#anyway yeah i found enough energy to make another

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[maskedbyghost]

Possessive reader has had partners before Simon, yeah? Don't suppose any of them are the same flavor of 'mine mine mine' regarding her? Cuz if so, Simon's gonna need to clean up those loose ends. Can't have them thinking they can try and object at the inevitable wedding like some kind of Hallmark movie!

Omg YES. The reader definitely has an ex or two still a little hung up on her, because let’s be honest, someone that obsessed, that intense, that ride-or-die? She’s not exactly forgettable.

You didn’t even react when the text came in. You barely glanced at your phone, just rolled your eyes, and went right back to folding laundry like it wasn’t worth your energy.

But Simon saw it. You knew he saw it because he stopped what he was doing, leaned over, and picked your phone up off the bed without even asking.

“Who’s that?” he asked, even though he was already reading it.

You shrugged. “Some guy I used to fuck around with before I met you. He’s been blocked since last year, so I guess he found a new number.”

Simon didn’t answer. Just stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the message.

You still with that guy? You deserve someone who actually sees how good you are. You know where to find me.

You didn’t even try to explain. What was there to say? You’d deleted that man like an app you forgot existed. Gone. Done. But Simon wasn’t looking at you—he was still staring at your phone, his jaw tight.

You sat back on your knees, watching him. “Don’t get quiet. You know I don’t give a shit about him.”

“I know,” he muttered, his tone calm. “But he doesn’t.”

That’s when he tapped a few things. Deleted the message, blocked the number again. Same way you would have. Except he held your phone for another minute after that, just looking at it. Not saying a word.

Then he handed it back and stood up like nothing happened. “I’ll take the trash out,” he said, heading toward the kitchen. Which was weird, because there was no trash. Not in the actual bin, anyway.

You tilted your head. “You mean metaphorically or—?”

“Both,” he called back.

And that was that. You didn’t ask, you didn’t need to.

You knew Simon wouldn’t do anything stupid, but you also knew he had a way of handling shit when it pissed him off enough. Not like you—loud, mouthy, dramatic, always saying shit like mine mine mine until he groans and tells you you’re a menace while literally pulling you closer.

But him? He didn’t need to scream. Didn’t need to threaten. All he had to do was decide something—and then it was done.

Still, later that night, you were sprawled across his lap, phone in hand, scrolling for something to watch, when you decided to poke the bear a little.

“Y’know,” you said casually, “if some idiot tried to object at our wedding, I’d probably laugh in his face and then throw my shoe at him.”

Simon didn’t even look up from where he was rubbing slow circles into your hip. “Wouldn’t get the chance.”

You smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you’d handle it?”

“No,” he said, finally glancing up at you. “Because anyone that stupid won’t make it to the wedding.”

You stared at him for a second.

Then you leaned in real close, grinning like the psycho you are. “God, I fucking love you.”

He kissed you hard, like he was trying to remind you he was just as gone for you as you were for him.

“Yeah?” he muttered, breath hot against your lips. “Then quit stressin’ about shit that’s already handled.”

And you did. Because you knew—anyone who still thought they had a shot with you? They didn’t anymore. Simon made sure of that.

Not because he was jealous. But because you were his just as loudly and unshakably as he was yours. And anyone who didn’t get the memo?

They’d be lucky to walk away with a warning.

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

this was the last request i had sitting in my inbox for these two, so if y’all want more unhinged possessive nonsense, you’re gonna have to ask, i’m always down to write more of them, just need ideas to work with. you know where to find me <333

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate @xocandyy @nightfwn @robinfeldt98 @xiisblogs

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[burekforsatoru]

meddle about

sebastian(stardew valley)/f!reader | read it on ao3 you can't stare at him while he's on stage without expecting him to offer to take you back to his house and meddle about, right? wc: 4.2k tags: smut, piv sex, oral sex, unprotected sex 𓇼 ⋆.˚ masterlist

the music was vibrating in my chest.

i repeatedly cursed myself for forgetting the damn earplugs, but they had said it would just be a little, quickly put-together gig. sam was so sweet, inviting me in person instead of relying on the posters he had put up around pelican town, making sure i knew when to get to the bus stop. 

“make sure you're there by 4,” he had said with an excited smile on his face, “or we'll leave without you.”

now, several hours after we'd all bumped along the long stretch of road to zuzu city (all of us apart from sebastian, who apparently insisted on taking his motorcycle), i stood in a crowd bigger than i’d expected, shoulders bare as i tied my shirt around my waist.

it got stuffier as the evening went on, band after band filled the stage with their energy and music, the goblin destroyer already having finished their set. sam found me in the crowd, already pumped with adrenaline after strumming the guitar and singing their first ever set. 

he excitedly shouted into my ear, something about the band currently playing on the stage, gesturing wildly with his hands, but i couldn’t follow. not fully, anyway. sebastian stood next to him with a somewhat bored expression on his face, taking the finished cigarette and dropping it to the ground where he stepped on it with the heel of his shoe. 

“...do you want one?” sam poked my bare shoulder, expecting me to answer, but i hadn’t even heard the question. 

“what?” i shouted back, getting on my tiptoes to reach his ear.

“getting a beer, you want one?”

i shook my head, waving as he did a thumbs-up with both his hands before turning and starting towards the bar. sebastian stayed. i looked around to locate abigail, but she was excitedly talking to some people from the neighbouring village. i got on my tiptoes again, getting closer to sebastian so i didn’t have to shout too much.

“your set was really good.” i was so close i could smell his cologne mixed with sweat. his head dipped lower, reaching my shoulder with his warm breath as he spoke.

“thanks, hope it wasn’t our last.”

just as i was about to chuckle and respond saying it was just the beginning, that the goblin destroyer were just beginning their ride to glory, i felt his hand snake around my waist. he held me, a little taken aback, but mostly just blushing with how forward it was for his usual self. different. kind of like the way he swayed me with him, kind of to the rhythm of the current song. 

“seb…” i didn’t say it loud enough for him to hear, too caught by surprise to be louder as my hips moved with his, slightly shifting so he stood behind me. his fingers were splayed over my hips and i swear i could feel the warmth of his hand even through my jeans.

sebastian’s chin rested against my temple and his other hand found its way to my other hip, now holding me against him a little firmer, with a little more confidence.

i cursed when the song ended, expecting him to release me, but his hands stayed put.

as the applause roared around us and the band on stage prepared to do another song, sebastian’s breath tickled my ear and i could hear him better.

“wanna come over later?”

“o-over?” i cursed at myself, realising what he had meant only after i’d already asked.

“yeah, to my place.”

my heart was beating through my throat, thumping relentlessly as i swallowed.“oh come on,” sebastian let out a chuckle against the side of my head, “did i imagine you eye-fucking me while i was on the stage?”

my heart sped up, i didn’t think i’d been that obvious, though i could hardly remember anything from their set that wasn’t the way sebastian had flicked his hair out of the way, the shape of his focused brows…

and the movement of his hands on the keyboard, the slender, deft digits caressing the keys with skill and passion–

“well?” his hands tightened on my hips, pulling me against him a liiittle tighter, it was almost embarrassing how much i enjoyed feeling him harden against my ass.

“when later?” my breath caught in my throat and i felt his chest move as he laughed.

“impatient?”

“let’s go now” i turned around, spinning out of his hold and facing him, my blushing face be damned.

i must have caught him off guard, being so eager, but damn it he was right. i had been staring at him the entire night. the entire season, actually. ever since i had first spoken to him.

without another word he pulled me towards the exit, where he’d parked the motorbike. before i’d thought it was a little pretentious of him to forgo taking the bus with the rest of us, but now i was grateful for it. i just hoped sam wouldn’t freak out when he discovered us gone…

the ride was quick and refreshing, after the stupid heat at the venue i welcomed the whipping wind with a grin on my face. i could hardly control my movements as sebastian parked and brought the bike into his garage, fumbling with the keys as he let us in. soon enough we were dashing down the stairs to his bedroom.

i wasn’t unfamiliar with his bedroom, having visited quite a few times now. I’d brought him random minerals i had found at the mines, i’d come over to play solarion chronicles, or just to hang out on the couch and read his comics while he worked. but now i saw it in a different light, or lack thereof.

in full, promising darkness, i could hardly make out the shape of his bed when he spun me around and pressed me against the door. his lips parted mine and i let him press me between the hardwood door and his warm body, the heat pulsing between us was made nearly unbearable.

so it was no surprise that sebastian reached down to the hem of my top, quickly sliding it up and off my body over my raised arms, barely breaking that searing kiss.

i’d have been perfectly happy staying against the door, had he not spun me around and dragged me to the bed. as i sat down on the edge, searching for a safe path blindly, he reached to the side and turned on the bedside lamp. it cast a gentle glow onto both our faces, helping me in the mission of getting him out of that hoodie. now topless, he crawled over me and i lay on my back on top of the slightly crumpled sheets. 

the pillow my head rested on smelled of him and i briefly imagined what it would be like waking up on that same pillow to the sight of his sleeping face. the face whose gaze was currently hungrily devouring my entire form, wondering where he was going to start unwrapping what was left of my clothes.

suddenly, those same deft fingers i had watched dance along the keys on stage were on my jeans, unbuttoning them and untying the flannel shirt that was tied around my waist. lifting my hips, i helped out by shimmying out of the offending clothes before i undid his jeans, tugging on them so he would hurry up.

i didn’t want to wait anymore, but his pace was teasing. it was building tension so high i could hardly fit more of it into my throat before having to let out an impatient huff. he caught the sound of it and smirked, yoba it was a sinful curve that made me tug on his jeans harder.

sebastian’s hand knocked my fingers off his jeans paired with a click of his tongue. he was dead set on doing it himself, torturing me with his slow movements. finally, he was left only in his boxers, having slid off his jeans along with his shoes and mine. there was a little wet patch on his boxers, right where his leaking tip pressed against them, achingly hard, constricted, and begging for air. 

he caught me looking down his chest, stomach, that little patch of dark hair trailing underneath the waistband of his boxers, and finally settling my gaze on the perfect outline of his cock. i smirked ever so slightly, entertained by the show of neediness in his boxers. sebastian only scoffed, grabbing my knee and moving it to the side to spread my legs wider.

“you’re no better, you know?” he teased, lowering his head to ghost his lips over mine while the hand not holding my leg trailed up my inner thigh, settling on the wet patch of my own. right on the sweet little panties i had innocently picked out after stepping out of the shower today, ready to go see my friends’ first ever gig.

poor past me had no idea those same panties would be rubbed in this way hours later, that they’d be pushed between my already wet folds by sebastian’s slender finger as he got them wetter, gliding up and down to collect my slick on them.

the way sebastian trailed that finger up and down my wet slit made for gently stimulation, coaxing slow, drawn out moans from my lips only to be caught in his mouth as he brought them down to kiss me again. he swallowed every single needy sound, fueling them more and more as he pressed a little firmer against my clothed clit.

i reached up into his hair, tangling my fingers into those strands that he had always flicked away from his eyes, always fussed with despite the fact that they were obviously covering his face on purpose. 

his hand tightened its grip on my leg when i tugged on his hair, his breath vibrated in my mouth. this is it, i thought, this is how i break you.

almost as if he sensed my feeling of victory over his composure, he pulled away from the kiss and stopped rubbing my pussy to wipe the string of saliva that connected our lips. his self-control didn’t last long, for he immediately continued kissing, only not my lips, leaving them to let out small gasps and huffs of pleasure while i was still holding onto his hair and making myself believe i was guiding him at all.

sebastian’s lips grazed my skin as he trailed them down to my breasts, slowly taking my bra off by sliding his hands under my back to unbuckle it surprisingly skillfully. one nipple soon found its way into his mouth, being warmed by his breath and toyed with his tongue, while the other was under gentle care of his thumb and index finger. 

the way he played my body like his damn instrument had me lifting my hips up, searching for any kind of friction, anything to help me relieve some of the pressure building in my abdomen. it was thrumming, loud and violent in my body, but he took his damn time. this is it, i thought, this is how you break me.

it seemed to amuse him greatly, my blatant want and inability to get satisfied quickly. he let out deep chuckles against my nipple, popping it out of his lips with a wet sound before he could continue down my body over the tingling skin, leaving fiery patches as he kissed and bit my flesh.

both his hands were finally on my body, holding my hips down and preventing me from bucking them upwards, though not for lack of trying. i struggled against his grip, desperate for more while he seemingly found immense enjoyment in watching me unravel on his bed.

i kept tugging on his hair, kept making him gasp against my warming skin while he made his way to where he would inevitably stop just to piss me off. those eyes lifted and stared right into my soul, looked at my pitiful expression, lips parted, eyes glossy, skin so flushed. leaving one last kiss right under my navel, he had some mercy on me.

his lips parted and pressed against my clothed pussy, his tongue ran up and down my already wet garment, slicking it with his saliva more, sucking against it and humming to vibrate my needy skin. still, he wouldn’t let me lift my hips, still he held me down against the bed, prolonging my efforts at grinding my cunt on his face.

“s-so meaaaan” i whined out, tugging on his hair to try and pull him closer against me, curling my toes in frustration.

“you haven’t seen mean yet,” he vibrated the air between his wet lips and my unfortunately clothed pussy, “i can be worse.”

the smirk he wore got me groaning in frustration, but it clearly wouldn’t help me get what i wanted. he wanted to play dirty, to have me on edge until i pleaded for him, to reduce me to a puddle that he could lap up with that warm tongue.

“but you’re right, it’s not fair.” sebastian’s fingers hooked under my panties and he slid them down. i was so damn relieved that my breathing got faster, i moaned at the very feeling of air on my wet folds that he dove right into.

parting them with his tongue, he pressed it flat against my clit, gently licking up and down and releasing my hips. as soon as his hands left my body i lifted myself off the bed, grinding up into his face, tugging his hair, whining, moaning, cursing. it was the sweet release that i’d been waiting for.

somehow, he let me use his mouth, he willingly went along with my movements, at the same time taking his boxers off. now he was matching the pace of my hips against his face with the movement of his own hips against the bed.

suddenly, just as my whimpers got louder, as my fingers pulled on his hair tighter, he closed his mouth around my pulsating clit and sucked harder. that simple action coaxed a pretty whine from my pouty lips as i came, thighs shaking around his head, pressing together dangerously as he let me squeeze his face with them. using his tongue, sebastian led me through the orgasm, lapping up all my juices carefully, making sure not to spill anything.

fuck, the wet noises of his mouth mixed with the moans from my mouth caused my head to spin. i could just lie there like that for the next few hours, had i not wanted to feel him inside of me. he was the same, for with another, almost gentle, kiss to my pussy he crawled over to kiss me on the mouth, slipping his tongue to glide against mine, letting me taste myself on his lips.

i pulled him closer, drinking in the mix of his saliva and my juices, pulling his entire body against mine and wrapping a leg around his waist, grinding up to feel his hardened cock grind against my sopping cunt.

“i’m feelin’ mean again” he whispered against my lips, breathing into them before once again kissing hungrily, “wasn’t done making you beg.”

in response i whined and pulled his body closer, desperately trying to grab onto him to not let him pull away and torture me again. sebastian chuckled, lifting his torso up despite the nails that i dragged down his back, and settled between my thighs once again. instead of keeping the distance from me, he spread my legs again, holding them apart as he got closer, resting his cock between my folds.

he started to move, grazing my clit with the underside of his shaft, making me lift my hips with every thrust, but in vain, as i got no friction from it. this time it wasn’t just my noises that filled the room.

despite his own initiative to keep the teasing up, to not actually give me any relief, he was moaning as well. he let out a little whimper, instantly scrunching his face in embarrassment, probably hoping i hadn’t heard it. oh, but i heard it.

and it spurred me on to lift my hips higher.

