#though tbh I would have thought that the idea of him being 'half' one thing and 'half' another would be worse if anything?

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Sex | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

This fucking song and this fucking idea have been floating around in my head for months and I think I just gotta get it out before I go NUTS!!! I hope y'all enjoy.

This is... not very plot driven tbh, just pretty much longing and smut.

Words: ~9,200

Tags: Shameless Smut, Modern AU, Plus/Mid-Size Reader, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Post-Hogwarts, Chonky Seb Supremacy, Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Longing and Pining

The walk to the car is excruciating.

And it’s not because of the crowd, not because of the neon-lit chaos of the parking lot, or because people are weaving between cars, shouting to their friends, the leftover adrenaline from the concert still pulsing through everyone’s veins.

It’s excruciating because of you.

Because you’re tipsy and giggling, clinging to Sebastian’s wrist as you stumble over the uneven pavement in those ridiculous platform heels that you insisted on wearing even though you knew you’d be walking half a mile back to the car.

Because your top is tight—way too tight—clinging in ways that make his pulse skip, the fabric stretching over curves that he’s spent ten fucking years trying not to stare at.

Because your jeans are hugging your thighs like they were painted onto you, and he’s trying so goddamn hard not to think about how good they look, how good you look, how much better you’d look without them.

And then there's your makeup—the dark, sultry eyeshadow, the perfectly lined eyes, the lipstick that started out precise but is now just slightly smudged from sweat, from drinking, from running your tongue over your lips all night.

It’s killing him.

You laugh suddenly, squeezing his arm as you stumble again.

“God, my feet hurt,” you whine dramatically, pressing your forehead against his bicep like the weight of your suffering is too much to bear. “Why the fuck did I wear these?”

Sebastian snorts, steadying you easily. “I asked the same thing when I picked you up, love.”

You lift your head, squinting up at him, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, the heat, the pure, unfiltered joy of the night.

“They make me taller,” you say, lifting one foot and wiggling it mid-air for emphasis before dropping it back down with a clunk.

Sebastian shakes his head, amused but also distracted, too fucking aware of you tonight.

“You’re still short,” he mutters.

Your mouth drops open in mock offence and you shove him, but your balance is shit, so you just end up gripping his arm harder, your nails pressing into his skin.

Sebastian swallows. He feels everything—your warmth, your weight against him, the way your fingers curl slightly against his forearm, the way your perfume is mixing with the sweat on your skin, and fuck—

He clenches his jaw. Keeps walking.

You don’t let go.

“That was such a good show,” you murmur, your breath warm against his shoulder.

Sebastian swallows. Nods. “Yeah.”

Then you tilt your head up at him, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re being so quiet,” you tease, squeezing his arm. “Did you not have fun? You didn’t even get a single drink.”

Sebastian exhales sharply through his nose, smirking just enough to cover the fact that his pulse is pounding.

“Yeah, well. One of us had to drive.”

You laugh, nudging your hip against his.

“Responsible and sexy,” you tease. “God, you really are the whole package, aren't you?”

His throat goes dry.

You always do this when you're tipsy. You get flirty, bolder than usual, pushing boundaries you'll never fully cross. You say things, teasing, reckless things, that curl around his ribs and settle deep into the spaces between them. Things that would mean everything if he thought, even for a second, that you meant them.

But you don't. You never do. By morning, it'll be like it never happened.

You'll wake up, groggy and hungover, your memories softened at the edges, and everything you said, every look and every touch, will be reduce to a joke, and Sebastian will have to pretend it didn't mean anything to him either, just like he always does.

He knows this.

But tonight? Tonight, it’s harder to keep his head on straight.

Because you look like this. Because your boyfriend isn’t here. Because your fingers are wrapped around his arm, and your perfume is still lingering in his lungs, and you keep staring up at him like you’re waiting for him to say something. Like you’re daring him to say something.

Sebastian forces out a low chuckle, looking away.

“Let’s get you in the car, trouble.”

He unlocks it with a quick flick of his keys, grateful for the distraction, for something to do with his hands other than wrap them around your waist and haul you up against him.

He slides into the driver’s seat and barely gets the door shut before you’re groaning dramatically and stretching out.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, reaching down with clumsy fingers to unbuckle your heels. “I swear to Merlin, I think my feet are broken.”

Sebastian smirks, watching as you yank them off one by one, dropping them onto the floor with two loud, echoing clunks.

“Told you,” he mutters, reaching for his seatbelt.

“I don’t need your attitude right now,” you huff, kicking your feet up onto the dashboard before twisting to face him.

Then, before he can even register what’s happening, you shift—leaning over the center console, stretching yourself across his lap like you belong there.

His entire body locks up.

Fuck.

Your hair spills over his legs, soft waves spread over denim, the warmth of you pressed against him. You twist a little, adjusting yourself, completely oblivious to how every tiny shift of your body is undoing him.

Sebastian exhales sharply through his nose, staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel like it’s the only thing tethering him to sanity.

“You comfortable?” he mutters.

You hum, smiling lazily, your cheek resting on his thigh.

“Mhm.”

His pulse jumps at the sound, but you’re not even thinking about it, are you? You’re not thinking about what it means, or about how he can feel the heat of your body through his jeans, how desperately he’s trying not to not get hard right now, how much he wants—

He exhales sharply, tilts his head back against the headrest, and fights the urge to slam his fist against the dashboard.

This is going to kill me.

Sebastian puts the car in drive.

Your place is only twenty minutes out of town. All Sebastian has to do is survive you laying across his lap and not get pulled over for the blatant seat belt violation happening right now. Simple.

Except it’s not.

Because every time he shifts gears, he feels you. And every time he exhales, he catches the scent of your shampoo, and because your breath is warm through his jeans, your fingers idly tracing along his thigh like this is just something you do, something normal, something casual, something it absolutely isn’t.

Then you start talking, and part one of his mission—survive you being in his lap—becomes infinitely harder.

“You ever think about your exes?”

Your voice is light, teasing, and the question comes out of nowhere.

Sebastian’s grip tightens on the wheel. “Like who?” he mutters.

You hum, fingertips still lazily dragging patterns over his thigh.

“Emilia?” you guess. “Or what about… what was her name? Harper?”

Sebastian scoffs, his pulse pounding. “Not even a little."

You grin like you don’t believe him. “Not even for the—"

“Don’t.”

You huff a dramatic sigh. “Sebastian, it’s okay if you still think about them.”

“I don’t.”

That’s the truth.

Because he doesn’t think about Emilia. Or Harper. Or any of them. Not when every girl he’s ever been with has only been a placeholder for the one person he can’t fucking have.

You hum. "I miss some of mine."

Sebastian exhales sharply, jaw flexing.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

He should not be listening to this, but you keep talking, your voice low, thoughtful, the alcohol making you too loose, too honest.

“I mean, not them, really,” you continue. “Just, like… the sex.”

Sebastian almost veers off the fucking road.

He physically has to adjust his grip on the wheel, blinking hard against the heat that flares in his gut, against the way his brain immediately starts supplying images he shouldn’t be thinking about.

You miss the sex. Not the relationship. Not the romance.

The sex.

“You literally have a boyfriend,” he grinds out, his voice tight.

He hears you exhale, feels you shift slightly in his lap. “So what?”

Sebastian finally glances down at you, just for a second, just to make sure he actually heard you right. Because you can’t be serious.

But you are.

You’re staring at him, lips parted, the distant glow of headlights and streetlamps casting golden light over your face.

Sebastian lets out a short, humorless laugh. “'So what'?” he repeats, shaking his head. “Jesus, you really are drunk.”

You make a small, amused noise, your fingers tapping idly against your thigh.

“I’m not that drunk,” you murmur.

Sebastian exhales sharply through his nose. “Yeah?” he mutters. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I just meant that some of my exes have been better in bed than him, that's all."

Sebastian hums noncommittally, keeping his eyes on the road, but his grip on the wheel is tight. Because what the fuck is he supposed to do with that information?

On one hand—good. He’d never liked your boyfriend anyway. The guy was mediocre at best, the kind of safe, boring choice you made when you were trying to convince yourself you wanted stability instead of passion. On the other—

Sebastian doesn’t exactly want to hear about how great some other guy’s dick was.

But the damage is already done. Because now, he’s thinking about it. Thinking about you with them, thinking about the ones who were better, wondering what made them better.

Was it how they touched you? How they talked to you? Was it the way they knew exactly how to pull you apart, how to ruin you? Was it—

The sensible thing to do is change the subject. Ignore it. Pretend you never said it and focus on not losing his goddamn mind while you’re still draped across him, still warm against his lap, still too close.

But then—because he’s a fucking idiot—the words slip out before he can stop them.

“Who was best?”

You stretch a little, completely oblivious to the way every tiny movement of yours is sending heat pooling in his gut.

“Well,” you muse, eyes glinting with something dangerous, “do you want, like, a ranked list? Or just an all-time favorite?”

Sebastian exhales sharply through his nose. “You know what? Forget I asked.”

“No, no,” you tease, scooting up slightly. “You asked. You wanna know.”

I really fucking don’t.

But he stays silent. Because some stupid, masochistic part of him actually does.

You pretend to think for a moment, eyes flicking to the windshield, lips curving in a way that’s going to fucking kill him.

“Probably Caleb,” you finally say, voice thoughtful, casual, like you’re discussing a meal you once had instead of someone who used to fuck you.

Sebastian hates how his stomach twists.

“Caleb,” he repeats, expression unreadable.

“Yeah.”

Sebastian shifts his grip on the wheel, fighting the urge to roll his shoulders, shake off the tension creeping up his spine.

He remembers Caleb.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Stupid fit. A Muggle who played rugby at Uni. Arsehole.

He also remembers how pissed he was when you first started seeing him, how much he fucking hated the way Caleb used to pull you into his lap at parties like he owned you.

Sebastian clears his throat. “Huh.”

You grin, shifting again, your hand brushing against Sebastian's arm now. “He was good."

"Why?"

The question slips out before he can stop it and you smirk, and Sebastian knows—he knows—he’s about to regret asking.

“He was just…” you hum, tilting your head like you’re choosing your words carefully. “He was… I don’t know. Rough, I guess? He liked taking control. Giving orders. That kind of thing.”

Sebastian grips the wheel so hard it might snap in half.

Because now he’s picturing it. Picturing you, pressed down against a bed, hips pinned, whimpering, gasping, hands gripping sheets, your voice breathy as you—

Stop.

Sebastian's jaw locks, his pulse hammering at his throat. “I didn’t need that image, thanks."

You laugh softly. "Why not? I thought maybe you wanted to take notes."

He laughs, low and dry, shaking his head. “In your dreams.”

Your smirk widens. “Mm. Definitely in my dreams."

Sebastian nearly groans.

Because fuck you for saying that. For laughing softly, for dragging your fingers against his stomach as you shift again, like you can’t stop pressing yourself against him. For smirking when you say it, for the way your voice dips, lower, softer, like you’re confessing something, like you’re actually being honest.

Sebastian holds in a sigh. He is not playing this game.

Because you’re drunk, and you’re not thinking about what you’re saying, and in the morning, you won’t remember how you said it, how your voice curled around the words like you meant them, and because your fucking boyfriend is waiting for you to get home.

So he laughs, low, dry, dismissive.

“Sure,” he mutters. “That’s a nice little fantasy you got there.”

“You’re such a dick,” you say, still amused.

Sebastian hums, flicking the turn signal as he veers onto the quiet stretch of road leading out of town.

Eight more minutes.

Just eight more minutes and he can drop you off. He can shake off the feeling of your fingers grazing his stomach through his t-shirt and of your weight pressing against his lap like it’s the most normal fucking thing in the world.

Eight more minutes and this night will be over.

Then you speak again.

"...Have you ever thought about it?"

“Thought about what?”

You grin, and it’s slow, lazy, dangerous.

“Us,” you say simply.

Sebastian stiffens.

Has he thought about it?

Fuck, he’s spent years trying not to think about it.

Not to think about you pressed beneath him, his hands gripping your waist, his mouth dragging over your skin, your voice breathy in his ear. Not to think about the way you’d sound, the way you’d fall apart, the way you’d look wrecked and flushed and fucking perfect. Not to think about how you’d feel under his hands, under his mouth, how you’d—

Sebastian shoves the thought away violently.

Exhales.

He's not about to tell you that.

“No.”

You laugh softly. Sebastian’s jaw tenses. And then you sit up, just a little, your breath warm against his neck.

“I have,” you say.

Sebastian stops breathing, his pulse slamming against his ribs as he flicks his gaze toward you—just for a second, just long enough to see the way you’re looking at him.

You’re not laughing now. There’s no teasing smirk, no smugness either.

Sebastian swallows hard, forcing his eyes back to the road, trying to think, trying to process, trying to decide if this is real or just another one of your drunken, fleeting moments that won’t mean a damn thing in the morning.

Then your hands move, fingers dragging down his chest, slow, deliberate, your touch featherlight but undeniable.

Sebastian grits his teeth, forcing himself to focus, forcing himself to keep the car steady, forcing himself to—

Your fingertips graze the waistband of his jeans, hooking slightly under the hem, and that’s it.

Sebastian's hand shoots out, gripping your wrist, stopping you.

The car is silent. Just the hum of the engine. Just the sound of both of you breathing hard.

He exhales, slow, controlled. But when he speaks, his voice is wrecked.

“Don’t.”

A pause.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't mean it," he mutters, voice rough, like he’s forcing the words out through sheer willpower.

"...What if I do mean it?"

Sebastian slams on the brakes. The car jerks to a stop, tires skidding slightly on the empty country road, the sudden silence deafening.

He stares at you, his pulse hammering, his breath coming too short, too fast.

"Are you fucking with me?"

"Do I look like I’m fucking with you?"

Sebastian exhales hard through his nose.

Yes. No. Maybe. Fuck if he knows.

Because this is what you do.

You flirt. You tease. You get close, just close enough to ruin him, and then you pull away like it never meant anything at all. And right now, you’re still in his lap with your fingers still hooked in his jeans and your breath hot against his neck, and this... this is dangerous. If you’re joking, if this is just another round of you pushing boundaries you never actually mean to cross, it will break him.

Sebastian tightens his grip on your wrist just for a second—just long enough to make sure you’re listening, really fucking listening.

“This isn’t a joke,” he says, voice rough, uneven. “This isn’t a game, it's not—”

"Sebastian."

Suddenly, you don’t seem drunk at all.

The teasing lilt in your voice disappears, evaporating into the thick silence between you. There’s no lazy amusement, no coy smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, no playful glint in your eyes like there always is when you push him just to see how far he’ll let you go. It’s all gone.

Instead, you are sharp, your gaze cutting through the dim light of the car, slicing right into him.

Sebastian feels the shift like a physical thing, like the weight of something heavy pressing down on his chest. His grip tightens on the wheel out of instinct, like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded, but it does nothing to steady him.

Because suddenly, you are steady.

You pull back just slightly, just enough to give him an out, to give him space, but you don’t really go anywhere. You are still there, your body still warm on his, your breathing still uneven, just like his. You simply leave just enough distance between you for him to feel it, the unbearable stretch of space that’s always existed, the one he has spent years pretending doesn’t hurt.

For a moment, you just look at him.

Sebastian sees the hesitation in your expression, the flicker of uncertainty in the way your mouth parts slightly, like you’re on the verge of speaking but don’t quite know how. You look like you’re standing at the edge of something dangerous, like you’re deciding whether to step back or let yourself fall.

Then, you inhale. Slow, measured, determined. And you let it all out.

"I’ve always imagined it was you," you say, voice quiet but unwavering, like you've already made peace with the confession before it even leaves your lips. "Every single time I’ve had sex since I lost my virginity, I’ve imagined it was you."

Sebastian’s stomach plummets, and for a split second, he genuinely wonders if he’s actually dead. If he crashed the fucking car and this is what the afterlife feels like—sitting in the driver’s seat with his best friend sprawled across his lap, admitting the thing he has spent years torturing himself over.

You keep going.

"If hell is real, I’m fucking damned," you huff a laugh, your voice coming out rough, frayed at the edges, "because I’ve touched myself to you more than any reasonable amount."

Sebastian makes a wrecked sound in the back of his throat, one that he barely recognizes as his own. His hands clench into fists at his sides, fingers twitching like they don’t know what to do with themselves. Because what the fuck is he supposed to do with this With you?

You're rewriting everything, burning down every carefully constructed wall he has built to keep himself from wanting you too much.

And then you land the final fucking blow.

"You want the truth? I’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen," you whisper. "And I want nothing more than for you to take me home at least one fucking time."

Sebastian’s body locks up. His vision tilts. Everything inside him goes too tight, too hot, too overwhelming. His fingers are trembling. His pulse is out of control. His mouth is dry.

No, this isn't a game, or some some drunken, fleeting moment. This isn’t a joke.

This is real.

And he doesn’t know how to breathe.

You let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking your head. "And I get it if you don’t feel the same," you say, voice softer now, almost like you don’t want to say it, almost like the idea is too painful, "if that’s why you’re acting like this, then I get it."

You laugh again, except this time it’s self-deprecating and bitter. "I mean, for fuck’s sake," you mutter. "I’ve got a boyfriend anyway. This is so fucked up, I know. I just, I don’t know what happened. But something inside me snapped and I can’t hold back any longer."

Sebastian’s jaw tightens. Because yeah, this is so fucking fucked up. And yeah, you do have a boyfriend and he is literally waiting at home for you right now. But Sebastian doesn’t have it in him to care.

Because you love him.

For ten years, he’s wanted this. Ten fucking years of pretending, of ignoring, of pushing it down so deep it nearly killed him. Every drunken flirtation, every lingering touch, every fucking time you smiled at him with that look in your eyes that made him wonder if you wanted it too, and now he knows you did. Knows you do.

And you—

Fuck, you think he doesn’t feel the same?!

"Just forget I said anything," you mumble. "Seriously. I don’t know what I was thinking, I—"

Before you can talk yourself further into this spiral, Sebastian's hand shoots out, gripping your wrist.

You freeze.

He exhales sharply through his nose, his grip tight, his pulse racing, erratic, wild. Then, his voice low, rough, wrecked beyond repair—

"I've been in love with you since we were fifteen, too."

Your lips part, barely breathing, completely still, like you’re trying to process the weight of those words, like you’ve lived in a reality where that wasn’t true for so long that you don’t know how to exist in one where it is.

And then your face crumbles.

"Sebastian," you whisper, voice breaking, shattered.

And that’s it. That’s fucking it.

Sebastian crushes his mouth against yours.

It’s not slow. It’s not careful. It’s ten years of frustration, ten years of jealousy, of biting his tongue, of pretending he didn’t want you, and ten years of believing he could never have you—all of it, all at once, breaking loose, crashing down.

And you kiss him back.

Hard.

Desperate.

Your hands grip his shoulders, his jaw, fisting into his hair as you pull him closer, closer, like you need this just as badly as he does, like you’re starving for him.

Sebastian groans into your mouth, swallowing the sound of you gasping against his lips, swallowing everything he’s ever wanted from you.

His mouth moves to your jaw, trailing down your neck, sucking a dark, bruising mark against your pulse point just to hear you whimper.

"Tell me again," he growls against your skin, voice rough, demanding.

Your nails dig into his arms, your breath uneven, panting.

"Tell me again how you've thought about me," he mutters, dragging his lips up to your ear. "How you imagined it was me," he rasps, fingers slipping under the hem of your top, gripping your bare waist.

You let out a soft, broken whimper, your fingers curling into his hair and pulling. He grips your jaw, tilting your head so you have no choice but to look at him.

Your lips part, eyes glassy, dark, and fucking desperate. "I imagined you every time."

Sebastian throws the car into reverse.

Because he’s not taking you back to your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. Not when you’ve spent the entire night driving him insane, not when you're touching him, teasing him, whispering in his ear about the exes you never actually wanted because they weren't him.

Not when you just told him you’ve loved him for a decade.

No, he’s taking you home, and the second he gets you there, he’s going to ruin you.

You blink at him, dazed, lips kiss-bitten and swollen, still straddling his lap.

“Where are we going?” you ask breathlessly.

Sebastian’s grip tightens on your waist as he turns the wheel.

“My place."

Your eyes darken, and then your hands are everywhere—fisting into his hair, sliding down his chest, curling under the hem of his t-shirt like you need to feel his skin and touch as much of him as possible.

You trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down his jaw, your breath warm, wrecked, and he groans, tipping his head back slightly as your teeth graze his throat.

“Fuck,” he mutters, barely able to focus on the road as your hands wander lower.

You shift in his lap, your thighs spreading over him, and Sebastian hisses, cursing under his breath as you press down against him, rolling your hips just slightly.

And then your hands move lower.

Your fingers trace the waistband of his jeans, toying with the button, flicking it open. His hips jerk up instinctively and your laugh is breathy, lips grazing against his jaw.

“You drive too well for someone getting felt up,” you murmur against his skin, your voice all smug amusement and heat and fucking destruction as you drag a hand over the bulge in his jeans.

Sebastian groans, a deep, wrecked sound in his throat, his hips jerking into your palm despite himself.

“Fuck, don’t—”

“Don’t what?”

Sebastian slams his fist against the steering wheel, jaw clenched, desperate to focus, desperate to not lose his mind completely.

