#it was fun and challenging in a way though

[penelopehere]

Dom HCs With Saja Boys

Jinu

Gets so much satisfaction from teasing you, watching the way you debate whether or not you should just give in

Would purposefully whisper things in your ear in public to get a reaction out of you, or casually say something inappropriate in front of other just to see a reaction

Definitely wants you to drag him off and/or act pissed at him

Loves it when you resist though, letting him manhandle you into place and hear your pleas or whines

Very into edging, loving the way you get frustrated and desperate

Leaving light touches over your body, going too slow, or stopping just before you climax

Will keep doing it until he sees tears, your hands grabbing onto him and begging for more

Relishes in the noises you make, finding it cute when you try to muffle them

Will pin your hands above your head and grab your jaw, warning you to stop trying to be quiet

Uses sensory deprivation as another way to tease you

Has you all tied up, your mouth taped shut and a blindfold over your eyes

Watches the way you whimper for him, or the way you moan from the toys attached to you as he plays with the setting

Also loves just ignoring you, having you rest against his chest- bound and gagged with his cock inside you- while he just watches a movie as you suffer

Very into marking, especially on your neck or thighs

Will just casually do it in public too, wanting to see the way your face turns red

Would also do it right before you cum, wanting to toe the line between pain and pleasure

Because of this he really enjoys punishments, especially spanking as he forces you to stay still and makes fun of the sounds you make

Uses teasing nicknames like good girl/boy, princess/prince, baby, darling etc when you’re getting edged

Would also slip in a few brats or naughty girl/boy if you try to resist

Baby

The most sadistic out of everyone in the group

Will lead you on and tease you- especially in public- purposefully, doing it until you get insanely pissed at him

But when you’re in private, he’d make you apologize for acting that way

Whether that be by overstimulating you, edging or spanking; in the end he’d make sure you had tears running down your face as you screamed out his name and came

Marking is a huge turn on for him, loving the way your skin turns red and purple from his touch

Particularly likes biting since it takes you by surprise, letting out a particularly cute moan or whimper

For the same reason, he enjoys spanking you

But he finds it a lot more interesting when you’re resisting during this; trying to get away and telling you to stop as you get wetter after every hit

Won’t hesitate to tie you up and gag you during this, even putting a few vibes inside you and watching the way your hole clenches as you yelp in pain

Has left you alone for a couple hours in this state, just watching the way you cum over and over again

Loves seeing how much you’re able to handle before gently cupping your face in his hands; lightly kissing your face and telling you how pretty you looked as you let out a strangled moan from the overstimulation

Really in punishments

Will make bets with you because of it, giving you the most random challenges and tricking you into losing

After that he’d most likely sit back and watch you get tortured from the stimulation, or put bruises all over your body

Has also had you cockwarm him as he plays video games, not acknowledging the fact that you wanted more

Is sometimes into public play, using a vibrator on you and controlling the settings from his phone

If not this, then he enjoys have sex with the risk of getting caught; his hand over your mouth as he thrusted into you relentlessly

Calls you cute nicknames no matter the situation, often using them in a mocking tone to make you more mad or to tease you

Romance

Very touchy and gentle, loving to use just his hands to make you cum

Would thrust his fingers in and out slowly, curling them when he reaches your sweet spot and loving the cute moans you make from it

Also savours the moments when he’s inside you; saying how good it feels when you clench around him

Loves maintaining eye contact during moments like this, wanting to see the way your face shifts when he hits the right spot and saying how pretty you looked during it

However, if he’s not doing this, he’d most likely be using blindfolds on you; having your back against his chest as you anticipated his touch, leaning into it and whimpering as he touched all the right spots

Enjoys pinning your wrists above your head, intertwining your fingers together since it brings you closer to him

Similarly he likes it when you wrap your arms around his body when things feel particularly intense; bringing you into a hug and burying your face against his neck

Lots of hickies all over your body, and he likes it when you do the same to him and leave your mark

Loves when you tense up under his touch and grip onto him even harder

Teases when he gets really into it, saying you shouldn’t be shy in front of him or he’d edge you for longer

Will do feather light touches until you ask for more, not being able to say no to you

During most sessions he’d probably overstimulate you, always wanting to see more of the faces you make and noises you make

Because of this he does a lot of quickies with you, sometimes in more risky and public places when he’s feeling particularly pent up

Praise is a huge thing for him; constantly complimenting you and calling you nicknames like love or baby, practically worshipping you

Abby

Manhandles you so much it’s insane

Leaves marks because of how hard he grips you, not fully realising how rough he’s being with you when he’s in the moment

Whatever room you guys are in is completely trashed afterwards; items shoved off every surface, the bed frame most likely broken in some way

You guys have done it in the most random places, with him getting turned on rather easily and wanting to deal with it as soon as possible

Public play is a frequent thing because of it, with you guys often sneaking off to his car, the bathrooms or some random closet if needed

Is into simple bondage, loving to use handcuffs or tying your wrists behind your back as he pounds into you

Especially when your arms are around his head so you can’t move away; the two of you making out until someone needs to come up for air

Wants to be inside you at all times, getting a million times harder when he feels you around him

Loves to see your expressions, calling you pretty and baby a lot during it

Also loves seeing you gag because of how deep he puts it inside you; a firm grip on your hair as he hits the back of your throat over and over again

Enjoys choking you as well when he’s really into it; seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head because of the lack of air as well as the small squeaks and strangled moans you let out

Sometimes uses gags on you, obsessed with the way your lips stretch around it and the ways it makes your moans sound different

Also very into spanking, mainly doing it when you guys are getting close

Enjoys the marks it leaves afterwards too, feeling a sense of pride from it

Often times wants you to cum at the same time, wanting to finish first otherwise since he gets turned on from the face and sounds you make when you climax

Mystery

Choking is probably one of his biggest kinks

This is partly because of the marks it leaves behind, loving the way your skin changes to such a pretty shade of purple

However it’s mainly because of the noises you make; the gasps and broken whimpers when he presses too tight

He also loves studying your expressions, particularly when you’re losing air and a faint blush creeps on your face as you get even wetter from it

However, even in other situations he memorises the small shifts in face as you guys have sex

Whether that be the way your eyebrows knit together, or how your tongue slightly pokes out when he hits a particularly good spot

Therefore he wants to be facing you most of the time, loving it when you straddle him

Very into complicated bondage like shibari, enjoying the patterns it makes on your skin and the ways it can contort your body

Also uses this to tease you, commenting on how helpless you looked as he ran his fingers over your sensitive spots

During this he’d often have a gag and/or toy just to torture you even further

Loves listening to the muffled moans you let out because of it, getting even harder from it

Will also run a vibe across your privates and edge you until you’re begging for more

He’s also into sensory deprivation for a similar reason; wanting to see you desperate under his touch and arching into it

Definitely has a small sadistic side, fueled by his curiosity to see how you react and the way he gets turned on by the way you beg

Also has a collar kink, using the leash to pull you closer or make you crawl towards him when he wants to hear you whimper

Enjoys cockwarming as he lightly touches you too, often times doing other things like drawing or video games during this

Likes marking you up, especially with biting and will sink his teeth into every part of your body

Especially on your neck and thighs when you’re getting close, your eyes widening and mouth parting when he does it

Compliments you a lot during it, calling you pretty or handsome

However he’s mainly into watching and touching

When he’s really into teasing you though, he’ll call you baby, good girl/boy, naughty girl/boy etc

[hexagon-club]

I don't want to attack all bisexuals here, because I know they have their own shit to deal with, because people (well, mostly men, but unfortunately some women too) view bisexuality as an inherent lack of boundaries in the same way that they view homosexuality as a challenge to be conquered. But there is a particular type of liberal bisexual that is, I think, unironically the most homophobic sort of person alive. To be fair, I'm not sure I'm even arguing with a bisexual here, a lot of tumblr's userbase is made of heterosexual virgins whose concept of sex is purely theoretical. So they end up with extremely bizarre takes about how they think sex and sexual attraction works.

The thing that pisses me off the most about this sort of progressive homophobia is the dishonest doublespeak of it all. It's so much harder to deal with than the more traditional homophobia you get from conservatives. Because you have to gradually unpack what they are saying and gradually define your terms in this incredibly tedious game where you have to gradually peel off the progressive veneer so you can expose the homophobia underneath.

There's also this thing where they love antagonising homosexuals and feminists completely unprovoked. And then acting like the victims when the groups they provoked fight back. It's all a game to them, they know that they can take their stupid pronoun badges off and stop "identifying as" whenever they want. But those of us whose oppression isn't caused by being part of an opt in identity can't do that. And they like to mock people who actually take things seriously because they think we're being stupid for not doing this just for the fun of it.

The whole thing reminds me of this Sartre quote:

He was specifically talking about Nazis here, though people of gender do the same thing. Which is ironic since they like calling people Nazis over the slightest thing. It's a sign of people who adopt relativistic/subjectivist philosophies. They can't defend their beliefs through logic, the way you would a more traditional belief system. Because their beliefs aren't based on actual physical reality. But they don't really care. It's about power, if you can win through disconcerting your enemy and burying them under more nonsense than they have the capacity to rebut, that's as much of a victory in their eyes as beating them through sound reason.

The concept that trans men are trying to “turn gay men straight” is so funny to me because I’ve made about four “straight” guys realize they’re into men

[rafasbride]

hi !! can i ask for watersports with rafie…. (luv your work btw ♡)

愛 ⋮ rafayel shows you his love for water .ᐟ

you should've known.

should've known that rafayel adores water. obviously.

but you never knew it'd be to this extent.

