#this is my first time doing something like this I hope it makes sense

[mayasaurusss]

hey how are you? could you write jinx x reader? something like jinx taking the reader's virginity. thanks ❤️🫰🏻

My favorite piltie

A/N: Hello! I am okay anon, thanks for asking! Just a bit sad that tomorrow Arcane will end😭.

I want to make it clear that I tried to do this before the next act drops, so I wrote it in two days and some things might not be very good, but I hope you will enojiy it nonetheless!!

Contains: female reader, detailed description of a wound, smut. All characters are 20+ years.

2,8 K/4 pages

When Jinx came knocking at your door tonight, you didn't think you'd end up in this position: her hands gripping at the skin of your chest and with her head buried in it.

The beginning of your night had kicked off with a strange twist when you heard a knock on your fifth floor appartment's window. You gulped down your fear and with a fast beating heart, looked past the window's glass to see a crouching figure with bright pink eyes staring at you. Any other occasion and you would have died on the spot, but you knew who she was. As soon as you opened the window, the figure let herself in, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of your room. "You are so nice letting me in, piltie" she said, and you don't miss the venom laced in the last word she spoke. "Your people aren't really known to be kind" her long fingers mess with the many little trinkets displayed on your shelves, checking their mechanisms and turning their gears.

"What do you want, Jinx?" you can feel a tingling sense of anger inside your skull at her continuous teasings.

You still remember the first time you had seen her, running from enforcers and covering her wounded shoulder.

You knew how ruthless they could be, especially since Miss Kirramman had taken control over the city. In a strange turn of events, you had found her curled up in one of Piltover's abandoned alleys and brought her with you to your home, taking care of her for the next few days until you found your window open and the blue haired criminal nowhere to be seen. During that time, you grew fond of her and were sad when she disappeared. Some weeks had passed and your life continued to flow normally, until she showed up at your door again. You were actually kind of amazed by the fact that she managed to sneak inside the appartment's building without being noticed, but after the third time, when someone called the enforcers on her, she had begun to climb on the building's exterior and knock at your window instead.

"Oh nothing, just wanted to pay a visit to my favorite piltie" she falls back on your bed, sizing you up from head to toe with that smirk of hers that makes your heart beat faster. "That's all?" the mattress dips under your weight as you sit next to her, always keeping your eyes on hers. "Mhmm, maybe" she fishes something from a bag -one you've just noticed- and shakes it: a small glass globe filled with water and fake flakes of snow. The tallest buildings of Piltover reflect the warm lights of your room, making the city of progress look ethereal under the glass. But it wasn't the shiny buildings or the snowflakes that got your attention, but a small name made with metal and gear parts glued to the bottom of the globe. "No way...is this a real Valdiani?!" the shock in your voice makes Jinx's heart flutter, something that she has never experienced before.

She lets out a proud snuff of air from her nose, pushing her chest outwards, "Consider it a gift for my fav- shit!" the sudden swear catches your attention and you look over to see Jinx doubled over. "Jinx! What is going on?!" It's faint, but you can see her hands wrapped tightly around her left side, traces of blood seeping from between her fingers. "Oh shit! Jinx what happened?" she lets out a breathless chuckle, her skin suddenly far paler than normally. "Hah, just some gift the bluebellies have given me" she sucks in a breath when you move her hands, biting a scream away. A deep wound runs along her side, pus forming where her skin had been pulled back from the slash, bleeding red on your covers. You run outside of your room and collect gauze, antiseptic, healing creme and a glass of water.

"Here, bite this" you hand her an old cloth, which she promptly places in between her teeth. "Ready?" she nods, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. The heat of your hand is the only thing that brings her comfort. She isn't ready though when you pour the liquid over her wound: it feels like billions of needles stinging and burning her flesh, making her want to vomit.

"There there, it's over..." you quickly dry her skin and massage the healing cream on her, finally finishing when you cover her stomach with the gauze. She releases a huff of relief, mindlessly tangling her fingers with yours. When the pain subsides, she realizes how close the two of you are. You on your knees, her panting and sweating, how close you are to her and how fast her heart is beating. It would take a second, just a second for her to reach for your lips and melt into you...

"Uh... I- uh, just-, what happened?" you try to not sound too shy but your voice gives your feelings away. "I..." Jinx's throat bobs and it seems that she'd rather curl herself up like a hedgehog than admitting whatever she did. "You know, the usual. Went on a walk, stormed a shop, stole some things, got the enforcers called on me and..." she gestures towards her side, "...this happened".

Jinx isn't clear with her words, but something about the blush on her skin hints at the fact that there may be something else underneath her facade. You might try at least, right? Reaching for the glass globe, you twirl it in your hands, watching the snowflakes fall on Piltover. "Jinx...did you get chased after stealing this?", she doesn't answer, but her shy silence is enough for you.

"Why? Why do this for me?" she pouts her lips before answering, still held back by some sort of pride. "W-what can I say? Anything for my favorite piltie...".

A heavy silence fills the room, of the kind that is difficult to bear.

You can't believe it. You just can't believe that she'd be so reckless, so stupid! It's difficult to bite your anger back, but you do so, and instead of crying or screaming or scolding her, like Jinx thought you were going to do, you just hug her tightly against your chest. Your grip is so strong against her that she feels like she'll choke on it.

But you are so warm in comparison to her body, so, so warm. For the first time in a while, after Silco's death, after Vi's betrayal, after everything went to shit, she feels like she can breathe. And so she does, inhaling your scent in between, tasting it on her tongue. When you pull back, Jinx's eyelids are heavy with want, her mouth slightly open and her skin red.

It takes a second for her lips to push against yours, for her hands to come up and grab your face and pull you down towards her. The kiss is surprisingly tender for it to be Jinx's: you expected teeth and tongue, not pecks and soft touches. The way she sighs and runs her hands on your chest has you keening for her. "Jinx..." a small line of spit connects your lips, and before you can say anything else, she wipes it off on your bottom lip and sighs, "You know what piltie? I think I deserve something too".

Blinking at her a couple of times, she groans at your naivety and continues while taking your cheeks in her hand. "It has been a hard day for me: running from enforcers, bleeding all the way here... I think I deserve a gift too".

And that's where you are now, naked from the waist up with Jinx on your lap, diligently taking what's hers. The way her tongue teases your nipple is something to die for. It seems all her softness has died with the kiss you shared before, now tugging and biting every part of you. You gasp as she bites your nipple, leaving the indents of her teeth on the delicate skin.

"If I knew I could see you all shy and fidgety-" she tugs your left nipple with her long fingers, smiling cruelly when tearing a gasp from you, "...I would have done this earlier". Her lips leave your right nipple, spit chilling the skin, before she teases both of them with the point of her fingernails, moving and tickling them.

Jinx lets out one of those cruel laughs of hers before diving right back on your nipple, giving it one last kiss and moving towards your stomach. She kisses and strokes every one of your scars, every mole or freckle, every inch of skin, until she comes across the hem of your pants. "N-No wait, Jinx..." you place your hand on her forehead, strands of blue hair falling in between your fingers. She halts immediatley at your discomforted voice, billions of little alarms going off in her head and an attentive yet scared look in her eyes. "What is it?".

"I... I have to tell you something" and with that, her heart beats faster and faster and that obnoxious voice inside her head speaks; 'You've hurt her' and 'Look at what you've done' and 'Did you really think she would genuinely like you?'. But your voice is stronger than theirs. "Hey? Is everything alright? We don't have to do this" in the meantime, your hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking at the pale skin. "Yeah I- I am okay. And I want to" her own fingers close in on you and she takes a moment to breathe. Your own warmth is one of the only things that can make her calm. When the voices blur away and only you and her are left, she opens her eyes again, your reflection sharp inside their pink. "What do you have to tell me?" now it was your time to take a breath, because knowing Jinx, she could have two reactions over your news: making fun of you or absolutely losing her shit. "I... I am a virgin".

She takes a moment to process the information and then lets out a wheezing laugh, making blood rise quickly to your face. "That's it?! I thought I accidentally hurt you or something!". The only thing you can do at this point is pout and look away offended. "Oh come on toots" her hands take a hold of your face before turning you to her, who is smiling softly and with tenderness. "I am just kidding. Don't be so moody. And besides..." she captures your lips, biting and licking and sucking until they darken, leaving a faint trace of blood where her teeth were, "...It's so fucking hot".

The descent to get to her prize is tedious and long, but Jinx can't help but want to savor each one of its steps. Her fingers finally hook on the hem of your pants and pull down, revealing your naked thighs to her; the only thing stopping her from claiming her prize is the fabric of your underwear. "Wait a second..." despite how cute you look to her, Jinx rolls her eyes at yet another one of your attempts to stop her. "What, toots? You don't want me to fuck you?" your eyes widen when she so bluntly says that, without an ounce of embarrassment on her face, but continue. "What?! N-no I want to....it's just that..." you eye Jinx's position on the floor. "The wound might be painful if you crouch... I don't want you to hurt yourself".

"So, what do you want me to do?". You look back between Jinx and the plush, comfortable bed, a lightbulb popping off on your head. "Lie on the bed", you say, making Jinx blink a few times before processing and understanding your intentions. "Ohh, I didn't take you for the kinky type, toots". She crawls over the bed, making sure to look as alluring as possible, then lies down with her head pressed on one of your pillows. "There. Do you like this more?" the way that she's so smug about it, with that stupid smirk of hers, makes you want to choke her to death.

"Shut the fuck up", you follow her, placing yourself on each side of her head, feeling her hands rise on your tighs to curl on the soft fabric she so wishes were to disappear. "Hmhm, alright" she eyes the patch of cloth that has begun to show a wet stain, images of what she is going to do to you already flashing in her mind. But this position prevents her from sliding them off without you having to move away from her, and she'd rather keep you and your pussy here. "You know, as much as I love how cute you look with these..." you only have a brief moment to see a malicious glint in her eyes, before she tears your underwear apart, leaving you naked in front of her "I'd much rather have you bare". "Jinx! I just told you to shut up!" it doesn't help that she doesn't mind you and whistles loudly, making you feel more and more embarrassed. "And I -shut up!-. And-and those were expensive! Do you know how-!" but all your words die in your throat when she, with a strength you didn't know she had, pulls you flat against her mouth.

She licks your clit like a starved woman, like it will be the last meal she'll ever have. She doesn't dive right in your pussy, instead takes her sweet time to torture you, making you wish she'd just fuck you already. "Jinx...please, I-" she opens her eyes to see you above her, naked and panting with pleasure, something she only ever dreamt of seeing.

She can't say no to her favorite piltie. Her cold hands grab your ass, propping you up in a new angle on her face so you can't move, but she can do everything she wants to. She spends the next minutes milking your pleasure out of you, before pushing one finger slowly inside of you. You gasp in pain at first, a small trickle of blood wetting your skin and her fingers, and after a few minutes, feeling need arise from the depths of your guts. Jinx's eyes widen when she first feels you move atop her fingers, riding them messily; and she already has a new idea. "No, none of that toots" with her left hand, she yanks your hips down on her fingers, preventing you from moving further. Her next words feel like ice cold water on naked skin; "I won't make you cum if you do it again" and as if that wasn't bad enough, she emphasizes her point with a trust of her fingers. "You will be a good girl, won't you?".

"Yes, yes, yes I will be a good girl..." her smile is all you see before she disappears underneath your thighs. As soon as you get used to the alien feeling of her fingers inside of you, her pace is unrelenting; fast and hard, torturing your clit with her lips. She takes your hips and places your slit directly onto her tongue, forcing you to grind down on it. When you start to wheeze from her touches, she decides to move onto the next phase of her plan. "Hey baby, get up a sec" you would rather keep on grinding on her tongue, but comply anyway. You get up, putting ditance between your slit and her mouth, but while you do, she directly shoves in her fingers, making your legs almost give out. With her other hand she pushes you until your ass is flat against her lap. "Come on, bounce" you don't let her repeat herself twice, already fucking yourself on her fingers at the best of your abilities. What she's seeing is far better than anything she could have ever dreamt of: her favorite piltie bouncing up and down her fingers, eyes heavy and panting above her. And your movements on her own crotch only make her feel more and more euphoric. Oh, if only she could feel you... When she curls her finger on that spot that has you keening, you finally come undone; finger intertwined, billions of stars exploding beneath your eyelids and electricity coursing through your veins. You collapse on her, skin against skin, puffing and gasping for each breath. Your whines reach Jinx's ears and right now, she wants nothing more than to tear orgasms upon orgasms from you, but she'll have to wait.

You roll over, taking a place near her on the bed, shivering from the intensity of your first time. And when Jinx, with a horrifyingly both sweet and sadistic smile turns to you, excitement clear on her face, your pussy clenches around nothing and your blood turns to ice. "So, wanna go again?"

[half-oz-eddie]

Sorry I missed you (on purpose)

Buck knew Tommy's schedules and habits, and he knew exactly when Tommy wasn't home.

