#michael buffer

[jvgsjeff]

[dynamitekansai]

[84reedsy]

This sign was in frame for a LONG time 😂

WCW Monday Nitro

February 1, 1999

Minneapolis, MN

[jasvvy]

father scolding his son after eating all the cheese

[joearlikelikeswrestling]

[changing-my-username]

No Michael Buffer driver introductions?

[spockvarietyhour]

Forgot about Michael Buffer cameo

[voiceclaim-polls]

Example:

Round 0

@voiceclaim-polls

“Have you ever wondered what others think of your weird voice claims? Well you can! They ask those who care "Does the voice fit?" and polls it, while also giving examples of the voices. They don't allow OCs because their voice claims are already valid enough (they don't wanna hurt people's feelings when it comes to OCs) and actually pitches in some of their own voice claims as well, which means they understand some media pretty well.”

@walmart-the-official

(no propaganda submitted)

[ingravinoveritas]

Did you see this picture yet? The first thing I realized was Michael's hand on David's back and their lovely smiles.

Hello! Yes, I did certainly see this group picture that was posted this morning, after every other picture had been posted. This is from Georgia's Insta, so for those who haven't seen the original post, here is a screenshot, along with a close-up of Michael and David, so we can see a little better:

It seems that Georgia's hashtag has been causing some confusion due to her use of an idiomatic expression, so for non-native speakers, the word "tits" has multiple meanings--colloquially, it's another word for breasts, but in British slang, a "tit" also refers to someone who is a fool or an idiot. So Georgia is saying here that she has tits, Anna has tits, and Michael and David are a pair of "tits" (idiots), which gives us the number three.

I did notice and enjoy that there is a "beading" theme to this picture, between David's suit and Anna's dress. I actually very much like her dress and how flattering it is, and it's something I would wear myself, although probably in a different color than white. I also love the way David's jacket sparkles, and there is something about him wearing it while standing next to Michael (who looks one box of bleach away from Aziraphale) that makes it have even more of a "the angel and the Starmaker" vibe to it. Because it's them. You know?

That was a large part of the impression I had of this picture, as it were. Of there being two distinct couples here, but perhaps not the couples you'd assume. It actually reminds me a lot of the picture that the four of them took in Lapland last year, which also looked like two gay couples rather than two straight ones. They all seem to look very comfortable in this arrangement as well, in a way that I felt was somewhat absent from a few of the pictures that were posted yesterday.

To your point, though, I did notice Michael's hand on David, and the warmth that radiated out just from that single touch. His hand is also noticeably low on David's waist, which echoes how we've seen Michael with his arm around David in the past, and is a lovely complement to David's hand being near Michael's neck. Michael's hair is also a bit disheveled compared to the red carpet photos, and I love the idea of it being messed up from a snogging session he and David were having in a coat closet before the girls pulled them out for a pic. Actually possible? Maybe, maybe not. But it's still a delicious thought.

Another thing I noticed is that there is something to the way Michael and David draw the eye in this picture. Georgia and AL are posing/smiling in the same exact way they do in every group picture...although unlike the others, this one wasn't a selfie, and so I wonder if that could be why they seem to be giving off a sense of discomfort to the camera. With Michael and David, the feeling is more one of hesitation. The warmth and crackliness and connection is still there, of course, but it's also almost as if they're holding back, somehow. Which doesn't seem very much like them, at least from what we've all see over the years.

It is a nice picture overall, though, which makes it unfortunate that Georgia's caption sort of takes away from the moment a bit. And given that she's been in the habit of adding these types of cutting comments/tags to a lot of her recent posts, it feels less like "British humor" and more like knowingly taking a dig at Michael and David. She could have just as easily posted the group pic without the hashtag, so at least for me, that's what makes her using it feel so deliberate.

So those are my thoughts on the Oliviers group picture. I am glad that we actually did get one of Michael and David, and to know that they did have the chance to interact at the event. I'd love to hear what other folks think as well, so feel free to add your perspective in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

[gy4rucartman]

have more estrogen michael (ft ceo mike)

[payasita]

I swear I saw you mention somewhere you had a tma phase? Anyways I am currently completely deranged over it so it would be cool to see anything you made for it, if you’re okay with that (if it was someone else who said that and I’m misremembering ignore this💀)

Yeah it was me! Old ass art on an abandoned blog but there's still some I like

[l1v1n-f0r-th3-m1nut3]

i gotta go to sleep

[kxsagi]

hello (≧▽≦), can i make a small request abt sae, rin or karasu where reader has big boobs and sometimes and they somehow ended up looking at her boobs? like, they could be talking abt a something random with reader and it just happens. ( srry if my request it’s not well written or understandable, english is not my native language ╥_╥ )

“𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐫”

a/n: i remember i helped babysit a preschool for community service and my boob size is like… normal ig? and this little boy pointed at my chest and said “boobies!” LIKE WHO ARE YOUR PARENTS AND WHAT ARE THEY TEACHING YOU???

and shidou would totally own that zumiez merch with their "i ❤️ boobies" design and wear it shamelessly 😭

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, karasu tabito, isagi yoichi, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei

itoshi sae

the two of you were casually walking through the grocery store, chatting about what to cook for dinner. 

“i think we should do pasta,” you said. “with garlic bread. and salad. ooh, and those tiny mozzarella balls–” 

you turned to look at him and found him staring. not at your face. 

his eyes were so intensely focused on your chest you’d think there was a crossword puzzle written across your boobs. 

“sae.” 

nothing. 

“sae.” 

“hm?” he said, finally blinking like you pulled him out of a VR headset. 

“what the hell are you looking at?” 

“i thought i saw a stain on your shirt,” he muttered, expression flat like he wasn’t just mentally composing a sonnet to your cleavage. 

“a stain?” 

“yup.” 

“what kind of stain?” 

“existential.” 

you stood there flabbergasted while he just pushed the cart and kept walking like nothing happened. 

later, as you cooked, he came up behind you and whispered, “boobzilla strikes again.” 

you smacked him with a spatula. he dodged it. barely. 

itoshi rin

you were sitting on the floor with him in your living room, showing him a childhood photo album because you were bonding, okay? 

“this is me in kindergarten,” you said, flipping the page. “and this is me in third grade. i was obsessed with dolphins.” 

“huh,” he grunted, eyes scanning the photos… until they weren't. 

his gaze dipped for half a second, just a flicker. a brief, tragic lapse in self-control. and you saw it. 

“rin.” 

he looked up so fast his neck cracked. “yeah?” 

“you looked.” 

“i didn’t.” 

“you blinked directly at my boobs.” 

“i blinked past them.” 

“there’s no past them. they’re in front of me.” 

rin turned into a brick wall. stopped speaking. went so still you could’ve mistaken him for a wax statue. 

for the next ten minutes, he avoided looking below your chin like your boobs were medusa. 

you turned to him and said, “they’re not going to bite you.” 

