeing you like this all flushed and panting because of him.

Letting out a soft grunt he reluctantly parted away from you but not for long , because soon he was hoisting you up on his shoulder earning a small yelp from you that made him smile

So cute.

Before you knew it you were out of the club . Sylus crossing the path to outside in just a few strides.

Your body shivered when he sets you down on your feet , the cold air biting on your skin before Sylus's wrapped his jacket around you.

"Wouldn't want you to get cold on me now Sweetie?" He offered a charming smirk that made you just wanna kiss him right here.

Straddling his bike you followed closely behind.

"Hold on tight now, kitten"

And he didn't need to tell you twice bevause you were holding onto him for dear life.

When you arrived at his penthouse,  you didn't even had the time to admire the beauty of it because he was already dragging you towards his bedroom, too impatient, mind too clouded with lust , body taunt like a bowstring , muscles strained , as if he'd die if he didn't have you right here.

Lips devouring yours , drinking in them like he was a dying man in a desert arm snaked around your waist to hold you close against him . And his lips tasted so addictively sweet. A mixture of wine and whiskey that had heat pooling low in your stomach.

As soon you reached his bedroom he pinned you against the closed door , lips trailing open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat

"You're so impatient" you chuckled against his lips hands tangling in his cloudy locks "I like it"

"You have no idea how impatient I can be" he murmured before claiming your lips in another bruising kiss , all teeth and tongue

"And tonight kitten" he nipped down at the side your neck "I am gonna have you screaming  for me" lips sucking at the sensitive skin below your ear in a way that had your legs trembling

"Is that ahh a  promise?" You let out between small gasps and moans .

He hummed in response lips too busy continuing their slow assault on your sense , now sucking and nipping at the plush of your breasts bared by the low neckline of your dress.

"And Sweetheart I always keep my promises" he whispered before dropping to his knees,  hands literally tearing your dress apart

Aww this one was your favorite

"Don't worry sweetie, I'll buy one hundred dresses , the whole fucking store even" he looked up at you  pupils blown out with lust , cheeks flushed a delicate pink and the sight of him on his knees looking so wrecked already nearly have you coming undone.

Big hands spreading your legs open hooking one of your legs on his shoulder to trail small kisses on the skin of your inner thigh teasingly close to your underwear but never quite reaching it.

Your hand found his snowy locks , caressing the soft strands in a pathetic attempt to coax him out

"Sylus" your voice was a soft desperate plea that went straight to his aching cock.

"Yes Sweetie" he grunted  , breath coming in short condensed puffs that fanned against your skin.

"Tell me what you want?" He nipped at the edge of your underwear in a way that just heightened your arousal

"You know what I want" you clutched at his hair , frustration lacing your tone. But he just chuckled,  the vibrations of his laugh going straight to your twitching cunt.

"No I don't" he whispered looking up at you , the frenzied look on his eyes having you throw your head back against the door and moan

"why don't you speak up for me , huh sweetie?"  He continued to nip at the flimsy material of your panties , tongue tracing over the lace and just one taste of your sweet beading juices had his mouth watering tongue licking greedily over the lace again and again as if he couldn't get enough.

And you could nothing else but keen, mouth leaving such sultry moans Sylus knew he'd never forget and he will make sure you never forget about this night as well , etching the memory into your very soul.

"Sylus please"  your words were nothing short than a sinful plea that had him seeing stars .

"Yeah sweetheart?" fucked out little grunts leaving his rosy lips who refused to part from your sweet addictive cunt not even for a second. "What is it? tell me, you know I'd give you anything" and he would truly if it can get him to stay  here buried in the heaven between your plush thighs.

"Eat me out properly please" rosy lips jutting out in a soft pout that made his pants constricts "need to feel your tongue nghh please"

And how could he ever deny you when you asked so sweetly?

"Well" he rasped out , teeth catching the edge of your underwear to trail it down,  down , down your legs "since you asked so nicely , how could I refuse?"

His feral smirk was the last thing you saw before he dove nose deep in your slutty cunt , tongue licking a long strip down from the base to your throbbing clit.

Yoyr head fell back against the door,  eyes fluttering closed while a string of curses and moans left your parted lips , body reduced to a babbled mess. And you sure if it wasn't for the iron grip he had on your hips you would have already collapsed on the floor.

"You taste so sweet kitten" he murmured between teasing licks,  the vibrations sending shivers all the way down to where he was making out sloppily with your drooling cunt.

"Can you hear her?" Another french peck "she's so talkative,  such a talkative kitten" he nipped softly at your clit , the action making your arch into his slutty mouth,  coating the lower half of his face in your sweet beading juice.

"Come on now" he quickened his pace middle finger now probing at your entrance while his lips latched on the poor swollen nub.

"Sylus I am gon-"  your words got cut off by another loud moan when you felt him add his ring finger , moving them at an unforgiving pace while his lips and tongue continued their abuse on your clit

"Yeah that's right Sweetheart, come on my face" he whispered between feverish kisses,  teeth nibbling on your inner thighs the plush of your pussy lips , everywhere he could reach.