"what? can't hold it in anymore, ms. bodyguard?" his teasing remarks further fuels your scowl, an expression he finds satisfaction in as his index taps your exposed clit.

a yelp leaves you, biting on your lower lip as he laughs. "just let it go, darling." he tuts, his hand travelling up to where your bladder is located, ghosting.

"let m-me... pee... in—ah," your voice wavers, trying to steady your breath as he watches you form words after words, "bathroom, pl—ease..."

rafayel knows it's embarrassing for you, but it's something he has always jerked himself off way too many times. late nights when you're busy fighting wanderers and couldn't come to him studio, he'd wrap a calloused hand around his sensitive cock and think about how he'd love to have you piss on him. "fuck baby, stop being stubborn and just pee here."

his eyes would lower, finding how your hands are fisting the sheets of his bed. he knew you were holding onto that dignity to not let go.

you know him, he likes a challenge.

and when one present itself to him, he knows he will win.

"rafa!"

your scream was the absolute music to him ears. because as soon as you shook your head at him, the hand barely touching your bladder pushes down slowly to ignite a fire in you.

and then—

splash!

"oh fuck! yes, yes, yes, yes, yes," the artist would chant, pupils blown wide as he watches your warm liquid spray out of your peehole, the force so strong he can almost catch it on his mouth.

"s'embarassing! haaah, f—uck!" your hands immediately latched on his wrist where he's pressing you down to release all the pressure you're holding on.

additionally, you also found this quite hot. watching rafayel loose himself at the stream you're giving him. his mouth ajar as drools pools out and a few of your piss claims a spot on his face, which he doesn't seem to mind.

"fuuuck, so hot, baby," he smirks at you, going down your wet pussy to lick and lap at the remaining pee that's trickling down to your fluttering vagina, "need to clean you up." he smiles, before standing up and grabbing something on the bedside drawer.

"more, please?"

a goddamn water bottle.

all rights reserved, rafasbride 2025

Ი︵𐑼 % dividers from @/cafekitsune ! !

(from YUN. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ANON!! i had a fun time writing this though i would say it's rather shorter than i expected T^T hope you enjoyed this ♡)

[chevelleneech]

The extra icing on the cake, is that if Jimin hadn’t tagged JK, people would be claiming it’s someone else giggling even though we all know exactly what he sounds like.

On the other hand, if JK hadn’t giggled, those same people would claim Jimin tagged him for no reason and/or that the tag stood for “joking”.

Idk, it’s interesting to me to see the spots where people would have tried to belittle this moment. Even though it’s not a big deal, because it’s just a dance challenge for his friend’s song, but without “double evidence” of them being together, this fun little moment would’ve become a reason for them to flock to Jikook blogs and claim proof of them not hanging out even though they flew out together.

Instead, without any way to deny it, they are saying it’s “company content” and is the first time they hung out in three years. Three. Years, lmao! Enlistment doesn’t count, because they were forced to do that, even though no one forced them to use the buddy system. The delusions know no bounds, because if they can’t even accept them as friends who chose to enlist together, what hope is there of them believing literally anything else?

Everything is a lie to them, and I do not understand how that is even possible, lol. Yes, be wary of celebs selling you a marketable friendship, but it’s been over ten years now. It has been twelve years to be specific, of their fame, and thirteen of them being friends in general. No one is faking a THIRTEEN YEAR friendship. They need to get over it, seriously.

[jaimebluesq]

*cracks knuckles* I hope you don't mind me adding to the SangCheng agenda, as an avid participator in it :-p

What existing problems does the ship solve?

It gives JC a connection to Qinghe Nie, the only great sect he doesn't have a connection to in some way via his sister and nephew (Lanling Jin) and martial brother (Gusu Lan).

End of canon - it gives JC one of the few people left alive who knew him before he was sect leader. This is huge because his optics changed so much during the time skip for Yunmeng Jiang to be the sect you don't mess with. Most of the people who knew JC the boy are dead - but NHS is one of the few who still remembers him as Emperor's Smile and peanuts and *innocent*.

Post NMJ death - it gives NHS someone steady in his life who reminds him of his brother, and someone who knew *him* before he became the Headshaker.

Even though their methods of expressing it are very different, they both have strong senses of duty to their clan and family.

What new problems does the ship create?

Post-canon - not only did NHS' (alleged) machinations put Jin Ling in trouble, but NHS is (allegedly) responsible for WWX's return. The extent of which we don't know from canon as even WWX is trying to make links from limited knowledge, though fics have tons of fun exploring that. This will be a huge obstacle for them to overcome.

Timeskip/Post-canon #2 - As someone who knew NHS before he was the Headshaker, did JC ever suspect something was off? Like a moment of "you can't make a decision without crying over JGY or LXC, but I remember you catching birds and strategizing how to cheat on tests, don't you tell me you can't handle this". Not to mention being fellow sect leaders with someone who's seen you drunk off your ass and looking at porn XD

Because both have such strong ties to their families, it's hard to imagine them spending much time away from them - not impossible, but definitely a challenge.

Their personalities can clash as much as they can complement each other - duty bound and serious JC vs lackadaisical spoiled-rotten NHS.

Overprotective sects - depending on the author's take on the sects... Qinghe Nie has been participating in the spoiling of NHS alongside NMJ, so if you want to be with him, they need to like you. Similiarly, JC has risen his sect from the ashes and these disciples are *his* - and they have a reputation for not being ones you should mess with, particularly if you try to court their sect leader ;)

What in-law drama does the ship cause?

They each have a beloved older sibling who practically raised them (JYL & NMJ), whom they look up to, worship, and adore above all others - and against whom significant others might be consciously/unconsciously compared.

NMJ. Has spoiled his didi rotten, so if you want to court him, you'd better prove yourself damned worthy of it - or else you have to face him and Baxia.

WWX. (Pre-timeskip) What happens when your porn-sharing bestie gets together with your little martial brother? Do you give your bestie a shovel talk, or just be thankful someone you know and like is sharing your didi's time (and therefore less likely to get between you)?

JFM & YZY. Omfg, like JFM would probably not blink if he even notices, but can you imagine YZY's reaction to the idea of having NHS as a son-in-law?! (*coughs and hides my fic where she's the one trying to set them up*)

Nie family. In an AU where the 3 Nie parents live, JC has to face not one but *two* mothers-in-law - one of whom birthed the powerhouse NMJ, the other who birthed the mastermind NHS. Tremble, JC XD

call for propaganda

looking to advance from the golden core brainrot stage to the nascent soul brainrot stage - in other words, looking to get into more jiang cheng ships lol

everyone please respond with propaganda for your favorite jiang cheng ship

for maximal propaganda effectiveness please follow this format:

what existing problems does the ship solve?

what new problems does the ship create?

what in-law drama does the ship cause?

imo an ideal ship has content for all 3 questions

please and thank yew

[venusbyline]

HEADCANON: (Sexual) Gameplays with Targtowers boys and Velaryon boys

⚠️: Velaryon!reader, Targcest (uncles/niece & older brother/younger sister & twin brother/twin sister), smut, oral sex (male receiving), underage sex, implied/referenced orgy, age gap (older men/younger woman), Lucerys and reader are 16, Jacaerys and Daeron are 17, Aemond is 21, Aegon is 24, free use. modern AU.

❥ Aegon II masterlist • Aemond masterlist • Daeron masterlist

❥ Jacaerys masterlist • Lucerys masterlist

❥ HOTD masterlist • ASOIAF headcanons

One night, the whole group decided to play a stupid challenge. It was about spending the week trying to see who would do better playing and getting a blowjob at the same time — and you, of course, did not care at all about pleasing the boys, loving the feeling of being sexually used by your brothers and uncles, each one of them during a different day of the week.

Based on the outcome of rock, paper, scissors between them, Lucerys had been the one who got the Monday. The poor sixteen-year-old boy was too nervous the whole time and had barely been able to concentrate on their game, since that was the first blowjob he was getting in his entire life, and it was also given by his twin sister, the only girl he was in love with since he was a child — even though you thought that situation was unfair because he would be at a disadvantage, you had fun watching your sweet brother whimper and writhe with that thick cock inside your throat, until he came in less than five minutes.

"Sister, please. I-I can't..." Lucerys whimpered, his hands shaking and his character taking more damage than usual. He looked at you with those pretty hazel eyes and filled with tears of pleasure, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment when he heard Aegon laughing at him over the audio call. "S-Shut up, uncle, I just... O-Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

You giggled after Lucerys struggled to pull his cock out of your throat so you would not swallow all those white spurts, and what was supposed to be a cute attempt to keep his twin sister clean ended up just failing, your pretty face all sticky with his warm cum.

On Tuesday, it had been Aemond's turn. Much more controlled than Luke, your uncle just kept his jaw clenched most of that time, not even looking at you while you literally shoved every inch of his shaft into your throat. For a few minutes, you thought you were doing something wrong or that he was not even physically attracted to you the way Aegon had gossiped a few months ago — but that doubt ended when your uncle finally looked away from the computer screen for a few seconds.

"Mhmm, you're really hot, little niece," your uncle's humming words made you whimper in embarrassment around his cock, sending vibrations through his body.

"Hey! It's not fair... How are enjoying the blowjob and yet you're playing so well this round?" Lucerys exclaimed, being all frustrated when he almost hitting one of their own team's players.