“fuck, this wasn’t supposed t–”

“wha– what, your little p-plan not working, hm?” i teased him, finally donning a smirk on my face as he looked like it was getting harder keeping himself from just fucking me like he meant it.

“brat” he huffed out, releasing one of my legs to lead his hard cock to my entrance, gently poking into it.

sebastian hissed as his tip entered me, drawing a higher pitched moan out of me. instantly, the bastard pulled out, leaving me empty and wanting.

“looks like i’ve got a few more tricks, huh?” he was way too happy with himself, teasing my dripping cunt by only putting his damn pretty tip in and taking it out, smearing it with my wetness, spreading it down to his shaft.

“you’re sooo–”

“say please.” he interrupted me. cutting off my attempt at insulting him.

i closed my mouth, furrowing my brow as he pressed his tip against me again.

“say please and i’ll stop pulling out.”

it was a no-brainer, but my proud mind could hardly just accept the defeat. i wanted to make him fold, but here i was, spread out, teased, desperate for him to stuff me full and fuck me like i’d never felt it before.

“h-huh?” playing dumb only made him roll his eyes and bring his hand down onto my clit, gently tapping it as if making sure i was aware of my naked state.

“don’t you huh me, say please,” he rubbed my clit so slowly it was almost painful, “or the tip is all you get.”

i gritted my teeth and took a deep breath before swallowing my defiance and in my best, sweetest voice pleaded with him.

“pleeease?”

“please what?” damn bastard wanted me to beg and grovel, his smirk kept growing, kept getting more annoying, yet so damn attractive.

“please, sebastian, fuck me… properly, ‘wanna feel you all inside me, wanna… wanna cum on your dick, please.”

my pouting must have worked, because he leaned down to kiss my pout before spreading my thighs again, looking down at the needy blushed cunt spread open before him, and pushed inside me again.

he groaned and it was the most magnificent sound i’d heard. his hips bucked ever so slightly against me, but he didn’t go much further inside. barely more than the blasted tip again. once i started whining, he brought his hand down on my clit again.

“i said i wouldn’t pull out, didn’t i? damn impatient brat.” he clicked his tongue, though under all that bravado he was still trying to keep it together, his eyes betrayed it. “keep those legs open for me.”

i obeyed him, keeping my thighs comfortably open so he could keep moving between them.

once he stopped breathing so deeply, his hips moved slightly forward, giving me a little more, but not quite what i wanted. before i could let out a whine, he let a drop of saliva roll off his tongue and land on my clit. it made me hiss, but he ignored me, instead rolling my pulsating clit under his thumb.

he played me like his damn keyboard, making me sing exactly how he wanted, whimpering under his touch while he kept his tip inside me.

gently, slowly, he slid in a little deeper, making me curse and in turn getting my clit played with a little harder. sebastian let out a slow hum, as if savouring the feeling of my cunt contracting around him, squeezing him in to keep his cock inside, sucking it in, needing it.

“so damn…” he shook his head, finally meeting my eyes as he held my hips with those elegant fingers, “tight, fuck how…” with another hum he slightly pulled away, but still keeping his tip inside, as he promised.

doesn’t mean i was happy with it. my hand sought out his, so i gripped his wrist, keeping myself grounded in the moment. after a few moments he slid deeper inside again. yoba, i felt every damn vein on him, i felt it drag inside me, teasing me with that gorgeous texture. my back arched into the air. the sight excited him so much he had to slide in deeper and give me more. more, once again.

the bastard then pulled back, waited until i gave him a dissatisfied whine, and then slid fully into me.

i threw my head back on his pillow, moaning out into the dimly lit room, trying to get used to having all of him inside me. sebastian’s head dipped down low, he held me in shaky hands for a few moments until he could get enough of a grip to start moving. it was something almost sacred, the way his cock hit all my sweet spots so well. his balls slapped against my ass with light taps until he decided to speed up, his teasing be damned.

“a-ah l-like tha-at” i held onto his wrist with one hand, tightening the grip, and onto the headboard above me with the other. i sure hoped it was sturdy enough, because he kept going faster, harder. thrusting into me with heavy grunts and an occasional whimper as my body arched, getting the angle just right, getting it to make stars dance behind my closed eyelids. his voice behind my eyes looked like bright fireworks, moaning, grunting, whispering fuuck, so pretty, so sweet, filling the air with lewd noises.

“yoba, ‘m not gonna… not gonna last that lon– oh fuck…” with a voice like he was on the edge of an orgasm already, sebastian slipped nonsense between those parted lips.

only fuelling my moans further, he grabbed me tightly, wrapped his arms around my waist, and lifted my hips off the bed. oh, that was sending me into another dimension. he kept sliding in and out, so freely now as he let himself stop being so damn mean and stuffed me full, gliding in and out of my slippery cunt.

as sebastian’s thrusts lost their constant rhythm, the moans from his lips increased, now reducing him to a mess as he held me up, using me like his personal toy to ruin, using me to extinguish the fire in his abdomen and mine. i felt my thighs shake. the whines and curses from my mouth grew higher in pitch, so fucking needy for him, tightening around him, sucking him into myself.

“a-are you gonna…” i tried to enunciate, tried to speak in a normal tone, but it was pathetic.

“y-yeah i’m… are you?”

“m-mhmmmm”

feeling my lip quiver, i grabbed the sheets under me. sebastian lifted me a little higher, speeding up once again, building up a pace he could hold as he thrust inside me. but out of the blue, i cried out, gripping the sheets tightly to hold onto something solid as i tightened around him and came, shivering while he kept pumping in and out of me.

now he was cursing louder. whimpers came in between grunts, a few more rough thrusts before he groaned loudly, throwing his head back as he slowed down while emptying himself inside me. he rode out that high with his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly moving my body that was nearly limp in his hands, filling me up with his cum as it shot into me.

gently, sebastian lowered my hips back onto the bed, slowly pulling out of me. he looked at the spot where we had been connected just a minute ago, his release now slowly trickling out of it. the view must have been hypnotic, he kept looking for a few long minutes, catching his breath while my limp body lay there exhausted.

warmth was spreading into me again, from my core to my fingertips. i closed my eyes for a second. the second lasted longer than planned, since as i opened my eyes, sebastian was standing next to the bed with a wet cloth, reaching down to clean me up with gentle touches. i looked into his focused face, seeing none of that mean smirk he had worn before he let himself enjoy me. i guess in a way we broke each other.

i groaned as he moved my legs, feeling gummy under his touch. chuckling, he dropped the used cloth next to the bed and crawled carefully over me. his warm arm brought me closer, rolling me into his chest as he dragged the covers from under me and over both of us. my cheek gently rested against his chest as he turned the lamp off, once again sinking us into darkness. this time the dark felt softer, all tension from it seemed to have disappeared while his hand rubbed my back in slow circles.

“so…” i started, feeling a sly grin curling my lips, “round two?”

he snorted in laughter, coughing before sighing in disbelief.

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“you’re outta your damn mind.” he paused before pressing an uncharacteristically tender kiss to the top of my head. “at least give me five minutes…”

[ekybrini]

Back to Strangers | LUKE HUGHES

— ⟡ summary | Libby Carter, a college student who has sworn off any athletes after hearing the amount of rumors of how they treat people. When Luke Hughes, a persistent hockey player, starts pursuing her as part of a bet with his friends, Libby is determined to keep her distance. But as they spend more time together, she starts to question whether his feelings are real or just part of the game.

— ⟡ warnings | none (that i know of)

— ⟡ word counts | 1.9k

— ⟡ gab's note | hii ! im so excited to finally start writing again after a while. I finally got the energy to actually write something after months and come back to tumblr. hopefully I can post more (senior year is kicking my ass at the moment so hopefully after the semester is over I can post and write more!) I think this can potentially become a au (we'll see!) anyways im sorry for the inactiveness, but I promise to try to be more active! also I apologize for how long this is

“Dude, I’m just saying, you’re all talk,” Ethan teased, leaning across the booth at their usual hangout, a local diner near campus. The rest of the guys Seamus, Mackie, and a couple of others were clearly enjoying this way too much.

“I’m not ‘all talk,’” Luke shot back, stabbing his fork into his pancakes. “I just don’t waste my time on relationships.”

“That’s because you couldn’t even if you tried,” Mackie chimed in with a smug grin.

Luke snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

“No, seriously,” Seamus added, leaning in. “You think you could get any girl you want, but there’s one who would never go for you.”

Ethan smirked, a challenge lighting up his eyes. He gestured subtly across the room. “Libby Carter.”

Luke followed his gaze and saw her immediately. Libby sat alone at a table, curled over a thick textbook, twirling a pen between her fingers. Her long brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and she was dressed in oversized Michigan sweatpants and sweatshirt that swallowed her frame. She was pretty, no doubt, but there was something about her that seemed untouchable. She didn’t go to parties and barely looked at guys, she was mostly in her own world.

“Good luck with that,” Mackie added.

Luke leaned back in his seat, his smirk growing. “You guys really think I couldn’t make her fall for me?”

Seamus grinned. “Bet you fifty bucks you can’t get her to fall for you by the end of the year.”

Luke’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of challenge and amusement. “Easy money.”

“Hold on.” Ethan raised a hand, cutting through the banter. “Fall for you. Not just go on a date. Not just hook up. She has to actually like you.”

Luke thought for just a moment, the implications settling in. That was different. But his pride wouldn’t let him back down.

“Fine,” he said, shaking on it.

☆

Libby Carter had three rules coming to college:

1. Keep your grades up.

2. Avoid distractions.

3. Never, under any circumstances, date an athlete.

The last rule wasn’t some baseless prejudice. It was a fact. The University of Michigan athletics team, specifically the hockey team had a reputation of a mix of cocky attitudes, effortless charm, and just enough talent to make girls “fall” for them before moving on like the next game on their schedule. Libby had seen it happen too many times, and she wasn’t about to be another statistic.

Which is why, when Luke Hughes star defenseman, future devil player, and walking definition of temptation started showing up everywhere she went, she found it incredibly weird.

Libby was used to keeping her distance, to keeping people at arm's length, especially athletes who believed they could charm their way into anyone’s heart. She had more important things to focus on like her studies, her future, and avoiding distractions at all costs.

But Luke was persistent. The first time he approached her, she brushed him off.

"I’m really not interested," she said, her voice cool and detached as she glanced at him, then quickly looked away.

Luke didn’t back down. "I get it, but I just wanted to say hi. No pressure."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hi? That’s all you came over here for?"

He nodded, smiling a little. "Yep. I promise, I’m not trying to sell you anything."

She chuckled dryly. "Well, congratulations, you’ve succeeded in being the most annoying person I’ve met today."

Luke laughed, unfazed. "I’ll take that as a compliment. Can I try again tomorrow?"

She shook her head, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "no.”

"I’ll be back." he said, grinning

And with that, he left her with a lingering sense of curiosity.

The second time, she shot him a look that could have frozen him in his tracks. But Luke wasn’t one to give up easily. And when it came to proving something to his teammates, he never backed down.

"Seriously?" she said, her voice like ice. "You’re still here?"

Luke’s confidence wavered for just a moment, and he almost considered turning around and walking away. But he shook off the fear, his pride kicking in. He wasn’t about to back down out of the bet now.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice a little tighter than he intended. "Still here. Just thought I’d try again."

She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing to slits. "And what exactly are you trying to prove? That you’re persistent?"

"Maybe," Luke said, forcing himself to stand tall despite the sudden unease. "But I’m also a man of my word. I said 'tomorrow' last time. I’m just here to keep my promise."

Her gaze didn’t soften, but he could’ve sworn there was a flicker of something in her eyes was it amusement? He couldn’t tell.

"You’re relentless," she muttered.

Luke let out a nervous laugh, trying to regain his footing. "I like to think of it as determination."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed, but her stance was a little less intimidating now. "Well, don’t think you’re winning any awards here."

Luke held up his hands in mock surrender, forcing a grin. "No awards. Just a friendly hello. That’s all."

He was still shaking off the sting of that cold look, but something told him he wasn’t done yet.

☆

It wasn’t long before Luke’s presence became impossible to ignore.

At first, Libby thought it was just a coincidence when she saw him in the library, a place she frequented to escape the chaos of the dorms and study in peace. Luke, the star defenseman who could have any girl he wanted, hunched over a stack of papers and books, clearly out of his element. She thought maybe he was there for the same reason quiet study time though she had her doubts.

When the pattern repeated itself, though, Libby had to admit something odd was happening. Luke showed up at the coffee shop right when she ordered her regular, a steaming caramel macchiato. He somehow ended up sitting next to her in the huge lecture hall, despite having no real reason to be there. He started bringing up random facts about in economics, as if trying to make conversation in their econ class. Libby had no patience for it, but even she couldn’t deny the way he challenged her, poked at her intellectual comfort zone. And the more she pushed him away, the more he persisted.

“Do you have a reason for following me around?” Libby finally demanded one day after they ran into each other in the library for what felt like the hundredth time.

Luke looked up from his notes, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Who says I’m following you?”

“You sit next to me in class, even though you’ve never done it before.”

“Maybe I realized Econ is more fun with company.”

“You don’t even take notes.” libby said with clear annoyance.

“I have a great memory aka photographic memory,” Luke shot back with a wink.

Libby rolled her eyes, clearly fed up. “Look, if this is some kind of game, I’m not playing.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, the easy smile never leaving his face. “What makes you think it’s a game?”

“Because no one suddenly starts to follow around someone unless they have something they want.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “and what exactly would i want?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Girls who don’t fall for the whole hockey player charm.”

Luke hesitated, unsure how to respond. Part of him knew she wasn’t entirely off base. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up just yet.

“I like a challenge,” he said with a shrug, flashing her a grin.

Libby scoffed. “Good luck with that, Hughes.”

And yet, she couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered just a little bit longer, his eyes never quite leaving her.

☆

Luke had noticed Libby sitting alone in the corner of the library for the past few days. Her nose buried in a textbook, surrounded by notebooks, and coffee cups. She was quiet and intense.

But there he was, walking up to her table, feeling the weight of his decision with every step. His friends had dared him. They had said it would be funny if he actually pulled it off. But deep down, Luke wasn’t sure why he wanted to get to know Libby. Maybe it was the challenge, or maybe it was because there was something about her that made him want to prove he could get through the wall she put up. Either way, he knew one thing for sure he was going to try.

He cleared his throat as he reached her table, leaning against the edge to keep his balance. Libby didn’t even look up, her eyes scanning the pages of her book with laser focus.

“what do you want hughes?” Libby said clearly annoyed of his presence

"Hey, Libby," he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little more nervous than he intended.

She didn’t respond. Her fingers flipped to the next page, like she hadn’t heard him at all.

Luke hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should continue or just walk away. But the thought of his friends would not let him back down now. He took a deep breath and tried again.

"I was, wondering if you’d want to study together for the upcoming econ test?" he asked, unsure of what he was really expecting. The words sounded stupid even to him, but he pushed forward. "I mean, we both know this material. Thought it might be easier to go over it with someone else, you know?"

Libby’s eyes flickered up to meet his, just for a brief second, before she went back to her book, clearly unimpressed.

"I study alone," she said, her voice flat and uninterested.