And who were you to deny him?

You don't even realize it at first when you're cumming, hot white splashes of pleasure that made your vision tips white crashing over you , stars behind your eyes as you rode it out on his gorgeous face,  smearing your juices everywhere and he let you. Moaning happily between your thighs , crimson eyes taking in the sight greedily,  etching it into his mind .

Sylus continued to pepper small kisses down your thighs,  soothing them as you came down from your high chest heaving up and down breath ragged from the intensity of it

"That was WOW" you exclaimed making him let out an hoarse chuckle

"That good sweetie?" he gave your clit one last lingering kiss before pulling away.

"Are you kidding me?" Your eyes widened in disbelief hand cupping his face to make him look up at you "it was incredible,  your mouth GOSH feel heavenly" you ran your fingers over his slick glossed bottom lip

"Heavenly huh? You're the one who tastes heavenly sweetheart" he murmured against your hand before taking your finger in his mouth to suck it. the sight made you let out a small moan  before Yanking him by his collar to crash your lips against his , tasting yourself on his tongue and it was so sinful So depraved making your thighs rub together to temp down the fire that was beginning to burn once again.

"Kitten" he panted into your open mouth when your hand snaked down to palm at his obvious bulge

He was rock hard his need for you so painfully obvious but he still wanted to take his time with you , worship you like the Goddess you were but it seemed like you had other plans. 

You bit down on his bottom lip before starting to trail down kisses on his neck leaving blossoming purples mark on his skin , while your hands fumbled with his trousers , too impatient

"Eager are we?" He chuckled helping you take off his pants

"As if you're any better" you scoffed making him smile.

"Shit" you groaned , hand wrapping around his cock through his boxers "why is it so heavy?" You voiced out genuinely taken aback

And Sylus felt the tip of his ear heat up. Biting back a groan at your touch

"You really don't know" he looked down at you taking in your dishelved hair and smeared lipstick

"Its heavy because I want you so badly"

Those words made your eyes widen further

"I made you like this?" You spoke in a small voice hand still moving at a slow pace.

He grunted in response and before you knew it you found yourself sinking on your knees in front of him.

"Then I guess"

And Lord forgive him , Sylus knew this sight will be the start of every shower he will be taking on the next few weeks

"I should take responsibility for it" you murmured before trailing his boxers down letting his length spring free slapping against his lower abdomen .

It was so pretty , long , girthy inches that made your mouth water with veins trailing down the side and a mushroom tip flushed  your favorite shade of pink.

"So pretty" you cooed tongue lolling out to trace a vein on the underside and the touch makes Sylus throw his head back and moan,  a low feral growl deep from his throat.

She's going to be the death of him

"What a beautiful death that would be?" You chuckled leaving soft pecks all over the length of his cock

Shit did he say that out loud ?

"A beautiful death by the hands of a beautiful woman" he chuckled voice roughened by a mix of Desire and lust , hands tugging at your hair while you made out sloppily with his aching cock , pressing french kiss after French kiss against his reddened tip.

It was so filthy.

"Sweetie" he heavened out, breath growing ragged , sanity dancing away leaving a feral beast that was on the verge of pouncing on you.

You looked up, eyes blearimg lazily at him, lips stretched around his girthy length in such a fucked out smile.

"You taste so good Sy" you murmured cockdrunkenly already high on his taste his scent , the way he moan out your name like a prayer.

"Shit you're so good at this" his grip tightened on your hair, your head bobbing faster to bring him to his peak , hand scratching down the trail of white hair at his lower abdomen.

"Kitten I am going to-" his words got cut off when he felt one of your hands massaging his heavy balls

"Come for me Sylus" you pressed another French kiss to his aching cock looking up sultrily at him "make a mess on my face" another french kiss , sloppier , messier and he was cumming so hard he thought he was seeing stars for a second,  painting your face in such a sinful white. It was so depraved,  so lewd yet you loved every single second of it.

You parted from him with a lewd pop , tongue darting out to lick the remnants of cum staining his thighs,  the touch sending tingles down his spine.

"God you're going to kill me at this rate sweetheart" he pulled you up to crash his lips against yours,  tasting himself on your tongue , the salty taste making his head spin.

He picked you up effortlessly legs wrapping his wait without breaking the kiss

He laid you gently on the bed as if afraid you'd break not having a single idea that if he did break you you'd Thank him and come back for another round.

"You're so beautiful" he whispered trailing kisses down your exposed shoulders , collarbone , hands caressing you like you were  a piece of art.

"Sylus" you whimpered when you felt his hips pressing sensually against yours.

You needed him inside right fucking now

"Patience kitten" he murmured,  voice a low heated whisper , hands cupping your breast to roll deftly your peppled nipples

"We have all night"

Don't get him wrong,  he wanted you just as badly you needed me but he also wanted to take his time to explore you slowly,  to keep drawing each gasps and moans from your kiss bitten lips.