Tommy's schedule fluctuated from week to week, so how did Buck know this? Well, Buck started anti-stalking Tommy, which is...still stalking, but he was only doing it to avoid running into Tommy. It doesn't make sense. To you, to anybody, but it makes sense to Buck, and Buck's gonna Buck, right?

Tommy liked to keep the porch light on because he fed a neighborhood cat whenever he was home, and he wanted the cat to know it was safe to come on his porch and have a bite to eat. Tommy was just good like this.

It's so hard not to love him.

Monday. Porch light on. Tuesday. Porch light off. Wednesday. Porch light on, and the curtain was open. Buck's heart raced when he saw Tommy walk past the window. What was he doing? Was he alone? Buck didn't intend to stick around too long and find out, so he drove off.

Thursday. Porch light off. Perfect. Buck left a post-it note on Tommy's front door.

"Wanted to drop some things of yours, but you weren't home and I didn't want to leave them on the porch. Feel free to call or drop by anytime! -Buck"

There. Simple enough. Now Buck just had to get the hell out of there before Tommy returned.

Two days passed and Tommy hadn't called, texted or stopped by. Why?

Did the post it note blow away? Did the cat eat it? Maybe he should've reinforced the post-it with some tape or something.

Or maybe...Tommy didn't want to talk to him at all. Maybe he just hated him.

Buck carried that thought to bed.

The next day after Buck's shift, he returned home to find a post-it on his door.

"Sorry I missed you. I have some of your things as well. You can drop mine off and pick up yours this week. Or I can stop by. Your choice. -Tommy"

Buck read the note over and over again. He could hear Tommy's voice in his head with every syllable his eyes scanned on the note. It even had the lingering smell of Tommy's cologne.

Buck stuck it to his fridge.

He missed talking to him.

The next day after his shift, Buck drove past Tommy's house. Porch light on.

Buck kept driving.

The day after, Buck returned to Tommy's again. Porch light off. This was his moment.

"Sorry I missed you again. I just can't seem to remember your schedule. Stop by whenever you can."

He stuck the post-it to the door, but he was unsatisfied, so he pulled out a second post-it.

PS: hope you're taking care of that knee that was bothering you a few weeks ago. You never took that compression sleeve. Should I bring it? -Buck"

It was a little ridiculous, sure, but Buck was talking to Tommy again. Sort of, and it was great.

Buck stopped baking as often, and everyone at the firehouse thought he was making some sort of progress. He told them he was. He just didn't explain the sort of progress he was making.

When he returned home from his shift 3 days later, there were 3 post-its on his door and his eyes lit up with excitement.

"We've gotta stop (not) meeting like this. I can't seem to remember your schedule either. I'm sure we'll sort this out soon." Buck smiled as he grabbed the first post it, before reading the second.

"My knee's better, but I'd still like that compression sleeve. Do you think you could drop it off with my stuff? Or I'll pick it up." Buck smiled wider. He was glad to know Tommy's knee wasn't bothering him as much anymore, but he was happy to know he still wanted his help.

"Let me know what works for you. PS: Is that wrist still bothering you? I hope it's all healed up now. -Tommy"

Buck stuck the post-its to his fridge and smiled to himself. He was almost convinced they'd talked via post-its enough to talk via text, but he didn't feel like it was the right time yet.

He continued anti-stalking Tommy for days, waiting for the day his porch light wasn't on. It had been 4 days since the porch light was off.

Finally. He hoped Tommy wasn't too worried. Then again, he probably wasn't worried at all, Buck assumed.

"Sorry again. I just have a lot of things keeping me busy so I stop by whenever I get the chance. I'm going to try again until we get this right." Buck stuck the first note to the door.

"PS: my wrist is fine now, thanks for asking. I've been putting it to use a lot lately because I'm baking so much."

Buck stuck the second note to the door, but wanted to leave three post-its like Tommy did, just to seem equally as invested in this post-it tag.

"PPS: I almost tripped over the bowl by your front door. Are you still feeding that cat? -Buck"

Buck stuck the final note to the door feeling satisfied. He even laughed to himself when he realized he stuck them to the door in the shape of a heart with the first two on top, and the third beneath.

Tommy probably wouldn't even notice.

When a week passed and Buck hadn't seen a single post-it on his door, he was beginning to worry that Tommy grew tired of their game of tag.

The next day, there was one, single post-it on his door.

"I think maybe I should text you."

Buck's heart was beating out of his chest. Was Tommy going to text him finally?

When? What time? What day? Today? Please be today, Buck hoped.

Buck was back to checking his phone for the next few hours. He started baking again to pass the time so he'd stop obsessing over his phone.

When he heard his phone ding, he nearly jumped across the counter for it.

Buck and Tommy continued to occasionally text for a week. Occasionally became frequently, and frequently became constantly, until they were talking again about any and everything that crossed their minds.

When Tommy addressed them finally meeting in person to exchange their belongings, Buck dreaded the thought. He was convinced that exchanging their belongings would end their text exchanges, so he blew Tommy off several times with various excuses about why he was too busy to meet.

Tommy was willing to wait and continue to text Buck, until one day, the texting turned into a phone call.

"Are you avoiding me on purpose?" Tommy asked.

"I-uh-no-I-I'm not. I'm not avoiding you. Not...intentionally." Buck stammered.

Tommy laughed on the other end of the phone. "Evan." There was that teasing voice Buck so dearly missed.

"Okay, okay. Maybe I am. I wasn't ready to do this face-to-face, in case this was going to be the last time we ever saw each other. So first, I dragged it out with the post-its..."

"I knew I saw your car that night! I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe...I dunno, wishful thinking."

Buck listened to the momentary silence and the soft sigh on the other end of the phone.

"The notes were cute, though. I...liked them. I suppose I was avoiding you too. Just to keep this going for a little bit longer."

"Really?" Buck smiled. "Y-you were? I didn't think you even wanted to talk to me anymore—"

"Are you kidding? Of course I do. I just...I know we broke up so suddenly. I...thought maybe we wouldn't work out. I guess it all felt too real and I...ran. I've done nothing but act cowardly since that night."

"I don't think you're a coward, Tommy. I didn't mean to scare you off. If you don't think I'm ready, I can promise you that you're wrong. Since the moment you left, I haven't stopped thinking about you. The baking was just to keep me from reaching out to you so I could give you space."

"I hate space. I hate avoiding you. I miss you, Evan. So much."

"I miss you too."

There was another silence while they each gathered their thoughts.

"Do you uh...do you still want your stuff back?" Buck worriedly asked.

"The only thing I left at your apartment that I want back is you."

Buck smiled so wide, his cheeks were aching. "You mean it?"

"Of course. When are you free?"

"For you? Whenever your porch light is on." Buck answered, getting a lighthearted laugh out of Tommy.

"Well...they're on right now."

"Yeah? I'll be right there."

Leave me kudos <3

[obeymestory]

I don't know if you do these, but could you make a scenario of the demon brothers taking care of MC while they're pregnant with their kid?

Of course!! I was kinda waiting for someone to ask me to do one of those things. <3

Warning!!: Slight mature mentions!! Hope you enjoy this though my dear lambs.

✒ Lucifer 🖋

Would be shocked at the first mention of you being pregnant, asking you to take a test to confirm the pregnancy if you hadn't already, then putting his hand on your belly and feeling a huge sense of admiration towards you for carrying his child, as well as a huge sense of responsibility.

Would do his best to make sure you're always comfortable.

Would help you downstairs even when you're just a few weeks along.

Would probably have you near his desk on something comfortable while he does his paperwork so he could be there immediately if your water were to break.

Would think your food cravings were strange but would fetch the food for you immediately.

Always pick things up for you, even if you just dropped something.

Probably be more stressed in the delivery room than you were because of him wanting everything to go smoothly, and because he's worried about you and your guys' baby. "What's taking the doctor so long?" (Referring to the doctor being late, you're the highest priority to him.)

Have Barbatos make you tea every night to help you relax, especially when you start having contractions.

Would rest his hand gently on your belly while you're napping near him, happy to be the father of a new soul.

Probably wouldn't have coitus with you until he knew it was alright, and even then he would make sure to be gentle, resting his hand on your belly while he pleased you, mainly only focusing on your satisfaction.

Be more focused on you to the point where Diavolo or his brothers would have to do some of his paperwork while he took care of you.

When the baby kicks he immediately rests his head gently on your belly, having a small smile on his face as he remembered that he helped make such a lovely being. "I can't wait to meet you."

💰 Mammon 💸

Would think that you were messing with him at first upon telling him about your pregnancy with his child.

Always wanting you not to be too active and to constantly be comfortable.

Would instantly fetch your cravings and not question them.

Would rest his hand on your belly and rub it every now and then when you both were spending quality time together, especially when watching movies.

Would talk to your belly like the baby was able to listen, mostly complaining about how the baby was making you feel during pregnancy. "Why ya' always gotta make yer' mommy throw up, huh? She's doing all this work for ya', so ya' better be a good kid when ya' come out."

Would freak out as soon as you said your water broke, rushing to get you the care and doctors you needed.

Would probably try stacking poker chips on your belly, considering it both quality time for you and your guys' baby.

Would worry about you during contractions, pouting the whole time and asking if he could do something to ease the pain.

If you were to suggest coitus to him, he would accept immediately, then process what you said and ask if it's okay to do while you're pregnant. He'd be rough or gentle for you as long as you and the baby were safe. "Yes! ...Wait- is dat' okay for us to do?"

Would constantly ask if you were okay, and if you weren't he'd comfort you to the best of his abilities.

When having hot and cold flashes he'd probably fan you with a wad of cash or wrap his arms around you to warm you up.

🪼 Leviathan 🍡

Would think that you're pranking him at first as you said that you were pregnant with his baby, then once you confirmed that it wasn't a prank he'd tear up and hug you happily. "Not funny Y/N... you shouldn't joke like that... w-wait... r-really? I'm gonna be a daddy? *sniffles happily*"

Would cuddle you constantly and hum anime intros as he rubbed your belly, picturing showing your guys' baby a bunch of anime as soon as they were born.

If you were to suggest coitus he would be extremely hesitant to agree, and he would only finger you or eat you out.

Would turn on your favorite anime while you were having mood swings.

Would not know what you meant when you said; "my water broke" and would gasp and instantly call out for his brothers to help you as he made you all comfortable. "Hmm..? Your water broke? What does that mean? O-oh... OH!! The baby's coming!! GUYS- THE BABY'S COMING!!!!-"

Would caress your belly as you had contractions, giving you a worried expression.

Would probably suggest names for the baby first, and the names would be based on anime characters you like, not what characters he liked, what characters YOU like.

Would let you play video games when you had more severe mood swings, like extreme anger.

If it came to it, he wouldn't be mad if you ended up accidentally throwing up in his tub-like bed, he'd clean it up and start putting a little trash bag near you so it wouldn't happen again.

Would buy you a whole new bed so you weren't uncomfortable laying in his tub-like bed.

Would gasp as he saw the baby kick, asking if that hurt you or made you uncomfortable.

📚 Satan 🐈‍⬛

Would blink as you told him you were pregnant with his child, he would promptly close his book and blush deeply, still taking a full minute to process what you just said then get up and pull you into a tight yet careful hug. "You have no idea how happy I am."

Would read a bunch of books on human pregnancy, wanting to know how to take care of you during the next nine months.

Would have a good idea on how parenting goes, but would still check out a bunch of books from the library about parenting just in case there was something he didn't know.

Would read you a bedtime story every night, keeping one of his hands on your belly as he read from his book.

If you were to suggest coitus he would agree, having learned that it's beneficial during childbirth, and wanting to satisfy your needs as much as possible, being gentle and sensual the entire time.

Would pick everything up that you were to drop, hold the door open for you, and help you down the stairs without hesitation.

Would suggest healthier foods if you were to ask him to go get certain things you were craving, but would abide by your wishes.

Would already be prepared for you to throw up, keeping a trashcan nearby you at all times.

Would make sure you're laying on your left side whenever you would take a nap or go to bed.

Would put both of his hands on your belly as the baby kicked, being extremely happy, especially if the baby would constantly move, knowing that it meant the baby was healthy. He did feel bad that you were uncomfortable every time the baby moved though.

Would have you in the royal medical room as you reached your last month of pregnancy, wanting to be entirely prepared, and remaining beside you no matter what, even if you were to say that you were fine and he could go do his usual things. "No. I'm not leaving you both whatsoever."

Since he was a straight A student he could just skip school to take care of you.

💄 Asmodeus 💅

Would gasp and widen his eyes, covering his mouth at the revelation of your pregnancy, squeaking happily and kissing you lovingly, immediately suggesting name planning. "Oh my goodness!! We need to start thinking of names!!~"

Would agree to coitus, but would be gentle, he'd also do it as many times as you wanted.

Would massage you every night, especially your breasts since he knew they were producing milk and were gonna be sore soon.

Would wash you in the bath and take care of all your self care needs.

Would hold your hair back carefully as you threw up.