“yet,” he whispered, completely serious. 

karasu tabito

you were having a serious convo about rent prices and gentrification. serious. 

“they turned that ramen shop into a vape store. a vape store, tabi. do you know what this means?” 

“yes,” he said slowly, clearly not listening. 

you leaned in, waiting for a deep, insightful comment. instead, his eyes drifted down like they were physically pulled by gravity. 

“karasu.” 

“y’know,” he said, blinking like he just woke up and ignoring how he used his last name instead. “i could fit a whole bowl of ramen on your boobs.” 

“i was talking about capitalism.” 

“and i’m talking about your assets, baby.” 

you smacked him with a throw pillow. 

“what?! don’t act like you didn’t bless me with the view. god gave you those like a cheat code.” 

he winked and then dramatically fake-fainted onto the couch like he was dying of thirst. 

every time you wear a low-cut top, he salutes you like you just did a public service. 

isagi yoichi

you were watching a documentary together, fully invested in the plot. meanwhile, isagi was trying his best to be a respectful man of society. 

you were explaining something on screen, leaning forward a little, and your top shifted just slightly. 

and his brain just… froze. like, buffering. 

you noticed immediately. “yoichi?” 

“huh?” 

“what did i just say?” 

“uhhh... the environment?” 

“we’re watching a documentary on japanese vending machines.” 

“right. yep. vending machines are... bad for the climate?” 

you narrowed your eyes, arms crossed (which only made things worse), and he panicked. 

“i wasn’t–! it was–! i didn’t mean to!!” 

now he’s waving his hands like he’s trying to swat guilt away. 

“my eyes were just following the light source!” 

“what light source?” 

“you. you’re the light of my life.” 

man really tried to romance his way out of being caught. 

it worked. barely. 

kaiser michael

you were arguing about something stupid, like which fast food fries were superior. 

“waffle fries are elite,” you insisted. 

“they’re pretentious,” he said. “pick a shape and commit.” 

and somewhere in the middle of your passionate defense of curly fries, his eyes trailed southward like his pupils had minds of their own. 

he didn’t even try to hide it. 

“stop looking at my boobs.” 

“i’m not,” he said, not even blinking. 

“you are.” 

“i’m admiring the passion in your voice,” he smirked. “it just happens to echo really well off your chest.” 

“kaiser.” 

“what? you’re giving boob TED talk energy right now. it’s inspiring.” 

you hit him with a fry. he caught it in his mouth and winked. 

“your arguments are strong,” he said. “but your boobs? stronger.” 

he would definitely make up fake awards like “best visual presentation” and hand them to you while bowing dramatically. 

shidou ryusei

you were showing him how to make pancakes. flour on your cheek, spatula in hand, adorable domestic energy. 

he was pretending to help, mostly eating the batter and poking your sides. 

“you’re not even paying attention,” you sighed. 

“i am,” he said, leaning against the counter and watching you flip a pancake. 

but then you leaned to grab a plate and… yeah. his brain went full caveman. 

“BOOBS,” he said out loud. just. said it. 

“excuse me?” 

“uh– BOOP. i said boop.” 

“you said boobs.” 

“boop-boobs. it’s a pancake term. very official.” 

you gave him a death glare. 

he grinned, grabbed a strawberry, and placed it gently on your cleavage like it was a shrine. 

“for the gods,” he whispered. 

you whacked him with the spatula. 

he licked the strawberry off. 

he lives with zero shame and zero fear of death. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[bitters-n-sweets]

take a break — michael "robby" robinavitch x fem!reader Robby is finally on vacation in Bali. He can't quite turn off the part of him that stays alert, but then he meets someone who somehow silences all the noise.

warnings: angst. smut 18+,  minors go away. this feels very romantic to me. i loved writing this. i never intended to include smut in this actually, i find it challenging, but it felt like a great addition to the story. pls be nice :") [p in v sex, no protection—don't do this kids, oral!fem receiving, fingering, swearing] not proofread. 4.4K words -- i think this is also the longest fic I've written so far masterlist

It just finished raining, and the air feels sticky with heat and flowers. Robby's on his third day of vacation in Bali, and he's yet to do anything on this island they call paradise. No tours, no yoga by the beach, not even a swim.

It's beautiful here—almost painfully—but he keeps checking his phone like someone might page him. Old habits. No one’s paging him. Time zones are a buffer, and besides, he’s on the other side of the world. What could he possibly do?

He’s halfway through drinking from his coconut, perched on a wooden lounge chair by the beach, when he hears a voice beside him, amused and warm.

"You look like you’re trying to solve a math problem with your drink."

He looks up. You’re barefoot, sun-kissed, wearing loose cotton pants and a tank top, your hair a little wild from the humidity.

Robby blinks. "Is it that obvious?"

You motion to the seemingly permanent frown on his face.

Robby's seen you around the resort before. Always by yourself, with two books in one hand and a drink in the other. He thought about saying something multiple times, but always chickened out. Something about you felt... unapproachable. Not in an intimidating way, more in a you’re living fully and I’m not sure how to do that so I don't want to possibly ruin it for you way.

Now you both sit in silence, while Robby continues to check his phone again and sighs. That's when you hand him your book. "Here."

He blinks down at the cover. A Man Called Ove.

"One of my favorites. You should read it." You say, "Better than constantly checking your phone and regretting it a second later."

Robby snorts. You have a point.

"You lend books to strangers a lot?"

"If they look like they've been through some rough shit, yes."

That startles a laugh out of him—genuine, low, a little rusty. "I’m Michael. Robinavitch. You can call me Robby."

You offer your name in return, then nod toward the book. "Give it a chance. Let me know what you think."

"What makes you think I'll give your book back?"

You smile, stepping toward the path back to the resort. "I've seen you around the resort. And if you don't, I'll hunt you down."

You're feeling particularly exhausted today. One, because you just went out surfing for the entire day yesterday, but also because today, you were supposed to be walking down the aisle with the most beautiful dress, about to marry the love of your life. Instead, you're in a hotel room halfway across the world, alone, and feeling like shit.

Well, you suppose the day wasn't half bad. You finally managed to talk to the broody, quietly handsome guy who looks like he’s seen too much and somehow still comes off calm and steady. A smile tugs at your lips. He’s more charming than you expected.

Bali was not a place you thought you'd visit alone. You always imagined you'd be here with your ex-fiancé, drinking and watching the sunset. So you decide it's time to take care of yourself, wear that sundress you've been saving for a special occasion, and head to the resort's bar.

You sit down at your table, putting your book down and picking up the menu, when someone clears his throat, standing next to you.

Robby.

"This seat taken?"

You try to hide your smile. "Be my guest."

He smiles and sits across from you, putting his your book down on the table. He looks good—too good. He’s traded his usual loose t-shirt for a navy polo that clings in the right places, and linen pants that make his long legs look impossibly relaxed.

"You clean up nice." You say.

"You look beautiful." Robby counters, "Can I ask what's the occasion?"