But you weren't having it , hands fumbling with his shirt to get it off of him as soon as possible.

"And here I thought I was the impatient one" a soft laugh rumbled out his throat before helping you discard his shirt somewhere leaving his sculpted chest on display for your eyes to admire

"You're such a work of art" you breathed out loud , hands trailing down his chest caressing his pecks,  his broad shoulders down his abs and his twitching  cock that was begging for your attention again.

Sylus buried his head on your chest to muffle his sounds , sucking and biting on your hardened buds to distract you (and himself )

"You're such a little tease" he grunted out against your skin tongue flicking against your nipple while his fingers were rolling deftly against the other , pinching and twisting it at his will.

"Yet you love it" you countered hand wrapping around his cock once more to pump him slowly.

Damn right he did

He continued his slow assault on your chest , the heat of his mouth so distracting it made your pace falter.

"Sylus please" you bucked your hips in the air cubt clenching around nothing.

"Please what sweetie?" he let go of your nipple with a lewd pop "tell me what you want"

"Just fuck me" you whimpered out , mind too scrambled to process your words just that you knew you'd die if he didn't fuck you now.

Yet he was still reluctant,  toying with your sanity.

"Are you sure sweetheart?" He whispered against your skin eyes searching for yours "I dont want to hurt you" another small peck between the valley of your breasts

Groaning in frustration you brought his hand to the literally pool between your legs

"Is this enough to convince you?"

Sylus let out a sharp exhale at the wetness between your thighs,  fingers slipping between your folds to pinch your clit earning a small yelp from you

"So wet already" he groaned  before positioning himself at your entrance,  his tip sliding up and down between your folds coating himself in your essence.

"I am gonna fuck you so hard" he grunted the fat divot at his tip catching just right against your throbbing clit "until all you'll be able to do is scream my name"

"nnggh" you threw your head back when you felt his tip pushing in stretching your walls sinfully around his girth

"You're so big" you whimpered mindlessly already so cockdrunk

"Relax" just  pushing in small gyrations to fit himself inside "you can handle it"

And you can do nothing but take it letting out such sinful little Ah Ah Ah that had all the blood of his taunt muscles rushing through where he was buried deep inside you

"Fuck did you just-" and you're getting shut up by a kiss , bruising , feverish while his hips keep moving, letting out a small pant when he finally bottomed out.

"S-shit" his voice was shaky , his breathing ragged ,his head rested in the crook of your neck movements stopping to let you adjust to his size. you felt so good , so unfairly so. So tight and warm , perfect like you were made for him

"You're gripping me so tightly" he rasped out hips starting to move slowly "so warm so perfect" he continued to ramble in the crook of your neck.

You could only keen , sinful whimpers and moans that went straight to his cock leaving your lips like a beautiful chant.

"Look at you" he raised his head from where it was buried in the crook of her neck "taking me so well" another slow grind "like you were made for me"

"Sylus" you moaned legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. The way you were looking up so expectantly at him with those wide does eyes of yours had him bit back the urge to throw his head back and moan but nothing prepared him for the words that was about to leave your parted lips

"Faster baby"

And who was he to ever deny you?

In the blink of the eyes you find yourself splayed out on your stomach ass raised in the air while he let out such a fucked out grunt.

"My my" he's evening out leaving small kisses on your shoulder down on the arch of your spine "so demanding" a small nibble that made you push your ass down against his pelvis.

His hand automatically found your hip to hold you in place

"Patience kitten we have all night" he chuckled before sliding into you in one full thrust , your head dropping in the pillow with a small gasp

"Faster was it?" Just slamming himself into you the sudden pace making you squeal. Drool trickling down the corner of your lips.

The skin slapping sound was deafening coupled with his occasional grunts and groans had your pretty pussy drooling

"Such a slutty pussy" he groaned looking down at you "look at her" he spread your pussy lips wide open watching how she was drooling all over him "taking me so well like she was made for me, wasn't she? "

You were far too gone to register his words,  too busy moaning to answer his questions but he didn't mind your cunt was talking enough for the both of you and he was determined to keep her talking.

You bit down on the pillow to muffle your scream when you felt his bulbous tip hit your G spot but he wasnt having it

"Dont do that Gorgeous" he yanked you up to bring your back flush against his chest "let me hear the pretty sound you make" he nipped down at the side of your neck,  2 deft fingers coming down to abuse your poor clit. And you couldn't hold back anymore , head lolling on his shoulder while you uttered the sluttiest moans he ever heard. His Tip abusing your G spot with no reprieves.

"That's right sweetheart let me hear you" his touch on your clit never relented not even when you were a sobbing cockdrunk  mess , hips fucking back against his sloppily,  not even when your orgasm hit you like a truck,  waves and waves of pleasure crashing down on you like a sea storm. Sylus never relented his pace fucking another one out of you

"No no more" you let out soft broken whimpers trying to swat his hand on your clit away but he wasn't having it , pinching your clit to make you reliatate.