Would shower you with compliments, especially when your belly starts growing in, knowing you might be insecure about yourself due to your body changing but saying that he loved you no matter what. "Oh hon. You're gorgeous... especially your skin. It's so radiant and youthful, I'm so jealous~"

Would whisper sweet nothings and comfort you as you cried or had mood swings.

Would design a HUGE baby shower for you both.

Would paint his and your nails to the color the gender was revealed to be.

Would record a video of the baby kicking, happy tears welling up in his eyes as he replayed the video over and over, asking for your permission to post it on Devilgram.

Would kiss all over your belly and murmur a soft "I love you~" to your belly every night before murmuring the same thing in your ear.

Would help you to the hospital gently and carefully, holding your hand all through labor and giving you little whispers of encouragement the entire time.

💪 Beelzebub 🍔

Would take a whole six minutes to process you telling him that he made you pregnant. "Wait-....Really? We're having a baby?"

Would carry you everywhere and anywhere, no questions asked. The bathroom, downstairs, the kitchen, the delivery room, etc!! (He'd even wake up to help you to the bathroom.)

Would not mind your food cravings, but he's making you eat a bunch of healthy stuff afterwards if your food craving wasn't healthy.

Would watch your belly with sparkles in his eyes as the baby kicked, putting both of his hands on your belly. (It's like that gaze he gives whenever he sees food.)

Would love to go out and buy baby stuff with you, especially baby clothes.

Would place a piece of his meal on your belly, calling it; "Feeding the baby."

If you were to ask to have coitus during your pregnancy, he'd put his hand on your belly and get worried about the baby, needing you to tell him it was good for the baby beforehand, and he'd do it rough or gentle for you, just as long as the baby was okay.

Would pick up everything for you, carrying everything you were attempting to carry, and holding the door open for you if you did convince him that you were okay to walk instead of being carried everywhere by him

Would let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed during labor, staying beside you no matter what and giving you encouragement just after the doctors do.

Would probably give you hot or cold food when you were having hot or cold flashes. He'd give you cold food when you were hot, then hot food when you were cold.

Would immediately learn to start carrying a vomit bag around for you just in case, rubbing your back as you threw up.

Would get scared at first once your mood swings started happening, feeling guilty until you or one of his brothers reassured him that it was part of pregnancy.

🌌 Belphegor 💤

Would gasp as soon as you said you were pregnant, diving down and resting his head on your belly for a while, nuzzling against your skin and having a dorky lazy smile on his face, knowing you were carrying his baby.

Would definitely join you for naps, offering to massage your chest before he used them as pillows.

Would definitely use your belly as a pillow at one point, listening for movement with his ear pressed against your skin.

Would definitely help you make a nursery, "testing" the baby's bed to make sure the baby would be comfortable. "Hmm? Oh. I'm making sure the bed is okay for our baby. Would you like to join me?"

Will always make sure you're comfortable and laying on your left side when sleeping.

If you were to suggest coitus he would do it very gently, knowing that you were more sensitive now and treating you very delicately.

Would hum or sing soft lullabies to you and the baby to help you fall asleep.

Would probably become more clingy during this time, helping you everywhere and caressing your belly whenever he had the chance.

Wouldn't mind your mood swings, offering his body pillow to punch if you ever got angry to the point where you needed to blow off some steam.

During labor he'd ask Beel to help carry you as he comforted you all the way to the delivery room, caressing your hand as you squeezed his hand for dear life.

Would probably suggest some constellation related names. "Maybe Cygnus? For a boy. Or... Andromeda? For a girl?"

(Hope you enjoyed this!! My ask box is still open, so feel free to ask or send anything!!~)

[littlelamy]

I got some thoughts spinning from seeing how Drew looks as Eugene in Queer with glasses and all. So Soft Nerdy Rafe request?  Very golden retriever-y, a bit shy and sweet. Maybe they are making out for the first time and….sweet nerdy rafe….switches up….not so shy. Ahhh it’s such a weakness when shy boys just become so forward, manly and give into their desires 💘🥹

a/n: AHHHHH! im so happy that you requested a nerd!rafe!!!!! i hope you like it ⭐️

the library was quiet, the faint hum of fluorescent lights blending into the soft rustle of pages and distant murmurs. rafe cameron sat across from you, his glasses sliding down his nose as he frowned at the notebook in front of him. he was chewing on the edge of his thumb, a nervous habit you’d grown fond of, though it made you wonder if he realized how obvious he was being.

“you’re gonna wear your skin raw if you keep doing that,” you teased, nudging his foot under the table.

he looked up, startled, like you’d caught him mid-crime. “oh. right. sorry.” he dropped his hand, fiddling with his pen instead. “i’m just—this doesn’t make sense. none of it makes sense. why is calculus even a thing?”

you smiled, leaning forward to peek at his notes. his handwriting was neat, but his equations were a jumbled mess, arrows pointing in all directions. “you’re overthinking it,” you said, your voice soft. “here, look. you just forgot to carry the one.”

rafe groaned, his head falling onto the table with a dramatic thud. “i’m hopeless.”

“you’re not hopeless.”

“i am. you should just give up on me now.” his words were muffled by the wood, but you could still hear the pout in his voice.

“rafe.”

he peeked up at you, his cheek smushed against the table. “what?”

“you’re adorable when you’re dramatic, but you’re not hopeless.”

his face flushed a deep red, and he sat up quickly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “i’m not adorable,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“you are,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “but if you really want to prove me wrong, maybe stop staring at my lips and focus on your math.”

his eyes went wide, his ears turning pink. “i wasn’t—I wasn’t staring at your lips!”

“you were,” you said, smirking. “it’s okay, though. i don’t mind.”

he opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “you don’t?”

“nope.”

the air between you shifted, the tension palpable now. rafe’s gaze flicked to your lips again, this time more deliberate, and his hands fidgeted with the hem of his sweater.

“you know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you could just kiss me instead of acting like you’re solving a physics problem.”

his jaw dropped, and for a second, you thought he might actually combust. “i—i could?”

you laughed softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. “come here, rafe.”

he stood slowly, his movements awkward and unsure, like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. when he rounded the table and slid onto the bench beside you, his knee bumped yours, and he froze, looking at you with wide, anxious eyes.

“is this… okay?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“more than okay,” you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

he hesitated for a moment longer, then leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most tentative kiss you’d ever experienced. his hands hovered near your waist, not quite touching, like he wasn’t sure where they belonged.

you deepened the kiss, your hand moving to his cheek, and he made a small, needy sound that sent a shiver down your spine. slowly, his hands settled on your hips, his grip uncertain at first but growing firmer as the kiss went on.

his lips were warm and slightly chapped, moving against yours in a rhythm that was both clumsy and endearing. but as the moments stretched, something shifted.

rafe pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling as he looked at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and hunger. “is this… is this okay?” he asked again, his voice trembling.

“yes, rafe,” you whispered, your fingers threading through his hair.

that seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. when he kissed you again, it wasn’t tentative or shy—it was bold, almost desperate. his hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing the edges of your ribs, and his body pressed closer to yours, eliminating the small space that had existed between you.

you gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound, his confidence growing with each passing second. his glasses slipped down his nose again, but he didn’t seem to care, too focused on the way your lips moved against his.

“you’re so… perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his voice low and husky now, a far cry from the nervous stammering he’d started with.

your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips. “you’re not so shy anymore.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his glasses crooked and his lips kiss-swollen. “guess you bring it out of me,” he said, a crooked grin spreading across his face.

“oh, so now you’re cocky?”

“maybe a little.” his grin widened, and he leaned in again, his lips finding yours with renewed fervor.

the kiss grew hungrier, his hands exploring more boldly now. one slid up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, while the other found the small of your back, pulling you flush against him.

you let out a soft moan, and he responded with a low groan that vibrated against your lips. it was like a switch had flipped—gone was the shy, bumbling rafe, replaced by someone who knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, asking for permission, and when you parted them, he deepened the kiss with a confidence that made your head spin.

“God,” he muttered, his voice breathless. “you’re incredible.”

you were too dazed to respond, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

time seemed to blur, the world outside the library fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your palm.

when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, his glasses fogged up, and his sweater slightly askew. “sorry,” he said, though the satisfied grin on his face suggested he wasn’t sorry at all.

“for what?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“for not doing that sooner.”

you laughed, pulling him in for another kiss. “you’re such a dork.”

“your dork,” he murmured against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “mine.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[mrsmnsn]

“It looks better on you anyway…”

summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….

*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*

(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)

“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin

“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.

“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.

The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.

“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you

“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you

“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you

“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.

By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.

“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.

“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”

You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.

“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter

“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”

Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.

“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.

“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.

“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.

“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”

You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.

“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”

You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.

“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.

“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!

You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”

“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.

“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”

You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.

“Maybe…”

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[loganhowlettshousewife]

animal

chapter 6

friendly reminder that i am not a writer, i'm just a girl who loves logan howlett and wanted to write something exploring his animalistic side since i so rarely see it done. my first language is also not english, so please do not be rude when giving me any feedback.

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (fem!receiving), unprotected piv, my first time writing smut so i'm sorry if it's horrible

series masterlist │my masterlist

you’ve known three versions of logan so far. the feral, animalistic version of logan that seems to be at the core of who he is - without any memories, that’s the personality he reverted to, those were the actions he took when controlled only by his baser instincts. then there’s the version of logan you imagine he’s created over the years to deal with his pain, the one that drinks himself stupid and fights against his nature to make others more comfortable, terrified to hurt anyone, terrified that he’ll prove to everyone that he’s a monster.

this version of logan though, the one you see before you now, is as close as you’ve ever gotten to knowing the real him. a person's memories and experiences make them who they are, shape them as a person, and the same can be said for logan. but he’s no longer trying to hide what his mutation makes him, at least not as much as before. he’s not the innocent, loving man you’d brought into your home - you doubt you’ll ever get that exact version of logan back - but he expresses himself in a new way now.

he’s explained to you some of the conditions of his mutation, why he acts the way he does. it makes more sense to you now, why his face is always finding its way to your neck, pressed to the spot where your scent is the most pronounced, mixing your scent with his to mark you. it soothes him, to walk by you and recognise that even when he’s not at your side his presence clings to you.

it’s nice, watching him slowly let his guard down, opening up to you. you’re proud of him every time he mutters something about himself or his past to you, quickly and quietly as though he’s partially hoping you won't hear him.

“i love you,” he says, taking a break from kissing you to breathe the words into the shared air between you.

you smile back at him. the words are as easy as breathing. “i love you too.”

he kisses you again, loving and intimate, a hand going to your waist, gripping onto your flesh tightly as if you’ll vanish if he ever lets go. you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers tomorrow, a reminder of his touch, of the way he worships your body. you part your lips for him, gasping lightly when his grip tightens, giving him free reign to explore your mouth with his tongue.

heat grows in your stomach, wetness flooding between your legs, insistent, and you grind down on his lap, feeling him growing hard underneath you. he’s big, you’ve seen him naked enough times to know, but it feels different with you pressed against him, much more imposing.

“need you,” he groans, fingers sliding under the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, releasing it to watch it slap your skin. you gasp again and he chases the noise with his mouth, catching it on your lips.

he takes his time pulling your sleep shorts down your legs, reverently. there’s always a strange duality to intimacy with logan. he’s intense in everything he does, taking you apart multiple times a night, his gaze almost predatory as he explores your body. and yet he treats you like a queen, taking his time to make sure you feel good before he ever does anything for himself.

he spreads your legs open with his large hands, kneeling between your legs. he kisses up your thighs, so close to where you want him and you squirm.

“please, lo,” you beg, your hands in his hair.

he starts off slow, a consistent rhythm that has you begging for more, your moans growing breathier and louder until he can no longer control himself, eating you out like a man starved. his beard burns against your thighs, a delicious pain that only makes the pleasure more intense.

he adds one finger, the thick digit brushing against your walls, pressing against the spot inside you that makes you cry out. his fingers are bigger than your own, longer too, and he’s always much more effective at fingering you to an orgasm, able to give you what you need. he always knows what you need.

he adds a second finger, and that paired with the way his tongue drags against your clit, catching on the tip, has the pressure building inside you. 

your orgasm hits you like a wave, a slow crescendo and then you’re falling. you ride his face as you cum, using your grip on his hair to pull him closer to you, feeling his nose bump against your clit as you press your cunt against his mouth. you shudder as you come down from your high and logan pulls away, mouth and beard glistening with you.

he’s still nearly fully dressed, which you find absolutely unfair, so you pull his shirt off, tossing it aside, making quick work of removing the rest of his clothes until he’s gloriously naked. his cock is hard and proud, flushed and straining.

he needs you, and he tells you so, the words echoing between you, the sentiment going straight to your core.

you wrap a hand around his cock, stroking him a few times, running your thumb over the tip to collect the beads of precum and rub it down his shaft. he groans at the feeling, rutting into your hand. usually this is the part where you take him into your mouth, let him fuck your throat until you’re gagging around him and spit dribbles from your lips around his thick cock.

but you want something different today, you want more. you haven’t taken this step yet, you didn’t feel ready before, wanting to wait until you were at a point where your rocky, unlabeled relationship felt solid. now, you couldn’t imagine not being ready to share this step with him, to give him every piece of you, putting your life and your love in his hands and begging him to keep it, keep you.