"If you keep doing that," he growls, low, warning, "I'm gonna pull over and fuck you in this car."

Your breath catches. Sebastian watches as your pupils blow wide, lips parting slightly, grip on him tightening.

His cock twitches in his jeans.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The drive to his place is the longest fifteen minutes of his fucking life. By the time he pulls into his driveway, he’s barely holding himself together.

His jeans are too tight, his body is on fire, his pulse is a reckless, unforgiving thing pounding against his skin, and you—you are still in his lap, still pressed against him, still dragging your lips over his jaw, still palming over him, still teasing, still ruining him.

Sebastian barely gets the car into park before he’s gripping your hips, hauling you against him, mouthing at your throat like he’s starved for it.

You gasp, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, rocking your hips over his lap like you’re hellbent on making him suffer.

And he lets you. For ten long fucking seconds, he lets you.

Lets you grind down on him, lets you drag your nails over his scalp, lets you press hot, open-mouthed kisses against his jaw, lets you whisper his name against his lips, against his skin, against his fucking soul.

Then—

“Inside,” he mutters, voice rough, strained beyond repair.

You blink at him, dazed, breath uneven and wanting. And fuck, he’s never wanted anything more than this. More than you.

The second he pulls you out of the car, you laugh, breathless, fingers gripping his shirt, swaying slightly in his grasp.

Sebastian catches you easily, one arm sliding low over your waist, his palm pressing into the soft curve of your hip, and fuck, he loves the way you feel against him, like you were meant to be there.

You tilt your head back, looking at him through half-lidded, dark-lashed eyes, “You gonna fuck me out here?” you murmur, smirking as you lean up, breath warm against his throat.

Sebastian groans, his hands tightening on you. “Don’t tempt me.”

You giggle, bright and shameless, dragging your nails down his chest, lower, lower, until he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you along.

The second the front door closes, Sebastian is on you.

His hands in your hair, his mouth crashing against yours, his hips pressing you against the door as he kisses you so hard it knocks the breath from your lungs.

And you moan into it, fisting your hands in his shirt, dragging him closer, biting at his lower lip.

Sebastian growls, pressing into you, his knee slipping between your thighs, forcing them apart.

You let out a whimper, grinding down against him, your fingers tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, pushing it up, trying to get it off.

Sebastian laughs, breathless, rough, dragging his lips down your jaw, sucking another mark onto your throat just to hear you gasp.

“You’re impatient, aren’t you?”

You huff, rolling your hips against his thigh, lips curled into something dark, something smug, something absolutely fucking ruinous.

“You’ve made me wait a decade, Sebastian.”

Sebastian’s grip tightens. and then he’s lifting you, hands firm under your thighs, carrying you through the house like he’s done this a hundred times before, like deep down he’s always known exactly where this was going to end.

You laugh again, thrilled, breathless, arms wrapped tight around his neck as he kicks open his bedroom door and drops you onto the bed.

Sebastian stands at the edge of it, looking down at you—panting, flushed, wild-eyed, ruined before he’s even touched you properly.

You smirk.

“You just gonna stand there, Sallow?”

Sebastian smiles, dark and dangerous. Then he’s crawling over you, one knee pressing between your thighs, his hands bracketing your face, his lips ghosting over yours, teasing, testing, torturing.

His voice is low, a promise, a warning.

“Not a fucking chance.”

He takes your mouth again, swallowing your breathy little gasps as he kisses you deep, slow at first, dragging his tongue against yours, learning the taste of you, the heat of you, memorizing this moment in case the world ends tomorrow and this is all he ever gets.

And you fucking moan.

Loud and wrecked and needy, and it does something to him, something devastating, something that makes him tilt his hips down, pressing into you properly, rolling against you in a way that makes you gasp against his lips.

“Fuck, Sebastian—”

His fingers work automatically, popping the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down, tugging the fabric past your hips—revealing more, more, more.

Sebastian has seen you a thousand times—in every possible way, in every possible light.

Drunk off your ass at parties, laughing with your head thrown back, cheeks flushed, eyeliner smudged from the heat of the room. Half-asleep, curled up in the passenger seat of his car, your fingers twitching as you dream. Post-workout, sweaty and flushed, hair stuck to your forehead, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. Dressed to the nines for some god-awful date with some guy who wasn’t him, your perfume lingering in his car long after he dropped you off.

And yet, he’s never seen you like this.

Laid out in his bed, your lips swollen, your chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, your jeans halfway down your legs beneath his hands, the anticipation humming between you so thick it feels like drowning.

You’re reaching for your top, fingers curling around the hem, ready to peel it off—not that it ever hid much anyway.

Sebastian should help you. He should be the one ripping that top off, the one dragging it up and over your head with shaking fingers and an aching hunger that’s been simmering under his skin for years.

But he doesn’t. He just watches as you pull it up slowly, revealing more, more, more.

His mouth goes dry.

Sebastian can’t stop looking.

You are a masterpiece.

Soft and plush, all curves and warmth, the kind of body meant to be touched, gripped, worshiped. The gentle rise and fall of your breath makes your stomach shift beneath the dim bedroom light, and fuck, he wants to put his hands there, feel the way your skin gives under his palms, kiss every inch of it. Your thighs—thick, full, fucking perfect—press against his thigh, and he thinks about spreading them, about feeling them squeeze around his waist, about sinking his teeth into them just to hear the way you’d gasp. Your hips, generous, tempting, made for his hands, make his fingers dig into the sheets, because all he can think about is gripping them, holding you down, guiding you. Your breasts, full and heavy, barely contained by the sheer lace of your bra, stretch against the fabric, making his vision tilt, his pulse hammer, his restraint fucking snap.

And then there’s everything else—the parts of you that make his chest ache, make his stomach tighten, make him wonder how the fuck he’s supposed to survive this. The stretch marks that paint your skin in soft, pale ribbons, evidence of time, of change, of life of a body that has existed beside him for years, growing, shifting, becoming something that was always beautiful but now feels like it was made for him. The softness that wasn’t there when you were younger, but grew with you, grew beside him, shaped by late-night drive-thrus, three too many beers, appetizers you never hesitated to share with him, the comfort of knowing you never had to shrink yourself. The dimples, the dips, the folds where your skin creases when you move, the evidence of a life fully lived, of a body that has only ever been yours—until now. Until him.

And you—you’re wearing a matching set. Black lace. Thin straps. Delicate details that don’t really hide a damn thing.

"Look at you," Sebastian says breathlessly, fingers tracing along the edge of your underwear, teasing. "Dressed up all pretty. You knew, didn’t you?"

You hum, lazily smug, shifting your hips just slightly, just enough to make his brain fucking short-circuit.

"Maybe," you murmur, biting your lip. "Maybe I wanted to be prepared."

Sebastian’s breath stutters, something deep, something dangerous curling in his gut, something possessive and wrecking and unbearable, because fuck—

Prepared? Did you know you were confessing him tonight? Did you get dressed for this moment? Or is he just filling your boyfriend's shoes?

His stomach twists, the thought curdling in his chest, bitter and raw, but then—

Does it matter? Because you're his now.

Sebastian leans in, pressing his mouth to the soft swell of your stomach, dragging his lips along your skin, his fingers curling into your thighs, his breath hot, his hands desperate.

“God, you have no fucking idea how much I love your body, do you?"

You make a wrecked little sound, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling.

Sebastian grins against your skin, dark and dangerous, pressing his lips lower, biting, sucking, making sure he leaves marks, making sure you feel exactly how much he’s wanted this.

You shift beneath him, breathless, giggling as your fingers find the hem of his shirt.

"Only fair," you murmur, tugging at the fabric, your voice teasing, expectant.

Sebastian huffs out a breathless laugh, shaking his head, but he lets you drag it up, lets you peel it off him, lets you look.

Because of course you should get to look.

He just wasn’t expecting to care so fucking much.

Call him arrogant, but he’s always known he’s good-looking. It’s never been a secret.

The wrong women (everyone but you) have always flocked to him like moths to a flame, drawn to the sharpness of his jaw, the cut of his smirk, the way he carries himself with an easy confidence that makes it seem like he never second-guesses a damn thing.

But this? This is different.

Sebastian never had trouble maintaining a trim figure back at Hogwarts, never gave it much thought beyond Quidditch and dueling and running from the consequences of his own goddamn actions. But adulthood claimed him differently, and that Sallow metabolism slowed to a crawl.

Sebastian is not lean.

And normally? That doesn’t bother him. Normally? He doesn’t care.

But right now, under your hands, under your gaze, in his bed—he does.

Because you’ve always been the most stunning fucking person he’s ever known. Because you could have anyone, and you always did.

Rugby players. Duellists. Healers who spend their breaks lifting weights instead of eating lunch. The kind of men who look like they were chiseled out of stone, sculpted into something untouchable, untouchable except for you—because you’ve had them.

Those were your exes.

And now here Sebastian is, broader, heavier in places they weren’t, softer in places they weren’t. Because he’s never been the type to count macros or meal prep or wake up at the ass crack of dawn to run five miles before work.

He’s still strong, sure—Auror training keeps him fit. But he’s also a man who doesn’t think twice about splitting a second plate of chips with you at dinner, who always finishes your leftovers because “wasting food is a crime”, who drinks pints after work without a second thought, who fills out his shirts more than he used to, who carries weight in his chest, his stomach, his thighs.

And now, here he is—bare in front of you. And you’re staring.

Sebastian wants to say something. Wants to make a joke, wants to shift your focus, wants to ignore the way something unsteady coils in his gut when your gaze drags over him—

Then you breathe out, soft, awed, wrecked.

"Fuck."

Sebastian freezes.

Your hands reach out, palms flattening against his chest, sliding over his skin, tracing down his stomach, your fingers pressing into the flesh there—

"You’re so fucking hot, Sebastian," you murmur, breathless, desperate, like you’re telling him the most obvious thing in the world.

He swallows, something rough and wrecked and disbelieving curling in his chest. "Yeah?"

You hum, dragging your hands back up his chest, your fingers tracing the freckles there, the muscle, the places where he’s softer than he used to be, pressing your lips just below his collarbone.

"Always have been," you hum. "But it's been really fucking unbearable the last few years."

Sebastian laughs, breathless, disbelieving, staring down at you like you just told him the sky is green, like you just shattered some fundamental truth about the universe.

Because fuck off—you’re serious? The last few years?

Oh. Oh. you have a thing for him like this—not when he was lean, not when he was a wiry, arrogant little shit back at Hogwarts, but now. Now, when he’s bigger, broader, heavier.

Something dark, something deeply satisfied, something possessive coils in his chest.

“Oh,” he smirks, his voice low, rough with amusement, with understanding, with something sharp and teasing. “So this is what you’re into?”

You blink up at him, your hands still roaming his chest, and fuck, you look ruined.

Sebastian lets out another low, rough chuckle, dragging his fingers down your body, spreading his weight over you, pinning you to the bed. He grabs your wrists, pressing them above your head, trapping them against the pillows.

“You mean to tell me,” he murmurs, lips hovering just above yours, teasing, testing, “that while you were off fucking all those blokes—”

You inhale sharply, your lips parting, your body arching subtly under him.

��—those assholes with their six-pack abs, the dueling champions, professional fucking athletes—”

You whimper softly, and fuck, he feels it. Feels the way your body reacts to him—not to them, not to some long-lost ex, not to your boyfriend, but to him, to his voice, to his weight pressing you into the mattress.

His grin turns wicked.

“You were picturing this?” he teases, his grip tightening just enough to make you shiver. "Me? All soft and heavy and fucking desperate for you?"

Your breath stutters, your thighs twitching against his hips.

Sebastian chuckles, dragging his lips back up to your ear, smirking when he feels the shiver that runs through you.

"And here I was, thinking I let myself go," he mutters.

Your breath hitches, but before you can say anything, he’s pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your throat, sucking a mark there, then another, and another, branding you, making sure you remember this, making sure you feel it.

Your wrists twitch in his grip, but he doesn’t let you move.

Sebastian fucking loves it. Loves the way you squirm, the way your lips part, the way your chest rises and falls in uneven little breaths, the way you’re looking up at him like you don’t even know how to handle what’s happening to you right now.

His smirk deepens. “Tell me, love,” he murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw, his teeth grazing your throat, “if this is what you wanted all along, why the fuck did you waste all that time with them?"

Your lips part, your expression flickering between dazed, ruined, and incredulous. And then you scoff.

"Because you weren’t fucking me, Sallow."

Sebastian freezes for a beat. Then two.

Then he laughs—low, rough, something almost mean curling at the edges of it. "No," he murmurs, dragging his lips down your throat, grazing his teeth against your pulse. "I wasn’t. But I am now."

You shudder beneath him, your body arching against his in some helpless, desperate little movement that goes straight to his cock.

"Impatient, are we?" he murmurs, smirking against your skin.

You huff a breathless laugh, hips shifting beneath him, fingers flexing in his grip. "You’ve made me wait ten years. Figure it out."

"You're not the only one who waited, you know—"

Sebastian barely gets the words out before you tug your hands free, fingers reaching for his jeans, already undone from your teasing in the car. And he should be savoring this—should be dragging this out, making you beg for it, for him, for all of it—but you're already shoving his jeans past his hips, and he loses the ability to think entirely.

Then your hand slips beneath the waistband of his briefs, and Sebastian’s entire body tenses, his breath catching as your fingers curl around the length of him, teasing, testing.

“Christ,” he exhales, shuddering, his forehead dropping to yours.

Your eyes flick up to his, and the way you look at him—blown pupils, parted lips, your expression equal parts fascinated and utterly fucking desperate—it makes his cock twitch in your grasp.

He can’t fucking handle this.

His fingers tighten on your thighs, his jaw clenching, his entire body burning with the effort it’s taking not to lose himself completely.

Sebastian grabs your wrist, halting your movements, his grip firm but gentle.

Your brows lift slightly, breathless.

“Seb?”

His smirk is wicked, possessive, completely wrecked. He leans down, dragging his nose along the curve of your jaw, his lips brushing your ear.

"If we're going to do anything," Sebastian exhales sharply. "We might as well fuck. Otherwise, this'll be over before it even starts."

“Oh,” you breathe, dragging your nails lightly down his stomach.

"We've waited ten years for this," he murmurs, dragging his tongue along your skin, feeling the way you shudder. His voice drops lower, rougher, teasing. "So let's make it worth our while."

Your breath catches, your nails pressing into his skin as you tip your head back against the pillow, blinking up at him like you’re still trying to process this moment—this night, this reality where you’re here beneath him, breathless and wanting, where he’s finally allowed to touch you like this.

And then you grin, a little dazed, a little breathless, completely wrecked already, and say:

“Holy shit, we’re actually about to fuck.”

You both freeze, eyes locking, and then you both start laughing, some combination of nerves and disbelief and a decade of waiting for this exact moment finally crashing down at once.

“God,” Sebastian mutters, shaking his head as he presses his forehead against yours, still grinning, still feeling that wrecked, desperate thing curling low in his stomach. “That’s what you have to say right now?”

You giggle, your fingers smoothing over his shoulders, down his chest. “I mean—come on, this is so surreal.”

Sebastian scoffs, nipping at your jaw, pressing a rough, open-mouthed kiss to your throat, humming when you shiver beneath him.

“Oh, I’ll make it real, love, don’t worry.”

And then he’s moving again, hands everywhere, fingers slipping beneath the lace of your bra, under the waistband of your thong, tugging the fabric down your shoulders.

His breath hitches as your breasts spill free, full and heavy and perfect, your soft curves shifting beneath him, and he can’t stop staring. He feels greedy, like he needs both hands, both lips, every fucking inch of him touching every fucking inch of you.

His fingers brush over the swell of them, thumbing over one hardened nipple, and you let out a soft, breathy little sound that nearly kills him on the spot.

And then your eyes flick down, your breath catching, because he’s still in his briefs, but they’re pointless at this point, and you can see exactly how fucking gone he is for you already.

Your lips part, eyes widening slightly, voice soft, awed, wrecked—

“Oh, fuck.”

Sebastian snaps his gaze up to you, brows lifting.

“What?”

You swallow, blinking at his broad chest, his stomach, his cock aching against the fabric.

“Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that my best friend is secretly built like a fucking god,” you say, laughing breathlessly, teasing, and yet completely, unabashedly honest.

Sebastian laughs, shaking his head like he can’t believe you. “Oh, I’ll remember that,” he says, voice thick with amusement, with something darker curling at the edges. “Next time you decide to insult me, I’ll remind you that you said that.”

You grin, tilting your head back against the pillow, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

“I mean,” you hum, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, “the evidence is pretty overwhelming.”

Sebastian groans, dropping his forehead to your shoulder for a second. "And here I thought you preferred the blokes built like Roman statues." He hums, dragging his lips lower, pressing open, slow kisses over your collarbone, between the swell of your breasts. “Should’ve known better, huh?” he murmurs, teasing, grinning against your skin. "Turns out my best mate likes them thick."

You huff a laugh, but it breaks into a whimper when he finally closes his lips around one pert, sensitive nipple, sucking, dragging his tongue over it, groaning when your back arches beautifully into him.

"Apparently," You mutter breathlessly, "You do too."

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he mutters, smirking, tracing the soft curve of your hip, gripping, kneading. “I've always known that. You've been ruining my life with it for years."

You meet his eyes, and your mouth curves into something downright sinful. “Yeah? So why the hell didn’t you do something about it sooner?”

Sebastian barely gets a breath in before you’re pushing him back, shifting your weight, twisting your body beneath him until he’s the one sinking against the headboard, his back hitting the pillows.

He exhales sharply, blown, wrecked, barely processing how fast you move—or the fact that you just fucking flipped him like that.

"Bossy little thing," he mutters, grinning, but his voice is hoarse, completely fucking ruined.

You straddle his thighs, pressing your hands into his chest, pinning him down like you’re making sure he doesn’t move.

And fuck. Sebastian just lets you. Lets you crawl over him, lets you drag your lips down his chest, his stomach, kissing and teasing and taking your fucking time.

He groans, his head tipping back, his hands twitching at his sides because he wants to touch you, wants to grip your hips, drag you back over him, but he doesn’t want to stop you, doesn’t want to break whatever the fuck this is.

His breath stutters when you press a slow, deliberate kiss over the curve of his hip, your fingers hooking into the waistband of his briefs, tugging, teasing.

Sebastian curses under his breath, his jaw clenched tight, his entire body drawn so tight with tension he thinks he might actually fucking die.

"Jesus," he mutters, his hands flexing at his sides.

You hum against his skin, dragging your nails over his stomach, over his thighs, soaking in the way his muscles twitch beneath you.

And then you drag his briefs down, past his hips, past his thighs, down enough to free him.

Sebastian groans, eyes slamming shut, jaw clenching as the cool air hits him, as he feels the weight of himself resting heavy against his stomach, already aching, already dripping for you.

And you just fucking stare, mouth parting slightly, eyes dragging down the length of him, slow, heavy-lidded, like you’re trying to process what you’re looking at.

Sebastian cracks one eye open, breath ragged, and he can’t help but smirk. His voice comes out low, rough, teasing—

“What is it?" He grins, tilting his head, watching the way your gaze flicks over him, the way you press your thighs together.

You exhale sharply, blinking like you need a second to find words.

“Oh, fuck.”

Sebastian laughs, full and deep, completely and utterly smug.

"Shit," you mutter, shaking your head slightly, still staring, like you're recalibrating your entire fucking world.

Sebastian grins, dragging a lazy hand down his stomach, wrapping his fingers loosely around himself, stroking once, slow, teasing.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" he murmurs, voice thick with wolfish amusement.

You snap your gaze up to his, glaring. "Fuck off." But your voice is breathless, wanting, wrecked.

Sebastian chuckles, tilting his head back, completely in love with the fact that you are absolutely, completely undone over him.

Then— then you lick your lips, and Sebastian stops fucking breathing.

You lean down, hands gripping his thighs as your tongue flicks over the head of his cock, licking up the sticky precum already there, your lips barely grazing the sensitive tip.

“Fuck,” Sebastian groans, his hands flying to your hair, fingers tightening, but you’re not done yet.

You swirl your tongue over him again, slow, deliberate, your nails dragging over his skin, and then—then you start mouthing off.

Because of course you do.

"You could have had me ten years ago, Sebastian," you murmur, voice low, teasing, sinful, your breath hot against his skin.

Sebastian grits his teeth, jaw clenching. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you hum, pressing one last, teasing kiss to the sensitive tip before dragging your gaze up to his face, smirking. "How the fuck could you be so blind to the fact I've been in love with you this whole time?"

Sebastian groans, fingers tugging at your hair, his body trembling with restraint.

"You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who’s got my cock in their mouth," he growls.

You laugh, fucking laugh, your tongue flicking over him again. "You really can’t take a little criticism, can you?"

Sebastian snaps.

"Alright," he mutters, voice low, rough, wrecked. "That’s enough."

Before you can get another word out, his hands are on you, gripping your hips, flipping you back beneath him.

You gasp, laughing breathlessly, but it’s cut off when he pins you down, his full weight pressing you into the mattress, his hand wrapping around your throat, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. Then—just to make sure you never forget who you belong to—

He spreads your legs, dragging his fingers down your stomach, between your thighs, feeling the heat of you, the slick, messy proof of how long you’ve needed this.

