#i decided to blind react at such a bad time

[tony-andonuts]

Cannot believe I have to go to therapy just to be able to replay Omori

[thegnomelord]

just read about demon hunter reader and demon ghost cuddling, and the first thing i thought was how ghost would react if, one of these times, reader ends up having a wet dream and dry humping his ass 😋

about time that our demon thinks of getting laid, he's disgusted and turned on at the same time

Sorry this took a while lads :Dd, I'm getting back into writing after all that shit with my school but I got a summer job as an assistant medical worker with 12h shifts every other day so It might take a bit for me to write stuff.

Hush, Hunter

CW:NSFW, MDNI, demon Simon Ghost Riley x male hunter reader, grinding, wet dreams, handjob, blowjob, size difference (demon ghost is like 11 feet tall.)

Your ‘husband’ is strange, even by demon standards.

He grumbles about the inconvenience brought on by your mortal failings and fragility, growling whenever you have to stop at a gas station to buy food or at some dingy motel to sleep. He grumbles even more about being confined in the stolen human skin suit he's forced to wear to blend in.

You can ignore the stranger with the stolen face and hellfire eyes throwing dark glares at you for the most part, except for when the demon decides to make the binding ring around your finger heat up when you spend too long talking to the pretty cashier. And it only takes a few more seconds of not paying heed to the incessant burn before Ghost Simon looms behind you, glaring at the flustered cashier like she’s a fey trying to trick you into the Fey Lord’s court.

And the big bastard never gives you any explanation on why he’s acting like that, just drags you back to your car, slamming the doors closed with enough strength to shake the entire vehicle. He’s like a cat honestly; hisses at you, but doesn’t want to let you out of his sight or claws.

But when your nightmares get so bad your only chance of sleeping is on the floor, well hidden behind the bed with your back flush with the dingy motel wall, Ghost surprises you by laying down with you. Sure he grumbles about the demeaning position - laying like some mongrel dog - but he still does it.

Ghost is on his side, his broad muscular back to you, rough inky scales swallowing all the moonlight that filters through the blinds and turning him into a pitch black wall of muscle. He’s so still you might even think he’s sleeping – you know he’s not; demons aren’t tied to mortal laws, nor are they subject to time’s iron grip, that’s what makes hunting demons so dangerous. The only indication you have that he’s awake is the occasional twitch of his tail and the slight shuffle of his wings when you accidentally get closer to him in your attempt to get a comfortable position.

You flinch when his one wing spreads out and back, but the blanket of black and blood dyed feathers soon eases the tension in your body. Probably too quickly, definitely too quickly, but Ghost doesn’t draw attention to it and neither do you and the night is cold and he is blissfully warm and he stays stock still when you shuffle a bit closer. You're glad he pays no attention to you when you get comfortable against him, barely an inch of space between you two.

His feathers tickle your face, they’re softer than you’d expect a wrath demon to have, fluffy like the down of chicks. His scent invades your nose, rough leather and steel oil and something distinctly demonic you can’t name. . . but it’s strangely comforting.

Laying only an inch or two away from a demon goes against everything you’ve ever been taught. Your nerves should be on a razor’s edge, but instead you’re calm. You don’t know why your fucked up mind finds comfort in the fact a possible threat would need to go through half a ton of murderous wrath demon to get to you. And you don’t want to think about it either, you’ve had far too many sleepless nights for your brain to care how you manage to sleep so long as you do. And the moment you close your eyes, you’re out like a light.

Ghost has gotten used to your nightmares.

Just like his father’s absent love, your nightmares are consistent. He’s almost impressed how such a frail thing like you could hunt the likes of hydras and Hell Dukes when you barely sleep a wink most nights. The longest you’ve gone is a couple of hours of restful sleep before you woke up trying to claw your eyes out. You never talk about it, nor does he, Ghost may be a demon but he knows far too well how the mind can haunt someone.

And Ghost has gotten good at telling apart the individual nightmares by how you squirm in your sleep.

It takes a little longer for the nightmare to start than usual, but he knows you’re neck deep in it when you heart starts it’s frantic drumming in your chest. He ruffles his feathers as your hands grip his sides, your breath fanning over his skin. He thinks it might be the basilisk haunting you this time by the way you press yourself flush with his back, burying your face into the space between his shoulder blades until your nose is flush with his spine, back hunching to further shield your eyes.

Ghost doesn’t, nor will he ever, mention the low happy rumble that escapes him when you snuggle up to him. His feathers fluff up, the scratchy hair of his tail flattening down - about as silk soft as he can make them. It’s little better than throwing pearls before swine, you won’t remember any of this after all, but doing this strangely doesn’t feel as much of a burden as it should.

Usually the low deep purring growling will chase away your nightmares and lull you into a dreamless sleep for a little while, but not this time. You squirm against his back like an eel, muscles tensing to grip his sides until dregs of pain dance along his spine. Your breath fans across his scales, your heart pounding in his ears like that of a rabbit’s caught in a snare. He’s just about ready to turn around and wake you before he feels it—

Your arousal pokes his back, hard like iron.

Only now does he pick up the slight sweetness of arousal in your adrenaline rich scent. “Hm- fuck.” You mumble as you roll your hips to grind your cock against him. “Slow- fuck fuck- slow down.” You breathe out, and Ghost swears this must be another part of his father’s eternal punishment. The sudden thought that your dream is of a sexual nature smites him with all the intensity of his father’s rage.

Who do you think you are, taking his little mercies for granted? Who do you think you are, grinding against him like some mongrel mutt? Who do you think you are holding him as if you are more than the eventual reward for the maggots fervent prayers? Who do you think you are—

“Ghost- Simon. . .” His name, his original name, leaves your lips; it’s the softest he’s ever heard you speak.

“Human.” He seethes and rolls around, pushing the warm feeling –warm like a campfire compared to the blistering pits down below that usually dwell in his chest– out of his mind. “Disgusting.” You’re so small compared to him, your head could easily fit in his rough hand, a momentary lapse in the binding’s protection all that it would take for his flesh rending claws to cleave through your skull. He’s thought about it often, of the look in your eyes as your life fades, of how good your blood would taste, of how nice your shoulder would look with his teeth marks on it. . .

His hand is gentle as he reaches to brush your cheek, like he’s handling glass, rumbling when you lean into the touch. “Wretched thing.” He growls, hand sliding from your cheek to your back and pulling you close. He feels you nuzzle into his wide chest, carefully bullying his thigh between yours, steel hard muscle tensing to give you a good surface to grind on. “Nothing more but a mongrel waste of flesh.” He doesn’t notice how quickly his voice has lost heat, barely above a murmur as he listens to your breathless gasp and watches your back arch.

For someone usually so guarded, you are painfully naked in flesh and soul, responding so wantonly to his touches; from low moans to soft little murmurs of ‘Simon’ and ‘more’ that has him mindlessly rubbing his thigh against your crotch in hopes of getting more of those so painfully human sounds. You moan and nuzzle into his chest, your body like soft clay in his hands now that you’re no longer shackled by the chains of pride and prejudice that your mind conjures around him

You’re like a strange bug to him; a part of him wants to pin you down, to tear you apart with vicious claws and see if there’s anything different in the way your heart beats, in the way your lungs move, in the way you exist — something substantial to show why holding you in his arms doesn’t feel as degrading as it should.

He wonders, briefly, if this is what God saw that made him love Adam so much. Why God did not have the heart to kill Adam for his disobedience.

Greed moves his hands like they’re puppets on strings, flesh rending claws carefully tracing the bumps of old and fresh scars that dot your abdomen — perhaps you aren’t so pathetic, it takes strength to survive this long. Your skin prickles from his touch, your breath fanning over the rough belly scales protecting his front as his hand slowly moves down. He hooks a claw under the band of your underwear and pulls down until your cock springs out right into Ghost’s hand.

Ghost hasn’t seen many cocks before, why would he?, but a low sound comes from his chest at how neatly your cock fits in his hand, how neatly all of you fit against him. And only now does it dawn on him that he doesn’t know how to do this— he’s a wrath demon for fuck’s sake, he understands war and bloodshed like it’s the back of his hand, but this? This is new territory.

Well, he’s never been one to back down when he’s gotten this far.

His hand slowly closes into a fist, just a little loose around you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t be anything but gentle in the way he strokes you. Your hips move on their own, gentle little rocks to fuck your cock into his fist and he follows along with the motion. It’s a little rough at first, he feels how the dry slide of his hand makes you shiver, but he soon finds a nice pace as your precum eases the glide of flesh on flesh.

He wants to see your face when you moan, but he can’t bring himself to pull you away from his chest when you cling to him so sweetly, your lips mindlessly ghosting over his scales. So he contends himself with coiling his tail around your leg, draping a wing over you so there’s a barrier between you and the rest of the world, so no creature from heaven high or deep below may entertain the thought of taking what’s his.

No good thing lasts for long.

He feels you wake like the first thaw in spring, slow and gradual, eyes fluttering open, mind still clouded with pleasure to really understand the position you’re in. He takes advantage of that, gripping your hip to keep you close, swirling his tumb in the precum beading at your head and squeezing his hand just right to coerce a breathless moan from your chest.

Then your eyes snap open, realisation hitting you with the same intensity as the punch you throw at his skull. But the ‘marriage’ turns that show of force into a gentle caress of the skull cheek of his ‘face’. “Ghost what the fuck are you-” You begin, cut off as another clench of his hand has you gripping his forearm and biting your lip to silence yourself. 

“Oh hush hunter.” Ghost rumbles low in his throat, his wing tensing behind your back to bring you in closer, soft blood dyed feathers encasing you in a cocoon of warmth against his cool belly scales. “No need to wake the other worms.” Disdain and mockery drip from his voice like molasses, yet strangely it doesn’t feel aimed at you. . . it must just be the pleasure making you believe that.

“You- bastard!” You snarl, trying to summon the hunter savagery that had been meticulously beaten into you, but it slumbers like a fat cat. “Fuck off- get away from me.” You aim to slam your fist against his scaled abdomen, just a little lower and to the side where the floating ribs should be, but all you manage is a slow caress of his side and back up his chest where you can feel his eternal soul burning beneath the flesh.

He laughs and slides his hand down, rolling your balls in his wide hand and squeezing just enough to be at the edge of pain– shit, that should not feel so good. You hiss and throw your head back despite the inherent danger of exposing your throat. He tilts his head down, ghostly breath washing over your ear, “We both know if you wanted this to stop you would have done so.” Oh, now you can just feel the mockery in his voice, sweet like honey that it is.

Some petulant part of you thinks of arguing, anything to retain what remains of your damn pride, but then he slides his hand back up, pressing your cock against your stomach and grinding the palm of his hand against your shaft and all the thoughts of arguing are pushed to the side by the tide of pleasure. Fuck, it’s been far too long since you ‘took care’ of things, it’s not like you have much time to wank off, let alone with Ghost hanging over your shoulder like some grim reaper. And hell, if any other hunter heard you let a damn demon jack you off, yours would be the next head put on the stake but. . . but Ghost is surprisingly gentle with you, not a single hint of pain coming from his touches, not even from his claws gently running down your side.

“Fine-” You suck in a sharp breath, head fixed to stare directly at his chest. “Make it quick.”

You feel him smirk against your ear, “As you wish, hunter.” He laughs lowly, like you’re nothing but a cute puppy chewing on his shoelaces, “Though, you should thank me for debasing myself like this.” He growls, and with a sharp move of his wing he rolls you on your back. 

You gasp as your back hits the sleeping mat, and before you can even struggle Ghost looms over you, a wall of muscle and dark scaled flesh. “Fuck no.” You growl, some scraps of pride still clinging to your mind, though even those are threatened when his broad hand returns to stroking your cock, faster this time, the drag of his palm making pleasure sizzle up your spine. Your head rolls back to rest on the mat and you don’t even notice when you close your eyes. You’re not sure how Ghost is so good at this, something sharp like jealousy curling in your stomach at the thought of him doing this to someone else. But it’s hard to think when you can feel and hear him purring, his claws gently tracing your stomach and leaving lingering heat everywhere they touch.