“lay down,” you order him, letting go of his cock to shove lightly at his chest, not hard enough to actually move him - you’re definitely not strong enough for that - but he goes willingly, and you smile at how quickly he complies.

you’re not usually the one giving orders in the bedroom, but he’s always weak to your whims, regardless of how small or meaningless they might seem. he wants to make you happy, something he’s told you multiple times when you teased him about how willing he was to do anything you asked of him. you could easily make him submit to you in bed if you batted your eyelashes at him and asked nicely.

he watches you with dark, lustful eyes as you crawl over him, straddling his lap, grinding your leaking pussy against his hard cock. you both moan at the feeling of your wetness sliding against his length, at how ready you both are for this.

“i want you inside me,” you say.

“are you sure?” logan asks, breathless. he wants it, you can see how hard he’s fighting not to rut up into you, but he’s holding back. it makes you feel warm all over, the way he cares so deeply about you, never pushing your boundaries, never wanting to push for more than what you’ll allow. it makes you want him even more.

“i’m sure,” you affirm, “don’t think i’ve ever felt more ready for anything, actually.”

you line him up with your entrance and slowly sink down, feeling the stretch with every inch of him. you're thankful he stretched you out with his fingers, but you have to stop to breathe regardless when he’s halfway inside, the sound of your heavy breathing mixing with his own ragged pants as he fights to let you take the time you need.

finally you sink down onto him, a sigh escaping your lips when he’s fully sheathed inside you. you roll your hips to adjust to the feeling and logan growls, low in his throat. 

you lift yourself up halfway before sinking back down, a new rush of heat rolling over you when you hear the way logan groans. he holds onto your waist as you move, helping lift you so you don’t get too tired, but eventually you start to falter, unable to keep up the steady rhythm. you pout as your movements become slower, annoyed at yourself, but logan takes over the moment you can’t, rolling you over onto your back so he’s hovering above you.

you wince at the feeling of him slipping out of you, but as soon as he has you positioned on your back the way he wants you, he’s lining himself up with your hole again, fucking into you hard and fast.

“this okay?” he asks, though you doubt he needs the answer given how you’re whining and writhing underneath him.

his thrusts are relentless, a steady pace that he could probably keep up for days and days. he has wonderful stamina, something you’d learnt the first time you’d made him cum when his cock immediately hardened again in your hand, your eyes widening as you looked up at him. he’d shrugged and smirked as he explained he didn’t have much of a refractory period. “‘least not when i’m with someone as pretty as you,” he’d continued.

he’s using one hand to grope your breasts and the other sneaks down between your legs, rubbing circles over your clit. he’s hitting that perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and you can feel your second orgasm approaching, more intense than the first.

“fuck,” logan grunts, “y’feel so good, so tight.”

he looks wild, fucking into you like this, his eyes roaming over your body like a predator assessing his prey. you feel your stomach twist pleasantly at the thought. he keeps up his pace until you’re coming around him and even as you squeeze around him he doesn’t falter.

“logan!” you scream as he continues, overstimulation bordering on painful.

he grunts and growls, and you grip onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his arms. he moans loud when you accidentally draw blood from the intensity of the hold you have on him. you feel the blood welling against your fingertips and then the strange sensation of his skin stitching itself back together until it's smooth again under your touch.

“gonna breed you,” logan growls, and you babble incoherently in response. you’re not quite sure his words are even penetrating your mind. all you hear is the sound of his voice, the rough timbre of it. “gonna make you mine. my mate.”

“yes, yes logan, please, come inside me. need you!” his thrusts get more erratic as he gets closer to the edge, and then they falter for a moment and he’s coming. hot spurts painting your insides as he keeps fucking into you, shallow thrusts that push his cum deeper, closer to your womb.

he presses a kiss to your stomach, nuzzling his head into the soft flesh there. his breathing is as ragged as yours. you feel completely undone, your mind fuzzy and content, like you could stay right here forever and you’d be perfectly happy.

“that was amazing,” you say.

he looks worried now, eyes narrowing like he’s not quite sure he trusts you to be telling the truth, like what just happened wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life.

“you sure?” he asks, “that wasn’t too much?”

“no,” you smile, “i told you, i like when you act like an animal.”

you can feel his cock hardening again inside you, pressing against your walls. he moves his hips so you can feel it shifting with the change in position, at the perfect angle that he knows will make you scream. you watch his lips curl up, a dark smile that matches the darkness in his eyes as he stares at the way you’re trapped underneath him.

“do you?” he says, not a real question. you love when the feral side of him takes control, and you’re watching it happen now, can read what he wants from the look in his eyes.

yeah, you’re in for a long night. and you couldn’t think of anything better.

“you called me your mate,” you comment much later, feeling sated and boneless with your head resting on logan’s solid chest, feeling it rise and fall along with the steady pace of his breathing.

logan hesitates for a long moment. you can feel him tense underneath you, his muscles freezing in place, the smallest hitch in his breath that you wouldn’t have noticed if not for your close proximity. you don’t mind waiting for him to cycle through his thoughts, the words caught in his throat, seconds ticking by in comfortable silence until his frame relaxes once more and he pulls you in closer.

“i did,” is his only reply. short, succinct, waiting expectantly for your response, your reaction to a term that is distinctly animal-like. it’s also the first time he’s put any sort of label on your relationship, other than calling you “mine”, possessively whispering the word in your ear as if you’ll forget if he doesn’t remind you.

“what does that mean for us?” you ask, tracing patterns on his skin, forming each letter of your name with your index finger, “we’ve never actually said what we are, you know. and i can’t say i know the ‘human’ equivalent of the term mate. does this mean you’re my boyfriend? something else?”

“that’s a childish term,” logan says, lines forming between his brows as he frowns.

you smile, leaning in to kiss away the tension there, feeling the slight sheen of sweat that had formed over his skin while he fucked you, not quite dry yet. you should be getting up to shower, rinsing away the salty layer of sweat from your activities, throwing the ruined bedsheets into the laundry to be replaced by clean ones.

but you’re comfortable where you are now, avoiding the mess you’d made of the sheets by curling up on the other side of the bed, wishing you could push up closer to logan despite the fact that you’re already as close as humanly possible. if only you could crawl into his skin, break past his ribs and settle there, protected where no one else could ever reach you, tucked right against his heart.

“what would you want me to call you then?” you ask.

“for now, nothing,” logan says. in his eyes you see a battle, words and thoughts that you wish you could read, that you hope he’ll one day say aloud. “there isn’t a word that’s enough to describe this. one day i’ll be your husband, but until then, just say you’re mine. my girl.”

“are you proposing to me?” you laugh, eyes bright and smile pulling at your cheeks in a way that’s nearly painful.

“no,” he grunts, “when i propose to you it’ll be much better than this.”

and what else can you do but fall into him? your heart feels like it might burst from the warmth that fills you, threatening to spill out from every cell in your body, too much for anyone to properly handle. it’s on your hands when you use them to hold him down, swinging your leg over his lap so you’re straddled atop of him, kissing him in the hopes that it’s enough to express what words will never be enough to express.

he meets you in the middle, mouth hot and demanding. you’ve never felt more wanted, never felt more loved, like you could take on any struggle the universe may throw at you and be fine because logan’s by your side, always there to catch you. you read the promise on his lips, and the word forever is unspoken but you both hear it anyway.

taglist: @mystiquesvendetta @raeinyourdreams @babey-fruit-bat @meetmypointlessaddiction @kneelforloki @deaky-with-a-c @hypermarvellove @littlepeanut03 @the-ruler-of-death @aliengutzstuff @misscrissfemmefatale @mynamesstevenwithav @teaganthemorningstar @blackkatzz @leryg0 @fries11 @forksloree @i5uckersblog @dragovegogrimborn @quillycrow @melday0105 @just-a-little-cellist @scorpiosaintt @akasha157-blog @insanesosciopath @eridektbh @trickstergabriel69 @lord-bingus666

[purinfelix]

from your last post could i request pedri? from “about you” by the 1975 where perhaps reader and pedri had a past relationship all throughout high school and when pedri left for barcelona they lost contact / broke up but years later they reunite somehow? When they do it’s like a “i thought you’d forget about me by now” to “how could i forget about you?” maybe angst to fluff! sorry that was so long … i hope it made sense lol <33

did you think i'd have forgotten? ✶⋆.˚ - pedri gonzalez

w/c: 600 a/n: this is one of my fav songs of all time so tysm for this (and for giving a specific request HAHA) i got quite a few for this song but i liked this idea the most and thought it fit the best - hope u enjoy anon !! <3333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

He still looked exactly the same.

Or at least, from what you could make as your train sped past where he was standing on the platform - though you were pretty sure you could still faintly his features, that dark black hair, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes as he laughed.

It was all exactly the same.

And maybe it was the realisation, that feeling of noticing someone familiar in a place like this - or something deeper within you that you dared not to question - that pushed you to speed off the train at the last minute when this wasn't even your stop. Maybe it was this that made you walk, then jog, then sprint towards what you recognised as his figure in the distance.

But it was also the reminder of what happened between you two, all those years ago, that brought your sprint to a screeching halt. And what would be the chances of you running into your ex-boyfriend here, at a random station, far away from your hometown or the country he had left you to move to? How could you face him, after all that?

"Y/N, is that you?" Too late.

"Pedri?" you called out, your tone confused even though you had made up your mind about it being him long before he had.

"Woah, hi, what are you doing here!"

"I could ask you the same thing," you laugh, a little awkwardly.

"I'm here for a match, we're playing a local team."

"Oh, right," you smile, of course, "I study here."

There's a slight pause, in which you can see Pedri's expression turn into one of surprise. "I didn't know that."

"I mean, why would you?" You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but it's too late since his face is already donning an apologetic look.

"Right, sorry," he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks at the floor. "What are you studying?" he says after a while of silence.

"Nursing," you say matter-of-factly.

"Of course, you'll be great at that," he says, offering a warm smile.

It's clear he's eager to make this exchange as normal as possible, and you'd probably be obliged to let him. But it's hard to be normal given what happened between the two of you, when this is the first time you've spoken to him in years.

"It's nice to see you," he says after another moment of silence.

"Same for you," you laugh shyly trying to avoid eye contact, "I figured you'd forgotten about me by now."

"How could I forget about you?" When you look into his eyes again, you're taken aback by how well his expression reflects his words - his brows tilted slightly up in the inner corners, a tender confusion at the fact that you'd think he'd dare to forget about you.

"Well, you know with how famous you are and everything, I see how they chant your names when you play," you begin to ramble, eager to explain yourself.

"Well, I'd hardly consider myself fam- wait, you watch my games?"

"Well, yeah," you sigh shyly, feeling your cheeks glow pink at the sight of his smirk. The two of you stand there, looking at each other for a while, exchanging sly glances - and it feels, just for a moment, like you're the same high schoolers who were in a puppy-love relationship.

"Are you doing anything now?" he asks you.

"Well, I was on my way to class but I'm probably late for that now."

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I want you to show me what's good around here," he smiles, "oh, and catch me up on how you're doing."

You feel your cheeks begin to ache from how wide you're smiling.

"I'd like that," you nod, "I'd like that a lot."

[ombiblombi]

P.AI.nter is SUCH an interesting character to me... he's probably become one of my all time favorites, as I haven't fixated on a character this hard since since...TMC. It physically hurts to think about it in the best way possible-

That being said, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS to say about 'em... so I'm going to dump them here.

First and formost, it's so interesting that P.AI.nter has such a wide array of emotions when it comes to attacking and interacting with the Expendables. At first it's strange, like "WTF?? You're trying to kill me and you just yelled how I was boring, wdym you're sorry??" But... knowing his lore and backstory, it makes so much sense.

P.AI.nters creator was gunned down on accident by Urbanshade, which upon the discovery of P.AI.nter, then decided to trap him in a harddrive and make it mine whats essenically crypto at the Hadal Site- For years, it's stuck mining for the company unwillingly, unable to draw the lanscapes it loved. For fucks sake, P.AI.nter tried to FRY HIS CIRCUTS just to get out. He's desprate, miserable and lonely, and just wants to escape- Any way possible.

And so when Sebastian comes reeks his havoc on the site and finds it, P.AI.nter is incredibly trusting of him to get them both out. Maybe alittle too trusting, but whats he got left to loose? They've both been used by the company and want nothing more to leave, leave and never return. So when Sebastian connects it to the servers- to the Navi-Path & Turrets and tells him to stop the Expendables, P.AI.nter does.

However.