"Christ," he mutters, running his fingers through the wetness, spreading it over you, teasing you.

Your hips jerk into his touch, desperate, wanting, already completely undone. Sebastian grins, dark and satisfied, watching you unravel beneath him.

"Messy thing," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours as he drags his fingers up to himself, coating his cock in your wetness.

You practically purr beneath him, your thighs trembling against his hips, the heat of you slick and fucking ready for him.

This is it. Finally.

His fingers curl into the sheets beside your head, his cock dragging through the wet mess between your thighs, teasing, aligning, his vision tunneling, his entire existence narrowing down to the feeling of you, of finally having you—

And then your hand comes up. Soft. Trembling. Pressing against his cheek.

His gaze flickers down to yours. Sebastian stalls instantly. His brain short-circuits, muscles locking tight, because he knows that look.

He knows it in his bones.

Knows it in the way your fingers tremble against his cheek, in the way your lips part like you’re about to say something but don’t know how.

Shit. Wait. Are you having second thoughts? Are you saying no?

Sebastian’s stomach drops, panic flaring as he searches your expression, trying to push past the fog of lust, of need, of desperation—

But it’s not hesitation he finds. It’s something soft, something raw and pleading, and he feels it deep in his chest, where everything soft and aching for you lives.

“Sebastian,” you whisper, barely a breath, and fuck, his chest aches.

“What is it?” His voice is rough, hoarse, aching with restraint.

“If... if this is just for tonight,” you whisper, your voice small, fragile, like you’re saying it through the lump in your throat, “If this is just—if we’re just gonna wake up tomorrow and pretend it never happened, then I—” you pause, your voice breaking slightly. "I need you to tell me now."

And that—

That fucking shatters him. How can you not see it? The way he worships you, the way he’s been yours since he was fifteen fucking years old?

He exhales sharply, his grip tightening on your hip. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he tips your chin up, forcing you to see him, forcing you to understand. “You think I could have you like this and then just go back to how things were?”

Sebastian shakes his head, dragging his thumb over your cheek, over your lips, his brows pulling together.

“I’m not built like that, love.”

Your throat bobs, your breath shaky, uneven, your body still trembling beneath him.

He swallows, something breaking open inside his chest. “I’ve wanted you for nearly half my life,” he murmurs, pressing his lips against your temple, against your jaw, against the curve of your throat. “You really think I’d just let you go after this?”

A breathless, almost helpless noise escapes you, your fingers curling into his hair, gripping, holding on to him like you don’t know what else to do with yourself.

Sebastian groans, pressing more of his weight down into you, anchoring you, grounding you, making sure you fucking feel him.

"You’re mine," he breathes against your lips, possessive, reverent, certain in a way that leaves no room for doubt. "You're fucking mine, and I’m yours, and I don’t care how fucking long it took us to get here—I’m not fucking going anywhere. You understand?"

Your lips part, eyes flickering between his, something desperate and so fucking relieved blooming across your face.

"Thank fuck."

Then you pull him down to you, crashing your mouth against his, kissing him like he just fucking saved you. It's messy, all tongue and teeth and years of wanting, and his hands move without thinking—gripping, claiming, spreading you open for him

You whimper into his mouth when he grinds against you, his cock dragging through the wet mess between your thighs, slick and aching and so fucking ready for him.

You shift beneath him, thighs trembling, reaching down between your bodies, lining him up yourself, guiding him right where you need him.

Sebastian chokes on a breath, his head dropping to your shoulder, his fingers digging into your hips.

"Shit," he groans, voice breaking.

He can feel you, feel the heat of you, the wetness of you, and his brain blanks.

He’s done for.

Because this isn’t just sex.

This is everything.

This is forever.

[robinofgothamcity]

“I can show you that not all men are like that.”

Character: Damian Wayne/Robin

Authors note: most likely not reviewed for spelling errors or mistakes lmfao, this is more of a blurb tbh. In the middle of writing this, I caused a gigantic spill all over my side table and onto my carpet so I was over it lmfao. I’m sorry that it isn’t longer :( I hope all of you have a safe and exciting new years! Let’s hope 2025 treats everyone with happiness and respect <3

Being Jon’s best friend and longtime partner, it was easy to tell when Jon was distracted and other times, it was very easy to get distracted with him. Today was one of those days where you and Jon were just being menaces to everyone that was around the two of you. You had known Jon since you entered the league under Dinah’s wing. From that point, you and him stuck to each other which made it seem like the two of you were more of siblings than friends and when Damian walked into the picture, you knew that you hit a certain nerve every time you were being particularly loud and obnoxious.

You walked into the lair hoping that Jon would be there, under the guise of seeing if he had down some of the work done that the two of you shared for a college class. The two of you went to a local college in Smallville and even though you were both getting different degrees, required classes had the two of you stuck in general English class together.

“Damian!” You said as you noticed his boots at the door, “my lovely friend who admits to hating me but secretly doesn’t!” You sang as you walked into the common area. You saw that him looking through his computer, half annoyed and angry.

“Where’s Jon, I need him,” you finally said. Damian pointed at the computer that showed that Jon was out on a mission to which he didn’t tell either of you, “that little fucking rat, are you kidding me?” You said rhetorically, “he didn’t tell he was out on a mission for an entire week! We were assigned as partners this week,” you added on.

Damian scoffed, “who do you think got assigned to Gotham until he returns?” You pushed him out of the way as you read that you were assigned to do patrols with Damian until Jon came back to help you patrol Smallville. You stomped on the ground like an angry toddler realizing you’d be out of your house all week, “I could cry, who assigned me here and why didn’t they think to tell me?” You asked. Damian giggled as you realized that Jon must’ve put you in his place until he came back.

“Well, I guess I have to hang around here all week,” you said in a huff, “gut I guess there’s one good thing about this, you’ll be stuck with me!” You added as you turned around to Damian and started giggling.

By that point, Bart and Cassie walked in as she ran over to you, “did you go on the date with that guy from your accounting class?” She asked as she practically dragged you to the couch, “yeah but it was a blow. The typical college guy as you can expect except this time, the moron decided it’d be a good idea to leave me the bill from dinner and not come back.”

Damian, Bart, and Jaime who had walked down the stairs a few moments before stared at you in shock.

“What? I never said that my love life was skyrocketing in success,” you said in annoyance. Damian put his hand up to pause you, “you’re meaning to tell me the guy left you with the bill and left without a goodbye?” You nodded in agreement, still confused as to what he was trying to insinuate, “and this normal?”

You thought for a moment, “well, the last two guys, one stood me up before I could go on the date and the other guy ghosted me at the restaurant so technically this is a first for me,” you recalled. The boys, who were now hanging their heads in disappointment couldn’t help but sigh, “listen, this conversation was between Cas and I. Why are all of you so interested now?” You asked, popping in a piece of candy Bart had left on the table.

Cassie rolled her eyes as she looked back at you, “Well, what about Jon’s friend? Weren’t the two of you just texting?” You rolled your eyes, “he’s a nice guy but definitely just a friend. I think I’m doomed and there’s no love in my future.”

Before anyone else could say anything, your communicators had went off indicating that you and Damian were now scheduled to patrol. You went over to Damian and jumped on his back, instantly getting a shout from the boy, “do you ever think she’ll realize that Damian likes her?” Bart asked Cassie. Cassie laughed dramatically, “not in a million years unless something or someone makes it click in her head.”

-

It wasn’t often that you and Damian patrolled together and the times that you did, Jon was usually came along. You didn’t hate Damian but you could tell that he wasn’t exactly your biggest fan. You wondered if this was because of your relationship with Jon or if you were just too loud and obnoxious for his liking. You knew Damian barely tolerated Jon at first but the two of you had known each other for years now and it definitely seemed like there was a dislike from Damian to you.

“So, you go any other unfortunate dates to share to the class?” Damian mocked. You rolled your eyes, not in the mood to deal with his obnoxious attitude, “well, not that I’d ever share that with you but yes I do. I have a case of bad luck in the romance department,” you admitted hoping that he’d get off your case.

Damian didn’t say a thing for a moment.

“Well, what’s the worse?” He asked. You thought a few minutes until you started laughing in embarrassment and slight annoyance, “well, I can see why you’d make fun of me for this but I think the worst date I ever went on was last year. I matched with a guy on this app and we went out to dinner only for the idiot to not realize that his girlfriend’s best friend worked at the restaurant. In my defense, I clearly didn’t realize that he was cheating on her with me so you can imagine the look I had on my face when the girl smacked him and proceeded to berate him in front of the entire restaurant.”

Damian stared at you in shock, not really knowing what to say.

“I thankfully got off lucky when I told her that I didn’t know he was cheating but it was still embarrassing nonetheless,” you continued. Damian looked into the alley, hoping that no one heard what he was about to say. Damian sighed knowing what he was about to say was coming out like word vomit, “well, I can show you that not all men are like that.”

You gave him a look of confusion.

“Listen, I know I haven’t been the nicest to you and you’re not that stupid to not realize it,” you flicked him in the forehead as he continued, “but I figured I’d rather be the one to show you that some men are actually good out there.”

“Wait, this isn’t you pitying me, is it? Because if it is, I’m going to kick you ass,” you said taking out your baton and swinging it in the air. Damian lowered the baton and gave you a sincere look, “I’m not kidding. Tomorrow after patrol, we can switch shift with Tim and Steph and I’ll take you out.”

You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

“If you end up backing out last minute, Batman is going to be down a son.”

Damian flicked you on the forehead as he assured you that this time, maybe you weren’t going to be so unlucky.

[withlove-xixi]

idk if youre taking requests for one piece but if you are can i request for zoro with an s/o who moves around a lot in their sleep? thank you so much!

— ZORO THOUGHTS: zoro x reader who moves in their sleep

ᥫ cw: none ★ HAI ANONIE!! i love this idea so much omg ?!@#?? thank yew for the req eheheheh!!!

ah, god's sleepiest soldier, roronoa zoro... it's amazing that the man can sleep anywhere at anytime, it's scary almost. it's like he could sleep through the worst of storms and earthquakes. but he's a very still sleeper. he hardly moves to the point you'd think he was dead... the most he moves is a slight, very occasional tousle around, a short roll to his side as he searches for something to hold onto in his sleep. he's found that something to be you, god's second sleepiest soldier. at first people thought you were a good match for each other, two people who could match each other's sleep, if you will. but then the crew realized that you .. are a very messy sleeper. they could watch you go to sleep laying straight on your back with your arms on either side of you and could wake up seeing you half-splayed across the floor.

they were worried at first if anything. zoro was a cuddler, while he didnt necessarily need to hold onto something at night, it was something he preferred. so when you became his preferred thing to cling onto as he slept, the crew was worried you might've somehow pushed zoro off his hammock, or maybe zoro's patience would've quickly run thin and you two would have some sort of fight.

really, it was the exact opposite. see, on top of zoro being a very still sleeper, he's a very heavy sleeper too. it doesnt matter how much you squirm or wiggle around in your sleep, zoro is NOT waking up lmao. besides that, zoro's got a sort of iron grip on you once he falls asleep, arms strong enough to keep you somewhat in place as you two slept. if he's got his arms wrapped around your waist then that's the only part of you that stays still, you'd bend and roll around as much as you can, but zoro's going to have you glued to him someway somehow.

though, it does get a bit annoying, for zoro at least. one time he woke up to find you had somehow flipped over with your feet to his face, he has no idea how you did it and neither do you tbh. it's another reason why he holds you so close when you sleep. it's somewhat evolved to the point where zoro pulls you on top of him when you two sleep. again he doesnt mind the squirming but he wouldnt want you to wake up in a strange position lol

[amphitriteswife]

Can you please write for Gun with a female reader who used to be his fiancé back in his yakuza days?.He somewhat used to care for her but he was always busy with fighting and gaining his father's approval. Reader is a soft and caring person, she always disliked violence and wanted to live a peaceful life so she requested him to break up with her. He agreed with her cause he didn't had any feelings for her back then. Then she left for Korea and now goes to J High. One day she met gun when he was crystal's bodyguard and gradually he falls in love with her after seeing how soft and kind she is towards him despite his personality. He tries to convince her to become his fiancé again. But she doesn't want to cause of all the bad things he did to so many people. (Bonus points if DG/Goo or any other character also falls in love her 💥)

Omggg yessss i totally see this. I hope i did this right since you’re my first request for Lookism😭🙏

Black and pink

Pairing: Jonggun x reader

Source: Lookism

Warnings: love triangle, break ups, gun’s past tbh.

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~

One could argue that your life without jonggun was way better and happier. He was handsome, strong, rich and most importantly: skilled. He was quite the catch. Despite his Korean name, he was half Japanese and born into the Yamazaki clan. A powerful family in Japan who had skilled members, and jonggun was considered one of them. You were his fiancée, the spotlight, the princess, the next equal who would marry him. The opinions were divided, one could say you were pitiful for marrying such a man. The other could say you should be grateful for even grazing his presence. And the other could say that they should’ve chosen someone else. Even though there was so much criticism and comments, there was one thing everyone could agree on: you had a lot of potential. His own family, well his mother and his uncle Shintaro, thought it was a good idea. Everyone had their opinions, yet no one regarded your feelings. Not your own family, not his, not Jonggun and most certainly the head of the Yamazaki clan. You expected Jonggun to be in the same boat and in a way he was. Yet he was too much for you. Too viscous. Too violent. Too cruel. Too chaotic. But what certainly was a deal breaker was the fact that he desired his father’s approval above anything else. It was quite stupid if you’ll be honest. He was chasing something so far and unreachable. It was unrealistic and because of that he also influenced your life as his fiancée. The many troubles and conflicts, the many challenges and arguments, the chaos and expectations. It was all too much. It interrupted the life you wanted for yourself. Even though you might have cared about him, it was time to put yourself and your own happiness first. That’s why you didn’t hesitate to break when you told him you didn’t want to be with him anymore. He himself agreed to it without many hesitation too, he didn’t see any need in continuing the relationship anyway. He found you too soft, too kind and too caring for his taste.

Now that you have moved past jonggun and being his fiancé, you found a new fresh start in Korea. Going to J-high and gradually having an overall positive life. You had made new friends at the high school, and the study you were doing was way easier than living up to all the rough expectations in the past. You were free. Free to make your own choices and who you interacted with. Coincidentally, you met a nice boy in your class named Daniel who had a very big friend group, the group always made you feel welcomed and didn’t judge you for anything.

One faithful day when you were meeting with the friend group, you met a girl named Crystal. She was very nice and pretty too. She disclosed to the friend group that she had a bodyguard who was going to take her home. None of the people in the group, including you thought anything of it. He usually kept his distance and let Crystal do her own thing. Only when things turned bad did he intervene to beat someone’s ass who wanted to harm Crystal. He was very professional and often just kept quiet. You weren’t stupid and knew who it was, but kept it to yourself to avoid him as much as possible. Often you could find him staring at something, or to be specific: someone. But who are you to say anything? He was wearing sunglasses and it wasn’t like you were the only thing in his vision. Maybe he had his eyes on Crystal to make sure she was in no harm? It is his job after all.

A few days after meeting Crystal, Daniel offered to spent some time at the beach since the school year was ending in a few weeks. Daniel invited Crystal too since she is also a part of the friend group, what made you quite exited as Zoe and Mira really already had a whole plan with all the girls, and girls only. The boys however protested, excluding only some of them. Zack who immediately agreed and nodded his head along with Mira. Jay didn’t seem to care much and trusted his sister and not do anything irrational. Daniel only found it a pity, but didn’t seem to bothered and brushed it off as something normal.

During the day, the girls and boys eventually came together. Jay and Daniel were having a good time in the water, but accidentally splashed Crystal who scolded them. Zoe was standing with Jay’s sister and admiring Daniel’s shirtless body. Next to them was also Zack, who was gushing about Mira who gave him ice cream. They all seemed to be busy which gave you some time to yourself. It’s not like you hated hanging out, sometimes you just needed a break or to catch a breath. During one of the times you stepped away from the group to go to one of the bathrooms in the restaurants. On your way walking there you got a text message from a number you didn’t save just in case. ‘Hey. Let’s meet up in a little while. I managed to get some time off.’ Is what the text read. You thought for a moment to see if you would be free. Spending a little time wouldn’t hurt as you hadn’t seen him in a long time. It wasn’t too serious right now, but from his reaction and the fact he often kept in touch even with his busy schedule, he clearly was interested.

You were on the brink of texting him back before you felt a hand softly placed on your shoulder, despite the soft touch, the hand itself felt very rough. You turned your head a little to glance at the person behind you, only to find out it was none other than Jonggun park. Once again, life decided to play games with you by meeting a person you tried to move on from. You spun around and to face him and couldn’t help but breathe out an irritated sigh. Jonggun on the other hand had a neutral face, there wasn’t much to see aside from his lips anyway as he always wore a pair of sunglasses. ‘Do you remember me?�� Is the first thing he asked you. It’s a stupid question since the you were pretty sure that you had recognized him from the start. You just nodded your head at his question, not wasting any of your breath on something so unnecessary, this made Jonggun chuckle a bit before his hand moved to your waist. He didn’t seem to care much about what you felt, but only what he felt. Typical for him. ‘Take me back.’ It was more a statement or a demand than a question. Before you could even give an answer he explained to you about how he had observed you in the last few times you met up with Crystal. He told you how he loved you. He loves the way you seem so forgiving, so peaceful, you’re adoring happy smile, your kind nature and caring side. It’s all so appealing to him and it made him so intrigued. Funny isn’t it? He loves you for the same reasons he once pushed you away. It’s almost laughable.

‘Sorry. I’m already seeing someone.’ Is what you told him straight to the point. Jonggun could feel his face harden and his jaw clenching. You were seeing someone? Without even regarding how he felt about it? Why the hell were you even seeing someone in the first place? You should’ve only had eyes for him. He didn’t like it and it was easy to see on his face too. ‘You’re stupid. Telling me you love me? Go to hell. You once disliked me for the exact same reason you now tell me you love me for? Bullshit.’ This seemed to stun him a bit as he didn’t even say anything to you, probably to frozen because of your reasoning or the fact he was rejected in his life once again. Despite his stunned body language, you could still feel the hands on your hips which caused you to back off…that was until you bumped into someone. The chest of the person felt firm yet a little hard. Which was weird since this was a woman’s bathroom and the only man here was jonggun. Jonggun on the other hand gritted his teeth at the person behind you and scoffed. ‘Looks like you had your chance hmm? Let’s not fight and make it a cliffhanger for the 3rd time.’

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Saturday rolls around, and Karasu finally takes you on that date he promised you. Continuation of Five Ways to Kill a Crow! (part three here!)

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.9k

Content Warnings: reader and karasu are sickeningly down bad for one another but that does NOT stop them from bullying each other when necessary, karasu is never beating the simp allegations though, lowkey hiori slander (in line with the light novel), reader has a protective father, karasu is a good bf tbh, crow boy is thrown into the water (affectionately)

A/N: KARASU ANON THIS ONE IS FOR YOU!! i will post the rest of your requests once i write them hehe i love this man so trust i will be getting all of them done asap.

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own. now closed!

Staring at the pile of rejected clothes by the foot of your bed, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. It was Saturday, and Karasu was supposed to be at your house in an hour, but for the life of you, you could not figure out what you wanted to wear on your date. It didn’t help that he was being so secretive about where you were going; when you had texted him asking about the dress code, he told you that anything was acceptable and then refused to elaborate. Apparently, according to him, you looked fine in whatever you wore and you were stressing out for no reason.

“Stupid Karasu,” you muttered, picking up your phone and deciding it was time for your absolute last resort. You hadn’t wanted to go to her, because if you asked for her advice, you’d also have to listen to the speech that would inevitably accompany it, but at this point, you were out of options. Before you could chicken out, you clicked on your best friend’s contact, video calling her and waiting for her to pick up.

She did so almost immediately, though she was very clearly in the middle of a workout, judging by her red face and the sweat dripping down her forehead. Recently, she was going through a phase where she spent at least half an hour on the treadmill everyday, and it seemed you had caught her at a bad time. Regardless, she grinned at you.

“Hey, Y/N!” she huffed out. “I was just about to text you, actually, so this is good timing.”

“Not now,” you said. “I’m having a code-red emergency.”

“What’s up?” she said. “Will going bowling with us and a couple of the guys later tonight help with it? That’s what I was going to invite you to. Don’t worry, Karasu already said he can’t go, so things won’t be awkward or anything.”

“Unfortunately, I’m busy tonight,” you said. “I’m going on a date — that’s why I called you, actually. I need outfit advice. I’ve never been on a date before, so I have no idea what to wear!”

“A date?” she shrieked before looking around, obviously embarrassed that she had reacted in such a way at her public gym. “I mean, a date? With who? Is it that guy I was telling you about, the one who thought he might have a chance with you now that you and Karasu had ‘broken up’ or whatever?”

“No,” you said. “Please, I have standards. You may think they’re absurdly low, but they do exist.”

“Then who?” she said. 

“So, funny story,” you said, wincing and bracing yourself for the incoming lecture. “It’s actually with Karasu.”

There was a silence, but you knew that it was deceiving. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to react; rather, she was gathering her thoughts, processing the information she had received, and preparing her reaction.