"One more sweetheart" he murmured against your skin voice so soft and gentle the complete opposite of his relentless hips still pistonning against yours only stooping when he's shooting ribbons of cum inside you painting your insides white and it was so much dribbling down your thighs and his to form a puddle on the sheets below.

Sylus never felt so good , small tears clouding his vision from the intensity of his orgasm,  a strawberry pink blush tainting his cheeks and the tip of his ear , red eyes nearly turned black from lust.

"You're so perfect sweetheart" he peppered small kisses on your neck,  hand trailing down your side in an attempt to soothe you "did so well for me" he kissed your temple before slowly untangling himself from you and laid you down on the bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You were still floating on a cloud nine , his soothing caress slowly bringing you back to life

THAT was WOW the most mind blowing sex you had.

"I am glad you think so sweetie" he chuckled caressing your cheek and that's when you realized you said that out loud

"I mean yeah" you looked away feeling a bit self conscious

"Come on" he cupped your chin to make you look back at him "dont get shy on me now" he caressed your bottom lip with his thumb making you nip back at it.

You minx he groaned. Watching as you took his finger in your mouth to suck at it

"Come on now Mr Sylus" you released his thumb to pepper kisses on his jawline , legs moving to straddle him . "I remember you saying something about 'having all night'. What about we put this time to good use?" I nipped at his earlobe

And who was Sylus to say no to you?

What you meant by putting this time to good use was to get fucked on his mattress,  the floor , the  vanity  , up against a wall, everywhere on his appartment   until you both almost passed out.

Sylus's arms was locked firm around your frame , head buried in the crook of your neck. You stirred in your sleep , eyes fluttering open to take in your surroundings.

You slipped out of the bed stealthily,  trying to make as much as less sounds possible to not wake him up.

Heading to the bathroom to take a shower,  your mouth fell open when you took in the sight of you in the mirror , body littered in love bites and hickeys,  your neck your chest , your back and even your cheek had one

Damn how are you even gonna present yourself at work today?

After taking your shower you wrapped yourself in Sylus shirt that was hopefully big and long enough to act as a dress shirt.

Everything about him is so big.

You did your best to arrange your hair before leaving his penthouse not without leaving a small notes on his bedside table.

When Sylus woke up he felt a small pang through his chest when he realized you were gone .

After making him lose his mind like that last night you dare leaving like a thief?

But a small smile found his way to his mouth when he read your small note

"Thanks for Last night , it's one of the best I've ever had  

Your Staring partner Y/N"

Sylus felt strange sensation on his stomach like butterflies wings before quickly catching himself.

It was just a one-night stand nothing to get too excited about. Still a part of him wished you would've stayed longer , at least to eat breakfast together

You're being way too hopeful Sylus.

This morning you went back home with both of your heart happy and your mind poised not having a single idea of what fate had in store for you

"What do you mean I am pregnant?"

---------------------------------

Pt2 👀maybe??

Tag: @jinwoosbabyboo @poisonf0rest

[skyguytoast]

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN X COSPLAYER!READER - PART TW0

SYNOPSIS: After much hesitation, you finally gather the courage to send Hayden a message. What starts as a simple conversation soon blossoms into something deeper…

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

WARNINGS: none, just fluffy

A/N: Hello sweeties, thank you to everyone who commented and motivated me to try to find any space in my chaotic routine to write... it's short, but I hope you like it🥰 As always, comments, likes and reblogs mean everything to me and motivate me to keep improving! 💖Kisses and good reading! Dividers by @cafekitsune

You stared at the autographed photo for what felt like an eternity, your fingers tracing over the inked letters as if they would somehow make this moment more real. It felt impossible—like a daydream you’d wake up from at any second. Hayden Christensen, your childhood crush, the man who had unknowingly altered your brain chemistry the first time you watched Revenge of the Sith, had not only noticed you but had given you his number.

You still remembered that afternoon vividl y: stumbling into the living room to find your dad watching Star Wars, only to be utterly captivated by him—by the way Anakin Skywalker sat up after that nightmare, shirtless, his golden curls damp with sweat, his tanned skin glowing under the dim light. That was the moment something in your heart shifted, a quiet but unmistakable pull toward him that never quite went away. Over the years, that initial admiration had grown into something deeper—a love for the saga, the characters, the world that felt like home.

It took you nearly two days to save Hayden’s number, hovering over the contact screen like it was a detonator. Another two passed before you finally mustered the courage to type out a simple, Hi.

The second you pressed send, you let out a strangled noise and tossed your phone onto the couch like it had personally wronged you. A wave of nerves crashed over you—what if he had only given you his number out of politeness? What if he regretted it? Were you being too forward by actually messaging him? Your thoughts spiraled, wrapping around you like a thick fog of self-doubt.