This is self preservation down here. P.AI.nter of course, is rightfully angry at times. I mean- The same company that killed it's creator before his very (nonexistant) eyes, trapped it down here, and even sucked the joy he has from creating art away is now actively getting in the way of the freedom he yearns for. But at the same time... this isn't something done that it entirely wants to be doing. Like I said. This is self preservation. And his actions, and even your deaths weigh heavy. Theres a voiceline, and its delievered so well- Of P.AI.nter pleading for the player to wake up and apologizing profusely if it kills you.

That line sparked this whole theory in the first place.

Your death, reminds it of his creator.

Isn't it ironic how it's now manning the very same weapon that killed the one who brought him sentience in the first place? That he's now the one at fault? Thats gotta be on the back of his mind each and every time it leads an expendable to their demise.

This isn't personal.

He doesn't know who you are.

But it still hurts.

It really annoys me when people in the community call P.AI.nter two faced, or god forbid, do the shitty thing of saying in a derogatory manner that he's bipolar or such as a "joke". Thats just disrespectful to both the character and folks who do have it. It's just plain rude. People do something similar for Sebastian, saying that oh, they're ruining his character by making him mean and snarky and whatnot. I know this happens in every fandom out there, and that this rant is fruitless, but... people need to understand that characters like P.AI.nter and Sebastian have reasons behind their actions and have existing trauma that if you take a moment to look at, you can go "Wowie! Thats a complex character! Everything makes so much sense now, like a puzzle peice I can see traces of in their character in almost every aspect!" Rather than doing awful things like I brought up at the start. But... I digress. I know this rant wont change much so. I hope y'all enjoyed my mini character analysis

Anyway this video has all of P.AI.nters voicelines if 'ya wanna go have a listen after this :] also I got plenty more thoughts about P.AI.nter and Sebastian if anyone wants to know!

[metallicames]

New fic with 2000's James! Hope you like it 🥰

@nausicaamusiclover20 you for the perfect translation❣️

I missed you

Description: You and James had a baby two months ago, you're slowly getting back into your routine and you feel the need to start making love with James again and it seems almost like the first time.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, sex, oral sex, dirty talking.

Two months have passed since Elijah was born—two difficult, but at the same time, beautiful and intense months. James has proven to be an amazing father. Since he got sober, he feels like a different person—caring, attentive, present, and reliable. I find myself falling even more in love with him. Slowly, I'm getting back into my routine. It feels good to focus on myself again, but part of me still aches every time I leave Elijah. I never thought I'd be the kind of mom who struggles with being apart from her baby, but every time I head to the gym or prepare for my upcoming runway show, there's a knot in my stomach. I’m so proud of what I do, but I can't help but feel torn.

In three months, I have a big runway show, and I've started going to the gym again. Today is one of those days, and I’m heading home after my workout, eager to see Elijah and James again.

I push the door open, the familiar scent of home welcoming me. I can already hear the soft hum of James's guitar drifting down the hallway. My heart skips a beat, and I find myself walking toward Elijah’s room almost instinctively.

When I step inside, I pause, watching them. James is sitting in the armchair by the crib, guitar in hand, his strong fingers gently strumming a slow, peaceful melody. Elijah is peacefully asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm with the song. I can’t help but smile, my chest swelling with love.

James’s presence is such a contrast to the serene room around Elijah. His broad shoulders and tattooed arms look so out of place here, surrounded by the soft colors and delicate decor, but somehow, it makes everything feel even more right. He looks so relaxed, so at peace. It’s as if the world outside doesn’t exist in these moments, and all that matters is the tiny soul asleep in the crib and the man playing music to him.

I stay still, watching them, my heart full. It’s been months since we’ve had time alone, and I can feel the distance between us melting away, the desire for him creeping back in. But there's also something else—a sense of longing for the connection we've both been craving. It’s been so long since we've had time to ourselves, just the two of us.

I bite my lip, torn between my love for Elijah and the pull of James. I’m not sure I’m ready for everything to change, but seeing him like this, so attentive, so gentle—it stirs something deep inside me.

Finally, I take a step closer, my footsteps soft on the carpet, and I lean in to kiss the top of Elijah's head before turning my attention to James.

“You’re always full of surprises,” I whisper, my voice soft, teasing.

“I thought I’d try something different today,” he says with a grin, putting the guitar down gently. “Elijah seemed to like it.”

I smile, my heart melting. I lean in, letting my fingers brush against his, a small touch that sends warmth through me. “He did. I think he’s just as in love with you as I am.”

James’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me in closer. For a moment, it’s just us, standing there in the quiet of the nursery, the world outside forgotten.

A shiver runs down my spine. It’s been months since we’ve touched, and I can feel the longing desire  inside me. The distance between us has become unbearable, and I know it’s finally time to reconnect, to feel his touch again, to make love.

I watch Elijah sleeping peacefully in his crib, careful not to disturb him. I don’t dare touch him, not wanting to wake him up. My heart is racing as I turn toward James, and I can’t help but move toward him. I reach up and run my fingers through his short, tousled hair, the touch soft and gentle, before pressing my lips to his in a slow kiss. I pull away slowly, my gaze locking with his, and then kiss him again, this time deepening it, my tongue slipping past his lips with a careful, lingering motion.

His hand moves to my face, cupping my jaw and the side of my neck. His grip is firm, but there’s tenderness in the way he holds me, his fingers pressing slightly against my skin. He tightens his hold just a little, sending a shiver through my body.

"I want you..." I whisper, my voice breathless as my lips hover close to his ear.

I feel him stiffen slightly, his gaze lighting up with a fire that matches my own. He had promised to wait for me, to wait until I was ready. I know he’s been patient, but I can see in his eyes the same longing that’s been growing inside me. The months of silence, of distance—it’s been agony for both of us.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and full of concern, but there's a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes search mine, making sure I’m comfortable, that this is what I really want. "Do you feel okay?"

I meet his gaze, nodding softly. "I’m ready," I whisper. "I feel… right with you."

His smirk deepens, and he nods, his eyes darkening with approval. Then, as if to answer my unspoken invitation, he leans in and kisses me again, this time with more urgency. The kiss starts slow, sweet, but quickly becomes more passionate, his lips moving against mine with a deep hunger. His hands roam to my back, pulling me closer, the heat between us building as we kiss.

After a few moments, I pull back just enough to breathe, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My fingers trail down his chest, and I look up at him with a small smile. "Let’s go to the bedroom, "I suggest, my voice thick with desire.

He gives me a slight nod, but I hesitate, glancing back toward Elijah. "Wait" I say, stepping back for a moment. I grab the walkie-talkie from the shelf by the door and hand it to him. "Just in case he wakes up…"

James takes the walkie-talkie with a smirk still playing on his lips, his eyes locked on mine. "We’ll be quick" he says, the teasing tone in his voice making it clear he's eager, but patient.

I feel strangely nervous, almost as if it’s the first time. Maybe it’s the fear that something has changed, that it won’t be the same as before. If that’s the case, it would hit me hard because making love with James has always been one of the things I love most in the world. I try to hide the anxiety by kissing him hungrily, my hands finding their way to his chest, slipping under his shirt. The warmth of his toned chest makes me crave him even more.

As we move toward the bedroom, my heart is pounding in my chest. I try to push away the doubts creeping in—wondering if everything will be as it once was. What if things have changed? What if the passion we shared is gone, lost in the months of silence and distance? The thought makes me uneasy, but I try to shove it aside, focusing instead on the feel of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body against mine. I don’t want to think about anything else right now—just him.

James pushes me gently toward the bed, and I sit down, looking up at him. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the same fire that’s burning in me. Without breaking eye contact, I reach down to undo his belt, biting my lower lip as I pull at the buckle, feeling the tension build with every second.

"How badly do you want it?" he asks, his voice teasing, but laced with desire.

"Too much..." I answer, my hands pulling down the zipper of his jeans, my breath quickening with anticipation.

I pull down his pants and boxers, my gaze lingering on him for a moment. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, and the air between us feels thick with desire. I can’t resist reaching out, my hands trembling slightly as I take his dick, slowly stroking it while I licked it, waching him intensely. His hand comes to the back of my head, gently guiding me closer. His breath quickens, and I can hear the low sounds of his pleasure. I take my time, moving deliberately, savoring the moment, savoring him.

"Stop…" he whispers, his voice rough. "I’m already close..."

I slow down, feeling the change in the air between us. I pull back just a little, giving him space to breathe, to collect himself. My fingers brush my lips, and I look at him, my chest rising and falling with each breath.  His eyes are dark, deep, full of desire. He pulls off my shirt, and for a moment, I feel exposed and vulnerable. My body has changed—my breasts are fuller from breastfeeding—and although I’ve almost regained my shape, I still don’t feel completely at ease. But when I see the way he looks at me, I feel a shiver run through me. His gaze moves slowly over every inch of my body, as if he’s memorizing me, in awe of the way I’ve changed.

He unhooked my bra while kissing me with slow, passionate intensity. The bra falls to the floor, and with one hand, he gently touches my breast. He knows I’m sensitive, so he’s careful, making sure his touch is soft, almost reverent. His fingers leave a trail of warmth that makes my head spin. I want him so much, more than I can put into words. I could throw myself at him in an instant, but he holds back, wanting to take his time, wanting to be gentle with me. His care only makes me want him more.

I lie back, pulling him down toward me, kissing him with a hunger I can’t suppress. I bite his lips softly, savoring every moment, intoxicated by his scent, his warmth. It’s like everything around us fades away, and I’m lost in him.

James pulls back just slightly, his eyes searching mine before he carefully pulls off my jeans and panties, his touch never rushing, always slow and deliberate. 

"You're beautiful... like a goddess," he says, his voice almost breathless. His compliment makes me blush, and I look at him, pleased, as I whisper, "Come here."

He quickly pulls off his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity between us grows, and I feel a spark of anticipation.

His hand moves slowly toward my body,  touching my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through me. I arch my back instinctively, the pleasure building with every soft, deliberate touch. He kisses my chest, taking his time, pressing his face into me as if savoring every moment. His movements are slow, thoughtful, as though he’s memorizing each of my reactions.

I can feel myself becoming restless, my body craving more. It’s like a fire burning in me, one I can’t control.

"James, please... I need you," I say, my voice tinged with desperation, my body responding to his touch, moving beneath him.

He looks at me with a smile, positioning himself between us, his gaze full of longing. As he kisses me, he slowly pushes himself into me and I feel a rush of warmth and closeness. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t make a sound, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. I open my mouth slightly, a deep sigh escaping as I hold him closer, feeling his arms enveloping me.

“God... I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. I feel the weight of his body above me, the pressure grounding me, but there’s something comforting in it—like we’re both exactly where we’re meant to be. But it becomes more passionate as I feel his lower abdomen rubbing in my clit at every thrust.  and I can’t help but respond to him, my hands gripping his back, my body aching to feel every part of him.

I know he’s holding back, trying not to rush, making sure I’m okay, and it makes me crave him more. I whisper his name, urging him on, knowing that right now, we both need this—need each other.

“Harder… James… give it to me harder,” I urge, my voice trembling with desire.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he asks, concerned in his voice.

Without saying a word, I place my hand on his butt, guiding him closer to me, urging him deeper. He understands the message  and his arms move around me, pulling me in, his hands gently supporting the back of my head. He begins to thrust harder, with a new intensity, each motion slow but deep, bringing a wave of pleasure with every thrust. I let myself fully surrender to the sensation, each movement leaving me breathless. 

James is completely immersed in the moment now. His lips leave mine, his forehead resting softly against my shoulder as he continues thrusting, as though nothing else matters but the connection between us. I can feel him shaking, his breath quickening, and the way his body reacts tells me everything I need to know.

“Keep going,” I whisper, lost in the feeling of him, feeling the intensity building between us.

He reaches the peak, pulling away and leaning over me, his breath shallow as he cums all over my body, his expression of pleasure sending a rush of excitement through me. The warmth of him leaves me breathless, and his uneven breaths only heighten the intensity of the moment, sending me into a daze of sensation.

"I love you..." I whisper softly.

"I love you too, Y/N..." he responds, his breath heavy.

I look down at my abdomen and burst into laughter.

"Oops..." he says, laughing as he runs a hand through his hair.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom. When he returns, he has a damp towel, and he gently wipes it over my body, the sensation soothing. As he reaches my lower abdomen, I realize I still crave him. I want to feel more. As he moves the towel down, he pauses at my lower abdomen, almost as if he can read my thoughts. He starts kissing me, moving lower, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits me. I’m afraid my body isn’t the same, that he won’t find me attractive anymore. Instinctively, I close my legs.

He looks at me, confusion in his eyes. "Hey... it’s me."

"I know, but..." I trail off, unsure of how to explain.

"You're perfect... relax," he says, his tone soft and reassuring as he continues to kiss me gently.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling him gently part my legs, kissing my clit. Slowly, I start to relax, and I realize my fears were unfounded. He loves my body just as much, if not more, than before. From this moment, his mouth and tongue move with perfect rhythm, knowing exactly how to stimulate every right spot. I know he loves giving me pleasure, and I can tell he would never stop. As he picks up the pace, a wave of shivers runs through my body, almost like an electric shock with every touch.