“Karasu?” she said. “Like Tabito Karasu? Soccer player Tabito Karasu? Your ‘mortal enemy’ who you’re ‘so glad is finally leaving you alone’ Tabito Karasu? The one who you refused to talk to because you found him immature? You’re going on a date with him? And it’s tonight?” 

“Spot on,” you said. “That’s why I need your help picking my outfit—”

“No, no, hold on just a second. How long has this been going on?” she said.

“Look, I don’t have time for this. He’s going to be here in an hour, and I’m just standing around in a bathrobe!” you said.

“Okay, show me the options while you talk,” she said. Figuring you weren’t going to get out of it, you flipped the camera so she could see the few choices you had settled on as you began to speak.

“One of his soccer teammates came to me on Wednesday and helped me realize what I had done wrong. Then he invited me to their game that evening, so I went to watch them. Once the game was over, I found Karasu and apologized to him, after which he asked me to go to dinner with him on Saturday — meaning, today,” you said.

“You’ve had plans with Karasu since Wednesday and you didn’t tell me? Also, option two is my favorite. It’ll highlight your figure the best, I think, but it doesn’t look like it’ll be super uncomfortable, and it doesn’t give the impression that you’re trying too hard. Perfect for a first date! Although, considering he’s only really seen you in the school uniform, I’m pretty sure anything you could wear would impress him,” she said.

“You make it sound like I lied to you about it! I just wasn’t sure if I should tell you or not. I mean, it’s not like we’re officially going out or anything. It’s just one date, and it could go horribly wrong. Most likely it will, considering how things between us tend to go,” you said. “Also, thanks! That one was my favorite, too, but I needed the second opinion, and I wasn’t about to go ask my parents for help.”

“Sure, anytime. So what, were you planning on only mentioning it after the fact?” she said.

“Pretty much,” you said.

“You’re so annoying. I need live updates as they happen, not days later!” she said.

“Okay, okay, I promise I’ll keep you posted from now on,” you said, setting your phone down so you could get changed. “Happy?”

“Super happy. I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Karasu, though. No, actually, I can, because I’ve been shipping you guys together from the start, but it’s unreal that you’re finally giving in and doing it! It’s like a dream come true,” she said.

“You’re seriously strange,” you said. “Like I said, don’t expect much. The most I’m hoping for is a free meal.”

That was a lie. You really, really wanted it to go well. You just thought that, if you squealed and gushed about it with your best friend, you would, in a way, jinx it. And you couldn’t afford that, not when you had only just gotten him back, so you did your best to maintain a nonchalant exterior, even though internally, you were freaking out.

“Uh-huh, sure. If you guys get married, I better be the maid of honor! I have such a good speech planned. You’re not ready,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m fucking not! We haven’t even gone on one date yet, why are you already planning our wedding?” you said.

“I’m a bit of a romantic,” she said with a dreamy sigh. “Hey, if things work out between you two, do you think that you can set me up with one of his soccer friends? Besides Karasu, there’s no one attractive at our school, and of course he’s always been yours, so I’ve never even looked twice at him, but I’ll really be jealous if you have a boyfriend and I’m all single and lonely!”

“Sure,” you said. “I’ll talk to him about it, though, you know, even if it doesn’t work out, you could probably ask him yourself. Aren’t you guys kind of friends?”

“Not close enough for me to ask him to set me up with anyone, and definitely not close enough for me to keep talking to him if he wrongs you in any way!” she said.

“What if I wrong him?” you said, only half-joking. You were more terrified of that, of wronging Karasu, than anything. After all, the last falling out had been your fault, and although he had assured you that he didn’t hold it against you, you still worried that you might one day say something that drove him away from you forever.

“Nah, that’s impossible. You’re always right, Y/N!” she said. “Don’t worry so much. Go have fun! Like you said, you’ll get a meal out of it either way. Whatever else happens, happens. How about this — tomorrow, let’s get brunch together. That way, if things go badly, you still have something to look forward to, and if they go well, you have someone you can ramble to.”

“That sounds good,” you said.

“Yay! Okay, see you then! Don’t text me too many details unless it’s an emergency; I want to be surprised tomorrow by the full story,” she said.

“Thanks for the help,” you said, blowing her a kiss through the screen. “Enjoy the rest of your workout!”

“Will do!” she said, hanging up and leaving you with just enough time to finish getting ready before Karasu was supposed to arrive.

When you got downstairs, the first thing your mother did was clap. This gained the attention of your father, who nodded at you in a crisp, paternal way which meant he approved but was too emotional to say it. 

“You look beautiful, honey!” your mother said, pretending to wipe away a tear. “I can’t believe my baby is going on her first date.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said, rubbing your arm. “Do you really think I look nice?”

“Yes,” your father said, pausing the soccer match he was watching. “What’s that young man’s name, again? Kimitsu? I expect him to come inside and greet us before taking you out, like a proper gentleman would.”

“It’s Karasu,” you said. “And no, why would he waste his time doing that?”

“Nowadays, the youth just text one another once they’ve arrived,” your mother said sagely. “I watched a video about it on social media.”

“That’s appalling,” your father said with a sneer. 

“He’s not an appalling guy, father, it’s just more convenient that way,” you said. 

“If he can’t even push aside his own convenience to do something so simple, then how can he be a proper boyfriend?” your father said. “You deserve someone who goes above and beyond.”

“That’s true,” your mother said. “But social conventions and whatnot have changed. You can’t expect him to do something he doesn’t even know that he should do.”

“He should’ve been born with the knowledge,” your father griped. You rolled your eyes.

“Father, please just give him a chance,” you said. “Anyways, it’s only one date. There’ll be plenty of time for whatever you’re talking about later, if it even progresses to that point.”

Your father opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a firm knock. Your parents exchanged looks before glancing at you in surprise; you shrugged, equally as taken aback as they were. All three of you crept towards the foyer, your mother shoving you forward and then drawing back to stand beside your father, giving you an encouraging thumbs up as you brushed yourself off and then opened the door. 

Karasu was waiting there, a bouquet of pale pink and white tulips in his right hand. When he noticed you standing before him in shock, he blushed slightly, shoving them into your arms and thumping his fist lightly atop your head in reprimand.

“I brought these for you, idiot,” he said. “I hope you like them. I had my sister help me pick them out so that they were perfect.”

The thought of him going to buy flowers with his older sister was oddly endearing. Maybe it was the fact that he had gone to such lengths for such a simple gesture, or maybe it was the way he was standing so stiffly, like he wasn’t sure whether you’d be pleased or not, but something about the gift made you relax upon its receival. He was nervous, too; it wasn’t just you who was scared about messing up. You and Karasu, you were in this together, and you thought that it was a little bit easier to stomach if it was like that.

“They’re really pretty,” you said. “I love them. Would you like to come inside while I put these in a vase? If you want, you can meet my parents. They’re kind of intense, though, so apologies if they say something strange.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, stepping in behind you. Your parents immediately pretended like they hadn’t been eavesdropping, your mother busying herself with rubbing at an imaginary smudge on the mirror propped up against the far wall, your father straightening one of the paintings hanging by the door. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Tabito Karasu.”

“Kimitsu, eh?” your father said, puffing out his chest threateningly. Unfortunately, given Karasu’s height and impressive musculature, it was incredibly hard for almost anyone to seem threatening compared to him; thankfully, Karasu did not point this out, only smiling politely and offering your father his hand to shake.

“No, sir, it’s Karasu. Like the bird,” he said. Your father shook his hand warily, and before you could die from the secondhand embarrassment, you escaped to the kitchen, pulling out a vase from one of the cabinets and filling it with water so that you could put the flowers in it.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself quite a catch there,” your mother said, joining you in the kitchen. “He’s handling himself quite admirably in front of your father. And he even brought you flowers!”

“He did, didn’t he?” you said, admiring the splayed out bouquet. “They really are nice.”

“He did a good job picking them out,” your mother agreed.

“Him and his sister,” you corrected her. She tilted her head.

“It’s nice to see that he values her opinion. That tells me that he’ll probably value yours, too, if things between you two ever get serious,” she said.

“They’ll never get serious if father chases him off right here and now, though,” you said, taking one last look at the flowers and smiling to yourself. “I should probably go rescue him.”

“Agreed,” your mother said. 

You were expecting the worst when you returned to the foyer, but to your surprise, it was a heartwarming scene you walked in on. Karasu was leaning against the door, telling your father some story with great animation, and by the looks of it, your father was completely invested in the tale, his initially hostile posture replaced with his typical laid-back slouch. As soon as he noticed your re-entrance, Karasu paused, prompting your father to look over at you.

“Y/N!” your father said. “Karasu here was just telling me about how he started playing soccer. You didn’t tell me he was the captain of Bambi Osaka!”

“I didn’t think that it was relevant,” you said. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve mentioned it; your father loved watching soccer, and there was no doubt in your mind that he would’ve been much more receptive to Karasu if he had known that the boy was so talented at his preferred sport.

“We’ll have to continue this conversation at another time, sir,” Karasu said. “And please, if you ever want to come to one of our games, let me know. I’ll make sure you get good seats. Captain’s privileges and all.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” your father said, though he was obviously delighted by the offer.

“I insist. Anything for Y/N’s family,” he said. You made a face at him behind your father’s back; when your father turned to look at you, you schooled your expression into a sweet smile, discreetly flipping Karasu off when he responded in kind and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Have a great time, alright?” your father said. “Don’t get back too late.”

“Text us if you need anything!” your mother said.

“Will do,” you said. “Come on, Karasu, let’s go, or else you’ll be stuck talking to my father about soccer for hours.”

You dragged him over to his car as he waved at your parents, who waved back. Only when the front door of your house was shut did you allow yourself to flick him on the forehead, causing him to whine and clutch the affected area dramatically.

“What was that for?” he said, opening the door to the passenger side and motioning for you to get in.

“You’re such a suck-up,” you said. “I can’t believe you talked to my father about your soccer journey for that long.”

“I want them to like me!” he protested. “Anyways, your dad’s a pretty cool guy. I can’t lie, I was kind of intimidated at first, but I think he warmed up to me in the end.”

“He definitely did, and you’re some kind of magician for that,” you said, still in disbelief that he had managed to charm both of your parents so thoroughly and in such a short time. “Also, flowers, really?”

“You said you liked them,” he said. “Did you not?”

“Of course I liked them!” you said. 

“Then why are you complaining?” he said.

“I’m not complaining. I’m just taken aback, that’s all. Sure, I’ve never been on a date or anything before, but from what I’ve heard from my friends who have, the first ones tend to not be quite so…nice? Nice, yeah, I think that’s the word,” you said.

“To be fair, their first dates were probably also their first times actually meeting their partners,” he said. “On the other hand, we’ve known each other for years, so it’s a little different. More importantly, what do you mean when you say you’ve never been on a date?”

“I guess this is why you’re not number one in Modern Literature,” you said with an over-exaggerated sigh. “You see, when I say I’ve never been on a date, what I mean by that is I have not, in fact, gone on a date with anyone before. Should I explain it in simpler language so that it’s more on your level? Me no date. Me single forever.”

“That’s embarrassing,” he said.

“Okay, Mr. Playboy,” you said. “What, do you go on dates every weekend or something? Next you’ll tell me you buy all of them flowers, too. And here I was, feeling special.”

“Nope, I’ve never been on a date either, but it’s different,” he said.

“Why?” you said.

“Because I’ve just never asked someone,” he said. “I’ve liked the same girl since middle school, so I didn’t see the point in going on dates with anyone else. For you, though, it’s just because no one ever asked you.”

“How do you know I didn’t just reject everyone that asked?” you said.

“Did you?” he said.

“No,” you admitted. “No one asked.”

He snorted. “Like I said. Embarrassing.”

“Hey! It’s your fault, so quit it with the smug act,” you said.

“How is it my fault?” he said. “Oh, wait, is it because of the rumors that we’ve been dating for years now?”

“Yup,” you said. “People were way too scared of you to approach me.”

“Good,” he said with a smirk. “That means I did my job well.”

“Hold on,” you said, his earlier comment finally registering in your mind. “Since middle school? Who the hell have you liked for that long, and why didn’t you just ask her out sooner? It’s a little sad that you didn’t.”

“You’d think, given your grades, that you’d be bright in real life, too, but I can see that that’s not the case,” he said. “Obviously, I’m talking about you. Why else would we be going on a date right now?”

“Oh, right,” you said. “Holy shit. You’ve liked me for that long?”

He turned redder and redder with each passing second, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he slunk down in his seat. You watched him in amusement, finding the shyness — which contrasted so harshly with his typically loud personality — to be sweet, in the same way a baby animal learning to walk was.

“Shut up,” he said.

“You should’ve said something,” you said. 

“Considering how set you were on hating me, I don’t think that it would’ve done much if I had. Ironically, as hurtful as it was for you to fall all head over heels for that Yukimiya guy, it was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me, because it somehow made you realize that you don’t absolutely despise me. I’ll have to thank him if we ever meet,” he said.

“You do that,” you said, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. “Although, if you’re in the business of thanking people, you should reach out to Hiori first. He did you a favor, even if he had an admittedly unorthodox method of going about it.”

“He’s kind of an interesting little guy, don’t you think?” Karasu said. “Like, I want to study him and figure out how his mind works.”

“Aw, don’t be mean,” you said. “He was really sweet.”

“I’m not saying it in a bad way! Besides the fact that he pretty much hates soccer, which is ironic given that he plays for one of the best youth clubs in the country, he’s relatively harmless. It’s just that the way he goes about things is so peculiar, and I feel like I need to know what the thought process behind his decision-making is,” he said.

“That’s fair,” you said. “He told me he’s been observing you.”

“He tried to follow me home one day,” he said. “It was freaky. I thought I was going to get robbed.”

“No way! I thought he was going to rob me, too!” you said.

“Guess that’s an alternative career path for him, if being an athlete doesn’t work out,” Karasu mused.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “Maybe he has a rough home life and doesn’t know any better. You should be kind.”

“What? I am kind! I’m super kind! Why do you think he’s so interested in me? It’s because of the kindness that radiates off of me in waves!” he said. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye in disbelief.

“That’s not kindness radiating off of you, that’s the scent of your hair gel,” you said. “Speaking of which, Karasu, I bet you’d look so handsome without it. Please stop. For me.”

“Just because you said that, I’m going to put on even more the next time I see you,” he said haughtily. “And for your information, it is hair wax. Not gel.”

“Right, because the difference between the two is astounding,” you said. “My deepest and sincerest apologies. I’ll do better next time.”

“Good,” he said.

“So,” you said after a moment. “Where are we going, exactly? You refused to tell me, so I had to make an educated guess with my outfit. I hope it’s okay.”

Luckily, the light turned red, so he could stop and look you over with a critical eye. He must’ve been satisfied by whatever he saw, as he hummed in approval and returned his attention to the road, just in time for it to turn green again.

“Yeah, you look pretty,” he said. “And I didn’t tell you because it’s a surprise. You’ll like it, though.”

“I hope so. I turned down a bowling trip for this,” you said.

“I turned that trip down, too,” he said.

“True,” you said. “Oh, wait, this is only tangentially related, but since we’re on the topic of our friends…are any of your hot soccer buddies single?”

“What?” he said, voice turning high-pitched momentarily. “Why would you ask that?”

“My best friend is in the market,” you said.

“I see,” he said, once again speaking in his normal tone. You blinked in confusion before deciding it wasn’t even worth questioning him. “Most of them are single, but they’re not the type I’d let within fifty feet of any girl I knew, so it’s your call whether or not that’s the kind of person you want to set her up with.”

“Absolutely not,” you said.

“I’ll keep an eye out in the future, though,” he promised you. “Wanna play music?”

“I can. What do you like?” you said.

“Anything you like,” he said. Not up to arguing, and also having a sinking suspicion that his music taste was probably something obscure and nigh-unlistenable, you decided you might as well put your own playlist on shuffle in the hopes that he at least liked some of the songs.

The two of you were driving for a while, mostly listening to the music you were playing and occasionally commenting on whatever interesting things you zoomed past. Sometimes, if a song you both recognized came on, you’d scream the lyrics at one another, each trying to outcompete the other for who knew the song best, but it was a lighthearted form of disagreement, more fun than anything. 

In fact, you were actually sad when you reached the parking lot and he pulled into a spot, turning off the car and getting out so that he could open your door for you. You had enjoyed the drive so much that you had forgotten you actually had plans to go to dinner, so you could not help feeling a little disappointed — well, right up until you looked around at the scenery and let out a gasp.

The restaurant was by the ocean, and the seating was in an open patio, the ceiling lined with twinkling lights and flowers blooming in hanging pots. The tables were covered in white tablecloths, and the water was so close that you could hear the steady way it lapped against the sand, the soft hush-hush sound far superior to any random pop song you could’ve turned on.

“I don’t know what to say,” you said as you followed Karasu into the restaurant. He offered you his hand, and you took it immediately, your fingers fitting perfectly between his. “How did you find this place? I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Believe me, I do,” he said with a scoff. “Excuse me? We have a reservation for two. The name is Karasu.”

“Right this way,” the hostess said, beckoning you after her, leading you both to a secluded table in the corner, which was decorated like the rest with a candle and a rose in a jar serving as the centerpiece. You sat across from Karasu and accepted the menu that the hostess handed you, leafing through it and considering what you wanted to order.

“If you do, then why’d you pick here of all places?” you said.

“Because. Do you remember last year, when all of us were eating lunch together and we had that debate about what the best first date would be like?” he said.

“Vaguely?” you said, wracking your brain, trying to pinpoint the exact day he was talking about. “Oh, wait, yeah!”

It was uncharacteristically warm out, and so your friends had insisted on eating in the courtyard. Sadly, this meant that you had to beg Karasu and his group to let you sit with them, as they always managed to get the best tables before anyone else could. That day, it seemed that you were in luck — Karasu only glanced at you before nodding and telling you that it was fine if you wanted to join them.

Somehow, the conversation turned to dating and romance. One of Karasu’s teammates was going on a date for the first time, and now all of you were giving your two cents about what you thought the perfect first date ought to be.

“Definitely not a movie,” your best friend said adamantly. “You can’t get to know someone if you’re watching a movie the whole time. It’s totally unromantic and an absolute turnoff. If a guy asked me to go to the movies with him on a first date, I’d say no.”

“Harsh, but fair,” one of Karasu’s friends said. “Going out for coffee is pretty popular nowadays, isn’t it? It’s easy to leave, too, so if things aren’t going great, you can just pay and get out.”

“Getting coffee wouldn’t be horrible,” your best friend said. “Though I feel like it shows a lack of planning and effort.”

“I agree,” you chimed in. “I would like to go for a nice dinner. It would be really special if it was by the ocean — I mean, I love the beach, so I think a guy taking me there would show me that he’s really serious about me and pays attention to the things I say.”

“How would he pay attention to the things you say if you’ve never met before? This is a first date, remember?” your best friend said.

“I can’t see myself dating somebody without being friends with them beforehand,” you said, shaking your head. “I’d want to know what kind of person they are before ever agreeing to pursue something further. So, given that constraint, they should know things about me like my fondness for the sea, and if they don’t, then they obviously aren’t someone who I’d want to be with.”

“You aren’t even friends with any guys,” Karasu said, speaking up for the first time in that insufferable voice of his. You scowled at him; he grinned and held his hands up in the air. “Just saying. Where do you think this magical dude who knows you like the ocean and wants to take you to dinner is going to manifest from? Outer space?”

“I’m sure one day I’ll meet someone who fits my criteria, and then things will go splendidly. You see, for me, it’s a scarcity issue — there just isn’t anyone around here who I’d ever want to date, so I don’t even bother hoping it’ll happen,” you said.

“Nobody? There’s not a single guy at this school you’d go out with?” he said.

“Not willingly,” you said.

“Jeez,” he said. “Tough customer. You need to be prettier to have standards like that.”

“Ugh, you are just the worst!”

“You told me I wasn’t pretty enough to have standards as high as mine are,” you recalled. “Rude.”

“That’s the only thing you can think of? Really?” he said.

“Well…” You bit the inside of your cheek, acting as if you were fascinated by the menu. “I seem to have said something about wanting to go for dinner by the beach for a first date.”

“Mhm,” he said. “You said it would show you that a guy is really serious about you and pays attention to the things you say if he did something like that.”

“Are you?” you said.

“Am I what?” he said.

“Really serious about me,” you said. “Obviously you pay attention to things I say, but what about the first part?”

He furrowed his brow at you. “No, not at all.”

“Huh?” you said.

“I’m joking,” he said, nudging your leg under the table with his own. “Do you think I would’ve gone to all of this trouble if I wasn’t? Hurry up and pick what you want to eat. It’ll be so weird if the waitress comes and you don’t know what you want.”

You would’ve argued, but you were too busy feeling giddy about his confession, so you complied with his instructions for once. Karasu seemed surprised, so you shot him a smile over the top of your menu, earning you a blush which spread from his cheeks to his nose and the tips of his ears.

The food at the restaurant was as good as the atmosphere, and to your surprise, it was easy to talk to Karasu for the duration of the entire meal. You had been afraid that you would run out of things to say, but whether it was due to your shared history or Karasu’s naturally outgoing personality, you found that there was no end to the conversation.

When the waitress came with the check, Karasu immediately slapped his credit card on it, glaring at you so fiercely when your fingers inched towards your purse that you actually felt cowed.