You scrambled for a distraction, settling on your ultimate comfort episode of The Clone Wars—the one where Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Count Dooku are captured by Hondo and have to work together to escape. It was ridiculous and lighthearted, exactly what you needed to keep yourself from obsessing over that one tiny text message.

And then, your phone buzzed.

You practically launched yourself across the couch, grabbing it with shaky hands, your heart hammering in your chest. The notification from him made your breath hitch, and you hesitated for a second before swiping the screen open.

"You took long enough, I thought I scared you or something."

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He wasn’t just being polite—he had been waiting. The idea that Hayden Christensen, the Hayden Christensen, had been wondering if you’d text him back, sent a warmth blooming in your chest. The simple, teasing words held a quiet kind of vulnerability, a hesitant curiosity that mirrored your own.

Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a dream after all.

**

The conversations that followed were effortless, light and easy, as if you had known each other far longer than just a few weeks. You talked about Star Wars—your love for the saga woven into every word, recounting how it had been a guiding light through the darker moments of your life. Sometimes, you playfully diagnosed the characters, slipping references to your college work into casual discussions.

Hayden was fascinated—genuinely engaged—especially when you brought up the idea of Anakin having BPD. He asked thoughtful questions, encouraging you to explain your perspective. You eagerly backed up your argument with excerpts from the novels, pivotal scenes from the films, and moments from The Clone Wars, illustrating Anakin’s struggles in a way that made him pause in appreciation. It was a surreal feeling, discussing the psychology of a character with the very man who brought him to life.

At one point, you mentioned using Kurt from Numb, at the Edge of the End in a paper about PTSD, and Hayden’s response was immediate—his quiet pride evident in the way he marveled at your insight. The idea that his portrayal of such a complex character had resonated deeply enough to be studied made him almost bashful.

Of course, you couldn’t resist slipping in Virgin Territory just to mess with him. He groaned, laughing, before admitting, "When you’re young, things seem different. It was a fun script, okay?" His amused exasperation only fueled your teasing, and the playful back-and-forth left your cheeks aching from smiling so much.

But it wasn’t just movies and college that filled your conversations. You talked about everything—mundane life moments, grocery lists, books you were reading, and even wine recommendations. Hayden had an uncanny ability to suggest the perfect bottle for whatever you were cooking, guiding you to pick out a wine that would perfectly complement your carbonara, for example.

Even though you were separated by thousands of miles, there were these small, stolen moments that felt intimate. One night, he walked you through making pizza from scratch, his voice warm and patient as he explained each step. You followed along, flour dusting your kitchen counter, laughing as your dough looked far less appetizing than his on your phone screen.

“It’s about practice,” he reassured you, his voice holding that familiar, easy charm. “By the time I see you in person, you’ll be a pro.”

The way he said it—when I see you—made something flutter in your chest.

It was easy with him. As if some invisible thread had drawn you together, weaving its way through the distance, pulling you closer with each conversation.

Finally, the wait was over.

Hayden was in your city for the May 4th event, and for days leading up to it, you had been orbiting this moment—anticipation thrumming beneath your skin. The long hours spent talking had only deepened the bond between you, stretching across late nights where he stayed on the phone even after you had drifted to sleep. More than once, you woke up to find a screenshot he had taken of your face, soft with slumber, your features relaxed in the dim glow of your bedroom.

"Too cute to delete," he had teased when you protested, the warmth in his voice making you roll your eyes even as your heart melted.

Now, seated by the window of a small, secluded café—one carefully chosen to keep prying eyes away—you could feel the weight of each second pressing down on you. The golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass, casting warm patterns against your skin, but despite the cozy ambiance, anxiety curled in your stomach. The ticking of the clock seemed agonizingly slow, stretching minutes into what felt like hours.

You had just begun absently drumming your fingers against the wooden table, lost in thought, when a gentle hand landed on your shoulder. The touch was warm, grounding, and when you turned, confusion melted into relief at the sight of him—Hayden, standing before you with that familiar, boyish smile.

"You took long enough," you quipped, the words carrying a quiet thrill as they echoed his very first message to you.

His grin widened, his hand lingering where it rested. "Is it weird if I ask for a hug, or does watching you snore on video calls mean we've already crossed that line?" he teased, his voice low and playful, a wink accompanying his words.

"Hey! I don’t snore," you protested with a laugh, shaking your head as you rose to your feet. But before you could say anything more, he opened his arms.

And just like that, you stepped into them.

Hayden pulled you in without hesitation, his embrace firm, warm—safe. He smelled faintly of cedar and something crisp, like fresh air after the rain, and as his arms wrapped around you, a quiet sigh escaped your lips. Your body fit against his as if this moment had been written long before either of you had even realized it.

He held you like he meant it, like the weeks of late-night talks and quiet confessions had woven something unbreakable between you. His palm smoothed gently up and down your back, slow and deliberate, as if grounding himself in the reality of having you there, solid and real in his arms.