You jump as something slick brushes over your balls, “Look, good hunter.” He growls and you listen without thought, eyes wide when you see his tongue— it extends from the darkness of his head just beneath the rotten upper teeth of his skull, long, black, thick strings of oil coloured spit dripping off his tongue. “That’s better,” He purrs; you’re not sure how he can talk, and you’re unable to ask because he leans in closer until your cock rests against his skull, his hellfire eyes burning in the darkness and giving just enough light for you to see his long black tongue curl around your base like a snake. 

Shit– he wants to kill you.

“Holy fuck Ghost-” You breathe out, lungs burning before you remember how to breathe. His tongue moves, squeezing your base and sliding lower to lap at your balls. You’re forced to bite your finger to stop the painfully pathetic sound burning on your tongue.

He stops moving and you’re thankful he doesn’t mention the whine that slips past your lips. “Simon.” He demands, oily spit clinging to your skin and making it tingle with heat.

“Simon.” You nod along dumbly, “Fuck- Simon.”

“Good.” You imagine he’s smiling when he says that, his hand returning to stroke your cock in reward. “Call me that again.” He says, a purr rumbling in his chest and you can’t help but moan at how the vibrations travel through his tongue, making it act like a vibrating toy.

Your hands fly to grip his horns, the pleasure making you throw your head back yet you try to keep your eyes on him, hiccuping his name between harsh breaths. He doesn’t mind the touch on his horns, leaning into the touch before flicking his tongue at your taint. He rewards you for each time you say his old name, tongue and hand working in tandem to slowly and steadily march you towards release. 

You try to tug on his horns to warn him, or maybe to pull him away, but he pays no heed; he doubles his efforts, wetly slurping at your balls and base while his hand toys with your crown, his free hand holding your hips down so all you can do is weather the pleasure until you’re finally pulled under the waves. “Simon-” You gasp, cum spurting all over his hand and your stomach. 

You watch through lidded eyes as he retracts his hand, keeping his gaze on you as he lazily licks up your cum from his hand. “Better than I expected.” He rumbles, more to himself than you, leaning up to drag his long slimy tongue across your stomach to gather up all your cum.

 Shit, that sight got you hard again before you could even soften.

You’re not sure if the greed you see spark in his eyes makes you scared or even harder, but you’re not left any room to think further about it before his tongue wraps around your cock again.

Unfortunately for you, demons have no concept of time as mortals know it, so his ‘quick’ ends up being the entire rest of the night. At one point you get to the point you’re sure Ghost is trying to kill you with all the pleasure, spit polishing your cock until he’s satisfied and by that point the sun is rising and your voice is hoarse.

You can’t meet the gaze of the motel receptionist in the morning, but Ghost Simon, looks smug like the cat who ate the canary.

[serxa]

Hello!!! Idk if you’re doing requests still, but I was wondering if you could do Tiresias x reader head canons SFW/NSFW? Your writing is really good, and there’s just not enough of Tiresias. 💕

Sincerely,

🦆 anon.

TIRESIAS HEADCANONS—NSFW and SFW

IDK MUCH ABT TIRESIAS, BUT SURE🥹 ALSO AAAACKKK THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST!

More Hermes and Telemachus headcanons upcoming dww

Pairing: Alive soul!Reader x Alive soul!Tiresias, Dead soul!Reader x Dead soul!Tiresias

Divider before the NSFW part!

Origin and confessions SFW

-When you two were still alive, he had a big crush on you

-you two were just teens, around 15

-He loves admiring you as you two talk.

-Mostly quiet and let's you ramble if you want, or if you just what to be quiet, he'll go along with it and just simply admire you as you do your own thing.

-Loves making flower crowns for you back then

-Confessed using a leftover parchment scroll, and hid in his house since he didn't want to see how you react, good or bad

-Left it on your small desk before he started to avoid you like a plague whenever he saw you in your guy's town.

-When you finally got a hold of him he would look anywhere BUT you.

-You just kissed him to get his attention, which he loved.

-He's a huge sub, but gets mad at you if you don't take good care of yourself.

-Cares more about your well-being than his, so when you said you we're starving, and he doesn't want to seem obvious he likes you, he would pretend he doesn't care but later would give you a bowl of food.

DATING SFW

-When he lost his vision, (He accidentally walked in on his mother and Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, bathing, Athena sprayed water on his eyes and he lost his vision, but there are other versions saying that he said Women had greater pleasure than men, but it was never really confirmed who did it) He basically cried to you.

-Yet that was also the time he started seeing future sightings, since Athena gave it to him for exchange for his blindness so he was fascinated also.

-"I can't see your face anymore."

-You and Tiresias go way back, even when you two were alive, you two were already together.

-He's really gentle with you, and touches your face when he wants to admire you because he can't properly see anymore.

-Still compliments you even when he couldn't see anymore.

-"Your lips are soft." He mumbles after you two kiss.

-When he holds your face, he memorises your features and construct them in his mind to know what you look like, especially when you two were aging.

-Loves and I mean loves holding you.

-Whenever you two are walking around, he needs to hold at least your hand or you have to hook your arm around his.

-You were his guide ever since he became blind, following you and keeping his arm hooked around yours.

-A huge softie, and loves telling what he sees in your guy's future.

-You always asked him if he see's you two breaking up, yet he always says no so it relieved you, but one time, he decided to tease you and say yes, making you panic.

-Had a lot of reassuring to do when he told you that.

-"Do you see us getting married?" You asked one time and he just stares at a far. "... Nah. We're already dead."

-You didn't talk to him for a while then, and just avoided going to the cliff where he stayed.

-Even when you talk to other dead souls that's a man your age, he gets highly jealous, He finds out because of his 'visions'

-When you visit his cliff, he immediately knows it's you because of so called your 'aura' (Do not make it anything brainrot.)

-"You just have a certain soft glow on you." He murmurs whenever you ask how he knows it's you. But you also know it's because of his future sightings.

-Thinks you're the most beautiful girl ever, next to Aphrodite of course

Dating NSFW

-When you two were still alive, he's really soft, not really wanting to exert into doing it with you, unless you beg him to

-But there was one time he got too needy and he begged you to help him with his neediness

-Say's he's lucky that you two died a bit young because, "You still have your young body"

-If you're a woman, he would honestly praise your curves

-If you're a man, he's 100% the bottom

-Doesn't know what to do when you're top, and just freezes with a dark red tint of his face.

-He's pathetic, and I mean PATHETIC.

-This man begs for your attention when you two are fucking, he just wants your eyes on him, especially when you're on top.

-He sometimes laughs at you and when you ask, he says "Cause you look like a prostitute"

-When he went blind, it did not stop his hunger for you.

-Is more handsy when he got blind because he wanted to memorize each inch of your body, so he could touch himself to the image he created in his mind.

-Normal has his hands on your chest, waist, or ass

-He's above average, around 7.8 inches in length, but IS THICK. 2. 7 inches THICK.

-He loves if when you cock warm him, especially when you two are in the underworld and is needy.

[kasagia]

imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊

Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift

“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.

"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.

"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.

"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.

You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.

You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.

As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.

And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.

Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.

"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."

You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.

You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.

Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.

"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.

"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"

"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."

"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.

"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."

You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.

You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.

"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.

You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.

"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."

"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.

Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.

You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.

You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.

You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.

"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.

The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.

You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.

But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.

The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.

You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.

You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.

The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.

Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.

As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.

"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.

"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"

"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.

"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.

"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.

The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.

"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.

You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.

"Bad day?"

You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.

"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.

"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."

"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.

"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."

"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.

"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."

"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.

"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"

"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...

Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.

"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."

"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.

"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.

"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.

A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.

"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.

"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.

"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.

Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.

"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.

"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.

All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.

It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.

Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.

He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.

Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.

A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.

Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.

He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.

Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.

Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.

However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.

"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.

He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.

He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.

"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.

"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."

Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.

Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.

With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.

"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."

"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."

"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."

"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."

"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."

"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.

"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.

You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.

You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.

"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"

"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.

"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"

"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."

"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."

"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."

"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.

Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.

You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.

But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?

Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.

You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..

Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.

You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.

You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.

Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.

"I didn't hear your bike."

"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.

"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.

"I had an accident."

"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.

"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.

"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.

"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...

"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.

You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.

"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.

"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.

"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.

"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.

"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.

"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.

You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.

You missed him.

"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.

"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.

You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.

"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.

"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.

"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.

But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.

"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"

"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.

"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.

"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?

"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.

So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.

You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.

Fuck, you missed it.

The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.

You think about escaping, but:

1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.

2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.

3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.

That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.

As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.

"What is it?"

"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.

He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.

"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.

"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."

"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.

"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.

"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.

"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.

"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.

"And then you will decide."

"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.

Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?

Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.

On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.

"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.

"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.

A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.

Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.

"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.

"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.

"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."

You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.

Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.

"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.

"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.

He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?

You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.

"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.

"Nothing."

Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.

Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.

You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.

Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.

Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.

His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?

For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.

He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.

"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."

You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.

With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.

Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.

For now, God listened to a sinner like you...

You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.

His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.

You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.

"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.

The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.

"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."

You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.

And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.

You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.

"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.

"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.

Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,

He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.

Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.

And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.

You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.

After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.

[frillydolle]

Hiii!! Do ye think you could do smth where arthur reacts to us getting hurt? it can be us in a gang or wutever :3c lv ur stuff!!

tags ͡˚̣̣̣𓎟𓎟　 ur so bad at stealing　 karen defends you　 arthur is disappointed　 a.m ౨ৎ ⋆ ｡ ˚

you were with mary-beth, tilly and karen out in rhodes. the three of you decided to scout about and see if any of you could find anything or— most likely, rob folks of their goods for the good of thr gang. the camp was in a small struggling tim ever since the... interesting situation back in valentine. yes it was the three girl out in town, what could go wrong? a lot, apparently.

you and the girls were grouping up together, done your activities of whatever. you were a little behind, never really robbed people blind before since you often would rather stick in camp grounds since you knew what you were doing. yes, you were good at shooting, chores amd defending yourself but thieving? never been good at that..

“didya just rob me, miss?!” “n-no, i—”

“she didn't do nothin' wrong! shes been with us the whole time.” karen interrupted as mary-beth and tilly waited for the two of you to continue walking. soon, your neves Bevin to heighten as you could easily tell that the man didn't believe any of it. “nah, i saw her! she took my goddamn money!” before you could even defend yourself, the man took out a knife and he slashed your face!

your eyes fluttered quickly, adjusting to just seeing a sharp, clean knife come close to your face. your hand reaches to touch your cheek, feeling the red coating your fingers like an embrace which made your breath hitch just slightly. this hasn't ever happened before. you've never gotten hurt since you've never left camp without arthur. anyway, you're too focused on your injury to pay attention to karen causing a small scene with the man that hurt you.

before the situation escalated even worse, the three of you were able to escape with mary-beth's sweet talking a carriage who was kind enough to drop the three of you just close enough to camp. maybe suspicious to the man in charge but hey paid no mind.

so now, here you are. you're sitting on ur cot while mary-beth is cleaning the gnash on your face, even though you were really just preparing yourself for the slight lecture from arthur. only because you never left camp without him and hed often insist, he'd hate for something to happen to uou if he couldn't help — it wasn't your fault! you thought you did well even if you did receive a cut as a form of punishment, moments like these often have you question if the universe really did try to punish you, trying to change your outlaw ways. it never worked.

“there she is... my silly girl.” arthur says, his tone laced with kindness and a sort of condescending tone, too. hes making his way over to you, and you immediately looked away as you couldn't look at him, knowing the lecture you're about to receive. “what have i told ya 'bout leavin' without me?” and you looked away with a pout, not wanting to have thus conversation since you knew you were silly for it.

“darlin'...” he warned just slightly, he wasn't mad, he was disappointed and he wanted to know your reasoning for leaving without him for such an easy move. “not to without ya, but—” “'nd look what happened t'ya.” and u may have rolled your eyes, not at him but more at yourself for the stupid act. he just wanted to make sure nothing so horrible happened to you.

he'd hate himself if he thought he lost you. especially after what happened with him and mary, even him and eliza. “didn't mean to! thought i'd be easy.. since i wasn't alone. you ain't mad at me, right?” you say as your looking uo at him, totally not pouting at him. you didn't mean to get the cut on your face, you've just never been good at robbing people blind. “'course i ain't sweetheart. jus' had me worried when tilly told me what happened.” he says before hiding big hands cups your cheek, carefully not adding weight to the wound on ur face.