The shrill laughter of the other boys softened the situation a little bit. "It's 'cause you're a fucking virgin and a whiny little baby, Luke," Daeron teased his nephew.

Daeron had to work twice as hard to have even half the self-control his older brother had. He had always been the second best player out of the five of them, and the fact that he already fucked you so many times did not help matters much, because you knew everything he liked. Every time you flicked your tongue over the tip of his cock, Daeron gripped the joystick so tightly it turned his knuckles white. Being left until Wednesday, right after Aemond, caused more despair than he could have imagined.

"H-Holy shit, babe, why are you taking it out on me?" Daeron gasped, growling in frustration afterwards as you focused the teasing on the prominent vein of his pink cock.

"Well, it's your fault," you muttered through swollen, red lips. "For flirting with that Lannister bitch from my chemistry class."

"How the hell did you–" the question was cut off by the sound of his game character dying from a stupid gunshot.

Jacaerys was not an excellent player as Daeron, much less as Aemond. However, his determination to give his best on that damn Thursday spoke louder than his daily lust for you. Well, almost... Because every time you started to flutter your eyelashes on purpose, he would distract himself from what he needed to do in the game, staring at you and admiring the sight of your bright eyes and flushed cheeks, as they always were when the two of you were having sex. He could not wait to have a chance to fuck you again soon, before the vacations were over.

"Feeling good, big brother?" your mocking purr caught Jacaerys off guard, almost needing to close his eyes so he would not see you rubbing and fingering your own pussy when you took his cock out of your mouth to breathe for a few seconds.

"Damn it, things like that looks so much easier in the porn," Jacaerys sighed between ragged breaths, trying to continue pressing the joystick buttons with precision, like he always did when he was playing with his little brother and his uncles — but more desperately now —. "You're such a brat, little sister..."

With Aegon, the situation had been more degrading and intense for you. Even though it was already Friday and his turn was the last one, he was not even a little bit worried about coming in the fifth place — or at least the fourth place, since Lucerys' performance in the game had been so bad that everyone was already sure that the youngest boy would come in last place —, his attention was all focused on his little niece. No matter how many nights he had fucked you, he was still completely addicted to it. The feeling of having your pretty mouth engulfed around his thick cock, always giving him the best deepthroat...

"Fuck, you little whore... You love being used by us, don't you? Being a free use doll for your brothers and uncles?" The gameplay was not even over yet, but he let go of the joystick anyway, his heavy hand grabbing you by the hair and starting to fuck your throat, chuckling while you choked, tears streaming from your wide eyes and spit running down your chin.

"That's enough, Aegon! Stop that shit right now, you asshole!" Jacaerys yelled furiously into the headset, so jealous and listening to his younger sister being used by his stupid uncle.

"I hope you're enjoying the sounds of your baby sister gagging on my fat cock, nephew," The hysterical taunt made Jacaerys huff angrily and shut off the computer.

As soon as the Saturday night arrived, no one was surprised by the official result of that silly challenge. Lucerys in fifth, Aegon in fourth, Jacaerys in third, Daeron in second and, of course, Aemond in first.

The agreement had been that the winner would fuck you while the others watched, a fair exchange but also kind of mean and teasing. Although the rules were clear and everyone had previously agreed on those consequences, no one in that Targaryen family knew how to deal well when they lost at something.

Then, by the end of the night, what was supposed to be a fuck based on voyeurism and exhibitionism ended up more like a messy orgy.

[miareen221b]

Wind breaker boys x tsundere!reader!!

Headcanons AN: this was harder than I thought since I usually write without a specific personality for reader in head and it's tsundere nonetheless which is a personality I'm not familiar with so I'm sorry if it came inaccurate or disappointing to some, anyhow, enjoy!!

Ft.(Sakura, Suo, Umemiya, Choji, Togame)

Sakura Haruka:

•Sakura might "accidentally" brush his hand against yours when walking side by side, quickly pulling away with a grunt. You pretend not to notice, but your hand tingles for the rest of the day

•During a quiet moment, Sakura will "toss" a specific brand of juice you like, muttering, "Saw it, figured I'd grab an extra" Later, you might "accidentally" leave a small, perfectly wrapped snack on his desk with a similar non-explanation

•your "staring contests" sometimes last a beat too long, eyes locked in a silent challenge that melts into something softer, something like shared understanding, before you or he break away with a huff and a muttered, "Stop looking at me like that!!"

•Sakura might compliment a small detail of your outfit with a gruff, "That doesn't look as bad as your usual!!" only for you to scoff, "Yours almost looks like you tried for once!!" Both of you secretly preen a little at the other's observation

•If you're clearly stressed or upset, Sakura will find a subtle way to help. He might suddenly start complaining loudly about something trivial, knowing the distraction might give you space. You, in turn, might silently place a favorite (though denied) drink near him after a particularly draining day

•you'll often find yourselves lingering at the same quite secret spot, drawn by the peaceful atmosphere and, unknowingly, each other's presence, your conversations are filled with playful jabs, but when your shoulders subtly brush, neither moved away

•A rare, genuine, and soft laugh from you can make Sakura's heart skip a beat, his ears turning red as he quickly looks away, calling you "annoying" (we all know he means cute!!) And if Sakura ever offers a truly gentle smile, you always feel your face flush, turning your head quickly while your own heart pounds

•When something unsettling happens (like a difficult social situation or an unfair accusation) Sakura is always quick to step in front of you, a protective glare on his face as he mutters, "Leave her alone for your own good!!" You'll protest loudly, but secretly lean into his presence, feeling surprisingly safe and protected

Suo Hayato:

•he LOVES it, honestly

•he finds it very cute and entertaining, he couldn't possibly ask for more

•of course he teases you for your tsundere reactions, what else did you think?

•"Oh, you're red! Is my little darling getting shy?" Sou says with a big smile, as you get flustered and can't speak well

•you try to act like you don't care, but a small twitch at your mouth when Sou says something nice is all he needs to know (He'll use it to tease you later)

•Sou has a game in his head called "Tsundere Reaction Bingo" he wants to get every square filled when you're on a date, A puff of air? Got it, A mean look? Double got it, A whispered "idiot"? Bingo!

•"You know, you're kind of cute when you're all grumpy!!" Sou whispers, getting close. The push and "S-shut up!" that always happen are like music to his ears

•he is really good at giving almost a compliment, just enough to make your ears turn pink before making a fun joke that makes you react strongly. The mess that follows is always worth it!!

•Sou will subtly move closer to you during a quiet moment, just to watch your cheeks faintly blush before you pretend to push him away. He knows it's a silent invitation

•When Sou whispers a sweet nothing, like "You really are beautiful, you know?" You mutter an "Idiot!" always followed by your hand finding his, a secret squeeze that means more than any spoken words

Umemiya Hajime:

•Umemiya loves to playfully mess with your hair, letting his fingers linger a moment too long. When you bat his hand away with a huff and a blush, he just grins wider, finding your flustered reaction truly adorable. (Seriously, he could watch you blush all day!!)

•He often catches your eye across a room, giving you a warm, knowing smile. When you quickly look away, a slight flush on your cheeks, he chuckles softly to himself, finding your shyness incredibly endearing!!

•Umemiya has a habit of gently teasing you about your intense focus during your shared activities or garden work. He'll whisper a comment just loud enough to make you jump and glare, secretly loving how your concentration breaks into cute indignation (yes, he thinks you're cute)

•He'll sometimes "borrow" a small item from your bag, just to make you huff and demand it back. When you finally snatch it with a disgruntled but not-really-angry expression, he finds your feigned annoyance utterly cute!! (Did I mention he thinks you're cute?)

•Umemiya loves to watch you try to hide a smile when he says something genuinely kind or makes a silly joke. You'll press your lips together tightly, but the slight crinkle at the corner of your eyes tells him everything, and he thinks it's the cutest thing. (You're not fooling anyone m'dear!!)

•He'll often offer you a share of his food or drink, even when he knows you'll protest. When you finally take it with a reluctant "Fine, but only a little!" he finds your careful acceptance incredibly sweet, knowing it's your way of saying thanks

•Umemiya occasionally "loses" a friendly game or competition to you, just to see your triumphant, yet still slightly reserved, smirk. He finds your attempts at being cool while secretly thrilled absolutely precious. (He totally let you win, Don't tell him I told you!!)

•If you're ever feeling down or quiet, Umemiya will subtly shift closer, maybe offer a comforting silence or a quiet, reassuring presence. When you eventually lean into his space, even just a little, he finds your quiet trust to be the most adorable thing of all!! (He thinks You're the cutest thing to ever breath, yes)

Choji Tomiyama:

•you often loudly say mean complaints about Choji, like how he eats or his messy hair. But deep down, you really like how focused he looks when he trains, or how happy he is when he eats!! And If anyone else talks badly about him, you're the first one to defend him!!

•Choji. Being Choji, always eats, So, you always brings more snacks than you need. You say they are "leftovers" or "too much for one person." Then, you give them to him, acting like it's a bother and saying, "Don't expect this every time!" But you secretly hope he enjoys them!!

•Even though you act tough, you worry a lot about him. If he's late or looks sad, you'll ask him many sharp questions, demanding to know what's wrong. You use a harsh voice to hide that you're worried and Choji understands this and finds it sweet!!

