#and at their worsts looks like their base egos
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outism-had-a-purpose · 1 year ago
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Ryoshu and Rodya friendship where they sometimes sleep in each other's room when it gets too much in theirs.
When the candlelight in Ryoshu's gets too bright and suffocating with the heat and reminds her too much of the fire her daughter died in sometimes she knocks (more of. just letting herself in lmao) on Rodya's door to literally cool off.
Sometimes when Rodya's room freezes her down to the bone to the point where that she can't sleep, and the stench and sight of her dead neighbors haunts her every senses, Ryoshu gets a quiet knock on her door, and an even more surprising, a solemnly quiet Rodya outside, asking her if she can take a quick snooze here because she doesn't wanna go out and do the night watch.
Something something the only bed worth sleeping is the one right next to you (sad). Fire and ice duo. you get me riht
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hinamie · 4 months ago
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crying @ my first vs most recent megu these r not the same person heLP
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aihaloos · 4 months ago
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OH GOD OH LORD DO WE HAVE TO FIGHT OUR OWN IDs WHAT
I CAN'T DO THIS. I CAN'T. I ONLY HAVE HALF OF THE SINNERS WITH GOOD/USABLE IDS. I CAN'T BRING ANY GOOD BACKUP FOR SLOT 7-12 FOR THE RAILWAY. HELP.
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austinbutlerslovers · 2 months ago
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Benny Cross The Bikeriders Fantasy Part 5
Label Mature 18+
One shot/ Story Continuation
Chapter 5 Broken Promises
🔗 chapter 1 🔗 chapter 2 🔗 chapter 3 🔗 chapter 4
Summary When Benny is beaten to near death you tend and care for him night and day. The confident and strong man you once knew now seems lost forever in the unsure and frail Benny leaving you to put all the pieces back together.
♠️ Passionate Smut ♠️ Benny injured kink •fingering you while he’s hurt •oral on Benny for ego• riding Benny while he’s in pain • size kink• clit play • nipple play •Benny pushing his limits with sex• Benny claiming you • breeding kink • multiple orgasms •multiple creampies • aftercare
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📖 Proof reader @purejasmine @burnthheparaphilia
Heavily Based on the Bikeriders Movie 🩸 Mentions of Blood (Benny beaten severely)
🏍️ Inspo: Anonymous Requests Combined • Benny injured weak & helpless • Benny needing constant care/ depending on you entirely •Benny whimpering and begging •Oral on Benny to make him feel better •Sex with Benny while he’s hurt to make him feel better •Benny pushing his limits during sex while while injured
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Broken Promises
Benny drives his bike aimlessly, the roar of the engine and the rush of wind barely dulling the ache in his chest. There’s no plan, just the need to escape the storm of regret swirling inside him. He fucked up—like he always does. The thought gnaws at him, relentless and cruel. You’ll leave him, he’s sure of it, and he’ll be nothing more than a fleeting mistake in your otherwise perfect life.
He shakes the thought away, trying to convince himself that you love him, that you have to be completely in love with him. But deep down, he knows he’s messed up in the worst possible way.
He exposed you to the side of him that’s driven others away, and what’s worse is the realization that you deserve better—someone with a respectable life, someone who could offer you stability, not a rough-edged fucked up biker like him.
Benny’s mind races, but he doesn’t want to think anymore. He just wants to drink, to drown out the sorrows that threaten to swallow him whole. He’s been riding aimlessly for so long that he doesn’t even know where he is.
He finally pulls up to an unfamiliar bar and dismounts his bike, his legs heavy, the pain from the fight at the rally taking its toll.
He glances down at the bandage on his hand the pain of it dull compared to the hurt in his chest.
You would’ve taken him to the hospital gotten him fixed him up, cared for him tenderly. But he’s sure that’s over now. He looks at his wedding band, the images of you smiling radiantly in your wedding dress flash through his mind, the happiest day of his life. Tears almost well in his eyes but he blinks them back he doesn’t deserve you he knows it he has to let you go.
He slams the bar door open, the force of it matching the turmoil coursing inside him.
“Whiskey and a beer, and when I’m done, keep em coming,” he orders at the bartender, who nods silently.
Benny slumps down onto a stool, once settled, he quickly downs the whiskey, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction, and chases it with a cold beer that does little to quench the fire in his gut.
As the bartender goes to refill his drink, two men approach. The scent of sweat and stale beer hits Benny’s nose as one of them snarls, “Hey, shithead, you can’t wear that jacket in here.”
Benny barely glances at them, but the second man steps closer, his voice louder, more aggressive. “Hey, shithead, you hear my brother? You can’t wear that jacket.”
Benny’s eyes narrow as he looks at one, then the other. He’s itching for a fight, and if proving his loyalty to the club will numb the ache in his heart, he’s ready. Anything to take his mind off you. His blood pressure rises as he calmly sets his glass down. “You’d have to kill me to get this jacket off,” he says, his voice low and dangerous.
Without warning, Benny feels a sharp, heavy blow to his back, a cheap shot that knocks him forward, sending pain shooting through his spine as he sees the broken wood from the barstool that was used.
He stumbles from his seat with the breath forced from his lungs, kneeling on the floor. Before he can recover, another vicious kick slams into his stomach. The force of it bends him double, his insides twisting in agony.
“Fuck,” he gasps, trying to suck in air, but there’s no time. A third kick lands hard against his ribs, a sickening crack reverberating through his body. The pain is blinding, his vision blurring as he goes down, his cheek scraping against the grimy floor. The scent of sweat, beer, and blood fills his nostrils, mingling with the sharp, metallic taste in his mouth.
He tries to crawl, his blood soaked palm slipping against the wooden floor, but the two brothers aren’t done. Benny feels a brutal kick connect with his side, the impact sending him sprawling against the barstools. His body spasms as he spits up blood, the taste of copper thick on his tongue.
The bar is spinning around him, the dim lights flickering as his head throbs in time with his heartbeat. The next thing he knows, rough hands are gripping his jacket, lifting him only to be thrown toward the front door. He crashes to the pavement outside with a bone jarring thud, the breath knocked out of him again.
“He won’t stay down!” one shouts in disbelief. Before he can even think to defend himself, another boot kicks into his face. The pain is explosive, a white hot flash that leaves his vision swimming. He knows they’ll kill him if this keeps up, they’ve gone too far.
Benny’s pushes himself up, only to collapse again under the crushing weight of his injuries. Blood drips from his mouth as he struggles once more, his body trembling with the effort. This time he manages to get one knee under him.
“He’s getting back up!” one of them shouts in frustration as he looms over Benny.
“I’ll keep him down“ the other snarls off to get something to maim him with. The taste of blood is sharp on Bennys tongue, his vision wavering with the strain to stay conscious.
Desperation surges through him, adrenaline cutting through the haze of pain. Bennys hand scrambles to his boot, fingers wrapping around the handle of the knife hidden there.
With a wild burst of energy, Benny pushes himself to his feet and slashes out, the blade slicing across the man’s face in front of him. The man screams in agony, clutching at his bloodied cheek.
“Oh shit, Henry!” the other man yells, his eyes widening in horror at the sight of his brothers mangled face.
But that horror quickly twists into fury. His gaze locks onto Benny with murderous intent, and he grabs a nearby shovel, his knuckles whitening around the handle as he barrels forward.
Benny finally feels a surge of triumph grinning as the man wails in agony clutching his blood streaked face. The small victory doesn’t last long. The second man crashes something heavy against the back of his skull.
The impact rings through Bennys head, disorienting him, and he drops to his knees, the world spinning violently as he slips to the ground clutching his head wet with fresh blood. “This’ll keep him down!,” he hears the man sneer.
Before Benny can react, the spade of a shovel sharply snaps through his ankle, the bones crunching beneath the weight. The pain is excruciating, a bright, searing agony that radiates up his leg as he groans seething through gritted teeth. it’s the final blow for his battered body as he begins losing consciousness.
The last thing he feels is the cold, hard pavement beneath him and the taste of blood in his mouth with all the pain of his injuries. Just before the darkness claims him, fleeting thoughts of you cross his mind, your smile, your touch, your voice but it’s all too late. The world fades to black, and his tormenting pain finally recedes into nothingness.
Decisions
You burst through the hospital doors, heart pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps. Fear gnawing at your insides, pushing you forward. Your eyes dart frantically across the lobby until they land on a group of bikers huddled together, faces grim. Spotting Corky you rush over, your voice cracking as you blurt out, “Where’s Benny!?!”
Corky exchanges a glance with Wahoo, who sighs heavily. “They won’t let us in, only family,” Corky says reluctantly.
Without a second thought, you practically sprint to the front desk, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. “I’m Mrs. Cross—I’m here for my husband, Benny Cross!” you almost shout, your voice trembling and rising, barely holding back the storm of panic threatening to overwhelm you.
The receptionist behind the desk gives you a sympathetic nod and quickly checks you in.
Within minutes, a nurse leads you down a long, sterile hallway, the fluorescent lights flickering above as you pass. Your hands instinctively cling to your arms, as if trying to physically hold yourself together.
The dread sits like a heavy weight in your chest, tightening with each step, but there’s also a fragile hint of relief—Benny is stable, he’s alive.
When you finally reach Benny’s hospital room, the nurse pulls his clipboard from the wall and begins reading his list of injuries, her voice low and clinical.
“Mrs. Cross, when your husband was brought in, he was severely attacked. He suffered fractured ribs, a fractured orbital socket, internal bleeding, blunt force trauma to the head resulting in a concussion, and the most pressing of his injuries—a severed Achilles tendon with a broken talus bone in his right ankle due to blunt force trauma. The injury is so severe that the surgeons are discussing the possibility of amputation.”
Her words hit you like a sledgehammer. Your breath catches, and a sharp pain stabs through your chest as you clutch the wall for support. The hallway spins, nausea threatening to overwhelm you, but you force yourself to stay upright. You can’t afford to be weak, not now.
The nurse continues, her voice gentler as she sees the look of shock and devastation across your face, as you struggle to process the gravity of the situation.
“Your husband is on a heavy medication for the pain now and has been treated for his injuries. The surgeon will discuss the options with you both regarding how you would like to proceed with his amputation in the morning.”
You nod, barely registering her words, your focus solely on the door as she pushes it open for you. With a deep breath, you gather your strength and step inside.
The room is dimly lit, the only sounds the steady beeping of monitors and the soft hum of medial machinery. Your eyes fall on Benny, lying motionless in the hospital bed.
His once strong, commanding presence now looks so fragile, covered in bruises and bandages. His face, usually so ruggedly handsome, is almost unrecognizable swollen and discolored under his right eye. His right leg is encased in a heavy white cast, elevated slightly above the bed, and you can see the bulk of bandages peeking out from under the sheets.
He looks so vulnerable, so different from the man who always seemed indestructible. The sight of him like this breaks your heart all over again.
You approach him slowly, your footsteps silent on the cold, tiled floor. As you get closer, Benny stirs, his eyes fluttering open. When he sees you, a flicker of something crosses his face relief, happiness, maybe even disbelief. He weakly smiles, twisted by pain.
“Benny,” you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.
He shivers, his battered body tensing as he tries to shift, to reach for you. But the pain is too much, and he winces, his breath hitching in his throat. Seeing him like this, struggling even to move, brings tears to your eyes, but you push them back. He needs your strength now, not your tears.
Carefully, you search for a place to touch him, a spot not covered by bruises or bandages. Finally, you find a small patch of uninjured skin on his arm and gently place your hand there, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
“I’m here,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his skin.
He closes his eyes in relief as he exhales shuddering a breath. “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come,” he rasps, his voice hoarse from pain and medication.
“Of course I came,” you reply, your voice heavy with emotion. “I’m here, Benny. I’m not going anywhere.”
Benny’s eyes open again, and he looks up at you with a mix of guilt and gratitude. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I fucked up….I let you down …and I left you.” He chokes out.
You shake your head, blinking back tears. “No, Benny. You didn’t let me down. You’ve never let me down, and Im still right here for you.”
For a moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching, desperate to believe your words. Then, slowly, he reaches up with his good hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your own, and despite everything, it gives you comfort.
“I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his eyes closing as exhaustion takes over.
“You deserve more than you think Benny,” you reply softly, your voice barely a whisper.
As the minutes pass, Benny drifts in and out of consciousness, the pain and medication pulling him under. You stay by his side, holding his hand, careful not to disturb the IV line or the bandages. You watch over him, your heart aching with love and worry.
Morning breaks with a muted glow through the hospital blinds, casting long shadows across the sterile room. You haven’t slept a wink, your eyes never leaving Benny as he lay beside you, his face pale and drawn with pain. You’ve spent the night doting on him and holding his hand, determined to be there for him, no matter what comes.
A gentle knock on the door draws your attention. You stiffen, knowing the doctor’s visit will bring the news he’s not ready to hear. Benny is sitting propped up with the help of pillows, his eyes closed as he rests against the headboard still groggy from the medication and pain. You squeeze his hand a little tighter to wake him as the doctor enters.
The doctor exchanges morning greetings as he walks over to Benny’s bedside, flipping through his medical chart in hand, his expression solemn. He takes a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before speaking in a low, steady voice.
“Mr. Cross, I’m afraid the injury to your ankle is extremely severe. The spade of a shovel penetrated deeply, causing extensive damage to your Achilles tendon and the surrounding soft tissue fracturing your tibia and breaking the talus bone. The prognosis for functional recovery is poor, walking without significant assistance or support will be highly unlikely. After assessing all available options, the only viable course of action is to proceed with a below knee amputation.”
The words hit Benny like a physical blow. You feel his entire body tense beside you. His eyes widen in shock, disbelief washing over his face.
The doctor continues, explaining the necessity, the risks, the slim chances of saving the foot, but Benny’s face is frozen in that same look of shock.
Bennys lips part slightly, as if trying to form words, but nothing comes out. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable and utterly devastated. This man, who has faced down danger more times than you can count, is now staring down a future he never imagined possible.
When the doctor finally finishes, he gives you both a moment, quietly excusing himself to let you process the news. The room falls into a heavy silence. You’re still holding Benny’s hand, but he’s not gripping back, his eyes distant, staring at a point far beyond the hospital walls.
You watch as the reality of what he just heard begins to sink in. His strong, handsome face starts to crumble. Tears well up in his eyes, and before you know it, they spill over, down his cheeks. The sight of Benny crying, breaks something inside you. He’s never cried, not in front of you, not ever and it’s as if the weight of the entire world has come crashing down on him in this single, moment.
He lowers his head, unable to look at you, his shoulders trembling as he begins to sob covering his face. Not just a tear or two, but deep, gut wrenching sobs that shake his entire body. You can’t bear it and move closer sitting beside him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you can.
You stroke his hair avoiding the bandage there and hold him close to your chest as his fingertips weakly cling to your dress.
Minutes pass before the sobs start to subside, leaving Benny breathless and shattered. His face is streaked with tears, his eyes red rimmed and haunted. Finally in a voice that’s barely a whisper,he looks you in the eyes as he pleads, “Please… don’t let them take my foot off”
You meet his gaze, your heart breaking all over again as you see the depth of despair in those blue eyes, the same eyes that have always been so strong. You gently caress his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble under your fingertips as he struggles to say more. Finally, he chokes out what he’s really been dreading, “If they take my foot off I can’t ride any more,” he shudders, his words heavy with sorrow and fear.
His confession surprises you, the full weight of his words sinking in you as you hold him close. Benny’s loyalty to the club runs so deep that the thought of losing his brotherhood is more terrifying to him than the loss of his own limb. Above all else, Benny is a Vandal, and without that, he fears he will lose himself entirely.
Burn it down
Word spreads like wildfire through town, whispers and rumors reaching every corner until they finally land at the Vandals’ clubhouse where everyone gathered after the rally. The air inside is thick with smoke and tension, the usual hum of conversation hushed as the members sense something brewing beneath the surface.
Cal is the first to get the call. The landline phone on the wall rings sharply, cutting through the heavy silence. He picks it up, his expression growing darker as Corky’s voice crackles through the receiver from the hospital. The news hits him like a punch to the gut. Benny had been jumped by members of a rival gang at a bar in Lakeside. The beating was so severe that they nearly severed his foot, leaving him in a hospital bed, fighting to keep his leg.
Cal’s hand tightens around the phone, his knuckles going white as he listens to the details. His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering there as the full weight of the situation settles in. When the call ends, he slams the phone down, the sound echoing through the clubhouse, catching the attention of everyone around.
Without a word, Cal strides across the room to where Johnny is sitting, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. Cal leans in close, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge as he whispers the confirmation.
Johnny’s face hardens immediately, his eyes darken, with a burning rage that simmers just beneath the surface his jaw tightening as he absorbs the full weight of the news. In his chest, he knows he’ll never let this go. One of his own was hurt, and someone was going to pay dearly for it.
Without a second thought, Johnny gathers the Vandals. There’s no need for words they can see the fury in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches, the barely restrained violence in his every movement. They mount their bikes, the roar of engines filling the air as they ride with purpose, their destination clear.
The bar comes into view, a building that now holds the weight of their wrath. The Vandals pull up in front, engines roaring as they line the street, the deafening sound echoing through the air. The bikers stay mounted, revving their engines menacingly, a warning to anyone inside that trouble has arrived.
Johnny dismounts first, his eyes narrowing as he strides toward the entrance, Cal and Brusy flanking him like shadows. The door swings open, and the atmosphere inside shifts immediately. The tension thickens, the air heavy with the unspoken threat as the patrons turn to see who just walked in. Everyone can feel the danger that now hangs over the room, knowing that the men standing in the doorway have come for retribution.
Johnny’s gaze sweeps the room before locking onto the bartender. His glare is enough to freeze the man in place. “I don’t want any trouble here,” the bartender stammers, fully aware of the reason for this unexpected visit.
Johnny pauses, already knowing exactly how he wants to exact revenge for Benny, as he steps closer to the bartender.
“Young kid got beat up in here real bad,” Johnny begins, his voice low and menacing, carrying the unmistakable promise of violence.
“I need you to tell me who did it. Write the names down, tell me where they live, and I’ll let you leave.”
The bartender, eyes wide with fear, doesn’t hesitate. He grabs a piece of paper and a pencil with shaking hands, scribbling down the names as quickly as he can. The presence of Johnny and the Vandals is overwhelming. When he finishes, he hands the paper over, his hand trembling.
Johnny takes it, glances at the names, then hands the paper to Cal. “Send a few guys, make sure they don’t walk again,” Johnny orders, his voice cold and unforgiving.
Cal exits the bar on his mission of retribution for Benny and gives the signal for the Vandals to head inside.
As the Vandals enter the bar and surround Johnny, their sheer presence amplifies the already building tension in the establishment. Sensing whats next the patrons begin to flee.
Johnny lights a cigarette, the flame flickering as he inhales deeply, the smoke curling around him.
“You can leave,” Johnny says to the bartender, his voice calm but filled with menace.
Desperate to save his livelihood, the bartender asks, “What about my bar?”
Johnny doesn’t even glance at the bartender, his gaze distant as he exhales a cloud of smoke. “Burn it down,” he orders to the Vandals coldly, flicking the lit match onto the floor.
The bartender barely has time to react before the Vandals spring into action. They trash the bar with ruthless efficiency, smashing tables, shattering glasses, and ripping bottles from the shelves. Liquor spills everywhere, creating a flammable torrent that they quickly ignite, setting the entire place ablaze.
Johnny, Cal, and the others step outside, lining the street as the flames take hold. The fire spreads quickly, its flickering light painting the night sky in ominous shades of orange and red. The heat intensifies, and the sound of crackling wood and shattering glass fills the air as the bar is consumed by the roaring blaze.