You hadn’t realized how much you needed this—not just the meeting, not just the touch, but the quiet understanding that passed between you, unspoken yet deeply felt. His hands skimmed gently up and down your back, steady and unrushed, as if memorizing the shape of you, as if savoring the moment in a way that made it feel infinite.

"It doesn’t feel real," you whispered, pressing your cheek against the curve of his shoulder.

Hayden hummed softly, his breath a warm ghost against your temple. "Then let’s stay here a little longer… just to be sure."

And neither of you moved, caught in the golden stillness of a moment that felt like it had been waiting for you both all along.

TAG LIST: @ihearthayden @anakinstwinklebunny @sometimescharlolette @awhhayden @dessxoxsworld

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #12

synopsis: saying i love you for the first time ♡

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, sasha, connie, jean, reiner, annie, bertolt, levi, erwin & hange

notes: i bought a new jeans album for the first time & i got 5 photo cards?! (i got haerin btw)

☆ eren jaeger - he said it first

oh he always knew, he just refused to admit it. even if he admitted he liked you and maybe you even started dating, which is great and all but LOVING you was a different story. he didn’t know what’d he do if he lost you. however, it’s you. he couldn’t keep it locked away for that long! he spilled the beans in the midst of a conversation and you, of course, said it back.

“so, yeah! i was just sitting there though, i didn’t do anything.”

“y/n?”

“yeah…?”

“i love you”

your jaw dropped to the floor and you stuttered trying to get your words out “i-i love you too, eren! oh my god.”

☆ mikasa ackerman - you said it first

she already told you in a million other ways minus using her words. you knew, she knew, everyone knew!! she would rather show her love through her actions or even a hand squeeze here and there - you needed to be the one to actually say it.

you walked into your room to find mikasa folding your clothes “mikasa, you don’t need to do that for me!”

“but, i want to” she smiled at you

“aww, well thank you.” you gave her a kiss on the cheek “i love you.”

☆ armin arlert - he said it first

oh my gosh, you were so close to telling him until he blurted it out! he knew he loved you but he wanted to wait a while, he felt like he was maybe moving too fast and then he said it and then it was like omg i didn’t mean to, this is really awkward— but, you reassured him that you felt the exact same 🤍

“i love you!” armin suddenly blurted out

“i-i mean… sorry, that was probably too soon. this is going to be awkward now isn’t it? god, i’m sorry, if you want to leave i understand-”

you placed a finger over his lips and giggled “armin, i feel the exact same way. i promise. i was even gonna say it first but you beat me to it!!”

☆ jean kirsten - he said it first

he was sooo nervy! he’s such a romantic boy deep down and he was never quite sure if it was like or if it had turned to love yet until it hit him one day. you guys were just going about your usual day but for some reason, you were even more captivating that day - in the way you walked, the way you talked, something about you just made jean MELT. that’s when he knew :’).

jean was mesmerised by you today, he was non-stop staring even when you were talking to other people. you strutted your way over to your boyfriend

“well, hello” he said

you giggled “what’s up with you today?”

“just… i love my partner.”

your eyes widened and jean giggled “l-love…? well, me too! of course, i love you!”

☆ connie springer - you said it first

he was so confused and scared about these big feelings. he didn’t wanna ruin anything for him nor you and just gahhh! he felt so silly asking anyone about it as well because when you love someone, surely you know? and he did know. he was just scared. you specifically told him on a date, you guys watched the stars and you confessed. he was so relieved to hear those words and his worries suddenly went away, as well.

the air was just crisp enough and the stars were looking particularly shiny that night so what better time to confess your love for your boyfriend than right now!

“that cloud looks like booty cheeks”

you laugh “wow connie, you’re so romantic.”

“sorry” he giggled

“but that’s what i like about you. no, it’s what i love about you. i love you, connie”

“y-you do?” he sat up “oh my god, y/n! i love you too!”

☆ sasha braus - she said it first

honestly, sasha is not the type of girl to let the world that you guys live in get here down! she’d rather live her life to the fullest with friends, family, food and now, you. on a random thursday, she just felt like saying that she loved you. so, she did.

“y/n, i have something to confess.”

you stopped whatever you were up to “okay… is it bad?” you asked nervously

“oh god, no!” sasha reassured you “i just wanted to say… i love you!” she opened her arms wide

you ran to embrace her immediately “sasha! where did this come from? i mean- i love you too.”

☆ reiner braun - he said it

he knew. oh, he knew BIG TIME. but obviously, he had his whole back and forth situation with being a solider vs being a warrior… and the other two, bertolt and annie, had to remind him why they were there. he was also thinking, how the flip did he not only get a partner when they’re the devil but now he’s fallen IN LOVE? he tried his very best to contain his feelings but he couldn’t one day because when you were talking, your eyes looked too pretty and he just said it.