•Choji might ask you to go to a new noodle shop or a bike event. You'll agree, but you makes it very, very clear: "This is not a date, okay? I just happen to be free." Still, you spend extra time getting ready and secretly have a great time

•Choji is kind and notices little things you like (like your favorite drink) He will quietly leave it for you. This makes your face turn red, and you'll start talking quickly, trying to act annoyed but failing to hide that you're happy

•If anyone tries to bother you or say mean things, Choji, now stronger and wiser, will step in to help.you of course act like you didn't need his help, but deep inside, you're glad he's there

•It's very hard for you to say nice things directly, so If Choji does something impressive, you probably just make a sound of disapproval and say, "Took you long enough!" or "You're getting a little less useless!" But your eyes will show that you're impressed (he definitely makes remarks about you being not honest while giving you the most cutest smile ever!!)

•when you're feeling very frustrated or emotional, you might accidentally blurt out something sweet, like "You idiot, I actually... I actually care about you!" And would instantly regret it, turn very red, and try to take back your words. Choji would just smile, knowing what you really mean

Togame Jo:

•You're always complaining about how annoying Togame is, especially his constant need for attention. But if he ever sees you genuinely upset or distressed, he'll silently offer you his jacket or a warm drink, looking away awkwardly when you give him a small, grateful smile. He pretends it's nothing, but your quiet appreciation means a lot to him.

•You scoff at his goofy antics and pretend you don't care, but you secretly keep track of all his wins and impressive moves during gang fights. You'll never admit it, but you feel a little flutter in your chest whenever he does something particularly cool, and you might even mumble a "not bad" under your breath when no one's around

•If another girl so much as glances at Togame, you'll find yourself suddenly in his personal space, clinging to his arm or loudly declaring that he owes you something, just to make sure they know he's your nuisance to deal with. He might be oblivious at first, but he secretly enjoys your possessive streak

•You'll never directly compliment him, but your backhanded remarks often reveal your true feelings. "You weren't completely useless today, I guess," you'd grumble after he helps you with something, secretly meaning he was actually quite helpful and impressive( He's learned to read between your lines)

•He knows you won't accept grand romantic gestures, so he focuses on the small things. Leaving your favorite snack on your desk, remembering a tiny detail you mentioned in passing, or subtly walking you home even when you claim you don't need an escort, these quiet acts of care are his way of showing affection, and you begrudgingly appreciate them

• Someone talking smack about Togame? You're the first one to snap back, defending him fiercely with a bright red face, insisting it's because "he's annoying, but he's my annoying boyfriend!!" The other person might be confused, but Togame understands it's your unique way of showing you care deeply about him

•You try to keep your distance, but sometimes your hand will "accidentally" brush against his, or your shoulder will bump his in a crowd. He'll usually just grin, but inside, he cherishes those fleeting physical contacts, knowing they mean you're letting your guard down, even just for a second

•Despite all your complaints, when you imagine your future, a certain loud, cheerful, and incredibly strong guy always seems to be playfully annoying you in it. You'd never say it out loud, but the thought of a life without Togame's presence secretly makes you a little sad, and you realize you wouldn't have it any other way

AN: hey there!! So this was... something..? It was so hard to write these headcanons, especially since I've never ever in my whole "fanfic writer" career ever wrote for a tsundere so I didn't quite understand the personality, so I had some help from a couple of my friends, Sakura's one was especially hard, because it's literally a tsundere x tsundere 😅Togame and choji were hard too!! (I'm still not familiar with their characters and personalities since I haven't read the manga yet)So my friends offered me a couple of ideas and one friend even did the proofreading!! So if my writing style seems odd, that's her touch!! My friend don't have Tumblr so I can't mention them, but I'm going to just say their names!! (Miyako, Hannah and Laura)Laura did the proofreading, and miyako helped me understanding the tsundere personality a bit more And Miyako and Hannah both helped with some ideas, please give them a round of applause!! Thank you for reading!!

[odearly]

ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

fucking friends and strangers, well, you love me

song 1: absence makes the heart grow by daffo

rafe x maybank!reader

summary : you left the outerbanks as soon as you turned 18, leaving behind your family and friends to find yourself and escape your abusive father. You come back 4 years later, surprising everyone... including rafe cameron.

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══════════════════════

You pulled up to 'poguelandia' after driving your shitty chevy all the way from charleston, south carolina to the outerbanks. One ferry ride later and you're standing in the world you used to fit into, watching your past all run back to you.

All the hurt, all the suffering you faced on this island is running at you at the speed of your brother. You don't know how to react because you can't breathe, can't think, can't cry because there nothing to cry about.

You stood there frozen for a second before you feel your brother tackle you to the ground in a hug, knocking you out of your thoughts. "Fuck J! What the hell!" You pushed him off of you, standing up and brushing the dirt off your clothes.

He got up pretty quickly though, the rest of the pogues finding their way to the entrance of the Chateau now. Kie ran to you at light speed the moment she saw you-- you were always her favorite babysitter. She pulled you into a kinder but still squeezed hug. "Oh my god!! You're actually here! I thought JJ was just bluffing."

"Dude I wouldn't lie about that." He groaned, and walked back over to Pope, John B and Sarah. "Who's this?" Sarah asked and you saw her. Sarah Cameron.. why was she hanging out with pogues?

JJ spoke up, "Just my runaway sister, wont even give me a hug." You scoffed and walked over to him, giving him a proper hug. "Yeah well, maybe don't attack me next time."

It was nice to see your brother again, it really was. All of these memories, though, were making you anxious, angry even. You were right back where you started on the shit list of the outerbanks.

John B spoke up finally, his hand around Sarah's shoulder. "Wrap up the family reunion." You turned around to face John B and Sarah.

"John B pulled himself a kook. Sarah Cameron at that." You looked her over, wondering why the hell a rich girl like her would slum it with the pogues.

Sarah scrunches her face at that. "I don't care about that kook stuff." You roll your eyes and glare at John B, "I don't know if I can trust you, Sarah." You said very bluntly, dragging out her name like you were challenging her.

You hate the Cameron family. Rafe especially, he was in your graduating class. He was constantly teasing you for smelling bad because you didn't have hot water some weeks, making fun of you for being poor and living in a trailer, you never wanted to see him again.

"C'mon yn, me and her, were serious." John B said, looking slightly irritated. You look at Sarah again, inquisitively, looking for any chance she may be using John B. For what? You don't know but you couldn't trust a kook.

"You talk to Rafe?" You asked, trying to understand exactly whose side she's on. She scoffed, crossing her arms as John B pulled her a little closer. "As little as humanly possible."

You nodded, a simple agreement of peace. If you don't tell her anything then she can't break your trust. JJ smiled at that and looked at all of the pogues, "Alright then lets go fucking party!"

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sarah's story & messages w rafe

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a/n: hi.. so i hope you guys like this i've always wanted to do a smau but ive never actually achieved it. this story will be smau and irl.

[lazylittledragon]

ok so

disclaimer it has been a long ass time since i read/watched any of suzanne collins' masterpieces but i'm doing my best with what i remember

i was thinking about the response to the hunger games when it first came out and how the irony of it is sort of old news at this point and now i can't stop thinking about how the exact same thing happened with squid game only worse in many ways.

context: the hunger games effect is the irony that one of the main themes in the book is everyone watching and ignoring the atrocities and societal failures at the root of it all in favour of swooning at a love triangle. and then the movies came out and everyone watching was ignoring the atrocities and societal failures at the root of it all in favour of swooning at a love triangle.

(for the most part, and way back when it came out. we've come a long way since then which is nice)

and then squid game released and the exact same thing happened but infinitely worse than just fandom discourse and somehow even MORE dystopian.

squid game at its core is about class division and how normal people are willing to do terrible things if it means escaping poverty. how the rich prey on the poor and milk them for all they're worth, for money or entertainment. how a capitalist society benefits nobody except those at the top. how someone will subject themselves to any level of pain or humiliation just to get out of debt. how even after seeing the first round of brutality and fearing for their lives, people will come back voluntarily and do it all again if they're desperate enough.

the point is not to want to be there. the point is to feel enraged at the people preying on the disadvantaged, to be horrified at how meaningless human life can become to someone for the sake of money, to wonder what it would take for you to feel the same.

and then rich people decided it was a good idea to do it for real. something something torment nexus.

i know that preaching about media literacy sounds a lot like 'look at me, i'm better than you because i understand The Themes'. but i don't understand how it keeps happening because most of it is about as subtle as a brick through a window. children forced to kill eachother = bad. poor people risking their lives = bad. surely that should be enough, even when it's muffled with nice clothes or a marketable game.

i can't be too mean to anyone back when THG first came out for overlooking the absolute atrocity of it all for 'which boy will it be', ESPECIALLY since most of us were similar ages to the characters. it's the kind of thing that doesn't really hit you until you're an adult and realise how helpless you actually are as a child, even if you don't know it at the time. honestly if anything it makes it even more effective, since it proves that people are susceptible to distraction tactics if it means they can ignore what's really going on, and if the girl is pretty enough.

and in the same way i can't fault the people who were part of squid game: the challenge or mrbeast's clusterfuck or even just going to the squid game escape room things they've made now. because it's a 'have your cake' kind of thing. you get to find out if you would survive, and you don't have to kill anyone, and MAYBE you win the lottery. and even though being subjected to filming conditions + unflattering editing isn't FUN, deep down you know that at the end of the day, you get to go home.

and you don't have to think about what you would do if the death game was real because it isn't, it's just an idea that someone has given you the most palatable piece of.

does anyone want to hear the thoughts i cooked on my commute today about how squid game got the hunger games treatment or do we just want the usual gay shit

[johnegbertdotcom]

Famous!Reader x hamzah

A/n: boi 1st time writing... don't judge I thought of this idea higher then a hoe okay

Warnings: just two cute ahh bihs who really really want eachother

Hamzah almost couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Almost.