Johnny stands at the front, his expression unreadable as he watches the building burn. The flames dancing in his eyes, reflecting the rage that still simmers within him.
To his left, he notices the fire department arriving, their lights flashing. To his right, the police pull up, their cars blocking off the street. Yet, both the fire department and the police take no action as the building is consumed by the fire ignited by the Vandals.
Brusy, standing beside Johnny, glances nervously between the two groups. “Why aren’t they doing anything?” he asks, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Johnny smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up as he watches the flames devour the building. He doesn’t take his eyes off the blaze as he replies, -“Because they’re scared.”
The fire rages on until the bar is reduced to nothing more than a pile of smoldering rubble. Johnny knows that the message has been sent. This is what happens when you mess with the Vandals. This is what happens when you hurt one of his own.
Long Road
When Benny is finally discharged from the hospital, he’s a shadow of the man you once knew. The powerful, confident presence he always carried has been stripped away, replaced by a hollow shell of uncertainty and pain.
His eyes, once so full of life and defiance, are now dim, the spark of confidence deadened by the trauma of his injuries. Benny struggles to navigate the world on crutches. His right leg remains, encased in a heavy cast with no promise that he’ll ever walk normally again. Each step up the stairs a painful reminder of how much life has changed for him.
You’ve already prepared the downstairs guest bedroom, anticipating that the stairs would be too much for him to handle. The room is decorated in deep, soothing shades of blue, with a large window offering a view of the garden.
All his clothing and medications are neatly arranged, and you’ve even brought a television into the space, knowing how much he loves to lose himself in movies and shows.
You wanted to create a space where Benny could feel comfortable, even if everything else in his life feels like it’s falling apart.
At first, Benny tries to hold onto some semblance of independence, but little by little, you watch as his dignity is stripped away. He can barely navigate the house without help, and you find yourself taking on the role of caregiver, administering his medications, changing his bandages, preparing his meals and changing the linens on his bed.
You help him every time he’s too weak to manage on his own, and each time you do, you see the shame flicker in his eyes.
When you dress him in the mornings he doesn’t even look you. With his body so tender and weak he does his best to pull his body through his clothing but always turns away in shame once you fully dress him, feeling unable to face you.
The hardest moments come when it’s time to bathe him. The once proud, strong man who could have easily overpowered you in the shower, now stands in silence, his foot propped on chair to keep his cast out. He watches you with a mixture of gratitude and deep, aching sadness as you carefully clean his body, avoiding the tender spots and bruises.
“You don’t have to do this,” Benny mutters one evening, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water. His head hangs low, his gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding your eyes.
“Benny, I want to,” you reply gently, wringing out a washcloth and carefully wiping down his arms. “You know I’m here for you, no matter what.”you warmly smile.
He swallows hard, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you,” he says, bitterness creeping into his voice. “Not like this… not like some goddamn invalid.”
You pause, your heart aching at the raw vulnerability in his words. “You’re still you, Benny,” you say softly, trying to meet his eyes. “This doesn’t change that. You’ll get through this, and I’ll be right here with you.”
He finally looks up at you, his eyes filled with a pain that’s deeper than any physical wound. “But what if I can’t?” he whispers, the fear and self-doubt he’s been hiding finally spilling out. “What if this is all that’s left of me?”
You reach out, taking his hand in yours, squeezing it gently. “We’ll face it together, Benny you’re not alone.”
Benny closes his eyes, his jaw clenched feeling his emotions they are inescapable. The strong, invincible man he used to be seems like a distant memory now, replaced by someone who’s been forced to confront his own fragility. And yet, even in his weakness, you see the man you fell in love with, the one who’s willing to fight, even if he doesn’t believe in himself anymore.
When the shower is over your dry his hair and body, wrapping the towel snugly around his waist. You help him out offering your hand as he struggles to step. The flickering memory of how powerful he used to be, how he used to pull you close, lifting you off your feet, flashes through your mind. Now, he’s unsteady, relying on your strength to make it back to bed.
“Thank you,” he murmurs as you guide him to the bed, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow.
You smile at him feeling a sense of comfort knowing how much he needs you. “I’m going to take good care of you Benny.” you promise him.
He doesn’t respond, just nods weakly, his head hanging low. You gently remove his towel and his hands rest on your shoulders for support as he carefully lifts his good leg stepping into his pajama pants. His other leg, encased in cast remains stationary. You kneel lower and guide the fabric over his foot, maneuvering it gently around the cast, ensuring not to jar it.
Benny bears most of his weight on his good leg, trying to keep his balance as you inch the pants up, past his thighs, and finally over his hips. His muscles tense with the effort, and you can see the strain in his expression as he tries to suppress the discomfort.
As you reach for his white tee, your eyes linger on the bruises expanding across his chiseled physique. The once smooth, unblemished skin is now a patchwork of deep purples, sickly yellows, and angry reds, the marks of his brutal attack etched deeply into his flesh. The bruises that spread across his ribs and abs are the darkest and most menacing you’ve ever seen.
You pull the shirt over his head, and as he lifts his arms, he winces, a sharp intake of breath escaping him. The severe pain is evident in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that he tries to hide, but it’s there, unmistakable.
The simple task of bathing and dressing is exhausting, and he lowers himself onto the bed ready to rest. You pull the covers over him, smoothing them down gently, and sit beside him, running your fingers through his hair.
“You’re still my Benny,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Nothing’s going to change that.”
For a moment, he closes his eyes, letting himself believe you, letting himself hope. But the road ahead is long, and you both know it.
Days turn into weeks and the independence Benny once cherished seems like a distant memory now replaced by the reality of his current limitations. But slowly, very slowly, there are small signs of progress.
As the bruises gradually fade, little by little he begins to regain strength in his movements. With each task he manages to do on his own, a flicker of determination returns to his eyes. The Benny you know is still there, fighting to reclaim his life, one small victory at a time.
One afternoon when he’s feeling able, you take him for a walk in the garden. The sun is warm on your skin, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves, and the scent of blooming flowers fills the air. You hold his arm, guiding him carefully with his crutch along the stone path. His steps are cautious, but he’s moving, and that alone fills you with hope.
As you walk, Benny’s eyes scan the garden and his gaze falls on a patch of overgrown weeds, beginning to overtake the roses. You can see the frustration flash in his eyes. In the past, he would’ve bent down and yanked those weeds out without a second thought, his strong hands making quick work of the task. But now, he just stands there, his hand tightening on your arm.
You see the pain in his expression, the way his jaw tightens, and you reach up to lovingly touch his face, whispering softly, “Soon enough, Benny.” You smile, trying to reassure him, but his gaze remains fixed on the task he can no longer fulfill.
You gently pull him close, resting your head against his chest, inhaling the familiar scent comforting and uniquely him.
You run your hand softly down his arm, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. For a brief moment, he looks down at you, his eyes meeting yours and catching the warmth in your gaze. But then he quickly looks away, his eyes growing distant again.
Your heart sinks, aching for the intimacy you’ve lost. You miss the way he used to hold you, the way his hands would roam your body, claiming you with a passion that left you breathless. Now, his touches are faint and suppressed as if that piece of him is missing.
Still, you cling to the small signs of his returning strength, feeling a thrill each time he manages something on his own. But the distance between you remains, a silent barrier that grows with each passing day.
At night, he sleeps with his back to you, the warmth of his body just out of reach, and you lie there, staring at the ceiling as you have for weeks, yearning for the connection you once had.
Your mind often drifts to those intimate moments in the dark, when his body would press against yours, his breath warm and reassuring against your neck. You remember the way his hands would roam over your skin, tracing every curve of your body seeking you out with a need that matched his own. His kiss, once so erotic and all consuming, would leave you breathless.
Even now, with him only inches away, lying with his back to you, those memories stir something deep within. Your breathing becomes unsteady, your heart racing as the desire forms, the familiar ache building with every thought of how he used to take you.
Without thinking, you suddenly reach out toward him, your hand hovering just above the space between you. The temptation to touch him is almost overwhelming. But then you notice the unevenness in his breathing, labored as he sleeps in pain.
You know all too well how damaged he is, barely able to move without wincing, and the thought makes you pause. The urge to touch him is strong, but the memory of his pain holds you back.
You remind yourself that he needs rest, not another reminder of what he can’t fully engage in right now. With a deep breath, you pull your hand back, feeling the ache of unfulfilled desire settle in your chest.
Whimpers
The next evening, as you prepare to bathe him, Benny catches your hand. “I can do it,” he insists, his voice firmer and there’s a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen in a long time. You hesitate, unsure whether to push back or let him try.
You nod slowly, watching as he stands inside the tub, his knee bent to keep his casted foot elevated on the chair placed just beside it. He’s determined to prove something, to you, and to himself. You know you should leave him to it, give him the privacy he needs, but something keeps you there, lingering just out of sight and you slowly realize you want to do more than just care for him.
Benny begins to wash himself, his movements slow and deliberate, the warm water cascading over his body, highlighting every ridge and curve of his muscular frame.
His broad shoulders, marked by dark bruises of purple and yellow, glisten under the light, the water tracing the powerful lines of his torso.
As he runs the cloth over his chest, the defined ridges of his abs become more pronounced, slick and firm beneath the sparse bruising.
His strong arms, glisten with water, his biceps and triceps flexing slightly as he carefully cleans around the tender areas. The water flows over his skin, accentuating every hard line of his muscles, making his body look both powerful and vulnerable in its raw strength and beauty.
Your breath catches as you watch him, a rush of arousal flooding through you making you quickly turn away, trying to suppress the heat rising within.
The memories of how powerful he used to be in bed flood your mind, the way he would take control, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him. The feel of his mouth on you, the way his hands would explore every inch of your body. You squeeze your knees together, your breaths coming faster unable to suppress your overwhelming arousal.
“Hey,” Benny’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn back to see him struggling to reach the towel. “Can you…?”
You’re at his side in an instant, handing him the towel. Once he’s dried off he wraps the towel around his waist and you help him to the sink.
He stands on his own, bearing more weight on his good leg while holding the counter’s edge. You watch as he brushes his teeth, the mundane task somehow taking on a new significance.
You join him, the two of you side by side, as you spit and rinse. He leans down to wash his face and you reach out, placing your hand soothingly on his back. You can feel the muscles flexing beneath his skin, still strong despite everything else, and you trail your fingers along his spine, lingering longer than you should.
When he dries his face and stands up, you both look at each other in the mirror. Benny’s hair is slicked back, still damp from the shower, and though his tan skin has paled from weeks spent indoors, he’s still so handsome that takes your breath away. The sharp lines of his face are softened by exhaustion, but there’s a ruggedness to him that you’ve always loved.
“You look very handsome, Benny,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He turns to you, and you stare at each other in the intimate space. The words he wants to say make his breath catch in his chest as if the thought of speaking them aloud is too much to bear.
His eyes flicker with uncertainty as he reaches out, his hand trembling slightly. He places it gently on your chest, his thumb lightly tracing over your skin in with a reverent touch, and before you can reach out to touch him, he lowers his eyes and pulls his hand away, the moment slipping through your fingers like sand.
The brief contact leaves you aching for him, a deep all consuming longing settles in your chest. When Benny reaches out to you again, your heart flutters, hope surging through you. But his voice soft and filled with hesitation as he breaks the silence. “Can you help me to bed?”
For a moment, dismay flickers through you, quickly replaced by a wave of guilt as you hear the tenderness in his request.
You push your physical thoughts of desire aside understanding how wounded he is and gently take his arm, guiding him with care toward the bed.
His weight bears heavily on you, the strain in his muscles evident as he struggles to maintain his balance.
He places one hand on the nightstand for balance as you hand him his soft pajama pants and a thin white undershirt. You watch for a moment as he pulls them on with slow, deliberate movements. A small smile tugs at your lips, seeing that he doesn’t need your help this time. Satisfied, you turn and head to the dresser, quickly slipping into your silk nightie.
You return to his side, carefully picking up each vial of his medications from the nightstand and dispensing the correct dosages into your palm.
Once he’s dressed, you bring him a glass of water, holding it steady as he takes his pills. You watch him swallow them down, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drains the glass. There’s a quiet intimacy in the moment, a routine you’ve fallen into, yet an aching distance lingers between you, a gap you can’t quite bridge.
Once he’s finally settled on his side with the covers pulled up to his waist, you climb into bed beside him, reaching over to click off the light.
As you’ve done all month, you lie back, staring at the ceiling. The guest bedroom is directly next to the garden, so you can watch the shadows of the trees sway above you. Their branches move gently in the night breeze, creating a dance of light and darkness across the ceiling.
The room is filled with the soft swaying of leaves outside, a sound that usually calms you, but tonight it only amplifies your desire for Benny.
You glance over at him, his back turned to you, his body tense even in the darkness. Your heart aches as you reach out, and this time your hand hesitantly touches his shoulder. His skin is warm beneath your fingers tips, his muscles tight and tense.
He doesn’t turn to face you, but his voice breaks the silence, low and heavy with an emotion you can’t quite recognize. “I don’t want to be like this anymore,” he whispers, his words so soft they almost disappear into the air.
You keep your hand on his shoulder, feeling the conflict within him, the war between his pride and his vulnerability. You know what you’re about to do is impulsive, but you can’t stop yourself. The need to reconnect with him, to feel that intimacy again, the thought is overwhelming. Slowly, you slide closer, turning and wrapping your arms around him from behind.
You press a soft kiss to Bennys neck and his body tenses at your touch, his breath catching in his throat. “…Baby...” Benny whispers, his voice shaky, filled with uncertainty and apprehension.
“Shh,” you whisper softly, pressing your lips to the back of his neck again feeling the slight tremor that runs through him “Let me take care of you Benny.”
Your hand moves down, sliding beneath his waistband, your fingers brushing against his warm skin as you reach between his legs. You find his thick shaft, soft and unresponsive gently curling your hand around it. As you begin to stroke him softly, his hand suddenly rests on top of yours, stopping you.
“I can’t..” he whispers, his voice breaking, the words filled with so much pain and defeat that it tears at your heart. You can almost hear his pride shatter, the sound of it reverberating in the stillness of the room.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper softly feeling the depth of his anguish. You withdraw your hand, placing it instead on his back, rubbing soothing circles over his tight muscles, trying to comfort him the only way you can. “It’s alright, Benny. We don’t have to do anything. I’m here for you, no matter what.” You say reassuringly.
Benny doesn’t respond, but you can feel how he shakes slightly with each breath. The vulnerability he’s showing is both heartbreaking and precious, a side of him he’s never allowed anyone else to see.
You continue to rub his back, your touch gentle and soothing gradually feeling the tension in his muscles begin to ease under your hand as his breathing starts to slow.
The warmth of his skin under your fingertips and the scent of him so close stir something deep within you, the familiar ache forming involuntarily between your legs.
You quickly lay back, squeezing your thighs together, a soft sigh escaping your lips trying to calm yourself. But in the heat of the moment, driven by impulse, your fingers slip over the silk of your nightie and reach into the lace of your panties.
You find your aching clit, swollen and sensitive, and begin to circle it with a feather light touch. Each gentle stroke sends waves of pleasure through you, blending with the soothing caress of Benny’s back.
Your breaths grow rapid, heart pounding as you chase the edge of release, your fingers dancing over your sensitive skin. The weight of your emotional turmoil heightening your desire, leaving you craving the sweet relief of climax.
You keep your movements soft and quiet, not wanting to disturb Benny but the need is all consuming.
Benny shifts slightly, and at first, he seems oblivious, lost in his own pain. But then, you feel him turn over, his eyes locking with yours as he notices the subtle movements beneath the sheet.
Your hand slows to a stop feeling the uncertainty creeping in. For a moment, the room falls into a hush, the tension undeniable as you take a breath. His gaze lingers, full of curiosity and something deeper, as he takes in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the delicate rise and fall of your chest.
Without a word, Benny slowly pulls the sheets down, exposing your body to the cool night air. His gaze dark and intense as his eyes fixate on your hand nestled between your legs.
He looks back into your eyes searching and understanding what you need. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he reaches out, his hand hovering just above yours for a moment, the anticipation building between you.
Then, with a delicate touch, he guides his hand gently slipping it over yours within your lace panties.
The warmth of his touch sends a wave of arousal through you and your heart skips a beat as his fingers press lightly against yours, guiding your movements and urging you to continue.
You feel a sense of surprise and relief as his hand squeezes yours, intensifying the pressure on your clit.The room fills with the soft, slick sounds of your wetness, his fingers moving seamlessly over yours feeling the rhythmic thrust of your fingers into yourself as your arousal spreads across your inner thighs.
Your heart races, and your breath hitches as he begins to guide your hand faster, pressing your palm against your swollen clit harder. Soft moans begin to escapes your lips and the sound ignites something deep within Benny.
With a steady hand, he gently removes your fingers, and replaces them with his own. His fingers glide up and down your soaked folds until they are slick with wetness then he slowly eases them deep inside of you.
A desperate moan falls from your lips being deprived of his touch for so long, the feeling of his fingers is profound as they fill you with a satisfying depth that makes your breath catch.
Your wetness coats his thrusting fingers as he moves them expertly within you , his touch is steady despite his injuries and the sound of your slickness fills the room, mixing with your pleasurable soft moans.
Benny is fully focused on you and slowly moves closer pressing his body against yours. You can feel the heat radiating from him, intensifying the connection between you even more.
His fingers glide in and out of you with deliberate firm strokes, expertly teasing, and coaxing you toward release. Your core throbs with need, tightening with each pass of his fingers, until you’re overwhelmed by the way he knows exactly how to bring you to the brink.
You moan loudly feeling your body quivering as the pressure builds inside you and Benny moves his fingers faster.
He is focused entirely on you and the way your body responds to him, driving him to push you even further, making you feel everything you’ve been missing.
He presses his thumb to your aching clit and circles it with relentless precision building the pleasure so high it’s almost unbearable.
Your legs tremble as your hands clutch the sheets, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you endure the overwhelming sensation. The pressure inside of you coils tighter and tighter, until you’re at the brink of inevitable release.
“..Come for me baby ” Benny finally says having a surge of confidence knowing he’ll be able to satisfy you. “Show me how much you need me” he says craving your pleasure to rebuild his own.
And with a final, expert thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your climax hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. Your body convulses, your core tightening around his fingers as you cry out, the sound echoing through the room.
You pant heavily, your chest heaving as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks. The release is so powerful, you feel lightheaded, your mind spinning from the intense pleasure.
Benny withdraws his fingers slowly, his touch gentle as he pulls them from your throbbing core and he looks at you, his eyes dark with a desire you haven’t seen in a long time.
For a moment neither of you move, the silence only being broken by the sound of your labored breaths.
Benny’s eyes lock onto yours, a silent plea lingering in their depths as he glances down at your lips. The intimacy undeniably as he leans in, closing the distance with a slow, deliberate kiss.
His lips are warm and soft against yours, moving hesitantly at first, almost cautiously, as if he’s rediscovering something precious. His kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slide gently into your mouth, coaxing a moan from you as explores with a slow, deliberate rhythm making your heart race.
The taste of him, and the way his lips and tongue move against yours, send sparks of pleasure racing down your spine.
Your hands finally reach him, roaming over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth of his skin and you find yourself wanting to give him back the pleasure he’s just given you.
Your hand moves lower, slipping beneath his waistband, seeking out his cock. Your touch is gentle at first, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft with a tender reverence. He’s only slightly hard, a stark contrast to how he used to be fully erect at the mere sight of you.
You can feel the hesitation in his body, the way he tenses, the lingering effects of pain and doubt clouding his response. You stroke him softly, trying to coax him to full arousal, but his cock remains the same, the weight of his injury hanging over him, holding him back.