You chuckle nervously, not ready to share the sad part of your life yet. Thankfully, you're saved by the waiter coming to take your order.

"Do you drink Rosé?" Robby asks after ordering your meals. And you nod, surprised. "Great, let's open a bottle of dry Rosé." He says to the waiter.

You raise your brows once the waiter leaves. "Didn't take you for a wine guy—let alone a Rosé? You're full of surprises, Michael."

"You sound like my mother when you call me like that." He groans.

"'Michael'?"

"Yes, and she also mocks my drink choices."

You laugh. "So what's the story?"

"A friend gifted me a dry Rosé one time as a joke. I didn’t want to waste it, so I drank it. Turns out, I liked it more than I wanted to admit. But keep that between us."

You hum, "Ah, yes, can't have you ruin your naturally broody aura."

"Me? Broody?" He snorts like it's ridiculous. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You absolutely are."

With the food almost immediately devoured, you're left with wine and each other's company. The ocean hums in the distance, with the breeze prickling your skin. Robby’s gone quiet, admiring the view, the half-full glass of rosé resting loosely in his fingers.

"So, how do you like the book so far?"

He exhales, tipping his head back. "I wasn’t ready to love it. But it... got to me."

You grin. "Ove grows on you, doesn’t he?"

"Yeah," Robby murmurs. "Grumpy bastard made me feel things I wasn’t in the mood to feel."

You laugh. "That's the point. He's angry at life, but still shows up for people. Even when he doesn’t want to."

Robby nods, quiet for a second. "I think I know what that feels like."

You glance at him, surprised by the honesty. His jaw is tense, but his eyes are soft. You wonder if you should ask—but something tells you this moment is already fragile, and curiosity might crack it too soon.

Instead, you wait.

"I'm an ER doc." Robby swirls the wine in his glass absentmindedly. "Lots of chaos. Long hours. Lots of traumas, deaths… I used to think I was built for this line of work. The pressure, the adrenaline... the fixing things. And sometimes I still do. But lately…"

You don’t speak. You let him go on, because he needs to.

He takes a deep breath. "Lately I’ve been wondering if it's all catching up with me. Like—I walk around carrying everyone else's worst days, and I don’t even notice the weight until I sit still." He continues. "I’ve seen kids come in with gunshots. Mothers who collapse from exhaustion. People screaming for someone to save them, and you just have to keep moving like it doesn’t get to you. Like you’re above it. But you’re not. Not really."

Robby then takes a sharp breath. "Sorry. I'm not usually this..."

You offer him a small smile. "Broody?"

That earns a faint smile, but it doesn’t erase the weariness from his expression.

You figured it's only fair you share your story, too.

You put your wine glass down, your finger tracing the rim. "I was supposed to get married today."

That catches him off guard. His eyes widen, gently. "Oh. Today? As in—today today?"

"Yeah," You laugh under your breath, "Booked the venue and everything. Until 6 months ago, I found out he was cheating on me with one of my bridesmaids. Classic."

"Prick," Robby mutters.

"Right? So I pulled the plug on the wedding, and I've been traveling the world ever since. Running away, I guess. I was so caught up in the relationship that I think I lost part of myself." You sigh. "So now, I'm re-finding myself. Yay."

Robby chuckles. "And how's it going so far?"

You smile, "Let's just say I'm glad I'm not spending today alone."

He mirrors your smile, lifting his glass to cheer. "Me too."

"Walk with me?" you ask, gesturing toward the beach after you've finished your wine.

Robby doesn’t hesitate. "Lead the way."

You both kick off your shoes by the beach entrance and walk slowly along the shore, the water brushing your feet gently. You can feel the wine in your system now. The salty air hits your skin and lets your hair flow freely. Robby has never seen anyone more beautiful. He's glad it's dark out now, or you would've seen him blush.

You glance at him, and he’s already looking at you. Half-lidded, faintly flushed from the wine and maybe something more.

"I don’t usually let myself relax like this." He murmurs.

"And yet here you are, walking barefoot on a beach with a stranger, wine-drunk and poetic." You laugh lightly.

"Stranger?" He repeats, stepping in front of you gently, making you stop.

"No?"

"Feels like I've known you longer." He smiles lazily.

Your heart kicks up a notch, not sure what to say, so you just smile, turning to look towards the sea. The breeze has picked up, cooler now that the sun has long dipped below the horizon. You cross your arms, trying not to shiver, but the goosebumps along your arms give you away.

Without a word, Robby steps behind you. You feel his warmth before you feel the touch—his hands gently brushing your arms, then slowly wrapping around your waist. His chest is solid and steady against your back, and you let yourself lean into it, just a little.

He’s quiet, but you can hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, feel it where your shoulders meet his. The sea hums in the distance, but all you can think about is how your heart is racing—and how you can feel his breath on your skin.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met." He says.

You chuckle and glance up at him, suddenly meeting his eyes. "That's the Rosé talking."

"Maybe," he says, almost to himself. "Or maybe I just really want to kiss you."

Your breath catches. That weightless feeling flutters in your chest, and the world seems to narrow to just the space between your mouths. He waits for your permission—doesn’t lean in right away, doesn’t push. Just watches you, his fingers still resting lightly on your waist.

So you give in. You lean up and close the space between you. It's slow, exploring new ground, like you're testing the heat between you. Robby’s lips are soft, warm, and his beard grazes your skin in the most deliciously distracting way. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you find your fingers brushing the edge of his jaw.

The kiss lingers on your lips even after it ends, like you don't want it to be over. Robby pulls back just enough to look at you, still hazy, still drunk on the moment. His hand is still snug at your waist, like he’s afraid to let go too quickly.

"I don’t want to overstep," he whispers, "But if I asked you to come back with me… would that be okay?"

You hesitate for a second, because something about this feels different than just a vacation fling, but you can't talk about it yet. You don't want to.

"I was hoping you’d ask," you murmur against his lips.

That earns you a smile and another short make-out session that leaves you breathless.

"Are we leaving or what?" You ask in between kisses.

He chuckles, "So impatient."

He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, and you walk together barefoot, tipsy, and a little giddy from everything that’s happened tonight. The resort glows softly in the distance, lanterns swaying with the wind.

Once inside his room, you walk in slowly as if it doesn't look exactly like yours. The mood shifts. Robby closes the door behind you, and for a second, neither of you says anything. You just look at each other in the dim light, the tension from earlier about to snap.

Robby takes the first step closer to you, dragging his finger to lift your chin so he can kiss you again. And again. And again. And you sigh into his arms, hands on his broad chest.

"You can stop me any time."

"I won't."

He kisses you again, deeper this time. His hands slip around your waist, then your back, and up to where the straps of your dress rest. You can feel your heart flip when he hooks it on his finger, slowly peeling it off your shoulder, as if giving you time to push him away, but teasing at the same time.

You let the strap fall down your arm, and the other one soon follows. Robby’s gaze follows the motion like he’s watching something sacred, like he's not sure if he's allowed to want this but can't help himself anyway.