“It’s really alright,” you said.

“I’ll come over there and hold your hands down if you try to pay,” he warned you, wiggling his fingers at you threateningly. You wrinkled your nose.

“If you’re going to be so stubborn about it, then fine,” you said. “Can we go down to the beach once she comes back with your card?”

“Do we have to?” he said.

“No, of course we don’t have to, I just thought that, since we had come all of this way, we might as well,” you said. 

Karasu’s lips pursed into an uneasy expression, but he nodded. “Okay, we can.”

You beamed at him. “Thanks! I know it’s not your favorite, but I promise it’ll be fun if we go together.”

“Sure,” he grumbled. “Whatever you say.”

As soon as he had his card back, you left the restaurant behind, traipsing towards the sand until you were on the beach proper. The sun had set already, and the moon’s reflection on the water was like a silver blot, seeping into the sparkling waves and melting amongst the pinpricks of the stars. As you gazed out at the horizon, Karasu intertwined his fingers with yours, and when you turned, you saw that he was looking at you in much the same way that you had been looking out to the sea.

“I want to go in,” you said. “You don’t have to! I just want to dip my feet.”

“Alright,” he said softly. “We can do that.”

“Aren’t you afraid?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “But I’ll try anyways.”

You smiled, kicking off your shoes and watching him do the same before he leaned down, refusing to let go of your hand as he rolled up the cuffs of his pants so that they did not get wet. Then, tentatively, he stepped forward, screwing his eyes shut as the tides splashed against your ankles.

“Why are you scared of the water?” you said, urging him deeper with a squeeze of your hand. He followed you willingly, though he did not open his eyes. 

“I hate it,” he said. “I just do. I can’t explain why. When I was a kid, my sister took me to the pool and tried to teach me how to swim, but I cried and I cried, so she gave up. Pretty mediocre, don’t you think? But I can’t bring myself to get over it.”

“Do you think you’ll drown?” you said.

“Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not. It’s the uncertainty that drives me crazy. When you’re in the water, you’re completely at its mercy, and I don’t like that. I don’t like trusting anyone but myself.”

Of course. The ever-independent Karasu, who was always so self-assured and arrogant…no wonder he hated the water. It was the one force which even he could not rise above, which could kill him if it wanted to, which he was powerless to resist. Being at someone else’s mercy went directly against his nature — so why, then, did he always give himself up for you? Why was he telling you this, when you could be quite sure he had never told anyone else? Why was he chasing after you as you pulled him further and further into an unknown territory?

By the time the water reached his knees, the currents swishing about around your legs playfully, he was all but trembling, though he did not otherwise protest. Working your hand free from his death grip, you waited for him to open his eyes, which he did with a swiftness that left you reeling.

He had an arresting sort of stare, you thought, especially in the moonlight — a kind of dancing wildness which defied explanation. There was not a trace of his typical mischief in his blown pupils when they landed upon you, only fear and awe in equal measure, mixing into a writhing shade as dark as the sky at midnight. An impatient breeze whipped against your face as he reached for you, and for some reason, that moment was what made you very, very certain that you liked him. You liked him more than you had ever liked anyone before. You liked him more than should be possible.

The tips of his fingers dug into your waist as he held onto you for dear life, and slowly, carefully, you allowed your arms to snake around his neck. Besides flinching whenever the water splashed particularly high, he did not move a muscle, though he swallowed when you leaned closer to him.

“Karasu — Tabito,” you said. “Tabito, it’s okay. Even in the water, I’ll be there for you. I was first in the class for swimming, right? So I’ll never let you drown. As long as I’m with you, nothing will happen. Do you believe me when I say that?”

“Yes,” he said. “I do.”

He was reaching his limit, though, and you could tell because he was shifting from foot to foot, eyeing the water warily, his jaw clenched at every ebb and flow. You nodded firmly and then twisted so that you could pick your way back to the shore.

“Let’s go home,” you said.

“Not yet,” he said. In an unexpected role reversal, he yanked you back, extending one hand to steady you when you stumbled and then, before you could comprehend what was happening, tangling the other in your hair, crushing his mouth against yours without abandon.

It was rough and tasted like sea salt, the way he kissed you, all messy and shaky and heady and furious. You were left breathless and clinging to him so that you were not swept away, his shirt bunching up in your fists, his hands roaming up and down your sides like a current. 

“Now we can go,” he said, pulling away and flashing you that same cocky grin he always wore, though it was more hesitant than usual, which was either a product of the water’s presence or yours. “Yeah? I think I’ve had more than enough of the beach for the rest of this year.”

“Yeah,” you said once you had regained your wits about you. “Yeah, my parents, I don’t want them to worry, so we should probably — we should probably go.”

“Hm,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “A couple more minutes wouldn’t hurt though, right?”

“No,” you said immediately. “Not at all.”

“Then what would you say if I asked if we could spend just a little longer here?” he said.

“I think I would say yes,” you said. “Yes. For as long as possible, I want to be here.”

“You’d say that to anyone,” he teased as you walked towards where your shoes lay on the dry sand. You shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Not to anyone. Just you.”

“Is that so?” he said. “Man. It’s hard to be around you when you say stuff like that. It’s hard to listen to, I can’t lie. If anyone else said something so overly sweet, I’d make fun of them.”

“As if you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you said.

“Normally, I would,” he agreed. “But I’ll make an exception this time. It’s our first date, after all. I have to act like a gentleman so you agree to go on a second one.”

“I’ll go on a second one,” you said. “And a third, if you want. A fourth and a fifth, even.”

“That many?” he said. “I must’ve done something right today, then.”

“You did a lot of things right,” you said. “It almost made up for the lifetime of assholery you have led up until this point.”

“I tried,” he said with a wink. “So. Where do we go next time?”

“How about you pick? You did everything I wanted to today, so it’s only fair if I return the favor,” you said. 

“I’ll think about it and let you know,” he said. “Oh, and hey, Y/N?”

“Yes?” you said, looking up from where you were putting on your shoes.

“I didn’t mean what I said back then,” he said.

“Back when?” you said.

“Every time I called you ugly or whatever,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“I didn’t mean it, either,” you said. “You know, when I told you there wasn’t a single guy at our school that I’d go out with. Turns out there’s one.”

“Lucky fellow,” he said. “Getting to have the Y/N L/N as his girlfriend and all. He hit the jackpot.”

“That he did,” you said. “So I’m your girlfriend, then?”

His eyes widened. “Ah. I mean, only if you want to be.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I want to be.”

“Then I guess you are,” he said. You were planning on responding in a romantic way, but as you tried to come up with something to say, you happened to notice the time on your phone.

“Oh, fuck! My parents are going to kill me if we don’t leave right now!” you said.

“Not on my watch! I finally got you to be my girlfriend. There’s no way I’m letting you die now!” he said, grabbing your arm and taking off in a sprint towards the parking lot. You did your best to keep up with him, though it was difficult when you kept doubling over with laughter at his urgent pleas for you to hurry so that he didn’t lose any of the favor he had curried with your father.

Maybe your best friend hadn’t been so far off the mark, after all. Once you were settled in the passenger seat of his car, you pulled out your phone and texted her, knowing that she was probably waiting anxiously in her room for an update.

‘date went well. get started on that speech.’

[11queensupreme11]

Let's say in an alternate universe, Percy, due to the Bifrost and Kronos is sent a few thousand years in the past before canon for due to still having the curse of Achilles, crash-lands in the past, right into Shiva’s palace unharmed and confused but tries to be polite, unknowingly charming Shiva and his wives despite being wary of her aura, which feels a lot like Poseidon's. Though Percy doesn't fully understand what kind of gods they are, she adopts a sweet, innocent “uwu” behavior, which draws them in even more. They briefly consider sending her back to Poseidon but ultimately decide to keep her for themselves, as their feelings grow stronger. Percy, oblivious, doesn’t catch on until they outright tell her how they feel.Years later, Percy becomes Shiva’s fourth wife, living in a mostly polyamorous relationship with Shiva and his three wives despite the fact that Shiva and his wives are huge yanderes of her. At some loint she ascends to godhood, she becomes a goddess of many things, including humanity, and gods from all over are drawn to her. Shiva and his wives constantly fend off suitors, though Percy’s obliviousness only adds to the chaos. Poseidon who finds out about Percy after she marries Shiva is not happy about it, asume in this au he is a platonic yandere, was not thrilled about Shiva being her husband due to not meeting his standards of perfection that and he just hated his personality but despite that he ends up caring for Percy and keeps an eye on her nonetheless.Then, during Ragnarok, the gods vote to destroy humanity, and Shiva, to Percy’s shock, votes in favor of it. Percy finds out, probably through Brunhilde, and confronts Shiva, accusing him of betrayal. This sparks a huge argument and leaves Percy heartbroken. She leaves the palace, swearing to fight for humanity. Shiva’s wives try to stop her. Durga takes a harsh approach, reminding Percy that she belongs to them not humanity, while Kali and Parvati are gentler, reminding Percy of the love they share and the happy memories they had together even pointing out that even if Shiva voted no it wouldn't change anything. Despite their words softening her, Percy stays determined.Meanwhile, the gods scramble to find someone who can defeat Percy. Most refuse because they either like or love her or fear Shiva and Poseidon. The only one crazy enough to fight her is Loki how do you think things go from here

lmao i love reading time travel/isekai fics where percy gets yoinked somewhere by kronos cuz that sort of start-up genuinely makes the most sense for how the poor kid would get in the general setting in the first place 😂😂

and omggggggggg you have no IDEA how much i thirst at thought of SHIVAAAAAA 😫 i would love a shiva x percy (what would their ship name be? shercy??? but then we'd have to add the wives, and the name combo would be too long.... indian ocean???? LMAO 😭)

"while Kali and Parvati are gentler, reminding Percy of the love they share and the happy memories they had together even pointing out that even if Shiva voted no it wouldn't change anything" OH THAT'D BE A BIG MISTAKE FOR KALI AND PARVATI TO SAY TBH

cuz yeah it's true that their votes wouldn't have changed anything, but it's the fact that they voted YES in the first place!!!!!! she is a mortal!!!! she's half-human! she was raised amongst them and loves and cares for them! the trio know that and yet STILL voted for their destruction!!!! it's the realization that they hate such a big part of her that hurts 💔💔💔

as for loki vs percy, ohhhhh this would actually be SO perfect if loki loved her here too lmao. why, you ask??? because lets say in this au percy also discovers the ichor/ambrosia thing and uses that in her fight. LOKI WOULD GET SO HORNY THE SECOND SHE STARTS DRINKING AND EATING FROM HIM 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 HE WOULD LITERALLY LOSE THE FIGHT FROM HORNY-NESS ALONE

so percy wins, and so does loki in a way, but now he's got shiva, kali, durga, parvati, AND the greek pantheon on him cuz everyone DEFINITELY saw how down bad he was, the tournament is LIVE after all 😭😭

[therandomartmaker]

[Image ID: An artwork featuring Danny Phantom, full green excluding his hair and white accents, transparent, sitting on a pile of rubble head tilted slightly upwards with his eyes closed. His hair is wispy, he’s got pointed ears and he’s much more identifiable as a ghost. The rubble includes the F of the Fenton Works sign, a satellite dish of some kind, pipes and concrete. The rubble, and Danny, is surrounded by yellow-black striped caution tape. Above Danny’s head is a conversation, in white, “It’s been ten years,” has been written, and in green, “It’s only been 10 years,” is written. /End ID]

Day 31: “It had been a decade since anyone last lived at Fenton Works. Or so people thought.”

tbh this took like. Less than half an hour to make haha. I may have forgotten to do this yesterday lmaooo. To make up for it, here’s a continuation of this prompt by @cryinginthevoid that i filled, wherein Danny has been stuck haunting the rubble of a ruined Fenton Works after his permanent death, only to later be approached by a very much alive Damian, who is the first person to See Danny in over 10 years. So yep, bonus challenge post 2 under the read more :D

Damian had visited. He’d promised and he’d followed through on it, Danny sitting still and watching as Damian approached, day after day, even after Danny had no more words to say, no more information to give. To quote, he was “a tolerable friend despite your intolerance for proper respect.” Danny had no idea if that was a good or bad thing, if he were to be honest.

But still! It’d been 10 years since he’d to spoken to someone, something other than the air. Damian said his brothers wouldn’t follow him, despite saying he’d bring them to meet Danny during one their tentative hangouts, and Danny supposed that was a good thing. He didn’t want Damian to sound crazy or look crazy for talking to thin air, especially not by his family.

Though, what was interesting was the weird amount of black-haired blue-eyed outsiders hanging around town. The FentonWorks rubble had a pretty good view of most of town, despite it’s slow erosion into dust, so Danny was able to see the several strangers in town whenever he went looking.

Damian said his family was looking into ectoplasm due to it’s relation with the dead, and trying to find if anyone around town knew how to access their information databases. They needed to know if there was a way to relieve “Jason’s” burden of the “Lazarus Rage,” and prepare in the case someone else in the family acquires it. And that ‘Lazarus Pits’ are classified information, but who did Danny have to share it to, no one could talk to him except Damian, anyway.

And truthfully, those Lazarus Pits Damian mentioned sounded like pools of ectoplasm that Maddie and Jack would’ve killed for. Danny could only suggest looking into ‘ecto-acne’ treatments, as from one of the stories of Vlad Masters Danny’d heard, it sounded like the short-term effects of ectoplasm exposure.

—

Damian didn’t know why he was sharing so much confidential with Daniel, but he didn’t seem to mind, and didn’t seem to talk to anyone else. He figured it’d be fine. Daniel needed to know as much context as possible in order to help Damian.

Daniel was strange, he spoke in large amounts, but quieted as though he doesn’t expect someone would respond to him. He rarely moved, and there was something unnatural about him. Perhaps the lack of a rise and fall of his chest, or the way his eyes shined.

Damian couldn’t help but make comparisons to the dead he’d seen. Lightless glossy eyes, pale skin, sallow flesh. Daniel was built like a dying or dead person.

Damian… worried. He’d grown close to the other boy, Daniel’s snark to Damian’s sharp tongue and his acceptance of Damian’s veganism, multiple other factors about Damian never drove Daniel away from him. It was nice, being accepted by someone outside of his family. Daniel’s health was concerning, malnutritioned and Daniel’s reaction time was slow. Multiple things were off-kilter about him, and Damian wanted to know why. So he could help.

Because Danny was his friend.

—

Dick observed Damian. He’d taken to pacing the length of the hotel room, and he seemed worried about his new friend (!!! Dami has a friend!!!! And he’s worried about him!!!), muttering about bringing food to the next time he visited. Dick kinda felt bad about what he was about to tell Dami.

“Richard, why are you looking at me?” Dami asked, stopping his pacing to look up at Dick, a soft half-hearted glare on his face.

“Uh well, Tim…” (fuck! He wasn’t supposed to mention Tim!)

“What did Drake do?”

“Tim told me to tell you that we’d gotten enough information and that we were leaving in two days, just in case something new crops up!” Dick rushed, knowing that Dami would loathe the information, but despise Dick more for not telling him.

Dami needed to say goodbye to his new friend, after all, but from what Dick could tell, they couldn’t even have long-distance communication, because “Daniel Who Liked Being Called Danny” didn’t even have a phone!

Dami’s click of his tongue was expected, and his expression had worsened too. Dick had messed up, but he didn’t think there was anyway to break it gently that Damian would have to leave his newfound friend.

The boy stormed off, leaving the room with a door slam. Dick felt bad, man. Well… Dick did have a spare phone he was free to gibe to someone… Perhaps Danny would like it?

[agaypanic]

can u write a chase davenport x baddie like everyone knows she’s fine asf and has no clue why she’s dating him and he’s just super lovey and fluffy

Chase Davenport Dating a Baddie Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: a bit suggestive in one part but that’s it

***

Everyone’s surprised that he pulled someone, period

But seeing that he pulled you specifically?

They act like this is earth-shattering news

Lowkey thought that it was a prank or that he was paying you 

“So, Chase, when are we gonna meet this girlfriend of yours?” Leo asked as he and the bionic trio entered the school. To be honest, they half thought Chase was joking when he told them he was in a relationship, but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Uh… Oh! Seems like right now.” Chase left his siblings to go to his locker, where you were waiting for him. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him.

“Oh my gosh, she’s gonna slap him,” Adam said as you raised a hand to Chase’s face. But to everyone’s surprise, you used the hand to pull his face to yours and kiss him.

Adam, Bree, and Leo slowly approached you and Chase, clearly shocked. When you pulled away, you noticed them and gave a wave.

“Hey.”

“This can’t be real.”

Chase is absolutely smitten with you

Follows you around like a puppy

He just wants to do anything that’ll make you happy

“Chase, you don’t have to carry my bags.” You tell him, but you still let him take the bag of things you just bought from your hand. Watching his muscles flex as he grips the multiple bags is definitely a plus.

“I want to.” He shrugs, jutting out his elbow to signal you to take it, which you happily do. 

The two of you go through the mall, occasionally popping into another store. Before getting to the food court, you stopped in front of Victoria’s Secret. Getting an idea, you bite your lip to stop from grinning and turn to look at Chase.

“You know Build-A-Bear?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded, soon perking up. “Oh my gosh, we should go and make mini us’s.” You couldn’t help but smile at the idea and his excitement.

“I was thinking something similar to that.” You say, looking at the store, yourself, and then back to Chase. “More of a… real-life Build-A-Bear.”

Despite being a genius, it took Chase a minute to realize what you were insinuating. But when he did, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Really?” He asked. You nodded, and the next thing you knew, Chase was running into the store with the excitement of a child.

Before you left the mall, you did end up going to the real Build-A-Bear.

If you like getting your nails done, he insists on paying

When you let him pick the color, he gets all giggly

Almost always chooses blue tbh

When he chooses the color, you ask for his initial on one of your fingers to surprise him

“Hey!” Chase greeted you as he entered the salon. Whenever he dropped you off, he’d always pick something up for you after your appointment and would come back right when you were finished.

You met him at the counter, where he gave your nail tech his card before looking at the hand you were holding up for him. He held your hand, smiling as he looked at the nails.

“You got my initial.” He softly cooed, thumb brushing over the white ‘C’ on your ring finger. “So pretty.”

You blushed as he kissed your knuckles, taking his card back before leading you out of the salon by your now interlocked hands. Even though Chase had treated you like this since the beginning of your relationship, and you should’ve been used to it, he never failed to turn you into a giggly, bashful mess.

“I got your favorite,” Chase said when you got in the car, handing you the bag of food. You took a bite, moaning at how delicious it was.

“Ugh, I love you.” You said, grabbing his face with a freshly manicured hand and kissing him. He gently latched onto your wrist, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love you too.” He said, stealing another kiss before reaching over to steal some of your food.

[he4rts-f0r-evang3line]

falling asleep with hobie brown! (sfw)

huge thanks to @michelleart8 for helping me choose

huuhhh title pretty self explanatory lmao

idk if i'll make this with other characters but like

yea :3

(half fully written fic half headcanons ?) (yknow what i'll do both)

bit of hurt comfort towards the hug scene? idk

also reader and hobie are in an implied established relationship

(word count: 250/300)

it was one of the many nights you spent waiting for hobie to come back home. with the two of you being spider people, you had a very few moments together.

but it didn't stop you from being in love.

coming home later than your boyfriend, or at least you thought you did, you took endless precautions to not make any noise. (which tbh doesn't make any sense tbh let's js say you're a quiet person)

just in case, you know, he did come home earlier than you...

the first thing that hit you as soon as you entered your appartment was that the window - which you often left open when you sleep so that your boyfriend could sneak in without waking you up - was closed.

you didn't pay it no mind as you thought it was the wind.

you headed to the bathroom to get into your pyjamas, where actually were one of hobie's old t'-shirts- which smell reminds you of home.

you then go to the kitchen to get a midnight snack, your all time favorite.

as you turned around, you notice the presence of your boyfriend.

"hobie? is something wrong?" you ask as you run to hug him.

he gave in the hug, shoving his head into your shoulder.

"so... tired... " he mutters, "glad i'm home..."

it was no surprise: the pressure of being a spider-person was extremely high. even though hobie tried his best to hide it, but even he needed to let it out sometimes.

(time for hcs bc idk how to truly describe the scene + it'll be easier)

i feel like he takes all the room there is on the bed like he'd be in some starfish position

somehow you're always touching him whether he's the big spoon or with your head on his chest or his arm around your shoulders

if you're scared of storms he would hug you close and confort you

"it's ok honey, it can't hurt you as long as i'm with you"

he plays with your hair when he can't fall asleep and wonders how non black people's hair work

if you're black/ a person of color he'd go like "ooo their hair is so cool :0

he secretely likes being the little spoon but he never asks for it

"ya can't sleep huh? want me to sing a sothing melody for ya?" (don't judge i have no idea how british people talk)

he always asks you if he can move if you're laying on him - if you're asleep he just doesn't

I KNOW HE WOULD CONFORT YOU IF YOU HAD A NIGHTMARE

"y'had a bad dream ? c'mhere i'll comfort you"

he braids your hair when he can't fall asleep

idk i feel like he only feels at peace in smalls moments like this when he's with you

also when the two of you can't sleep he plays you songs on his accoustic guitar (idk i feel like he's been given one when he was a kid and that's how he started learning)

maybe holding hands under the blankets? also you conforting him after a very tiring day he'd have his head on your lap and he'd fall asleep like that

he probably pushed you out of the bed more than once

"what the fuck are you doing on the floor??" but then he'd know it's his fault and js laugh about it

that's all i got for now i think i'm v tired atm i'll probably edit this later or do a part tO but like xdd hope you enjoyed ;3

[helloiamadrawer]

Hello my friend; I wanted to see if you could do a headcanon or story on Android 17 x Saiyan!Reader who's also Goku's daughter and who is also a black!reader? (You can make it both SFW and NSFW!!)🤗👌🏾❤️‍🔥

Android 17 x Black! Saiyan who is Goku's Daughter

a/n: Hi @lelewright1234 unfortunately I can't do nsfw ( I may do that on a later event but not this one sorry!) but I will make it fluffy and romantic for ya!