Benny breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours, trying to find the right words, the right way to explain why he’s not quite ready. You meet his gaze, your voice soft and filled with understanding, “Teach me how to please you with my mouth, Benny,” you say with a blend of tenderness and desire.
His eyes darken with a mix of conflict and lust. For a moment, he hesitates, then slowly nods, the need in him beginning to overpower his reservations. “Yeah,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’ll show you.”
Benny sits up, easing himself back to rest against the headboard. You gently slide your fingers to the hem of his undershirt, slowly lifting it over his head. As you pull the shirt off, your eyes trace the contours of his muscled body, each bruise telling a story of his pain, but also stirring something deeper inside you, a desire to make him feel good again.
The sight of him, strong yet vulnerable ignites a longing in your core. You place a pillow behind his back and with gentle hands, you begin to remove his pajama pants, easing them over his cast. Once fully naked Benny spreads his legs apart, making room for you as you settle between his thighs.
His body tenses with anticipation as you take in the sight of his cock, long and thick, though not yet fully hard, resting with an impressive weight between his legs. When you look up at him, there’s a mix of vulnerability and desire in his eyes, a silent plea for what’s to come.
You start slowly, kissing the sensitive skin along his inner thighs, feeling the slight tremor in his muscles as he reacts to your touch. Your lips trail closer to his cock, building the anticipation.
Benny watches you intently, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as you finally kiss the head of his cock. Your warm tongue swirling around the tip, teasing him as you glance up at him through your lashes, silently asking him to guide you.
“That… feels good” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “Keep going…” he urges, his eyes filled with a raw intensity experiencing pleasure for the first time in what feels like forever.
You take his cock into your mouth feeling him harden against your tongue. His hips twitch involuntarily as you create a delicious suction, making him groan. You swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting a hint of saltiness that quickly dissipates, and he groans again, louder this time, the sound desperate and raw making your core throb with need.
“That’s it…” Benny mutters, his voice filled with satisfaction as his hand rests gently on your head lacing his fingers gently through your hair.
He lifts his hips slightly, wanting to push himself deeper into your mouth and you can feel the power shifting within him, his desire overtaking his initial hesitation.
“Take it …deeper” he urges, his hand tightening in your hair, guiding you as his cock fills your mouth completely causing an ache in your jaw.
You continue to glide your mouth along his heavy cock and it throbs against your tongue, growing harder with every suck.
“K-keep going, baby…” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, his need evident in every word as he savors the way you suck him off.
His tip brushes the back of your throat, and you slightly gag, the sensation causing your throat to tighten around him. The feel of it draws a deep groan from him, the pleasure undeniable.
Staring down at you, his eyes darken with lust as you try to take more of his cock and he groans in pleasure, savoring every gag of your inexperience as you keep going.
His grip on your hair tightens his breathes sharp as he begins to guide your head up and down on his throbbing cock.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, driven by the need to satisfy him, to give him everything he’s silently demanding.
His cock swells even harder and the pressure becomes too much, making it difficult for you to go on. A desperate whimper escapes your throat that vibrates his shaft and he groans in pleasure watching your body begin trembling with every effort.
His grip on your hair tightens as he fights the urge to take more from you realizing you’re giving him everything, pushing yourself to your limits and it makes his cock throb with an almost painful intensity.
His eyes go dark with a deep, simmering arousal craving more than just the pleasure of your mouth.
The thought of claiming you, of burying himself deep within you, overtakes him, and with a sudden, urgent need, he pulls your mouth all the way off his cock.
“I want all of you,” he confesses, his voice weaker and filled with urgency. You’re so desperate to feel him inside of you after pleasing his cock , that you don’t hesitate for a second.
His breath catches in his throat as you eagerly climb from between his legs, your excitement and longing undeniable as you straddle his lap feeling how wet you are as you position yourself on him.
He winces from the sudden movements and you see the pain you’ve caused, but your desire for him overtakes everything as you capture his mouth in a heated kiss.
He whimpers against your lips as your fingertips glide down his ribs over his bruises.
His body weakened from the beating he endured, makes every movement take more effort than usual, but having you like this, so eager and willing, makes him feel something special something powerful despite his condition.
It’s more than just desire, it’s the realization that even in his vulnerable state, you still want him, you still crave to have him.
You begin slowly grinding against his hardened cock, feeling the friction through the thin fabric of your panties and it makes Benny moan in your mouth.
He tries to continue kissing your lips, but the sensation of you moving on top of him is almost too much to bear and his body trembles slightly beneath you.
His hands slide up your sides, creeping under your nightie. He breaks the kiss just long enough to pull the nightie over your head, tossing it aside with a flick of his wrist. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of your breasts cupping each one with a tender squeeze. His fingers linger on your skin before they trail down, finding the waistband of your panties
Without a second thought, he digs his fingers into the lace and rips them apart. The sound of the fabric tearing makes you gasp, his lust for you intensified by his unrestrained need to take you.
He pulls you back into a searing kiss, wincing briefly as his battered ribs protest, but he doesn’t let it stop him. The intimacy between you is intense with the blend of vulnerability and raw desire making every touch, every kiss, feel profound and deeply intimate.
You break the kiss and rise slightly, allowing his hard cock to spring free and you both look down to watch it sway. Now painfully hard and thick it stands proudly. His shaft taunt and veiny, throbbing with need his tip red and swollen with arousal.
He shudders suddenly feeling his blood coursing so quickly, his breaths heavier, each one a mix of anticipation and the lingering pain from his injuries.
“I don’t want to hurt you Benny,” you say softly, your heart pounding with a mix of longing and regret.
You can hear his uneven breaths as his chest rises and falls, fighting to push past the discomfort. The strain in his eyes is evident, one still darkened by a bruise, revealing the toll his injuries are taking on him.
You reach up gently and lightly rub your thumb over the bruise, your touch tender as you try to soothe him, offering a silent comfort in the midst of his struggle.
“You won’t hurt me, baby,” he promises, and there’s a determination in his blue eyes that tells you he’s not backing down. He wants this as much as you do.
“Alright, Benny,” you whisper, surrendering to the pull of your desire. You cup his jaw, your touch gentle but filled with an urgent need as you bring your lips to his. The kiss is both tender and consuming, and you can feel the heavy breaths of exertion spilling into your mouth as his hands slide up to your waist.
Despite the pain radiating through his body, Benny’s resolve doesn’t waver. He’s determined to fulfill both your needs, to reclaim what you’ve both been missing.
His hands slide down your hips grasping firm, as he slowly begins guiding you down onto him.
His cock presses against your entrance and the resistance is immediate, your body sealed tight without him for so long. You can feel his breath hitch as he tries again, this time with force. His hands shake on your waist as he pushes into you with raw determination.
A shared moan tears from both of you, the sound raw, and desperate, as his cock finally penetrates, solid and unyielding, your walls gripping him with an unforgiving tightness.
You bury your face into his neck, moaning as his grip on you tightens, his hands steadying you as he pushes deeper, breaking himself into you, inch by inch.
“It’s alright, baby,” he breathes, his voice strained but reassuring, each exhale warm against your skin. His body trembles beneath you, his muscles tensing as he fights through the pain, but he refuses to stop. There’s something driving him, a need to claim you, to bury himself inside you until the pain is a distant memory.
You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pushes deeper. A loud moan spills from your lips as he finally fills you completely, holding you firmly in his lap, his control relenting as he waits, letting the initial discomfort melt into a wave of intense pleasure. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, every pulse sending jolts of sensation through your core
“I missed you baby,” Benny confesses, resting his forehead against yours, his breaths ragged and uneven as he feels your walls pleasurably tighten around his cock.
“I missed you too, Benny,” you pant, your lips brushing soft kisses against his, enduring the throbbing ache and the intense fullness of having him deep inside you again.
His hands move down to your hips, his grip firm and steady as he guides you in a slow, deliberate rhythm pulling you against him pressing you deeper into his lap as he curses under his breath.
“Fuck ….you feel good,” he whispers, his words heavy with raw desire as his blue eyes meet yours, filled with a vulnerability and intense yearning.
You bring your hands to his jaw, cradling his face as you kiss him softly. Your lips brushing over his filled with longing and he guides your hips to roll down in his lap harder, making you take every inch of his cock deeper.
You both moan into each others mouths feeling the waves of ecstasy surge through your core and Benny feels every inch of him consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of gliding tightly inside your walls again.
His moans turn into soft whimpers as you increase the pace, riding him harder clinging to the back of his neck. You pull him closer, using him for leverage as you glide down faster and harder on his cock.
The sharp sting of his injuries and the soreness of his bruises intensify each time you settle on him, but he holds on to the overwhelming pleasure wanting more despite the pain.
His breaths come in short, shallow gasps as he looks at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in his eyes, his body protesting, strained from each painful effort.
“Don’t stop,” he pants, his voice weak, almost pleading, as his hips push up against you, his body chasing the pleasure you’re giving him. His cock is rock hard and throbbing with need as he grabs your hips, pulling you deeper into his lap, making you take him fully.
“Yes, Benny!” you cry out, your body arching into him as he guides you to ride him harder, his hands gripping your hips almost painfully, driving his cock deeper, claiming you completely.
The sound of his light breathy and whimpers resonate within you, sending a thrill through your entire body as you watch him trying not to lose himself.
You lean in kissing him deeply and his whimpers are muffled against your mouth as you feel the pleasure of his thick cock gliding in and out of your walls.
His grasp tightens on your hips his fingers digging in desperately, determined to stay with you despite the pain, his need for you overriding everything else.
You grind down on him with force, feeling his cock push deeper inside you and a loud, desperate moan tears from his throat
His heart pounds wildly as he struggles to hold on, the pleasure of being inside you driving him to the very edge.
Every thrust, every touch, every gasp shared between you feels like a reclaiming of something lost. You feel the press of his chest against yours, the frantic beat of his heart, and the desperate way his hands grasp your body.
“I-I’m close… n-need to come…,” he pants, his voice trembling, each word filled with the sound of his struggle to hold on just a little longer.
You hold him closer, your breath warm and seductive against his ear. “Come for me Benny,” you whisper pressing your body closer, moving in perfect rhythm with him, intensifying his pleasure and urging him toward release.
His touch lightens momentarily, his hands guiding your movements to ride him slower, the weakness in his body clashing with the desire raging inside him.
But then, with a deep, guttural groan, he tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fights to reclaim control.
“I wanna… feel you come for me,” he breathes, his voice rough with determination. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he places one hand on the bed for stability. He bends his un-injured leg for support and thrusts his cock into you such precision it sends shockwaves of pleasure surging through your core.
“Benny oh god!” you scream in pleasure your walls clenching with every thrust of his cock, driving him to push you further.
“Fuck!” he cries out, his hands gripping you tighter as he drives his cock even harder, reclaiming a depth that makes your eyes roll back in pleasure. “That’s it…” he says through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “Take it all,” he says with effort, his voice thick with intensity.
Your fingers tangle in his hair as you moan loudly against him, pulling him closer as he fills you over and over again with a depth that has you seeing stars. His breaths are shallow and ragged against your neck filled with every effort it takes for him to keep going.
His eyes remain locked on you, watching every flicker of pleasure that crosses your face, his own need to see you unravel consuming him, pushing him to hold on just a little longer, to push you over the edge.
You can hear the change in him, the way his voice catches with every thrust, his moans breaking into breathless pants. The deep, primal groans and the whimpers of pleasure that slip out when he can’t hold back.
“Let me feel it,” he pleads, his voice strained, his blue eyes locked on yours with a desperate intensity. “I need to feel you come.” He breathes, the need in his eyes is unmistakable he’s silently begging to be taken with you.
Your pleasure builds to a peak, and with one final thrust, he hits that perfect spot deep inside of you, sending you spiraling into an intense orgasm.
Your body tenses, your nails digging into his shoulders. You cry out his name, your muscles clenching rhythmically around his cock.
Benny can feel every pulse and shudder of your release, and his groans become louder, more uncontrolled against you, the pain that once held him back replaced by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure.
His cock throbs inside your walls, and you can feel his entire body tensing, every muscle coiled tight as he nears his release.
With a final, broken moan, Benny gasps, “I’m gonna—” his words are cut off by a strangled moan as his orgasm crashes over him. His hips jerk violently against you and he releases, his cock pulsing as he spills into you.
You moan loudly, feeling the warm rush of his cum flood your walls and his body trembles with the intensity of his climax, every ounce of pain gone, replaced by the addictive high of pleasure.
His breaths come out hot and ragged against your neck, each exhale trembling with the remnants of his pleasure. He buries his face there, nuzzling against your skin as he softly pants and whimpers next to your ear.
You stay there, still connected, as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through your bodies, entwined in a profound connection of intimacy. Every exhale of his breath against your skin a testament to his determination, a silent promise that he gave you everything he had left.
You gently trail your fingertips along his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly melt away as he rests into you, his body still trembling slightly from the exertion.
As he holds you in his lap, you can feel the rapid, wild beating of his heart against yours, his sharp breaths the only sound in the quiet room, echoing softly against your neck.
“I love you so much Benny,” you whisper, your voice tender and filled with emotion as you feel him relax even more, his grip on you softening as he sinks deeper into the comfort of your embrace.
“I love you too, baby,” he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice warm and affectionate, his breaths weak uneven. With a gentle exhale against your skin he places a soft, lingering kiss on your shoulder.
His body rests heavily against yours as his breaths become softer and the weight of him begins pressing down on you as he struggles to stay awake.
“Benny, you need to rest,” you whisper gently, trying to rouse him from exhaustion.
“Alright,” he relents and his voice barely audible as every muscle in his body seems to weaken, the weight of fatigue pressing down on him.
Carefully you sit up, feeling the lingering warmth of his embrace as you place your hands gently over his chest. You slowly lift your hips up sliding his large cock from deep within your walls, hearing a faint slick sound as the tip finally slips out making both of you moan softly from loss of contact.
He gazes up at you affectionately, and you notice a look of deep satisfaction in his eyes one you haven’t seen in a long time.
“You feel good, Benny?” you ask with an affectionate smile. His blue eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he looks up at you, his full lips parting as he pants for breath.
“Yeah” he breathes with a smile. You grin gently threading your fingers through his hair cradling the back of his head in your hands. You lean in and place a kiss on his forehead filled with pride and deep satisfaction.
The warmth of your touch and the gentle press of your lips make his eyes flutter closed as a soft sigh escapes his lips relaxing completely.
His arms hold you close as he presses his face against your chest, savoring the safety and comfort you bring him. The connection between you feels deeper than ever, a silent understanding that speaks volumes of your love for each other.
As Benny slowly releases you from his embrace, his arms tremble slightly with exhaustion. He shifts his body lower, his movements slow and unsteady as he places his palms on the bed for support.
You give him space as he lowers himself down, the effort leaving him almost too weak to move as he settles on the bed next to you.
With his final moments of strength, Benny pulls you into his strong arms, wrapping them around you in a protective embrace. You can feel the strain on his muscles, the way they tremble slightly, as if he’s trying to convey everything he feels through the simple act of holding you close.
His chest still rises and falls with soft breaths, a reminder of how much he’s given, how deeply he’s pushed past his own limits just to be with you.
“It’s okay, Benny,” you whisper softly, your thumb tracing comforting patterns along his cheek. “Just rest now… I’m not going anywhere.” You say softly, hoping to soothe the lingering tension in his body.
A soft sigh escapes his lips as he relaxes against you, his body slowly giving in to the exhaustion. His eyes flutter closed as sleep finally overtakes him. His grip on you loosens but his hands still hold you close, even in sleep.
The tension and pain that had been etched on his face gradually turn into peaceful serenity, and the faintest hint of a smile forms on his lips, a quiet sign that tonight a part of Benny has been reclaimed.
His Resolve
You and Benny are fully aware of Johnny’s fiery retribution with the Vandals after the injuries Benny sustained, it was impossible to miss.
The news had been plastered all over the papers and television, detailing how the Lakeside bar had been burned to the ground while Benny recovered in the hospital.
As Benny lay in bed, fresh out of surgery, it was the first time you heard him laugh since his injuries. The sound was weak and raspy, filled with a mix of satisfaction and respect for what his brotherhood had done on his behalf. It was a glimpse of the old Benny shining through.
Now, with Benny slowly regaining his strength over the past few weeks, it’s no surprise when you hear the faint rumble of a motorcycle in the distance as you wash the dishes.
You quickly go to collect Benny’s plate from lunch in the living room. He’s resting back on the couch, his leg propped up comfortably on an ottoman as he watches I Dream of Jeanie.
As you reach for his empty plate, you pause to observe him. The moment Benny hears the familiar rumble of a motorcycle approaching the house, he sits up, his eyes lighting up with unmistakable excitement.
“That has to be Johnny,” Benny says, a grin spreading across his face. You manage a weak smile, but inside, you can’t shake the resentment that’s formed, knowing Benny’s injuries were caused because he was beaten for wearing his colors.
Benny quickly tries to get up, grabbing the couch for support, but he struggles to gain his footing, his heart racing with too much excitement. In his haste, he knocks his crutch to the floor, reaching for it in futility, unable to pick it up.
“Benny, sit,” you say warmly, guiding him back down onto the couch. “I’ll bring him here. You’ll have plenty of time to run around once you’re fully healed,” you add, placing his crutch to rest on the arm of the couch.
“Alright, baby,” he says, and you look into his eager blue eyes as he tries to contain his excitement.
You reach the front door just as Johnny knocks. He grins as soon as he sees you. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets, his voice carrying that familiar teasing tone. “Where’s the crippled old man?” he adds playfully.
“He’s in the living room,” you gesture with a warm smile. Johnny follows you inside, his boots echoing softly against the floor as he makes his way down the hall.
As you both enter the living room, Benny is relaxed with his arms spread across the back of the couch, practically vibrating with excitement. He’s trying to play it cool, but you can see how much he’s been looking forward to this moment.
“Look at you, all propped up like the queen,” Johnny teases, his eyes flicking to Benny’s casted foot resting on the ottoman.
“Who you calling Queen?” Benny shoots back, grinning broadly, his tone playful but carrying a hint of the old fire that’s been missing.
Johnny grins as he plops down next to Benny, pulling out a carton of cigarettes. He hands one to Benny and places another between his own lips. With a flick of his lighter, they’re both soon smoking together, the air quickly filling with the familiar haze.
“You look good, Benny. You look alright,” Johnny compliments, but then he notices you still standing in the entryway.
“Oh, you mind if we smoke in here, seeing as Benny’s all fucked up?” he asks, glancing at you.
“That’s fine, Johnny,” you reply, feeling a bit out of place. You walk over to the television and turn the volume down, trying to make yourself useful.
Johnny quickly turns his attention back to Benny. “The guys thought you might be really out of it,” he says, nodding toward Benny’s cast.
“He is out of it. He can’t walk, Johnny,” you interject, crossing your arms.
“What did the surgeon say?” Johnny asks, completely ignoring your comment.
Benny takes a drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up as he exhales. “They cut through a tendon,” he says, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
“Jesus,” Johnny exclaims. “They tie it back together or what?”
“Yeah, something like that,” Benny replies, exhaling a stream of smoke.
The tension of feeling unwanted in the room makes you uncomfortable, especially as you see them both deep in conversation. With Benny clearly not needing you for anything you quickly excuse yourself, heading to the kitchen to make them drinks and give them space to talk.
The banter between Benny and Johnny flows easily and naturally, you hear Benny laugh loudly several times the sound echoing through the house as he has a fit.
You smile hearing him so happy and then feel a bitterness rising that you’ve never made him laugh that way.