You had posted a very passionate rant on tiktok, gushing about how much you love slushy noobz and how you could only dream of collabing with them.

The fact that you even knew about him and Martin—let alone appreciated their humor—shook him. He had always imagined you as the type to be elegant, sophisticated, maybe even too mature for the kind of chaotic energy he and Martin had thrived on. But realizing that you shared their sense of humor? That you actually found them funny? That just made his crush on you grow by tenfold.

But hamzah wasn't the only one nursing what was thought to be a "one-sided" crush.

You had been interested in Slushy Noobz—especially Hamzah—for what felt like forever. Your crush had been planted quietly in the background around the same time your career had exploded. It felt almost symbolic, the way both your stardom and this giddy infatuation grew almost side by side. You’d landed a few small roles in indie films, and then—seemingly overnight—one of those films blew up. Suddenly, you weren’t just “up and coming", you were practically everywhere.

You became the definition of “everyone wants to be her.” Despite that, you never let the fame go to your head. You stayed grounded, still posting regularly on your YouTube channel, sharing vlogs, behind-the-scenes moments, and your genuine self with fans. That relatability only made Hamzah fall harder.

With shaking fingers, a pounding heart, and a confidence that hamzah didn't even know we had in him, typed out a DM on Instagram:

"collab?"

He immediately threw his phone onto his bed like it had caught fire. Adrenaline shot through his body as he replayed everything in his head a thousand times.

Around thirty minutes later, you responded.

You were losing it. Hamzah had messaged you. THE Hamzah?? (Of course he did, do you even know who you are?)

You replied almost immediately:

“Are you serious?? If you are, when, where, and with who???”

Hamzah stared at your reply like it was a hallucination. He reread it five times, heart hammering in his chest. You were excited. You wanted this. He immediately screenshot it and sent it to Martin with the caption:

“BRO SHE SAID YES.”

Martin replied in all caps, “SHUT UP?!?!” followed by a dozen skull emojis and a GIF of someone passing out dramatically.

Meanwhile, Hamzah was trying to compose the most casual-sounding response in the world… while internally spiraling.

“Yea lol I’m serious. Could do something chill for YouTube first, or if you’re down, maybe something for both our channels?”

Sent. Again, the phone got tossed.

You, on the other hand, had your phone clutched in both hands, laying flat on your bed, staring at the screen with a face-splitting grin. You were texting your best friend at rapid speed:

“I think I’m gonna die. Hamzah just asked me to collab?? Like… we’re actually gonna film together??”

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes, laying out a plan. You agreed on something fun and interesting for your channels—something low-pressure, maybe a challenge or Q&A style video that would let your natural chemistry show. You settled on flying out to Canada and meeting up with Hamzah there in around two weeks.

The day of the collab came fast. Too fast.

You walked into the studio with your usual positive aura, your makeup was soft and glowy, and your hair looked effortlessly beautiful (even though it definitely had taken quitea bit of effort), and then you saw him.

Hamzah was leaning against the counter in a hoodie, his signature grin in place, but his eyes widened just slightly when he saw you. You both just… froze for a second. It wasn’t awkward, more like a quiet shock that this was actually real now.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you said first, trying to break the ice.

He laughed. “You’re exactly as cool as I thought.”

That made you blush—just slightly, but enough that Hamzah noticed.

The collab started off smooth. You filmed a “Who Knows Me Better” game—Martin had joined via FaceTime and was yelling answers from his kitchen. There was laughter, chaotic yelling, inside jokes forming on the spot, and more than a few lingering glances that both of your fans would definitely pick up on.

After filming, you two sat on the couch while the cameras were off, finishing your drinks and scrolling through the footage.

“This was fun,” Hamzah said, glancing over at you. “Way more fun than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, high praise.”

“No, I mean…” He trailed off, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I just didn’t expect it to feel this easy. Being around you.”

You looked at him, your heart thudding louder than it should. “Same. I thought I’d be more nervous.”

He smiled at that—soft, boyish, kind of shy. “So… should we do this again sometime?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is it a collab… or a date?”

Hamzah froze for a beat, stunned, then grinned like an idiot.

“Both?”

You laughed. “Deal.”

---

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.theguardian.com/football/2025/jun/26/pernille-harder-denmark-euro-2025

P wrote an article 😊

I went back to the team where it all started. I am able to be the role model I never had

I recently spent time coaching 80 girls at FC Midtjylland, the team where I began my career but had to leave in my teens as they had no women’s team.

i will be on a plane on Monday with Denmark heading to Switzerland to take part in my fourth Euros, but before the tournament I went back to where it all began for me, to Danish side FC Midtjylland. I was there to spend time coaching 80 girls from the age of eight to 13.

More than 20 years ago, I began my own journey there and things looked very different then. There was no women’s team and no women who played football. For me to go back as a role model these girls gives me a lot of energy. There is no better way to ground yourself than to be reminded where you came from.

I’m really happy I am able to be that role model I didn’t have myself, but most importantly it’s fun. I love being around these young girls, some who are really good and all who are just happy to be on a pitch.

There was no future for me at the club and when I was about 14 I had to move to another one an hour’s drive away. Now, these girls are in here early – maybe a little too early – and are already started in small talent teams with high-quality training. They are being given an opportunity to develop in a way my generation was not.

In 10 years’ time, these girls are going to be so good. I was lucky I had parents who were supportive and willing to take me to a team I could play in, but there were a lot of girls who didn’t have the same opportunities and support. It’s crazy to think about how much talent was wasted. Now, these girls can play and train in the city they come from and the setups around them are of a much higher quality.

I can see the growth in the talent pool and the quality of the young players coming into the national team or the Denmark youth teams. The technique and control of the ball is so much better than that of my generation when we were coming through. It’s very interesting to see they have a natural understanding of the game as well.

It would be easy to think I would feel slightly envious of what is available now and it would have been interesting to see how good I could have been if I had the same setup. However, I gained in other ways from having to try to figure out for myself how to get better as a player.

View image in fullscreenThe Guardian named Pernille Harder as the best female footballer in the world in 2018 and 2020. Photograph: Susan De Klerk

They have different challenges though. There are a lot of things that are more difficult for them today. There is a lot more pressure from social media on the newer generation. That can affect their game, make them worry too much about making mistakes and then they’ve grown up constantly comparing themselves on social media and trying to get likes and follows. These are not good things to have in sport: you need to be confident in yourself and be able to play without fear of criticism or comparison.

It’s weird reflecting on the platform football has given me. When I was a kid I never would have considered I would be able to advocate for women’s rights, equality, the environment, for young people and speak up on so many other issues. These are the things you don’t realise you will reflect on as being as important – if not more – than the titles won. That platform wouldn’t exist without the titles, but even when I reflect on those, I spend more time thinking about the moments with teammates rather than lifting the trophy.

There is always pressure in major tournaments, but when women’s football is developing so quickly across Europe, knowing the effect of a good tournament more widely back in Denmark adds more pressure. If we get to the knockout stage and if we do well there, that is something that brings the country together. In the past few years there has been more and more attention on us so if we do well it could be hugely positive for the development of women’s football.

There is no denying our group is tough, with Sweden, Germany and Poland in it. We had a tough end to the Nations League, a 6-1 loss to Sweden, who we play in our first game in Switzerland, but I don’t think that loss has taken too much of our confidence from us. It’s motivation to show it was just a one-off.

Having played them so recently we don’t have to spend too much time on tactics and formations, it’s about being ready from the first minute, it’s about all 11 players having to be on it, it’s about the duels and it’s about the energy. When we play against the better teams it is as much about the mentality.

There is a personal edge to the game for me. Although we have played with and against each other many times, it is very special that I face my partner, Magda Eriksson, at a Euros for the first time.

How do we interact before a big game against each other? I don’t talk about our tactics and she doesn’t talk about their tactics, but we know each other pretty well and so do the countries. It’s hard for our families though – they get very nervous about us playing against each other because they want the best for both of us. That’s the difficult part, you want the best for each other, but not in that moment.

[letloverule1111]

FanFic Share "Challenge"--What are the last 5 fanfics you've read that you LOVE?

HI--this is my post from reddit...sharing it here because I really want to know what y'all are reading!

I'm always looking to discover wonderful fanfics and I soooooo many fics that I love have come from suggestions here! So I want to play a fun "challenge" (challenge isn't really the right word for this but we're going to use it anyway, k?)

HERE'S WHAT TO DO:

Go to your History

Starting from your most recent read scroll back and note fanfics you've LOVED...(meaning, if in your 5 most recent fics you've read you've only truly LOVED 3 of them then keep scrolling back until you have 5!)

When you have 5 of them, list them/link them here!

I'll start!!!