His fingers trail over your now-bare shoulder, and you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You take his hand and slowly make your way towards the bed, sitting down and placing your hands on his waist. You tug at his shirt, hinting you want it off, and he obliges, the shirt gone in one swift motion.

"You’re beautiful," He groans as he leans down to lie on top of you. "God."

You memorize the feel of him: warm skin, a strong chest under your palms, the steady rhythm of his breath stuttering slightly when your hands roam lower to reach his belt. He lets you undo it. Lets you unbutton his pants and pull them down as he peppers kisses throughout your body.

You let out a soft moan when his hand trails up your naked torso, hesitantly, ever so gently caressing your breast, teasing your nipple with his finger, while his mouth makes its way down to latch onto the other.

"Fuck, Robby." Your hand goes up to tug on his hair, earning you a lustful groan, while your other hand grabs onto his arm as an anchor.

Your head is spinning, and something is itching. You buck your hips up to meet his, and now his hand is pinning your waist down.

"You really need to work on your patience." He teases and stops kissing you.

"Can you really blame me?" You daringly take one of his hands, resting it on the slick heat between your thighs.

"Fuck." Robby closes his eyes, pressing his thumb to where he can feel your clitoris is, the sensitive bud poking out and pushing against your panties.

You throw your head back, hips bucking against his hand.

Robby slowly slips the little piece of clothing off, and you watch as his fingers smooth over your slit. He keeps his eyes on you as he lowers himself. You swallow as you anticipate what he's about to do.

"So fucking wet." He murmurs, leaving kitten licks on your clit.

You can only moan while he has his way with you. His hands are holding your thighs open for him, and you try your best to keep eye contact, but it's only making you falter faster. His eyes are dark, lustful, hungry, and you feel like you could cum just from watching him.

He gently sucks on your swollen bud, and you lose your mind when he inserts one finger. Then two. Your slick makes it easy for his fingers to move around and find your sensitive spot, he found it almost immediately, he can tell by the way your eyes roll back and how you clench around him every time.

"Robby—" You sigh with pleasure—a warning, bucking your hips again, and this time he lets you, feeling you're close to the edge. His fingers move expertly in and out of you, curling just at the right spot. Your breaths become erratic, following the pace of Robby's fingers. "Come, sweetheart." He says, almost as a command, and your body arches moments after, breath catching in your throat as waves of pleasure crash through you.

Robby doesn't immediately stop. He pumps his fingers a few more times until you're trembling away, and with a proud smirk, he pulls his fingers out, licks them to taste you—making sure you're watching—before hovering on top of you to kiss you.

You can taste yourself in his mouth, and you whimper, feeling him pressing against your cunt. You're still sensitive, but it feels like you're desperately hungry for more. More of Robby.

Robby tries to pace himself, he doesn't want to rush. He wants to cherish this, drag this out, because he doesn't want this to end. He wants to keep feeling your plush lips against his, your soft touches, your hands in his hair, your body pressed firmly against his.

"Robby," you whisper, your voice barely more than air, "I want you. Please."

And he loses all of his resolve.

Robby bites his lip as he sees your disheveled state. Lips swollen, hair a mess, hooded and hungry eyes, how can he say no to you?

He takes his boxers off, freeing his cock and letting it spring back up to his stomach. You gasp at the sight. He's gonna kill you. First with his gentleness, second with his cock, because you don't think you can handle that.

"Fuck off." You unintentionally comment.

Robby lets out a laugh. "Relax."

"Are you kidding?"

He just shakes his head and hovers over you again, but this time you push him over so he's sitting and you're on top, your sopping wet cunt sitting on his aching cock.

"Sweetheart, you're killing me." He closes his eyes and groans as you drag your hips along his length.

You decide neither of you would last any more teasing, so you take him in your hands, covered in your wetness and his precum, and push him against your folds. Your walls squeeze him as he bottoms out inside you, and you have to hold still for a while.

Robby's hands grip your waist and you're sure it'll leave marks in the morning, but you don't really care. You lift your hips slowly, leaving just the tip before slamming yourself back down, eliciting a moan from both of you.

You're set on a pace, slow, steady, allowing you to have control, but it's not enough. You groan and bury your face in Robby's neck. "Robby…"

"Hm?" He teases, like he knows what you're about to ask for.

"Please," You whisper. "I need…"

He pulls you from hiding your face, a confident smirk on his. But he decides to be merciful this time. Chuckling, he moves so you're now flat on your back again, legs tucked up and pressed onto your sides.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay?"

You manage to let out a giggle. "Robby, don't worry—" your words are immediately cut off when he reinserts himself, the position makes it feel completely different from before. "—Holy fuck."

Robby starts slow, letting you fully adjust before feeling you clench around him, and he picks up the speed. You feel like the air is knocked out of your lungs, only able to take short breaths as Robby brutally drives into you, making you feel all of him.

You can't even moan anymore, your mouth just hangs open as you put your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss you can't properly do. Strings of fuck—Robby—so deep—fuck—you feel so good are the only things you can muster as you feel your high approaching again.

You couldn't even warn him when your orgasm hits you. Your nails just dig into his shoulder as your eyes roll back, back arching as far as it could go, and walls spasming around him. He grunts, nibbling on your neck as his hips stutter, not expecting you to get so tight.

"Fuck." He moans as he spills inside you, staying still for a minute to catch his breath and make sure you're okay.

You're still panting and twitching under him, eyes still closed, but your hands draw small circles on the back of his head.

"'M gonna pull out now." He warns and you hum, moaning again when he does.

He stands up to get a towel to clean you up, "Don't go anywhere." He jokes.

You chuckle. "Don't think I can."

The room is quiet now, only the sound of the AC and the steady rhythm of your breaths can be heard. You're both tangled in the sheets, your leg draped over his, skin still warm from everything that just passed between you. Robby lies on his side, one arm wrapped around your waist, fingertips gently grazing your back in slow, absent-minded strokes. You’re tucked into his chest, your head resting in the curve of his shoulder, your fingers drawing lazy circles on his chest.

Eventually, he presses a kiss to your hair, his lips lingering there.

"You're kind of amazing," He mutters.

"Kind of?" You raise a brow.

He huffs a quiet laugh, "I’m trying not to let it go to your head."

You shift, propping your chin on his chest so you can look at him. His hair is tousled, his eyes soft, still heavy-lidded. "Too late."

He smiles and presses another kiss to your lips.

"Do you always kiss like that on vacation?" You tease.

He chuckles, "Only when I meet someone who gives me their favorite book."

"Pretty exclusive club."

"You're the only member."

You nuzzle closer into him, smiling into his chest. "I'm not gonna lie," You start, "This all feels a little surreal. I never thought I'd meet someone like you. You make all of this feel… right."

"I feel the same way." He admits, "I want to pause everything and just stay in our little bubble."

The silence stretches comfortably for a moment. And then, you get a gut-wrenching realization. "Oh. Right. You said you're only here for a week."