Ok it may seem stereotypical but 17 listens to Kendrick Lamar as he cruises through the park with you in his dune buggy, making sure everything is okay and the animals are safe and you ofc

You always admired his love for animals, as you had a liking towards them as well, so whenever you got the chance to patrol, he would ask if you would like to come along if you werent busy

As you are a Saiyan, you and 17 train to maintain your power (cause Goku is mostly NOT present cause he is out training with his rival friend Vegeta) or just for plain fun

and per chance sometimes you two place silly bets on whoever loses 🤭

Cause you prefer defending yourself sometimes and who knows if you end up alone and someone tries to run up on you, the usual defense methods

You asked him once if you could dread or braid his hair and he was totally cool with it as he had no idea what you were going to do but it turned out pretty cool! (Tbh, android 17 in dreads is like a new cool style he would rock it!)

showering you in kisses just out of nowhere really hehe

Your laugh almost sounds just like your father's and 17 just finds it so cute like its his magnum opus of happiness

Sci fi movie nights

Hear me out: Arcade dates because he knows every game and would beat you at all of them (he'd let you win at least one tho and he basically won all the prizes for you such a sweetheart 🥰)

Sugar Daddy 17? 😳😳🤔 just a thought..

You tried teachimg him a bit of gen z lingo but the only word that looks good on him is 💫s l a y💫 you laughed so hard when he tried to put it in a sentence when you were cooking something one day and he goes, "Wow, that smells so slay babe." next thing he sees is you half bent over laughing and 17 is just confused "Omg, you are such a card 17! But nice try though honey, we'll have to brush up more on that."

Did i forget that Bulma once let him rent one of her super dope yachts to 17? Yk, after the TOP and stuff? Yeah he did it again for yall's second year anniversary of being together;a cruise date! complete with flowers, a nice candlelit dinner with a amazing view of the sunset descending over the sea, it was beautiful and romantic at the same time. You couldn't help but think to yourself 'How did i get so lucky?'

a/n: annd...thats about it! Hope you liked it!

[alexthebordercollie]

Soooo I made thing. I will probably redraw this in the cannon style in the future. As for my own personal style for drawing GF stuff, I'm still fleshing it out. But I have another AU now. My Hand of God AU has Ford committing to Bill and spending years trapped in a very abusive relationship, also the apocalypse so that's fun. This one's the complete opposite direction. Ford and Fidds accidentally come into possession of a pair of twins, these boys end up being the motivation it took for Ford to cut things off with Bill and do whatever it takes to keep him from ever getting out.

(I've yet to flesh out exactly how these two were born but the boys were created through anomalous means.)

On the left is Nik (Nikola) An adrenalin junkie who loves adventure and is an absolute menace to society as is the Pines tradition. On the right is Newt (Newton), a pastel-loving soft boy who will cry if you tell him pink is a girl color and gets overly attached to every weird critter Ford brings home.

Nick is missing a pinkie because Bill cut it off while possessing Ford when he was a baby as a threat. Trying to scare Ford into compliance by threatening to kill the boys. Ford did some very unsafe brain surgery on himself to make it impossible for him to ever sleep again. Cutting off Bill's ability to control him for the most part.

Portal is gone, still living in Gravity Falls though, and keeping an eye out for anyone Bill might try to manipulate. Fidds and his wife are divorced. Emma has primary custody but Tate stays with them in GF during the summers where he often bullies Nik and Newt. But Nik and Newt don't tell their dads about it because they know how much Fidds loves his other son and they don't want to make things complicated for him. Tate is just taking out his frustration over his parents failed marriage on his half-siblings. Fidds takes the twins with him when he visits Tate and the rest of his family in California for Christmas. Ford stays behind because Emma hates him and he doesn't want to deal with her family.

Ford and Fidds aren't married both cause it's not legal yet but also tbh not sure they ever would regardless just cause Ford is pretty disinterested in those sorts of formalities. Whatever it is they have going for them right now works for him.

Heavy thoughts below the cut.

TBH I made myself sad thinking about autistic people and our relationships. The way we love isn't always obvious to NT people and it can sometimes feel like you're not good enough for anyone because loving people in the way you're expected to is such a struggle.

Sometimes I see people frame Ford^2 as this completely unrequited thing and it reminds me of the experience of loving people very intensely but feeling unable to prove it because it's so difficult to live up to the standards most people have in relationships.

I like Fiddlestan as a ship it's cute and a fun idea and I get the appeal but there's a little nagging thought in the back of my head that it kind of implies Ford's neurotypical brother is better. More capable of real love. That Ford was never good enough. Not to say Fiddleford didn't deserve better but the idea that these two couldn't have worked makes me kind of depressed for kind of personal reasons so I wanted to make up a universe where they do.

Not to say there isn't plenty of material of Ford and Fidds reconnecting as old men and making it work but the fact they lost so much of their lives to bad decisions is still sad.

[iliadicjasontodd]

:D talk to me abt Shelia! Love your posts and I'd love to hear abt your thoughts!

Hi! Thank you :)) SO.

My thoughts on Sheila Haywood are not 100% stable, and there were times in the past where I would often waver on whether I believed she was even actually Jason's biological mother-- there is some compelling tragedy to that idea, isn't there? He dies chasing a woman he never finds, dies for someone who was not who he believed she was at all... but nowadays I mostly apply Occam's razor here. I also am not a huge fan of the idea of Lady Shiva being Jason's biological mother because I like Jason not coming from some larger-than-life bloodline/inheritance besides the ones he is adopted into; it feels very close to the idea that Jason was "doomed from the start" to me (obligatory disclaimer that I have seen it done interestingly but. yeah anyway a lot of that goes into my feelings on Cass which is not the question here so I digress).

I find Sheila's life fascinating in the sense that she is, when we meet her, obviously a shitty person but shitty in a way that feels very real to me. She is often flattened or villanised in a way that I wouldn't say isn't fair to her but I would say is rather boring, and rather easy and one-note, anyway. I am not convinced, for instance, that Sheila was just born a heinous bitch or something; I'm fairly certain that she became opportunistic and ruthless out of self-preservation over time, to the point that I don't think it would be ludicrous to say she gave up Jason partly for Jason's sake as much as because she could not stomach being hindered by a baby. Also, on a different note, it is interesting to me that she didn't abort him (until he was 15, anyway). Maybe it was out of fear, sure, considering what happened at her hands, but maybe part of her did want to have him. I do not think there is a world in which she would have been the best mother to Jason, but I do think there are many where she was a mother of some kind-- and by some kind, I mean a very, very common kind. Women are not inherently maternal, or warm, or emotionally intelligent, and Sheila is not really any of these things and probably knew it, but I do believe she would have at least effectively gotten Jason to adulthood had they ended up in a world where he was her responsibility in a way she acknowledged made him her responsibility. A lot of my views on this are admittedly influenced by convos in dms, but yeah-- I don't think Jason, empathetic and sensitive and emotional as he is, could have ever gotten along with Sheila, but she is his mother. To Jason, who died trying to save her despite everything, that mattered; and, to Sheila, that mattered at the end, too, just far, far too late. I don't think Jason would mind having been buried near her-- actually, I think if Bruce knew exactly what went down it would bother him more to have buried Jay there than it would Jay, probably. I agree with that post that I think I reblogged recently that says if Sheila ever came back to life Jason would want her in his life. I agree with it so thoroughly I might write it myself one day.

And also she was really hot.

If we're going into constructed headcanon territory I do like the idea that Sheila is one of those Latina middle-aged women that bleach their hair that one specific shade of blonde when they hit 30 or so. Latines know which. But usually, tbh, when I'm feeling specific, I ascribe to the idea that Jason is half-Mexican on Willis' side, Willis who he thoroughly resembles, Sheila being white. I'm not married to any idea about her ethnic background or anything though.

Anyway, I could afford to have more thoughts about Sheila, tbh. I admittedly spend far more time thinking about Willis. I hope this was at least a bit interesting, anon :))

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Belonging - Void Stiles

——————————————————————————————————

Pairing - Void!Stiles x Reader

Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

Summary / Prompt - You decided to flirt with someone else. Void decided you were going to pay for that. Sexually.

Warnings / Content - I guess some themes of possession and perhaps slightly toxic ‘you’re mine’ vibes? CNC, maybe, if it counts as that too. Rough sex (but not like ROUGH rough), mentions of 💀 someone made by Void, etc. PIV unprotected, pet names (literally), Void’s very dominant so if you’re not into the hair pulling and manhandling, I’d skip out tbh

Word Count - 4k

Author’s Note(s) - Shoutout to my friend @voidkiwi00 for giving me the idea for this one! I haven’t written Void in a LONG TIME, so I might be rusty with it. I did my best! Yay for dark characters and lots of filthy sex!

Additional Tags - Void!Stiles is hot asf and it should be criminalized, I have something for dark and dangerous men who get soft for their person LMAO HELP, this kind of screams ‘part two where they fuck and someone sees them and he makes you keep going’ though - ————————————————————————————————

I’d say I’m not sure how I got here, but that’s a lie. I’m fully aware of the reason why I’m currently being pushed against the wall with Void’s hands roaming the lower half of my body like I’m some thing to be possessed - he’d said so only moments prior.

“Your fucking attitude,” I think were his exact words. “Flirting with someone else right in front of me, and teasing me about it afterwards?”

A similar growl is in my ear as he continues to grasp at my ass with one hand, the other between my thighs making slow but intent circles where he knows it’ll make me feel the best. He’s torturing me, on purpose.

“You think you can just…walk around like we’re nothing?” The deep, dark tone of his voice meets with a particularly harsh grip that makes me squeak. “You belong to me. Every fucking inch of this body is mine and mine alone to play with. I could have killed that guy, and not thought twice. It would have been easy. Is that what you wanted?”

I try to say no, but he chuckles and slips a finger inside of me, just enough to have me arching back for pressure.

“Uh huh. You didn’t want me jealous. You just wanted to shove your ass up against him and dance like nobody was watching. Well, I was watching. You knew that, pet. That’s why you did it.” Void bends closer, touches me deeper. I whimper. His mouth brushes from my ear to my neck, a bite there before he adds, “You wanted to be claimed? Answer me.”

“N-no-“

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Tell me what you want, or I’m stopping. You won’t get anything.” His nose brushes up against my skin, a delicious heat under his words. He’s right - of course I’d done it on purpose. I wanted his eyes on me, I wanted him to ruin me in all the ways only he can. I’d been craving his attention, and now I have it. I want to hang onto that for as long as I can.

“Maybe,” I admit, which brings another laugh from him - darker, this time.

“Mmm, maybe? I don’t know, I think you should be a bit better for me. You’re kind of being a fucking brat.” His smack to my ass resounds across the room, my eyes closing sharply, face pressed to the wall. “Acting like someone who wants to be fucked, repeatedly.”

“And if I do? So what? You’re a thousand years old and you’ll cum in me?”

Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. Or maybe the right one? I don’t know - all I do know, is that his hand immediately spans the breadth of my back and reaches up to tug at the base of my hair, forcing my neck back just enough to make it a little uncomfortable. Not that I mind. I know he gets off on pain, and that’s sort of become our thing. He never really hurts me - unless I ask him to.

“Do you know how hard it was not to cave his fucking skull in when he called you pretty?” Seeming to want to show me, Void’s hand moves faster than before, in the way he knows will only prolong how badly I need him to make me finish. He gets off on that edge, too. “You’re goddamn right I can, and I will. Because nobody else gets to have you like this. Nobody touches you, nobody sees you, but me. Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Say it right.”

“Yes, I understand- oh god-“ He’s keeping me right there, and he knows it burns like an eternal fire between my thighs. It’s the best part for him. I can feel him feeding off the pain that radiates when he doesn’t let me let go yet, that subtle but present humming of his energy leeching off of mine, the way he goddamn near moans at how it feels for him.

“Understand what?” Fingers stopping in motion just as I think I might cum, which causes a frustrated whine from my lips.

“I understand that I belong to you.”

“Good girl,” Once again he picks up the pace, although still not enough to get me off. With my back pressed against his chest and his hips against my side, I gather the fact that this is going to be a long, long night. “But I think you still need the reminder, hm? Can’t have you walking around acting like that for every man with a pulse. If you’re a slut for anyone, it’s for me. Not him, not anyone else. Me.”

Soon as he’d touched me, he withdraws; I whimper again, only to find myself spun around so fast that it’s criminal. Lifted by the waist, backed to the wall once more. His hips make a steady grind against my own, jean fabric against bare skin. Another thing that hurts just enough to have him rising against me, hardening fast.

“First, I’m gonna make you wait to cum until it hurts,” He pants, lips against mine in an instant. “Then I’m gonna make you cum so many times, until you’re begging me to stop. Do you think I’ll stop, baby?”

I know he won’t. He’ll probably make me cum until I’m too exhausted to move, or until I pass out. Maybe both. Void is never subtle or really even gentle in the bedroom (and other areas). If it ever seems gentle, it’s because he’s drawing it out. Making it hurt. I’ve kind of grown addicted to the way it burns, if I’m being honest. Nothing else, no one else, has even made me feel quite that bad and good at the same time. Knowing something is dangerous and painful, and wanting it because of that…is my thing, with him.

“No.”

“You’re learning, that’s good. Now,” He pulls back, a sharp rut of his hips up against mine. “Your next lesson. Don’t fucking flirt with anyone else. Ever again.”

As is a fairly normal happenstance, fingers are wrapped around my throat, a low groan emitted into my mouth as he works his body against mine. “Or I will murder someone,” He continues, “You’re mine-“

“Show me.”

Somehow, my attitude still surprises him. I think he expects me to be bending by now, even though I’ve never been one to give in quickly. Part of me believes he likes the challenge. Or maybe I just love seeing that ‘I’m going to fucking destroy you’ smirk, the one he has on his lips right now.

“Show you? I can do that. But I think you’re gonna have to beg me for it. I can’t just hand it out to you, now, can I?”

“Void, please-“

Grasp tighter on my neck, hips bruisingly hard in their rocking, he growls in my ear, “Yeah, that’s it. I want to hear how bad it hurts. How bad you need me. Me, only me. How you know I can fuck you better than anyone else ever could.”

For himself and certainly not for me, he undoes his jeans and shoves them to the floor, kicking them away while still keeping me pinned, legs wrapped around his waist. There’s no hiding the excitement between his legs, or the roll of his eyes as he struggles not to immediately rut into me and take me here and now. But he won’t, he’ll draw it out at least a little longer. Even if I can feel his ache from every molecule of the air we’re in.

“Say it. And I want to hear you mean it. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t go back and-“

“No, no - I belong to you. It hurts so bad, can’t you feel it?” I know he can. Of course, there’s the steady run of black through his veins, ever so slight, but there. “I need you, I need you inside of me, need you to- to edge me till I’m crying, and then-“

“Oh, I do love how you look when you cry. So pretty when you’re that fucked for me,” Still rolling his hips, the gleam in his eyes is predatory. “Mmm, and then what? Tell me.”

“Then make me cry even harder with how many times you make me cum, like you said.”

“Now you want what I want, huh?” He holds my gaze, watching the way my bitten lip swells as he rubs his clothed cock between my folds with an agonizing pressure. “Admit it to me, and maybe I’ll fuck you until you’re ruined. Maybe.”

Holding out is becoming less and less of an option, the wetter I get, the more the indescribable need permeates my very being. He wanted begging? He’s about to get his fill. Hopefully, so am I.

“God, please-“

“God isn’t here right now, sweetheart. You should say my name instead.” The cheeky son of a bitch yanks my hair back again, biting and sucking patterns from my neck to my jaw.

“Fuck me, Void, I swear to- to- I don’t even know, I just need you to make it hurt, please? The way that only you can-“

“The way only I can? Not that bastard who had your attention earlier?”

“He couldn’t even come close.”

“I know. Just making sure you know that.” He hoists me up like it’s nothing, turning us around and making a line straight for the bed. My heart drops to my stomach - well, a little lower - because when it gets to this point, I know I’m in for it. This is what I wanted, and now I’m getting it.

Expectedly, I’m thrown down on the comforter and climbed upon like a prize, his head slotted directly between my legs. Breath hitting just where I need it to, he smirks up at me. “I’m gonna make you beg for my cock inside you. Remind you just how well I fill you up,” A pointed look down below, licking his lips, his fingers circling just shy of somewhere helpful. “Since you seem to have forgotten.”

By now, I know better than to snark back. Or I should, but I am who I am.

“I did forget, actually. Why don’t you force me to remember?”

“You should be careful what you wish for.” That’s the only warning I get before he descends, lips wrapped around my clit with a harsh sucking behind them that makes me cry out. My fingers find his hair, weaving through and tugging as his mouth works over me. There’s a vibration from him, the telltale sign that he’s pleased with my shock.

I don’t get relief, though - he proceeds to alternate between painfully sharp sucks and horribly gentle, barely there licks, his finger ever so gently pressed into my opening and pulling down against the very edges of me. Sometimes he circles it, from beginning to end. Otherwise, he tugs up and down, but with hardly enough penetration - he’s doing it on purpose. Dragging me right to the precipice, just to wind me down so painfully my legs are trembling.

“Please, please…!”

“No, I’m not done with you yet,” Void mutters, his free hand shoving my thigh further into the mattress. “Cry for me, baby.”

“I am-“ Or I thought I was, till he spreads me wider and keeps me stuck there, both hands now, only his mouth working my slick into a royal mess. There’s a gasping, choked sound that leaves me, his tongue flat and spanning the insides of my outer folds, the way he knows I love.

That’s when I really do start crying. It’s so good, and yet not at all the kind of stimulation I’m truly craving - I need deep pressure, not surface level - Void seems to have my body memorized. He looks almost drunk with pleasure the stronger the pain is for me, and it turns me on in ways that it truly shouldn’t…but always does.

“Perfect,” He whispers, head coming back yet again as I try to push my hips up to keep him there. He’s much stronger than me, so it does nothing, of course. “So pretty when you cry for me. Stunning. Does it hurt enough yet? How many times have you clenched around nothing and wished it was me?”

Usually, I would narrow my eyes and tell him, ‘you know how bad it hurts, of course you do!’ - I’m to that point where I would beg him for a single finger, though. Something he also knows. That smirk is so goddamn wicked, and just as delicious.

“Lost count,” I admit, panting and pouting. “I feel like I’m on fire.”

“Oh, baby, I’m aware.” Cocky. Son. Of. A. Bitch. He leaves a kiss just above my mound, thumbs stroking the insides of my thighs.

“Will you please make it better?”

“Better?” Oh, fuck. Not what I was supposed to ask, after all. This time, he bites my stomach, and I gasp.

“Worse. I meant worse-“

“I can do worse.” Warning isn’t his thing - and neither is the expected. Both play into the sudden movement of his hand between my thighs, once more pressing against my heated flesh in one fluid motion, two fingers stretching me wide.

“Fuck…!” My head drops back against the bed, eyes shut tight as the pleasure overwhelms me, ready to break. He’s played with me long enough. He’ll let me cum now. Right?

A swirl, bare swipes against the inner spot that arches my back for him. He hums, “I think someone wants to cum. Tell me, have I made it painful enough for you yet? I don’t think I’ve made it painful enough for myself.”

“Please-“

“Please what?”

“Please make me cum- fuck!” A shaking, utterly embarrassing whimper-whine escapes me.

“Mmm, I could make you. But should I let you, is the question?” He debates this as though it’s some scientific theorem that requires his whole attention, fingers going still inside of me. The pain is unbearable. I’d do just about anything to get it from him, now. “Why don’t we make a deal? I’ll fuck you all over the house, and you’ll take it. And however many times I make you cum before I’m done with you, you have to handle it.”

“Deal,” Not even a breath between his offer and my needy agreement - the smirk widens, more mischief and an almost evil glint in his eyes. He inches closer, a teasing finger brushing against my skin.

“Yeah? You’re gonna let me fuck you all over the house, hm?” We both know there’s no letting involved here. Not from me to him. He just likes to hear me say it.

“I’d let you fuck me anywhere.”

“Ha!” He wasn’t expecting that, by the way he grins. “Is that so? You’re so desperate for me to fill you up, you’d let me take you outside and fuck you where anyone could see? Christ, you’re naughty.”

I’m about to tell him that yes, I would honestly walk over hot fucking coals at this point to have his dick inside me, but he doesn’t let me speak. Instead, I’m roughly tugged up into a sitting position, and he simply tucks his boxers aside, allowing himself to spring free. Angry, red, and hard as hell, if it wasn’t clear already.