"Oh my God, James... you’re going to make me c..." I gasp, my hand tangled in his hair as I start trembling beneath him.

From time to time, he lets out a low, almost primal groan, sending another jolt of pleasure through me, making the sensation even more intense. At one point, he takes my ankle and places my foot on his shoulder, and I raise the other one to mirror the position, giving him more room to move. He kisses deeper, the sensation of his touch making me dizzy. His intensity drives me wild, and I can feel how deeply he desires me, how every action, every movement reminds me that I belong to him.

I can no longer control my moans, my body trembling with each wave of sensation. I arch my back, turning my head back as the pleasure builds. Just before reaching the edge, I glance down, seeing James, his skin glistening with sweat, completely naked between my legs. The sight of him, the way he moves against the mattress, only intensifies the feeling.

"J-Jamie... oh my God... I’m... I’m coming," I gasp, my body contorting as I grip the pillow with one hand. He wraps his arm around my leg, and with the final movements, he brings me to a powerful, overwhelming release. It’s intense, freeing, and everything I’ve been craving.

The sensation is so overwhelming and prolonged that I can barely catch my breath. I loosen my grip on his hair, and I notice that he’s still grinding against the mattress, his face so close to me. His soft groans soon give way to his own exhaustion, and he finally stills, breathing heavily. 

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaims, almost breathless.

"What happened?" you ask, amused, as you run your fingers through his hair and pull your feet off his shoulders.

"It’s that I... I came while I was eating you out . This is the effect you have on me," he says, his head resting on your lower abdomen, his breathing heavy and irregular. You smile, gently stroking his temple. He slowly sits up and lies next to you. You turn onto your side to watch him, admiring him quietly.

"Never doubt your body again, understood?" His voice is firm, his gaze intense, almost as if he's trying to make me believe in myself just as much as he believes in me.

I nod, my heart racing, and lean in to kiss him. The moment our lips touch, I feel a tear escape, rolling down my cheek.

He pulls away just enough to look at me, his expression filled with concern. "Why are you crying now?"

I try to steady my breath, the emotions swirling within me. "I don’t know... it's just... I’ve missed you so much, and with everything... my hormones are all over the place. There’s just so much I feel... I can’t even explain it all," I confess, my voice trembling with vulnerability.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls me closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me, as if trying to protect me from all the worries I’ve been carrying. His warmth grounds me, and I can’t help but close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and I feel his chest rise and fall as he inhales deeply. “I love you,” he whispers, the words coming so naturally, like they’re the most important thing he’s ever said.

I melt into his embrace, feeling his arms around me, holding me in a way that tells me I’m safe. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear calms the storm inside me, and for a moment, everything feels right.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Given we have finally gotten news regarding the anime what do you think about it being an adaptation of the manga?

I have some mixed opinions since we'll be seeing the same story for the 4th time at this point (game/manga/novel/anime) but there does appear to be some differences with each especially with each unique Yuu. I do think the OBs and fight choreography is best animated over a slice of life show.

I'm not expecting any major changes from the manga if any at all but I'm happy to see it animated at all. I do hope it is successful so that the other books get animated. I feel like we are in a purgatory of early TWST with how often we go back to the earlier books in different mediums.

[Referencing this news!]

Gonna be honest with you, I’m kinda numb to getting yet another adaptation of the main story (a story that, mind you, we've already heard ad nauseum). At this point, it really does feel like a never-ending purgatory or time loop where we are forced to relive Heartslabyul over and over and over 😅 Of course, I'm still looking forward to seeing the anime and watching some of the more complicated scenes play out (fights, flashback sequences, playing magift/spelldrive, etc.). However, I think I would have preferred something new...? For example, vignettes, the event stories, etc.

The anime being an adaptation of the manga is... fine? But that means the anime may also have the same issues that I have with the manga. Those would be:

We will never really be able to fully bond with or know Yuu on a deeper level since Yuu is constantly changing between books/seasons. We won't get to see how the Yuu of Heartslabyul interacts with characters in later books, we won't get to see how the Yuu of Octavinelle handled the Heartslabyul and Savanaclaw conflicts, etc. We won't see any of them grow or change as a result of interacting with the NRC cast. This sucks particularly because if you really love a particular Yuu, you know they won’t be sticking around.

Despite the Yuus being designed as foils for the OB boys of each respective arc, no special meaningful interactions come out of it. The reader/viewer is just left to draw the parallels but there is never a moment where Yuu and the OB boy reconcile about their similarities/differences, which would actually justify the frequent changing of the POV character.

Barely any alterations are made from the game's story, since the manga isn't allowed to deviate in significant ways. No matter how different the Yuu is, they cannot ever make a decision or even have dialogue that would actually change the story in interesting ways.

General time constraints (manga arcs are 20 chapters, seasons have a limited number of episodes).

Limited showing/screen time of some characters. Because the adaptation will be of the main story, some characters that make very bad first impressions (hi, book 2 Leona… hi, Sebek without the vignettes…) will maintain those bad first impressions and won’t have a chance to redeem themselves simply because the bonus content (vignettes, event stories, etc.) aren’t adapted. Other characters won’t get as much focus simply because they aren’t the OB boys. The former would mainly be a concern for anime/manga-only fans.

Most of my disappointment comes not from reliving the same story, but that we are reliving the same story with minimal changes. I would enjoy adaptations more if they actually played around with the source material and explored new avenues! It feels like a missed opportunity, you know??

As I said earlier in this post, this is NOT meant to be overly negative; this is healthy skepticism. I'd describe myself as still excited, but not as excited as I would be if the anime were about something else set in the Twst world. Hope that makes sense 🙏

I would also caution readers to take my concerns with a grain of salt; for all we know, maybe the anime will add new scenes or fix some of the issues I pointed out. We should wait until the anime is out to judge its content and quality for ourselves.

On a positive note though 🤡 M-Maybe we will see. Shirtless L*ona animated… because… y’know… Episode of Savanaclaw technically canonized it… HAHAHAh JK… unless…? 🥺 👉👈

[aedearly]

✎ㅤ. . .ㅤ𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑺.

₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of loose quotes taken from various characters from hades (supergiant games). these quotes are from the first game of the series. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit, especially since some are gendered.

❝ i’m leaving. try and stop me. ❞ ❝ that could have gone better. ❞ ❝ why can’t you just stay? ❞ ❝ i wish you could come with me. ❞ ❝ you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ i have to take you back. ❞ ❝ but for you, i will be making an exception. ❞ ❝ whew… they’re gone. ❞ ❝ now, come on, we got places to be! ❞ ❝ may the fates favour your journey. ❞ ❝ oh you know, i’d rather have my eyes put out, but thanks for offering! ❞ ❝ if only… ❞ ❝ you should be ashamed of yourself, and learn your place. ❞ ❝ ahh, so you are taking pity on me, then? ❞ ❝ i’m sorry that it has to be this way. ❞ ❝ you’re late. ❞ ❝ will i see you soon? ❞ ❝ did you miss me? ❞ ❝ i’m home. ❞ ❝ we’re heading home. ❞ ❝ you… came back? ❞ ❝ i hope i didn’t keep you waiting very long, did i? ❞ ❝ is something wrong? ❞ ❝ i can’t believe this. ❞ ❝ i’m in your debt. ❞ ❝ there’s going to be payback, you know. ❞ ❝ … damn you. ❞ ❝ this is for you. ❞ ❝ do you remember me? my name is—ah, nevermind. ❞ ❝ i’m not who you think i am. ❞ ❝ keep following that heart of yours. ❞ ❝ to hell with this place! ❞ ❝ fear is for the weak. ❞ ❝ oh, look at you, you poor, poor thing, you’re hurt! ❞ ❝ you’re such a sweetheart. ❞ ❝ you brought this on yourself. ❞ ❝ no need to thank me, mate. ❞ ❝ please, i don’t want to do this… ❞ ❝ you don’t have to do this… ❞ ❝ only the best for you. ❞ ❝ i hope you’re right. ❞ ❝ gods grant me strength… ❞ ❝ that is the worst idea i think i’ve ever heard. ❞ ❝ do you understand how little sense that makes? ❞ ❝ look what i found! ❞ ❝ something’s changed about the beating of your heart. ❞ ❝ no wonder they don’t like you. ❞ ❝ wish i could be there to see your face. ❞ ❝ i’ll earn your favour yet. ❞ ❝ how bad could it be? ❞ ❝ hello there, handsome. ❞ ❝ … this is the cheesiest thing i’ve heard from you. ❞ ❝ what has gotten into you? ❞ ❝ blood and darkness! ❞ ❝ lucky for you, i’ve no pride like many others here. ❞ ❝ it’s over. i’m sorry. ❞ ❝ go. away. i won’t repeat myself. ❞ ❝ i knew your heart was true. ❞ ❝ let’s kiss and make up! ❞ ❝ mischief, me? oh please! ❞ ❝ i don’t know how you can stand this kind of thing… ❞ ❝ you tried. that’s what matters. ❞ ❝ a man after my own heart… ❞ ❝ why won’t you give up? ❞ ❝ ever so stubborn, aren’t you? ❞ ❝ life and death, one and the same. ❞ ❝ you’re running from yourself. again. ❞ ❝ what do you want from me? leave me alone. we’ve nothing to discuss anymore. ❞ ❝ i cannot bring myself to stay upset with you forever. ❞ ❝ the truth is i’m a lover, not a fighter. ❞ ❝ i have to see her! ❞ ❝ so how goes wilful disobedience of late? ❞ ❝ you think all these gifts will make things go back to the way they were? ❞ ❝ we’re older now—i’d hope we’re wiser, too. ❞ ❝ i have to go. ❞ ❝ we were having such a good time! ❞ ❝ time is up. ❞ ❝ you’re so reckless. ❞ ❝ thank you for always keeping me on my toes. ❞ ❝ your luck’s run out. ❞ ❝ i don’t know why i bother with you, honestly. ❞ ❝ may i call you my friend? ❞ ❝ i’d like to make a toast, to you! ❞ ❝ no need for special thanks. ❞ ❝ i’ve some memories i’m not quite ready to give up on yet. ❞ ❝ i’ll break your heart. ❞

[something-wild-calls]

Modded by @loupy-mongoose.

Jamie Wild was a character originally created as a trainersona more than a decade ago, who gradually evolved into a character all her own and ended up the protagonist of a yet-unpublished Soul Silver Nuzlocke called Shadowed Soul. In recent years, after these many years of building her character and the Pokemon world around her, I've been wanting to make her completely my own, world and all.

Someday I still hope to tell her Nuzlocke story and keep up with her in the Linden Roots world, but here I will be giving an alternate version of that story--Some elements will remain the same or minimally changed, while some changes will be drastic. So both stories will hold their own merit, when comes time to tell them both. :>

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Asks Notice:

I'm having the inbox open only so that people can ask about specific curiosities, and allow for prompt inspiration. This is not an interaction or Role Play blog! I won't say it's impossible, but any asks worded as such will likely not be answered as such, and may not be answered at all. That being said, I do reserve the right to answer as I see fit. XD

For now I will leave anonymous available, but I will turn it off if anyone chooses to act in ill-will or with weird intentions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some notes about this story:

-The setting is the same world as my other story The Matters of Life and Death. So some things, such as staffwyrms and the way magic works, is the same between stories.

-I currently plan to tell it in a slice-of-life manner, probably through mixed means of comic, artworks, answered asks, and potentially writings.

-My aim with this blog and story is to have fun above all else! It's something I feel I shouldn't have to say, but at the same time I also feel I've lost touch with that particular motive. So I'm hoping to remind myself that my art and stories are mine, and are for my entertainment first and foremost.

For those interested in this old tale being made new, welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey! ^w^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Content warnings under the Read More (To save space.)

WARNINGS LIST FOR THIS BLOG (Subject to updates)

DEATH INJURY/BLOOD VIOLENCE SPIRITUAL/SOUL DISCUSSION. (Not really in a Christian sense, but I'll try to tag it as such if it gets too close.) CHILD ABUSE CHILD NEGLECT CHILD INJURY/ENDANGERMENT CHILD ABANDONMENT

Related Tags to mute if desired:

#TW: Death -- #TW: Injury -- #TW: implied injury -- #TW: Blood -- #TW: Violence -- #TW: Christianity (If it comes up, but I don't expect it to.) -- #TW: Child Abuse -- #TW: Child Neglect -- #TW: Child injury -- #TW: Child Endangerment -- #TW: Child Abandonment

[kybercrystals94]

✨333 CELEBRATE!! ✨

Okay my prompt idea is “type 2 fun”

“Type 2 fun occurs when a task is difficult at the time, but feels rewarding afterward, often because it challenges the practitioner to test their limits and grow.”

Thank you so much!!

This prompt was such a fun challenge, and I actually thought of several “type 2 fun” scenarios, but I decided to go with the sweet one ;-;

I hope you enjoy it!