The thought gnaws at you, and before you realize it, you’re squeezing the lemons more aggressively, the juice splattering as you make the lemonade.
When you enter the living room with the two glasses, the air is now thick with smoke. Johnny and Benny are just finishing their conversation as you hand Benny his fresh lemonade.
“We’d sure love to see you out there. It’s gonna be a big one, maybe the biggest one yet!” Johnny says enthusiastically.
“Biggest what?” you ask, curious, as you offer the other glass of lemonade to Johnny.
“I’m good, thanks,” he says, waving it off, still engrossed in their discussion.
“It’s a picnic,” Benny explains to you. “Johnny says they’re going all out for the Daytona one,” he continues, before turning to Johnny. “How long is that, eight weeks away?”
“Yeah,” Johnny confirms.
“I mean, I’ll still be in a cast by then, but—”
“A cast?!” Johnny interrupts. “Nah, nah, you can shift with your left foot. You can always use your front brake if ya can’t put no pressure on it,” he says, gesturing to Benny’s cast.
Benny thinks it over as he takes a drag from his cigarette and Johnny seeing his hesitation uses the brotherhood to lure his decision.
“You know the guys..the guys would love to see ya out there. They’re all really worried about you.”he says earnestly
Feeling irritated by the smoke and being ignored, you place Johnny’s untouched lemonade down on the mantle harder than you intended, the glass clinking sharply.
You walk to the window, sliding it up forcefully and hitting it into place with several loud whacks as the fresh air immediately rushes in.
Hearing their conversation halt mid-sentence, you turn to see both Johnny and Benny looking at you with their brows raised in concern.
The weight of their gaze makes you feel exposed, as if they’ve noticed the frustration you’ve been trying to hide all along.
Benny then turn to Johnny and makes his decision without you. “I’ll be there,” he says with certainty, his tone final.
“Alright” Johnny says with a wide grins clearly pleased with Bennys decision. “ I’ll get out of here,” Johnny says as he gets up. “You rest,” he adds, pointing at the cast. Benny smirk as he takes another long drag from cigarette.
Johnny gives you a brief nod, “sweetheart” he says his eyes barely meeting yours before he turns and heads for the door. He leaves without another word, his abruptness toward you making you feel slighted.
The front door slams shut, the sound grating on your nerves, amplifying the irritation that’s already boiling inside of you.
You stand there for a moment, piecing together the conversation and the choice Benny made without consulting you. The tension in the room thickens, your earlier discomfort now edged with frustration.
You walk closer to Benny, crossing your arms as you look over him relaxed against the couch smoking his cigarette with a careless ease.
“You wouldn’t really ride your motorcycle injured with a cast would Benny?” you ask, concern lacing your voice.
“I dunno,” he replies, waving his cigarette hand through the air dismissively. “Turn up the TV, would you?” He says in irritation hating that his injury prevents him from doing the simplest things himself.
But you stand firm, unmoving. “I don’t want you riding, Benny,” you say sternly.
He slowly glances over at you, raising an eyebrow at your firmness.
“Yeah, it scares me especially this soon after surgery. I don’t like it,” you continue, doubling down on your resolve.
Benny’s eyes narrow, his head tilting slightly. “You don’t like it?” he repeats, his voice carrying an edge as he squints at you.
“I get worried!” you say louder, the thought of him permanently injuring himself just to prove something to Johnny and the Vandals making your heart pound with anxiety.
The silence that follows your words is heavy with tension, and you can feel the growing distance between you and Benny with each passing second.
Benny takes a long drag from his cigarette, staring off into the distance, lost in thought as he weighs his options. His jaw tightening as you watch the internal struggle playing out in his mind.
“I should just go,” he finally says, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his voice steady tinged with an underlying sadness.
His eyes flicker with a cold, distant determination, as he nods slightly. “I should just leave,” he repeats, the words heavy with finality.
His words hang in the air, and you feel your heart drop, the realization hitting you hard that he’s considering genuinely leaving again.
“What?” you respond, your voice rising in pitch as your resolve begins to soften.
He nods his head, a look of realization crossing his face as he stares off blankly into the distance.
“It’s better this way. You’d be better off,” he finally says, his voice low and steady. He raises the cigarette to his lips with a deliberate slowness, taking a long, drawn out drag, the smoke lingering as he exhales, solidifying the weight of his words.
“Stop it! Stop it!” you cry out, your voice trembling with desperation as the fear creeps in gripping your heart.
The memory of the last time he abandoned you abruptly flashing through your mind, he left you without a second thought once his mind was set, leaving you shattered and utterly alone. The panic begins to set in, a cold, suffocating sensation that makes it hard to breathe.
Benny continues, the hurt in his voice becoming more evident, “You wouldn’t have to take care of me, worry about me…”he says revealing the truth he’s been harboring.
You shake your head frantically, tears welling up in your eyes as you tremble at the implications of what he’s saying.
He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting his words sink in before exhaling slowly.
“When I heal up, I’ll leave,” he says with cold finality, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, as if the words are a sentence he’s already decided on.
The statement hits you hard, knocking the breath out of you, and you take a moment to gather your resolve.
Benny doesn’t say anything more and leans forward to stub out his cigarette, the action slow and deliberate, like he’s putting the final seal on a decision that’s been weighing on him for far too long.
He leans back, arms outstretched, a look of painful acceptance on his saddened face, torn between what he feels is right and what he desires.
In a moment of quiet understanding, you slowly sit on the couch beside Benny, finally able to see what he has always needed most of all. Your acceptance of his resolve, the need to do what he feels he must even when you don’t agree with the decision.
As you look up at him, your eyes are filled with a mix of sorrow and reluctant understanding, fully grasping that he’s been struggling with.
Benny meets your eyes with a look of determination and coldness, his emotions buried deep behind a wall of detachment.
Knowing exactly what he needs in this moment you lean against him and wrap your arms gently around his torso holding him closely and providing him the love and comfort he so desperately needs.
You nestle into him and press your face gently against his chest as he looks down at you with a sternness and confusion in his gaze but then, gradually, his expression softens and he wraps his strong arms around you and pulls you close with a grip that is both possessive and protective.
His face buries into your hair, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly begin to ease, knowing that even though you don’t agree with his decision, you still accept him for who he is.
His hands thread through your hair, cradling your head as he holds you against his chest. The silence between you is heavy with unspoken words until you finally break it.
“Benny, I don’t want you to go,” you relent, your voice soft, filled with a final act of surrender, understanding that he will do what he feels he must.
He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering as he deeply inhales your scent, something so beautiful and sweet, something that anchors him when he feels lost.
His thumbs gently trace reassuring circles on your back as he rests his head against yours, no longer torn between his loyalty to the brotherhood and his love for you.
In this moment, the conflict within him fades away,and he feels completely at peace in your embrace more grounded and connected than he has ever felt before in his life.
Just you
At night, as Benny stands in the shower, the warm water cascading over his tired muscles, he has only one thing on his mind…you. The steam fills the small bathroom, clouding the mirror as he steps out, dries off, and brushes his teeth.
He uses the door frame to steady himself as he makes his way to the nightstand, his movements slower as he balances on his uninjured leg but he’s determined to do everything himself to prove himself to you.
He quickly takes his medications, and climbs into bed, the cool sheets a welcome relief against his warm skin.
When you enter the bedroom, Benny’s heart skips a beat at the sight of you. You’re wearing a silk robe, which you slowly slip off to reveal a delicate nightie underneath. The fabric clings to your curves in a way that stirs something deep within him, awakening a longing to create something passionately between you.
As you glance around the room, you notice that Benny has already taken care of himself. He’s brushed his teeth, taken his medications, and is already tucked in, waiting for you.
“Do you need help with anything, Benny?” you ask softly, your voice tinged with pride, knowing he managed to take care of everything on his own.
Benny’s eyes lock onto yours from where he’s resting in bed. For a moment, you see a flicker of something …lust, perhaps, but then it’s gone, replaced by a steady, confident gaze. “Just you,” he says, his voice low, the words laced with an undertone that sends a thrill through you.
A smile plays on your lips as you nod feeling a sudden blush creeps up your cheeks from his words. “Alright, Benny, I won’t be long,” you say sweetly, heading to the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face for the night.
Benny watches you go, a spark of desire igniting in his chest, seeing the soft sway of your hips, the gentle curves of your body. He aches with longing, his eyes following your every step, craving the closeness that’s just out of reach.
He lays back against his pillow, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to show you how much he needs you, how deeply he loves you. His cock is already swelling with desire, hardening at the mere thought of you.
When you return and climb into bed with him you reach over and click off the light, plunging the room into the darkness of moonlight. With a small, sigh, you settle in, your body turned from Benny as you prepare for the usual nights sleep.
But Benny shifts in bed moving closer, his hand reaching out gently brushing against your hip. His touch soft and tender, a silent request for intimacy as he waits for your response.
You feel the eagerness in his touch and feeling a bit slighted from your argument earlier you teasingly ignore him.
He grows bolder, his fingers gripping your hip with a firm but gentle pressure, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles along the curve. Despite his advances, you stay unyielding.
“Baby,” he finally says softly, his voice low and pleading with desire. “I need you…”
His hand lingers poised on your hip awaiting for your response and you cover your mouth unable to stifle the soft unmistakable sound of a giggle that escapes.
Benny smiles understanding your playful challenge.
“You gonna make me work for it tonight, hm?” he asks, his voice low and teasing as his hand trails slowly along your side, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through you.
A soft sigh escapes your lips as you nod, feeling the spark of anticipation growing between you. You bite your lip, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. “Mm-hm,” you confirm with a nod.
Benny’s smiles slowly trailing his finger tips down your shoulder, his touch tantalizing and deliberate, sending a warm shiver through your body.
“I can’t get enough of you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with longing. “Seeing you in your little nightie and now you teasing me like this..,” he says, pulling gently at the silk strap, his fingers brushing against your skin.
“Now I need you, more than anything,” he confirms, his voice thick with desire as he leans in closer. His breath is soft against your neck. His chest presses firmly against your back as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you intimately against him. “Don’t tease me like this baby,” he breathes into your ear, his lips grazing your skin.
You close your eyes, trying to hold onto your resolve, but the heat of his body and the intensity in his voice start to warm you up to his touch as you slowly give in. “Benny…,” you begin, your voice soft and breathless, but he shushes you with a quiet “shhh,” his breath warm against your ear as his hand slides down your side, the silk of your nightie gliding smoothly under his fingers as he teasing the edges of your panties with a feather-light touch.
“Mm Mmn, you wanted to tease me remember?” he says, his voice laced with a hint of satisfaction. “Now it’s my turn,” he continues, his tone deepening as his fingers widen their grasp, exploring your body with a possessive touch keeping you on edge. He draws out your anticipation with every firm deliberate squeeze. “Let’s see how much you can take,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine
His words break through, and you can feel the wetness increasing between your legs. You glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze, the heat in his eyes making your heart race. “You’re not playing fair Benny,” you whisper, your voice breathless.
Benny’s lips curve into a knowing smile as his hand continues its slow exploration, sliding under the silk of your nightie. “Who said I was playing?” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. The look in his eyes is one of pure, unrestrained lust, and it sends a wave of heat through your body, making you ache to give in to him completely.
“Benny…” you begin softly, your voice tinged with need, but he silences you with a kiss on your lips, slow and deliberate. The tip of his tongue teasing yours, sending waves of heat through your body. You moan into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure building inside you.
His hand slowly slips under your nightie, gliding over your heated skin. He finds the edge of your lace panties, his fingers slipping inside to explore the slickness of your arousal. His touch is teasing and slow, his fingers glide through your wetness, each stroke making you crave him even more.
Benny’s lips leave yours, trailing a line of kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His fingers continue their exploration as he slips them deep inside of you, finding that sensitive spot within and stroking it with a rhythm that makes your body tremble. Your whimpers mix with your gasps, each sound growing more desperate as the pleasure builds inside you.
“You’re so wet for me,” he whispers against your neck, his voice low with desire. “I love feeling you like this baby,” he praises.
As his fingers curl inside you, he increases the pressure, his thumb circling your clit in time with his strokes. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch sending you closer to the edge. Your hips begin to move against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction, your breath coming in short, heated pants.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice filled with encouragement. “Let go for me baby. I want to feel you come.”
The combination of his skilled fingers and his his words send you spiraling closer to the edge, the pleasure mounting with each passing second. Your body quivers in anticipation, overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.​
Benny’s kisses travel down your throat, his tongue flicking against your pulse point as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm.
You feel every nerve in your body lighting up with desire, your whimpers turning into needy moans as you get closer and closer to release.
Your breathing quickens, your body tightening around his fingers as you teeter on the edge of release. His other hand moves to your breast, squeezing gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple, sending even more sparks of pleasure through you. The intensity is almost too much to bear, and you can’t help but moan loudly as the tension coils its tightest within your core.
“Benny-!” you cry out, your voice breaking with pleasure as your walls clench around his fingers as you moan feeling the intensity so powerful it makes you see stars.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Come for me… soak my fingers, just like that.”
His words push you over the edge, and with a final stroke, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with waves of pleasure that seem to go on forever.
Your moans are unending, filling the room as Benny holds you close, his fingers continuing to coax every last tremor from your body. Your panting and whimpers become breathless gasps, your entire being lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that courses through you.
He presses his lips to your neck, whispering softly, “That’s it, baby… so good for me ” his voice full of satisfaction knowing he’s given you exactly what you needed.
You come down from your high, your body trembling and weak and Benny withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips with a satisfied smile. He licks your arousal from his fingers, savoring the taste with a look of deep satisfaction.
Then, with a gentle yet insistent touch he guides your lips to his for a soft, lingering kiss.
The taste of pleasure on your lips sends a thrill through Benny as you struggle to catch your breath, feeling completely spent and utterly fulfilled. But the lingering intensity in his gaze tells you he’s far from done.
His hand slips under your nightie, his fingers tracing slow, sensual patterns around your navel. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “I want to fill you up baby,” his voice heavy with desire, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.
“I want to create something lasting with you,” he reveals, his voice laced with intent. He lets the gravity of his words linger between you, his breath warm against your neck as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles just below your belly button, lingering there with purpose.
His lips graze your ear as he leans in closer, “I want to have a baby with you,” he confesses, his voice tinged with longing, a deep need to create something permanent, something that binds you both in a way that nothing else can.
His touch feels different now, more intimate, as his hand moves gently across your stomach. The thought of carrying his child, of creating something lasting and beautiful with Benny, fills you with a deep profound sense of connection and love.
You turn your head slightly, your lips barely brushing his as you whisper, “I want that too, Benny.” Your voice is breathless, filled with anticipation and desire. You place your hand over his, pressing it more firmly against your stomach, silently encouraging him, letting him know you’re ready.
Benny’s eyes darken with intensity at your response, his fingers tightening their hold on you. “It’s all I want now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with raw emotion. He leans in, kissing you softly at first, savoring the warmth of your lips. Then, his kiss deepens, growing urgent and passionate, making your heart race.
He pulls back just enough to say, “I’ll show you how much I want you,” his breath hot against your lips. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pulls you closer pressing his hard insistent cock firmly against your thighs. The sudden, powerful contact makes you moan, revealing in the strength of his desire that he’s been holding back, waiting until this very moment to let you feel just how much he needs you.
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Let me show you how much I love you,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with longing.
His hand glides up your side, fingers tracing lightly over the silk of your nightie and he hooks his finger under the strap, slipping it off your shoulder.
You help him with the other strap, feeling his breath warm against your neck as he guides the fabric lower. He presses soft, lingering kisses to your shoulder, each one more tender than the last, as he pulls the nightie down as far as he can.
You lift your hips, allowing him to hook his thumb into your panties, sliding them down along with the delicate nightie. He glides the fabric over your legs slipping everything off completely, leaving you naked and exposed beneath his gaze.
His hand finds your arm guiding you from your side onto your back and the away his hands move with such reverence and desire, makes your heart race.
“I know we can’t have a baby yet,” Benny says, his voice tense with lust, his eyes roaming over your body.
“But I’m going to practice tonight like it’s for keeps,” he promises.
Benny lifts himself over you, his movements controlled and steady. His body hovers above yours, the intensity in his eyes never wavering as he positions himself to take you completely
You reach up, trailing your hands along his broad shoulders holding them for support.
“Benny, I’m going to make sure we have that baby,” you promise him, your voice filled with resolve. “I’m stopping my pills tonight.”
His eyes gaze into yours with a strong sense of fulfillment and a slow satisfied smile forms at the corners of his lips.
With his strong arms braced on either side of your head, he lowers himself down, his lips capturing yours in a deep, sensual kiss, savoring every second, every touch, as if he’s determined to make you melt beneath him.
He settles between your thighs and his body is a delicious weight on yours. The sensation of his firm chest pressing against yours sends a thrill through you as the heat of his skin and the hard planes of his abs fit perfectly against your soft curves. It’s intoxicating, the strength of him surrounding you, making you feel both protected and utterly desired.
His hardened cock teasingly presses against your wetness,and the sensation makes you moan into his mouth which he captures in his heated kiss.
Your hands instinctively slide down his back, trailing over the firm muscles that tense beneath your fingertips. You reach down to the curve of your own hips, grasping the hem of your panties, desperate to remove the final barrier between you.
Benny’s lips trail down your neck, his kisses hot and lingering, and he helps you, his fingers brushing against yours as you tug at the delicate lace.
He grips the fabric firmly and there’s a brief pause, just enough time for you to feel the anticipation build, and then, with a sharp, satisfying tear, he rips the delicate lace apart. The sound of threads snapping fills the air, mingling with your soft gasp.
Benny slips the lace from your body and flings it aside, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss that is both raw and possessive. His body presses harder against you, his cock throbbing with need as he nudges it insistently against you.
His hands slide up your sides cupping your breasts as he circles your nipples with his thumbs, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
You moan softly into his mouth, arching your back, pressing your chest against his hands, craving more of his touch, more of him.
Benny pulls back, breaking the kiss his breaths heavy and uneven as he presses harder against your sensitive nipples, rolling them slowly under his thumbs. He watches you intently, savoring every cry, every moan that escapes your lips, taking his time to draw out your pleasure.
“I want to hear more of those sweet sounds,” he rasps, lowering his mouth to take one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue flicks teasingly over the sensitive peak before he sucks gently, working his lips and tongue in unison as your moans turn into soft, breathless cries.
His free hand continues to knead and tease your other breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers and pinching with just enough pressure to make you gasp. Your walls clench around nothing in response to the sensations he’s pulling from you.
Every lick, every pinch is planned, deliberate, keeping you teetering on the edge as he takes his time, savoring the way your body responds to him.
He shifts his body against yours, his hardened cock sliding through your soaked folds, spreading your wetness across your thighs. The slick heat between you only amplifying your physical need for each other.
“Baby, you’re so wet for me,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as he feels the slickness coating his length. He nudges his tip against your entrance, making you cry out, your hips lifting in response, seeking more of him.
His hands slide down from your breasts, gliding over your waist and settling firmly on your hips. His grip is possessive as he spreads your legs into the perfect position.
His cock is hard, throbbing with an almost painful need as the tip presses against your entrance. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with lust as he slowly pushes his hips forward.
His large cock eases into your slick tight walls sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body, your moans blending with his low, guttural groans as he pushes you to take it deeper.
He moves with deliberate slowness, savoring every inch as he fills you up. The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that has you arching into him, craving him as he continues to push. Benny groans, the sound deep and primal, as he buries himself into you completely his body trembling with the effort to hold back.
Your moans fill the room, mingling with his ragged breaths as he begins to move, each thrust measured, designed to push you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tight, guiding you to meet each of his thrusts , the rhythm between you building, intensifying with each passing second.