“then me and her got chased allll through town!” you were telling reiner a story, you laughed at your old antics and your eyes were sparkling.

reiner couldn’t hold it in anymore, he laughed and said “god, i love you.”

☆ bertolt hoover - you said it

he was sooo happy and so mushy about you when he realised but he got his booty whipped back into warrior mode and then he had the same reaction as reiner. like what has he actually gotten himself into. he really really tried to bottle it up and he did, but then you confessed. honestly, bro forgot he was from marley for a solid 6 months, he was on such a high.

“so what did you want to talk about, y/n..?” bertolt asked, clearly nervous

“i just wanted to say…” you couldn’t help but smile and finally say “i love you!”

bertolt began to tear up and all he could do was embrace you “you do? you really do? of course, i do too. i love you, a lot actually.”

☆ annie leonhart - you said it

she bottled that shit TF UP! she, unlike the two dull boys she came with, recognised that she loved you but knew she had a job to do, unfortunately. if it was up to her, she’d drag you back to marley and live happily ever after with you (and her dad, ofc). but, of course, you said it. she was obviously estatic but also like, ffs why would you say that😭. made her life A LOT happier but also a bit more difficult…

“annie, i love you.” you said with a rather nervous look on your face, you weren’t sure she would say it back but you couldn’t hold it back any longer.

she stared at you, blankly for a while until she burst into a wide smile and she scoffed “y/n. i love you too.”

you guys hugged and little did you know, annie’s smile quickly faded as reality hit her. what was she meant to do now?

☆ levi ackerman - you said it first

so incredibly terrified. he felt his feelings for you growing stronger everyday but in turn, so did his urge to breakup with you BUT, that was purely because he wanted you to be safe. everyone he has ever loved had died and nothing could prepare him for the pain like you dying would cause. in the end, you did confess to him one day. he wept, he wept and he wept in your arms. just knowing someone loved him enough to admit it, brought him to tears. the fact that you loved him! and he loved you!! but also, there was still that horribly worrying thought in the back of his mind, but he will leave it in the back of his mind for this moment.

“i love you.” three words levi always wanted to hear but made him so scared. he fell into your arms and cried, between his cries he managed to sniffle out;

“i love you too, y/n.”

☆ erwin smith - both admitted it

you guys are just like, spiritually connected. you decided on the same day to confess that you loved each other, it was such a memorable moment for the both of you. it was on your annual date night that you guys had every fortnight and erwin chose to tell you he loved you this day because he likes to be a bit extra for you ;).

erwin grabbed your hands “y/n…”

“erwin…” you replied, “i have something to tell you” he confessed

“so do i…” you both looked at each other, confused “say it on three?” you suggested and erwin nodded. you both counted and said

“i love you!” this caused you both to burst out into laughter, what a coincidence.

☆ hange zoë - they said it first

genuinely almost proposed to you😭. hange takes you and being in love with you, very seriously. it’s like a full time job for them - but in a good way, duh. they wanted to make it fun and special, though.

you and hange were the only ones left out on the training grounds which, of course meant, you had to play tag. you both chased and ran, and did a lot of laughing until you both fell from exhaustion.

as you both caught your breath, hange wrote something in the ground - “i love you, y/n.”

you looked at them and they had this wide smile… they proceeded to say “i love you, y/n!” you smiled back at them and of course said “i love you too, hange!” you both laughed.

hange then proceeded to jump on you and scream “NOW LETS GET MARRIEDDD”

[cherrys-muses]

WARNINGS; *please read before reading* — NOT a romanticized oneshot, manipulation (though not plainly stated, it’s clear that remmick is only trying to feed), mentions of spousal abuse — bruises, mentions of a k*lling, a body, and blood, a vague ending. MDNI — 18+ an; this is my first try with remmick, and i’m not entirely sure if i enjoy this or if i’ll actually do anything else with this character — but i love horror and i thought it would be interesting to try and write something horror. if you do enjoy this, and would like to see more horror based oneshots or anything, let me know!! again, im not romanticizing anything in this short oneshot at all!!! please be sure to read all warnings before proceeding. (this is also just so i can actually catch up on all of jack’s film’s before writing for more characters!!)

It’s something that you barely thought about — locking the front door that leads into you and your husband's home. The fire had been put out long ago, smoke swirling its way up the chimney and into the night sky. 

Living room and kitchen had been cleaned after dinner, your feet hurting from the long day and eyes heavy with sleep. Although, your mind still reels from earlier and the visitor you’d grown to know over the last few months. 

The man’s name was Remmick. He was charming in a strange way, words that could pull you into any type of conversation and never bore you. You’ve known him for four months — he’s realized many, many things, even if you haven’t voiced them. 

He’s harmless. Drinks ice cold sweet tea, loves lemon poppyseed muffins and blueberry biscuits with homemade icing. There is something strange about him though — how he requests the curtains to be closed, and how he wears thick coats in the middle of summer and how he tries to shield himself from the light of day, staying until the sun dips below the horizon just enough. 