Luke didn’t take the rejection well, but he wasn’t about to let it go so easily. He had a point to prove, both to his friends and to himself. So, he pressed on.

"I get that. I mean, I do too," he said, trying to sound cool, like they were just two people casually discussing a study session. "But it’s just, uh, I heard you’re pretty good at this stuff. You know, the whole economic thing. And I figured you might want to go over a few things with me. Could help you out too, right?"

He could feel her staring at him, though she said nothing. He was so close now that he could almost see the tiny furrow in her brow, the slight irritation building behind her eyes. He knew this wasn’t going well, but Luke wasn’t the type to give up. He leaned in a little closer.

"I’m serious. I’m not asking for a charity case or anything," he added quickly, trying to sound more genuine. "I just thought it’d be a good way to get this over with."

Libby’s gaze stayed fixed on him for a long moment, studying him like he was some kind of puzzle she was trying to figure out. Luke braced himself for her to turn him down again, but then, to his surprise, she spoke.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll study with you, but only if you leave me alone after this, especially with following me around."

Luke blinked, not sure if she was being sarcastic or serious, but he nodded quickly, trying to mask the sudden burst of excitement in his chest. "I get it. Just, you know, the studying part."

Libby gave him a curt nod. "Yeah, whatever. We’ll meet here tomorrow, same time." She turned her attention back to her notes, clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

Luke stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. He’d actually gotten her to agree. He had spent so much time imagining how this would go, and it had ended with Libby of all people giving in. It wasn’t the most enthusiastic acceptance, but it was something. He smiled to himself, relieved that he hadn’t been shot down completely.

"Thanks, Libby," he said, his tone genuinely appreciative. "I won’t let you down."

She didn’t respond, her eyes now fixed firmly on her textbook as she scribbled notes with a speed that almost made Luke dizzy. He stood there for a moment longer, watching her, unsure of what else to say or do. Finally, he turned and walked away, the sound of her pen on paper the only noise filling the quiet of the library.

The next day, Luke showed up early, a little nervous but excited to see how it would go. He had never studied with someone like Libby before. She was serious, focused, and didn’t waste time with small talk. It was a stark contrast to his usual study sessions with his friends, where there was always some kind of distraction or joke in the air. But Luke was determined to make the most of it.

Libby was already there, sitting in the same spot, her books spread out in front of her. She didn’t even look up when he walked in, which, somehow, made Luke feel a little more at ease. He grabbed a chair, sitting down across from her, trying his best to ignore the fact that she was barely acknowledging his presence.

"Ready?" he asked, hoping to break the silence.

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she just gave him a quick glance, then sighed as she flipped through her notes.

"Let’s get this over with," she said, and Luke couldn’t help but grin.

She didn’t like him, but she had agreed to study. And for now, that was enough.

After a while, one study session became a whole month study session. In which both of them met twice a week to study together.

"That’s... impressive," he said, breaking the silence, his voice quiet but sincere.

Libby didn’t look up. "Yeah, well, it’s not that hard if you actually pay attention."

Luke chuckled, leaning against the table. "I don’t think I’ve ever been that focused on anything."

Libby finally glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "Maybe you should start. Then you might pass the next test."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fair point. But I’m hoping you’ll be my secret weapon."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "I don’t do secret weapons," she said, her tone a little less harsh but still firm.

Luke smiled, feeling a brief sense of connection, even if it was just fleeting. "Alright, no secret weapons. Just trying to survive here."

For a long moment, there was just silence between them again. Luke shifted awkwardly, realizing he had no idea how to keep the conversation going. He wasn’t used to talking to someone who shut down his attempts at charm so easily. But there was something oddly comforting about it. She wasn’t impressed by him, and for the first time in a long while, Luke didn’t feel the need to prove himself.

Finally, he let out a quiet laugh. "I’ll leave you to it, then. See you tomorrow?"

Libby nodded without looking up. "Yeah. Don’t make me regret it."

Luke had always prided himself on being a guy who didn’t get emotionally attached. Relationships were messy. They took time, effort, and a lot of care. And that wasn’t something he was interested in. Not with his career on the line and his focus on hockey. But somehow, spending time with Libby made him rethink everything.

It wasn’t instant, but it was inevitable. He found himself waiting for their study sessions, looking forward to their debates in class, and wanting to hear her opinion on everything from the economy to the latest sports scandals. She was smart, sharp, and had a sense of humor that kept him on his toes. And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was just playing a part or living up to some stereotype. With Libby, he was himself.

☆

It happened one night, during one of their late-night study sessions. They had finished working on their assignments, and the conversation had shifted from academic talk to something more personal.

“You really hate hockey players, don’t you?” Luke asked, his voice quieter than usual.

Libby sighed, rubbing her temples. “It’s not that I hate hockey players. It’s just that I’ve seen how you guys treat people. You come, you charm, and you leave. I’m not falling for that.”

Luke hesitated, the weight of her words hitting harder than he expected. “Not all of us are like that.”

Libby shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just too cautious, but I’ve seen too many girls fall for that routine.”

Luke wasn’t sure how to respond, but the sincerity in her voice made him realize just how much he was beginning to care about her. He didn’t just want to prove her wrong.

There was a long pause, the tension between them thick. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, but neither of them seemed in a hurry to break the silence. Luke’s mind raced, but he finally said what had been on his mind for a while now.

“Libby,” he started, his voice a little steadier now, though still laced with a touch of vulnerability, “we’ve been studying together for a month. And yeah, I get that you don’t really think highly of me or anyone for that matter. But... I’m not like that.”

She raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced, but she didn’t interrupt him.

“I’m not asking you to change your mind overnight,” he continued. “But I’d really like the chance to show you I’m different. To prove it, you know?” He took a deep breath. “At least go on one date with me. Just one. No pressure, no expectations. Just… a chance to get to know each other outside of these study sessions.”

Libby opened her mouth to respond, but Luke quickly added, “I’m not asking you to fall for me or anything, just let me take you out. And if you still think I’m just like every other hockey player after that, I’ll back off. I swear.”

There was a quiet moment where Libby just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Luke could feel his heart racing, wondering if he had just ruined everything, but at the same time, he was relieved to have said it. To have put it out there. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her answer to be, but he knew he couldn’t hide how he felt about her any longer.

Finally, she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “You’re really persistent, aren’t you?”

Luke smiled a little, trying to lighten the mood. “You could say that.”

She considered him for a moment longer before her lips curved into a small, almost reluctant smile. “Alright. One date. But I’m warning you, you’ll have to work hard to convince me.”

Luke’s heart skipped a beat, a mix of relief and excitement flooding him. “Deal. You won’t regret it, I promise.”

She shrugged, but there was something soft in her eyes that Luke hadn’t seen before. “We’ll see.”

With that, they both stood up, packing away their things in silence, but something had shifted between them. Something subtle, yet undeniable. Luke walked away from the study session feeling lighter than he had in a long time, knowing that for the first time, he was truly starting to break through the wall Libby had so carefully built around herself.

“alright, friday then, we’ll meet at my dorm and then head somewhere” luke said before walking out of the library.

☆

It wasn’t until Libby accidentally overheard a conversation between Luke and his friends that she realized the full extent of what was going on.

She was walking to the library when she caught a snippet of conversation.

“…can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” Ethan was saying. “She totally fell for you.”

Libby froze in her tracks. The weight of his words hit her like a punch in the gut. She stood there, just outside their line of sight, trying to keep herself hidden behind the row of books in the library. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the words caught her off guard and dug deep. Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing.

“Yeah, man,” Luke replied, sounding almost too casual, like it was no big deal. “I told you it’d work. Once I show her a little attention, she can’t resist.”

Libby’s stomach churned. Once I show her a little attention she can’t resist? Her pulse quickened, and she took a shaky step backward, the books in her arms suddenly feeling heavier. She wanted to leave, to run away and escape from the reality that was starting to settle on her. But something kept her frozen, something in the way Luke's voice sounded like he had no idea how much those words cut.

“I’ll give it a week,” Ethan laughed. “You’ll have her wrapped around your finger by then. You know how you are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Luke muttered, a laugh escaping him. “I’ll make sure she has a good time. No need to worry.”

Libby couldn’t hear the rest of their conversation. She didn’t want to. The words echoed in her mind like an incessant drumbeat.

Libby had thought no, hoped that Luke was different. That maybe he wasn’t like all the other guys who had charmed their way in and out of her life. But as she replayed his words over and over, she couldn’t deny the sinking feeling in her chest. He had played her.

A part of her felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. How could she have been so naive? She had known what guys like him were like she’d seen it happen so many times before. The flirtation, the attention, the charm, and then, just as quickly, they moved on to the next girl, leaving behind a trail of disappointment. She had always sworn she wouldn’t fall for it. And now, here she was, feeling like she had walked right into the trap.

But the sting wasn’t just from the fact that he’d been playing her. It was from the fact that Luke seemed to believe it was all some kind of game something he could just turn on and off like a switch. Maybe he hadn’t meant to hurt her. Maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing. But it didn’t matter. She had let herself get pulled in, thinking that there was more to him than that.

She stood there for a while, trapped in her own thoughts, until the sounds of his friends talking faded away. she had decided to come to the library a bit earlier then usual for there next study session bust after that conversation she went back to her dorm ghosting luke’s messages to see if she’s coming. She had already read them twice but hadn’t answered. Part of her wanted to tell him she wasn’t showing up, but another part of her just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard, but no words came.

Her fingers hovered over the screen again, and for the first time, she allowed herself to fully confront the fact that the trust she had begun to build with him was shattered. She had tried to convince herself that he wasn’t like the other guys the ones who came and went without a second thought. But now? She wasn’t so sure anymore.

She thought back to their first few study sessions, how she had actually started to enjoy spending time with him, how she believed he might actually be different. But now, the way he had spoken so nonchalantly, so carefree made her feel like nothing more than another notch in his belt. she didn’t admit it but she was starting to like him.

*What was I thinking?* she wondered. *I should’ve seen it coming.*

☆

Her phone buzzed again, this time a message from Luke. "Hey, are you still coming? i’m waiting for you. Let me know."

It’s been a couple days since they last talked. The words felt like a punch in the gut. It wasn’t just the fact that he was still trying to get her to show up it was how easy it seemed for him, like this was all a game. She had allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was something real there. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized how foolish she had been.

Libby stared at the text for a long time, not knowing what to do. She could go and face him, confront him about what she’d overheard. But the thought of seeing him, of hearing him casually brush it off like it was nothing, made her stomach turn.

So, she made a decision. She didn’t reply. Instead, she locked her phone and shoved it in her bag, the weight of it a reminder of everything she had tried to avoid everything she had hoped wasn’t true.

Back in his dorm, Luke checked his phone for the third time in a row, his heart sinking a little more each time. No response from Libby.

*Maybe she’s just busy,* he tried to tell himself. *She’s probably studying. She said she had work to do.*

"Man, you good?" Ethan asked, poking his head into Luke’s room.

Luke glanced up, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just waiting for Libby. She’s probably on her way."

Ethan gave him a skeptical look. "You sure? i thought you said you guys were gonna meet at the library? i doubt she’d ghost you, i mean you just asked her out.”

Luke's stomach dropped. *Ghost you.* He hated the way that sounded.

"I’m sure she didn’t." Luke said, but there was no conviction in his voice.

Ethan eyed him for a moment before shrugging. "Alright, man. Just don’t let this drag on. the semester is close to ending"

Luke didn’t respond.

☆

It had been a few days since Luke had last heard from Libby. The unanswered texts, the quiet air between them it weighed heavily on him. His mind raced, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Was she mad at him for something he said? Did she really think he’d been playing her all along?

He tried to shake it off, but something kept gnawing at him. He needed to talk to her. He needed to fix whatever happened.

Without another second of hesitation, Luke grabbed his jacket and made his way to Libby’s dorm. His heart hammered in his chest with every step. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, but he couldn’t just sit around waiting. He needed answers.

When he reached her building, the nervousness hit him harder. *What if she doesn’t even want to talk to me? What if I’ve ruined everything?* But he couldn’t back out now. Not after the hard work he put in to talk to her.

Luke knocked on her dorm door, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. He waited, shifting from foot to foot, hoping she’d answer. Moments passed, and just as he was about to knock again, the door opened.

Libby stood there, her arms crossed, her face expressionless. She looked almost distant, like she had already made up her mind about everything.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice colder than he expected.

Luke swallowed hard, his nerves threatening to betray him, but he pushed them down. “Libby, we need to talk. I don’t know what’s going on.”

She shook her head, the hurt in her eyes unmistakable. “No, Luke. We don’t need to talk. You need to leave.”

His stomach twisted at the finality in her tone. “What? Libby, please. Just hear me out”

“No, Luke,” she interrupted, her voice rising just a bit. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to waltz in here after what I overheard after what you said to make it seem like everything is okay.”

Luke blinked, confused and thrown off. “What are you talking about?”

“Is this how you see me?” Libby asked quietly, her voice cracking slightly. “Just another challenge for you to win? Another girl to charm, get close to, and then drop once you get what you want?”

Luke’s breath caught in his throat after realizing what she’s talking about. The look of betrayal in her eyes hit him harder than any physical blow.

“Libby, I—I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. It wasn’t like that. It was just”

“Just what, Luke?” she cut him off again, her voice steady now, but firm. “Just a bet? A game? You think I wouldn’t find out?” She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I heard it with my own ears. You were talking to Ethan and the others, talking about how you could pull it off. About how I’d fall for you. About how it would be easy.”

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“No,” she said, her voice trembling now, but her resolve stronger than ever. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever it is, I don’t care. I don’t want to see you again, and I don’t want to talk to you again. Ever.”

His heart sank. “Libby, please. I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. You’ve got to believe me, I wasn’t playing you. I care about you. I really do like you.”

Libby’s eyes softened for a split second, but only for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and looked at him with a finality he hadn’t expected.

“No. You don’t. Not the way you think you do. You don’t get to act like this is something you care about after everything I heard. You don’t get to tell me what’s real when you’ve been lying from the start.”

Luke’s chest tightened. He couldn’t find the words, the right words to make this right. He’d messed up. He had been selfish. He’d been careless with her trust.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could manage to say. The words felt too small for the weight of what had happened.

“I don’t need your apologies, Luke. I need you to leave.”

His heart broke all over again as he stared at her, seeing the pain in her eyes, feeling the distance between them grow with each passing second.

Without another word, Luke turned to walk away, the heavy feeling in his chest making it feel like every step he took was an effort. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He knew he’d lost her. And this time, there was no coming back from it.

Libby closed the door softly behind him, her heart aching, but relieved. The door was closed now. The distance was real. She would never let herself fall for someone like him again.

Libby didn’t know what to think anymore. Luke had broken her trust. The bet was one thing, but hearing him confess his feelings so casually, like it was just some passing remark, left her feeling more betrayed than she cared to admit. She’d told him time and time again that she didn’t want to be a part of his games, but now it seemed like that was exactly what he had turned her into.

For days, Luke tried reaching out. Texts, calls, small gestures. But Libby wasn’t interested in anything he had to say. She couldn’t trust him anymore, and the walls she’d spent years building to protect herself from people like him felt taller than ever.

But Luke wasn’t about to give up, not when he finally understood that what he felt for her wasn’t just about the challenge.

It wasn’t at a game or a party, but in a quiet corner of the campus library that Luke finally caught her alone.

“Libby,” Luke said softly, his voice a little rough. She didn’t look up at first, but he didn’t let that deter him. He stepped closer to her table, his presence impossible to ignore. “Can we talk?”