“Baby.. you feel so good,” Benny pants, his voice rough with desire. His lips find yours again, capturing your moans as his pace quickens, the pleasure coursing through you both. You can feel the tension building, the sweet, unbearable pressure signaling your impending release. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.
He breaks the kiss, his breath warm and uneven against your ear.
“I’m gonna fill you up soon,” he whispers, his voice heavy with desire. “Gonna make you big and round, carrying our baby.” His hand slides possessively to rest on your stomach, his touch lingering and firm. “Everyone will know… how much I wanted this, how much I wanted you,” he breathes, his lips grazing your ear with each word
Benny’s other hand moves down, slipping between your legs his fingers brushing over your clit with deliberate, teasing strokes.
His fingers circle your clit, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure through your body as his words sink in, heightening the intensity of the moment. “You want that, don’t you?” he breathes, his voice deepening with desire.
You moan in response, your breath hitching as you manage to say, “Y-yes!…Yes I want that Benny.”
“Good “ he says grinding his hips harder and pushing his cock deeper, as his hand continues its relentless assault on your clit. “I want you to come baby,” he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, “come knowing what we’re going to make together… knowing how much I wanted to get you pregnant tonight.”
His words, his touch, and the deep, steady rhythm of his thrusts drives you to the edge. Your orgasm builds coiling the tension tighter and tighter until you can’t hold back any longer, it crashes through you, a tidal wave of pleasure that leaves you breathless, your body convulsing around him as you cry out his name.
“Take it deep for me” he groans with exertion feeling your walls tightening around his cock and a final, powerful thrust, Benny follows you into oblivion, his groans are guttural and raw, as he comes inside of you, his cock pulsing as his body trembles with the force of his release.
His breath comes in short, ragged pants as his hips gently grind against you, savoring every last moment of pleasure. Each spasm of his cock sending waves of warmth through your body.
He softly collapses against you, his breaths hot and ragged “The next one’s for keeps,” he says, his voice filled with exhaustion and excitement making a shared grin spread across both of your faces, knowing your mutual desire for the real thing.
He plants a tender kiss on your forehead, both of you spent but utterly satisfied, lost in the afterglow of a moment that feels like a new exciting path on your life adventure.
He’s Mine
After making sure Benny is settled in the morning, his breakfast finished and his medications taken, you sweetly kiss him on the forehead and tell him you’re going to make a quick dash to the grocery store.
As you get behind the wheel of your Mustang, you decisively head toward the Vandals’ club the grocery run was a rouse you had planned. The roar of the engine beneath you revs in the background of your focused thoughts. Your mind is set on a single goal: getting Benny out of the Vandals and claiming him all for yourself.
Once you arrive at the club you park the Mustang with precision, ensuring it’s securely locked before striding across the street. Dressed in a fitted crop top and high-waisted jeans, with a purse casually draped over your shoulder, you project confidence and determination. Each click of your heels against the pavement resonates with purpose as you approach the Vandal club.
With a deep breath, you push open the front door, your resolve unwavering.
The interior is dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of smoke and stale beer. Only a few members are scattered around, some lounging, others staggering with drunkenness. Their eyes follow you as you enter, faint whistles being heard some looking you over with curiosity and others something darker.
One of them, a long haired man with tattoos creeping up his neck, steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he gets a closer look. “Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawls, his gaze lingering on you in a way that makes your skin crawl. “You lost, little lady? Or maybe you’re just looking for some company?” he adds with a sly grin.
You don’t hesitate, your voice cutting through his sleazy haze like a knife. “Where’s Johnny?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest, your stance firm and unyielding.
The man holds up his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, a smirk playing on his lips. “Easy pretty lady. Johnny’s in the back. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Within minutes, you find yourself sitting face-to-face with Johnny in his office. The tension in the room is thick. You are leaned back in your chair, arms and legs crossed, barely concealing your irritation. Johnny, with his elbows resting on the table and fingers interlaced, has a look of avoidance on his face as he tries to gauge your mood.
You lock eyes with Johnny, your gaze unwavering as his eyes dart around, deliberately avoiding yours.
Beneath the surface, your anger simmers, but you keep it in check, your voice firm and resolute.
“You can’t have him, the club can’t have him,” you state, each word carrying the weight of your decision, leaving no room for argument.
Johnny raises an eyebrow, feigning ignorance. “Who?”
Your voice sharpens, cutting through the tense air. “You know exactly who I’m talking about. Benny!” you snap, sitting up straighter as your arms cross tighter against your chest.
Johnny’s smirk fades, replaced by a cold, calculating look as he finally grasps your intent. Before he can respond, you press on, your voice steady but charged with emotion.
“He’s mine,” you declare with a possessive edge staking your claim on Benny with every ounce of determination you have.
Johnny’s eyes lock onto yours, recognition dawning that you’re not to be taken lightly. Benny was right you are tougher than you look.
Johnny remains silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. A flicker of respect crosses his face as he realizes you’re not backing down.
You lean in further, frustration and fear making your voice rise.
“If he keeps riding his motorcycle for the club, he’s going to die one way or another. It’ll kill him, and you know it!”
Johnny meets your eyes with mock concern, his voice dismissive. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
You don’t back down, your eyes brimming with the intensity of your emotions.
Johnny looks away from you, thinking it over, trying to convey the nature of Benny’s independence.
“I don’t own Benny, just like you don’t own Benny,” Johnny says, his tone hardening to emphasize the point.
“Ain’t nobody can tell that kid nothin’,” he continues, as if the matter is settled but your eyes still lock onto his undeterred.
“He’s grown,” Johnny adds, his tone firm as if that finalizes everything.
As you continue to stare him down Johnny makes Bennys independence clear.
“If he wants to ride a bike, he’s gonna ride a bike,” Johnny says with a shrug, the finality in his voice knowing Benny’s choices have always been for himself.
You lean forward, your voice firm and pleading. “Not if you tell him not to. Not if you tell him he’s out of the club.”
Johnny scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “C’mon,” he mutters.
Your anger flares, your eyes locking onto his.
“I’m his wife, NOT you,” you snap, each word sharp and pointed.
Johnny’s eyes narrow. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” he quips
You meet his gaze, unwavering and full of raw emotion. “Oh, I know you love him, I love him too,” you confess, your words hanging in the air. “That’s why you’ve got to help me.”​
For a brief moment, something flickers in Johnny’s eyes, something like hesitation or guilt, but it’s quickly replaced by his hardened expression. “Are you done?” he asks, his voice cold, his brows easing as if trying to brush off the weight of your words.
You shake your head, the tension still thick between you. “I don’t know, am I?” you retort, challenging him with your defiance.
Johnny leans back in his chair, his patience wearing thin, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and something deeper, something he won’t name. “You got anything more to say?” he asks, his voice tight with barely contained annoyance.
You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you. “No. I said it,” you confirm, your voice final.
The silence that follows is heavy, an unspoken showdown as you both stare at each other. Finally, Johnny looks away, his expression twisted with annoyance . You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you push it back, your heels echoing in the small office as you head for the door.
Before you leave, you turn back one last time, your voice sharp and definitive. “You can’t have him. The club can’t have him. he’s mine”
The door slams shut behind you, leaving Johnny alone with the truth he doesn’t want to face: you’re determined to separate Benny from his life, as a Vandal and he can’t allow that to happen.
🏍️ To be continued 🏍️
Part 5: For Keeps
With every thing stripped from Benny he begins to understand what he really wants out of life, and after a fateful turn of events putting your life at risk, his decision is finalized changing both of your lives forever.
🔗 Master List
🏍️ Benny Cross Tag List 🏍️
@finley-08 @ashleybutler-26 @ifuckindontknow @landlockedmermaid77 @jvanilly @oceanablue @12joeywheelerfangirl @autumnleaves1991-blog @presley1992 @rose-deathman @sillylittlethrowaway @lillypink @faephoria @butdaddyilovehim99 @nostalgichoya @ausssbutlershortstories @fallout-girl219
🏷️Always Tags Me List 💌
@lindszeppelin @abswifey @magicovento @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @thegabbyh @thefallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @xxmandaveexx @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @majestyjade
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ggomos-maribat · 7 months ago
Text
Double Lives
Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.
He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.
But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?
He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.
He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.
Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.
“Damian?” Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”
“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—
But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.
Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”
“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.
Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”
“You hit yourself?”
She nodded meekly.
Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.
He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”
She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.
“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”
The silence between them was thick.
“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”
“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”
She cursed in French under her breath.
“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”
She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.
He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.
But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.
***
One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.
“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.
“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”
“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”
Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.
His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”
“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”
“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”
Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.
“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”
He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.
The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.
Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.
Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”
Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”
“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”
“You could . . . tell him that?”
She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”
It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.
“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “
Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”
Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”
Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.
“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.
Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”
Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.
It ticked too many boxes.
He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.
“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.
“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”
Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.
Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”
“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.
He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”
“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”
Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.
“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”
“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”
“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”
“No . . .”
“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”
She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”
“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”
She tilted her head. “Huh?”
It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.
He was such an idiot.
“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”
Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.
He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”
He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.
He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.
“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”
Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.
"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.
"Leave us." He glared.
"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.
"Leave. Us."
Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.
"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."
"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"
"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."
***
Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.
Of course she was Ladybug.
Of course she was a hero.
So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.
Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.
“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.
(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)
And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.
“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.
Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.
“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.
“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”
“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.
“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.
“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”
“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.
“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.
Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”
“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.
Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.
“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.
“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.
“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.
“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”
“W---What?”
Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.
She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”
Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.
And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.
Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.
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justwinginglife · 2 months ago
Note
Hello!! I absolutely love all your works and always look forward to them! I was wondering if you could write a story where Soshiro is tasked with overseeing y/n, who has been placed under his care as a punishment for reckless behavior in another division.
At first, y/n appears composed and polite when they meet, though sometimes a bit detached. However, on the battlefield, she reveals a completely different side—crazy obsessive over research, (just like Hange from Attack on Titan or Merlin from The Seven Deadly Sins.) She gets excited at any chance to learn something new, eagerly diving into every opportunity.
Y/n also has a sadistic side, often prolonging fights and tormenting her targets to satisfy her curiosity and ambition, showing little empathy towards the Kaiju she encounters. (And maybe kinda found hot out on the battlefield 😗 she can be gun or blade user, either one is fine!)
AHH thank you so much for the support!
Hoshina was shocked that you were here. 
He’d been told that you were reckless, rambunctious, crazy incarnate, a hellspawn, all manner of devious and disastrous. He’d been told he’d have his hands full with you, that any semblance of sanity he had would be ripped to shreds. He’d been told to expect the worst and then double it. 
So imagine his surprise when you showed up at his doorstep, smiling sweetly, so sweet he could almost taste the sugar dripping from your lips, looking prim and proper, salute at the ready, as you patiently awaited his orders. He looked at the transfer orders again, then back at you, then back at the orders. You couldn’t possibly be the devil they were describing. 
“Vice Captain, sir, is everything alright?” You spoke in a mild mannered tone and he could hardly believe his ears. 
He scratched his head. Then he held up the paper in his hands. “This is you, right?”
You nodded. “Yes sir, I’m your new transfer, pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you, Vice Captain, sir.” Respect practically oozed from your every word.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling to himself, “Is the Second Division seriously just full of liars and gossips or what?” Then he ushered you inside the base and began taking you for a tour. 
He watched you curiously as he walked alongside you, but you never gave any indication that you were as wild as the rumors said. Eventually he began to relax. 
If he was honest with himself, he actually enjoyed your company. You laughed at his jokes, regarded him with high esteem (not everyone did), and seemed like a genuinely good person. You even made a big deal out of requesting a duel with him, stroking his ego by making him think it was a great honor to be trained by him. He was astounded to think anyone disliked you.
He’d been told that your transfer to the Third Division was your punishment for insubordination and disorderly conduct, but he thought that the way you conducted yourself was just fine. Was more than fine. He thought you were the perfect picture of an exemplary soldier and an exemplary person. 
And when he began overseeing your training, he was impressed even further by the grace and the skill you possessed. The ease with which you fought made him eager to stand beside you on the battlefield, so he assigned you to the front lines on your very first mission with the Third Division. His eagerness was his downfall. 
He was sure you’d make quick work of the Yoju before joining his takedown of the Honju, but you toyed with every single one, taking great pleasure in their torment. You were like a kid on Christmas, if that kid was maniacal and clinically insane. He found it impossible to ever erase the image of you smiling sinisterly, your eyes ablaze with a devilish gleam, cackling hysterically, as you slaughtered the Kaiju, and then kept slaughtering them even after they’d gone to their graves. The other soldiers around you shrunk back, wincing, as you massacred the Kaiju corpses, reveling in the desecration of their bloodied remains, even going so far as to giddily collect samples for further research. You found this gory landscape a playground and you were more than happy to play. You took such pleasure from demolishing these demons, from splattering their organs on the pavement, from grinding their matter into grime, that it was almost orgasmic. 
Hoshina was more than embarrassed to realize that the sight of you slaying each monster with such hunger and tenacity, with such joy and thrill, turned him on. He had been instructed to enforce punishment upon you, but he found himself wondering what your punishment on him would feel like. Would he find himself in whatever heaven you were enjoying right now? He shivered at the titillating thoughts that had begun to gnaw at his brain. 
When you finally turned your sights to the Honju and absolutely ravaged it, wreaking nothing less than total havoc and mayhem on its unsuspecting form, Hoshina had to actively stop himself from licking his lips. Was it wrong if he promoted you so soon?
He found you decently pleasant upon first meeting you, but now he was finding you increasingly more enticing with every passing minute. He wondered what it would be like to be ravaged by you and for a moment he envied the Honju. 
Of course, the Vice Captain in him knew that eventually you could grow to become a problem, but right now the Vice Captain was off duty. Right now, he was just Soshiro Hoshina, he was just a simple man. And as a man, he was defenseless against his urges. He was finding himself to be more and more like you, more unabashed and reckless, as he suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to take you right here, among these corpses, amidst the raging battle. Somehow he felt that you wouldn’t care if you were laid bare in the middle of the city, officers and citizens alike gaping, as they watched his lust devour you whole. 
But the obscenities quickly evaporated from his mind the moment he saw you were hurt. It was just a cut on the arm, nothing to be too concerned about; you hadn’t even noticed it yourself, as you were still riding out the high. But Hoshina snapped to attention. He raced to your side with bandages and alcohol to clean the wound. You were honestly shocked when he started attending to an injury you weren’t aware of, but his genuine kindness grounded you, brought you back to the present moment. And presently, you were touched. No one had ever cared about you enough to tend to you like this, no one had ever looked past your derangement long enough to care.
When you’d been reassigned, you’d been prepared to defend yourself, been prepared to go out kicking and screaming, clawing and biting. You were prepared for people to cross to the opposite end of the hallway or even just turn around and go the other way when they saw you coming. You were prepared for whispers and rumors, for malice and misintent. You were resigned to the fact that no one could meet your gaze. 
But Hoshina was looking right at you. He stayed right by your side through your whole frenzy, and he never faltered, and he never fumbled. He kept pace, and even had the audacity to be entertained by your crazy. Was he crazy? 
You wanted to ask him but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. 
He finally broke the silence. “You know, I could always ask the cleanup crew to save some organs for you. For research purposes.”
Your eyes lit up but you were still wary, still unwilling to let yourself dream.
“And I could maybe see about getting you a lab somewhere.” He continued.
The more he talked, the more you wanted to kiss him. 
“I just need you to focus on taking down the Kaiju as quickly as you can so we don’t risk any more lives and then I can get you anything and everything you want afterwards, understood?”
You nodded eagerly. 
He smiled.
Your heart melted.
“You can talk, you know. I won’t hold anything against you.”
You bit your lip. “I know, Vice Captain, sir. Thank you, sir. I appreciate the offer. I’ll… I’ll do my best. For you. Sir.”
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “You know you can just call me Hoshina. You don’t have to be so formal all the time.”
“Of course, Vice Captain, sir. I will try my best to not be so formal, sir.”
He laughed again. “Work in progress, huh? I’m okay with that.”
You blushed. You weren’t sure how to process whatever mangled mess of emotions you were feeling right now and you felt pathetic that blushing was what you were resigned to at the present moment. 
Whenever you met with Death, your blades clashing with his scythe, you met him with no fear. You welcomed Death. You fed him souls, sent demons to his door, swords in hand. You weren’t afraid to die on the battlefield, Death was an old friend. But whatever monstrosity you were now feeling, that, you were afraid of. That was a whole different beast. 
As you gazed into Hoshina’s eyes, you felt the red alert go off in your mind. 
Danger.
Proceed with caution.
But you fell in love with him anyway, the way you did everything else- with reckless abandon. 
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rosemarie333 · 1 month ago
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Astro Observations/Opinions (Vedic Edition) Part Two
Hello Guys! Thank you for the support of my first observation🫶🏾! I APPRECIATE YOU ALL
As an fyi I am not well versed in Vedic too much yet, but I am getting better and better sooo without further do, LETS START HEHE😋
These are based on my perspective of placements and signs, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t🫶🏾 I’d love to hear y’all’s take as well!
1. People with sun nakshatras in their big 3 can be super prideful when it comes down to it. LOL i mentioned in my last post that they can be egoistic, and that’s true but when they are wrong they’re PRIDE HAS NOOO MATCHES. i’m a kritikka sun so i can admit when i’m wrong it be a HIT to my ego but i do my best to apologize. Buttt one thing about a sun ruled person is that THEY LOOK SOO GLAZED IN THE SUN like summer is y’all’s best friend because y’all were born sun kissed.
2. Although I am an ashlesha moon, i can COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND why people don’t want to be around us when we’re at our worst (this goes for mercurial people in general imo ( ESPECIALLY jyeshthas and ashleshas but revatis ehhhh it’s a 50/50 chance lol even tho they can be very emotionally immature at times). Like i have an ashlesha sun brother and he is so fucking provoking like he does it for a sport and he’s comfortable uplifting people then shooting them down. He can be very sweet and caring but sometimes his aggression and his bad behavior really does overshadow his good behavior and it’s hard to be around someone who doesn’t give a shit if everyone is on edge around them (lol i have mercury in the 8th house in ashwini so power struggles with siblings is very prevalent ugh). Women can be just as negative and it’s like they get a kick out of it because like i’ve said in a previous post they go off on others and tbh it gives them fuel and a short feeling of superiority because they feel inferior (i keep saying they as if i don’t have an ashlesha moon but tbh i understand).
3. Chitra PEOPLE ARE SO FUCKING CREATIVE OMGGGF i’m sooo jealous. like they’re ability to create something out of thin air is FUCKING impeccable. they also have great magnetism and people flock to them easily like dhanisthas. For instance , DOJA CAT omgggg great magnetism (rahu in the 1st gives that hella) and she’s super fucking creative like she writes the majority of songs herself and can produce music like as an aspiring lawyer who’s very interested in singing and songwriting BABES SHE IS one of my inspirations (i also love how weird her music can be). i know the star rules creativity but damn i wish i had it.
4. I’m tired of rahuvians looking like this exact emojis 👁️👄👁️. Like y’all’s eyes POP and like i be feeling like y’all staring at my soul like calm down. I also love how you guys rock eye makeup esp when it makes your eyes look bigger likeeeeeeeee. Speaking of rahuvians, why are ardras lowkey vindictive LMAO like y’all def have a streak of vindictive behavior in y’all.
5. Hasta women, please consider getting a hand tattoo. Y’all loook so fucking fye with a henna hand tattoo or even an actual one (rihanna is a good example but i don’t think she has a hasta placement, but ariana grande has a hasta moon and she has hand tats and they look bomb asf) Like hasta rules the hands and although y’all can be conservative babes TRY IT!