“I think I want a little more from you, first.” Barely any gentler, his hand tugs my hair until I bend forwards, landing on my hands and knees. “Think I need to ruin that smart little mouth of yours.”

The scent of musk and sweat fills my nostrils as my face drops against his thigh, missing the point entirely. He grunts, tugging me back up and tutting, “Ah, ah…now, why don’t you remind me just how deep you can take me before you gag?”

“Yes, sir,” I mean, fuck - I’m dripping, I’d do anything at this point. Lips wrapped quickly around his head, I hum as I work him into my mouth and down my throat.

“That’s right,” His voice drops in that way that says, ‘I’m about to break you and it’s purely for my pleasure’. With both hands tight in my hair, he rocks his hips up, a choked groan passing his parted lips. “Fuck, your mouth is so…nngh…you’re so pretty when you shut up and take my dick like a good girl.”

Easily, he hits the back of my throat - tears springing to my eyes, I take it like a champ. If only to hear those sounds he makes, the ones that cause me to tremble and clench my thighs together, begging for friction.

“I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” He says, and it’s not a warning - it’s a promise. “Fuuuuck…and you’re gonna…mmmf…savor every last…motherfucking…drop…aren’t you? Gonna be begging me…for more of it…want me to fill you up…all over, don’t you?”

How he speaks while he’s thrusting up into my face and dragging my head down, I don’t quite understand. Must be some immortal stamina thing, if I had to guess. He doesn’t keep it up much longer, rather choosing to take his pleasure from me until I’m not sure if I’ll black out or he’ll cum first. Every so often he lets me pull back to breathe, muttering something about human bodies and their weaknesses, although he does have a touch of a gentle lean to his gaze. He would never admit it, but I see it.

Right as he’s nearing his first high of the night (because it won’t be the last, not with this man’s sex drive), I swear I catch the lightest hint of a whimper at the end of his moaning. I almost think I could cum untouched.

“Gonna take it, just like the good girl you are for me, huh?” He pants, eyes screwed shut as his head tips back. He forces me down once more, a raw gasp as he breathes, “I’m going to ruin you after this- oh, oh my god-“

That’s the moment he cums, himself - my nose smushed up against his skin, his hands held tight in my hair, a wicked and low noise escaping his throat as mine fills with thick, hot liquid. I already feel wrecked, and he hasn’t even fucked me yet. Yet.

Trembling, though he’s still very much in control and full of heady fire, Void looks down at me and brings his hands to cup my face, wiping the tears away as I ease my mouth from him. The slightest smile - genuine, even if he won’t admit it - perks up his lips.

“Mmm, so good, just like always,” He praises, eyes sparkling. There’s a moment where things feel almost…soft. But then, he’s back to his smug grin and a comment of, “How about we remedy that little situation between your legs, pet?”

I’d been grinding my body into itself without thinking twice, which he stops with a warning look - one of those ‘you don’t cum until I say so’ looks. Barely ten seconds from his own orgasm, and he’s already about to chase mine.

“Please?” Is all I can manage, which does cause another look. But, much as he tries to act nonchalant, I know he can feel the desperation radiating off of me. I know he gets off on that pain. And that he’s about to get off on a very different kind.

“You’re already having trouble with your words again, and all it took was my dick down your throat,” He muses, his touch a hell of a lot rougher than earlier now when he circles my clit with his thumb. His other hand works two fingers in again, pulling at me in a rhythm that makes my brain explode. My elicited moans make him chuckle, “I do adore breaking you apart.”

Apart is the best description he could have chosen - not too long after the tugging and rubbing he gives to me, I’m about to burst at the seams. I almost worry he’ll stop again, make me cry more. He would, it’s kind of his thing. But this time, it seems like he’s actually going to let me cum.

“Now, remember what I said, darling - I’m not stopping until it hurts…and then some.” His fingers coax me till I’m squealing, and only then does he give me the allowance I’m craving. “Go on. Cum for me, pet.”

White hot and nearly blinding, the orgasm rockets through me, a gasped plea of his name lost on my lips and just barely out of me when his hands remove themselves, the sound of rustling clothing followed by the feeling of a still-hardening Void pressing up against my folds.

Of course he won’t wait. Even if he’s constrained by a human body, he’s still doing what he wants. And right now, that’s destroying me. He slides in effortlessly, a growl of a groan, “Still so tight, it defies logic.” Hands reach to hold my wrists, hips picking up a pace that sends my body into overdrive. I’m no stranger to overstimulation with Void, I never have been.

“Oh, god!”

“Someone’s forgetting who she’s supposed to worship,” He tuts, but this time he doesn’t stop what he’s doing - no, he goes harder, reaching down and yanking my legs up till he’s so deep I could black out. “You say my name when it hurts, beautiful. How about that?”

“Fuck, fuck- Void!”

“There she is,” Christ, the grunts and groans he lets out are obscene. Life changing. Devastating. The sweat pooling at his brow, knitted together in the pleasure of sex as well as the deliciousness of feeling my pain - he’s a vision of sheer devilishness above me. “Gonna make you cum so hard you forget anyone else even exists, and then I’ll do it again-“ A particularly hard thrust, “And again, and again, until you’re screaming-“

My second orgasm grips him inside me like a vice, sharp curses flying from his lips as he slams my body into the bed over and over. I’m not allowed even a moment of rest, a hand to my throat as he coaxes, “Three? I think I deserve at least three from you. Don’t you, pet? I’m taking it anyways.”

It’s full of shaking and whining, but he keeps his promise - the look in his eyes purely feral as he lifts me and flips us over, hips pushing up into me, hands forcing my own hips to rock in motion and time.

“I can’t-“ I gasp, eyes rolling back as the fourth hits me, ache settling into my core.

“Yes, you can, and you will. For me.” Void doesn’t stop, not for a moment; guiding me with ferocity unmatched, the sounds of our bodies colliding echoing across the room. “Whether you think you can or not, your body tells a different story. This body,” Thumb back down to my clit, bouncing me in his lap while he watches me fall apart, “Is forged in fire and lust and sheer…utter…fucking spite.”

The look on his face when he’s able to pull a fifth orgasm from my shaking body is more than enough to break him, all over again. He forgoes the pretense of pretending I’m in control and turns us back around, a whirl of movements till I’m pinned beneath him a second time and he’s holding me tight enough to bruise, the sounds between the two of us shocking and oh-so-sexy. Driving into me, there’s nothing but absolute pleasure in his every thrust. For him, of course - it’s both for me, the pleasure and the pain. Like I said, though - I want it this way. I’ve gotten a hit of it, and nothing else quite scratches the itch anymore, not like this.

Not like the feeling of his hips knocking into mine, the curses that spill from his lips as the rest of him spills within me. The eye roll that makes my toes curl, the look on his face when he cums hard enough to spur me to finish once more.

Or the words he utters afterwards, past his post-orgasm growling of my name.

“Five minutes…and I’m fucking you against the window next.”

[boqvistsbabe]

truth or dare - matthew tkachuk

A/N: this is for the summer fic exchange!! I got the chance to write for @ohmyeyesmyeyes as a part of @wyattjohnston 's summer fic exchange. I was pretty nervous because tbh I havent written in so long mostly because of writers block, but here it is! Super excited to have been able to take part in this especially cause it got me out of a writer's block lol. I absolutely loved doing this. Also in this Matt and McDavid are friends. Hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: Some swearing but I think that's it! (also my computer started acting weird halfway through so the formatting got a little funky so apologies for that)

Wordcount: 4,705

So it finally happened. Matthew had won the Stanley Cup. And you somehow found yourself driving from St Louis down to the Lake of the Ozarks to celebrate with him and his family. 

To be completely honest you don’t know why you were invited, Matt and you texted every once in a while for birthdays and other holidays, maybe congrats on a game or promotion, and maybe saw each other when he visited home occasionally but nothing like when you were kids growing up together. You were in the same grade as Brady and quickly became best friends with him. With how much family means to the Tkachuks, you were easily brought in as one of their own. Being brought on family vacations, going to the lake each summer, and traveling to the boys’ and Taryn’s games was a big part of your younger years. Though you were best friends with Brady, there was always something about Matt that drew you to him. He treated you just like one of his siblings always teasing and trying to beat you in games but as you got older things changed. You’re not exactly sure when or why but he stopped messing around with you so much, he still hung out with you but when it was just the two of you it was less teasing and more deep talks about the future and what it held for both of you. Of course, you ended up having a little crush on him, he was too nice and familiar for you to not. Even though you never told a single soul about it, you had a suspicion Chantal knew anyway.

When he made it to the NHL he moved and you stayed in St Louis you kept in touch, making weekly calls and texting all of the time. Then he got a girlfriend and you started hearing from him less and less. You understood of course, things change as you grow up and life goes on. Though you still stayed close with Brady and Taryn when they moved on to college and the league.

Flashforward to playoffs this year, you were watching whatever games of Matt’s you could like always and then the Panthers won, and you got a text from Matt saying you should join the family at the lake to celebrate “like old times”. You had asked Taryn if she thought it was a good idea when you FaceTimed the night after and she told you of course and looked at you like you were stupid for suggesting otherwise. She didn’t know about the silly little crush you still had on him so of course she would think that. Brady knew though, not fully but you slipped up one time when you were drunk and he won’t let you live it down. 

So here you were taking time off work for the first time in forever, driving two hours to get to the lake to celebrate a man you were probably in love with. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matthew’s POV

“Brady would you stop that!” I was fed up with him bugging me right now. Everyone had made it to the lake so far, Sasha, McDavid, all the other guys their plus ones, and of course my family. The only one left to show up was Y/N. At first, I wasn’t even sure she would accept my offer. I knew she had been working a bunch and honestly didn’t know if she was keeping up with hockey anymore. She liked it a lot when we were younger but things can change. And with us not being super close anymore I didn’t know if it would be worth it to her. Thankfully according to Brady, she left like two and a half hours ago so she should be here any minute. 

But Brady won’t leave me alone about the whole Y/N thing. I don’t see what the problem was, I wanted to see an old friend and this was a good excuse to do so. Well, that’s exactly what I had told my family, it’s not entirely untrue. I just didn’t tell them about how when I was lifting that cup in the air I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like to have her there with me. When I first made it to the show I was still hung up on her so I dated around to distract myself. Never anything too serious, the whole point was just to get my mind off of her so I could focus on hockey I wasn’t trying to get caught up on someone else too. Of course, it never really worked, which is why I got up the courage to even ask her to come. As soon as I got back to the locker room after that game and had a moment to myself, I texted her. Brady was there and being nosey as usual saw my text from over my shoulder and won’t stop bugging me about it. 

My plan was just to have her come here to just see her again. Yeah maybe partially because I want to see if that little spark is still there, but also just because I hope we can get closer again. I hope we can.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV 

You pull in front of the garage, put the car in park, and give yourself to breathe for a second. The second doesn’t last long though.

“Y/N!!! You’re here!!” Taryn was running up to your car with Brady right behind her. And there he was, Matthew Tkachuk standing there in all his Stanley Cup Champion glory on the porch watching his siblings pull you from your car and into a big hug.

“Matt you can’t just stand there and watch them maul me and not even try to do anything!” You shouted over to him even as you squeezed Brady and Taryn tighter. It had been months since you had seen either of them in person and you were planning on savoring every moment you had with them, and Matt before you all had to return to your busy lives. 

Matt started making his way to the three of you a big smile on his face, “Ahh you’re right, I’ve got to join in.” 

Next thing you knew, another set of arms was wrapped around you. Maybe Matt was right, it was gonna be just like old times. They all let you go and you turned to give Taryn her own hug first.

“Hey kid, I missed you.” Somehow it feels like she’s gotten taller since the last time you saw her. Taryn responds with a, “You’re not that much older… but I missed you too.” 

Brady’s next and you get a hug and a big paw messing up your hair like he always did when you were younger. When he lets you go you turn to the only one left, Matt who’s standing there smiling at your interactions with his siblings. You’re trying to fix your hair from Brady messing it up and he reaches over and tucks a piece of hair back to help out. Then Brady says something about helping Mom with dinner and drags Taryn along with him. 

You mumble a thanks to Matt and he opens up his arms and you step into them. 

“Thanks for coming, it means a lot,” Is mumbled into your hair. 

“Yeah of course Superstar.” The old nickname falls out of your mouth unintentionally.  

“Oh my gosh, I’m never going to escape that am I?” You’re still hugging him.

“Definitely not now with the Cup to prove it.” He laughs but is still hugging you too. 

You take a step back and wipe your hands on your shorts not knowing what to do with them. 

“Alright let’s get your stuff and then I’ll help you get it inside, you’re staying in Taryn’s room since she’ll be in the basement with her friends.” 

“Alright works for me.” 

~~~~~~

As you make the trek up the two flights of stairs to the upper floor you’re grateful for Matt taking your bags. You forgot how steep the stairs were. You make it to Taryn’s room before you notice that the corner room, the one next to yours has plastic covering the doorway. Without turning you ask him what happened.

“Oh a big storm came through a couple of weeks ago and a tree fell on that corner of the house.” He shrugs and reaches around you to open the door to Taryn’s room. 

“Isn’t that your room though?” You haven’t moved into the room yet.

“Uh yeah, I’m just staying on the couch and keeping my stuff in Brady’s room.” He nudges you forward and you move into the room, setting your backpack on the bed before turning to him.

“Why don’t you take Brady’s room and make him sleep on the couch? This is like your thing, you shouldn’t be sleeping on the couch.” 

Matt shrugs, “ His girlfriend is staying here too so they get a room and I’m fine with the couch.” 

“Matt you should sleep here and I’ll take the couch and leave my stuff with Taryn and the girls.” You move to grab your stuff from him, but he doesn’t let you.

“Absolutely not, you’re a guest and Mom would kill me.” He’s got a frown on his face that you refuse to admit to yourself is cute. 

“I don’t care, this is your gig I’m taking the couch.”  With that, you run out of the room and bolt down the stairs and Matt is hot on your heels as soon as he figures out what you’re doing. 

It’s not hard to locate Chantal and Keith, they’re out on the back deck grilling and watching the kids (aka Taryn and her friends) play with a volleyball in the yard. It seems like some of Matt’s friends from hockey are here too because they’re taking up the chairs scattered around the deck. But you barely pay attention to them, you’re on a mission.

“Chantal can you please tell your son to liste-” You’re cut off by a strong arm around your waist and a hand over your mouth. 

“Mom don’t listen to her please.” Matt is out of breath behind you, holding tight cause he knows as soon as he lets go you’ll convince his mom to agree with you like always.

“You two are already back at it huh? Hi Y/N it's good to see you, honey. What am I trying to agree to?”  She looks amused at the spectacle of you two. She’s used to it, this is exactly something that would happen whenever you wanted one of the boys to listen to you when you were kids. You would run to Chantal and get her on your side without letting her know the real context so you would get your way. She thought it was hilarious and always sided with you because you were always right. 

“Mom she’s trying to take the couch and make me sleep in Taryn’s room.” You lick his hand and he immediately retracts it and Keith laughs. He doesn’t let go of you though.

“Y/N you’re a guest you know better.” She’s giving you a look and you know you’ve already lost.

“But Chantal it's Superstar’s celebration, not mine! And he has camp starting here soon, we can’t have him in pain from sleeping on a couch.” You heard a few chuckles from the guys at the nickname. 

“If it’s that big of a deal to both of you just share the bed, it’s a king and it’s not like you haven’t shared before. Don’t give me those looks, you think I didn’t know about your little sleepovers?” You feel your face heat and refuse to look at Matt’s friends who are now 100% interested in what’s going on, “ I don’t care what y’all do but I don’t want to deal with arguing right now, it’s day 1. Now shoo and get stuff to set the table.”

Without speaking he lets go of you and you both turn and walk right back into the house and into the kitchen, the sound of laughter following you. The next couple of seconds are completely silent before you both burst into laughter. You make eye contact across the island and start laughing again. Together you get the tables set for dinner. 

“You know she’s not wrong, it’s a good compromise.” You look over to where Matt is perched on the counter. 

“What?” He can’t be suggesting what you think he is, if he is it’s a bad idea. 

“We could share, the bed is big enough and we’re both adults.” He shrugs, “ I don’t see why not. As long as you’re fine with it, I’m fine with it.” 

It’s a bad idea and you should say no, “Yeah I’m fine with it.” So your mouth and brain were not on the same page at all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve forgotten about that agreement until everyone is headed to their rooms or cabins and you’re standing in the doorway of the room watching Matt put his stuff up. You tell yourself it’s fine and move to grab your pajamas out of your bag.

“What side of the bed do you want?” Matt pops his head out the bathroom doorway to look at you.

“I don’t really care.” You shrug, you’d prefer the side by the window but you weren’t going to say that.

“If I remember right you like to sleep closer to the window, so I’ll take the side by the door.” Matt winks before shutting the door to change.

You’re not going to think anything of the wink or of the fact that he remembers little things about you. Instead, you plug your charger in on that side of the bed and set your water on that side table. When Matt gets out you take your turn. You change first then brush your teeth and wash your face before heading out to the bedroom. Of course, you manage to open the door right as Matt tugs off his shirt. You pause for just a second, taking in his muscular back and arms. When he starts to turn around you look away and start heading to your side of the bed. You don’t know why you were so shocked at him taking off his shirt, he always slept without a shirt on. Maybe it just felt a little different now, you stop that train of thought before it finishes leaving the station. 

You grab two of the big decorative pillows that Matt threw on the floor and place them next to each other in the middle of the bed.

“Really? I’m not gonna give you cooties I promise.” That teasing glint is in Matt’s eyes, “I’ll stick to my side of the bed don’t worry.” 

You roll your eyes before flopping into bed and snuggling up under the covers. 

~~~~~~~~

Waking up the next morning with a heavy arm draped around your waist wasn’t something your brain was able to process that early. Turning you realized it was Matt who was all cuddled up close. You try to wiggle away but it doesn’t work and he just holds on tighter. Sighing you reach over to grab your phone. You pull up the text thread to Brady and snap a quick picture of Matt snuggled up with you.

Y/N: he didn’t stay on his side of the bed and now he won’t let me go.

Brady: don’t pretend like you’re not enjoying it, also you should be thanking me rn 

Y/N: ???

Brady: you forgot to close the door last night, got this on my way to the kitchen. Dw i was up first and i shut the door

Attached to his message is a picture from the doorway of the room, and it clearly shows you half lying on top of Matt, face tucked into his neck and his arm wrapped around you. Before thinking better of it, you save the picture to your photos. 

Y/N: well fuck, thanks

Brady: yw, breakfast is ready when y’all are

Y/N: perfect thanks

Turning around you poke Matt until he stirs.

“What do you want, it's too early for this,” his eyes aren’t even open.

“So much for staying on your side of the bed and its 9:30 its not that early.” You tease, poking him again.

Matt’s eyes flutter open and he takes in the situation. Once he realizes his arm is around you, he quickly retracts it and brings his hands up to rub his eyes.

“Whoops sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Uh huh sure. I’m gonna go get breakfast.” And with that, you roll out of bed, grab your phone and water, and slip out of the room.

~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV

“Fuuucccckkkk.” I stretch out across the bed. I didn’t intentionally cuddle Y/N last night but oh well. She’s a good cuddler. Maybe I can convince her to cuddle tonight. Actually, maybe I need to stop thinking like that. Sitting up I grab my phone and see a notification from Brady.

Brady: if you don’t want everyone knowing about your little crush maybe you should remember to shut the door 

Right after the message is a picture of Y/N lying on top of me with her face tucked in my neck and a leg hooked around mine, I assume she wasn’t aware of this but if she was she conveniently left that out when teasing me about breaking the pillow wall.

Matt: shit did anyone else see, i don’t want anyone to bug her about it

Brady: nah just me, i shut the door on the way downstairs and I was the first one up.

Matt: K thx, she said breakfast is ready?