He nods, voice tighter, his hand still tracing along your side. "Yeah."

"So we’ve got, what… four more?"

"Mm-hm." He pulls you close to him, perhaps it's a way so you can't see his sullen expression. "Four more days in the bubble."

And it's hardly enough time.

The next few days blur in sunlight and ocean breeze, you take Robby on winding motorbike rides, wild ATV tours through the jungle, surfing lessons where you both wipe out laughing, and quiet moments snorkeling with whale sharks. You try to make as many memories as you can, all the while masking the dread of his departure. And at night, it’s always the same—his touch like a promise, your body moving with his in the dark, like you're both pretending the end isn't coming.

You both made the silent decision not to say where you’re from. Maybe if you find out he lives just hours away, it’ll make this too real. Too painful. Better to keep things suspended in this bubble, this almost-fairytale. Better to let it end on a hopeful note, instead of a practical-hurtful one.

You’ve told yourself this is just a fling. That some people come into your life for a reason, and maybe Robby was never meant to stay. Maybe he’s just a beautiful lesson in loving deeply and letting go.

You try not to cry in front of him. You want to make the goodbye easier than it feels, to shield him and yourself from the ache that's already blooming in your chest. You try to seem light, even when it’s breaking you.

It’s not easy for Robby, either. If he could, he’d offer you his world—just to wake up beside you every morning and fall asleep with you tucked against his chest. But it wouldn’t be fair. He could never ask you to upend your life for him, no matter how much he wants to.

And maybe that’s the hardest part, he wants to do this right. He wants to believe this is more than just a vacation high. But what if his reality—grueling shifts, emotional exhaustion, his work-life imbalance—ends up driving you away? There’s so much he wants to say, but maybe silence is the merciful choice.

It's the night before he leaves, and you can't say goodbye. But it’s there, hanging unspoken in the humid air between kisses, in the way you cling to each other just a little tighter. You talk quietly about nothing at all, and everything at once—movies you haven’t seen, food you miss, a joke about whale sharks that makes you both laugh a little too hard at 1AM.

At one point, while tracing lazy circles on his chest, he asks, "Should I go before you wake up?"

You don’t answer right away, but then nod. Robby can see your lips quivering slightly.

He pulls you closer to him, but neither of you falls asleep quickly. You make love again, slower this time, as if trying to memorize each other’s skin. As if trying to stretch the hours. You fall asleep tangled together, heartbeats in sync.

By the time the soft blue of dawn creeps up, Robby’s already awake. He moves quietly, getting dressed in the soft light, careful not to wake you. Before he leaves, he pauses by your bedside. You’re still curled under the covers, looking peaceful and beautiful.

He looks at you like he’s trying to remember everything.

Then he pulls something from his bag—a folded piece of paper—and tucks it gently into the book you gave him. His fingers linger on the cover for a beat too long.

He leaves without a sound.

You wake hours later to an empty room, your chest already aching before your mind catches up. You sit up slowly, the sheets cold beside you. You scan everything in your room, maybe Robby had left something behind that you could keep as a memento.

Then you see the book. You open it to find the note inside:

"You changed something in me. Thank you for letting me be yours, even just for a moment."

And that’s when you finally let yourself cry.

------

part two for a reunion is out!

[eclipixels]

Fruit Roll Up

Character: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Hyoma Chigiri, Rin Itoshi, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Sae Itoshi, Michael Kaiser, Ryusei Shidou

Content: Blue Lock boys react to you wanting to wrap a fruit roll up around it (semi crack fic, semi smut)

A/N: inspired by this post -@captainshindo

Warnings: mentions of oral sex

         Yoichi Isagi

      "Wait, hold on—what?"

      Isagi blinked at you like you had just suggested kicking a soccer ball all the way to the moon. His brows furrowed; lips slightly parted in sheer bewilderment as he tried to process your words.

      "You wanna put a fruit roll up on… where?"

      His voice wavered between confusion and mild concern as he sat there, watching you dangle a blue colorful fruit roll up between your fingers like it was some kind of forbidden delicacy. You grinned, leaning in a little closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

      "Come on, Ichi, just trust me on this."

      "I mean, sure, I guess. But why?" He shifted awkwardly, fingers twitching against his knee as a flush crept up his neck. His usual composure, the razor-sharp focus he had on the field, seemed to crumble under the sheer absurdity of the situation.

      “Because I wanna try it out,” you said, pouting just enough to make it almost impossible for him to say no.

      His shoulders sagged in surrender, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "If it makes you happy, then—ah! Ohhh, fuck—”

      You didn’t even let him finish his sentence before jumping at the opportunity. A victorious grin spread across your face as you reached forward, determination shining in your eyes.

      “See? Not such a bad idea, huh?” you mused as you got to work.

      Isagi sucked in a sharp breath, throwing his head back with an unexpected hum. His fingers twitched against his sides as if resisting the urge to swat your hands away, but he didn’t. His eyes fluttered shut for a second before peeking at you, filled with a mix of trepidation and intrigue.

      "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" His voice came out breathless, slightly strained.

      You tilted your head, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "Maybe a little."

      "As long as you’re happy," he muttered, exhaling through his nose. His ears were burning red, and he refused to meet your gaze, probably regretting every decision that led him to this moment. And yet, he didn’t stop you.

      There was something about seeing Isagi, usually so confident and competitive, now reduced to a flustered mess over something so ridiculously simple. The contrast was almost too much to handle.

      "Okay, okay," you giggled, finally pulling back slightly. "What do you think? Rate the experience."

      Isagi blinked at you, lips parted like he was still buffering. Then, after a long pause, he swallowed thickly.

      "Honestly?" He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting anywhere but at you. "Kinda… weird. But not bad. Like, I didn't think it would work, but now—uh." His sentence trailed off as he looked at you again, expression unreadable.

      You smirked, tilting your head. "Go on."

      "You might be onto something," he admitted begrudgingly, shifting slightly under your gaze. "But if you tell anyone about this, I swear—"

      You snorted, reaching over to poke his cheek. "Relax, Ichi. I don’t tell anyone about anything we do in the bedroom"

      "Alright, good. So, uh..." He trailed off, eyes locked onto you with anticipation. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head, waiting for him to continue.

      His cheeks flushed as he hesitated before mumbling, "Are you gonna finish?"

      A smirk played on your lips. "You want me to?"

      "...Yes, please," he admitted, almost shyly.

      And that was all the confirmation you needed before putting him back in your mouth and getting to work.

     Meguru Bachira

      "Oh-ho-ho~? You absolute freak, I love it!" Bachira clapped his hands together, eyes gleaming with mischief like a goblin who had just discovered a new way to cause mayhem. He leaned in closer, watching you with rapt attention.

      You pulled out the fruit roll up, mango pineapple flavored and got to work wrapping it around Bachira’s dick.

      "Wait, wait, wait—you’re actually doing this? Oh, this is gonna be amazing." His excitement was borderline unhinged, his energy bouncing all over the place as he perched on the edge of his seat, barely able to contain himself.