Just Like North by anincompletelist (soldouthaz) This is a Maze Runner au. I have personally never read or watched Maze Runner but trust me, the writing and story telling is SO GOOD that it won't matter. If you like dystopic future/badass Alex fics YOU WILL LOVE THIS!

love thorns all over this rose by theprinceandagcd  @theprinceandagcd HOLY SHIT. This fic killed me in all the best ways. The writing is amazing. It will tear your heart apart before it is put back together so if you like angst, READ THIS IMMEDIATELY. Alex thinks he's incapable of being a good boyfriend due to a past experience--together with his "not good enough" stuff this is a potent combo. So when he hooks up with Henry, he makes it clear it is just sex and friendship...of course, Alex is a tortured soul...you guys--this fic is so good and my summary is lame...just trust me--EXCELLENT.

all i wanted (was you) by ksmalltalk Author's summary: It's been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry's marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life's difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them. NOTE: the epilogue hasn't been posted yet but no reason to think it won't be. This is a reliable poster. AND even if the epilogue never gets posted, the story is complete and SO SO SO WORTH READING!

With so much of my heart (that none is left to protest) by kiwiana  @kiwiana-writes Dare I say, one of the absolute best fics in our fandom. This is actually a re-read I did. Author's summary: Alex is a former child star struggling to make the transition into being seen as a serious actor. He jumps at an opportunity to perform on stage in the UK, seeing it as a way to break free from the typecasting and show what he can really do. But he wasn’t prepared to star alongside someone he hates. // Henry is a recent theatre graduate who accepts an amazing role in a queer reimagining of Much Ado About Nothing. And then it turns out his co-star is none other than the man he’s been hopelessly pining after for years—even though Henry made a terrible first impression when they met. // It’s… well, it’s practically Shakespearean.

Breathing In, Breathing Out by smc_27 One of the best writers in our fandom, I believe. Author's summary: He can’t believe just when he started to get the sense he actually knew what he was doing, Henry would pull this. Like, as far as Alex knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s on time for dates and he calls when he says he will. He remembers what Henry likes to eat and what his favourite drink is. He doesn’t watch movies alone that he thinks will be fun to watch together. He tries not to be distracting when they’re supposed to be studying.

He’s been thinking of Henry as his boyfriend in his head for like two weeks now.

Worrying Henry’s been lying about how much he likes this - how much he likes Alex - fucking hurts.

Okay! I can't wait to see what you've been reading (that you love)!!!! Yay! Thanks for playing!

BONUS--CURRENT READ IS

Bluebonnets and Polo Mallets by Chamel. @cha-melodius. Another one of the best writers in the fandom. Fic is a WIP but WILL get posted to completion. If you ever wanted to know what would happen when Polo player, Henry, and Rodeo star, Alex, meet up...this is your fic. SO GOOD!

[zepskies]

ehehe yep! Some fun fake dating trope to break up the angst on this one. 😆

I noticed those changes ❤️🧡🌇. I have to admit I like the Miami version a little bit more than the NYC one. Although both are just too prettyyy! 🫶🏻

Aww thank you so much!!! I really liked how the NYC one came out, but when I decided to switch it up for Miami, I honestly loved that one even more. The colors just pop 🥰💜❤️🧡

Can I say that I love a more “humanized” Ben? Even with his particular sense of humor, he can be fun to be around, and I very much enjoy that version of him. I’m not liking Víctor so far, and I haven’t decided about Gloria yet, but let’s hope she’s less criticizing and judgemental than her husband. Mamá Sofía is a menace, we can already tell. I already like her, but I’m also afraid she’s gonna embarrass us I front of Ben, which, in my opinion, it would be way worse than being a fugitive and an accomplice to Ben.

Ahhh that's the biggest challenge with SB/Ben - finding ways to humanize him and show different sides of him, while still trying to write him believably. You can go too far in either direction of asshole vs. softness, so it's always my goal to show (at least to the readers) his motivations, his vulnerable interior that he's reluctant to show, etc.

Viktor has a hard shell and a tough delivery, even if he means well. Gloria is kind of one of those mothers who tries to tone down her husband, but doesn't quite succeed. Sophia though is my favorite. 😂 She's a gem, and you'll see more of her next chapter! "which, in my opinion, it would be way worse than being a fugitive and an accomplice to Ben." -- LOL fair enough 🤣

And just to wrap this up before I make it longer than needed, how’s possible that Reader, trying to save herself from a building that was falling apart, she was being a decent human being, and attempting to aid an injured man, which turned out to be Soldier Boy, she ended up in almost house arrest, having to feed that giant petulant and stubborn man-child, having to leave her home, go Miami last minute, and deal with his jackass dad?! And the cherry on top: She’s got Butcher and Homelander on her ass now.

It's a Boys-level kind of irony, isn't it? 😂 Just one clusterfuck after another, all because she tried to do the right thing. But you'll see -- that choice just might pay off for her by the end. 💖💖

(re: your tags -- we're definitely on Miami time now!! And this marks a big shift for the rest of the story...)

UNRAVEL ME - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Afro-Latina!Reader

Summary: In the wake of Vought Tower finally falling, you find yourself crossing paths with Soldier Boy. Rogue, weakened, dangerous, and hunted, he needs a place to hide. You’re not about to offer up your own home to shelter a supe wanted by Homelander and the CIA…but he’s also not going to let you refuse.

AN: Here we go! Another big step in their adventure...

Song Inspo: “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura (English lyrics)

Word Count: 8.8K

Tags/Warnings: Fake dating (lol), meet the family, some old-school machismo, Dominican food, bachata, “North Cuba” (Miami), angst, rom-com vibes

💜 Series Masterlist

❤️ YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 4: Food & Family

After driving through the loops of highway along I-95, Ben grows frustrated at the thirty or so signs of exits that lead to different parts of the city. One wrong turn, and it could send you miles away from where you were—even over the bridge to Miami Beach.

You consult the GPS on your iPad, since your new “burner” phone is just an old-style flip phone. 

You’re able to point him where to go to get to the airport. He finally takes the right exit, but he pulls off the highway split, off the main road, and heads into the alley of a side street.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

He doesn’t answer you, just pulls to a stop and shifts the car into park.

“It’s been fun, sweetheart, but I think it’s time we part ways here. I’ve got a couple errands to run before I get the fuck out of here,” he says.

You consider him shrewdly. “Errands? What the hell do you mean? How’re you gonna even get a plane ticket? You don’t have any money…”

And it dawns on you. You suck in a breath, then you glare at him.

“What’re you going to do, Ben?”

“That’s my fucking business, all right?”

“What’re you gonna do, knock over a bank? Kill a few people on your way out?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, sweetheart,” he says. He looks at the darkening alley ahead rather than at you. He’s keeping an eye out for anyone that might spot you two in the car, until you lean over and lay a hand on his forearm.

“Ben,” you say. “Look, I’ll pay for your ticket.”

His brows crunch together. “I don’t want your fucking money, all right?”

You hesitate. Now that’s a first. But you still take your hand back to start digging into your purse for your wallet. He reaches out and stops you with a big, warm hand over yours. Firm.

“You hear what I fucking said?” he snaps.

You just sigh. “Ben, breaking into a bank—”

“Doesn’t have to be a fucking bank.”

“All right, a store! Either way, that might raise a few alarms, don’t you think?”

“I’ll figure it out,” Ben says. His gaze cuts away from you and toward the city behind you both.

Suddenly, it hits you. This is it. No more of this asshole being a human crater exploding into your life. 

But it’s also kind of hard to imagine him getting on that plane alone, fucking off to obscurity again. You bite your lip while considering him. It feels like a waste.

“What if…what if you stay and fight?” you say. “Fight off Homelander. Expose him for the piece of shit he is.”

Ben’s steely expression just hardens further. “I’m done talking about that frosted hole. Whatever formula they mixed him with in that fucking lab, it didn’t come out of my ball sack.” 

You roll your eyes. God, he’s so gross. “Ben. For God’s sake. Don’t deflect—”

“You do realize I have the FBI, the CIA, and the whole rest of the alphabet soup on my ass, right?” he says. Finally, he looks at you. “They don’t want me here. They didn’t even try to find me when the fucking Commies… So no. Fuck ‘em. I’ll make new somewhere else.”

It’s truly incredible, considering how damn angry you were at him yesterday. Angry and afraid.

Now, you begin to feel a twinge of…concern. Yes, he’s arrogant and vulgar, selfish, and more than a bit of a dick at times. He’s killed people, whether on accident or on purpose, even if it was partially for your sake. But after last night, getting just a glimpse of what he went through, you wonder if he really deserves to be run out of the country. 

I may regret this, but…

“Listen,” you begin. “It’s getting late. Do you want to have dinner with me and my family? You’ll get some good food, one more night States’ side.”

Ben looks just as surprised by your offer as you are to suggest it. His lips begin to quirk upward, albeit incredulously.

“You offering to be my tour guide?” he asks.

You give him a knowing look. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s just dinner. Nothing else.”

You raise a finger, gesturing at him to hold on a second, and you grab your phone to call your mom first. She’s easier to talk to than your father, who would probably bombard you with questions about the trip and why it was taking you so long to get home.

“Hello?” your mom answers.

“Hey, it’s me,” you reply.

“Why are you calling from this weird number? Did something happen to your phone? Is that why you haven’t been answering our calls?”

“Yeah, sorry, I lost my phone and had to get a replacement,” you lie on the fly. You’ve had to get good at it over the past week. “I made it to Miami though. I’m almost home.”

“Oh, that’s great! Meet at Mamá’s house though. We’re making dinner right now,” she says.

You smile. Looks like Ben is going to get to meet your grandma too. “Really? Oh, okay. We’ll meet you there then.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“Oh, I’m uh…bringing a friend,” you say, though your face begins to heat in a blush at the way Ben smirks at you.