“'m comin' with ya everytime yer gonna do somethin' like that, ye hear?”

“'course, love.”

[sheepispink]

୨✧୧˚ ACTING DIFFERENT ˚୨✧୧

✧ resident evil masterlist

✧ tags: fluff, reassurance, hurt/comfort, leon kennedy x afab! escort!reader

✧ Summary: You’re an escort for Leon, and you’re pretty confident in your own abilities. Although, it’s pretty funny to see you two together, especially since he looks pretty brooding on an actual job. Despite that, some jealous interns make it their mission to put you down for the way you act with him, calling you selfish and the like. You shift, trying to be ‘better’ but Leon is determined to get the bottom of this.

✧ a/n : technically this is a part of my series ‘the escort protocol’ found here, however it is a standalone too.

————————————————————————

It would’ve been a normal day in the office, that is if you hadn't just walked straight past him whilst he drank the largest coffee cup known to man. He grumbles as you ignore him for the third time that day; he saw you glance at him and then the cup and then still decide to carry on. He lets out a huff as he tosses the cup behind him into the bin before resting his head in his hands; the cup was empty, of course—he just wanted to see you react. That is the exact problem actually, because you haven't reacted to anything he’s done for a whole week now. The first day was already crossing the line, but he figured you were in a bad mood. Then the second day you continued and by the third he started questioning if this was a new symptom of your menstrual cycle. He felt a bit bad if it was (and also for blaming your mood swings on that) so he gave you a chocolate bar randomly. It was your turn to be confused that day because it turned out he just gave you chocolate for nothing and you were in fact not on your period.

All of this started last Friday. He hadn't been at the office on Thursday because quite literally he couldn't be bothered and would rather continue work at home— plus he was feeling a little more tired than usual. Of course you text him, asking if he was okay and offering to drop off food if he was sick, that was before you scolded him upon realising he had been slacking off. When he came in on Friday, he expected a huff of frustration before you made him buy you a coffee but there was nothing except an “Are you feeling better?” and then you were disappearing into your small box desk again. He raised an eyebrow but didn't think much until you walked past him downing a soda and barely said anything. The next day was the same, and then the next and the next until he was fed up. If there was a guiness world record for the most crap ingested in a day, he’d take the gold medal home. He had eaten a burger every lunchtime, had way too many cups of coffee each morning and even munched sweets instead of cereal and you still didn't say anything. The worst part was that you always just stopped, stared before eventually deciding to walk away again.

So today he tried for the last time before he finally gave up. He’s just going to have to ask you head on; there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook this time. He finds you in your usual spot at lunch, munching your sandwich on the park bench near the office. It’s quiet and no one really comes to the park here and whilst he’s never actually joined you before, he knows you come here often.

“Hey.”

You lift your head to meet his, suddenly caught off guard by his presence in the quiet park. “What are you doing here?”

“Y'know—just thought I'd ask if you wanna grab a drink with me?”

“What kind of drink?”

“Uhh… a slushie.”

You pause and then raise an eyebrow at him, confused. He’s sure he’s got you now; there's no way you can turn a blind eye to a slushie at break time. But you do. “Oh um, i’m okay, but if you want to-“

“What the hell is wrong with you?” You blink at him in confusion, shocked as he huffs loudly, breaking the tranquility of your spot, and stands right before you.

“Um, nothing?”

“It’s not nothing! You’ve barely commented on anything I've done all week. I drank soda for a week straight and you barely breathed wrong about it!”

“Shouldn’t you be happy about that? They all said that you would-“ This time he crosses his arms and stares you down and for a moment you’re actually kind of scared of him. You haven't seen him this annoyed since his superior in the DSO joked about blackmailing him with Sherry again.

“I’m sorry— who said what?”

“It’s not a big deal, I was just talking to some people..” But he’s already cutting you off and you know you can't escape the truth when he speaks again.

“If it's not a big deal, then you can tell me right? Go on.”

You let out a long sigh, attempting to make it seem like it's not that serious. His eyes are locked onto you and you have to avert your gaze to stop yourself messing up when you speak. “It was just a passing conversation between me and some interns last Thursday.” You shrug, taking a bite out of your sandwich as you look at the scenery, attempting to act nonchalant about it.

“And? That's not all, I know it isn't.” You groan and shift uncomfortably, letting out another huffed breath. “They just said I keep you in check a lot; I stop you from doing a lot of stuff.”

He’s not buying a second of it though and you don't even have to wait for him to urge you on to know he wants the full story.

“Fine, okay, they said that I was really bossy towards you and that I should let you do what you want.”

“What else? I know you wouldn’t care if a mere intern said that, so what's with the sudden change?” He rolls his eyes, sitting beside you on the bench as you groan and fiddle with the food wrapper in your hand. “They said I'm just an idiot who took the first job she could get and now I'm acting all high and mighty when I have the status of a mere assistant. Apparently you always look annoyed when I “scream at you” for doing anything i dont like and I'm also just an attention seeker or something. I left soon after..” The words are mumbled and he hates the way he can tell you’re ashamed of yourself when you avert your eyes like that and take the last bite of your sandwich.

“You’re such an idiot, yknow? Why on earth would you ever be bossy?” He scoffs, letting his arms settle in his side and he leans back into the bench. You dont reply, and he can't help but feel a gut full of worry for you. “You believe it, don't you?”

“I mean- it’s true a bit, is it not? You’re a higher status than me and I just.. decide what you can and can't do.”

“You do realise if i really had a problem with it, i just wouldn’t listen to you, right?”

“Yeah but- either way, surely I'm still annoying with my constant remarks.”

Your gaze shies away from him again and it causes a pang of guilt knowing you really did take some of their words to heart. He lets out a small sigh and shuffles up beside you, resting an arm on the back of the bench.

“Sometimes I forget that this is technically your first job out of university. You haven't done anything wrong in the slightest, alright? They’re just putting you down because they’re jealous. Just interns, that's all they are. But you’ve got authority and a position here. Hasn't every other staff here been nice to you and respectful? Hey, even the reception lady encouraged you to scold me the other day, didn't she?”

“..I mean yeah, she did and everyone else laughs about it too..” His hand slips down from the bench, patting your shoulder lightly before rubbing at it.

“Exactly, and you don't do it to annoy me do you?” He loves the way your lips curl into a frown at the accusation, horrified he would ever assume that.

“What? No, I only do it because you drink way too much coffee and you end up not sleeping well. Plus you always tend to eat fast food like every lunch, it’s not good for you.”

“So what's the harm done, hm? You’re not trying to be mean, I clearly don't mind it at all either. So stop beating yourself up about it.”

He gives you another quick squeeze as you mumble “okay”, and then finally retracts his arm, Though not before poking your forehead with his finger, intent on cheering you up. “I can't believe you’re actually three years younger than me. You’re so little, you know? I can’t believe you’ve only had one job your entire life.” The way you roll your eyes and stand up has him chuckling at your exasperated expression.

“I know what you’re going to do, don't even try ruffling my hair.”

“Would you prefer I carried you over my shoulder like a kid instead?” He wont forget the glare you gave him, crossing your arms at him and staring him down until he chuckles and stands himself.

“You know you’re not very intimidating, maybe you should try dressing up as a bioweapon— might even scare yourself. Anyway, cmon,” He remarks, picking up your work bag and slinging it on his shoulder before throwing your sandwich wrapper into the nearby bin.

“I think I have to go move some interns to a new state.” He smirks at you when he says it but deep down he’s dead serious; he won't let anyone put that ashamed expression on your face again.

Bonus:

“Hey, you know all those days i saw you eating that junk food, did you actually want to eat all of that?” You tilt your head up at him, almost about to scrunch your face up in disgust. He can't exactly blame you, after all, a burger for lunch every day isn’t appealing in the slightest.

“Well, the coffee was fake.”

“What about the food?”

“…” He’s already anticipating the punch you plant on his arm, huffing in annoyance.

“Leon!”

[bunni-v1]

Can I please request a reader that has been so traumatised by what’s happened in the Scarabia book that they actively avoid the entire dorm and have Ace and Deuce as their guard dogs (I love those two and I really love how you wrote them as the readers protective besties during the Malleus break up fic). Like how would Kalim, Jamil and Adeuce react to that?

I find it really cathartic when I read fics that have the characters feeling guilty after what they put the reader through whilst the reader is getting support from their friends.

(Something I’m really salty about in twst is how no one ever holds the overblots accountable for what they’ve done. I full on agreed with Ace when he told Riddle that crying wasn’t going to erase all that he did before the overblot and I literally fell in love with him when he punched Riddle after he insulted us/Yuu/the player. I understand that those boys are traumatised and are in desperate need of therapy and overblotting was the only way for their problems to be solved but the treatment they inflicted on Yuu/us was downright hellish. Azul made us homeless and tore us away from the only family/comfort we had in twst (the ghosts) and then sent the tweels to terrorise us in our attempts to reclaim said home and free our friends from servitude; Jamil kidnapped us, hypnotised us, locked us up in a room against our will, isolated us from Adeuce and took away any contact we had with them, forced us on long marches in the dessert and turned a blind eye to our clear suffering during that time; Vil acted like a literal demon to not only us (and then almost made my Deucey cry) but everyone else as well and that was before he decided to try to murder an innocent teenager. Like why does no one understand just how much this can damage an actual child who has no magic and has been stripped from their home and family?)

Reader Terrified of Scarabia After Jamil’s Overblot

TW: PTSD; Mental Breakdown; Disassociation; Mentions of Abuse; Kalim and Jamil are tragic

Info: Ace, Deuce x Reader (platonic or romantic); Kalim, Grim x Reader (platonic); Jamil and Reader (neutral)

🍓I love requests like this tbh. My own OC sorta has her own grapplings with this stuff that I like to touch upon, and I’m excited I get the chance to talk about it here :) THIS IS LONG AS HELL BTW(like this intro here lol). I had a lot of fun writing it :))) I added a cute, shorter little grim part, because our little guy deserves more lovin’ than he gets. I also decided to do a cute little (read: long) intro, and then head cannons since you didn’t specify for either. I hope you enjoy this style, and I’m sorry for the wait <3

You had been through… a lot in your time at Night Raven College. Being thrown into a completely different world would’ve been enough, but it seems that the great seven thought you needed some extra troubles. You weren’t sure how you could’ve encored their wrath, but you were, and you were chugging along despite it all.

First was the attack from the phantom in the mines — something that should’ve been foreshadowing for what was to come. You didn’t even do anything to be in this position. It was Ace Grim and Deuce, but you got dragged into it all because you were “Grim’s keeper.” You managed to befriend Ace and Deuce though, so it wasn’t so bad.

Second was Riddle with his unending temper and strict rules. Despite everything telling you to just stay out of it, your good-natured heart just couldn’t stop you from helping Ace and Deuce. Nearly dying in the process, you managed to help Riddle and made newfound friends in Heartslabyul. 

Third came Leona, the selfish, stuck-up, lazy no-good prince of the Savannah. You knew he was trouble from the start, and you wanted nothing to do with him or his little lackey Ruggie. Then he hurt Trey, and you couldn’t stand by while he reigned terror on the school. He was a favorable ally to gain in the end, so you could dismiss his actions so long as he kept in his lane.

Fourth was Azul, another student you figured would cause you trouble. With the extra scary Jade and Floyd always tailing him, and that too buttery sweet voice of his, you were determined to keep your distance. Again, however, your friends were in trouble and you couldn’t help but help them. Azul was a broken person, and you could sympathize with his struggles. He even gave you a job at the lounge to help with funding yourself, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

You’d come to dislike the other house wardens out of principle. A pattern had emerged among them, and you weren’t going to fall victim to another horrific overblot. You still had suction cup-shaped bruises on your arm from Azul’s breakdown. Leona had given you more than just a nasty burn from the scalding hot whirlwind of sand he conjured up. The scars Riddle left behind on your face and arms were healed, but they still ached when you touched them. All painful reminders that you could not truly trust anyone here, that anyone could lose control of themselves and hurt you. Yet…

When you met Jamil in the kitchen, he seemed so kind to both you and Grim. He seemed so genuine and honest. Maybe it was wishful thinking, or maybe it was you missing your friends, but you wanted to trust him despite your gut feeling to be distrustful. Could everyone here really be that bad? Certainly not. Ace Deuce and Jack went here as well… so surely… surely…

The alarm bells didn’t ring at all during the dinner, and Kalim — despite everything you’ve been through — seemed so nice, if not a little overbearing. You could see the tiredness on Jamil's face, and you had the kindness in your heart to express your sympathies. And oh, Jamil so humbly assured you that he was fine. Filling your head with little half-truths and ideas that Kalim had been overworking not only him but the other students. That he had been acting “off” as of late.