      You didn’t expect him to be this excited. You were actually unsure of how he’d react to your request but this was better than you expected. Maybe that wasn’t such a good thing though because before you even got to put your mouth on it, he was swirling out ideas.

      "What’s next, huh? Should we go full dessert mode? Whipped cream? Chocolate drizzle? No? Tch, you’re no fun," he teased, shaking his head dramatically before perking right back up. "Fine, fine! Just fruit rolls ups… for now"

      As you rolled your eyes and continued, Bachira, of course, had to make things weirder. He started making airplane noises, rocking side to side like a child hyped up on sugar. "Choo-choo! Here comes the flavor train! Next stop: Meguru’s curiosity!"

      You shot him a look, exasperated. "Are you seriously narrating this?"

      "Of course! This is a historic moment!" he declared, placing a dramatic hand over his heart.

      His laughter bubbled up as he watched you, his gaze filled with that signature mix of chaotic excitement and genuine affection. "Y’know, I gotta say," he mused, tilting his head, "I love the way your brain works. Completely unhinged. Just my type."

      His endless enthusiasm made it impossible not to laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

      "And you love it," he shot back, beaming.

      “Oh–oh! Oh this is… this is better than I was expecting~” Bachira moaned as you put his fruit roll up covered cock all the way into your mouth.

      “Yeah?” You hummed, the vibrations from your words contributing to his pleasure

      “Oh yeah, please, don’t stop.” He shut his eyes, his hands finding their way to your hair, entangling themselves in it.

      At the end of the day, Bachira was a whirlwind of chaos and sugar who made everything twice as fun, just by being himself. And oh how you loved him for it.

     Hyoma Chigiri

      Chigiri stared at you, utterly unimpressed. His crimson eyes flickered with disbelief as he took in your suggestion, arms crossed in a way that made him look like a prince being subjected to absolute nonsense. "You could have literally suggested anything else," he said, voice as flat as ever, "anything, and you went with fruit roll-ups?"

      You nodded enthusiastically.

      He exhaled sharply through his nose, pinching the bridge of it like this was giving him an actual migraine. "This has to be some weird diet trend I don’t know about," he muttered, shaking his head.

      "Not a diet," you corrected with a grin. "Just an experience."

      Chigiri gave you the most deadpan stare imaginable, like he was seriously reconsidering every life choice that had led him to this moment. But despite his apparent suffering, you could see the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips, threatening to betray him.

      After a few more seconds of dramatic silence, he sighed in surrender. "Fine," he relented, shifting his weight like a reluctant aristocrat about to partake in the peasantry. "But just this once. And don’t—" he paused, fixing you with a sharp gaze, "—get any on my sheets. I don’t want ants."

      You snorted. "That’s what you’re worried about?"

      "Obviously," he replied smoothly, flicking his silky, shiny hair over his shoulder like this was just another day of dealing with absolute chaos.

      You rolled your eyes, but he wasn’t done. "And if this ends up being terrible," he continued, narrowing his gaze, "you owe me. Big time."

      "Deal," you chirped, already enjoying how much this was ruffling his usually composed demeanor.

      As you prepared everything, Chigiri watched you like a hawk—arms crossed, gaze sharp, still looking vaguely offended by the entire ordeal. Yet, despite all his protests, there was no missing the curiosity lurking beneath his exasperation.

      He was trying way too hard to act like he wasn’t at least a little intrigued.

      And that was exactly why you loved messing with him.

      “What’s taking so l-” Before he could finish, you had him in your mouth. He froze for a moment, shocked, but quickly relaxed, melting like putty as you continued, savoring each movement as you slurped him up like a slushie.

      “D-don’t stop,” he groaned, eyes squeezed shut, clearly enjoying the experience.

      “I’m taking this is going well, and that I won’t have to owe you?” you asked, pulling away. You noticed the disappointed look on his face when you stopped.

      “We’re not finished yet. I’ll let you know when we’re done,” he replied, his frown deepening.

      “Sounds to me like you’re hoping I’ll keep going,” you teased. “but, you don’t have to tell me twice”

        Rin Itoshi

      Rin took one look at the fruit roll-ups in your hands, then glanced at you, and without missing a beat, he immediately turned on his heel and started walking away. "No."

      You blinked, staring after him. "No? Why not?"

      He didn’t even slow down as he walked away, his voice barely turning back to address you. "Because you’re insane."

      You gasped dramatically, hand on your chest. "Excuse me?"

      Rin rubbed his temples like he could already feel a headache forming. "Find someone else to entertain your sugar-fueled delusions," he called over his shoulder, completely unimpressed.

      You stood there, staring at his retreating form, half frustrated and half amused by his complete lack of enthusiasm for your idea.

      He came back five minutes later out of pure curiosity.

      He stood in the doorway for a moment, arms crossed, watching you with that look like he was contemplating whether he was about to make the worst decision of his life.

      "How set are you on this," he began with a sigh, his tone reluctant.

      “Very.”

      "This is a terrible idea." But despite his words, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his lips, and his eyes had softened ever so slightly. Yet, he still walked back into the room, eyeing the way you were on your knees.

      You grinned, clearly winning this battle.

      "Fine." He rolled his eyes, "I’ll humor you. But, this doesn’t mean I’m into this food fetish thing you got going on"

      You could tell he was trying his best to seem unaffected by the ridiculousness of it all, but there was no hiding the faint interest in his eyes as he watched you get to work.

      "One condition," Rin added, stepping a little closer now, as if finally accepting that he was going to be involved in whatever you were planning.

      You raised an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

      "Don’t make it weird," his eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to guard himself against whatever might come next.

      You leaned in with a grin. "No promises."

     Seishiro Nagi

      There was only the faintest hint of interest in his eyes as he leaned back on the pillows. He barely even moved, perfectly embodying the phrase ‘no thoughts, just vibes.’

      As you started preparing your… unique setup, Nagi just lounged there, sprawled out like a cat in the sun. He didn't have any objections, nor did he offer much in the way of encouragement. He simply watched, not bothered enough to care.

      "Seriously? You’re just letting me do this?" you asked.

      "Yeah, I guess," he replied, his eyes drifting shut for a moment as he stifled a yawn. His voice was so devoid of energy that it was impossible to tell if he was bored or just entertained by how over-the-top you were being.

      You kept going, not letting his disinterest stop you. After all, this was Nagi, his lack of reaction was practically a sign that you were doing something right.

      The only time Nagi actually stirred was when a stray piece of the fruit roll up fell on his stomach, just within his reach. Without even opening his eyes, he lazily reached for it, grabbed it, and popped it into his mouth with zero fanfare.

      "Huh. Tasty," he muttered, completely unfazed. He didn’t even bother elaborating or making a face.

      "You’re so weird," you said, shaking your head, but secretly enjoying the way he just went with it.

      "Says you," Nagi scoffed with a lazy grin, his eyes flicking over to you briefly.