“A friend, huh?” your mom asks, in a suspicious tone.

“Yeah, okay see you soon!” You hang up the phone before she can ask you any more questions. Sometimes she can be as bad as your dad. You shift your attention to Ben.

“Okay, let’s switch seats. I think it’ll be easier if I drive,” you say.

He raises a skeptical brow at you. “Where are we going?”

You offer him a smile. “Oh, just wait. You’re in for a good time.”

Homelander’s angry strides are heavy and unmistakable. Vought employees veer out of his way and give him a wide berth, keeping their heads down all the while. His heated steps bring him to the Surveillance team, where The Deep has been at the helm for the past couple of months.

And what the fuck does he have to show for it? He’s sipping a soda while flirting with one of the glorified interns trying to sort through the classified files on her screen. Deep perks up when he notices Homelander barging into the room.

“Oh! Hey, sir—”

“Where the fuck is my son?” Homelander snaps.

Ever since the incident last week, Ryan has been ducking out of his room more than usual. Despite him choosing the right side, Homelander’s side, Ryan hasn’t been working with the production team on his superhero image.

Nothing useful has come in about Soldier Boy, and now Butcher has disappeared from their sight as well. Though that one doesn’t matter so much. Homelander will be happy to see that bastard die of the cancer already eating his brain. There’s probably nothing Homelander could do that would be more fucking hilarious than that.

“Uhh, not sure, sir. But we do have something new on the Soldier Boy front,” Deep says. He cues a finger at the girl, Ashley or Annika or whatever the fuck her name is.

She presses a play button on her computer screen, and Homelander bends at the waist to scrutinize the footage. It captures an alleyway between the main building of Vought Tower and the garage.

“This is the day of the, um, the incident,” she adds.

Soldier Boy exits the building, stumbling out really. He eventually crosses paths with a young woman. To Homelander, she almost seems familiar.

Soldier Boy grabs her arm, says something to her that makes her eyes widen with fear, then drags her toward him so he can cover her mouth with his hand. They wait there against the wall for almost thirty seconds. Then, he pulls her into the garage with him.

“Who the fuck is that?” Homelander asks.

Allie chimes in. “Ah, she was a Vought employee, sir. She recently quit without prior notice.”

“See, we had Webweaver on this, but the police just found his body in Lake Marion, South Carolina,” Deep says. 

A slow smile spreads across Homelander’s face. “Fucking finally.”

“Uhh, what?” Deep says.

It’s a lead, Homelander thinks. A trail. One step closer to hunting down dear old Dad. 

Emphasis on fucking old.

Your grandmother lives south, west, and more west, almost right on the edge of the Everglades—a 1.5-million-acre wetlands protected by the state. When tourists and natives alike end up on the news for getting their limbs bit off by alligators or left half-dead by a cottonmouth snake, it’s usually because they were stupid enough to hike through the mangroves and jump into the swampy waters alone.

You pull up in front of your grandma’s house and park in the paved driveway. It’s a modest three-bedroom, Spanish-style home that your dad grew up in with his two brothers, your Uncle Felix and Uncle Luis. They re-painted the outer walls the color of a soft sunset in golden orange, the roof tiles a darker terracotta. A rod iron gate around the property meets at the front with a small arch Ben will later have to duck his head under.

You can already smell freshly cut grass as the sprinklers run in the front yard, but for the moment, you stay in the car to figure out the game plan.

“So,” Ben says, “what role am I playing for tonight, sweetheart? Your work friend, or your boyfriend? Both have their pros and cons, and potential benefits.”

His grin is far too cocksure not to irritate you on sight. You’re already regretting this lapse in your sanity that led you to try being nice to this asshole.

You also realize that you haven’t exactly thought this through. What if they recognize him from the news? 

…Well, your parents don’t like social media and your grandmother barely even knows how to text, let alone what Instagram is. 

“Let’s just play it by ear,” you say, resisting a sigh. “But for now…God, fine, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” he gamely nods. “How long’ve we been dating?”

“Long enough for me to bring you to see my parents, so let’s say a few months,” you say. Then, you grab his wrist. “Please, try to tone down the cursing and general pussy talk around my family. They’re Catholic and…conservative.”

Again, his lips twitch upward in a way you don’t really like.

“Sure,” he says, “I can turn on the charm.”

He turns his wrist under your grasp to bring your hand up to his lips. 

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I can be very convincing.” 

A warm blush spreads across your cheeks, prickling down your neck.

Shit. You’re already regretting this. 

After slipping your hand from his grasp so you can look yourself over in the little car mirror, you get out of the car first. Ben follows your lead and walks up to the front door with you. 

You look over at him with a more critical eye, humming to yourself. You try to fix his wrinkled shirt, straighten his collar. Ben watches you do it with an amused gleam in his eyes. 

“My mom is the queen of snap judgments,” you explain. “One damn smudge or wrinkle and she’s gonna think you don’t bathe.”

You lean up and sort your fingers through his hair a little, sweeping the strands away from his brow. You have to ignore the way he’s watching you. 

When you turn and knock on the door, Ben settles a hand on the small of your back. You shoot him a raised brow. He winks at you. You don’t have time to comment or even push his hand away, because that’s when the door opens.

You greet your dad with a wide smile to cover up your nerves. Out of anyone that could’ve opened the door, why did it have to be him? He kisses your cheek when you lean in to hug him, but he eyes the man beside you with a note of appraisal. 

“Who’s this?” he asks. 

“Dad, this is Ben,” you say, choking out the second bit, “my boyfriend.” 

“Sir,” Ben greets. He offers the man a firm handshake. 

“Victor,” your dad replies, though he shoots you a look. “You didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend.”

“Is that her?” your mom says. She comes out to greet you and Ben, taking in his tall, handsome form with a pleased scrutiny. “My goodness, this is your friend, huh?” She gives you a teasing wink. “I didn’t buy that one for a minute, but it has been a long time since you’ve brought a man home.”

Ben’s smile takes on an amused glint when he casts you some side-eye. 

“It’s kinda new,” you confess, trying to ignore the hot blush in your cheeks. Your mom is already having way too much fun with this, but she immediately levels up her own brand of Cuban Mom Charm, taking Ben into the house by his arm. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Gloria. This is my husband Victor,” she says, gesturing at your dad, who stands stoically behind her. Ben gives him another nod, then hits your mom with a kind of suavecito that would put James Bond to shame. 

“Now I know who to thank for giving my girl her beautiful smile. We’ve got Miss Florida herself right here,” Ben flirts, squeezing her hand on his arm.

Gloria twitters a laugh, making you bite your lip against a snort. 

She leads him further into your grandmother’s house, while you and Victor follow behind. Ben takes note of all the pictures on the walls and housed in various frames on virtually every shelf and accent table: your parents’ wedding, your father and your uncles when they were young, and you at various ages—kindergarten through your high school graduation, followed by your college graduation. 

There are pictures of you with your parents, your ten first cousins and thirty second cousins, your aunts and uncles, and you with your grandmother—the woman who’s currently cooking up something that smells delicious in the kitchen. Garlic and onions and olive oil; the smells mingle together with the red and green bell peppers being sautéed in a pan with some kind of red sauce. 

Your grandma Sofia takes in Ben from head to toe with wide-eyed, blinking surprise, even a bit of wonder. She glances at you, at Ben’s hand once again resting on the small of your back. Slowly, she brightens.

“Ay, Diosito mio, who’s this handsome man in my house?” she says.

Ben smiles, but you step in before he can flirt with her too. 

“Mamá, this is Ben. Uh, my boyfriend,” you tell her while giving her a big, warm hug. You try to blink past the tears stinging your eyes. You’ve probably missed your grandma the most. 

She squeezes you tight, but she also smacks you on the ass. 

“Hey!” you protest, laughing in embarrassment.

“Oye, you couldn’t call to tell us you finally got another man?” she chides. “How long has this one being going on?”

“Um, a few months—”

The old woman gasps, as if you told her that her recorded episodes of Caso Cerrado, the Latino version of Judge Judy, had been erased. Taking another look at a highly amused Ben, she crosses herself and delivers a kiss to the heavens. 

“Ay, Padre Santísimo. Finally, a man who doesn’t dress como un niño malcreado—like Justin Bieber.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. Your mother snickers, while Ben chuckles deeply. He doesn’t know who the fuck Justin Bieber is, but he knows about at least one of the pussy man-boys you’ve dated in the past. He slides you a knowing smirk.

“No, ma’am. She’s got a real man now,” he adds.

You blow out a subtle breath, trying with all your might not to glare at him. You do shoot him a tight smile, a warning in your eyes.

But he just trails a strong hand across the small of your back. The sensation makes tingles travel down your spine. 

You bite your lip and return your attention to your mom, who grabs some cheese and salami for you and Ben to snack on. You sit with him at the kitchen island and help your grandmother peel potatoes for the meal. By now Victor has claimed his usual spot on the couch, no doubt to catch up on one of the ten new baseball games he always has recorded. If there’s one thing your dad is obsessed with, it’s baseball. 

Ben lingers with you though, casually resting a hand on the back of your chair while he leans back in his seat at the island. 

“What’s on the menu?” Ben asks. 

“Carne guisada, white rice, and tostones. Eh, fried plantains,” Sofia replies. “Have you ever had Dominican food before?”

“No, but it smells delicious.”