6. jupiter in the 1st house in hasta🫱🏻‍🫲🏿 weight fluctuating real bad esp since it’s in a moon nakshatra like😭i used to be so skinny and now i gained so much weight but tbh i ain’t complaining too much because it fits my body nicely 😏.
7. Having a Sun, Venus, and even Jupiter AK (atmakaraka) is such a flex like😭. Being very confident and self assured with a Sun Ak, Venus AK having that PRETTY PRIVILEGE AS YALL SHOULD!!!, and a Jupiter Ak being hella lucky and the world working in ur favor issss super niceee like i’m jealous (i know your full chart matters on whether these will work in your favor but even with these I feel like y’all were born to be a bad bitch). I feel like having these as a DK (darakaraka) is a flex too tbh. On the topic of AK’s, tbh Saturn atmakaraka is one of the most prevalent in very famous stars (Marilyn Monroe, Aaliyah, Lana Del Ray, Whitney Houston, Doja Cat, Selena Quintanilla). I’m addition, having this AK is pretty saddening because of lot of the people who have this (your chart also plays a part but as something i noticed and others have as well) usually have a hard time in life (Britney Spears, Marylin Monroe, Whitney Houston, Aaliyah). It’s a damned if you damned if you don’t AK butttt just because you have it doesn’t NOT mean one bit it’s doom and gloom because it’s not it is very cool to have this AK (EVEN THO SATURN IS A HARSH ASS MF lol i have a saturn ak 😩)
8. Ketu in the 1st house🫱🏻‍🫲🏿maladaptive daydreaming and very pretty eyes (looks like they are sleep deprived LMAO but it’s very cute imo)
That is all! I didn’t include venus or jupiter observations as I really don’t know a lot of them, but imma do more research and would love to hear what observations you have!
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velnoni · 2 months ago
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Why I Can See Ford Pines as Demisexual
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I see a lot of people headcanoning Ford to be ace/aro which is valid, especially after Bill joking/wondering if he's plansexual due to Ford saying he's attracted to preparation and logic. So I thought I'd toss my two cents in and say I can see him more as demisexual.
He's definitely dated before, as mentioned in the journal, but I think the guy probably struggled a lot to connect with people on a base level (whether platonic or not) due to receiving hostility towards his six fingers and not having much positive social interaction outside the family. When he did receive positive interactions, it was towards his academic endeavors (I say this, including his parents and school).
Let's not forget that the 30 years of running for his life didn't help with trusting people easily. Stan was his best friend, and maybe that could've been enough if things didn't take a hard turn for the worst. We see a few times in the journals/BOB how Ford feels lonely even when arriving in Gravity Falls. I think he really wanted companionship/friendship outside of his brother. And he had that with Fiddleford and what he thought with Bill as well. Kind of blinded him to the fact he was being used until it was too late, and that's taking into account Bill was an evil triangle con man.
Not to mention his work ethic was all over the place and lowkey unhealthy? The guy barely got any rest, I doubt he'd prioritize a relationship over his life work anytime soon or be able to manage both.
I feel like he personally puts the person's intellect, lifestyle, etc etc all into consideration as you would with a friend. Like what do you have in common or not, do you also believe in the supernatural and things like that. Literally just a friend and that would be enough, doubt he's actively looking for something more at his age— guy has a lot of catching up to do with family.
He's a smart fella, a bit too smart, but maybe comes off apathetic (as shown in the show), so maybe having someone who can handle that and clock it while not seeing it through the eyes of romance works well. And having trust issues, understandably so, would maybe have a relationship take some time regardless of what kind. He would need to build up some type of emotional bond/trust, especially after Bill.
There are some folks recently saying Ford shows symptoms of have Narcisstic Personality Disorder (NPD) which is quite interesting and after rewatching the show I can understand with the moments we were given.
But idk, when I think about it maybe Ford wouldn't mind romance if he overcame the hurdles of mistrust, certain social expectations, his own ego, better work schedule (with the help of the twins & Stan) and many more things I'd speak on in another post. But does anyone else agree? I can always make a headcanon post on what being with Ford would be like if asked in the ask box.
(I'd appreciate all the reblogs & likes please, trying to be more active :] )
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deesseshesca · 3 months ago
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PAC : What's the wildest sexual experience bound to happen with your s/o ?
Is not because I ain’t takin that I can’t keep up with love
Good afternoon, pretty souls, today we are diving into the sexual destiny of your relationship.
FLASH SALE 
For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only 
Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION 
Rules and Disclaimer 
I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 
MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 
MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 
Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18
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PILE 1 
4 cups, Strength, High priestess, Knight wands 
WILD SEX : INVOLVING A THIRD PARTY 
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Prostitute, stripper or an unicorn 
Check in : You guys have a very wet cooch. No need for a lube. If you are a man , you know how to move your hips smoothly…hihihi
I’m sorry babe but you’re man/woman ain’t shit. I see you wearing sexy good quality lingerie walking around lather in lotion and perfume and he/she keeping its gaze on the TV. While you are waiting to get into some hardcore sex. If you are a man , I see you walking around in gray sweats, fresh cut and some good cologne. Some of y’all even go as to applying some lip balm but nothing she/he is more preoccupied with their phone. The worst you deserve is all the hype after all the effort you put in. Back then yall used to go round and round, night until sunrise. Now we are getting out off in the shower. He/she can’t bring himself to care. While there are people out here that would kill to be in his/her place. From their perspective y’all need to add another person to bring back the spark. Hey, I am the last one to judge sexual needs but their intention ain’t it. They want the 3 of y’all in a car,fucking. How is that even going to work ? The car is already small for 2 people. The reality is that they don’ t want look at u or even deal with you while y’all fucking. And that right there tells me all I need to know. They don’t care for you any more but they keep you around to satisfy their sick ego. Sorry to announce, he is never going to ask your hand in marriage. If it is a women, she will never accept a long term commitment with you. 
💌Don't listen to one word coming out of their mouth. You got me feeling all the way hot a front of my screen. So damm sure you are the Bomb.com. Anyway if you want more insight regarding you next sexual encounter, you can always message me especially now since my readings are on sale.
Much love, Shesca
FLASH SALE 
For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of the post )
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PILE 2 
5 cups, 6 cups (reverse), ace wands, 9 pentacles (reverse), ‘’I was hidden my true feeling because I was scared of commitment and did not want to lose my freedom !’’
SHE (FEMININE ENERGY), HIM (MASCULINE) 
Before you go further, know that it doesn't matter about the gender but which energy you embody. Because there is a clear difference in this one. 
You guys already had crazy sex. I don’t even think it is about the kinky level but is more about the overwhelming emotions shared in that intimate moment. I’m talking about your most recent ex, some of y’all (especially women) it was your first relationship. Let’s start from the beginning. He used to send you cheeky pics of him after a workout or a shower. Y’all are not better, out here sending lingerie haul and voice memo. Knowing damn well that your moan drives him crazy. I can’t exactly see how we got into the fucking scenario  but I can see bits of the whole thing. He grabbed your waist and pushed you on the bed. Leaving hickeys on your neck and breast. While nibbling kisses on your stomach and leaving love bites on thighs. Before latching on your clit like a man on a mission. When he finally let himself inside, you were a whimpering mess. I keep hearing: ‘’ You can take it princess. Everything is fine. You know I’m in love with you, right ? You are so gorgeous’’. Plus he gets easily aroused around you. Some of y’all had a place that you were banned from kissing before going. I see 2 clear incidents. One before meeting your parents, y’all make out a bit in his car then y’all have to wait because of boner. Y’all at school just after one kiss, he has to go in the bathroom, to calm down. Because of you he started wearing sweat, yes to please you but most importantly because is his best bet to hide the constant boner he has around u. As of now he still gets off from flashbacks of y’all shared moments. Believe me Pile 2, he did not move on. He let you go because he wanted you to pursue your dream. He doesn't want to be the reason to stop you from  your potential. I’m sensing that y’all work or study abroad at the moment. That’s why he prefers a sad break up with much love rather than a messy one where he might do the ultimate act that he despise : hurting you. 
BONUS
WILD SEX: LOVING DOM
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 8 wands, High priestess, Page wands, Magician, ‘’I know you are my soulmate babe ! Our bond is magnetic ! I’m seeing all the signs’’, ‘’ I didn't feel like I was on your level ! You are a boss ! I’m very insecure ! ‘’ 
Lucky you, your guides allow me further more access to your energy. I never getting deeper than I am allowed without having a signal. You guys are going to meet again. Is inevitable. Some he might text you drunk, after his friend tries to keep his phone away from you the whole night. They are love sick. The next first touch,I see an extremely tight hug in the middle of the airport. Him coming with red roses to you. You are jumping in his arms. I see y’all going crazy with each other not even being able to wait to make it in your bedroom. Is not just lust, it is the most intimate discord that your soul has with each other. When y’all having sex. If he did text you and promise you a surprise: is a small vibrator. See clothe flying, your ass up face down on the floor while his pounding into you,  in the kitchen. Some of y’all are not even going to make it until the kitchen, losing your mind in the door hallway. Y’all are going rounds after rounds. The last scene, you are on the bed, missionary position, crying from overstimulation. He is usually assertive but now he’s like an emotional dom. Thrusting in you hard and slow while opening up: ‘’ Don’t you dare cum. You know how much I missed you. You know how hard it was for me … to let… u … go’’
You are barely able to formulate an answer: ‘’ I know, I know, I’m sorry baby …’’ Completely dizzy on orgasm . 
💌Girl, how can you handle all this intensity ! Anyway lucky you, if you need further confirmation regarding your situation, you can always message especially now that my reading are on sale.
FLASH SALE 
For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of the post)
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PILE 3 
8 cups (reverse), 9 cups, 7 cups (reverse), World, ‘’ I want a second chance ! Not being with you is killing me !’’, ‘’ Telepathic Communication’’ 
WILD SEX : WORSHIPING KINK 
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I’M USING ''SHE'' BECAUSE I’M SENSING HEAVY PREGNANCY ENERGY
Check in : Good afternoon to my plus size babes. Some of y’all or only pregnant while others of both. You have a big butt. The stretch marks and cellulite and you love it. You love yourself the way that you are. With the rolls and belly. I am obese with your energy. 
You know who else is obese? Your boo thing. Pile 3, y’all are mean. You just block your fiancé/husband after sending a risky picture. Just because. On a random Thursday morning. He is out here losing his mind in the break room. Trying to understand what he has done to deserve that treatment. Did he forget to put the garbage out ?, did he not walk the pet?, did he forgot to start that diy project in the garden ? or did he forget to get your coffee this morning ? What’s going on ? He  is losing it in the middle of a team meeting. While you are smirking, living the dream life. Y’all look like a regular couple, kids, pets, house in the suburb with 2 garage doors. And your dream car brought by yours truly. They don’t know how freaky y’all are. Sex toys, sexting, latex lingerie and fucking in the walk in closet he build. If necessary, y’all don’t mind calling the babysitter so you can lose it in a hotel room. But y’all favorite experience is a good old missionary. He’s caressing your legs, while looking deep in your soul with nothing but love. While you are forever grateful to have found the one that cherishes you forever
💌Y'all better teach me your ways. You got that on Amazon, Target maybe it was a private sale. Anyway congrats on your pregnancy/engagement and keep the good energy, if you want to dive more into upcoming events regarding your life, you can always message. Especially now that my reading are on sale.
FLASH SALE 
For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only (Link at the end of post)
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harveybwabbit92 · 4 months ago
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Grocery girl: Ken Sato x Reader pt. 4
You were a delivery girl who was frequently dispatched to famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon….
Part 1, Part 2,Part3
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The thing about being new parents is they go into it not thinking how much it'll change their life. as they build a routine around the baby's care that they often forget that they're still people, and need to take of themselves and each other wise over time the stress will start to boil over. And Ken had reached that boiling point as he came home from the game furious cos he got chewed out by the coach and he took his frustrations out on R/n as soon as he walked through the door.
The aftermath of the argument that ensued left Kenji with a sore cheek and even more bruised ego as R/n stormed out of the house in tears her parting words being "You have no right coming at me like, Sato! I'm not who took in giant baby and forced a stranger to uproot her life, because he's too proud admit that he bit off more than he could chew." Kenji made his way downstairs and felt his legs shake as he made his way towards the baby's containment chamber feeling even more frustrated.
He finally breaks down crying grieving over the stress and trials that came with parenting and driving off the only person that had been trying to help him and what was worst...even if he did go after R/n, he wouldn't know where she would go! in the month that they've lived together; never once had they ever sat down and just have a real conversation that didn't involve the baby. That, and he hadn't exactly been the nicest guy since she moved in with him either.
Mina asked if Ken would like to hit some balls as that usually helps him feel better and started up a simulation of the dodger stadium. Unfortunately Ken's frustrations seem to grow as he missed every pitch thrown his way, Baby watched him curiously and started giggling thinking he was being silly; He eventually got sick of everything and retreated to his room.
He kicked the mini fridge in his couch open finding a single can of coconut water. Ken snorted tried to kick the drawer shut but it was being stubborn after the fourth kick it finally locked and Ken buried his head into his hands. Mina approached him concerned, she explained that Kenji was experiencing a breakdown due to stress, no surprises there. She asked if he would like to participate in a counseling session simulation. Ken didn't want that.
"I need to talk to someone, not something...offense Mina."
"Then perhaps you should call someone, a friend? "
"A friend...Well I just chased out the closest person I could call a...."
"Ken?"
Ken had an idea who to call he ended up calling Ami Wakita for help hopefully she can help him sort his head out and maybe help fix things with R/n, but first he had to come off as subtle as possible so the reporter doesn't suspect his current living situation. Ken waited a rings for Ami answer. "Miss Wakita,. It's Ken, Ken Sato, I need to talk to you." Ami panicked a little thinking Ken calling to complain about her most recent article she'd done on him. "Oh, Mr. Sato. If this is about what I wrote, I'm sorry but I solely write based on what I see-" Ken interrupted her assuring that the reason for him calling had nothing to do with her article, he just needed a minute to talk.
Ami cut him a deal; five minutes of talking and he gives her an exclusive interview, Ken reluctantly agreed her her terms and began talking. He wanted to know how she does make it work? How does she juggle her job while also caring for her family at the same time? "I mean, how did you did not lose it on your partner or resist the urge to throw your kid out a window?" There was a slight pause on the other end and Ken was worried he said too much before Ami spoke. "Ken, do you have a secret wife and child? cos that would make one heck of a story.~" Ken felt his cheeks burn as he firmly denied it Ami snickered assuring him that she was joking.
She told him that parenting was difficult even with two people but it's a rewarding journey and though it can seem bleak and stressful at times, but there's always that awe that comes with these little lives are relying on imperfect you to guide them through it all, even teaching you a few things along the way the feeling you get from experiencing it is... "Incredible..." Ken said in awe as he watched the baby trying to copy him from watching some of his old games.
He asked Mina to lower the kaiju's containment field and managed to get a hold of a giant baseball bat he just randomly had lying around and handed it off to the baby. "...And your five minutes are up!" Amy stated Ken hadn't heard her right away as he was trying to Baby how to swing her bat. "Ken, are you still there?" The baseball players eyes widened as remembered her was on call with her. "Oh, yeah. thanks!" Ami said his thanks can be the exclusive interview he promised. "Ah, right. Let's meet tomorrow at Tonkatsu Tonki in Meguro, around 7?" He hung up before Ami agreed and Ken returned to teaching Baby how to play baseball he had Mina bring up a simulation a baseball field from his childhood complete with his mom cheering him on front the stands.
Ken showed the baby how to hold her bat and went to pitchers mound the first try didn't go so well as Ken had accidentally nailed her in the forehead causing baby to started crying; Ken went to calm her down and reassure her. "It's okay, it happens. We'll try again. this time keep your eye on the ball." Ken went to pitch again and this time baby hit a homerun! Ken and Mina cheered and ran up to the kaiju. "C'mon girl, time to run your bases!" the the baby laughed and chirped giddily as she followed her daddy.
Cut to an hour later the baby has fallen asleep though with some difficulty, Ken learned that R/n would sing to the infant kaiju; which was news to him(he was usually K.O.'d or fighting Kaiju while R/n was on duty.) According to Mina R/n has lovely singing voice. Lucky the teddy bear R/n got Baby combined some Music box melodies playing on the speakers was enough to calm the infant dragon down. Now Ken had different matter to attend to: Apologizing to R/n. it's been an hour or so and she still hasn't come back...
He did relax a little knowing they were on an island so she couldn't have gone far, she would've had to borrow one of his cars to leave (There was a Baby incident with R/n's car.)..."Mina did you give R/n a watch?" he asked in an anxious tone Mina confirmed that she had. "Bring her location up." Ken brows furrowed in concern as R/n location showed her off the shore in the ocean. "She probably walked onto a shoal path and got trapped on on a rock something when the tide came in." Mina theorized that didn't calm Ken's nerves as he told Mina to keep an eye on baby while he went to look for R/n he turned into Ultraman left for a swim out the airlock.
Meanwhile
R/n was cold, sore, wet and pissed off and worst off trapped on this rusty-ass buoy that she managed to grabbed onto as the current pulled her away from the shore, R/n scratched her arms and legs up from climbing onto to it as the ocean came more restless with each passing minute, and all she could do was sit there and berate herself. "Because you let it get to you, You let the stress and Ken get to you and that's you how you drowned in the sea...." R/n eyes widened horror as the realization dawns on her "Holy crap, I'm going to drown in the sea" Her complexion turned ashen as she last out a small gasp. "..Just like Meimei's card reading said." R/n said thinking back to her last shift.
*R/n was sitting in the DN6 break room eating lunch while Meimei sat across from her giving her a Tarot card reading with Digimon cards??? R/n looks at cards then at the teen skeptically. "...And how exactly would I drown in tea?" she asked while taking a bite of her sandwich.*
R/n thought it over for moment then shrugged "Eh, close enough..." And this was All be cause she just wanted a few minutes to herself and to be far away from Ken as possible! But being stuck out here made R/n realize she couldn't really blame him for lashing like that. He was stressed out they both were, neither of them haven't had a moment of peace in what seemed like forever! Hell they've barely spoke to each other since R/n moved in...One of them was bound to snap from the pressure eventually!
R/n looked across the pitch dark bay at the distance of the Ultrabase and wondered if she should risk it and try to swim back? The delivery girl looked down at her scrapped hand and legs then snorted. She'd never make it, R/n was by no means a profession swimmer and even if she was there was a risk of riptides; that with all the blood she was leaking she'd be inviting every predator in a near mile to a free dinner! 
While was stressing over her current predicament she failed to noticed the two blue lights under the waters surface searching around until they looked up, they seem brightened up when they noticed her sitting at the water's edge, R/n let out a panicked yelp as tried to hang on to the buoy for dear life as the waves caused by the unknown entity crashed against it threatening to send R/n tumbling out to sea! *Oh, Great...now I'm gonna get eaten by a kaiju!* The delivery girl thought as the unknown creature broke the waters surface but what greeted R/n wasn't some aquatic monster wanting to eat her but instead the towering figure of Ultraman standing over her.
"R/n." He said with a relieved sigh as he leaned down to get better look at her. "Are you okay?" The delivery girl hugged the buoy tight as his movements caused the water to shift around. "I'd be happier if I was on land!" the delivery girl whined as the buoy shifted violently Ken reached out and held the buoy still while he held out his free hand out for R/n to climb on to. The tiny woman reluctantly hopped on and expected Ken to just walk them back to the base but instead he suddenly cupped his other hand over her. "Hey, take a deep breath for me, ok?" R/n looked up confused at what Ken was doing. "Hold my breath? what for-" her voiced echoed of into the distance as Ultraman suddenly flew off into the sky.