You saw Kalim’s sudden shifts in personality. How he would be so sweet, so kind and soft. How he made sure you were enjoying yourself, made sure you ate to your heart's content, made sure you were comfortable in your uniform and your sleeping quarters. Then he would be yelling at everyone, demanding unspeakable exercises and work.

If Ace were there with you, he would’ve called bullshit. Still, you trusted Jamil to start. You actually believed he was kind and had good intentions. You believed that Kalim was the real evil here.

Then he wouldn’t let you and Grim leave, and the students were suddenly so aggressive toward you. He took everything you had and stripped you of your dignity and pride until there was nothing left but fight.

Truly, you didn’t realize it was him that was the issue until he was over-blotting in front of your eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight to you at that point, you’d defeated multiple overblots and befriended these people. You don’t know what it was. The way you’d trusted him. The fact that you felt truly alone without Ace and Deuce. This one broke you…

You just didn’t feel a damn thing after he was saved. You felt no pity, no joy, no relief. Absolutely nothing, an empty void in your chest. Even as everyone around you celebrated, there was nothing. You stood watching everyone parade around with glee blankly, unable to speak to anyone around you. Just listening to the voices that had begun to mesh together.

You didn’t show anything until Ace and Deuce showed up. Something about their faces, the way they were looking over you, the way they seemed so scared for your wellbeing… it made you cry. It made you cry and cry and cry until you couldn’t make any noise and then you cried some more. They had to drag you away from everyone because you just couldn’t quite stand upright when Deuce would try to get you to walk away with him…

The days after were blurry. You remained holed up in your dorm, unable to really move from your bed. Ace and Deuce stayed in their own separate room next to yours. You could hear them talking through the walls about how worried they were about you, how angry they were at Jamil, how angry they were at themselves for not getting there in time to help you. If you’d had the energy, you would’ve scolded them for being so hard on themselves, but you could hardly speak in the first place.

They cared for you as best as they could. Deuce attempted to cook the recipes Trey sent him over magicam, making sure you ate and stayed hydrated. Occasionally you’d hear Azul downstairs, and Deuce would give you something nice from the Monstrolounge — free of charge, he promised. You could tell that he wasn’t sleeping much in his worry over you. 

Grim remained at your side as loyal as a dog and boasting that he’d keep you safe, but you knew he was scared too. He proclaimed that he would keep you safe, but you could feel him trembling at every sudden noise. You had to comfort him from the horrific nightmares he was having. That was okay, though, he was family and you were his.

Ace was the only one who really kicked your ass into gear. He’d tug you out of bed and into the shower as people began to return from winter break. Made you go on walks around campus to show you that you were completely safe. Eventually, he’d been able to get you to visit Azul to thank him directly for his kindness. He wasn’t soft or gentle with you, that wasn’t in his character at all, but he made sure you felt safe enough to return to classes before they started.

They both worked hard to help you recover, but you were still so afraid…

Ace

-Ace isn’t exactly the most comforting person, and he never claimed to be. 

-He’s not good at reassuring people, but he’s good at being honest, and if he was being honest he knew that you were safe around him and Deuce.

-He walks you to and from classes, spends most of his nights in your dorm doing whatever the hell you’d like him to do without complaint, distracts you when you’re freaking out, and most importantly keeps that snake as far away from you as possible.

-If he was being honest with himself, which was his whole thing, he didn’t really get your reaction to everything. 

-You’ve all been through this before, it's textbook at this point. A guy does some shady shit, a guy gets caught doing said shady shit, a guy overblots, and you defeat a guy with the power of friendship. Boom. Done.

-He’d get it more if you were completely alone, but grim and the octanivelle freaks were there! Kalim too, and he’s always seemed pretty nice. Not the best company, sure, but still you had people helping you out.

-When he looks at your face and sees how tired you are, he forgets the logical stuff. All he can hear are those horrific sobs you let out when you saw him and how you nearly ripped his uniform in half with how tightly you were holding him and Deuce.

-If that was too much for him, he can’t imagine how badly it must’ve felt for you. How bad it must still feel.

-So screw what he thinks, he’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

-He doesn’t ask you how you’re feeling, he knows it's not good. He focuses on keeping your mind off of everything that might trigger you.

-Reroutes your paths to classes to avoid Jamil and Kalim completely. Sure it’s longer and more annoying, but it's better than you going dead silent and shutting him and everyone else out again.

-He does everything in his power and you’re doing so well… and then the VDC happens. 

-You’re given the title of manager and you’re forced to be around these people who terrify you. 

-Vil won’t budge on anything and sevens Ace wishes Rook would let him try out a little target practice with the (illegal) bow and arrows he’s got in his room.

-He keeps himself between you and Jamil at all costs. He won’t let Jamil bother you at all, not that he was trying in the first place.

-The real issue is Kalim, which sounds crazy, but it’s true.

-Kalim is so… forceful. A pretty strong word, but honestly the only one Ace can think to use.

-He’s really nice, really sweet, seriously such a good guy… but you’re still unsettled by him.

-There are several times during practices that Ace has to yell at him to just leave you alone.

-Sure, it gets him a pretty big scolding from Vil, but he couldn’t care less honestly. He doesn’t wanna risk you having a panic attack because Vil doesn’t wanna be a responsible leader.

-You confide in Ace a lot. How you really want to move past all this, but Crowley won’t provide you with any form of therapy, and you’re just not ready to forgive Jamil or Kalim for what happened.

-He won’t tell you this, but hearing you talk like this breaks his heart.

-You’re normally so strong, so brave, so confident… and now you’re absolutely broken.

-He’s proud of you for putting on a brave face to placate Vil, but he’s angry you have to.

-Surprisingly, though, you do begin to warm up to Kalim. Just a little. 

-It's only when Ace, Deuce, or Grim is around, but it's a really big step forward in his eyes.

-You’re getting back to where you used to be little by little.

-He still won’t give you or Jamil the chance to reconcile, but you honestly couldn’t be more grateful for that.

Deuce

-Deuce is incredibly different from Ace in how he handles everything.

-He’s a delinquent, sure, but he’s a Mama’s boy at heart. Therefore, he’s much more equipped to help you emotionally through all this than Ace.

-Where Ace is the harsh pushing force to keep you going, Deuce is the calm where you can rest and cry your heart out for as long as you need.

-As I mentioned, he makes sure you’re eating and drinking and at least speaking to someone.

-He asks Trey for recipes without leading on to what’s going on and asks Cater for advice on helping someone feel safe after a traumatic experience.

-It’s not subtle, but it helps.

-He handles making all your meals, even though he isn’t the best cook, he absolutely puts all his heart and soul into everything he makes.

-A good portion of his days are dedicated to cooking for you, and he gets pretty damn good at it by the time classes start up again!

-With Sam’s shop closed, he has to go into town to get the ingredients he needs, and then he has to spend hours preparing and serving the food.

-He watches you eat, encouraging you that everything is safe and that he made it all by himself by hand. 

-He doesn’t question why things ended up this way for you, he wonders how can I help?

-And he does help, a lot, more than just with food.

-Sometimes, late at night, he hears you crying alone in your room. He gets up from his own bed, quietly enters your room, and holds you and grim while you both tremble in fear.

-It makes him so mad. Mad that this happened to you. Mad that Jamil did this in the first place. Mad that he couldn’t help more than he already is. 

-Like Ace, he accompanies you to all your classes and makes sure to stay close to your side if any Scarabia students are around.

-He’ll go anywhere you need him to, and if you’re not comfortable being alone and he’s got plans, you’re invited to join him. No matter what anyone else thinks.

-Things get better little by little. You make strides in your ability to be independent again and you’re smiling and joking around like you used to. You even agreed to try out for the VDC with him and Ace… a big mistake.

-He didn’t expect to actually get in, let alone get in with Jamil and Kalim. If it were just that he could’ve been civil, but no, you had to be dragged in too… because that’s always how it works out.

-He has to hold himself from getting in Jamil’s face more than once because just him looking at you is enough to send you into a clear panic attack.

-Deuce does his best to comfort you between all of this, though. Being your shoulder to cry on and trying his best to be your protector… it's just hard. Hard to see you like that, and hard to keep his cool for your sake.

-It's worse with Kalim because both you and Deuce know he means well. You both know he wants to reconcile, but you’re not quite ready.

-Deuce helps the confrontation with the two feel a bit easier though. He acts as a mediator between you and Kalim, and eventually, he’s proud to say he helped you trust Kalim just a little bit.

-Jamil… both of you could use some work, but Deuce is more willing to hear you out on him than Ace is.

Grim

-Grim was there with you the whole time. He understands the fear you’re feeling deeper than anyone else.

-He could just tell something was wrong the second he saw your face. Despite all the celebrations, he was focused on making sure you were at least a little okay.

-He tried to talk to you, tried to make you feel okay, but the only comfort he could offer you was letting you hold him while you cried.

-He could still hear your cries, and they made him want to cry too. He almost did, but he was your guard cat — he had to be strong for you.

-Unlike Ace and Deuce, he never left your side. Not a second. He was there with you from the moment you were unwittingly kidnapped to the sleepless nights in your dorm to the horror of finding out you’d have to work closely with Jamil for the VDC.

-He made his distaste for him very known, sure to make a snarky comment at least once every time he saw him. 

-It was so bad, at one point, that Vil had to give him a stern talking to. He didn’t stop regardless.

-You are Grim’s best friend, the only family he has, and Jamil hurt you in unspeakable ways. He couldn’t just sit back and be okay with that.

-He’s really such a good guy.

Kalim

-Kalim means well. With his whole heart, he has the best intentions… just not the best execution.

-See, he didn’t notice initially that anything was really wrong the whole time.

-He didn’t suspect Jamil at all. In fact, he thought that you were really enjoying your stay in Scarabia, you seemed so happy and chatty up until Jamil flipped things on their head.

-Call him air-headed, but he was caught up in his own whirlwind of emotions at the time. You know, the whole betrayal of his supposed best friend took a toll on him too.

-It wasn’t until you were sobbing your throat raw that he realized something was really wrong.

-The look of sheer terror on your face when you made eye contact with him sent shivers up his spine.

-He knew that look. He’d worn that look on his own face too many times as a young child.

-Believe it or not, without Jamil’s intervention, he knew to keep his distance. He knew he had to give you time to adjust.

-Then a few days turned into weeks and weeks turned into a little over a month, and he had hardly seen you around campus.

-You are avoiding your normal route to class, and when he did see you he was also greeted by the harsh glares of your good friends.

-He understood if you’d never want to talk to him ever again, honestly. He couldn’t blame you. You were more headstrong than him, after all.

-Still, when the VDC came around… he was hopeful. Truly he was hoping that something would give.

-He would talk to you in hopes of showing you that he meant no harm, but Ace or Deuce or even Grim would shove their way between the two of you.

-Several times Jamil had to tell him to knock it off because “It’s not worth forcing.”

-Still, he wanted you to know he felt bad. He felt horrible.

-In a very un-Kalim-like move, he quietly asks you if you can speak with him. Alone. But in a crowded enough area that you wouldn’t feel threatened.

-He didn’t expect you to accept it, he wouldn’t have blamed you at all. But you said yes. 

-You showed up, with Grim by your side, which was fine. He earned some apologies too.

-He poured his heart out to you, apologizing for things that he couldn’t even control. In turn, he listened to you rant about how scared you were, how angry you were, how you wished you were any of these things.

-And after that, things improved. Slowly, but surely. You became more comfortable around him, and you spoke to him again.

-Sure, you wouldn’t be caught dead at one of Scarabia’s parties, but you considered him a friend. 