Libby glanced at him briefly before her gaze fell back to the book she was pretending to read. She could feel the familiar sting of hurt, but something in his tone made her pause.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” she said, though her voice lacked the usual edge.

Luke’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he began, “I should have told you sooner, but I got caught up in the bet. And I... I didn’t think I’d actually fall for you. I never expected this.”

Libby’s lips parted in surprise, but she didn’t speak.

“I like you and i know already told you,” he continued, his words slower now, more deliberate. “Not because of the challenge, not because of some stupid bet. But because of who you are. I know I messed up, and I’m sorry.”

Libby’s gaze lifted from the book to meet his eyes, searching for the sincerity she needed to hear. “You’ve been persistent,” she murmured, the words almost to herself. “But I’m not sure if you even know what you’re saying.”

Luke took a step closer, lowering his voice. “I know what I’m saying, Libby. I don’t want you to be another bet. You mean more to me than that, and I’ve messed up, but I want to make it right.”

The silence between them hung thick for a moment, the weight of his words settling. Libby looked at him, her heart torn, but the earnestness in his eyes made her hesitate.

“I need time,” she whispered, her heart racing. “But I’ll think about it.”

Luke smiled, the tension in his body loosening just a little. “I’ll wait.”

And for the first time, Libby allowed herself to believe that maybe just maybe there was a chance for something real between them after all, but she wasn’t going to give in right now.

[petew21-blog]

Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

[raekensluver]

pls write kinda like an opposites attract established relationship thing with chrismd where the gf is a vlogger who is george clarke's bsf - something with the same vibe of 'so highschool' by taylor swift?

masterlist | main masterlist

ohhhhhh i love this idea!!!!!

contains: fluff, established relationship

chris dixon x fem!reader

you’re sitting on the edge of chris’s bed, camera in hand, very aware that you’ve filmed a grand total of ten seconds all morning.

your audience asked for a “day in the life” vlog. so far, that includes one clip of you drinking tea in silence and another of chris missing his mouth with a grape. twice.

“you filming?” he calls from the kitchen, where he’s definitely pouring cereal into a bowl like he didn’t just finish a full breakfast twenty minutes ago.

you raise your voice just enough. “trying to.”

he appears in the doorway a second later, cereal in hand, leaning against the frame with the kind of practiced nonchalance that should annoy you more than it does. his hair’s a mess. his hoodie’s yours. and he’s already smirking like he knows how this’ll end.

“need content?” he asks, coming to sit beside you. “i can do a backflip or emotionally overshare- dealer’s choice.”

“just… be normal.”

he laughs. “see, now you’re asking the impossible.”

you shake your head, camera resting quietly in your lap. the light from the window hits his face in a way you’ll never capture properly- messy and real and golden.

he nudges your leg with his knee. “everything alright?”

you nod. “yeah. just tired. distracted.”

he doesn’t push, just shifts closer until his shoulder brushes yours. it’s nothing dramatic. he knows you don’t do dramatic. he gives you quiet, not silence- makes space without asking for any.

you let yourself lean into him. just a bit. his arm finds your waist instinctively.

“george still think i’m a menace?” he asks, voice softer now, more curious than anything.

you snort. “he knows you’re a menace.”

“right, but like… charming menace?”

you hum thoughtfully. “jury’s still out.”

he grins, pleased anyway. “he’s just jealous. he thinks no one’s good enough for you.”

“he’s not wrong.”

“well, lucky for him, i’m way above average.”

you laugh, and he softens at the sound. like he’s always listening for it.

and it’s funny, you think. your followers always assumed you’d date someone like george—quiet, steady, measured. someone calm.

and then there’s chris: full of energy, loud opinions, and a deep love for ridiculous outfits. he is chaos wrapped in a smug hoodie. he makes no sense for you on paper.

but somehow, he fits. perfectly. like he saw through your shell the minute you met and decided he liked what he found inside.

he tugs lightly at your sleeve. “you know you’re kind of it for me, yeah?”

you blink. “what?”

he shrugs, like he didn’t just emotionally dropkick you. “just saying. you’re it.”

your heart stutters. then steadies. “you’re not so bad yourself.”

“nope,” he says, already smug, “you definitely like me.”

you smile. “a bit.”

he lies back, tugging you down beside him, arm curled around your waist like it’s second nature. your camera sits forgotten on the floor, lens still rolling.

and maybe the vlog ends up being mostly useless. maybe george will tease you for it later- something about how you’re whipped and hiding it poorly.

but you don’t care.

you’re here, wrapped up in someone who sees you exactly as you are and somehow wants you more for it.

and it’s all kind of perfect.

[theempressofthenile]

ASTROLOGY EDITION - THE SENSUAL APPEAL OF THE NAKSHATRAS

Hey, so I've been more focused on the nakshatras lately.. and love getting into how sensual, flirtatious, raw and powerful some of the nakshatras could be. I may start this off with just the nakshatras itself, focusing on the sign and its energy as opposed to the planets in each of these naks. So yeah. Lets get into it ;)

So first is up, Hasta. There the ones who really inspired me to do this so here we go.

Hasta - Delicate. Refined. Opened Hearts. Very sensual beings who know how to ease you into to their souls. They have a replenishing auras that could fulfill the desires of another. Oop, did I say that? They are indeed the temptress, the ones that will make you fall in love with, as they know you will never get anything from the in return. Having been hurt in the past, they usually carry themselves with a tight armor, only this time they know they wont have to... Because someone will always take the bait ;)

Hastas are truly amazing at crafting their hearts into the desires that they want. So much so, they'll utilize their sex appeal in order to get what they want. Very smart, coi and productive... Their like the jaguar you dont see coming. They always get what they want, because others are more than likely to give to the hastanian babe whenever they please.

Rohini - Ooooooh! They are sooo seductive. They have a quiet temper that is aroused when the right soul meets into their arms. They're only lovers for the plot. If it gets too deep and on the wrong foot then their outta here. Sorry busta!If you don't give it to them the right way, then they won't be here for long. They are only here for one purpose, and that is to fulfill their desires in more ways than one. Like their hasta friends, they know how to go for what they want, and they'll get it by any means necessary.

There temptress powers they carry can attract an audience if they let it. There touch can last for hours, penetrating into the skin like magic. They are the doorway to salvation. Pleasure is their profound language. It is a blessing and a curse to be this type of delight. A special occasion, they keep anyone anyway who is not deserving of their love.

Anuradha - I feel like this one deserves a round of applause ONLY because they do not share these gifts so easily. The people could want more but that isn't enough. Once they get a hold of your tempting magic people will definitely try and take you to the pits of hell. So its kept in a jar, locked away for a while until the anuradha babe is ready to go for the kill. When she wants it, she will. And when mama's hungry, shes gonna eat ;) Siren-like eyes that can penetrate into your soul. It can spook you ;) But all the Anuradha wants is to entice, it is how she gets what she desires. She has a flow that is naturally pulling like the Jyestha, we don't know what it is but its powerful, convincing, and its rare. The anuradha is the type to pull yu in, to the point that when she catches you in her spell.. she will eat you alive. Its better to stay away if you dont want to be bit, but her allure is just so damn powerful. It'll have you begging for more.

Krittikas - Their raw sexuality will pour into your skin, and before you know it.. they've already gotten you into their mini web. Darling.. the ones who where this nakshatra on their sleeves use every bit of their power to seduce the right one.. sometimes it catches others too. There striking presence keeps the others wondering where have they been all of their life. The one who moves to the beat of their own drum, tameless. It is why so many try to focus on wooing you in order to make you into what THEY want you to be.. and you beat em at their game every time. The seductive prowess they carry show a reflective force from the moon down to the sun, with its rays being so powerful it has everyone looking at them.. waiting to explore what is deep inside the krittika, only to be found later in their dungeon. Taking their souls, and never to be heard of again.

Shravana - They have a very powerful aura that pushes the narrative about themselves. They have the gift that keeps on giving. They know what to do with their seduction, its the one that gets them the highest bidder! What shapes you, is the power of the mind, the soul and the spirit. So they do themselves the diligence to create from within, and not without. They are hungry to learn more about their presence as their gifts connect to the souls of thousands.. What I mean is that these babes have a gift of opening up the godlike force that many try to emulate.. but many can't do. There seductive prowess inspires thousands to watch them as they watch to the shravana native, craving for their affection.. As they can be so very giving, but with a price. It all comes down to them wanting to be at the top, and they'll whatever they can to get it. It comes with a sense of ease, and they'll choose their favorite worshiper to teach ;)

Mula - HOT HOT HOT!!!!!! They don't even know how deep this goes.. but they penetrate into your skin with no effort. There gift is in spiking you with their mind, and leading you in with their heart.. They know how to entice you into doing for them and fitting to their needs.. You wont even blink an eye and yet wont even care. You'll just be glad to be in their presence is all. They have a special aura that most find pretty enchanting, and their souls spark a conversation one what makes them so unique.. because most people are mystified by them and begin to take notes.. but they will never know what that is to be exact. Which is what makes their seductive prowess just that damn good. It exists for them and them alone.. if they decide to share this with you consider yourself LUCKY.. Because they like you more than the rest, and who they are and how they carry themselves is a gift you when they want to share it.. Whew.. they'll really touch you in ways you won't forget.

I will post on the rest of them soon. Let me know in the comments how you feel about the nakshatras !!

[juuuulez]

📰 | dessert.

i can imagine being woken up at ridiculous hours because carmen needs you to try a dish…anyway that’s what this is + domesticity + husband carmy + soft pregnancy vibes.

short and sweet.

You’re lying half-asleep in bed, vaguely tethered to reality by the distant clanging of pots and pans. It isn’t enough to fully wake you, too comfortable buried under the thick blankets, having finally found the perfect position where your stomach doesn’t seem to get in the way.

Which, lately, it’s always in the way.

The door creaks open, and Carmen’s footsteps are quiet, feather-light. He sits down at the edge of the bed, one hand nudging your shoulder, the other guiding a spoon into a little dish he sits on his lap.

The movement rouses you just enough, gaining the smallest inkling of consciousness. It’s in front of your face and pressing against your lips before the awareness can fully set in, velvety chocolate coating your tongue. The taste is thick, yet not overwhelming, somehow both dense and light at the same time. Maybe some sort of mousse.

“That’s.. yeah, ‘s good..” You mumble, eyes blinking open blearily to twist slightly on the bed, moving to face him. The movement causes your shirt to ride up, not bothering to tug it down, despite the slight chill that spreads over your stomach.

Carmen’s hand finds the edge of the duvet, pulling it to cover your body properly. “Good?” He echos. “Just good? C’mon, baby. Gotta give me a bit more than that.”

You suck in a breath, resisting the temptation to fall back asleep, which has amplified now that he’s finally next to you. It has to be around 1am, at this point. Usually, the baby keeps you up, kicking incessantly, but it seems the little bear has finally quietened down. Not Carmy, though.

“I dunno, Carm. I like it,” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed. “It’s good.”

Without your gaze on him, Carmen looks down at the dish, staring into the ceramic bowl like it’s his worst enemy. About a thousand things run through his mind, all with the primary focus being perfecting the desert.

“Yeah, okay..” He’s resigned, already making a move to try and stand. The motion causes you to stir again, a hand blindly fumbling with his wrist to pull it back in.

“No, don’t take it away. I’m not done.” You protest.

The spoon has already been caught between your fingers, and Carmen doesn’t have it in him to stop you. It penetrates the light mixture with ease, scooping another mouthful of the light mousse between your lips.

“It’s not right,” Carmen would say, sounding so utterly defeated. “You don’t have to eat it.”

You simply shrug, having already gone back for the last little piece. “I wanna eat it. I’m hungry.”

The smile threatens to return to Carmy’s face. With the renovations underway, he’s been missing his time in the kitchen. So, he brings it home. Working endlessly on new recipes, testing menu variations, anything to keep his mind running. Maybe the notion of having a child is starting to freak him out a little, so the work serves as a distraction.

“Hungry?” He repeats, “Weren’t you just asleep?”

“Well, I’m awake now. Might as well eat.

It’s a sound argument, and Carmen knows not to push it. He’s just lucky that you’re always so willing to put up with him like this. So, he puts the empty dish down, taking the spoon and laying it on the bedside counter.

He’ll stroke your hair while you chew the last mouthful, your eyes coming to a soft close. There’s some chocolate on your lip, which Carmen swipes off with his thumb, before sucking the digit into his mouth. It doesn’t taste that bad.

“I’ll join you soon.” He promises, leaning down to place a chaste kiss to the same spot. You give a small grunt in response, wanting to persuade him otherwise, but not having the energy to do so.

You’ve already melted back into the pillow, happy and sated with the taste of chocolate on your tongue.

[bwobgames]

They get inside and arrange sleeping partners.

Of course, the couples couple up.

Marigold and Nina get to their room

“Is it comfy?”

“Yessssss”

“Hehe, seems like we’ll actually get to relax this time”

“I could fall asleep right here… But the train experience…”

“We can sleep later, let’s have fun! In a calm pace”

“Well, what should we do? Look at the scenery pass by? Crochet?”

“Hmm…”

A fun expression passes her face

“You should be bad.”

“Oh? Should I?”

“You should be bad!!”

“Nina, we’re in a mission. The hunt of the season”

“Let’s snatch their wine”

“Ehehehe”

Talking to Nina always makes her feel younger. As if they were still college students with small responsibilities.

As if they never grew old.

As if life didn’t get in the way.

But enough of that, there’s wine to snatch.

She enters the eating area

The objective has been located, behind a devious guard. What riddles will she have to solve?

“Excuse me, can we take these?”

“Of course.”

Fool. Now they are gonna take it! AND drink it!

“And these?”

“You can take any”

He doesn’t suspect a thing

“Here here, it’s the fruit one that you like”

“Oh! It’s been a while! since I had this”

To imagine that smile was erased for so long. And Mari has no one to blame but herself.

Well. There’s someone else to blame but she’d rather not speak ill of the dead. It’s not worth her time.

She finishes her cup in one go. She can feel it in her system.

She used to be able to down coffee, beer and energy drinks like there was no tomorrow, but these days alcohol hits heavier.

Like her knees.

And back.

And various other articulations.

Sadly, for those parts, a good song just came up in her head and has injected rhythm in her blood.

“Careful with your dress!”

“We’re in vacation! Dresses don’t get stained!”

“Say that to you tailor!”

“I’ll tell him to shove it!”

“What are you even dancing to?”

“Beethoven symphony number 5”

“Really?”

“No, it was Footloose”

“Hahaha!”

She moves in a manner that would terrorize her ballet teacher. He can shove it too.

Oh right! The wine! Happiness should be shared.

“Let’s share this”

That detective is no lightweight, he’d give this drink good use.

They go back to where everyone is and have yet another cup, this time in cheerful chorus.

Until Vivi arrives with the latest news: New people are here!

A group of young adults, possibly university students. The type to hitchhike across the country.

Part of her always wondered how that would be, but she’s too used to the comforts of modern transportation and housing to brave it out in nature.

…If she were to be in an abandoned island, would she survive? Her spirit is too strong to give up, but her skills just aren’t enough. She knows nothing of that life.

Oh well. That’s not going to happen, so she shouldn’t worry.

Huh. For an objectively relaxing trip, she sure has a lot of weird things coming to mind.

One of them is the word “haunted”.

Oliver and Ángel explained it. She’s a bit… sad, that Nadia didn’t trust her with this. She said it was to not worry her, but Marigold is her mother! Worrying is what she’s here for!