R/n felt like her stomach was yanked into her feet as Ultraman flew them somewhere when he finally stopped and set her down R/n needed a minute to get her bearings before looking around her eyes widened in awe as she took in the white sandy beach and untamed jungle in the distance. "Where is this?" she asked looking up at the silver giant who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "It's just a random island my dad used for training, it's small enough not show up on any maps and completely uninhabited." he explained as the [y/hc] woman looked out into surroundings she could see some parts of the the island were all kinds of torn up and in the pale moonlight she could see areas of the beach were glassed over like it had been hit by a lighting strike or say an alien energy beam...
"Why did you bring me here-....Are you going kill me?!" Ultraman looked at her startled "What the hell makes you think that?!" R/n goes on a rant on how she knows and seen too much, she could go to the press! Which she wouldn't actually... but still she's a liability to his life! "Would you calm down? I'm not gonna kill you...I brought you here to talk." Ken reassured as he sat down, it was kinda funny seeing Ultraman sitting so casually in that sand as R/n reluctantly joined him...
the two of them relaxed to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and crickets chirping in distant the jungle as Ken finally spoke up. "I'm sorry freaked out at you like that, It's just this whole thing with the baby and my jobs-" His timer started blinking R/n put her hand on his thigh. "Hey, It's okay. I get it..." Ken didn't seemed too convinced.
"No, what you said earlier; about uprooting your life... I never thanked you once for that did I?" The giant asked looking down the human his eyes dimmed somberly as R/n removed her hand from his thigh and looked down at her lap. "It wouldn't hurt to hear it every now and then...." The giant moved his hand so it was rested behind R/n who leaned back against it. "Well thanks, for everything." he said as the two sat in silence for a few moments enjoying the silence before R/n spoke up.
"I'm curious why haven't you switched back to human, don't you have 3 minutes or something?" Ultraman looked down at her oddly. "Uh...What? I don't have time limit, why would you think that?" he asked with sight laugh R/n's mouth opened but closed again when she couldn't come up with an answer. "I'm not sure...maybe I read it somewhere?" Ken was curious now and went to press where she had read that from? but was interrupted by Mina calling informing that the baby was waking up soon and she won't be happy seeing both her parents gone.
 "Welp, looks like break time over, let's go home" He held his hand out for R/n to hop onto this time delivery girl was ready for take off as Ultraman jumped up into the sky, when they got back to base Mina chewed Ken out for not bringing straight home to have her scrapes treated before the deciding to run away for an hour.
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{Ultraman didn't turn back into Ken cos he knew they weren't going to be staying on the island long.]
{Also: Did you catch the Archer reference?}
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@mf-rockstar,@pattycakes2024,
@the-unhinged-raccoon,@karebears-klub,
@oh-kurva, @mashiromochi,
@boogiemansbitch, @ok-boke
@dap11
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the-dark-parade · 8 months ago
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Dear marshal,
Could I have... REINCARNATION AU!!!
Let's say that reader (female) used to be a soldier under lilia
AND while working under him, she fell in love
So she confessed to him. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. (annoying.)
But one day, it looks like he's going to get hurt fatally, and she takes the but instead. (how stupid.)
And she dies. But she doesn't regret it. And gets reincarnated!
(I wanna see him pining for her the same way she does for him!!!!)
WARNINGS! THIS STORY CONTAINS... angst + fluff + lilia×fem reader
A/N: Thank you for your request, @something1032727 I hope my work pleases you. This is my first work after all. If you are not comfortable with this, feel free to leave. If you would like a version with male reader instead, please request it. Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.
Now, the parade starts with it's first destination...
Fate's Redemption: A Love Reborn
(part 1)
In the symphony of life, love echoes and reverberates endlessly, intertwining souls across time. Every gesture, every sacrifice, echoes through eternity, shaping destinies. And in the cycle of rebirth, love's refrain returns, reminding us that its melody endures, transcending even lifetimes. Truly, eternal echoes of love.
"Please go out with me!" You say as always, with such vigour, with such annoyingness, as always. Love-struck eyes stare into mine, seemingly going into my soul, hoping for a chance. It's like her eyes turn into hearts whenever I'm here.
How stupid. One of my best soldiers in the army, and she's so head-over-heels for me. Save her clumsy ass a few times, and she magically falls in love with you.
How naive.
I reject you once again, for what seems like the 1000th time or more, but you still don't give up. Your stubbornness is one of your worst yet best trait about you.
You eat my food with a smile even though my other soldiers avoid it like the plague. I suppose you do have good taste after all.
You cook for me, feed my ego, help me with my work, and so much more.
I wonder if you're just in it for fun. Perhaps you just want my title if we actually win the war. But I brush the thoughts off when I see your sincerity.
You ask again, and again, and again.
Why are you so insistent?
Why do you even bother?
Why do you like me so much?
This little crush of yours should be over by now. I have not treated you very nicely. I have not treated you any different from the rest. There is nothing between us. Why can't you understand that I'm just not interested?!
At least that was what I would like to say. If my heart didn't stop beating so hard around you. If your smile, your stupid, stupid confessions, that used to not bother me at all, now haunts me in my sleep every night!
What's wrong with me..?
Am I truly... falling in love..?
.
.
.
Well, that's what I wanted to ask.
How stupid. How fucking fucking fucking stupid!
How irritable can you be?
How much do you want me to cry over you?!
Is it too late to say I regret not accepting your confession all those years ago, if now you're dead..?
--
"General, watch out..!" You say, as you use your body to shield me from an arrow that I never even noticed was coming after me. Pushing me to the side.
"...you're dying. How stupid. Why did you take that arrow for me?" I pick you up, just running to base. Stupid human devices..! I can't cast my teleportation magic! There's no time, there's no time! You stupid fae...
"cause... *cough*, I love you." You say weakly, softly, coughing out blood in my arms. You even wink! You infuriate me so bad!
"Shut up! Don't you dare die on me!" I ran as fast as I could. Don't die. Don't die. Don't die! You made my life brighter, and now you want me to go back to how it was?!
You made me fall in love with you!
.
Fuck. Before we even reached, I could feel your heart stop beating. Your body is becoming cold. No, no, no! It can't end like this. It can't!
Is this what it feels to have your whole world crash upon you?
My heart feels heavy. My cheek feels wet. I feel like causing a massacre. My chest feels tight. It's a bit hard to breathe. I feel a chill go up my back.
But why..?
Death is normal in war. Death is a daily occurrence in war. Death happens in every fight, in every week.
So why?
Why does death, which was so normal for soldiers on the battlefield like me, make me feel this way?
Amidst my thoughts, I managed to bring you back to base. But it wasn't really you. Just a cold, soulless empty vessel of you.
This is just too cruel.
You should not have ended up this way, you still had so much to live for, and just when I was actually going to accept your confession you go and die on me?!
We... Could have been happy together.
If only... If only I wasn't so stubborn, denying my feelings for you.
If only you weren't so insistent on going out with me.
If only...
If only...
If only you didn't take that hit in my stead, could that have happened..?
Ah, but it's too late to regret it now, huh?
.
That night, it was said that wailings could be heard from inside the General's tent.
--
Years have passed, and the numbers signalling each year are not the only changes that happened in my life.
I have gotten wiser and older. Now I know what I felt for you in those days.
Love is the word for my overwhelming feelings for you.
I visit your grave from time to time. It mostly ends up in tears, despite how many years have passed.
I used to call you pathetic for being so love-driven. I guess now I'm the pathetic one. How my past words bite me in the gyatt, just like the youngsters say!
I entered school. I can't believe I still have that invitation letter from NRC from all those years ago!
I have gotten over you.
At least that would be what I would like to say, but when I saw you again, it was like my old heart started beating again.
"(y/n),"
The dark mirror said, and my eyes shot to the person in question. Could it truly be..?
Those eyes. Those mannerisms. Everything about you... I could never mistake you for anyone else. It's you.
"Thou shall be sorted into..."
Diasomnia. I hope she'll be sorted in the same dorm as me. But even so, I'll win her heart again even if she's not.
"Savannahclaw!"
I feel like sighing... We could have been dormmates! But, oh well!
Khehehe. This general makes a mission to himself, to make you fall in love with him as deeply and as hopelessly as you did all those years ago. And this general isn't one to fail a mission.
Get ready, my love.
A/N: dear souls, stay tuned for part 2! Thank you for reading if you read.
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punksocks · 1 year ago
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Astro Observations No.19
(Thank you so much for the support everyone! I appreciate you following my blog c:)
*Just based on my experiences, only take what resonates
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-Starting a new relationship during Venus in retrograde is guaranteed to teach you a karmic lesson with a probably karmic partner (I’ll never forget mine oml)
-Under developed Venus ruled men/ Men with heavy Venus placements are a nightmare. Underdeveloped ones choose to be chaotic with charming energy. Like f-boys or like vampires. They just tend to run through people and use them for validation. Sometimes they grow out of it and become better. A lot of times they just get too big of an ego and get narcissistic in this energy and are just destructive.
-The house your Juno is in could be an indicator of your soulmate’s placements (ex if your Juno is in Aries your partner may have Juno in first. Or if your Juno is in 5th they may have Leo in Juno. If your Juno is in Libra they may have Juno in 7th.)
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-Libra/Taurus/Venus in 1st house people can get away with such criminal behavior lol, people will never blame them or they will always want to see the best in their actions. I feel like Leo Asc/Sun in 1st can get through a lot of actions with confidence but they usually do face blow back at some point if they’re behaving badly.
-Neptune 1st house/Pisces rising will have a more erratic sort of filter applied to them. Like usually they’ll get like subconsciously softened and idealized by others but they’ll also get certain traits like air head or spacey applied to them. Basically getting elevated and infantilized the most imo.
-Having North Node in Pisces can be a murky karmic placement. I’ve found that North Node in Pisces can manifest as anything from spiritual devotion and detachment from others to lifelong addiction and reliance on substances, any path that has heavy Neptunian themes which feels like a roulette since Neptune rules over confusion.
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-Mars MC can be a sex symbol placement for any gender, someone known for their body or having a striking presence.
-Venus MC is definitely someone that’s known for being a charmer at best and a player at worst. Still very good with people either way.
-MC in Scorpio can manifest as someone that’s seen as constantly going through transformations and tribulations in their career and public life. Alchemy or catastrophe, always at an extreme.
-Venus can show where you are the most appealing to others (Venus in 1st would be seen as charming and probably having a very pretty face, Venus in 2nd would been seen as luxurious and having many resources and having a pretty body, Venus in 3rd would be a very charming speaker and likely have a voice that draws in others, etc I can make a whole post on this if anyone’s curious)
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-Aquarius Venus/Venus in 11th fall in love with someone unconventional, or someone they met in an unconventional way (online dating, penpal programs, stuff like that)
-I find all fixed moons have really intense emotions, they just express it in different ways (yo if you’ve ever just disagreed with an Aquarius moon you know they can get touchy if you’re not on the same page with their logic)
-Aquarius is not a great way to figure out if someone is queer imo. The connotation of being lgbtqia+ being essentially strange/out of the norm is … something already but plenty of queer icons that live with their careers/lives revolving around the queer community have no Aquarius in their charts at all (I was looking at Elvira’s chart after this Matt Baume video on YouTube about how she’s a queer icon that was elevated by the queer community and was a closeted lesbian and she turned out not to have a single Aquarius placement, a Virgo stellium and Leo placements stood out the most to me). Sappho is the asteroid to check out for wlw I’m not sure for mlm but I’m sure Greek mythology has given us a great asteroid for the mascs
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-Squares to north node can present “delays” with your destiny (more so having to hone aspects of your personality, having certain experiences beforehand, and coming into your destiny later in life, Joe Biden is an interesting example of this lots of squares and harsh aspects to north node and he ran for president like 7 times before he won, even became Vice President before, so interesting)
- (TW scars, harm) Scorpio can show where you have organic scars/birthmarks (Scorpio in 1st birth marks/freckles just appear on my face) where as Pluto can show where you get scars through experiences (I have Pluto in 2nd and I got burned on the lower third of my body when my dad left me in a hot water bath as a baby :/)
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morethanwonderful · 2 years ago
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Thinking a lot about how, in a series filled with liars and deceivers, when it comes to keeping big secrets, Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang lie in the exact same way.
In terms of truly big secrets that they have to keep for a long time, Nie Huaisang has one and Wei Wuxian has two. Huaisang's is the collective secret of his grand plot to destroy Jin Guangyao and avenge his brother, and Wwx's are the loss of his golden core and his post-resurrection true identity. And how do both of them go about covering the parts of themselves that they most want to hide? They play up their own existing traits and lean as hard as they can into their more negative public perceptions.
When Wei Wuxian wants to hide the fact that he's lost his golden core, he does it by putting on a show of arrogance, and this can only work as long as it does because ego is already such a big part of his personality. Young Wwx was already known as a willful, trouble-making rule breaker, so nobody's going to question it when he starts showing up to events without his sword. They might ask "what the hell is that kid doing?" but they can always answer their own question with, "Well he's Wei Wuxian. He's always been a disrespectful and done as he pleased."
Wwx never pretends to be anyone or anything but himself in his first life, but he dials up certain facets of "himself" to make the public think what he wants them to. Pretending to be the person that the outside world expects him to be makes a very good disguise, because it's against others' nature to question it.
And we can argue about how effective it is, but Wei Wuxian tries to do a version of the exact same thing when he gets brought back as Mo Xuanyu. He hears that Mxy was gay and a "lunatic" and says "well if you want insane, then you'll get insane." He leans as hard as he can into that public expectation, because if Mo Xuanyu is behaving like exactly the annoying, openly queer freak that everyone expects him to be, no one's going to wonder who else he might be.
Meanwhile, Huaisang uses more or less the exact same defense mechanism when he starts racking up things to hide. Based on his repeating school as a teen and late formation of his golden core, he presumably has a reputation from a young age as not the sharpest tool in the shed. People know him as the Nie brother who cares little for cultivation and developed far too slow to make use of his saber. To be unkind about it, he's a useless little dandy unfit to ever inherit his clan.
So when Huaisang wants to be sure that no one will suspect he's making moves behind the scenes, he leans into that and leans into it hard. He makes everyone think they're right—he is an idiot unfit to run his clan. But nobody's going to look twice at a fool, and nobody will suspect subterfuge of the head shaker.
Once again, though, Huaisang's act only works because people expect him to turn into a leader like the head shaker. The same act wouldn't have worked so well for someone like Wei Wuxian, because even though they disliked him, people knew he was talented and dangerous. Only Nie Huaisang can get away with playing useless for a decade, because he's playing as hard as he can into the worst of his established public persona. Others mistaking him for a fool lets him trick them into thinking that he is one.
Nobody wants to question you when you're confirming their expectations, and Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang both know how to use that to their advantage. It's easy to keep a secret when your cover story is something the public is already primed to hear.
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goldsbitch · 10 months ago
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That one call overseas
part 7 to That one Christmas flight
summary: Now that we don't talk.
warning: pure angst this time, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely
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The hole Y/N dug for herself was getting deeper with each day of no contact with Lando. Gone was her ability to contain her emotions within herself. Her friends were getting concerned. Their ever so calm and easy going friend turned into an impulsive, unreliable and even slightly rude menace.
Teresa was the one who kept patience with her in the worst days, as only the best of friends do. When Y/N got kicked out of a bar for the first time in her life for her comments in lousy bad Italian on a random couple in the late hours of their Friday night, Teresa walked her home and screamed Hits Different with her at the top of their lungs to ease the atmosphere. And once they were home, she listened to Y/N rant about how she would never ever call the asshole who does not even bother to text her again. Teresa also stopped her from throwing his hoodie away, knowing that the following morning would hurt just a little more.
When Y/N woke up the following noon, she took a hard look in the mirror. This was getting ridiculous. She swore to herself and all of her roommates that no more alcohol and no more Lando desperation. It's a crush - it'll pass. One day this will be a nice story to tell the kids she'll have with some Antonio, the accountant or Ignacio, the lawyer. Not Lando, the racer - and that was ok.
//
Lando was off to Montreal and things could not be more busy for him. New updates to test, again, as his frustration grew. He only wished to be finally at the top podium, which seemed to always slip in between his hands. His mind, of course, was clouded by the thoughts of Y/N. At first he thought ashamed of himself for not reaching out and appearing like an asshole - but he somewhat expected her to break the silence. He started to second guess every aspect of the time they shared together. Perhaps she did not have as great time as he had, perhaps he acted like an asshole, or perhaps he just was not good enough for those who were not under the F1 charm spell. Not good enough for her. He finally resorted into doing something he tries to avoid as much as possible - looked at the fan pages and comments to boost his ego up. It only led to him feeling more shameful and pathetic than when he started. He kept her necklace and brought it with him. For all it was worth, he had an amazing memory to look back at, no matter how delusional he felt doing that.
The paddock was a great place to be at when searching for a distraction, so he made sure to spend as little time as possible alone and surrounded himself with people. He even walked to the stands often than he usually would, searching fans and giving photos out, smiling a little to extra on all the girls who looked remotely close to Y/N. Who knows, he might pick up someone like that at the end of Montreal ride. Why not. Nobody was stopping him.
He went to the race with all he had, fully prepped and focused. However, red flags, poor strategy choice had him finishing way below the targeted place. To his luck, Oscar was on a roll of luck and finished way better compared to Lando - and of course that everyone compared. Debrief meetings like that drown the soul more than usually.
Influx of all the journalists was overwhelming that day. The interview fatigue hit hard and after few of those, Lando felt that based on the questions he was asked, everyone thought of this race like a massive fail for him. His own answers continually worsened.
"Why do you think this week has ended the way it did?" asked one of the more prominent interviewers.
"Well, you know how it is. Sometimes the week just does not go the way you'd wish, even if last weekend it seemed like we're on a track to something good. One things affects the other and getting out of that rut is challenging."
"Are you talking about the updates, or something different?"
"Yeah, something like that. But as they say, when life gives you lemons, right. Make lemonade...or limoncello for a rainy day, ey?"
"Well, we hope to see the cheerful Lando soon and ideally at a podium too!" Lando knew the interviewer was only doing his job and technically she was not doing anything wrong, but he could not help and for a split second let his face do a look, that was certainly not appropriate for someone who was so used to media and knew he had to be smart around them.
He was in no mood to watch a celebration of Oscar or to get wrapped up in the post race chaos. Once he felt free to leave, he did, putting his phone on don't disturbe mode and went for a walk around the city with his headphones on, to dwelve in some sad tunes and solitude of his own thoughts.
//
Y/N asked Teresa to punch her anytime she looked like she was about to search Lando news. Her roommate refused to do that as it would be a full time job, but did help her set up some tags to block. Saturday was a success, however once Sunday evening and race time rolled in, Y/N knew she was absolutely not ready to try and ignore it. So instead they made a girls evening in about it. The idea was to replace real memories with Lando for race watching and distance him. They were trying... So they sat together with their study books to combine distractions. Y/N was explaining the race rules, avoiding any personal remarks about Lando. To her own disappointment, he was not featured a lot as there was not much really going on for him during the race. But maybe it was for the best. It really felt alienating, seeing his face on the screen, a character in the story of F1, so far removed from the unfiltered smiling face she had burned in her memory. The mood in the apartment was calm, maybe a little mellow. There was a weird calmness in Y/N, as she knew for a fact that he was busy. Knowing that she will definitely not get any text and that he was not ignoring her was soothing for the soul, even if for just few hours. At the end, the girls had way better time than expected, Teresa taking the initiative to comment on all the rest of the drivers and ranking them based on looks and vibes. She became a Leclerc girl all the way in.