-That’s all he could ask for.

Jamil

-Jamil is the monster in your story. 

-He’s the evil guy who kidnapped, manipulated and lied to you.

-He’s the one who used his misplaced anger as an excuse to hurt others.

-He’s the boogyman who made you endure days of long and hard training, just because he could.

-Of course, he felt bad. What he did was unspeakable, but he was more concerned with how his reputation would last after the overblot.

-More concerned with it not getting out for the safety of his family.

-Even with you sobbing, he just thought you were being dramatic in all honesty. You have a reputation already, he knew you’d been through this whole thing before.

-It didn’t really strike him how badly it affected you.

-He didn’t notice how you switched paths, how you were never in the same area as him for long, and the glares of your friends never once phased him.

-Even Ace’s snarky comments during basketball didn’t bother him for a second.

It wasn’t until he accidentally bumped into you in the hallway, and he saw the look on your face that he realized.

-The terror in your eyes, the way you shrunk back as if he would strike you. It was the same way his parents acted around the Asim’s.

-If he were a more insane man, he might’ve found it liberating, but it wasn’t.

-He had become what he hated to you, he had done what he hated to you. 

-Jamil was not only your monster, but he was his own.

-He steers clear of you and keeps as much distance as possible for both your sakes.

-He couldn’t handle someone looking at him like that, and he was sure you couldn’t handle the sight of him after what he did.

-Still, this is NRC, and luck is never on anyone's side here.

-Both of you are forced into a position where you cannot escape the other, you have to learn to live with the awful pits in your stomachs.

-He keeps Kalim away until you both are on good terms, then he simply watches quietly.

-He won’t apologize, he won’t antagonize, he won’t speak unless spoken to.

-You two never truly recover your small lasting friendship, but you do make amends with each other.

-During the trip to the scalding sands, you get to meet Najma, whom he’s confided in about ‘accidentally upsetting a classmate’.

-You get to have a good talk with her, and it makes you really realize some things about Jamil.

-You realize he’s just as broken as you, just as tired as you, and that he feels the most immense amount of guilt for hurting you.

-You, being you, find it in your soul to forgive him.

-Nothing really changes between you. The guilt is still there, and the fear still shakes you to your core, but you both have closure.

-In a situation like this, closure is the best grace a person can ever have.

[st3f13ily]

Jealousy Tastes Like Blue

Not my pic

Summary: What's the perfect Revenge that affects him?? Well, what else would it be when Gojo doesn't like seeing you get too close to Geto? He swears it's not jealousy!

Teenage arc || 2006

Previous || Masterlist || Next (soon!)

You had finally had enough.

Gojo had been annoying you for weeks, stealing your food, teleporting you away mid-conversation, and resting his stupidly perfect face on your shoulder like you were his armrest. It didn’t matter what you were doing; he always had to be there, teasing you, pushing your buttons, driving you insane.

So when he flirted with someone else right in front of you, laughing like he didn’t have a care in the world, you decided it was time for payback.

And what better way to get under his skin than Geto Suguru?

You weren’t blind. You’d seen the way Gojo’s expression twitched whenever you got too close to his best friend. The way his smile never quite reached his eyes when Geto pulled you into the conversation, the way his grip tightened around whatever he was holding when you laughed a little too sweetly at something Geto said.

He swore it wasn’t jealousy.

Well, time to test that.

"Let me get this straight," Geto said, raising a brow at you. "You want to use me... to make Satoru jealous?"

You nodded. "Yes."

He blinked at you before shaking his head. "You do know you are playing fire, right?"

"I can handle it." You replied, crossing your arm.

He hummed tilting his head. "And what do I get out of this?"

You hesitated. "What... do you want?"

Geto leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to shiver down your spine. "A favour. Something of my choosing."

You narrow your eyes. "You are being suspicious."

"I'm always suspicious."

"Fine, but nothing crazy."

"No promises." He said. And just like that, the deal is sealed.

You wasted no time putting your plan into action.

It started subtly. Lingering touches, whispered conversations, and a little too much laughter at Geto’s dry humour. Gojo barely reacted at first, only giving a lazy glance in your direction before looking away.

But then you escalated.

You let Geto tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned in when he spoke, smiling up at him through your lashes. And when he slung an arm over your shoulders and pulled you against him, you knew you had won.

Because Gojo was seething.

He didn’t say anything, but you could feel his icy blue gaze burning into you from across the room. His usual carefree smile had stiffened, and his fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh.

Then, suddenly—he was gone.

You barely had a second to process it before—

"Alright, that's enough."

Everything blurred for a moment, when your vision cleared, you realised—

You were no longer with Geto.

Gojo teleported you away and now you were pinned against the nearest wall, trapped between his arms.

Your heart stuttered. "Gojo—"

His eyes were dangerous. A bright, intense blue that felt too close, too sharp. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

You forced a smirk, trying to ignore the way your pulse hammered in your throat. "Getting revenge."

He exhaled sharply, but there was nothing amused about it.

"You really thought that was a good idea?" he murmured, leaning in. His breath was warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming.

You swallowed. “Worked, didn’t it?”

Gojo’s lips curled into something unreadable—half amusement, half something far more dangerous.

"…You wanted my attention that bad, huh?"

His voice was low. Too low.

And suddenly, you weren’t sure who had won this game.

[trulyhblue]

Until We Moved Away

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Swedish! Reader

Warnings — fluff, coarse language, childhood friends w/ benefits

A/N — cried maybe three times in the past three hours because I had to rewrite this since it was deleted 🤭 Anyways, enjoy KCC content bc there definitely isn't enough on here!!

_______________________

When you met Kyra, you weren't quite sure what to think of her.

You were a Swedish international and had made your debut from a very young age. You were talented, well known within your country, and made it your life mission to make your family, country, and yourself proud.

You kept to yourself most of the time, choosing to focus on your career and paint a path for your future by working hard and improving on every aspect of your technique, gameplay, and overall performance. You had never played outside of Sweden before, and you were content with your decision. You were privileged enough to live close to home, within driving range, and know your way around. You weren't confused by the language, or troubled by anything in your day-to-day life. You were passionate about your job, you lived football, and you were determined to do anything in your power to win.

When you met Kyra, your mindset seemed to change.

Kyra was from Australia, and the Swedish language was foreign to her. When you first met, the girl complimented your sweater. In return, you told her the Hammarby jersey she was wearing suited her. She sent you a wide, warm smile, and you returned it.

From then on out, your relationship continued to be like that.

Kyra was very charismatic. She often held a lot of energy, and you were fortunate enough to witness it as you grew to know her more. The girl wouldn't know what to do with herself during the long bus and plane journeys, so she decided that talking your ear off was an appropriate solution.

The Australian wasn't very good at planning things, and you quickly realised that you were her guiding hand early on in knowing her. When Kyra didn't have a proper place to stay, she moved in with you permanently, only two weeks in. When Kyra was stuck with understanding your language, you made an effort to try and learn English, just so the familiarity of home would somewhat comfort her.

Kyra experienced homesickness from time to time, which you never really felt before, so you tried your hardest to make her feel at home by buying Australian snacks or making time to research some Australian movies.

When your schedules were empty, on the rare occasion that they were, you made the effort to show her around Sweden, hoping she’d find solace in a foreign country and find similarities between your home and hers.

When the opportunity arose, you managed to find time to get the two of you two plane tickets to Australia. You weren't quite sure how Kyra would react, but grateful was an understatement.

You found yourself falling for the girl in ways you never thought you would. Australia brought something out of the girl. You weren't sure what it was, but a certain aura enclosed her with an entity of warmth, solitude, and contentment. Kyra was in her element, and you felt bad not seeing how being away from home for so long could affect someone as it did to her.

When the World Cup rolled around, you were certain that you were completely and utterly in love with Kyra.

She had asked you on dates before, and you were blind to see them as simply hanging out. It wasn't until you both were due to fly to Australia, ready to prepare with your respected National Teams, that you realised how desperate you were to make that girl yours.

You weren't sure why you didn't just ask then and there, but you had kept the feeling to yourself in case it ruined the relationship you already had.

The two of you would text every night, talking about how it was both your first World Cup and the excitement surrounding it. While you both were relishing the adrenaline of each victory that passed, not realising that the two of you might verse each other.

You were there during the France versus Australia game. You were enamoured by the atmosphere of the crowd, and overwhelmed by the cheers, chants, and excitement around Women’s Football and the impact this tournament has had on the sport as a whole.

You were nervous when Australia lost to England, feeling the weight of your loss against Spain pulling taunt to your heart. You were disappointed in the outcome, not only because you weren't making it to the finals but because you felt like you had let your country down. It was no secret that your contract with Hammarby was ending soon, and no one but you felt as if your performance was costing a renewal.

Kyra had told you a million times how hard you were on yourself, and you always shook it off and told her that it was just passion. You still believed that. You were extremely passionate about everything regarding football. But if Kyra was right about one thing, there was always something more important.

It was clear to everyone in the stadium that both teams were still grieving the loss of the finals. You were exhausted from the games you had played this past month, and fatigue riddled you through the final minute of the Bronze Medal match. You hadn't spoken to Kyra since consoling her after her game against England, knowing that the ambiguity of tonight’s game might tamper with open wounds.

You weren't ready to face the girl after a month of not seeing her. You wanted to hold her, talk to her face-to-face, and tell her how proud you were of all that she has done for her team, her family, and her nation. That girl was all you cared and yearned for. Kyra was this beaming light that you could always confide in, and now that you were competing against her felt like a stab to the chest.

Despite this, you played your heart out. You made sure to keep your defence in the back line strong throughout the ninety minutes, hoping your forwards could break through Australia’s incredible midfield and defence. You were waiting anxiously for the final whistle to blow, relishing the final moments of such a brilliant tournament to be over, hoping the weight of the competition would fall off your chest the moment it was done.

Kyra played her heart out like she always did but with this new-found determination to prove herself. Every tackle, pass and shot was full of purpose and meaning. You watched her effortless talent shine through throughout the match, enamoured by her flawlessness in every aspect that she flaunted.

Your exhaustion sent you to your knees when the referee blew the full-time whistle. You were standing by yourself near the middle of the pitch, burying your face into your hands as they trembled. The adrenaline from the game, and every game you had played that past month, fizzled out from under you. The crowd was drowned out by your heaving breathing. Every muscle in your body ached. You wondered how your family back home was feeling. You wondered whether they were celebrating your third-place win.

Your home, your country, your nation; you hoped and prayed that they were proud of you and your team’s efforts, for you put everything you could into it. You so badly wanted to tell everyone watching that you tried your best.

Your thoughts were flooded into nothing when a soothing hand met the waistband of your shorts. You felt a familiar figure lean into you, the hand moving under your jersey and rubbing comforting circles across your back.

“Always beating me, aren't ‘ya, Älskling?” She muttered, her usual smug tone streaming through. There was no hesitancy in your movements as you sunk into her chest, hugging her chest and sighing as you took in the girl’s familiar scent.

“You played so well, Kyra.” You muttered, your tone much more sincere than hers. “You and the girls deserve the medal more than anyone else.”

“Oh, shush, you're just being modest,” Kyra replied, taking her spare hand and massaging your scalp. “Y’know what I deserve? Some love and affection from you, that's what.”

“What? Is the Kyra Cooney-Cross admitting that she missed me?” You scoffed, nuzzling your face into her neck. She was holding you up by now, keeping your body flush against her own as she rolled her eyes and huffed.

“Go back to being modest.”

You took her words as a sign to prop yourself up, smiling when you caught sight of the flush of her cheeks. “I missed you heaps, if that helps.”

“Oh yeah?” She answered, finding a loose strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear. You bit your lip, smiling down to where your bodies entangled.

“What's next?” You asked. It question was ambiguous, but the Australian in front of you seemed to have a grasp of understanding as to what you alluded to.

“Kiss me and find out.”

You didn't have a chance to react, feeling Kyra’s lips push up against your own. Her hand reached your cheek, moving her lips against yours, smirking when you started to reciprocate the action.

You must've stayed like that for a while, since you pulled apart feeling out of breath. The flush on both of your cheeks meant a beat of silence, pulling you into your own little bubble that shielded you away from the stadium full of people.