      "That’s why you love me." you smiled before taking him in, enjoying the way the fruit roll up melted in your mouth against the heat of your warm tongue. Nagi hissed at the feeling, giving you the first reaction of this whole ordeal.

      “How does it feel?” You asked, pulling away to wipe the drool off your lips.

      “Feels like…” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Like you should keep going.”

          Reo Mikage

      Reo nearly choked on air when you casually dropped the suggestion, his entire body stiffening in surprise. "Excuse me—what?" he managed, his voice high and incredulous. You, on the other hand, were entirely unphased, raising an eyebrow at his dramatic reaction.

      "Fruit. Roll. Ups." you said slowly, as if that explained everything.

      "I heard you. I just… why?" Reo blinked several times, mouth hanging open as he tried to process what you’d just said. He reached for his glass of water, clearly trying to calm himself down, but it only served to make the situation worse. He buried his face in his hands with a long, exasperated sigh, as if he was somehow both embarrassed and horrified.

      "I swear, this is why rich people get accused of having weird kinks," he muttered, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands.

      You smirked, leaning back casually, clearly enjoying the sight of his spiraling. "Well, you know what they say, if the shoe fits," you teased.

      "I don’t even know where to begin with this suggestion."

      You shrugged, nonchalant as ever. "It’s simple. Fruit Roll-Ups. You wrap it around things. You eat it. End of story."

      "I—" He stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was trying to stave off a headache. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, his usual grace and composure slipping for just a moment. "Why Fruit Roll-Ups of all things? Why not… I don’t know, something normal like chocolate or honey or strawberries or—anything that makes sense?"

      "Why not?" you countered with a teasing grin. "It’s fun, it’s colorful, it’s sugary. What’s not to love?"

      "I… I just can’t believe you’re serious about this." He leaned back in his chair.

      "Come on, Reo," you prodded, trying not to laugh at his genuine discomfort. "What’s the worst that could happen?”

      “It’s just weird, alright?”

      "I mean, it’s not like you have to do it, but…" You paused for effect, watching his every move.

      He let out a dramatic groan, the sound of someone utterly defeated. "I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?"

      "Maybe," you teased, enjoying the drama unfolding before you. "But isn’t that what makes it fun?"

      “This is fun to you?”

      "You’re right," you said with a playful grin. "I should’ve suggested something weirder. Like… jelly beans and pickles."

      His eyes went wide. "No! Absolutely not! I have some standards, okay? My dick isn’t some candy buffet, Y/n, damn.”"

      “Aw, man.” You pouted, pretending to be disappointed.

      "You’re insane. But fine," he said after a beat, finally giving in, his voice resigned. "If this is what you want, I’ll play along, but just so you know, I will be silently judging you this whole time."

      You raised an eyebrow. "Judging me? Oh please, I’m gonna make you a mess under me.”

      The thought sent a shiver down Reo’s body. He was getting mad at himself from how turned on he was starting to get. "Whatever. Let’s just get this over with— JESUS CHRIST WOMAN, YOU COULD’VE GAVE ME A WARNING.”

      Yeah, he came three times.

           Sae Itoshi

      Sae just stared at you. Then at the fruit roll up. Then back at you.

      "You need therapy."

      “Sae, what the hell.” You gasp.

      He raised an eyebrow, clearly confused by your silent, almost eager stare. “You’re weird,” he muttered, a little edge to his tone. “Why would I let you do that?”

      You shrugged innocently, feeling a little giddy, “I just think it would be fun.”

      You leaned in just a bit, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Come on, Sae. Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

      His gaze flickered to the fruit roll-up again, then back to your face, his expression still unreadable. “You need serious help.”

      You simply frowned, the corners of your mouth turning down with a playful defiance. “You’re not going to let me? Really?”

      "No." He replied, his voice steady and unbothered, almost too simple.

      "Saeee..." You stretched his name out dramatically, your eyes wide with pleading. "Please?"

      He raised an eyebrow, his expression resigned. "What kind of pleasure do you get from this, other than tormenting me?"

      "It’ll be fun, I swear," you insisted with a hopeful grin.

      He shook his head, sighing deeply as though he couldn’t believe the words coming from your mouth. "This isn’t fun, Y/n. This is odd. You’re odd. I’ve already said no, so stop asking."

      Defeated, you let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping in exaggerated disappointment. Slowly, you walked off to put the box of fruit roll-ups back, doing your best to suppress the letdown you were feeling.

      Later that day, you were sitting on the couch, sulking a little, when you heard the familiar shuffle of his footsteps. Surprised, you looked up to see him standing in front of you, a box of fruit roll-ups in hand. He refused to make eye contact, simply shoving the box into your hands without a word.

      You blinked at him, completely caught off guard. "What’s this?"

      He grumbled, his voice almost a growl. "Fine. You can do it."

      Your jaw dropped in disbelief. "Really? What made you change your mind?"

      He rolled his eyes, clearly irritated but unable to hide the hint of frustration beneath his words. "Does it even matter? Just... let’s get this over with before I change my mind again."

      "Okay! Yippie!" You exclaimed.

      Without wasting a second, you leapt up from the couch, your excitement bubbling over. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, planting kisses all over his face in a flurry of joy before dragging him to the bedroom to give him the most toe-tingling, sheet-gripping, jaw-breaking blow job of his entire life all with his dick wrapped in a fruit roll up.

          Michael Kaiser

      “What’s… this?” Kaiser asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and slight confusion as he watched you settle comfortably between his legs, unwrapping a brightly colored fruit roll-up.

      You gave him a nonchalant glance, still focused on your task. “A fruit roll-up,” you answered simply, as though the answer was obvious.

      He didn’t even flinch as you casually unzipped his pants, a move that was second nature between the two of you. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness. You had an unspoken understanding, a rhythm that allowed such actions to be taken without question. You both made sure to check in with each other, confirming mutual comfort and consent, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t curious when you did.

      Kaiser eyed you intenty, his gaze flickering between your hands and your face, the curiosity and interest clear in his expression. It wasn’t often that he had to wonder about your next move.

      “I can see that,” he murmured, the hint of a smile playing on his lips, though his eyes narrowed in on you. “But what exactly are you doing?”

      “I’m wrapping it around your dick while I suck you off.” You say casualy.

      “What?” He looked at you like you were insane. “The fuck?”

      You threw a Fruit Roll-Up at his face, the candy whizzing through the air and slapping against his cheek with an audible squelch.

      He blinked, clearly caught off guard by it, his expression shifting to one of disbelief as he slowly peeled the sticky fruit snack off his skin. “The hell? What’d you do that for?” he frowned, his voice laced with confusion.

      “You talk too much,” you said, your tone cool. “Just let me suck you off with a fruit roll up around it.”

      Kaiser’s eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flashing in them. “I never said yes,” he replied, his voice steady, though there was a hint of challenge beneath it.