He’s lucky she never found him at the house. She would’ve given him the talk of a lifetime.

Also killed him, maybe.

Anyways, train is haunted? Yeah, right. She can’t help but admire the publicity stunt, but these kids are taking it too seriously.

Great accidents, ghosts, otherworldly monsters, they’re still too young to understand where the true horror lies.  

A heart full of greed.

He says her piece and leaves; she has no time for bedtime stories.

It seems that Nina decided to hang around for a bit, probably to talk about the glasses girl.

Even as much as everyone has tried, no one can truly cure Nina’s heart.

And she highly doubts if His ghost appears it would make it any better.

She walks until she remembers that she doesn't have to go anywhere

Wineless and Wifeless, she sets a new objective.

<PREV START NEXT>

[hellsitedotcom]

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*·˚ FIRST KISS HEADCANONS : SUNDAY *·˚

Yeah, Sunday escalated a little, which is why he was moved to this post, lol. That's...kinda throwing off my initial plan for these posts. Anyways, bone app the teeth??

*·˚ warnings/info: well, there's obviously going to be mentions of kissing; reader implied to be shorter than Sunday. *·˚ english isn't my native language!

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⭒˚｡⋆ Sunday ⭒˚｡⋆

⇢ Sunday the kinda guy to have his first kiss after an old-fashioned date or something. I mean, my characterizations of everyone keep changing more extremely than the weather in Germany, but yeah, bare with me for the current one. ⇢ Spending time with Sunday (and sometimes Robin) was almost like an everyday occurrence to you. You were...friends? Well, you certainly were close. It wasn't unusual for you to be alone with him, have long conversations about nothing and everything, go out to get dinner with him. ⇢ And you didn't expect today to look any different when he invited you over to spend time with him at his place, thinking he just needed some company in Robin's absence. After all, you were close, and that's what people who got along with each other did - spend time together. ⇢ But, as you spent time with him, laughing over anything you found funny enough, you felt the energy between you was...different than usual. Sometimes you caught Sunday looking at you a little longer than usual, physical touch lingering, and eventually, you found yourself standing beside him on a balcony, overlooking the Morning Dew Dreamscape, your meeting slowly coming to an end.

''I don't think I'll ever get over this view,'' you sighed, leaning against the railing as you watched Morning Dew's sunrise. You had been to a handful of different Dreamscapes, but nothing could ever compare to those that shared the beauty of the morning sun with you. Beside you, Sunday chuckled softly, his shoulder almost brushing yours as he joined you, ''Well, maybe there's a beautiful sunrise somewhere out there just waiting for you to finally witness it.'' ''I have to find a way off this place first, no?'' you quipped, glancing over at him, ''And I guess I can't really do that until Robin returns. Can't just leave you alone, can I?'' When your eyes met his, you found that Sunday had already been looking at you, a gentle expression on his face. ''Well, I'm glad you're still around,'' he muttered quietly, his smile making you flustered, ''I don't think there's anyone whose company I enjoy more.'' ''Yeah? Huh, I don't think Robin would want to hear that,'' you joked, your voice softer than before, almost hesitant. The atmosphere around you was changing, the innocence of the early morning hours suddenly filled with another emotion, one you couldn't name just yet. Sunday just laughed at your response, turning to face the sun, ''I doubt she'd be surprised.'' ''I'm sure she realized it long before I did,'' he continued, catching you slightly off-guard. With a perplexed expression, you just stared at him, repeating his words in your head. You knew that Sunday considered you someone he shared a close relationship with - otherwise, you wouldn't be here right now - but it still made your heart skip a beat to hear him voice it all so openly. In the pale morning light, you found yourself entranced by him, watching the way the soft rays danced across his face, making his golden eyes shine even brighter than you had ever seen. His words kept repeating in your head, quietly, like a choir as your mind went through all the possible meanings behind the simple sentence. ''I hope she doesn't mind that I'm her brother's favorite,'' you finally spoke again, sounding far more off than you had expected, making Sunday turn to meet your gaze. He was smiling, a mixture of amusement and endearment on his face, ''She knew that it was bound to happen.'' ''Besides,'' he added, turning around to fully face you, ''I care about the two of you in very different ways. Robin is my sister, my family. And I love her the way you love your own blood.'' A heartbeat of silence. The world around you seemed to slow down, the ambiance noise as if muted while Sunday continued his speech, ''While my feelings for you and my sister aren't...that unalike, there is an important distinction. I feel familial love for Robin, while I feel something much deeper for you.'' The beating inside your chest made you think your heart was about to break out of your rib cage, and you didn't even realize that you had stopped breathing, unable to break eye contact as you stared at the man, straightening up while trying to process his words. Neither of you was saying anything right now. You were both just looking at each other, the atmosphere completely changed. Sunday seemed as if he was expecting an answer, but your mind was racing in overdrive, unable to form coherent thoughts. And, while Sunday was starting to grow slightly nervous given your...lack of response to his ''confession'', something inside you just- switched. The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them, catching not just you, but also the man off-guard. ''May I kiss you?'' Another heartbeat of silence. Then, a soft chuckle, relief flooding Sunday's expression, ''You may.'' And you did, leaning forward, the nervousness terrorizing you as your lips met his in a soft, brief kiss before you pulled away again, your hands shaking slightly.

You were about to say something, comment on...everything that had been said and done today, but before you could come to word, Sunday cut you off with another kiss, this one longer, deeper, and as you stood there in the light of the early morning sun, you found yourself hoping the moment would never pass.

Sunday held you close after that, his forehead resting against yours as you just stood there, allowing the rays of sunlight to engulf you, the pale golden hue like a sign that you had made the right choice, that you had found the right one.

For the longest time, neither of you wanted to leave, lost in the other's embrace until Sunday slowly pulled away, a sigh escaping his lips, ''I fear I probably have to get back to work.''

''I- I know,'' you muttered, looking up at him, ''Just...a few more minutes? Is that alright? I just...I don't want you to leave yet.'' Your voice was quiet, almost fragile. You couldn't remember the last time you sounded this vulnerable.

And Sunday noticed, eyes widening momentarily before he began to smile, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up and place another brief kiss to your lips, ''Just a few more minutes, then I'll have to get back. But you're welcome to stay with me if you want.''

[twst-drabbles]

Riddle 18

Summary: Riddle comes over to your dorm with the intention of lecturing you on how to keep a handle on Grim after the trouble he caused a few days ago. It takes a while for him to realize that you're only wearing a towel the entire time he was talking.

(I would've gotten this out a while go, but then I descended the coding hole and redid the structure of the code in my neocities website, because I found a much easier way to upload my stuff onto it. Sooo, yeah here ya go!)

"As such, it do you well to at least memorize the first fifty pages of my notes. It will give you a solid enough foundation to begin with Grim's discipline." Riddle slammed yet another carefully noted and annotated journal onto your study stable, not once glancing away from it as he flipped through the pages to point out particular notes of interest, like you were actually right there over his shoulder.

You weren't. You were currently on your bed, skin still wet and shiny, clad in only a towel, casually leaning back. You were watching him, half-listening, half-wondering when in the world you gave the impression that Riddle could come into your dorm without so much a polite knock.

A few days ago, you were given warning via Ace and Deuce that Grim caused trouble yet again, and Riddle was nothing short of livid. Riddle, too, gave his warning, but it was more of a "I have freed up a slot of time for your future lecture," type of deal. As in, Riddle gave you no room to convince him otherwise. Literally thirty minutes later, and about two minutes after you've finished your shower, Riddle was through your door, small heels clicking on your floors, and barged his way into your room with journals and books piled in his arms, practically covering his vision.

And you? In a towel, on your bed, still steaming from your shower. You should probably put on some clothes, but honestly? You'll do that later. It's not that big of a deal anyways.

So yeah, Grim wasn't here at the moment. He took off as soon as he heard that knocking, and you've stopped bothering with trying to wrangle him in. You did, however, lock the windows and blocked the holes he uses to crawl in. You'll probably lock all the doors while you're at it so he has no choice but to beg his way back inside. Or if he's too arrogant to beg, sleep outside.

"Alright, so I need you to pay particular attention to this passage, since your current method of discipline is clearly not enough." Riddle was entirely absorbed in a world of his own, not having once looked back at you.

"Mm-hmm." What is with this assumption that you're Grim's guardian/caretaker/whatever? And why lecture you about this subject? You don't exactly care.

"And to truly understand this section, you'll have to study on chapter one-hundred and thirteen of the assigned bibliography I have for you. And–"

"Mm-hmm." You scrolled through your phone. Huh. Sam is having yet another surprise sale at his shop. Wonder what that's about.

Finally, Riddle stopped with a small, frustrated sigh. "It seems you're not truly listening to–"

Upon his pause, you leaned forward and turned off your phone. You propped your chin on your hand. "Sorry, sorry. You were saying?" Gotta pretend that you're listening to Riddle can get this lecture over with faster.

Though, you get the feeling this will take longer than usual.

"I-I," Riddle took a careful step back, tumbled on the carpet, and grabbed the table before he could land on the floor. "I-what-I–"

His eyes were flitting over every part of you, clearly unable to look away as the color of his pale face rapidly turned red. It would've looked cute, if it weren't for how fast the color turned purple. His mouth kept moving, trying to make noise, or some semblance of a sentence, but all he could get out was fragments instead.

You raised an eyebrow. "Well? You're not gonna continue?" He did come in as soon as you finished your shower. You figured he'd be at this until you've gotten the energy to finally get into some comfy clothes.

Riddle began to look less like a college student and more a creature you've squeezed into almost popping. He spun around and slammed his hands on the table. His shoulders shook, trying with all his might to keep his composure before he crouched and cradled his head in his arms.

"Riddle?"

Huh. You didn't think you being naked was that big of a deal. Your body is just that, a body.

Riddle twitched and stood ramrod straight. Awkwardly, he marched right to your door, walking sideways so as to not accidentally glimpse at you. He turned the knob, and slammed the door shut behind him.

You can hear him break out into a sprint, carpet doing nothing to muffle the sounds, and dorm insulation being close to nonexistent. Another door opened and slammed shut, probably the bathroom. A few seconds later, you heard a distant, muffled screaming.

Yup. Big deal alright.

You couldn't help but laugh.

[rootedinrevisions]

Jealousy in Motion

SUMMARY: Tired of waiting for Damian and Rhea to make their moves, you and Jey decide to stir things up with a little game of jealousy. What starts as harmless flirting at a club quickly turns into a night of heated glances and rising tension.

WARNINGS: Teasing, Alcohol Use

WORD COUNT: 4.9k

OTHER PART(S): PART 2

TAG LIST: @miss-kuki-nz I @just-another-personal-side-blog I @caramara3 I @yana3sworld I @terrortwinunicorn I @hotwheels1108

The backstage area of the arena buzzed with the usual pre-show energy—wrestlers preparing for their matches, production staff rushing around, and the distant hum of the crowd filtering in through the walls. 

You found yourself leaning against a storage crate backstage, your eyes drifting to Damian as he finished lacing his boots. The sight of him—tall, imposing, tattoos snaking across his arms and shoulders and back to his back—always sent a thrill through you. He was magnetic, and you had been caught in his orbit for months now. But as you watched him, the ache of wanting more twisted in your chest.

"Ready for tonight?" you asked your voice light, hoping to catch his attention. 

Damian looked up, his expression as casual as ever. He offered a half-smirk, nodding. “Always am. You?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though your heart wasn’t in it. “Yeah, feeling good. Maybe I’ll catch your match later, see what you beat up Dom.”

He chuckled, that deep, resonant sound that always sent shivers down your spine. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to put on a show for you, then.”

It was the same banter you’d had a hundred times. Light, playful, but never deeper. You’d heard a few people backstage gossip about how Damian seemed to have eyes for you—how he was different when you were around. But standing here now, you weren’t so sure. If he did have feelings, he never showed it in a way that mattered.

You glanced around, checking to see if anyone was nearby. Then you stepped a little closer, just close enough that your arm brushed against his as you leaned in. “You know,” you started, your voice a little lower, “I’ve been thinking...”

He raised an eyebrow, his attention still on you but with the same calm, unreadable expression he always had. “About?”

You hesitated for a beat, trying to gauge his reaction before continuing. “About how...maybe we could hang out outside of work. You know, not just...the usual.”

There it was—your not-so-subtle hint. You felt the tension rise between you, hoping he’d finally catch on.

But Damian just chuckled again, brushing it off like it was nothing. “We hang out all the time,” he said, standing up and stretching his arms. “Just hung out with you last night, didn’t I?”

You swallowed the disappointment that settled in your stomach. Yeah, last night. When he’d snuck into your hotel room after his match, spent the night with you, and then slipped out before anyone could see. The same routine you’d been doing for three or four months. But it wasn’t enough anymore—not for you, anyway.

“Right,” you murmured, forcing a smile. “Just last night.”

You took a step back, crossing your arms as you tried to shake off the frustration that was building. Every time you hinted at the idea of something more, it was like he didn’t get it—or maybe he didn’t want to get it. And now you were starting to think that the rumors, all the whispers about him being into you, were just that: rumors.

It wasn’t that Damian wasn’t kind or caring—he was, in his own way. But you wanted more than secret rendezvous and stolen moments behind closed doors. You wanted to be his. His girlfriend. Not just the girl he came to when he needed to blow off steam.

“You know,” you started again, your voice quieter now, “sometimes I feel like I’m just your dirty little secret.”

Damian’s eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he quickly masked it with that same casual demeanor, shrugging it off like it didn’t matter. “Come on, don’t say that,” he said, offering you a grin. “You know it’s not like that.”

But you weren’t so sure anymore. You sighed, your shoulders slumping as you realized he wasn’t going to get it—not tonight, maybe not ever. “Right. It’s not like that.”

You turned away, trying to put some distance between you before the sting of rejection hit too hard. You were stuck in this endless cycle—always wanting more, always hoping he’d step up and make things real. But as the weeks that turned into months had dragged on, it was becoming painfully clear that maybe you were just the secret he kept from everyone else.

Damian stepped closer, his hand gently grazing your arm. “Hey, don’t get in your head about it. You know I care about you.”

You nodded, but the words didn’t hit the way you wanted them to. You knew he cared—but was it enough?

With one last glance at him, you gave a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

But deep down, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep pretending that was enough.

The low hum of chatter echoed through the hallway as you made your way backstage after your match. The adrenaline from the night still coursed through your veins, but it wasn’t the excitement of the crowd or the rush of getting another win that had you on edge. It was Damian. Or rather, the frustrating conversation from earlier in the evening that had been bugging you ever since.

As you turned the corner, you spotted your friend Jey Uso leaning against a crate, his eyes locked down the hall where Rhea Ripley was doing an interview with Cathy Kelly. A smirk tugged at your lips as you sauntered over, nudging him with your shoulder.

“Not gonna make your move?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Jey’s gaze didn’t leave Rhea, but he smiled, shaking his head. “Not sure she’s even noticed, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice light but tinged with frustration.

You laughed, crossing your arms as you leaned beside him. “Oh, she’s noticed, trust me.”

His eyebrow arched as he glanced your way, curious. “Yeah?”

You nodded, casting a glance down the hall at Rhea, who was still mid-interview. “We’re close. You don’t even know how many times I’ve had to listen to her talk about you in the last few weeks. Pretty sure she’s more interested than you think.”