“Wherever you go, I go,” Kyra stated, letting your thumb run a path over the freckles that covered her nose.

You nodded and smiled, and she did too.

___________________

hammarbyfotball

hammarbyfotball — Girlfriends that move together, stay together 💚🤍

Wishing Y/N and Kyra all the best for their Arsenal journey in North London.

Congratulations Girls 🙌🏼

Comments:

user12 — HELP THEY REALLY EXPOSED THEIR RELATIONSHIP IN THE GOODBYE POST AHAHHAHA

^ wowwoso — they like ‘Not my problem now, BYE’ 😋

yourusername — Will miss you!! Thank you for this opportunity 💚

* liked by hammarbyfotball

Kyracooneyx — admin has no shame lol

^ yourusername — Kyra. Log. Off

^ user78 — HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

wosothings — after that absolute makeout sesh we all saw I think we all saw this coming 😭

^ kxxfan — I'm still in mourning.

^ user77 — no bc why did the camera pan to someone crying to these two shoving their tongues down each others throat I WAS SHOCKED.

y/nkcc — THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT THEY’RE LEAVING???????? i am grieving leave me alone.

matildasswed — admin saw that kiss and thought those two had hard launched.

_______________________

arsenalwfc

arsenalwfc — let's welcome two more gunners to North London!

Hammarby Legends Y/N L/N and Kyra Cooney-Cross sign with us after a masterclass World Cup ahead of the 23/24 season!

___________

Comments:

User22 — THERE IS NO WAY OMGGGG

Stephcatley — welcome girls!!! ❤️

Caitlinfoord — HAHAHA CALLED IT @ mackenziearnold

^ mackenziearnold — shut up.

kccfanx — Hammarby banked after selling these two🥲 just over 700k 💀

^ user90 — they've just lost two of their best players… I think they’ll need all the money they can get in order to replace them.

Bethmead — looking good in red girls 🥰🥰

user34 — both of them joining straight after the world cup kiss???? Coincidence?? I think not 🤭

^ wosox — they really said together forever

yourusername — Thank You ❤️

*liked by arsenalwfc

Hammarbyfotball — congradulations!!!

^ user88 — happy for them BUT IM IN MOURNING

^ user2 — I'm distraught.

kyracooneyx — yeah the Aussie tan @ yourusername

^ caitlinfoord — simp

^ alannakennedy — simp

^ mackenziearnold — simp

^ kyracooneyx — I was talking about mine but ok.

^ wosofan — HAHAHAHAHAHA

user2 — gonna miss them in Sweden

^ IK 😭😭😭

cooneyxfan — are they really soft launching their relationship with a transfer post????

^ kyracooneyx — yes lol.

^ cooneyxfan — AINT NO WAY

_______________

[palmettoshenanigans]

also ALSO-

I know the old "AFTG is badly written" jokes but hold the FUCK on for one goddamn second

I have been writing for almost 20 years. I got my college degree in English and the only reason my specialization wasn't creative writing is because I had bad time management skills and missed my chance to do my final creative writing workshop. I'm autistic and Storycrafting and Wordsmithing are my special interests. I understand writing pretty well.

AFTG opened my fucking eyes to a blind spot of the utter craftsmanship of writing sticky characters that infect you with brain worms, and here it is:

The Conflict of Material and Form

AKA the Character Creation version of Nature versus Nurture

"This isn't who I truly am. This is who I've had to become, what I've had to fashion myself into to survive. The original me is buried in there somewhere, if only you knew how to look. If only you knew to look beyond the mask."

Easily exemplified with our fave lil guys-

Neil Abram Josten:

Material: smartass with a smart mouth, attitude problem, cares about people deeply, sharp tongue to cut a bitch with, kinda feral, a lil unhinged, oblivious idiot

Form: quiet and hidden, liar liar pants of fire, run rabbit run, docile and tame, hyper-vigilant and hyper-observant

Andrew Joseph Minyard:

Material: caring, protective, strong sense of justice, gentle even, cares deeply, give me sugar or give me death, yearning

Form: cold, apathetic, ruthless and unforgiving, allow me to introduce you to my knife, regret? don't know her, i want nothing nothing nothing

Why am I using 'material and form' instead of 'nature and nurture'? Because I am a subscriber to "Characters are not meant to be real people; they are mirages of real people meant to encapsulate a function or idea that serves the story". But use whatever terms click with your noggin.

This isn't about 'want vs need'. This isn't about 'lie believed and truth learned'. This is about Presentation and Basic Action - how would this character react here? Which part are they reacting from?

With Material vs. Form, one isn't the 'true' version and the other the 'false' version of the character. They are both true and real in their own right. The Secret Sauce is that the Material and the Form fight 1v1! And regardless of which part wins, there will be consequences and rewards; so which rewards do we want and which consequences are we willing to suffer? And this fight happens beat by beat, scene by scene, plot point by plot point.

At one point in TFC Neil laments his inability to shut his fucking mouth because his Form of 'don't stand out dipshit' and his Material of 'initiate smartass.exe' are disagreeing with how to respond to his circumstances! It's that fucking meme "My healed and unhealed versions of myself deciding who is going to handle this situation" but as Storycraft!

Now, I don't think this is a new idea by any means. But sometimes to make the essence of an idea truly stick, it must be presented in multiple different ways until one triggers a "Eureka! By Jove! Aha!", and this was the way that truly made this concept stick for me. And why did it stick? Because AFTG is a labor of deep love and passion for Characters and all their complexity and inner machinations, and that depth of devotion had to manifest as some good ass writing somehow my homies in christ.

I have a collection of my favorite Storycrafting Wisdoms and one of them is effectively:

"Put Compelling Characters into a Compelling Situation and see what happens."

And Nora does Compelling Characters beautifully

[littledemondani]

Are you, by any chance, still accepting fuckboy!Eddie thoughts.....because I got one and it's driving me insane

fuckboy!Eddie's jaw does THAT hot thing when he gets jealous and possessive. You know like the clenching thing??? Good god

It's his not-so-subtle way of trying to show that he doesn't care BUT HE OBVIOUSLY DOES

Anyway I'm so down bad for him oh my god

ohhhh my goooddd!

warnings: 18+, mentions of smoking weed, petting, jealousy, fem!reader, fuckboy!eddie, alcohol use

he always reacts so nonchalant at the mention of you being with other people. and for the most part, he is. you’re both single and not looking for a serious relationship.

the first time he sees it happen, though, he feels blind rage.

he had been enjoying himself at steve’s birthday party. ever since he moved out of hawkins, he didn’t get to see all of his friends every day the way he used to. he decided to bring you with him. show you what his life was like before indianapolis.

you and steve hit it off right away. eddie isn’t surprised, though. you’re extremely easy to get along with and attract people like a magnet. he was actually glad that you were getting along so well with his friends. you fit right in as if you’d always been there.

eddie watched you get closer and closer to steve as the night went on. what started out as innocent interactions turned into you sitting in steve’s lap out by the pool with his tongue down your throat.

his heart beats faster, brows pinch together, his breathing picks up, his jaw and teeth clench. he crushes the now empty PBR can as he stares at the two of you from the back doorway.

jonathan, who had asked eddie if he wanted to head outside to smoke a joint, is confused by eddie stopping in his tracks so suddenly. he follows eddie’s gaze and it all clicks for him.

“didn’t know you were into her like that,” he says as he takes the lighter out of his pocket.

“what’re you talking about?” eddie asks in confusion.

“you like her, dude,” jonathan states as if it’s the most obvious thing.

“no. i don’t. i mean…not like that,” eddie explains. “she’s a cool girl and all, but, i don’t see her that way.”

jonathan chuckles and shakes his head. “yeah, man, whatever you say.”

eddie scoffs and gently rolls his eyes as he turns his gaze back to you and steve. you’re not aware of anyone else being around, entirely in your own little bubble with steve’s hand underneath your shirt and you palming at his hardening cock.

he swallows thickly before tearing himself away to join jonathan. he needs to get high and not think about you touching and kissing steve the way you touch and kiss him.

[daenysx]

hello can i ask for another aemond hurt comfort fic (if ure still writing for him, if not thank u anyway <3) make it hurt pls thank you 😞

p.s: i absolutely sobbed reading that drabble of him getting snappy at reader bcs they wanted to go out while it's sunny + also why i went back on ur blog and coincidentally saw ur requests open lol

i don't think i'll ever stop writing for aemond, i love him too much ♡ thank you for your request, lovely, i hope you like this!

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

aemond isn't used to have someone taking care of him, not when he's like this.

his mother was doing the best she can when he was younger; holding his hand when he had an appointment with his doctor, sleeping next to him and rubbing his back when he couldn't get any rest, kissing his forehead and telling him how brave he's been. as he grew older he stopped asking for help, she had to have her own life. he did anything he can to convince her that he's fully capable of taking care of himself now. "thank you, mom, i'm fine."

alicent put her children before her every time, sacrificing her youth just to make sure they are well. aemond felt guilty when he realized how little his mother cares about her own life, only to take care of her half blind son. it pains him, still, but he's a grown man now. he'll be okay when she's out of town with her newly wedded husband.

he lies in bed for hours, waits for the pain in his eye disappear. the room is dark, it's silent in a disturbing way. aemond curses under his breath when a sudden pain flashes in his head, he might prefer dying over this.

no, he can't cry. it'll only make the pain worse. does he deserve to live his young days like that? laying in bed like a sick man, waiting for help but being too prideful to ask for it, spending hours only to be able to breathe without suffering. he's mad these days, always angry and tense. vengeful for something that happened years ago, tearing up for his wound that will never be okay.

the door creaks open slowly. you close it back to let the darkness stay still. quiet steps, almost hesitant as if he'll tell you to leave. you put on a brave face as you approach him with a cool glass of water in your hand.

"aemond?" you whisper. you can't see his face clearly, he doesn't react as you put the glass on his nightstand.

"i'm okay." he says. dishonesty drips down his voice.

"can i help you?" you whisper again. it's the first time in your new relationship that he's been so bad. you don't know what to do.

"i'm used to it." he replies. "you can leave if you have somewhere else to be, i don't think i can leave the bed for the rest of the day."

your heart breaks. does he think you'll leave him like this? he might prefer suffering silently but you won't let him. he seems like he doesn't even get the point of having a relationship. he treats you like you aren't his girlfriend, like you are just another person in the room. it makes you wanna curl up in bed and cry, you know you don't deserve this.

he's still in pain so you can't be mad at him. it'll only make things worse. "i can leave- if you want to be alone. i'd rather stay with you, though."

you can't see his face but you can feel he tries to decide. you like aemond too much and you think he likes you too. you know he does. it definitely has to do something with his past. you try to take a silent breath, completely still to not disturb him.

aemond doesn't even know what to say, he'd kill to have someone by his side. to have you. he selfishly wants to keep you even when he feels like he shouldn't. you deserve someone better. you deserve a man who doesn't have to stay in complete darkness because of his past. you are shining everywhere you go but aemond is dark, there's no spark in him. he likes you too much to let you go, his inner turmoil does him nothing good.

"stay with me." he says finally. "please."

"can i sit?"

"mm-hmm."

you sit on bed carefully. you treat him like he's someone delicate, like he deserves something good. aemond isn't sure how to deal with your kindness, he still hasn't found a way. he likes it too much, though. he likes everything about you.

you hold his hand gently. his fingers are cold, you rub his knuckles with a soft thumb. he lets out a breath he doesn't know he's been holding when you press on a tight spot, right where his thumb meets his pointer finger. it feels nice. you keep rubbing his hand until you hear a protest.

"s nice." he says quietly.

"my mom used to do this when i got headaches. i know yours is different but-"

"s really nice." he says again. "thank you."

you take his other hand, treating with same kindness. he holds a lot of tension in his body, he doesn't even know how much. a massage to his hands is a small thing to help him relax but you want him to know you're with him.

"do you want to put your head on my leg?" you ask. "maybe i can rub your temples a bit."

you are not afraid of his rejection, willing to do anything that might help him. to your surprise, he sits on bed, waits for you to get comfier. you place yourself properly, he puts his head on your leg just the way you want and you start massaging his head.