"Right, that's my cue to go to the bathroom," Y/N stood up as the post race interviews rolled in. That would be too much at the moment.
"Love the drama vibes you give off. I'll watch it and let you know if there was anything alarming," Teresa assured her.
"Doubt that," was the bitter response she received back.
Once Y/N came back, she returned to her friend sitting with a puzzled look.
"What?!" all the pent up emotions took the stage, all the hard worked stillness gone as if it was a dream.
Teresa sat in silence, looking bluntly at the screen.
"What??!" Y/N repeated impatiently. "Ugh, forget this charade. I'll just watch it." This all felt like she had passed the test, but hadn't learned the lesson at all.
"Yeah, maybe you should. Interesting, his voice is higher that I imagined," Teresa replied as Y/N became to rewind the stream. They sat in silence, as they watched post race Lando in his tiredness, obvious annoyance and visible dark circles under his eyes. A shock went through Y/N at the word limoncello.
"Y/N, it must a coincidence. He's just been to Italy, so the connection was there...means probably nothing," Teresa said quietly as she watched her bewildered friend.
"Limoncello. Name a more Italian drink...What the fuck?? Is he joking right now? What is this?"
"Y/N, he has no idea you're watching, remember?"
"Yeah, I don't care about that. Makes it even worse actually." She replayed his interview once again.
"Ok, that's it - I'm taking this away from you," Teresa ordered after she saw Y/N going for a third round of the interview. "Do you wanna talk about it, talk it through?" So they went on to the kitchen, cooked some pasta while Y/N went on a rant where she let all her thoughts let loose.
//
"Honestly, fuck him. I don't need the mess he brings into my life. I can find great sex on every corner in this city!"
"Yeah, you go girl!"
"You know what, I'm gonna call him!" Y/N turned directions again for 17th time that day.
"Yeah, I kind of thought you would," Teresa sighed tiredly. "And I think you should, the worst thing you might get is a peace of mind...eventually."
"Yeah, I'm gonna do it! Now!"
She dialed his number. The phone rang for the first time. The second and third. With the seventh dial, she hung up. The girls looked at each and Teresa went for a hug.
"He might be busy with some racing stuff?" Teresa said in a tone which suggested that she herself had a hard time believing.
"I'm so stupid," Y/N whispered.
//
Of course he would miss it. Obviously. Because that just what seems to follow him and this girl around. It was deep evening over at her timezone, but still ok for a late night talk. He called back. What was he even planning on saying? He had no idea. When she did not pick up, he called for a second time. She picked up his facetime call and to say his heart skipped a beat would be an understatement. His heart triple jumped. A face appeared in low light. She smiled.
"Hey you," he opened with. The word honey almost slipped his tongue, but he was not sure how it would be received on the other side of the line.
She waved and gestured him to be silent. Lando was bewildered.
"Where are you?" he whispered, trying to unsucesfully figure out from her background. Again, he was met with a shush. Well, this will be real fun, Lando thought, slightly annoyed.
"Wait, you have me in your earbuds...so you need to be silent, not me!" Y/N frowned and nodded. She got up from where she was sitting and started walking.
"Well, since I have some guaranteed no interruption time, let me fill your ears with a story! There once was a beautiful girl, who talked so much and was so obnoxious that the city decided to ban her from speaking. Luckily, she found the most handsome guy in the town to keep her company with his wit, charm and great looks. To reward him for his services she sent him-"
"Ok, you can STOP now," she exclaimed, as she walked down the stairs.
"Where the fuck are you at this hour, young lady. Someone should seriously keep an eye on you!"
"Yeah, well, I sometimes think the same - and then I'm suddenly sitting in some random hotel room hundreds of miles away from where I was supposed to be," she winked at him. "No, I was at the church."
"Oh...you religious? Wait, are the churches still open?"
"Yes, silly. It's Italy, one always is. And no, I'm not religious per say."
"Oh, well then it makes perfect sense that you're hanging out in churches at midnight, yes."
"Yeah, you know. One gets bored."
"Ok, weirdo," Lando laughed.
"No, I like to go there to clear my head. There is some magic in the architecture and in the old walls," she explained. She really did go to get her head clear, to think it out. "Oh, and one day, I'd like to fuck in like a really old building. Not church exactly, but like I dunno. Our university halls are making me super hot sometimes." She had no idea why this was the first thing she'd pick as a topic. God, she felt lame.
"Well, that would be a hard thing to decline, if you're offering."
"Cheeky as ever, are we?"
"Obviously. So, tell me. Whats up? It's nice to see you by the way. I wanted to tell you that before you shushed me down so politely."
"Aw, nice to see you too, man." Lando would prefer to be called differently. "Some school stuff, completely blew my Monday's presentation, so that was fun."
"You should have studied in the weekend, hmm!"
"Yes! I should have," she had a hard time keeping the smiles in, "Anyway, otherwise it's been pretty much a lot of nothing."
"So you called me because you're bored and not because you wanted to talk to me?" He knew he was pushing it. But desperate times... She hesitated and shot him a strange look he could not decipher.
"Did you know we also have leaning tower here in Bologna?" Y/N panned the phone to show him one of the two towers in the city centre. She was walking around with no apparent destination. "Have you been here?"
Lando smiled weakly. There was a strange frustration regarding the distance he felt towards her. Not the physical miles. "Yeah, I've been there once." His Bologna trip was not exactly a great memory. Maybe this call had been a mistake. The last thing he needed now was to feel strange. He showed her the park he had been walking in.
"I'm in Montreal! Have you been?" Y/N also felt some strange vibes coming through this dry conversation
"No, but sounds fun."
"Not really. There has been a lot of pressure at me lately. I'm starting to hate it. Can't say it to anyone, nobody seems to get it." He looked off to Y/N from the start of the phone call. She took few breaths to triple check that she really wanted to break the elephant in the room. It somehow seemed like a "now or never" situation.
"Saw the race today." Lando paused. He suddenly felt the most vulnerable he had ever felt with her. Did she know him from the first moment? Was she lying? He had a hard time gathering out a response. She felt that, so she started blabbering. The cat was out of the bag, so what the hell.
"I broke our rule after we met. Not immediately! But I just...it felt nice meeting you. And I had no idea about racing beforehand. I overheard your name once and I was like "there can't have been two sets of parents naming their child Lando in this century". She looked at his puzzled face. "I'm sorry." Range of emotions floated through Lando, who was particularly sensitive today. It was only a matter of time when she'd find out who he was, he knew the day had to come at some point. But there was a part of him that wanted him to be the one to tell her. To tell his side of the story first, before she could get it elsewhere. He only had to trust her that she wasn't lying from the start. Very few people liked him for him and not "the racer Lando Norris".
But then again, who was he judge? He practically stalked her down - no, not practically, he actually tracked her down. Why did he do that? Because he was wonderstuck too. He liked her. So that meant that she liked him too. Sense of pride took over.
"Don't say sorry. You look too cute doing that," se said feeling braver now and less like a teenager with a crush. "Nah, it's ok. Wanted to spare you of the NDA, but I guess too late now." The more he came to terms with the fact he was not an enigma anymore, the more confident he became. "I mean, I was the one to find you even though you're not exactly famous, so..."
"Yeah!" she said as if she forgot that. "See, bordeline creepy," she laughed, obviously feeling relieved that he hadn't hung up the phone. "But, it's you, so I guess cute?"
"I'd say it's a little problematic on both parts, so we're even, honey."
She laughed. The looks they shared were a little more intimate than their previous looks. A sense of warmth washed over Y/N.
"It's funny. Do you know when I was in Bologna?"
"Ha, I do actually. My friends saw you at a bar."
"Yes...That's not exactly a coincidence. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."
She bit her lip down and closed her eyes. Took a deep breath and replied: "Do you know what was also a massive fail?"
He shook his head.
"I was at Imola. I wanted to "bump" into you accidentally."
Silence followed, as the two idiots took the new information in. Butterflies flying all over Bologna and Montreal.
"I think it's time we stopped dancing around and start being clear with each other or we'll start to look really stupid," Lando stated after a moment.
"Agree, Lando."
"Great, Y/N. I want to see you again soon."
"Me too."
They talked for another hour. Chatting lightly around about this and that, heart racing, not pushing more boundaries anymore that night, as the leap felt big enough to hardly swallow for them at the time. Y/N had final exams so the next weekend was a no go for her. But they agreed she'll come over to Spain, as he calendar was clear until the summer. Apart from seeing each other, confidentiality was a big thing for both of them. They barely knew each other, even if it had felt differently every time they talked.
Y/N was unable to relax that night, as the line "I can't wait to kiss you again," which Lando said instead of a goodbye, burned in her mind with the brightest of all flames. Some people were never destined to be friends.
part 8
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thewritetofreespeech · 7 months ago
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Tressym can be Fickle
WORDS: 692 RATING: G PAIRING: Gale x Tav SUMMARY: based on a very real arguement between my husband & I on who our cat likes more.
It had been a long, arduous, grueling day at the academy.
Though Gale loved his new role as a professor and educator, teaching the young minds of witches & wizards all across Faerun to harness their magic, induction week was the worst. He felt his life was in less peril fighting the Elder Brain or any of their other enemies & cohorts along the Sword Coast than he was now. Testing the new inductees to file them accordingly to their skill. ‘Skill’ being a very loose word tossed around this week.
He returned home that evening with a heavy sigh through the door, an even heavier thud of his satchel filled with books, and a desperate need to be tended to by his spouse. The whole day had been about soothing the egos, feelings, and on occasion literal wounds of new students that Gale thought he deserved some tending to now.
“Tav?” He called out as he put his cloak away. Usually, they greeted him at the door. Or at least acknowledged him when he came home. Curious, Gale walked through the house to try and find them. His search not long as he came upon Tav in the living room. On the couch by a low fire, with Tara on their lap. “Well….don’t you two look cozy.”
“Hmm, we rather are Mr. Dekarios.” Tara agreed. “Or at least we were, until someone started shouting.”
“Apologies for shouting in my own house.” Gale snipped at Tara. Taking his own plush armchair across from them. “Since when did you become a lap cat? And, before you get too ruffled under the feathers, it’s a figure of speech.”
Tara hummed. Seeming to debate about not letting it go but was perhaps indeed to comfortable to make a fuss. “Very recently I suppose. I never had an interest until now.” The tressym purred with her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards Tav and her head scratches.
“You never took an interest with me.” Gale said with a deep frown.
“You do not have nails, Mr. Dekarios.”
The wizard growled and stood up. Unable to watch his dearest friend and lover betray him like this in front of his own eyes. It was still early for dinner but he stalked off towards the kitchen to focus his frustrations on what to eat.
A few moments later, Tav came in. Looking confused on why he was so upset. “Sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s just been a long day. And I am glad that you and Tara are getting along now. Guess I’m being….overly sensitive at being shut out. Tressym can be fickle, but I’ve never known Tara to change her mind about anyone. Again, not that I’m not pleased you two are getting along. I just never thought I would suddenly be second in her estimation.”
“Suddenly second? Please Mr. Dekarios.” The couple turned to see Tara trot in. Seeming interested in their conversation. “I wouldn’t say that you were suddenly second. Not given my high esteem of your mother. A better estimate is which one of you is second on the day, and who is third.”
“Really Tara? Kick a man while he’s down??”
“But, I’m a reasonable creature. Perhaps my estimations can be over swayed. Perhaps with a bit of chicken? Fried pigeons if you have any?”
“So a creature of reason but not honor, eh?” Gale stated, with a wave of his hand as if he wish to brush away this whole conversation.
Before he could leave, Tav wrapped their arms around his waist. Pulling him close. The smell of their hair in his nose. Something like ‘you’ll always be number 1 to me’ muffled into his chest, which causes him to smile and hold them back.
They tell Gale to go upstairs and relax. Take a bath if he liked, while they made dinner. That sounded heavenly, so he did just that.
When he came back down, he was not amused by the roast chicken on his plate. Nor the grinning little tressym in the corner, licking her chops like she’d just swallowed a canary. Or, perhaps, her bribery chicken.
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spidernuggets · 7 months ago
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Jason Todd x Bitchy!Reader
Note: It's note really "bitchy" per se, but idrk what else to put
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You didn't think you were THAT mean of a person. You were only mean when you needed to be. You know, standing up for your friends, standing up for yourself. But sometimes, you think, is it too much?
You were never good with expressing your own emotions. Every time someone gave you a gift, you'd reply with an awkward, muttered "aw.. thanks, it's great." And you'd genuinely love it, but you're just too enclosed to express your gratitude.
Or when you get compliments from your friends, you telk them to shut up and go away. Your friends know you, luckily. They know you appreciate the compliment based on the flushed look on your face when they call you cool or pretty.
But when you met Jason Todd, your friends noticed how happy you looked. They knew you had an on and off relationship with your parents, causing you to act better than everyone else when really you feel like the worst person in the world. Luckily, your friends are supportive of you, and no doubt, did they get excited over your new love interest.
"You know you're not subtle, Y/n," your friend once said to you. "Every time Jason comes by to pick you up or something, your pupils form heart shapes."
You rolled your eyes at the memory, walking into Jason's apartment.
"Hey, Jay," you say, walking up behind the couch, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders and placing a loving smooch against his cheek.
He smiles, his heart getting warm and mushy from the soft affection.
"Hi, babe. I... I got something for ya," he quietly says, reaching for something in the pocket of his sweatpants.
You perched over his shoulder, trying to see what he got.
He pulls out a small black box, and upon opening, it reveals a shiny, sliver necklace with a heart charm. "It's uh..." Jason awkwardly scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks heat up and pink flushes across his face. "It's for the last time you gifted me that switchblade."
Jason wasn't the most confident in gift giving, but the fact that he tried made your heart swell. The hard part was trying to express that feeling.
"Oh.. it's really pretty, Jay. Thanks.." In your language, it translated to 'Oh my god, it's gorgeous, I want to marry you, you're the absolute love of my life'
At this point in your relationship, Jason was well aware of your shallow reactions, but knew that you appreciated the things he offered to you, so he never took your awkward reactions to heart.
Your heart was racing, but you kept thay information to yourself, so you kissed the ruffles of his hair and thanked him again.
You told him you were going to change into your pjs (his hoodie), so you speed walked to your shared room, and quickly shut the door behind you.
Your face was so warm, and you wasted no time putting the necklace on. You held the charm close to your chest, mentally screaming and kicking your feet at the gift and changed into a comfier shirt and sweatpants along with Jason's hoodie.
You were ready to go out to spend some more time with Jason, but he came into the room in a rush.
"Hey, sugar, I got some last-minute work that I got called in for," he kissed your forhead before walking past you, grabbing a bag from the closet.
"I'll won't be back until late, so don't stay up, okay? Make sure to get some sleep, sweetness."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you mutter as he sped out the door.
You sighed and laid on your bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. This wasn't the first time Jason had sped out for a last-minute call into work. It was probably due to his little secret life he's hiding from you.
You wanted to tell him that you knew about his Red Hood alter ego, but you wanted to let him tell you himself when he was ready.
But this dash out the door has become so recent, him leaving even outside his usual schedules that you observed, you're beginning to think that..
What if he's leaving just to get some space from you?
It's a ridiculous thought, but you honestly wouldn't blame him. You agreed with the idea that your lack of words of affection and gratefulness, and attitude could eventually get exhausting.
Another memory with your friends flickered in your head.
"Does your boyfriend ever question how you act?"
A new person was introduced to your friend group. They weren't really aware of why you acted like you did.
"What do you mean?" You sharply replied.
They laugh. "I mean.. you're not the most.. expressive person, Y/n." They reply with a grin. You never like this person. Luckily, they were kicked out of the group shortly.
"Dude-" Your actual friend tried to cut in.
"Ha," you chimed. "Well, it's kind of none of your god damn business." You snarled.
They held their hands up in sarcastic defence. "Calm down. I'm just saying. Show some smiles and gratitude once in a while."
You were close to punching them right in the face before the rest of your friends told them to piss off.
But maybe they're right. Jason deserves more than a weak thanks. He needed more affection, more smiles, and more love. He definitely needs it after every shift from work.
Your relationship might be on the line if you don't up your game.
So early the next morning, you awoke to Jason's arm loosely around your waist. You smiled at his light, tired snores, kissing his chin lightly before rolling away from his warmth and comfort. You tucked him back into the blanket before heading to the kitchen.
It's been almost an hour before you heard Jason's heavy padding for footsteps coming into the kitchen.
"N/n?" He groggily calls out, rubbing his eyes, and the sight was so fucking adorable.
"Morning, Jay Jay!" You excalimed, mentally cringing at the extra sweetness. "Want some breakfast?" You brightly smiled, plating the final portion of scrambled eggs and placing it onto the table, along with the bacon, pancakes, toast, and juice laid on the table.
"Wow, this is a lot. What's the occation?" He asks confused, still tired from waking up.
"What? Can I not spoil you, handsome?" Your stomach churned from your newfound personality, which also cause Jason eyebrow to raise in question.
"I guess?" He said, unsure from your more cheerful mood. "You okay?" He carefully asked.
"More than okay, now that you're awake, baby," you walked up to him, placing a lingering kiss to his lips.
His brows furrowed. "Baby? That's new." He commented before sitting at the table. He knew that the cheesy nicknames were his department. For you, it was either Jay or a joke nickname that had some significance that only the two of you knew the context behind, like troublemaker or stubborn.
"Did you sleep well? How was work last night?" Another development. Needing to know how he was after every activity.
"It.. Good. It was good. You sure you're okay?" There was nothing wrong with the questions you asked. It was just new to him. And the seemingly forced smiles that looked like they were making your cheeks hurt were new, too.
Your smile faltered. "Yeah... why d'you ask?"
He put his utensils down. "It's just new. It's not bad, but.. it seems kind of unnatural for you." He calmly says. Then slowly questions, "Can I ask what brought it on?"
"I..." You hiccuped. All you thought since last night was the thought of Jason leaving you because you can't express your emotions as well as most others.
You didn't even notice the light tears rolling down your face.
"Hey, hey, sweet thing, what's the matter?" He quickly asks with worry, both his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears.
"Don't leave, please.." you whimper.
His face softens. "What? Babe, why would you ever think that?" Your tears are wiped away, but he continues to caress your face.
"I- I thought you were getting tired of me.. I thought I needed to- to be more caring or- or emotional, devoted? I don't know.." You stammered, looking down at his knees, avoiding his attempts to look in your sad eyes.
Oh.
"Oh, my sweetness, I'd never get tired of you. I'm so crazy for you. You don't even know."
"You're always gone.." You pathetically whine.
Jason's hands move away from your face, then quickly occupied to your hands. "Please look at me, Y/n?"
He asked so nicely. You couldn't possibly deny his request. So you look up to share his gaze.
He sighs and starts his long explanation of his occupation as Red Hood. You only knew about the Red Hood part. But he revealed to you everything. From when he was brought in by Batman, he became Robin, died, all the nitty gritty.
And he ended it by revealing he was Red Hood.
You sniffled. "I know." You say quietly.
"What?" He asked dumbfounded.
You could only let out a light giggle. "I already know your Red Hood. You accidently left your thigh holsters in the closet."
And hearing your faint laugh made Jason smile. "Well, why didn't you tell me, N/n?"
"Wanted you to tell me when you were ready," you shrugged. "So.. you're not gonna leave?"
He laughs. "My sweet thing, I love you so much for you."
Your eyes slightly widen. "You love me?"
"You've no idea," he smiles, holding your chin, pulling you in for a passionate kiss.
"Mm, whatever," you mutter between his lips. Instantly, he knew that meant that you loved him too.
"That's my darling."
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