      You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “You never said no,”

      Kaiser chuckled, the deep sound of amusement escaping him. “You're a strange one, aren’t you?” He smirked, resting his chin in his hand, eyes glinting with something that bordered between mischief and intrigue. “But I like strange. It keeps things interesting."

      He leaned forward slightly, making the moment feel far more dramatic than it had any right to be. He seemed to take your little silly idea and blow it up, turning it into some high-class, avant-garde experience, as if he were about to set the stage for a grand performance.

      “If we’re doing this,” he grabbed your chin, tilting your face to have your gaze meet his, “we do it my way.”

          Ryusei Shidou

      Shidou didn’t hesitate. His excitement was instant and electric, the mischievous gleam in his eyes only growing as he took a step toward you, rubbing his hands together like a mad scientist about to unveil his latest, chaotic experiment.

      “Fuck yeah! Let’s get weird!” he cheered, his voice booming with confidence.

      You blinked at him, barely processing his enthusiasm, but the way he immediately dove into brainstorming ideas made you grin despite yourself. Shidou was never one to shy away from insane shit like this.

      “What if we melt chocolate on it? Or dip it in Red Bull? OOH, what if we—”

      “Ryu, no,” you cut him off, shaking your head, but even as you spoke, you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the possibilities were. Chocolate and Red Bull? He was serious about it too, you could see it in his eyes.

      “Ryu, yes.” He pushed back.

      His unwavering energy propelling him into territory you weren’t even sure you’d signed up for. A fruit roll-up was one thing, but now, the absurd ideas were starting to sound less like wild jokes and more like they could actually happen.

      “Just imagine, Y/n. We could put gummy bears on it. Or maybe marshmallows. Maple syrup. Do you even know how good that would be?”

      You stared at him, trying to process the combination of ingredients he was suggesting. The thought alone made your stomach do the thing (your pancreas crying from that diabetic nightmare), but for some reason, you could almost see it working. You did like those snacks,

      But still, you had to draw a line somewhere.

      “Red bull? Isn’t that a little... too much? Like, even for you?”

      Shidou’s face lit up like a lightbulb. “Not enough,” he said matter-of-factly, throwing his arms wide in dramatic flair. “It needs to be bold, right? We’re talking flavor explosion. This isn’t a snack, it’s a masterpiece.”

      “Let’s just start with the fruit roll-up, we’ll think about the other stuff after.”

      Shidou looked disappointed for all of two seconds before a devilish grin crossed his face again. “Deal. But just so you know, you’ve opened Pandora’s box. I’m not responsible for where this goes.”

      You couldn’t help but chuckle. The man was practically salivating over the idea of you giving him blowjobs with various snacks on his dick.

      You unwrapped the fruit roll-up slowly, the shiny, sticky paper catching the light. Shidou purred at the sight of your delicate hands working so meticulously into wrapping it around his throbbing cock. You looked so pretty, all concentrated as you did the strangest things with him. That’s why he loved you, you matched his freak.

      By the time it was all over, Shidou had somehow convinced you to incorporate donuts, bagels, whipped cream, honey, and even the gummy worms he so desperately wanted you to use. When the chaos finally settled, your throat ached, your stomach full, and your face was a mess—covered in a mix of food crumbs, sugar, and the remnants of his sweet, milky cum.

[stra-tek]

Big random list of things that NEARLY happened in Star Trek with no context or citation...

Harry Kim was to appear in Picard season 3 as a Captain (possibly of the Voyager-B)

Sarek was to use the Guardian of Forever to go back in time to become Surak of Vulcan, in a Next Gen episode

An episode was pitched where an NX-01 med tech played by Alice Krige was captured and assimilated by the Borg, becoming their queen

A Star Trek movie was almost made about undoing the Kelvin Universe, and would have had Shatner and Nimoy appear

They considered having Will Riker die, Data become first officer and Thomas Riker the Ops officer in TNG's "Second Chances"

JJ Abrams wanted Nichelle Nichols to cameo as the mother of Zoe Saldana's Uhura

The first season of Enterprise was to be set on Earth, culminating with the launch of NX-01 at the end of the season

They considered a shock reveal in ENT season 4 that it was actually the Vulcans who split off from the Romulans, and Romulus was their original homeworld

William Shatner wanted to return as Kirk from the Mirror Universe, in an Enterprise episode that involved time travel and creating the mirror universe with the transporter

Elnor was going to "explore his sexuality" in early Picard season 2 plans, before a change of showrunner and his character mostly vanishing

The ENT writers wanted Shatner to play Chef, a Kirk look-a-like hired by Daniels and trained to act Kirk-like to give an important speech at some point in history the real Kirk is mysteriously absent from

Data was originally created by mysterious aliens, and was to have a twin sister

Prodigy season 2 writers discussed having Chris Pine's Kirk from the Kelvin universe join the crew for a few episodes

In the originally filmed cut of Star Trek: Generations, Kirk is shot in the back and dies

Very early discussions for what eventually became Star Trek: Picard considered an adaptation of the Star Trek: Destiny novel trilogy

These discussions span off from a Short Treks pitch where a young cadet Jean-Luc Picard met Nichelle Nichols' Uhura

Early plans for the 2009 movie had wholesale destruction of the Prime universe, including the destruction of Earth. Thank Perpetual Entertainment for getting the destruction scaled back to Romulus so Star Trek Online had a Federation left to feature

There's was a story treatment written for Star Trek III: The Search for Spock where Spock stays dead

This one might be a little sus, but Christopher Pike in Discovery season 2 was planned to be very religious and fall to his knees at one point before the Red Angel, and clash with Michael over science vs faith

Early ideas for Star Trek Into Darkness had Benedict Cumberbatch as Robert April, former Enterprise captain turned rogue

Seven of Nine was going to sacrifice herself in order for Voyager to get home

A time travel Justice League of Trek movie by Brent Spiner, bringing together all eras of goodies vs all eras of villains, was considered

Spock shot JFK to fix the timeline in a proposed sequel to The Motion Picture

Ripper/Ephraim was originally going to be a regular, if giant tardigrade, crewmember on Discovery

Prior to Leonard Nimoy's involvement in what would become the 2009 Star Trek movie, a story outline was written about prime-universe cadets Kirk and Spock, in a story inspired by TNG's "The First Duty"

The Enterprise crew went through a black hole, back in time and introduced primative man to fire in another 70's movie script

A TNG movie was written where Picard summons a hologram of James T. Kirk for advice

George Kirk was to be found in the pattern buffer of the wrecked U.S.S. Kelvin 30 years later and resurrected

Voyager's EMH was originally to take on the name of his creator early on in the show, and the first Voyager novels call him "Doc Zimmerman" assuming it would have happened by publishing time

There's concept art where the U.S.S. Cerritos is a Galaxy-class starship

Riker was planned to dislike Data, and treat him poorly because he was an android

They considered making Troi's loss of powers in "The Loss" a permanent thing, because of how much hassle they caused the writing staff

Harry Kim wasn't originally planned to survive Species 8472