"i like your hair so much." you whisper. "so soft."

"i like yours better." he replies, whispering. "but thank you."

you press your fingers to his temples slowly, he lets out another shaky breath. "i'm not gonna hurt you, i promise. you'll feel better in a minute."

he nods slightly, feeling of your warm fingers on his skin makes him somewhat excited. he is distracted with your quiet words and kind fingers, for a moment he forgets about the dull pain in his head.

you keep rubbing his temples until your fingers go numb. you stroke his hair then, silky platinum blonde strands flow in your hands. you play with his hair, braid a little piece of it. he truly is distracted at this point, too grateful to say something.

"i think i'll fall asleep." he can say.

"that's okay." you tell him. "i'll be here when you wake up."

somehow he knows you'll be here with him until the end. he can feel how his emotions for you fill his heart and his mind until they are both full of you, only you and no one else. it's a nice feeling, having someone by his side. being someone's choice, not responsibility.

[dragqueenstarscream]

going to be honest if soundwave IS 'the eyes and ears of the decepticons' hes either going blind or he needs to be fired. mutiny talk w knockout and starscream aside, there's like 4-5 different instances of autobots AND rouge decepticons just waltzing onto the nemesis and it seemingly not triggering any security measure. hell, in the armada episode bulkhead doesnt even end up on the nemesis on PURPOSE, its bc of a massive oversight with an automated energon gathering system (also the only time we see energon gathered via automation and with no vehicons in tfp, but i digress...) and hes then able to take advantage of the situation to blow up the main power chamber! to say nothing of the 5 starscreams also getting on the ship the exact same episode. honestly the nemesis is just a security nightmare in general, both arcee and ratchet (and i think the humans?) are able to get in and log onto their computers with no issue like theres 0 passwords and they can just get right into their computer network so if soundwave is in charge like people say he is hes not doing much to actually lock that down

and tbh, i feel like soundwave's loyalty is massively overblown by the fandom. when knockout and starscream petition him to take megatron off lifesupport his reaction definitely doesnt read like he particularly cares either way bc he doesnt move to stop them at all, and in fact the only thing he DOES react over is the cortical patch that got plugged into megatron-but even then, he doesnt move to protect megatron from the autobots who infiltrated the nemesis and hijacked their leader's mind, he leaves that entirely up to starscream! the guy who 5 minutes ago was arguing the case to have megatron put down! i genuinely feel like based off his behavior that if the autobots hadnt been there that day he probably WOULD have let them pull the plug

its not like i think hes particularly loyal to someone else like starscream either, but he only really snitches to megatron about him once or twice and most of megatron's grievances against things starscream does are what he himself remembers bc the dark energon gives him plot recall powers, not things soundwave brought to his attention. he honestly seemed to dislike airachnid more if only bc he actually reacts to her attempts at usurpation (and even is in part responsible for megatron deciding to try to off her)

my pet theory (other than that the writers didnt know how to handle him) is that hes super over the war in general bc how else do you explain him making a beeline for the electrified consoles in the episode where trypticon woke up 2 minutes after the decepticon high command watched a vehcion get knocked out doing that exact same thing?

so i know that all of the security breaches and soundwave's general nonchalance about them could be excused by shit writing, but that's boring and lame, so i'm gonna throw in my own two theories.

1.) soundwave actually still is that loyal to megatron, and he lets this shit slide on purpose because he loves watching megatron beat the hell out of intruders. it's entertaining for him.

2.) he stopped caring about the intruders a while ago, either because he knows that he still has the upper hand and doesn't feel the need to attack or because he's so done with the war that he just wants to keep to himself.

either of these would be more interesting than chalking it up to bad writing, even though tfp does have its flaws.

[anonyky]

Divine Error

*NOTES*

This is certified cringe, and I'm just realizing this now. I don't know what 16-year-old me was thinking, but it's too late to turn back now. No proofreading, we're going in raw. I'm still learning how to post on Tumblr, also I'm quitting fashion school.

*CHAPTER 2 : Marked as a Pretender*

"Wait a minute-"

"You fake! How dare you try to impersonate me?!"

Before you could even defend yourself, all the knights, including the Acting Grand Master herself, were after you.

This is what your bad feeling was trying to tell you, warning you of what's going to happen, and you immediately regret not trusting your instinct. Fortunately, your body reacts to the situation much faster than your mind, and you start running for the exit.

Fortunately, you were still near the entrance, you didn’t dare to look back as you quickly pushed the people out of your way and sprinted out of the Cathedral. But it didn’t take them long to be on your tail again.

Somehow, you’re lucky enough to manage to get out of the city with a few grazes, but it didn’t seem like they were going to give up anytime soon, as they continue to chase you.

You barely managed to dodge the arrows before you suddenly slipped and fell into a hole. Instantly taking advantage of the condition, you curled yourself into a ball, trying to make yourself less visible to them. As you heard them coming, you prayed to any god out there, hoping they wouldn’t find you.

Fortunately, your prayers were answered, and you heard them run past your hiding spot, unaware of your presence there.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart. You tried looking for a wound on your arm that was grazed by the arrows earlier, but to your surprise, there was no wound mark anywhere. Although your sleeve had a slight tear, there was no sign of bleeding anywhere. Which you find odd, but you quickly brush it aside for now, trying to focus on getting out without being seen by them.

After some attempt, you finally managed to climb out of the hole and quietly scan the area. Just a few blocks from here, there were a few hilichurl camps and a domain in the opposite direction.

“There’s no point in me getting isekai’d here if I’m the imposter…”

You tried to make up a plan as fast as you could. Walking around while you’re wanted in broad daylight will be a problem, but sitting in that hole all day was definitely not an option for you.

After giving some thought, you decided to go to the neighbouring region, Liyue. Getting to Inazuma from Mondstadt would be difficult, especially when you don’t have a boat.

Getting to the border wasn’t an easy task. Everywhere you go, there are knights all over the place. But luckily for you, you’ve been playing Genshin for years now, so it was easy for you to tell their next move and avoid their blind spots.

After a lot of hiding and almost getting caught because you’re smart enough to try that sneaky roll move. But you successfully passed all the guards and made it out of Mondstadt ground.

There weren’t a lot of people near Stone Gate, but just to be safe, you kept hiding in the shadows, trying to keep a low profile, and you tried to come up with another plan.

You wander halfway to Dihua Marsh, and your stomach decides to give you another thing to worry about. Your stomach growled as if it hadn’t been fed for days. The last time you ate was when you were grinding on Genshin before falling asleep, and that was hours ago.

Seeing there were no possibilities of the knights looking for you in Liyue, you decided to risk it and look around for something to eat.

You were sure there was supposed to be some sunsettia nearby, but oddly enough, there was none.

“I’m so hungry… What else can I eat here?”

Right when you were contemplating eating a slime, you stumbled upon a hilichurl camp ahead of you. Remembering that some camps have some fruits, you carefully approach the camp. If you had elemental vision, you could probably take out the hilichurls easily. But sadly, you have no powers or combat skills.

But the thought of the hilichurls might attack you still linger in your mind. In the story, the mobs wouldn’t attack the Creator. But you were convinced you were the impostor in this story.

Your stomach suddenly twists in pain from being starved too long. Being aware that there was nothing else around you, you continued to make your way to the back of their camp.

You observed them for a moment, trying to understand their body language and pattern. Some were dancing, and some were sleeping. It was the perfect opportunity for you to raid their stuff.

Just as you were about to make your move, you unexpectedly feel a presence behind you. Fearing what you thought it was, you slowly turn around, and you somehow feel your soul leave your body.

Behind you was a hilichurl, just staring at you and not doing anything, which made you even more anxious, and you mentally prepared yourself to get rocks thrown at you.

But it didn’t move at all, it was just staring at you, as if waiting for you to do something.

At this moment, you regretted not paying attention to that Hilichurl guidebook.

You slowly raise your hand and wave at it as if you’re greeting it. A few seconds later, the hilichurl copied your move, bringing its hand up and waving at you back. And this left you speechless. Did you just discover a way to communicate with the hilichurls without talking?

Then an idea suddenly pops up, and you put your hand on your stomach, as if trying to say that you were looking for some food.

But to your dismay, the hilichurl just left.

You let out a sigh. Of course, the hilichurls couldn’t just understand your based on just movements. Just as you was about to give up, the hilichurl returned with a bunch of fruits in its hands.

In an instant, you thank the hilichurl and take one of the apples from it, savouring its sweet taste.

After parting ways with the hilichurl, you blindly continue your journey.

Even though you were currently being hunted down, you couldn’t help but enjoy the beautiful scenery. You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of the midday sun settle on your skin. For a moment, you let go of everything. No footsteps behind you, no weight on your shoulders. Just the soft rustle of grass in the breeze, the distant chirping of birds, and the quiet stillness of a world at peace.

All of a sudden, you hit your head hard into a pole. Stumbling back in pain, you rubbed your head where the impact was. You’re sure that it was going to leave a bump.

But as you look up, you notice your surroundings and find yourself standing in front of a familiar-looking inn.

“This could be the best or worst place to be at right now.”

You decided to approach the place, half expecting to get chased out again. But to your surprise, people were happily greeting you. Just when you thought the knights had already informed the whole Teyvat about you. Liyue seems to be uninformed about the matter.

You awkwardly greet them back as you make your way up using the elevator.

Just like in the game, Soraya was still in her usual spot. But right after she sees your figure, she immediately bows down to you.

“Your Grace, what a surprise to see you here. I thought you were celebrating your arrival in Mondstadt.” You could practically hear the shakiness in her voice. You couldn’t help but wonder if she was scared of the Creator, or is the Creator that intimidating.

Whatever the case was, you are not someone people should be bowing to. You’re just another teenager who plays games in their room all day. Definitely not the right person to bow down to.

You grab her arm in an attempt to make her stand.

“I’m just stopping by.. Seeing how things are going here.”

The chances of her believing your obvious lie were slim. She’s a scholar, of course, she can detect any lie on the spot. But if she does know that you’re a fakie, you could always try and jump off the balcony.

Your characters barely took damage, you’ll be fine.

“You really mustn’t worry yourself over this, Your Grace. Things are going well here.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t know how you managed to get away with that, but you’re not complaining.

You quickly nodded and excused yourself, continuing your way to meet a certain boss lady.

Once you made your way up, Verr was just as shocked as everyone else upon seeing you.

“Your Grace, what brings you here?”

Honestly, you weren’t sure why you even came up here.

“Verr, did you uh, receive any letter or something…? You managed to mumble out.

You were sure that if the knights were on a hunt for an imposter, they would inform the other region as soon as possible.

“A letter? No, I don’t think so.”

Well, at least that’s some good news for once.

‘I should probably go somewhere else before they realize-‘

Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt as a delicious aroma caught your attention. And your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Verr.

“Your Grace, perhaps I could offer you something to eat before you leave? The kitchen has already prepared some Jade Parcels and Almond Tofu.”

If the circumstances were different, you’d be happy to accept her offer. Trying out cuisines from different nations has always been a dream of yours ever since you started playing the game. Alas, right now was not the perfect time to do so.

“That’s kind of you to offer, Verr. But I have to leave soon.”

You politely decline her offer. But she kept insisting, saying ‘it would be an honor to have Their Grace dine at their inn’. 

Seeing how persistent she was, you gradually accepted her kind offer. Happy with your decision, she led you to one of the empty tables before leaving to get your meals.

While you were looking forward to a nice, delicious meal, the people of Mondstadt were facing your copy’s wrath.

[oops-all-concrete]

I was wondering if I could get headcanons for a younger(late teens-early twenties) tav who views the companions as more of older siblings/mentors, personally my tav is inspired off the tiefling kids in the emerald Grove because I thought it would be very cool if Mol a street kid became the savior of baldurs gate, absolutely adore your writing thank you so much if you decide to do this!

Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I went on an enexpected hiatus but I am back and have a few lists in the works, so keep an eye out for that!

But yeah, I LOVE this idea??? This is so cute and if you have pictures of your Tav, please share them, I NEED to know what they're like, they sound so cool and I love the idea behind them!

Anyway without further adieu;

Companions react to: Younger Tav who sees them as an older sibling/mentor!