Brady: ya, get your ass down here and eat its boat day

Groaning I push myself up from the bed and head downstairs. And if I saved the picture to my phone who can blame me, it’s cute. 

~~~~~~~~

Brady POV

If these two don’t get their shit figured out before the end of the trip I’m gonna scream. They obviously like each other, and I know for sure Y/N has liked him for years and I’m pretty sure it’s the same for him. They just need to do something about it.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Boat day means us “kids” are out being stupid and Chantal and Keith stay home and get to relax by themselves. It also means you get to drive the boat because that’s your favorite part besides the actual wake surfing. And Matt and Brady know not to argue with you about driving. With so many people though you had to rent a second boat. This meant Brady and his girlfriend were on the boat with Taryn and her friends and you got stuck with Matt and his friends. Not that it would matter too much because you’d stick close together for the most part. 

When you left the dock Matt was sitting in the back with his friends but now he’s moving up to sit in the chair by you. He doesn’t say anything, it's far too loud to have a conversation right now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV 

I can’t stop looking at her. I’m trying not to be too obvious, but she looks so pretty. The wind is pulling the hair out of her braid and the blue of her swimsuit looks so good on her. And even though I know she grew up on the lake with us, her knowing all about the boat and loving to drive it is so attractive for some reason.

Once we get far enough out she gets the boat stopped so we can set everything up. The guys have already decided who’s going in what order so I’ll probably stick up here with her while she’s driving. Even though she didn’t seem to mind about getting stuck with us I still feel a little bad. Plus I like being in her presence. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

“You know you can hang with the guys, they came here to see you.” You don’t turn to look at him, instead choosing to keep watching the boys get set up. 

“Yeah, I know but so are you. And I Like spending time with you so,” he just shrugs. 

So throughout the laps of the boys going one after another, he sat there next to you while you drove. Finally, it was his turn and then you were up next. And this continued till lunch when you all took a break to eat before starting back up again. 

It was the last run for everyone and Matt was up and you somehow ended up in the back watching him because one of the guys wanted to drive a lap. However, this lap was a little different. Matt ended up losing his balance and falling off the board but when that happened the board ended up catching his head as he fell into the water.

The boat stopped and he popped up like nothing was wrong but he had blood dripping down the side of his face starting at his eyebrow. 

“Matt you good man?” Came from McDavid. 

“Yeah, the board just barely caught me.” He seemed fine but you still wanted to make sure.

“Come up here I’m gonna check that out and make sure you’re actually okay.” You told him gesturing up front where the first aid box was. He followed without complaint. You motioned for him to sit in the captain's chair.

“I’m just gonna clean it up and put a bandage on it but once we get back to the house I might have to get something better okay?” You grabbed the kit and got an alcohol wipe out to clean up the blood. His curls had fallen in the way so you brushed them back before cleaning him up. He sat there without complaint, even though the alcohol probably burned a lot, looking up at you as you held his face to keep him still while you doctored him up. The cut wasn’t as bad as you originally thought, but it was still pretty bad. You grabbed the biggest band-aid you found and gently placed it over the cut. 

“Alright good to go.” You declared standing back up. 

“What no kiss for my boo-boo?” Matt teased.

Without even thinking about it you leaned down and kissed the band-aid before walking to the back of the boat to get ready for your last turn. Not even realizing the look Matt is giving you or the fact that Taryn is recording it all from where they stopped not too far away to make sure everything was okay. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner that night it was time for the firepit. Chantal and Keith were inside in bed already, and Taryn and her friends were watching a movie, which meant truth or dare mixed with a little alcohol. Just like if you were all teenagers again.

Though not everyone was drinking it did surprise you that Matt wasn’t. This was normally his bread and butter. And when you asked he just shrugged it off. 

By the time the game actually started, you might’ve been just a little tipsy. Thankfully Matt was sitting next to you so at least knew who you were next to. Though maybe you were a little bit more out of it than you thought because you couldn’t stop looking at Matt and you’re pretty sure it’s really obvious but you also don’t really care.

At some point, someone asks you the age-old question of truth or dare. Normally you’re a truth kind of person but even through the alcohol, you can tell that drunk confessions might not be the best idea right now. Of course, the only other option is dare so you pick that, which in hindsight still might not be a great idea because you are far gone enough to agree to whatever dare they threw your way. 

“I dare you to kiss Matt, on the lips.” 

Oh, that was, unexpected. Especially considering it came from McDavid. 

You glanced over at Matt who looked like a deer in the headlights. You nudged him and he turned to look at you.

“I’m fine with it if you are?” You whispered to him.

“Are you sure, you’ve drank tonight I don’t want that to be influencing your decision.” He looked concerned which you found sweet. And even though you were drunk, you still wanted to kiss him. This might be your only chance and the alcohol is giving you the confidence you need.

“I’m sober enough to consent to it, but are you okay with it?”

“Yeah.” He was still looking at you, eyes jumping around different parts of your face before landing on your lips. So you did what any sane person would, slid your hand into the curls at the nape of his neck tugged him towards you, and kissed him. Your eyes fluttered shut and one of his hands came up to cup your face and the other wrapped around you to pull you closer. 

You broke apart to a couple of whistles from the guys and Brady saying something about how he doesn’t wanna see that.

Matt was still sitting closer to you, but you didn’t move away until you stood up to grab another beer.

Later on when it was time for everyone to go to bed you were on wobbly legs so Matt offered to give you a piggyback ride up the stairs and of course, you said yes. He brought you all the way into the room and dropped you back on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom.

“Thank you Mattyyyy!” Okay, maybe you were still a little drunk. Matt reappears and sets a cup of water and some pills on the side table.

“Yeah, not a problem. I’m gonna need you to go ahead and sit up so you can take this and not feel totally horrible in the morning.” You raised your arms and he grabbed your hands to tug you up so you could take the medicine. Once you get it down you flop back onto the bed, kick your shoes off, and curl up under the covers. 

“Come on Matty I wanna cuddle and you’re taking forever.” He had just gotten into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. 

“Give me a second and I’ll be right out.” And sure enough he was. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Matt POV

I was royally fucked. 

That kiss, was good. Too good. Cause now I can’t stop thinking about it. 

After rinsing off my face I walked back out expecting Y/N to be asleep, but she was still awake waiting for me covers pulled back and everything. 

“Hurry up Matty,” she looked so cute snuggled up and ready for bed. So I climbed into bed next to her and she immediately tucked herself under my arm and was out a minute later.

Yeah I was in big trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Waking up the next morning sucked big time. Thankfully the planned hike was not until later this afternoon so after breakfast you could come right back upstairs to sleep some more. At least you could remember the night before. But also remembering the night before means you could remember the kiss and how good it was and then Matt getting you upstairs and taking care of you and of course you begging for cuddles. Which speaking of, Matt himself was still asleep and still holding you close. Though this morning you were able to roll out of his grasp before he could pull you back. You went to the bathroom and grabbed more medicine and some water before running downstairs and grabbing two granola bars. No one else seemed to be up either and you didn’t feel like making real food. 

When you got back upstairs Matt was sitting up in bed. You tossed one of the bars at him before crawling back in your side and opening up your own. 

“Everyone else is still asleep, and the hike isn’t untilater so after I eat this I’m gonna go back to sleep.” You exclaimed before eating your granola bar. 

“Alright. Thanks by the way. And if you don’t mind I’ll probably join you, we were up late last night and I’m tired.” You just shrugged in response because your mouth was full. 

True to your word both of you were back asleep after setting an alarm to give enough time for getting ready before the hike.

~~~~~~~~~~

You were all about halfway through the hike when it happened. Somehow you had managed to trip over a tree branch that was across the path. Through this area of the trail it was a small path so everyone was in a single file line and just just happened to be in the back. So no one even knew you fell until you tried to stand up and couldn’t put any pressure on your left foot without yelping in pain. As soon as they heard you they all turned to look to see what happened. And even though he was leading everyone, Matt made it to your first.

“Hey hey, what happened?” He asked as soon as he got to you, kneeling down next to you.

“I got caught on the branch and hurt my left ankle. I can’t stand up.” You had tears running down your face. More out of pain than anything else. 

“Alright, you probably sprained it. I’ll take you back and they’ll continue on okay?” He reached up to wipe your tears away and all you could do was nod. Your ankle really hurt.

He turned around to face the group, “Hey Brady, you keep leading everyone and I’m gonna take her back to the house, she can’t walk.” Brady said something in response but you didn’t even hear him. Before they left Taryn came back to tell Matt to keep them updated and give you a hug. 

When the group started on their way Matt turned to look at you again. 

“Okay I’m gonna have you get on my back and we’ll get back to the house that way okay?”

“Okay, thanks Matt. I’m sorry you have to deal with this instead of finishing the hike.” You did feel really bad.

“Hey hey no it’s fine, you didn’t mean to do this. And I’d rather take you back and know you’re okay than have someone else do it okay?” You ignored how that cause butterflies to errupt in your stomach and just nodded.

“Alright I’m gonna stand up and help you up then get you on my back alright?” You just nodded again.

Matt stood up before leaning down to grab you bridal style.

“When I set you down stand on your good foot and I’ll get lower so you’re able to hop on easier.”

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You made it back to the house, Matt checking on you the whole way, making sure nothing else hurt and making sure he wasn’t hurting you.

Once you get inside Matt sits you down on the couch and disappears. When he comes back he has an ice pack and a bandage to go around your ankle. You lean down to start to undo your laces but he stops you and does it himself.

“Hey let me take care of you.”

“Thanks Matt. I really do appreciate it.” 

He makes quick work of getting you all bandaged up. And you both decide to have a little movie night and Matt gets up to get snacks and turn the lights off. And when he sits back down, he’s sitting a lot closer than before. And you don’t mind.

Eventually you do end up cuddling together, him pulling you close and you tucked in next to him but still with your foot resting on the coffee table in front of you. 

And that’s exactly how everyone finds you later when they get back. 

~~~~~~~~

Matt’s POV

Someone is shaking me. I open my eyes half expecting Y/N to be telling me I’m on her side. But its Mom and I’m in the living room and the TV is showing the ending credits.

“Honey I think y’all need to go to bed its late and y’all are tired. Is she okay?”

“Yeah she’s got a sprain. Nothing too bad thankfully but she is gonna be in pain for a bit.”

“Alright honey, go ahead on up to bed, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

I untangle myself from Y/N and stretch before standing up and lifting her to head upstairs. When I make it to our room and kick the door shut, lay her downa dntuck her in before laying down next to her. And when she automatically cuddles closer who can blame me when my heart flutters for a second.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N POV

Today was the day everyone was leaving. Myself included. Thankfully the ankle I hurt was not the one I needed to drive. Matt of course helped me get everything to the car. By the time I’m ready to leave everyone but Matt and I are gone. And of course Chantal and Keith. 

I’m sitting in my seat procrastinating leaving. I have tomorrow off of work so I’m in no rush. And I want to keep talking to Matt who’s standing in the doorway of my car looking down at me with soft eyes.

“Hey Y/N?” Matt is suddenly serious.

“Yeah what is it?” 

“I like you.” 

“What?”

“I like you. Actually I think I kinda love you and I always have. And if you feel the same which I think you do, or at least I’m hoping you do, I’ll do whatever I can to make it work with us. Even though we would be so far apart. But I just had to telly you that before you left. If you don’t feel the same we can pretend this never happened, but for the record I really don’t want to have to forget that amazing kiss.” There’s a blush covering Matt’s whole face.

“Matt?” 

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m kind of in love with you too.” Relief washes over Matt’s face. 

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” 

You don’t answer, you just pull him close and plant one on him.

“And Matt,” he leans back to look at you again, “I think now is a good time to mention that I got a promotion that requires me to move out of St Louis.”

“I don’t care where you move if you want to I am willingto make it work no matter where you are.”

“Well me moving might make it a little easier on us.”

“Oh yeah? Where do you have to move to?” He rests his hands on your hips, a smile across his face.

“Well I kinda of have to move to Miami. So like maybe twenty minutes from you?” 

Matt’s smile somehow gets bigger as he lifts you up to spin around.

“I think that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

[d-lanx]

Ok now I’ve slept and the hype over last night is over I’ve had time to actually think about what could happen. So my theories are below the cut. I've almost definitely forgot something so might add to it or tweak it later.

Firstly, Drew possibly feuding with Damian? He was eliminated by him and seemed shocked. Then there’s the whole thing about drew apparently storming out after the show and complaining that someone messed up and eliminated him too soon and “had to get their moves in”. I'm assuming this is probably part of a storyline. So I guess damian? Reminds me of what they did when punk returned. Which also means drew on smackdown as they’ve previously been hinting at :( tbh I’m still surprised. The bloodline story he had was interesting, I was sure he was gonna have a match with Roman at mania. And I feel like it would be weird to briefly go after Damian for something seemingly unrelated to the bloodline, and then to go back to Roman. So I’m assuming this will be a feud till mania. But it does feel very random.

Seth I think might be doing something with Roman reigns. There seemed to be a lot more focus on their dynamic in the match tonight. And now Roman has no title it would be even easier to have a blood feud. Also kinda tired of Seth v punk tbh cos it’s not really as fun when the two of them can’t even talk about half of the shit that actually happened when punk left. Tho a three way match between the lot of them to tide us over til mania would be pretty good. Tho I feel if that happened it would be a mania match, not something for elimination chamber so maybe not. Cos I have thoughts about punk rn.

With punk I’m wondering if the favour might be to garauntee him a place in the chamber match, or to otherwise get him a title match/chance to qaulify for one. I was so sure if he went for a title it would be with gunther cos they keep mentioning him and they had those house show matches. It seemed like only a matter of time before he was back in the title picture. But now I’m wondering if it might be Cody. I was surprised to see punk vow to go for Cody in that promo before the rumble after so much Gunther setup (again, he was constantly mentioning him thru the drew and Seth feuds and they had their house show match). And I’m wondering if this is why. Cos they wanted to pull the trigger on Jey and it only made sense for jey to go for Gunther so they shifted punk to Cody.

The punk/cody promo was interesting with punk being worried for him, and Cody seeming burnt out. Then they seemed to have Cody snap in the match last night. I’m wondering if we’re finally gonna get psychotic heel Cody now for punk to feud with. The thing with Cody is that after his storyline to get the title, his title loss will need to be something just as major.

Punks first wwe title since 2013 would be very major. And I can’t imagine them doing a story of his first title in so long and have him be a heel. Cos all the nostalgia fans r gonna be rooting for him no matter what. So it’s not really worth it to try make him a heel. Plus I think it’s an interesting idea that punk, the former burnt out champion fighting a heel Cody, the current burnt out champion, right after warning him about said burnout.

Yes punk was pissed about his loss last night, but if this is what they do then he won’t be going full heel, just typical angry punk with dirty tactics.

Of course this could all be wrong though. Punk might go after Seth again, or wind up in a three way feud with Roman too after the rumble drama. But the thing is, neither Seth or Roman caused him to lose so aside from Seth going mental afterwards, I can’t see why punk would want Seth when hes been so adament about a title ever since he finished his match with seth back on the first netflix raw. Still not sure how I feel about Seth v punk tho considering how mid the punk/seth feud has been. It’s dramatic, sure, but Seth’s arguments really fall apart when u think about them for more than 5 seconds and consider all the other stuff that happened that they’re not talking about, and punk looks weird not mentioning it.

Of course this all leaves out cena. If he wasn’t here I’d be certain of the Cody/punk feud. But with him I’m not so sure. It’s entirely possible that punks promo with Cody was just to provide a bit of foreshadowing before he actually snapped in the match. And that we’re gonna get heel Cody v cena. Cos I do find it hard to imagine that cena won’t be in a main event on his last mania in the wwe. But I also find it weird that they would have cena take the title from Cody if he’s not gonna be sticking around for long after mania. Also from the sounds of things, Cena won't be on TV till elimination chamber. And if they keep that up all year, with him not being on tv and only doing the PPVs its gonna be annoying if he's the champ and never around. It seems like a weird way to end Cody’s title.

And tbh both of these Cody feuds, I feel if they happen, would lead to the title change. But that means a year long reign for Cody. I was so sure he would keep the title longer. But then again, after the major drama to get it, it needs a major place to lose it, like at mania. And I suppose after Roman they don’t just wanna lock into another multi year title reign. They might want the belt to move around a bit more and give more people chances at a title match. So yeah.

It’s hard to say for sure cos it means we now have 3 world title feuds to consider. There’s not enough belts to go around. I saw some theories that punk would use his favour to get a title match before mania, get the belt and then take gunthers place to face jay. But that feels a bit too convoluted for a 2 month storyline. It would be hard to have punk as a face in even the early days of that kind of story if he's going after Jey, and I find it hard to believe they would try to make him heel for his first title back in the company. Cos they won’t be able to get anyone to boo him. Plus I’d be surprised to see him get a title at elimination chamber instead of mania, again cos it’s such a major thing in his career.

So I don’t really know. All I know is I don’t really wanna see Seth v punk anymore. And Seth v punk v Roman could be good, but I’m still not fully sold on that yet, I guess cos Roman and punk haven’t done a whole lot of talking. Also if they did this, it would have to be Roman v punk at mania cos what tf else could they do? The three of them all have very different relationships with each other and they would need to just focus on something. They’ve already done of lot of Seth with each of them, so maybe do Roman v punk and focus on that a bit more and build on survivor series. I just can't see them going for a 3 way feud instead of them trying to get the title. Presumbably all three will be in the chamber match, but then what? All three of them AGAIN at mania??

But the issue I’m still having with that, is that it leaves out the favour. And the favour has been hyped up so much it needs to be something significant. It doesn't have to be like "give me a title now", but rather "get me in the chamber match". Last night I legit thought when punk stepped up to Heyman, he was gonna cash it in, and have it be to get him back in the rumble somehow. Obviously they didn’t do that, and tbh it’d be a bit beyond Heyman's authority to just put him back in, but the point is it’s gonna have to be something important. And if it turns out to be a place in the chamber and he still loses, I feel like it would be a waste. So maybe the chamber and he wins? But then what about cena?

If jey v Gunther wasn’t happening, u could have cena and punk as faces going after Gunther and Cody and do whatever. There was so many storylines that needed finishing and they decided to revive jay v Gunther which we already saw last week at snme and the whole build to that was just incredibly fucking boring. I love them both, but their feud was just boring, and I thought they only did it to fill the card because they didn't want anything too major when they had the rumble literally the next week.

I still feel snme should be for tag titles and mid card titles to give some of those people more tv time, cos otherwise some of these mid carders only really do anything of note at rumbles (still annoyed tozawa lost his sport to ishowspeed for a meme, i liked otis and maxine, but what has tozawa done of any significance on tv??).

I like jay and Gunther individually but their feud has been dull. It’s just been your average “I’m gonna win because I believe in myself :D” and that’s it. Just like his snme Gunther feud. And just like his ic title feud. It’s a repeat of Sami v Gunther, which I also didn’t care for for the same reason. Also Sami didn’t really do much with his reign, and I feel like that’s gonna happen to jay, just like his IC title run.

I get they wanted to pull the trigger on jey, but there’s just so much other stuff going on that needed finishing. I feel like they should have waited till mitb, have jay win that, and get a title that way once all this other stuff is finished up. Cos there’s no need for him to go after Gunther specifically, as there’s not a lot there aside from gunther’s “I don’t think u can do it” lines. So just have him go after whoever is champ after mitb. But obviously it’s done now so they need to make the most of it. It would be a good opportunity to build jeys character some more beyond being the yeet man, cos otherwise this feud is gonna tank over the next 2 months.

Also, my theories all rely on Cody going heel. If it turns out that isn’t happening, then it’s so fucking over. Cody v cena or punk as a face v face would be so shit. And in either of those feuds, it just wouldn’t make sense for cena or punk to be the heel, and there’s not enough real bad blood between any of them to have a feud without heel/face dynamics and be basing it on fans personal opinions of them like with Seth and punk.

So yeah, Cody’s apparently gonna be gone for a little while. Fingers crossed he’s gonna be coming back as a heel.

Also if they even try to do Logan Paul v cm punk I’m gonna end it.

So yeah I’m feeling a lot about last night and I’m really confused what they’re gonna do. But I can’t see cena not being a main event in his final mania and also not getting a title. So I’m gonna guess it’s cena v Cody and jey v Gunther as main event title matches, then Roman v punk, Damien v drew, and then Seth v ???. But still confused why they keep hyping up future punk world title matches and not fucking doing them. It’s getting annoying. And still no idea where the favour comes in. They need to hurry up and use it tho before people get sick of the edging with that as well. And after all this build up, it needs to be something major.

I was so sure cena and punk would win the chamber and rumble matches, then we’d have Gunther v punk and heel Cody v cena, so I’m not sure what to think now. And I can’t really come up with a good theory without leaving some major plot point of person out completely. Maybe I’m not thinking enough. But I’m still mourning that Gunther v punk match we could have had. It would have been so good. They’d have sassed each other to no end, and I imagine their matches would be really good too, based on what I saw in their house match.

But then again, hhh did say in the post show that they dont want to always go for the obvious match, so maybe jay will go for cody after all? Also I really hope we dont get cena as champ if he's not even gonna be on tv aside from ppv matches. I get that he's ppv talent, but theres plenty of other people of tv who do promos and little scuffles but mostly/exclusively do only ppv matches: like seth, roman, punk. They've done the odd thing on tv, but most of the time, they save their matches for ppvs. If cena's not even showing up between ppvs, theres gonna be almsot no build for anything. I really hope that's not a pattern that's gonna happen all year. But he did say in the post show that he's going to Hungary to film something and won't be back until elimination chamber next month. So yeah, no build. Maybe that's why they didn't have cena win the rumble? cos he's not gonna be around for a title to be worth it?? but I still find it hard to believe he's not gonna get a world title at mania. But who knows. Maybe we will somehow magically get that Gunther v punk match after all.

Still not sure how I feel about everything after last night. There were so many storylines that could have been explored, and I feel like jey and Gunther could have waited. The way it's been so far, I just think it's going to be a boring feud and the match is just gonna feel like a waste of a main event spot. But I imagine my feelings on the rumble could change again after raw so who knows. Maybe hhh secretly has some sort of master plan that I’ve yet to realise and I need to just shut the fuck up and wait. But I enjoy theorising so leave me to make my silly theories, I swear I’m having fun.

But one final thing, there better actually be a cena v punk moment at the chamber or I'm gonna flip. Why the hell did they all stand in the ring together and just stare at each other?!! Pls I need to see Punk v cena one last time.

Anyway I probably forgot something here so might add to this theory or change something later if i remember something else or someone points something out to me.