Worth It

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 333

“I don’t understand the point of this,” Tech says. “We were not required to leave our campsite location until daybreak.” 

Hunter turns to look back at his brothers trudging behind him, eerily green in the lens of his training helmet’s night vision setting. “It’ll be worth it.” 

“It better be,” Crosshair grumbles from the back of the line. 

Hunter actually doesn’t know if this trek will be worth it. After all, he only heard about the “surprise”, as he was calling it, by eavesdropping on a couple trainers that were in the hangar when they were loading up for their off-world exercise. 

“You woke me up in the middle of a good dream too,” Wrecker whines. 

Crosshair sighs. “Please don’t tell us about it.” 

“Why not? It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do hiking in the dark.” 

“Because your dreams are kriffing ridiculous!” 

“I agree with Crosshair. I do not believe that your subconscious mind conjures up even twenty percent of the details you tell us.” 

“Well, I gotta fill in the gaps, otherwise the dream wouldn’t make any sense at all!” 

Hunter thought that the hardest part of this whole thing would be getting his brothers to wake up and pack their camp before their scheduled departure time; but now, he is starting to wonder if the hike will actually be their undoing. If they don’t make it to the crest in time, it will all be for nothing. 

“Focus up, we’re almost there!” Hunter calls out. 

“You told us that twenty minutes ago,” Tech protests. 

“And we’re twenty minutes closer.” 

It is another ten minutes of hiking and bickering later that the squad of defective clones reach their destination. 

“Have a seat, boys,” Hunter says. 

“For what purpose?” Tech asks. 

“You’ll see.” 

Hunter takes off his helmet as the first swatches of sunrise colors paint the dusky sky, and his brothers do the same. Hunter doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so beautiful. The trainers hadn’t exaggerated at all. 

END

Let me know if you’d like to be added to my tag list!

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[writingredrose]

for a good cause | Rollo x reader

summary : While having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.

warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing

a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...

A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 🫶🏻🩷

P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')

The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...

Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...

The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.

“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?” The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago. “Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you. “The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were. “Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't? “Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„

Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.

He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...” Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring” At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring„ “Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.

The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.

You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...? “Are you alright?” Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off” You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.

Isn't it weird?

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...” The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache” Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.

“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”

...what?

The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.

You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth” He didn't stop looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you” You were at a loss of words.

He was right wasn't he?

He knew

Of course he did

After all why bother hide it anymore?

You hated their guts...

You HATED that school

You hate THEM

YOU HATE IT

YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.

This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.

He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours. “And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh. “Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”

The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke. “So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to- “Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you? “You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”

Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is” Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„ “So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.

Predatory admiration. You could see it in the way he looked at you. Eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Raw hunger that felt almost otherworldly.

“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary” Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-

“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary” Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”

The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.

You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you„ spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.

A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...” You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.

Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”

The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?” Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell. “If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be? Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on. “U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?” Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.“What's that? A flower??” In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack* Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers. “Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.

Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.

“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”

Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?” Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found. “Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight. “GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance. “I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him. “WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!” Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him” Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.

And there he was. The students looked at the stop for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed. “Why? Well it's quite simple. I did so I can rid this world from this magic of course” “Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!” “SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!” He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!” “No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard. “Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!” The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh. “Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”

Step step step

One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair. “Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him? “Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!” Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?

“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?” “W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?” “Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did” Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me” Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”

This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason. “Child of man this is not the-” “QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do. “Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his. “Enjoy your last moments”

And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.

[midnightbears]

✿ duskbound, afterlight.

#STARRING: cybertronian femme reader & other characters.

#TAGS: fighting. actually the mildest chapter up to date. god I'm so scared no one will like how i've written megatronus lol. please i hope you see my vision. first time doing rivals to lovers or whatever you can call this. pls cope

#NOTES: decided to update every friday from now on. if i manage to get chapters pre-written in advance (i aim to have the next chapter ready by the time i post one that same friday, so i can spend the week working on the one after—does that make sense?), i might occasionally treat you to two updates in a week! enjoy.

part one | part two | part three | part four

By the time you reached the Gladiators’ lobby the following day, the air was thronged with a charged energy, the sort that seemed to cling to every wall, echoing with the sounds of metal on metal, vents straining, and deep, triumphant shouts.

Everybot was huddled along one of the balconies, crowding around an opening that overlooked something beyond the far wall.

Rows of mechs stood shoulder-to-shoulder, some bellowing cheers that bounced off the metal walls like thunder, others clapping with resounding clangs, while the most fervent smashed their fists against the rail, their excitement so volatile it seemed to need an outlet.

Curiosity began to scratch at you, prickling down your frame. Despite every instinct to stay back and keep yourself apart from the ruckus, you found yourself walking toward one of the stairways that wound upward, leading to the crowd clustered on the balcony.

Each step seemed to amplify the roar of the crowd, until it was as though you could feel the vibrations of their shouts traveling through the very metal under your pedes. Keeping a cautious distance from the more raucous mechs, you slipped your way toward the source of the commotion.

As you neared the top of the staircase, your optics caught sight of a rectangular hole in the wall, reinforced by vertical bars. It was just wide enough to see through, though you had to strain on tiptoe to get a proper look. Beams of infrared light filtered through the opening, casting fractured red rays across the walls and the faces of the onlookers, painting everything in sharp contrasts of light and shadow. 

Finally, as you reached the top, you craned your neck, peering past the row of mechs to get a clear line of sight through the opening. When you did, a small gasp left your dermas, barely louder than a whisper against the deafening roar of the mechs surrounding you.

There, in front of you, lay the full view of the Pits—up close, brutal, and thrumming with the tension of every movement, every strike, every staggered breath. From this vantage, you could see what the crowd above you never could. Here, there were no barriers, no filters to buffer the violence; you were close enough to make out every tiny detail.

You could see a vast assembly of mechs locked in combat—hulking frames clashing with smaller, wirier fighters, protoforms smashing against armor, the floor slick with the bright, gleaming blue of spilled energon.

The air down there was thick with the wails of mechs in pain, shrill and jarring, mingling with the triumphant shouts of those who tasted victory, and the ragged cries of the defeated. The sound was jarring, almost painfully so, but what kept your optics trained wasn’t the thrill of the fight itself, nor any particular fascination with the combat.

No, what held your gaze was the proximity of it all—the rawness, the sheer vulnerability of every bot below you.

From here, you could see everything that those in the stands missed: the frantic stuttering of vents, trying desperately to cool their overworked systems; the almost invisible droplets of coolant collecting along neck joints and plating, beading and trembling like they were waiting for just one more blow to shatter them. You saw the armor of one mech pressed and twisted under the crushing weight of another, locked down to the ground, his frame rigid, his optics wide with desperation as he fought against his own survival instincts.

This, you realized, must have been what Bluey had meant when he’d said most of the gladiators had watched your match. They weren’t just fighting their own battles down there—they were spectators, too, studying every movement, every hesitation, every moment of weakness or strength.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d seen it—the exact instant when your fight had started, the moment you’d frozen, the flicker of panic that had tightened your frame and seized your joints, rendering you unable to move. Had they watched as you felt the first stirrings of that paralyzing fear, the memory of Starlight’s cold, lifeless form flashing across your processor?

With a hard, irritated shake of your helm, you wrenched your attention back to the fight in front of you.

And then, as if sensing your attention, a sudden blur of blue shot across your field of vision. The movement was so quick it seemed almost impossible, and then—clang! Bluey’s frame crashed against the bars just in front of you, close enough that you could make out the nicks and scratches etched across his plating.

His backplates were pressed firmly against the bars, his vents cycling rapidly as he caught his bearings. For a sparkbeat, you could only watch in shock before he shook himself off with a chuckle, his grin defiant as he pushed himself back to his pedes and leaped with renewed vigor.

The flash of motion snapped you back to the world around you, and out of the corner of your vision, you noticed a faint, colorful flickering. Shifting your gaze upward, you saw a large screen suspended from the wall above, displaying a multitude of names. Each one shifted up and down, the rankings constantly changing as new names appeared and others dropped.

You searched the list, half-curious, until your optics snagged on Bluey’s designation, not far from the top. Your own, however, was absent, and Bluey’s rank dipped every so slightly each time he took a blow. It wasn’t hard to guess the screen’s purpose and how it must have been related to the ongoing match.

Cringing, you comprehended that you wouldn't be fighting today either. Just as well. If your designation was never called, it would hardly make a difference. You weren't exactly itching to return to that arena. Let them throw their punches and spill energon. Today, you had other things to deal with. Like returning that rotatory buffer to Rumbleburner.

You turned on your heel and headed back down the stairs, casting one last glance at Bluey’s gleaming form as he ducked an opponent’s swing. The crowd's roar followed you down the hallway, fading as you returned to the berthroom.

The buffer lay on your recharge slab, and you picked it up without much thought, immediately turning on your heel afterward. You ran a thumb over it, feeling a vague sense of satisfaction at how it had wiped away the traces of yesterday’s match from your frame. Not that Rumbleburner would care about that—he just wanted his tools back in one piece.

The infirmary was halfway across the complex, and you knew better than to dawdle on your way there. Rumbleburner wasn’t exactly patient. If he had to wait even a second longer than necessary, he’d make sure you knew it.

Navigating through the complex, you used the dents on the walls and the scattered objects across the ground as a sort of map to reach the infirmary, and although you had to use the signs on the walls more than once, you were pretty pleased that you remembered most of the way there on your own.

You barely stepped through the medbay door when the sharp tang of heated metal hit your olfactory sensors. A faint hiss, the sound of old servos grinding against fresh repair plating, came from the far corner of the room.

There, on Rumbleburner’s main table, was a massive figure with silver, angular plating, the kind that looked forged from the deepest recesses of Kaon’s foundries. He was reclined halfway, his shoulder stripped down to the bare mechanisms, while Rumbleburner worked at him with a scowl and a welding tool, sparks flaring every so often.

Rumbleburner’s optics flicked over to you, and his scowl deepened. "Finally. Thought you’d keep that buffer ‘till it rusted in your berthroom."

It had only been a day since he had given it to you, but you weren’t about to point it out.

You offered silence and held out the tool, trying not to stare too much at the mech on the table out of your own well-being. But the urge was intense; something about him commanded attention. Every line and groove of his frame looked crafted to channel strength, but his optics were dimmed, waiting, as Rumbleburner worked to patch him up.

The old medic grunted, plucking the buffer from your servo and giving it a quick inspection. "I don’t care what you new little bots do with my tools," he muttered, only half to you, "just give them back on time. Speaking of…" He tapped the mech on the shoulder. "Megatronus, this is the rookie I was telling you about."

At the sound of his name, the bot’s optics flickered to life, their ochre-like glow sharper than you’d expected. His gaze found yours instantly, and for a fleeting moment, the whole medbay seemed to close around you. He took you in with a slow, appraising sweep, his optics narrowing, processing every scrape, every trace of dust or scuff on your frame, in the way a seasoned warrior might size up a fresh recruit.

That was precisely what it was, after all.

"You’re the new one," he said. "Only just arrived yesterday with the rest of that batch, if I recall. They threw you into the Pits already?"

You nodded and shrugged, uncomfortably aware of his optics on you as if he were sifting through every memory of that match. "I talked back to the bosses."

One side of his lip components lifted ever so slightly, a gesture you couldn’t reasonably interpret. Approval? Amusement? You couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, and the sound made you cringe. "Not a lot of newcomers do that."

You were about to answer when Rumbleburner beat you to it, letting out a small huff, setting the buffer aside with a thud, and turning his full attention back to Megatronus’ shoulder.

"She survived," he muttered, gruff but loud enough for you to hear. "Not like they’re sending their best these days."

Megatronus tilted his helm slightly, giving the medic a stern look, but Rumbleburner only shrugged, unbothered.

"What? It’s true." He gave a sharp twist of his tool, forcing a grunt from Megatronus as he worked a stubborn piece of plating back into place. "Can’t fix the whole world with a dent puller."

But you were hardly listening to the medic now. Megatronus’ optics hadn’t left you, and as you held his gaze, you felt a faint, strange pull—like he was seeing past the fresh scars on your plating, through the layers of doubt and frustration still crusted to your frame.

"So what brings you here today?" he asked, voice quieter but somehow even more intent, as though he cared about the answer despite himself.

"Just… returning the buffer." The words felt strangely trivial, even as you said them, yet you couldn’t seem to hold back a faint wryness in your tone. "I hear Rumbleburner’s tools don’t stay out of his sight for long without consequences."

Megatronus’ optics flickered with a gleam of humor at that.

"My comrades said you told off Bullway," he said, now completely ignoring the medic working on him, "shame I couldn’t be there to see it. I was matched against another rookie at the time."

Instinctively, the word ‘rookie’ made you raise your helm as a bothered expression crossed your features. Had one of your comrades lost his life to him? You slightly gestured to the wound on his shoulder with a flick of your optics.

"Did the rookie do that to you…?"