Jey’s grin widened, but it quickly faded when his eyes flicked back to Rhea. There was something vulnerable in his expression, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe you or keep playing it safe. You could see why he’d hesitate; he and Rhea had been circling each other for a while now, both giving mixed signals but never making the first big move.

Just then, Rhea’s eyes darted in your direction, and for a split second, you caught the way her face changed. She’d seen you and Jey talking, standing close, and a flicker of something unmistakable flashed in her eyes—jealousy.

A slow grin spread across your face as an idea began to form. You nudged Jey again, leaning closer as you whispered, “She’s jealous.”

He blinked, his focus snapping to you. “What?”

You nodded, motioning subtly in Rhea’s direction. “She sees us talking. I know that look.”

Jey’s eyes shifted to Rhea, and when he saw the way she was glancing at the two of you between interview questions, his grin returned. “Damn, you think?”

“I know,” you said confidently, the idea cementing in your mind now. “You going out with some of the crew after the show?”

Jey smirked, standing up straighter. “You know I keep it lit on the dance floor, baby.”

You laughed at his swagger, but your mind was already spinning. This could work. This could solve both your problems. “I’ve got an idea,” you started, lowering your voice as your eyes flicked back to Rhea and then down the hall where Damian had just passed by, his attention elsewhere.

Jey tilted his head, intrigued. “What’s that?”

You leaned closer, a mischievous smile pulling at your lips. “We’re gonna make them jealous. You and me. A little flirting, some dancing, maybe getting a little too close for comfort. That’ll get their attention.”

Jey’s eyebrow shot up, his smile turning more playful. “You trying to stir the pot, huh?”

“I’m trying to get Damian to step up,” you said, sighing. “He’s been...distant. Or, I don’t know, maybe just not getting the hint. But I know him. He won’t like another guy getting close to me.”

Jey chuckled, crossing his arms as he considered your plan. “And Rhea? You think she’s gonna bite?”

“Oh, she will,” you assured him. “She’s already looking over here like she’s ready to step in. Trust me, once she sees you and me getting close, she’s not gonna let it slide. She’ll make her move.”

Jey thought it over for a moment, the gears turning in his head as he glanced back toward Rhea one last time. Then he smiled, that signature confident grin of his, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. If it gets her to stop playing games, I’m in.”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as your plan fell into place. “Good. Pick me up at 11. Room 4112.”

Jey nodded, flashing you a wink before turning to head off, but not before you gave him one last parting shot. “And make sure you bring your A-game, Uce. We’re gonna have some fun tonight.”

He laughed over his shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry. I always do.”

As he walked away, you glanced back toward Rhea, who was still watching. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. The game had just begun, and tonight, things were finally going to get interesting.

The night air was cool as you walked side by side with Damian toward the parking lot, your boots crunching softly against the asphalt. The energy from the show still buzzed around the arena, but out here, it was quieter. Just you and him, under the soft glow of the streetlights. You glanced up at him, taking in his relaxed demeanor, the way his hands rested casually in his pockets. It should’ve been a perfect moment. But your frustration still simmered beneath the surface, a constant reminder of the limbo you were stuck in with him.

“So…” Damian started, breaking the silence, his voice low and casual. “I heard a few of the guys are heading to some bar after the show.” He glanced over at you, his dark eyes searching yours. “You wanna go?”

You almost smirked, but you caught yourself. Of course, now he wanted to hang out. Now that you were making moves to get his attention. 

Instead, you played it off, pretending to be a little caught off guard as you reached for your keys. “Oh, uh… I’m actually already going with Jey.”

Damian stopped walking for just a second, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Jey? Like… Uso?”

You nodded with a smile, keeping your tone light. “Yeah. He asked me earlier if I wanted to go with him.”

Damian’s expression shifted, just for a moment, but it was enough. You caught the flicker in his eyes, something sharp and possessive flashing behind his otherwise calm exterior. Bingo. Your plan was already starting to work. But you didn’t want to push too hard too soon. You had to play this carefully.

“But maybe I’ll see you there, though?”

Damian’s jaw tightened just slightly, and he gave a small nod. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You could see the tension in his posture now, the way his jaw clenched briefly before relaxing again. This was what you had wanted—Damian’s attention. But now that you had it, there was something almost thrilling about making him stew just a little longer.

You turned to get into your rental car, turning to give him a final smile before you closed the door. “See you later, Damian.”

He nodded again, though his gaze lingered on you longer than it usually did. “Yeah. See you.”

As you pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the hotel, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. Damian’s reaction was exactly what you had hoped for. The flash of jealousy, the uncertainty. He wasn’t oblivious anymore.

Tonight was only going to get more interesting.

You hadn’t been on the road for more than a few minutes when your phone lit up with Rhea’s name. You smiled to yourself, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead. You had a feeling Damian had talked to Rhea and that was the reason for her call. Keeping one hand on the wheel, you tapped the screen to answer.

“Hey, Rhea. What’s up?”

“Hey,” she replied, her usual confident tone slightly off, a hint of something uncertain hiding underneath. “So, I heard a few of us are going out tonight after the show. You in?”

You bit your lip, holding back a grin. Here we go. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m going. Jey actually asked me to ride with him.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the way her brow furrowed in surprise. “Jey asked you?”

You made your voice sound casual, as if the question wasn’t loaded with the tension you knew she was feeling. “Yeah. He asked me before the show if I wanted to join him. Sounded fun, so I figured, why not?”

Rhea didn’t reply immediately, and you caught the slightest edge of jealousy creeping into her voice when she finally spoke again. “I thought you were just blowing Damian off when you said that.”

The corner of your mouth lifted as you kept your gaze on the road. “Nope, Jey actually asked me. I mean, Damian hadn’t said anything, and clubs aren’t always his thing. So I figured, why not go with someone else, right?”

You could hear her shift on the other end of the call, probably trying to find the right words to respond without giving herself away completely. “Right... I guess I just didn’t realize you two were, you know, hanging out outside of work like that.”

Your smile widened. She was trying to play it cool, but the jealousy was there, simmering just under the surface. Your plan was working, just like you hoped it would.

“Yeah, well, Jey’s seems fun to hang out with,” you said, keeping your tone as light and innocent as possible. “I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll see you there though?”

Rhea hesitated again, and you could hear the unspoken questions swirling in her head. “Yeah... maybe.”

You ended the call and couldn’t help but feel satisfied with how things were playing out. Damian’s possessiveness had already started to show, and now you had Rhea on edge too. The night was shaping up exactly how you planned, and it was only going to get better from here.

The thumping bass of the music hit you the moment you stepped into the club, the energy of the crowd buzzing in the air. You and Jey walked in together, fashionably late, just as you’d planned. You scanned the room, catching sight of Damian and Rhea almost immediately. They were at the bar, exactly where you hoped they’d be. Perfect.

Jey’s hand rested lightly on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd, both of you pretending not to notice the two people you were trying to get a rise out of. It was part of the plan, after all. You could feel eyes on you—probably Rhea’s, maybe even Damian’s—but you kept your focus on Jey, playing your part flawlessly.

As you reached the bar, Jey leaned in close, his voice low and playful against your ear. But also just loud enough for the two people standing next to you to hear him say it. “What you drinking tonight, baby?”

You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him as you smiled. “Hmm, I don’t know. What do you think I should start with?”

He chuckled, his arm draping casually over your shoulder as he signaled the bartender. “Let’s start with something light,” he suggested, glancing down at you with a grin. “I gotta keep you in good shape for the dance floor later.”

You grin at him and pretend to reach for your purse but he reaches out and stops you. “Nah, I got you tonight, baby.”

You laughed, nudging him slightly. “You really know how to take care of a girl, Jey. That’s sweet.”

The way you said it wasn’t lost on anyone. It wasn’t just a simple compliment, not with the way you let your fingers trail down his arm as you spoke, or the soft smile you gave him as you tilted your head just slightly, enough to let anyone watching see the ease between you two. You could feel the tension coming from behind Jey, the way Damian and Rhea were likely taking in every detail, even if they were trying to hide it.

Jey played along perfectly, his own smile widening as he leaned just a bit closer. “Sweet, huh? Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy, and let your hand rest on his chest, feeling the heat from his body through his shirt. “Maybe I am.”

As the bartender handed over your drinks, Jey slid one toward you, his fingers brushing yours. You could practically feel the weight of the stares coming from behind you, and it took everything in you not to glance back at Damian and Rhea. But you knew better than to break character now. The game had only just begun.

As you lifted your drink to your lips, you felt Jey's hand lightly graze your back again, the touch casual but deliberate enough to keep up appearances. The warmth of the alcohol mixed with the buzz of the club had you feeling confident, ready for whatever came next. You tilted your head, flashing Jey a smile before turning away from the bar, deciding it was time to up the ante.

With your drink in hand, you turned to leave the bar, making sure to brush close enough to Jey that it would look as if you were moving together. As you did, you caught sight of Damian and Rhea out of the corner of your eye.

Damian’s eyes were locked on you, his brow slightly furrowed, and you could see the way his jaw tightened as he watched you interact with Jey. It was subtle, but you knew Damian well enough to recognize the telltale signs of his possessiveness flaring up. You let your lips curl into a smirk, satisfaction blooming in your chest. The plan was working.

Rhea was standing next to him, drink in hand, but her expression was much less controlled. Her gaze flickered between you and Jey, and there was no mistaking the spark of jealousy in her eyes. Her lips were set in a thin line, her posture stiff as she watched you practically draped against Jey. You knew that look—she didn’t like it one bit.

You exchanged a knowing glance with Jey, and as he flashed you a grin, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

Turning back to Jey, he leaned in just a little closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “I think they’re starting to notice,” he whispered, the amusement in your tone unmistakable.

You chuckled, his hand resting on your hip as you reached up on your tip toes to reply. “Told you this was gonna be fun.”

You straightened, taking a slow sip of your drink before glancing back in Damian and Rhea’s direction, letting your gaze linger just long enough to make sure they saw. Damian’s dark eyes hadn’t left you, and Rhea’s fingers tightened around her glass as she muttered something under her breath to Damian.

Satisfied, you turned your attention back to Jey, the smirk still playing on your lips. “Looks like round one goes to us.”

Jey raised his glass in a silent toast, a mischievous grin lighting up his face. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the air was palpable now, the game in full swing. All you had to do was keep pushing the right buttons, and Damian and Rhea would break. And when they did, it was going to be so worth it.

After a few more rounds of playful banter at the bar, you felt Jey’s fingers gently brush against your arm, pulling your attention back to him. His smile was easy, mischievous, as if he had something up his sleeve.

“You know what we need to do now?” he asked, his eyes glinting.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. “What’s that?”

He straightened up, looking over toward the packed dance floor, where bodies swayed and pulsed to the heavy beat of the music. “We gotta hit the dance floor. I promised you I’d keep it lit, remember?”

You bit your lip, already anticipating what was about to happen. Glancing over to where Damian and Rhea were still standing, you noticed Damian’s eyes briefly flicker in your direction before shifting away, as if he were doing his best to act unaffected.

Perfect.

Jey reached out his hand, palm up in a silent invitation, and without hesitation, you slipped your hand into his. He gave it a slight tug, pulling you closer, and the two of you made your way through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor, where the music seemed to throb even louder.

As soon as you reached the middle, Jey spun you around with a playful grin and pulled you close. Your back pressed against his chest, and his hands naturally found their place on your hips, guiding you in time with the music. The moment you started moving together, everything else seemed to fall away—the lights, the noise, the crowd—it was just you and Jey, playing the game you both knew so well.

Jey leaned down, his voice low and teasing in your ear. “This okay for you?”

You nodded and then leaned your head back, resting it on Jey’s shoulder. There weren’t many guys on the roster you would let hold you and touch you the way Jey was. But you trusted Jey. You knew he wouldn’t push it too far. 

He then whispered into your ear, “They’re already watching. You ready for this?”

You laughed softly, your fingers resting over his hands as you started swaying together. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The two of you moved effortlessly in sync, your bodies shifting and swaying with the rhythm, close enough to leave little to the imagination for anyone watching. The heat from Jey’s hands on your waist and the feel of his body behind yours made it easy to slip into the role you needed to play, pretending to be lost in the moment, when in reality, your mind was focused on one thing—getting Damian’s attention.

Your hands glided up, grazing Jey’s forearms lightly as if you were completely comfortable with his touch. But in reality, you were simply waiting for the exact moment to strike.

With a subtle glance over your shoulder, your eyes scanned the room until they found Damian.

There he was—standing by the bar, his drink forgotten in his hand, his jaw clenched as he watched the two of you. Even from this distance, you could see the flash of frustration in his eyes, the way his posture had shifted from relaxed to tense. The possessive gleam that flickered there was unmistakable, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction through you. He wasn’t liking this at all.

Jey’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, his voice brushing your ear again, a knowing edge in his tone. “Think he’s mad yet?”

You smirked, your eyes never leaving Damian’s. “Oh, he’s definitely mad.”

As the music continued to pound, you took things up a notch. You pressed your body closer to Jey’s, your movements slowing down, becoming more deliberate, more intimate. Your hips swayed against his as his hands followed your lead, guiding your rhythm. 

You let your head rest back against his shoulder, your lips close to his ear as you murmured something irrelevant into his ear, loud enough for Damian to see but not hear. Jey chuckled, playing along perfectly, his lips grazing your ear as he responded, though you didn’t even need to hear the words to know you were in sync.

Finally, you couldn’t resist it any longer. You looked back across the room, and your eyes met Damian’s. His gaze was locked on yours, burning with a mix of jealousy and frustration that made your heart race. His body was tense, his grip on his drink so tight you were surprised the glass hadn’t shattered in his hand.

You smirked, letting him see just how much fun you were having, knowing that this was driving him wild. And it was working. The game you and Jey had started was finally beginning to pay off.

Damian wasn’t going to let this go much longer—you could feel it in the way his eyes bore into you, dark and heated. He was on the edge of stepping in, of making his move. And you were more than ready for it.

Jey must have sensed it too because his grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he whispered in your ear, “Any minute now.”

You nodded, your smirk widening. “He’s almost there.”

As the music pulsed around you, the tension between you and Damian crackled in the air like electricity. You could practically feel his frustration, his desire to intervene, and the satisfaction of knowing your plan was working filled you with excitement.

Before you realize it, Damian is weaving his way through the crowd, his eyes locked on you and Jey. The intensity in his gaze makes your heart race, knowing that this moment is exactly what you had been waiting for. Jey, clearly noticing Damian’s approach, doesn’t hesitate. He steps back just as Damian reaches you, offering a quick nod and a knowing smile.

"Mind if I cut in?" Damian asks, his voice low but commanding, half-expecting Jey to protest. But Jey just motions toward you with a grin, as if to say, “All yours.”

With Jey stepping aside, Damian wastes no time. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you back against his solid, muscular chest. His grip is firm, possessive, and the heat of his body seeps into you as he takes control of the moment. The atmosphere shifts, and it feels as though the entire room fades away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the pulsing crowd.

Damian leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. You shiver, the intimate gesture sending a thrill through you, but it’s what he says next that really makes your pulse quicken.

“You let him touch what’s mine,” he whispers, his voice laced with both frustration and desire.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to catch his dark gaze. Your heart skips a beat, but you won’t let him get away with that statement so easily. "I didn’t know I was yours," you tease, raising an eyebrow, the challenge clear in your voice. “I thought we had a casual arrangement.”

Damian smirks, that cocky, confident grin of his flashing as he pulls you even closer, so your bodies are flush against each other. His hands tighten on your waist, his fingers pressing possessively into your skin. "Oh, you’re mine," he says, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.