You don’t ask questions. You’re just happy to have a friend, someone to listen if you ever need a shoulder to cry on or to speak about the heavy weight on your shoulders to remain perfect. 

He’s caught on with what happens behind closed doors — the way you jerk away from his gentle touch, or the way you pull your sleeve to your wrist — to hide something, a secret. It has something dangerous — primal — wanting to shed its shell and show its ugly form. 

“I could help you, you know?” 

It’s said in passing, making you flinch from his voice breaking the long stretch of the silence that had lingered after sharing a plate that had two blueberry biscuits on top, the icing dripping down to the sides. Your eyes flicker up to meet his. “What do you mean?” The laugh that slips past your lips is shaky, nervous. You begin to shake your head. “I don’t need any help, Rem. I’m okay.” 

You stand, trying to move away from him, the conversation. You reach down, fingertips grazing under the plate before his hand is wrapping around your wrist in a gentle hold. Your heart skips a beat, eyes immediately shooting over to stare at him.

He’s already staring up at you. 

His other hand moves slowly, tugging up the sleeve that hides away any deep purple and blue marks or fading yellow-green ones. Your cheeks flush, embarrassed, and trying to pull your arm away only leads him to tighten his grip slightly and pull you closer. “Remmick, that’s not—”

“You think you’re clever at hidin’ them, but you're not,” His eyes drop down to your arms. Goosebumps raise slowly as his fingers trail slowly up your skin, tracing over slowly. “Thinkin’ this is a type punishment is low for a man,” He shakes his head. 

You watch as his eyes trace around the marks, before his head slowly begins to lower and his hands gently cradle your arm in a soft hold as he lifts it slowly. His lips meet the skin, pressing a soft kiss against a fresh mark. 

You’re sweating now, chest beginning to heave slightly. You know you should stop him, but there’s just something so captivating about the man, the words die in your throat when you feel a slight nip from his teeth. The chair shifts under his weight when he stands, your body stumbling back slightly, pressing into the table from the way he crowds into your space. 

“Let me help.” He whispers, eyes darting down to your lips, then your neck. He watches as your pulse begins to pick up, the smell of sweat beading at the hollow of your throat. He relishes the moment, eyes flickering to yours once again. 

You swallow your spit — your throat feeling as if it was glued together with pins and needles. The thought is intoxicating. You’re not exactly sure how Remmick would help, but you know he would follow through on his word. 

His grin is dangerous, sharp, when you finally nod your head. It’s hesitant, but it’s still yes, help me. 

His hand is cold when he cradles your jaw, something that sends chills over your body, your spine straightening from the touch, and the hair on the back of your neck stands straight. 

“Leave the door unlocked tonight,” His voice is low. “I’ll be sure to not wake you.” 

You’re still awake — your eyes now wiped from the heaviness of sleep they were carrying. There’s something that’s different tonight, something in the atmosphere that shifts. You’re not sure what it is, or what it could be, but the way your heart pounded and fingers clenched at the sheets, you aren't sure that you enjoy the feeling. 

It’s distant when you hear the floorboard that squeaks outside your bedroom — you’ve gotten used to listening for it when your husband would come home at three in the morning. 

The door creaks open slowly, the sound of heavy boots making their way over. Your eyes squeeze shut immediately. The slow, tantalizing steps make your breathing hitch quietly, they’re coming closer to you. 

They stop. A finger slowly pushes away the strand of hair that had slipped against your temple, you try not to flinch. The touch is gone and the sound of his boots make their way around the bed once again before stopping. 

It’s sickening — the sounds. The bed jerks and a hand shoots out to grip your arm, but another is jerking his arm away, the sound of bone cracking has your hand pressing over your ear as you try to bury your head deeper into the pillow. 

The bed jerks once more, roughly, before something drops onto the floor with a heavy thud. Slowly pulling your hand away, your breath shaky with every exhale, you wait to move. 

It’s only a minute. Slowly looking over your shoulder, eyes burning with tears, the sight you’re met with is sickening — there’s deep crimson that stains the pillow case and blankets. Sitting up, you stumble to the ground, head banging against the floor. 

A sob leaves your throat and a sudden pounding against your temple has you feeling even more nauseous. There’s something warm under your hand and face, your cheek sticking to the ground. Slowly opening your eyes, you blink once, the grim reality of what Remmick’s help truly meant. 

Your husband's face is stuck in a scream, fear etched onto his face, the life from his eyes dull. Flaring your nose, you slowly lift from the ground, shaky hand lifting as you stare at the small red river that trails down your arm, wrapping around slowly before dripping onto your nightgown. 

A small sound leaves you as you turn your head, eyes lifting as a quick tear rolls down your cheek. Remmick stands by the window, the moonlight seeping into the room casting a ghostly glow over his body. 

“I told you I’d help you,” His voice is different now — deeper, gravelly. “Now, you help me.”