"Mh? Yeah, caught me off-guard. He couldn’t even get a proper hold of his sword before I turned his helm inside out, though."

Your optic ridges furrowed, and you willed yourself to look down. 

Before you could say anything, though, Rumbleburner clamped down on Megatronus’ shoulder plating one last time, satisfied. "There. Fixed, well enough, though Primus knows how long it’ll last with you throwing yourself into the arena every other cycle. You took your sweet time comin’ to get it fixed, too."

Megatronus stood, standing only a smidge taller than you, his shoulder plating gleaming faintly from Rumbleburner’s patchwork repairs. When you looked at his powerful shoulders and blunt-featured face, so rough and yet so civilized, it was impossible to believe he could be defeated. He stepped toward you, optics tracing over your frame one final time.

"Do you have a name?"

Your optics wondered briefly, nowhere in particular, but then, you told him your name.

He offered you his stretched-out servo, and you took it without much thought. "You may call me Megatronus."

The weight of his servo was steady, his grip firm yet not overbearing as you clasped it. His touch was warm against the roughened edges of your own, a strange contrast to his intimidating form. 

He glanced once more at Rumbleburner, who had already moved on to sorting a chaotic pile of tools, muttering to himself about the medbay’s perpetual mess. Megatronus gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod toward the door, signaling for you to walk with him.

You hesitated a moment as Megatronus turned toward the door, but he glanced back over his shoulder and raised a brow ridge.

"Well, rookie? Coming along, or are you just here to gawk?"

A spark of irritation shot through you, lighting up your circuits. Straightening with a flash of defiance, you closed the distance, falling in step beside him as he led the way out into the corridor.

The hall was quieter than the medbay, with only the faint, distant murmur of the crowds filtering through the heavy walls, swallowed up by shadows stretching between each overhead light. Matching his pace, you noticed his occasional side glances, that annoying, casual way he seemed to size you up, as if already forming conclusions he wouldn’t bother explaining.

"Not exactly my first option to trail after you," you said, the edge in your voice as deliberate as the steady rhythm of your steps beside him, "but I had questions."

He scoffed without even glancing your way, his pace unfaltering. "Questions? I'd expect a new recruit to ask for advice, maybe. But then, from what I’ve heard, you’re more the type to give orders to mechs with twice your frame."

You blinked lazily, your optics fixed straight ahead, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. "If Bullway’s ego can’t handle a little criticism, that’s his problem. Besides, I wasn’t exactly gentle with it."

A low chuckle rumbled through his frame, resonating as he shook his helm. "Criticism? That’s one word for it."

You rolled your optics, catching his smirk in the corner of your vision. He had that irritating way about him, like he held some exclusive knowledge of the world that put him a step ahead. He was just like every other mech here, you thought—acting as if his opinions were forged in the stars and the rest of you were just stragglers trying to catch up.

"So, what? You thought you’d come and set me straight?" you asked, with a dry tone and one brow ridge raised.

"Primus, no," he replied with a grin, one that tugged lazily at his lip components, equal parts amusement and dismissal. "Not worth the effort. Rumbleburner can barely tolerate you as it is." He cast you a sideways glance, his optics sharp but not unkind. "Besides, I’m not interested in meddling with anyone’s bright ideas. Not in the habit of saving anyone from themselves."

That comment sparked something more profound in you, an itch of frustration mingling with a new curiosity. His voice had a jaded edge, as if he’d seen enough high hopes and brighter sparks sputter out to know better. His dismissal wasn’t harsh—just resigned, the weariness of a mech who’d watched too many days turn and too many bots burn out. Something about it felt like a challenge, as if he were waiting to see how much heat you really had in you before you burned away like all the others, too.

"Must be nice," you said, letting a taunting note slip into your voice, "to have it all figured out. So what is it, then? Is it hard to have all the answers?"

He halted mid-step, tilting his helm to the side with the slightest arch to his brow ridge. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his optics glinted with something you couldn’t quite place—amusement, perhaps, or just a dash of challenge. "Would it bother you if I did?"

"Would it bother you if I said it wouldn’t?" you countered smoothly, holding his gaze with unyielding sharpness. "Bots like you come in here, acting like they own the place—like they know exactly how things should work. But you’re just another mech, stuck in the Pits like the rest of us."

"Am I now?" he said, arching a brow ridge, though his expression remained carefully composed. "Tell me, rookie, what would you know about the Pits? One match? Half a round before you’re tossed back to the medbay?" His gaze narrowed, studying you like he was trying to decide if your fire was all talk.

"Maybe," you shot back, narrowing your optics to match his. "But at least I’m not hiding behind tired speeches and empty advice."

His smirk wavered, replaced by a narrowed gaze, his optics narrowing with scrutiny as he took a long look at you, one that seemed to penetrate down to your spark. There was no malice in it, just a silent assessment, like he was measuring your resolve by the pulse of your optics alone.

"You’re still learning your place," he said finally, his tone steady and just as piercing as his gaze. "But I think you’ll find I know mine just fine. After all, I’m not the one who panicked in my last match, now, am I?"

The jab hit like a jolt to your cooling fans, a direct hit you hadn’t expected, but you willed yourself to keep your expression blank. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of seeing any reaction, any chink in your armor.

"Fine," you replied, lowering your voice to a steely whisper. "But at least I didn’t have to hobble back to the medbay because a rookie managed to land a hit on me."

Silence stretched between you, the hallway suddenly seeming endless and deserted as the tension crackled in the air. For a split second, you wondered if he’d lash back, close the distance between you and start a fight right there, but instead, he just stared, his optics locked on yours with a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

And then, against all odds, he laughed—a rough, genuine sound that echoed off the walls.

"You’re a sparkplug, aren’t you?" he muttered, sounding almost impressed, a smirk ghosting across his face as he shook his helm. Without another word, he started walking again, as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than idle chatter. "Still, try that in the arena, and you’ll end up in a scrap pile. No one cares how fast your wit is if you can’t back it up."

"Is that a warning?" you shot back, quickening your pace to catch up with him, feeling a rush of energy from the exchange. "Or just an excuse?"

"Take it however you want," he replied easily, his voice even. "I’m just saying that next time you find yourself staring down an opponent, maybe think less about how clever you sound and more about whether you’re willing to finish the fight."

You paused, fixing him with a steady gaze, and for a brief moment, it felt as if the entire world around you—the distant din of the crowd, the hum of the lights, the shadows that stretched down the corridor—all vanished. It was just the two of you, optics locked, your resolve colliding with his challenge. His gaze held none of the mockery or disdain you’d expected; instead, it was something darker, sharper, a quiet but powerful test.

"Maybe I will," you said, your voice softer but laced with intent.

He gave a curt nod, though the familiar smirk was back, tugging at one corner of his mouth. "Good. I’d rather see you prove me wrong in the Pits than just stand here trying to talk me in circles."

You couldn’t help but let out a snort, crossing your arms in a defiant stance. "Believe me, when the time comes, you’ll know exactly where to find me, Megatronus."

He lifted one optic ridge, that unreadable, calculating look slipping back onto his features like armor. "I’m counting on it, Y/N."

"Seriously, I can’t leave you alone for one match?!"

"Please—"

“Not only did you meet the Megatronus, but you also threatened him?”

“I have done no such thing!”

After his daily matches, Bluey had practically dragged you into one of the countless armories, excited to test out a new weapon on which he had invested a significant amount of saved shanix. However, based on his tone and judgemental remarks, it seemed less about actually trying it and more about him swinging the hammer around while envisioning you hovering nearby to vent his frustrations.

Bluey hefted the hammer, the weapon far too large for his frame but swinging with ease in his practiced servos. His optics glinted as he shot you a mock glare, the hammer’s weight shifting in his grip.

“So you’re telling me,” he continued, his tone caught between exasperation and disbelief, “that you just happened to be in the medbay when he was there, and you didn’t say anything to him that could be interpreted as a threat?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I just… implied he might not be invincible. That’s hardly a threat, is it?”

Bluey’s optic ridges shot up as he adjusted his grip on the hammer, letting it balance on one shoulder. “Yeah, okay, then I’ll just walk up to Vexblade and ‘imply’ his joints are overdue for a little rust, see how he takes it.”

“Not the same thing!” you protested, but your spark pulsed a little faster as the memory of the exchange with Megatronus replayed in your processor. “He was testing me.”

Bluey scoffed, setting the hammer down with a heavy clang. “Right. And in the arena, when they test you, do you plan on talking your way out of a ground slam?” He shrugged, shaking his helm with a playful look that you could still tell masked some genuine concern. “Because you and I both know there’s no talking there. They don’t let up until you’re either out cold or crawling back for repairs.”

He was right, of course, and even if he was trying to be more melodramatic than usual, his words weighed heavily. It wasn’t just Megatronus you had to worry about, after all; everybot in this place was out for a victory, and no amount of quick words or barbed comebacks would matter in the heat of the arena. Your name or purpose would not save you.

“Fine,” you muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I know it will take more than just… attitude to survive here. But I can handle it.”

Bluey’s optics softened, and he set the hammer down entirely, crossing his arms in a rare moment of quiet seriousness. “You’re not bad, you know that? But your technique—your form. It’s… well, let’s just say I’ve seen better. If you want to last, you’ve got to be more than just ‘not bad.’”

You glanced away, unsure if you wanted to hear it, but knowing you had to. He was right again, and he wasn’t saying this just to prove a point; he was saying it because he cared, because he saw something in you worth fighting for.

Bluey continued, his tone softening even more. “You have some instinct for this stuff, but the moment you hesitate? That’s the moment you’re done. You need to train yourself past that.”

A quiet moment passed, and you met his optics, “And you’d help me, then?” you asked, managing to sound more confident than you felt.

“Of course.” He lifted the hammer and tossed it between his servos, his expression mischievous but not unkind. “In fact, I think we should start now. I’ve been waiting to test this out, and I’ll be doing you a favor by giving you a head start on your training.”

You took a step back. “So that’s your big plan? To beat sense into me?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if the hammer fits…”

He spun the hammer once more before planting it on the ground and leaning on it, that spark of playfulness still lingering in his optics.

“We’ll start small,” he said. “Nothing serious, just getting you comfortable with some moves. Maybe work on your footwork and teach you how to get out of those lock-ups.”

You tilted your helm. “Lock-ups?”

“Oh, yeah.” He gave a mock grimace. “You’d better get used to them. Everybot worth their metal will try to pin you first thing. Figure if you can’t move, you can’t fight. But if you know how to twist out of those before they set, you’ll have an advantage.”

You considered this. It was daunting, but with Bluey’s confidence, something else stirred—a sense of resolve you hadn’t felt before. You might not have known if you belonged here, but you’d be damned if you went down without giving it everything.

“All right, then,” you said, setting your shoulders. “Show me.”

Bluey grinned, readying himself with the hammer as he gave you a once-over. “But you have to promise me something. Next time you run into Megatronus? Maybe don’t go testing his patience. Bots like that don’t exactly have it in surplus, you know.”

You crossed your arms, rolling your optics. “I won’t tiptoe around him just because he has a reputation. Besides, he’s the one who started it, not me.”

Bluey let out a laugh, raising an optic ridge. “You think it’s that simple, huh? Megatronus isn’t just some brute out for a thrill. He’s… well, complicated. He might look like he’s sizing you up for a fight, but there’s a lot going on under all that plating.”

“Oh, you mean like he’s an unsolvable mystery?” you said dryly, trying not to let on that the conversation had piqued your interest.

“More like he’s a spark that could explode any minute,” Bluey replied, his voice low. “A mech like him doesn’t care about rookies or rivals, really. He’s here for his own reasons, and believe me, they’re big ones. He’s not going to lose sleep if you get in his way.”

“Good thing I’m not planning to get in his way,” you replied, meeting Bluey’s serious expression. “I’ve got enough on my hands just trying to keep my own frame in one piece.”

“Just don’t get tangled up with him if you can help it.” Bluey rested the hammer on his shoulder, looking thoughtful. “Bots like him don’t usually come out of nowhere. Megatronus has something to prove, something huge, and the way I see it, anyone who gets close enough is bound to feel it.”

“Maybe,” you said, trying to sound dismissive, “But he’s not the only one here who’s got something to prove.”

Bluey smirked, that mischievous light back in his optics. “Look at you. Almost yesterday, you were crying your optics out in the middle of the hallway, and here you are, talking big about proving yourself.”

You blinked, clearing your voicebox, letting Bluey’s words roll off like energon on worn plating. The picture of you, unsure and battling, seemed far away—like a ghost from a life that no longer suited you. There was no time to contemplate what you had abandoned, or the grief that still lingered in your mind. You simply couldn’t focus on it. Not at this moment. Nor for the days to come.

So you shoved it all back into the far recesses of your processor, locking the memories away where they couldn’t follow you. That scared, grief-ridden version of yourself—the one that had faltered in her last match—would be gone. And she would leave. You would make sure of that.

Bluey tossed the hammer back and forth between his servos, grinning. “Now, enough talk. Let’s see if you can keep up.”