You’re about to respond when Damian moves faster than you expect. In one swift motion, he spins you around to face him, his eyes dark with intent. Before you can catch your breath, his lips crash against yours, the kiss deep and hungry. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a claim, a statement to everyone in the room, especially Jey, that you belong to him.

The kiss leaves you breathless, your mind spinning as Damian pulls back just slightly, his lips brushing against yours as he murmurs, "You're mine. My girl."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words echoing in your ears. His hands don’t leave your body, staying firmly on your hips as if to prove his point. His eyes search yours for any hesitation, but instead of pulling away, you feel a sense of relief, the very thing you’ve been wanting for so long finally falling into place.

In that moment, the game is over. You’re no longer just his secret—you're his, for everyone to see.

As Damian’s words sink in, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you glance over toward Jey. Just in time, you catch Rhea stepping up to him, her arms snaking confidently around his neck. A smirk spreads across Jey’s face, his hands naturally resting on her waist as if they’ve been in this position before.

You watch as Rhea leans in, her lips brushing against Jey's ear to whisper something. Whatever she says makes him smile, his expression softening in a way you hadn’t seen before. It's clear that Rhea’s walls are coming down, just like Damian's did with you.

For a fleeting second, Jey looks up and your eyes meet across the room. There's no need for words—just a shared glance, an unspoken acknowledgment of victory. The plan you hatched together has worked.

You smile knowingly, feeling the weight of success settle in. Damian's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you closer, his lips brushing the top of your head. Meanwhile, across the dance floor, Jey's hands slide up Rhea's waist as she moves even closer to him, their chemistry undeniable.

Everything has fallen into place.

[glitch-after-dark]

Ekidocksos i am in LOVE with your account!!!!!!

Just..Rodimus completely stuffed and bred with Drift & Ratchets sparklings from a drunken one night stand? He left before they woke up and dodges them for weeks on end not knowing they want so much more of him & his hot plush valve.

They get the drop on him when they find him rubbing his tanks & eating sweet energon mini cakes in his office.

They know right then he’s sparked & soon they have him bent over, stuffed with their spikes & trying to add a couple more for a clutch

I would have answered this sooner but I’ve been gardening so exhaustion prevented me from having the energy. I just found your account as well and SoundRod content is very exciting to see! I need to do more with them.

Anyway—this idea is brilliant. I love some Dratchrod angst+horniness+babies.

Just Rodimus hanging out with his best friend—they are officially Amica now, yeah drinks for everyone—celebrating the latest adventure on their Forever Adventure and well into giggling drunk that both Ratchet and Drift are as well. He’s been very cuddly grabby, draping himself over Drift—who is definitely over! He’s very supportive now—and instead of huffing Ratchet just tells him to shove over and when he’s moving too slow picks him up and sits under him making Rodimus half in Ratchet’s lap while still draped over Drift and Ratchet’s telling jokes and laughing at Rodimus and he’s lost track of whose hands are whose at some point. Then Dratchet kisses and Rodimus whines about not getting any so Drift kisses his cheek which Rodimus pouts and says isn’t the same so Ratchet huffs and grabs his chin to lay one on him that has him squirming especially when Drift is petting his spoiler and he’s panting when it breaks. Drift, of course, protests that Ratchet cheated and Drift was supposed to get the first move, making Ratchet laugh and before Rodimus can figure that out Drift is turning his head his direction and kissing him deeply. Rodimus is just a squirming mess not having to be moved and just moving back to the other with someone constantly petting him or grabbing his thighs or holding his waist until Swerve finally throws them out for “public indecency”.

Which gives Rodimus enough of a moment of fresh air to go oh wait what and start to think up an excuse to dip out only for the hands to come back and the three of them to stumble back to Dratchet’s room to resume the sandwich and kissing, which quickly escalates once they have Rodimus shoved in the bed between them. Rodimus catches bits of “wanted you here” and “thought we were going to take him to dinner first” teasing between the kissing and moving around each other and realizes what is going on. Drift and Ratchet are clearly wanting a threesome and intended to ask Rodimus who feels guilty how immediately into that he is for both of them and distracts himself by opening his own panel and mouth descending onto Ratchet’s hands to suck them in remembering how sensitive they are.

He is being passed back and forth between them and responding very eagerly, if a little clumsy which slowly peters out into more smooth movements when the overcharge fades through multiple overloads leaving him clear minded but unwilling to leave when Ratchet is holding his thighs thrusting up into him and Drift is petting him laying over his back, spike pressed against him waiting for his turn, telling him how pretty he looks taking his Conjunx’s spike and look how happy he’s making him and Ratchet is growling out and agreement that sends Rodimus toppling into  another overload that makes him bluescreen a bit only to wake to Ratchet kissing him sweetly, Rodimus sprawled out on his front, Drift slipping inside behind peppering kisses on his spoiler with Ratchet’s hands steadying Rodimus’s hips.

He's too tired to leave immediately when it finally finishes and they clean each other off, nuzzling and kissing, this time slow and sweet without the expectation of it leading to anything, and shove him in between to cuddle. He wakes up with Drift having shoved between him and Ratchet, wrapping around their arms and carefully manages to slip out painfully sober and aware of what he’s done and flees cold and horrified by how much it aches to leave them.

Rodimus is panicking because he thought—had lied to himself—he was over Drift and now not only is he wrong he’s developed a crush on Ratchet—reliable, stern, stubborn, kind, smart Ratchet—his Amica’s Conjunx. And he knows very well it is unrequited. Even if they are wanting to be adventurous and invite someone new to sleep with them, Rodimus is going to be devastated when they finally close their bed again.

One night he could laugh off as a drunken fun time, but he will not be able to disguise how clingy and emotional and needy he’ll be if they make it a frequent thing. That’s why Rodimus didn’t do multiple nights with people! He “misunderstands” and thinks more is going on than it actually is. He refused to inflict that on Dratchet.

He’d just gotten better at not shoving his way into Drift’s way and asking for things because Drift won’t tell him no! Ratchet finally tolerates him enough to not protest them being Amica—not that he’d said anything before but Rodimus knew he thought Drift could do better—which Rodimus agreed but was selfishly glad he hadn’t.

So he avoids them, helped by arranging the schedule and a few emergencies, always ready to offer an excuse even if it did make Drift look at him sadly and Ratchet look suspicious. And if he starts to feel weird afterwards, at first sick and tired, falling asleep in his office and achy, and then horny and starving and can’t stop eating sweets that’s his business. He has successfully managed to scrap their interactions down to the bare minimum which he will continue to do until he’s unrequited feelings fade, which would be a lot easier if they’d stop trying to corner him and Minimus and Megatron stopped judging him every time he made the schedule.

Rodimus’s sweet intake leads to his density increasing making him way more as protoform is building up and he doesn’t notice the difference, difference until he has the subtlest belly budging out just above his array. Ratchet finally pegs what is going on when he notices the anti-nausea, the glow, and the belly and way Rodimus’s hips are rounding out and chest is subtly swelling. He puts his foot down and he and Drift finally corner him by using privileges to be put on the graveyard shift with Rodimus.

Rodimus, who’d been getting gentle pep talks (Minimus) and just do it pep talks (Megatron), allows himself to be lead away. Accept apparently him carrying has gotten Ratchet and Drift very hot and bothered and instead of the conversation they are kissing him and pushing him over his desk to stuff him full and Rodimus is ready to go at a moment at this point, constantly horny, and is immediately distracted by this and also can’t get away and is sober enough to actually hear them saying they want him to stay and how thrilled they are to have a clutch and the phrasing is with the intention of a future together. After Drift, who has to be responsible because it turns out Ratchet’s breeding kink is making him thoroughly distracted pushing Rodimus against the nearest surface so he can cup his belly and fuck him, calls Megatron and Minimus to take over their shift.

Rodimus wakes up the next day to a grumbling Ratchet getting out of bed and kissing Drift goodbye and soothing him back to rest and then seeing Rodimus looking up at him sleepily kisses him and tells him to keep sleeping too. And Rodimus gets to, still not entirely sure what is going on, but the possessive grasp Drift makes on him when he rolls back over to sleep and Ratchet’s firm stay here with his own instincts finally relaxed and sleeping good from a night in between them helps.

They do eventually talk and work things out in between a lot of makeup sex and now Rodimus basically living it while getting bent over or crowded up against a wall to make sure he gets enough material to make their clutch. Drift is more slow and sweet about it taking his time and gentling Rodimus through it, savoring every moment, but Ratchet is rougher and very into the breeding aspect, prone to picking Rodimus up and shoving him against the wall or desk or bed (if they make it that far), and filling him up, fucking him until Rodimus’s is yowling, still carefully and hand always gently petting over Rodimus’s swelling tank. Ratchet is also the one who is now the most prone to spoiling Rodimus at the slightest pout. The carrier of the clutch deserves everything is Ratchet's stubborn response everytime he has a happy purring Rodimus pepper his face with kisses and Drift tease him about it.

Happy pregnant Dratchrod sex and babies for the win with Rodimus getting pampered.

[joedirtymadre]

The Tea 🫖

Senku x reader (smut) 🤫

(A/N): First post but I think it came out alright. Taking requests so send em.

I just finished helping Francois with preparing dough for some pastries that the villagers requested before we left on our voyage. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Suika shouted. “There’s something I wanted to give you!” She yelled as she ran up to me. “Ok, one second Suika. Let me finish helping Francois first,” I replied. “It’s alright (Y/N), you’ve helped more than enough. Take a break. I’ll have a cup of tea as well,” Francois smiled. “Alright then!” I smiled and cleaned my hands on a cloth. “Awesome! Now come on (Y/N). I made something and I wanted to give it to you,” Suika said and rolled off towards the forest. I quickly ran off in pursuit.

We reached a clear opening with beautiful flowers surrounding. “Oh wow Suika! It’s so beautiful here,” I said in astonishment. “Wait, wait, close your eyes,” she said and I quickly covered my eyes. I heard rummaging and I think Suika tripping?

“Ok, all done!” She said as she tried catching her breath. I uncovered my eyes and saw a little picnic set up. “Oh wow! Suika, you made a picnic?” I asked as I ran over to the little set up. It was a white fluffy blanket with leaf plates, sandwiches, pastries, and a lot of tea. “I set everything up myself, and Francois helped me with the food!” Suika smiled. “This is so cute, were you planning on having a party?” I asked. “Yeah, but everyone else said they were too busy preparing for the voyage… You were the only one that could come,” She said softly. “Oh Suika,” I said and hugged her. “Well looks like they’re missing out! Come on, all your hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” I smiled. “You’re right!” Suika said and sat down. We ate and played charades for a while. “Wow (Y/N) you really like that tea,” Suika said as I poured another cup. “I know this is my 5th cup, but it’s really tasty. What did you put in it?” I asked. “Well I collected the usual stuff we make for teas, but I found this new herb. Francois said that a little bit helps give people energy, so I tossed a whole bunch in that I found.” Suika explained. “I wanted to make everyone super strong so they could keep up with all the hard work they’re doing,” she said. “Suika you’re too precious,” I cried joyfully. “Anyways, in 10 more minutes let’s clean up and get back to work ok? I feel bad for leaving the rest of the work to Francois.” I explained. “Ok!” Suika nodded.

After cleaning up I walked back to Francois. “Man, I can't believe I had 3 more cups of tea,” I sighed. But I feel kinda weird, am I getting sick? “Hey (Y/N)! What are you doing slacking off? I thought you were helping Francois prepare food for the villagers before we left?” I heard Senku call out. I looked around and saw him walking back from his science lab. “I was, but Suika wanted to show me something and Francois said we should take a break. So I went off with Suika,” I said and began feeling my face heat up. “Ahh, she was trying to tell me something earlier, but I was busy with Chrome mixing some chemicals together,” he explained as he walked up to me. “Yeah, it… was a picnic… we had tea,” I panted. “(Y/N)? Hey are you-“ Senku stopped as I tripped over myself and caught me. I fell forward and he wrapped his arms around my lower back, his touch burning my body. “S-Senku! Ah~” I let out. “(Y-Y/N)? What’s going on? Are you sick?” He asked. “I don’t know… I was f-fine earlier. I started feeling… hot after hanging with Suika…” I mumbled and pressed myself harder against Senku. His touch feels so hot and good. “H-Hey calm down! L-Let’s get you to bed,” Senku said and helped me to his hut as it was nearby.

He laid me down softly on his bed. “I gotta go find Suika and ask what she gave you,” he frowned. “No, don’t go~” I said and held onto him. “I’m burning, I want your touch,” I said desperately. “I-I’ll be right back. I don’t want to find out you got poisoned, give me a minute!” He said and ran out. I hugged myself trying to calm my body down, what’s wrong with me?? I want Senku to come back, no I need him to come back. I want his touch, I want him.

Senku’s POV

“What the hell did Suika give her?” I asked myself as I ran around the village trying to find Suika. I looked over to Francois and Suika talking as they prepared the food. “Suika! Hey!” I called out as I ran over. “Oh, hi Sen-“ I interrupted her. “Suika! What did you give (Y/N)?” I yelled as I gripped on her shoulders. “W-What?” She squeaked. “Senku? What’s going on?” Francois asked and took my hands off Suika. “I don’t know, I found (Y/N) and she just came back from your picnic. Then all of a sudden she fainted and her body was burning,” I explained with urgency. “W-What? But she was fine I swear!” Suika cried. “I know, I know. But I need you to tell me what you gave her, maybe she was allergic to an ingredient?” I asked calmly. “No, that shouldn’t be an issue. I helped her prepare all the food,” Francois explained. “What about the tea? I heard (Y/N) mention tea,” I said. “Tea? Oh Suika made tea and-“ Francois stopped. “What?” I asked. “Suika… do you remember the herb you showed me?” Francois asked softly. “Yeah, you told me it gives you a lot of energy so I put a bunch in it! To help everyone have energy to keep up with their work,” Suika explained. “Oh my, and how many cups with (Y/N) have?” Francois asked. “I don’t know, maybe 8 or 9?” Suika said, confused. “I see… well don’t worry you didn’t poison (Y/N), Suika. Now can you check on the pastries in the oven with Yuzuriha?” Francois asked. “Umm… ok,” Suika walked away hesitantly.

“Francois, what's going on?” I asked. “Suika found a small panax ginseng,” she stated. “Panax ginseng, that shouldn’t be a big dea- (Y/N) drank 8 cups of panax ginseng tea, with a huge dose of the herb…” I said, disheveled. “Seems so,” Francois coughed awkwardly.

(Robot Senku here! Panax ginseng is known to have great benefits, like giving a person more energy. However, there is some evidence of people using it as an aphrodisiac. To improve sexual dysfunction and/or improve a female’s libido.) 😌

“Well I’m sure the brilliant scientist can figure this one out. I will be continuing the pastries now,” Francois walked away leaving me alone. “So (Y/N)’s high on an aphrodisiac? Great…” I sighed as I dragged myself back to my hut. “What do I do? Is there anything I could give her?” I thought as I stood outside. “Think-“ “Mmm~” I was quickly brought out of my thoughts. “Senku~~ Are you back yet?” Her voice so cunning. “Senku~ come inside~” she said so beckoning. I feel like I’m back at the sulphuric lake… I’m sure if I explain the situation she’ll understa- my mind quickly interrupted as I walked in and witnessed the scene in front of me.