No spoilers, just some lovely lil headcanons, enjoy♡

Lae'zel - It depends on (your) Tavs dynamic with her. She was taught to follow when there was a leader, and lead when there was none. If Tav is intent on following, she's strict, sharp and a little intimidating, but always looking out for Tav, ordering them to the back of the group and allowing them cool moments in fights too. "Finish them off, teethling" She says proudly. But if Tav takes a leader role, she's happy to follow without question, and will shape everyone else in line with tavs orders, once she trusts their judgement. A kind leader and devoted follower. That's what you get from Lae'zel.

Shadowheart - She could never explain why, but having a kind teifling friend who's quite like this Tav is so...familiar? It's nice in any case. She feels at ease and way off her guard around Tav and is grateful to them for it. Of course she feels bad hiding things, but has gotten pretty good at making sure Tav is distracted and having fun on the adventure. She's always sneaking them snacks, turning a blind eye to any pranks they play on the others and keeping them in arms range at all times. They make her feel young again.

Wyll - He's like a guardian angel sent from above. He's happy to teach, but not above learning from Tav too, seeing them as an equal, even if he's kind of the "big brother." He's perfect for stories, indulging in Tavs silly ideas, good or bad, and the man you want in a crisis. No matter how bad it gets, he's staying calm for Tav, witty even, to keep them distracted or focused. It's hard to not be relaxed around Wyll and it's ever so intentional. If Tav is happy, so is he, and he says as much all the time.

Karlach - A young tiefling troublemaker who's just trying to do their best? She absolutely adores them, seeing her young self in them at every turn. It's healing for her to take care of who is basically her younger self, and she takes a genuine pride in looking out for them. Keeping them safe. Teaching them not to make the same mistakes she did. She'll do anything to keep them safe even at her own detriment.

Gale - Gale always wanted to be a teacher, and seeing how passionate Tav is, he just has to teach them. He sees potential in everything they do and goes out of his way to ensure they harness their abilities to their fullest. He's happy to answer any and all questions, and will look for answers if he doesn't have them. He's never short on praise either, always telling them how proud he is and how wonderful it is to watch them become the person they are.

Astarion - He's the bully older brother you never realised you wanted, probably because you didn't and still don't. He's got a thousand mean nicknames and if Tav slips up, he never let's them forget it. Tav and him will bicker to the end of time, but when all is said and done, if someone so much as grazes Tavs skin- he will drain the life out of them as painful and slow as possible. He might laugh, but only when he knows Tav is actually okay, and if someone else laughs, he'll make them regret it. He'd never say it out loud, but having a sibling he can protect is very nice.

Bonus, the older folks!

Halsin - He immediately takes up the dad role. He's always wanted children of his own, once he finds the right person, but they make him.okay with just doing it alone. Bear rides, whittled trinkets, spell lessons, he's all for it. There's just about nothing Tav could possibly say to make him unhappy to hear from them. He's indulged in everything they say and prideful in everything they do. He gets into the habit of calling them fawn, fledgling, lamb, whatever Tav likes sticks.

Jaheira - She doesn't realise it, but she does go full mother mode, even in front of the Harpers. Tav has messy hair? She's fixing it immediately. She sees elbows on the table, Tav is getting the mom look. Tav has dirt on their face, she's licking her thumb to rub it out. It's so subconscious, but she can't help it. And by God's, if anyone talks ill of Tav to their face, she's ready to throw down. Even if it's just questioning.

Harper: "I don't get it, they're a kid, how are they going to-"

Jaheira: "If I hear one more word out of that idiot mouth, I'm going to sew it shut and have you clear out the barn of all the ox shit, so you have no choice but to smell it"

Minsc - He's just happy to be admired for what he is; a warrior! Lead by a miniature giant space hamster. He won't question most things Tav does, trusting their own kind of warrior style and knowing they're doing everything for righteous reason. He admires them at every turn, even if he has no idea what their deal is or how to explain it to other people. Boo knows. And thats all that matters.

[stormyphoenix]

Hello! ♡ Didn't expect 50+ likes to my WIP, I feel very grateful and that's why I've finally decided to post the whole thing. Couldn't come up with a better title or ending, but I'm quite proud of myself for whipping out a short story about a new fandom in a relatively short time 🤗 enjoy ♡

NSFW part starts under the "Keep reading" 💋

Inspired by this artwork (art originally by einruji)

After the war

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), sexual themes (oral sex), post war Levi Ackerman, F!Reader, established relationship

Surviving the war with you by his side was barely short of a miracle. The two of you, together with Mikasa, Jean, Connie and the others, were all in bad shape, and while Mikasa went away with Eren's head in her arms, you all stayed behind and accepted some help and shelter by other survivors.

Time went by strangely at first, the days blurring together as you and Levi slept the pain and the bone-deep tiredness away as much as you could, bundled up in the same little room with one nice bed and a luminous window, holding onto each other as if still unbelieving that you two made it out alive together, after loving each other for years with the danger of loss hanging heavy over your heads. Then you both began spending more time awake, reminiscing, saying words that had been buried for a while and getting reacquainted with your own bodies, now changed by the troubled times you lived.

Levi had been afraid that his newly healed scars on his face, his blind right eye and his two missing fingers would make him repulsing to you; you were unsure of yourself, too, because you had gained some new scars as well and the stress of what you had endured had brought out a white streak in your hair that made you look older and strange.

But all fears melted away as soon as you got skin to skin with each other, enjoying some quiet intimacy with no sexual urge; Levi almost sobbed in relief as he got to rest his head on your soft breasts again, while your deft fingers carded through his dark locks and lightly scratched the cropped, shorter hair near his neck, but he managed to rein the worst of his emotions, his skin covered in goosebumps under your caresses. You weren’t as good as him, though, because a few traitorous tears managed to run down your cheeks as his strong arms held you against his sculpted, scarred bare chest, then his warmth and his steady heartbeat lulled you into a state of quiet, sleepy bliss. It felt wonderful as always, as if you never experienced the Rumbling and never got injured at all and you were just basking in the afterglow of lovemaking.

One morning, while Levi was lost in thought, sat in a chair with an empty teacup now discarded on the table, you snuck up on him on one side; normally, he would have reacted really fast, maybe in a knee-jerk way, an old habit he had since childhood, but in reality he saw you coming. Your eyes met and his steel grey gaze softened instantly.

“Hey,” he said, gesturing for you to come closer, and you obeyed, carefully wrapping your arms around his neck. His legs were still in too bad shape for you to sit on his lap as you would have done any other time.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked, scrutinising him.

“Kinda shit as usual. Still bruised. Getting used to my lost fingers and eye,” he answered, slightly gruff but with absolutely no bite when it came to you.

“Want some help to apply the bruise balm?” you offered.

“Yeah, I’d be grateful.”

You retrieved the bruise balm from the small nightstand, then went back to Levi. He dutifully held the tin in his left hand while you picked up some balm and began spreading it with utmost care, knowing he was still hurting in most places. Some of his bruises had now faded to green and yellow, but the biggest ones still were a riot of blue and purple.

Levi let out a few sighs while you tended to his wounds, loving you for your feather-like, careful touch on his battered body. Once you were done with the upper part, you slid down on your knees to take care of the bruises that littered his legs; he had a particularly bad one around his mauled left knee that made you wonder if he would ever regain full use of that limb again, and that’s where you put most of your care.

“Done,” you announced, taking the jar from his hand and screwing it shut before putting it aside, but you didn’t move from your spot.

“Thank you,” he said. His eyes had grown heavy lidded, and his lips were slightly open, and you were getting ideas. He leaned towards you, one hand landing on your cheek, his thumb stroking it. “I love you. I don’t tell you often enough, and I intend to make up for it.”

You leaned into his touch, almost purring. “I love you, too,” you said, then looked at him with smouldering eyes. “Let me show you a glimpse of how much.”

Levi’s breath hitched and his cheeks flushed red, his legs spreading on their own and making space for you to crawl between them. He couldn’t avert his eyes from you while your hands ran from his ankles to his hips, fingers delving below the waistband of his briefs; you briefly gazed back at him, then focused on the bulge in front of you, breathing in his scent, before mouthing him through the cotton.

“Fucking tease,” Levi hissed, shivering.

“You love it,” you retorted, enjoying the sight of the wet spot where he had leaked, still teasing him through the fabric.

“I do, but that’s no excuse to torture- ah!”

You had drawn his underwear down quick enough to make his cock spring free, slapping your cheek in the motion, and you wasted no time in taking him between your lips, sucking him down to the hilt in one motion and tearing out a choked cry from him.

“Slow down, please,” Levi panted, his good hand sliding down on your head to thread his fingers in your hair. Not imposing, just guiding. You nodded with a hum, the vibrations around his cock making him shiver again, then established a good, slow rhythm. You looked up at Levi to see him staring at you intensely, eyes heavy with both lust and love, his chest going up and down in an uneven pattern.

“Good girl,” he moaned, knowing you liked to be called this way, and you answered with an uptake in the rhythm and a flat tongue against the underside of his cock that rubbed his sensitive spot under the head with each stroke. It caused Levi to arch his back in the chair, his bandaged hand pushing back hair strands from his sweaty forehead, eyes scrunched shut, cheeks red and lips open in bliss while he panted.

“Shit, I’m not going to last,” he groaned after a while, struggling not to thrust into your mouth at full force, then he whimpered as you let him go for a moment, a string of saliva connecting his cock and your slick lips.

“That’s my aim,” you growled, drunk off his lust. “I want you to come down my throat, captain.”

Levi whimpered again and moaned your name as you took him back into your mouth. This time, you built up a faster pace that made his body tense and he murmured a string of curses under his already laboured breath, holding your head with a tight grip. You gave his balls a light rub and it caused his hips to snap, and you hummed to let him know it was alright and kept the steady rub going.

“Fuck, ah- love, I’m- fuck I’m goin’ to c-”

Levi’s orgasm had him thrashing, emptying himself down your throat with a groan so erotic it made you pulse hard between your legs as you swallowed his warm load, and soon it gave way to overstimulation so he had to pull out before falling back into his chair, sated and breathing heavily, a sheen of sweat shining on his pectorals and in the hollow between his collarbones. You got up, your knees slightly protesting the time you spent down on them, cleaning a stray drop of seed from your chin before leaning in to kiss him; he held your face with both hands while kissing you back and tasting himself on your tongue, the slightly rough material of his bandages tickling your face.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you suggested after tucking him back in, and Levi nodded and let you help him get back on the soft mattress in just a few steps, limping a bit while holding onto you and then lying down with his full weight, but you moved on all fours to hover above him, with an idea on your mind.

Levi exhaled harshly when your lips first landed on his left cheek, where three subtle marks stood, borne by three shards of a thunderspear; then your mouth was replaced there by your hand and his eyes fell shut while your lips touched every inch of his long, stitched scar that went from chin to forehead, going through both his lips and right eyelid. You swore you saw his lower lip trembling lightly in the meanwhile, but didn’t say anything.

“You’re still ever so beautiful, Levi, my love,” you whispered, cradling his face between your hands like the precious jewel he is, pecking him on his temples and forehead and then along his side profile, and Levi soaked it all up like parched earth.

Levi being unusually loose, open and vulnerable while you worshipped his body was something so beautiful it hurt.

He sighed while you kissed the lithe column of his neck and tasted the remnants of his sweat, shuddering when you found his weak spot. A scar lay there on his right shoulder, and you traced it lightly with your fingertip to feel its texture; another one was across his sternum, and you kissed it from one end to the other, his heart beating a fast tattoo underneath. His pretty pink nipples were taut from all the shivers, and you just couldn’t ignore them, but Levi was still spent and likely on the cusp of overstimulation, so you grazed each of them with small, wet kisses and breathed warm air against them. Levi moaned softly, threading his left hand in your hair to push your head against his chest. You obliged by stopping there to feel the texture of his skin, his scar, his sparse chest hair with your lips first, then with your cheeks, while your hands roamed over his flat belly and his hips, cherishing the contact and being mindful of the places where he still hurt.

“Feels good to be taken care of by you,” Levi whispered, holding you tight.

“Well, it feels good to worship you, too,” you murmured back, suddenly feeling sleepy.

“We have all the time in the world to make up for what we’ve missed out, now.”