Your POV

My mind is so fuzzy I can’t even think straight, but I know one thing. I wanna fuck, fuck Senku. I removed my clothing and began playing with my clit, trying to calm some of the heat that dwells inside me. I suddenly hear “What do I do? Is there anything I could give her?” Coming from outside the door. He’s here~~ I thought, and called out to him, stopping his train of thought. “Senku~ come inside~” I purred, beggin for him to take the bait. I see the door open and feel my heart beating out of my chest. This is all so exhilarating. The face Senku is making as he sees the sight of me, rubbing my wet pussy. My skin tinted red from whatever is happening to me. “Senku~” I smiled. He quickly ran in and shut the door. “(Y/N) y-you should know t-that-“ I interrupted him. “I don’t care,” I panted. I quickly sat up, startling Senku. “I only want one thing…” I purred and reached for the belt of his robe. “(Y-Y/N) you s-should-“ he gasped. “You’re right I should,” I smiled and quickly pulled on his belt, letting his robe come undone to a hard cock. “H-Hold on,” he said, panicking. “Please Senku? I just want to stop this fever, and this might stop it,” I begged. “I just w-want to know a-are you sure you want me? There’s R-Ryusui, he might be more e-experienced,” he stuttered. I shook my head, “I-I never done this b-before either. But I do w-want you, only y-you,” I blushed a darker red. “But if you don’t want to then I’ll try to go through this alone,” I said as I hugged myself. I heard something fall to the floor, looking up to Senku who’s fully disrobed. “So what were you gonna do again?” He said as he placed his cock in front of my face.

“Senku~ Slow down~ Too much!” I gasped as he fucked me. “What happened to all that confidence? Waiting for me to walk in to see you. This is your punishment for teasing me,” he smirked as he sped up. I wrapped my legs around him, and threw my arms around his neck. “Kiss me,” I gasped. “Whatever you want princess,” he chuckled and pulled me in for a deep and sloppy kiss. I moaned in between the kisses. “Senku, my body feels so hot!” I cried out. “Well let’s cool it off,” he smirked and I felt a finger brush against my clit. “Ah!” I cried. “Wait! Not that sp-!” I bit my lip. “What do you want (Y/N)? Tell me,” Senku grunted as he continued the pace. “I wanna…!” I flipped my head back. “Want to cum! Let me cum!” I cried. “That’s my good girl,” Senku smiled, and thrust one final time and let out a groan, while ecstasy flew through me so intensely. “Senku!” I gasped and fell back on the bed. “Fuck…” Senku panted and fell beside me. “Feel better?” He asked me. “Mm-hmm I don’t feel weird anymore. Thanks Senku,” I smiled softly. “No problem, I feel bad that you were out in this situation,” Senku said. “I don’t think it was all that bad,” I smiled. “Huh?” He asked, confused. “Well I got to fulfill my fantasies of being with the guy I like,” I said nervously. “Ah, well good for y- Oh.” Senku said. “Haha, yeah,” I giggled. “Well same goes for me I guess,” he shrugged and pulled me in for a hug. “Hmm… maybe I’ll have to ask Suika for that tea again,” I said. “Maybe not for a while, that was a lot of stamina I wasted,” Senku said with a pale face. “Ok,” I smiled, and he pulled me in for one last kiss before falling asleep.

[eardefenders]

Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 2 Transcript

00:00-00:30 Intro Music

00:27-00:34 *Sounds of a violin playing fade in*

00:34 Sherlock: You see? You see what I mean?

00:37 John: I…don’t.

00:39 Sherlock: Listen! *scoffs* Listen, closely this time. Shh. *resumes playing the bit from the fade in*

00:43 John: Argh. *pause* For God’s sake.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:46 John: Sherlock, please mate. We’ve got questions to get through here.

*Sherlock keeps playing*

00:52 John: Maaaate. Matey, mate mate mate mate.

00:55 Sherlock: Did you hear it this time?

00:57 John: Yeah. Sure. Uhh, right. So let’s dive into the discord chat. The brand spanking new discord for Sherlock and Co members. Brimming with Stamfords, Irregulars, and Diogene-sohmy God. There’s thousands of messages. Um, right. Should probably been keeping tabs on those questions. All right I’m going to scroll up and pick one f-from um the sssixteenth of January. Here we go! Come on down…IdleVice! Uh, your question is, “If you could make a Spotify playlist for each other of your own favorite songs, what would some of the highlights be and would you be willing to share the playlists with us. Ooh hoohoho. Uuuhhm. I don’t know if I’d ever get around to actually, y’know, putting the playlist together, as, as such, but what I-I would get Sherlock to listen to. Ummm mmmm probably Elbow? Elbow are a band from the north of England. Uh, Salford I think. But they have, uh, a few strings sort of. I-I don’t know what it’s called-but, elements that involve violins. Um, and all that jazz. Heh. Uh well not jazz! Uh, literally, not jazz. Uh, yeah, Sherlock, what about me?

02:07 Sherlock: Hm?

02:08 John: If you could make a playlist of songs for me what would it be?

02:12 Sherlock: I probably would never do that, Watson.

02:16 John: Okay. Uh, could you expand on that?

02:19 Sherlock: It’s a task that I wouldn’t find that fulfil-Vivaldi.

02:23 John: Uhh, right. Vivaldi. Yep. Anything else pop into mind?

02:29 Sherlock: Pop.

02:31 John: Pop? Is that-what’s that?

02:33 Sherlock: It’s a genre of music.

02:35 John: Uh, right, you’d make a pop playlist for me?

02:38 Sherlock: I’d probably enlist Mrs. Hudson to do that.

02:41 John: Fair enough. And why pop?

02:43 Sherlock: Because it’s an abbreviation for ‘popular music’.

02:45 John: No, I know that.

02:47 Sherlock: You like popular culture, therefore pop music could very well be your cup of green tea.

02:54 John: It’s, it’s just cup of tea. Bu-uh-uh, well, okay, uh, thank you for that. Uh, back to the discord dudes and dudettes. Um, not that I was implying any kind of masculine energy to the use of the word dudes. Dudes will remain, uh, um, an-an-an-androgynous here. My…dudes. Bit like the word mate! I do throw it around. Ummm. Some people just think it’s for blokes. Don’t know why. Uh, anyway. Here we go. Leaf-onk, layff, layfonk? I hope I’m saying that right. Uh, Leif-Leif*onk* asks, ‘Has Sherlock ever hit a vape?”

03:28 Sherlock: Yes.

03:29 John: Lovely. They’d also like to know the flavor.

03:31 Sherlock: Menthol.

03:32 John: D-do you want to expand?

03:35 Sherlock: Mm, not really.

03:37 John: Did you like it?

03:38 Sherlock: It was satisfactory, I suppose.

03:41 John: *sighs* Another thrilling q and a session with the master detective. Here we go! Number one archie fan-He-he-heeyyy! Archie! Found your number one fan mate. Heh. Think they also go by potpourri. Not sure. Don’t really know how discord works because I was born in 1989. Anyway! Number one Archie fan asks, do you have a favorite classical piece? Or a favorite composer, perhaps?

04:05 Sherlock: Mozart, generally. Can often be tied to my mood. What about Vivaldi? You said Vivaldi earlier?

04:12 Sherlock: That was a recommendation to you.

04:14 John: But not you?

04:14 Sherlock: Definitely not.

04:16 John: Great.

04:17 Sherlock: Uh, Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky. But I am often driven by whatever phase I feel I’m in.

04:23 John: And we’re in a Mozart phase now, are we?

04:26 Sherlock: We are indeed.

04:27 John: Fab. Right, uh, Reeonk asks-ohkay, ok, I see what you’re doing now. Cause of. Cause of Jonk. Okahaha. Let’s all laugh at Jonk-John, I mean.

04:40 Sherlock: *laughs*

04:41 John (affectionately): Oh, ge-Shut up, you big idiot.

04:44 Sherlock: *still laughing*

04:45 John (affectionately annoyed): Shut it. Ha. Uhhhh, we’ll cut that bit. I swear to God. Right! Reonk, who I think also goes by Perfo, if I click here. But yes, as I was saying, millennial at the wheel. Sorry. Reonk’s first question, “Hey John, if you were an animal, what animal would you be?” Uhhhum, *clicks tongue* look, I’ve got to be something airborne. Um, uh I’m sorry, but I have to. Y-y-you can’t have the chance to fly and turn it down, so, uh, I’m a bird.

05:09 Sherlock: Or a bug.

05:10 John: S-s-sorry?

05:11 Sherlock: Bugs. Insects. They’re airborne. Hm, as is some bacteria.

05:16 John: Great, yeah. Let me just decide between a gnat and a germ.

05:19 Sherlock: By all means. Take your time.

05:21 John: I’m being sarcastic. I’m not a bug and I’m not bloody…germs. I’m. *sighs* I mean it’s too much pressure being an eagle, isn’t it. Um, *clicks tongue three times* I don’t want to be something that’s crap at flying, like a swan or a goose or something. Shoutout to Heather, by the way. Ehhh, aw come on John, come on John. Um. Ooo! Tell you what. Now this is going to sound stupid, but if it was my brain in the animal-

05:47 Sherlock: Yes, this is going to sound stupid.

05:49 John: Shh-sh-shh. Yes, if it was me. In the animal. I’m going pigeon.

05:54 Sherlock: Pigeon?

05:55 John: Pigeon. Ehh? Right, listen, ok. I can still live in the city. I cou-I could even live in my room, really.

06:01 Sherlock: You absolutely cannot.

06:03 John: What? Why not?

06:04 Sherlock: I’m not flatsharing with a bloody pigeon, Watson.

06:06 John: It’s me.

06:07 Sherlock: Yes, in the body of a pigeon.

06:09 John: Listen, let me finish my point. I’m a pigeon. I’ve got my room. I can fly about London, y’know? See all the sites, dive bomb some tourists, do a little poo on the House of Commons. I could nick a bit of decent grub. Yeah, go on walks with Archie and Mariana in the park. And no one is the wiser. If I was an eagle or a, y’know, like an albatross, I couldn’t do that, could I? No? It’d be great flying across town, even take the tube. Saw a pigeon on the tube the other day.

06:39 Sherlock: Yes, you said. Twice.

06:41 John: I could look through people’s windows, you know go in their gardens, on their patios….That makes me sound creepy, doesn’t it? Ah, pigeon! *clears his throat* The answer is pigeon. Second question, “What kitchen appliance would you be?” *clicks tongue twice and sucks air in thorough his teeth* Hm. Not being a microwave. No way, don’t get cleaned enough and, uh, having curries and bloody pizzas blowing up inside me, geezus. Uh, fridge. Maybe. Mmm, but I’d see a lot of rotting food, wouldn’t I? Especially if people are away for a while. Probably go with something fun, y’know something where I come out of the pantry or the, y’know, the cupboard or whatever, and all the family go ‘yaayyy, heyhey here he is!’-Wafflemaker, I’d be a wafflemaker. Everyone loves waffles. No one’s getting board of me. I’m getting cleaned. Perfect. Pigeon and a wafflemaker. Ha! That’s not a bad name for our band, eh Sherlock?

07:32 Sherlock: We’re not making a band.

07:33 John: Yeahhh, it was a joke. Right! It’s biscuit time! Saren says ‘Question for Sherlock: What kind of biscuits are, in your opinion, the best?

07:42: *sound of someone walking away*

07:43 John: Uhh, what’re you doing?

07:44 Sherlock: Answering the question.

07:44 John: Well, that would involve sitting down and talking into the mic.

07:48 Sherlock *sound of papers*: Here.

07:49 John: This…is an essay….on biscuits.

07:52 Sherlock: Yes.

07:54 John: By you.

07:55 Sherlock: Yes.

07:56 John: Okay.

07:58 Sherlock: Well, read it. My findings are in there.

08:01 John: Whaaa…it’s thirty-nine pages long.

08:03 Sherlock: Indeed.

08:04 John: Thi-this is supposed to be a snappy question and answer segment. Y’know it’s supposed to be a patreon reward, not a bloody punishment. *sarcastically* ‘Aww thanks for giving six quid everybody, here’s an eleven hour lecture on biscuits.’

08:15 Sherlock: They asked the question.

08:16 John: Right, ok. So, uh, he was eating a lot of custard creams the other day. Um, for those of you who aren’t British, uh, a custard cream is, uh, a sort of sandwich structured biscuit, wouldn’t’cha say?

08:26 Sherlock: Correct. Yes. A sandwich in structure. Two light shortbread pieces acting as the bread. Often stamped with a Victorian inspired Baroque design. And the filling was once a buttercream, but now is a custard flavored cream based on vanilla custard. Not egg custard.

08:43 John: Right, yeah. It’s, it’s that. Um, they’re nice. They are nice. Very moreish. Um, Ellionk, or Ellie, I think, when they’re not ‘Onk’ified, want’s to know ‘Favorite Supermarket: Tesco or Sainsbury’s?’ Um, well, both have gone downhill in recent years, I have to say. So, I’m going to go for neither and say co-op. Yeah, cause every now and again you find a really really good one. But if I’m in fantasy land, it’s M&S Foods or Waitrose. *clicks tongue* Yeah. Uh, there’s a chemistry question here from Ranger Pip which I don’t even begin to understand, so I’m going to move on. Sorry, Ranger Pip.

09:18 John (cont.): Right, last one! ‘Question for possibly John or Sherlock, not sure, lol. What is the story behind the theme tune. Just have to say whoever composed it, the musicians need an award and a shoutout on the podcast.’ Uh, yeah, well it’s a great theme tune, isn’t it? It really is. It’s called ‘Mad Prodigy’. *clears his throat pointedly*

09:39 Sherlock: Why are you making that noise?

09:41 John: Ah well, just saying mate.

09:43 Sherlock: I’m not mad. Or a prodigy.

09:46 John: Hey, uh, I-I’m not saying anything. Um, yeah, it’s it’s by a guy called Jody Jenkins. Uhhh, the reason why I don’t release it like some people asked me to is because it’s owned by a royalty free site. Um, *clicks tongue* the reason why Jody Jenkins doesn’t release it, is the same reason. I-it’s owned by a royalty free site. Uh, that’s generally how they work. I-I pay a fee. Well. Goalhanger pay a fee, use the track, and it belongs too…yeah. Audio Network. Um, I think he’s fab, yeah. But as far as crediting him out loud on the podcast, um, some artists don’t want royalty free work assigned to them. Um, they just do it for a paycheck. Some do. I don’t know him obviously and of course, I-I could piss off the company that actually owns the audio if I just mention him and uh, not-

10:34: *phone vibrates*

10:36 John: Message from Mariana. ‘You’re waffling. These people are paying us their hard earned money.’ Right! Soundproofing in these old houses aren’t what they used to be, are they? Um, *clicks tongue* yeah that’s the reason songwise. Nothing for or against Jody Jenkins. I’m just playing it safe cause these things s-scare me. *chuckles* Corporations and blech, yeah. Uh, horrible stuff.

10:54: *phone vibrates*

10:55 John: Um, message from Mariana. Right, yeah, I’m gonna wrap this up. Uh, thanks for your questions my lovely friends, we’ll be back soon. And, now to play us out, the one and only, Sherlock Holmes.

11:08 Sherlock: What?

11:08 John: Play! Play a song!

11:10 Sherlock *pleased*: Oh. Excellent! Uh, okay. Here we go!

11:14: *violin playing starts up*

11:17 John: Bye bye guys!

11:32: *sherlock’s violin playing cuts into Mad Prodigy

11:32-12:02 *Mad Prodigy carries us out to the end*