“Ay, mija, have you not been feeding him?” your grandma reproaches, to your long-suffering sigh. 

If she only fucking knew.

Your mom watches in amusement while taking over stirring the stew. Meanwhile, Sofia rounds the kitchen island so she can tug you down by your arm.

“What have I taught you, huh?” she whispers. “A man well-fed will stay in your bed.” 

Mortification burns hot in your cheeks. Your hand comes up to half cover your face. 

“Ay, Mamá,” you hiss. Inside, you’re dying a thousand deaths. 

You glance at Ben over your shoulder. He sips at his beer, but by the way he’s smirking, of fucking course he heard her. 

“You call her ‘mom’ too?” he asks.

“Yes, they all call me that because I am everyone’s mother here,” Sofia says. She wipes her hand free of parsley bits and pats Ben’s hand where it rests on the counter. “But you, young man, can call me Sofia.”

“Mamá!”

Ben eats dinner with gusto. Your grandmother is satisfied and pleased by how much he’s clearly enjoying the braised beef stew. She even loads him up with his third serving. You watch him in amusement, even though you shake your head.

He’s stuffing his face as if he’s never eaten real food before. Though you wonder when the last time he had a real home-cooked meal was…before you met him, that is.

Ben and Victor talk about baseball and the classic players they admire (with Ben having actually met a few of them). While the men are distracted with their conversation at the far end of the table, you have to endure your mother and grandmother’s grilling. 

Where is he from?

What does he do? 

How old is he? 

Spring weddings are just beautiful in Miami, you know. Your cousin Julissa had a spring wedding by the beach. Wasn’t it nice?

Needless to say, you should be winning an Oscar for your own improv performance tonight.  

“Where are you guys staying tonight?” Gloria asks.

Your grandma looks affronted. “Well, here of course.”

You laugh a bit nervously. “Actually, Ben can’t stay. He, um…he has a plane to catch in the morning, for a business trip.”

“Oh, what kind of business? You said he works at Vought too,” Gloria asks.

You nod, though you have to think quickly to come up with something plausible. You glance over at Ben, who briefly meets your gaze. The look in his eyes tells you that he’s caught the edges of your conversation and wants to know what you’ll say as well.

“Uh, Ben is in Vought’s Sales Division,” you say. “Sometimes they have him travel overseas.” 

“Oh, wow. Where are you going, Ben?” Gloria asks him.

“Buenos Aires,” Ben replies. “Vought’s trying to develop another Voughtland down there. They’ve been trying for years, but the locals figure they’ve got enough entertainment, what with the tourist traps and the drug cartels and all. So they’ve brought me on to seal the deal. Think of me as a…well, as a closer. ‘S why they pay me the big bucks.” 

You resist the urge to shake your head, but you do squeeze his thigh in warning under the table. He gives you a smile and a raise of his brows. Eying him pointedly, you shift the conversation. 

“So he’s planning on staying at the airport tonight, since it’s such an early flight,” you say. 

Sofia shakes her head, as well as a finger in the air. 

“No, no. You are a guest in my home, so you will stay here tonight. I won’t take no for an answer,” she says. 

Ben gives you a self-satisfied smile, before he answers her.

“Well, who am I to say no?”

It seems strategic, the way your mom corners Ben in the kitchen to try and fish more information out of him. Meanwhile, your dad pulls you aside into the living room.

“So tell me. What’s going on with that job of yours?” he asks. His brows have that telltale furrow of concentrated Dad Worry. On Victor, it looks just shy of being angry.

You cross your arms, debating with yourself for a moment. You’ve been lying a lot tonight, but this is something you know you have to come clean about, even if you know it’s a victory for your father.

“I quit, okay,” you admit.

His shoulders loosen in relief. His gaze raises heavenward while his hands rest on his hips.

“Thank God,” he says. But then, he concentrates back on you. “This mean you’re finally moving back home?”

“I didn’t say that,” you snap. “I’m gonna stay here with Mamá for a little while until I figure out what I’m gonna do. But I’m going to find something in New York. I have time now. Maybe I can finally start my own graphic design business.”

For the past year that you hadn’t been able to find other work to leave Vought, you’d begun to spin the idea in your mind. You have friends in the Marketing department who could help you build a website, run some ads across socials. You know how to create your own content, do your own marketing, even reach out to potential clients. All you need at this point is some time and money. You have one, and you can use some of what you have in savings to invest in the idea—to build something of your own. Something honest.

Victor’s jaw clenches. He swipes a hand of frustration over his face, his gait shifting with the effort of keeping his anger contained in his mother’s house.

“Why do you always have to be so damn stubborn?” he grits out.

“Why’re you always trying to control my life?” you counter, just at hotly. “I’m not a little girl. I’ve been doing what I have to do on my own—”

“But that’s it. You don’t have to,” he says. “You wanna get blown up in one of those buildings? Or run through in the street by one of those fucking supes, like that girl two years ago? You’re smart, mija. Use that brain for something besides selfish little ideas that don’t go anywhere.”

Your mouth falls open, but nothing else escapes. Your heart is in your throat, a painful lump as tears cling to your lashes.

“You went to NYU because the schools here somehow weren’t good enough. Now you’re in debt,” he continues, raising his hand up to his brows. “Hasta los ojitos. ¿Verdad? You tried to make it in that city because you wanted to be an artist. And where did you end up? At a corrupt fucking company that worked you like a dog, and nearly got you buried under a pile of rubble like it was 9/11 all over again.”

His words cut into you like so many knives. A familiar well of acid had been churning in your stomach; now it reaches up into the base of your throat where you’re already choked by embarrassment, resentment, shame.

“Okay, dessert!” your mom calls from the kitchen, this time unaware of her husband. She brings out the large pan of flan she made last night and sets it on the table while Ben begrudgingly brings out the smaller plates and spoons. The smell of Café Bustelo reaches you as the cafetera begins to steam and boil on the stove. Sofia lifts the top of it and nods when she finds that the espresso is done percolating.

“Quién quiere café?” she asks.

Heaving a sigh through his nose, Victor raises a finger. Ben notices you, sees whatever he sees in your face, no matter how you try to bury it down. You can tell that he’s heard every word, just by that look on his face. Ben approaches you and your dad, once again sliding a hand across the small of your back, but you speak before he has a chance to say anything.

“You want coffee, right?”

Ben nods slightly, letting you leave him to escape into the kitchen. He shifts his attention to your father. The man is shorter than Ben, but still a presence that commands respect in the house.

“You still work for Vought after everything that’s happened?” Victor asks him.

Ben’s brow turns wry. “Oh, I’ve got an exit strategy.”

Victor nods. That seems to mollify him a bit, even as he watches his daughter. Ruefulness enters his gaze, even if it’s still hard with his convictions. It just reminds Ben of his father’s blue-eyed stare—the kind that always pierced straight through his skin and saw every scrap of weakness underneath.

“She’d rather live in that fucking cesspool than listen to me,” Victor says. “Young, stubborn, thinks she knows it all.”

Ben’s lips tug at a smile. Yeah, that’s fucking you.

“She thinks she can handle it out there by herself, but take away all that attitude, and what?” Victor shakes his head. “She’s fucking soft.”

Ben glances over at him, then at the silver medals framed in glass on the wall. There’s a picture of a younger version of the man in front him, leaner, just as stoic, wearing an army green uniform and a captain’s insignia. If Victor looked to be in his mid-fifties now, that would’ve put him in his early 20s during the Vietnam War.

Other than a few photo ops after the Tet Offensive and a movie he did in the late ‘60s, Ben spent most of his time snorting coke and fucking the female cast of Bewitched. (Elizabeth Montgomery blamed her failed marriage on him, but that shit was wrecked long before he came into her picture. Literally.)

Ben’s gaze drifts away from the shiny wall of accomplishment, and back over to you across the room. You’re helping your mom set out the plates of flan after she cuts each slice. He sees how hard you try to bury everything you have boiling inside behind the task, swiping a stray curl out of your eyes as you go. He’s come to recognize that look, and the things you do to keep moving forward.

“She can be,” Ben nods at your father. “But maybe she’s stronger than you think.”

Victor’s brows furrow, but Ben doesn’t stick around for more. He joins you back at the dinner table and takes a small white espresso cup you offer him. Your fingers brush with his on the pass, but its his hand casually curling wily strands of your hair behind your ear that earns your attention, your slightly widening eyes.

He smirks down at you before taking a seat. Despite yourself, your lips tug at a smile, and you join him.

After dessert, your parents finally head back home. You finally allow yourself to confess to your grandmother that you quit your job. It’s easier to be honest with her than with your parents sometimes.

She’s sorry to hear the news, knowing you enjoyed your independence in New York. While you didn’t necessarily love your job, up until now it had allowed you to have the life you wanted.  

Since she has more room to spare in her house, she’s graciously agreed to have you stay with her for a little while. You know what you told your dad, but you wonder if you can even go back to New York after this. He might just win after all.

But of course, there’s also Ben.

“I still don’t know what the big fucking deal is,” he says, somewhat grumpily. 

You sigh and shove an extra blanket into his hands from the hallway closet. 

“Look, my grandma is fun, even a little mischievous, but she’s not actually going to let me share a bedroom with my ‘boyfriend’ under her roof. Conservative Catholics, remember?” 

You also hand him a towel to take a shower. “Besides, it’s not like I’d let you into my bed anyway. Can you please just remember our deal?” 

He nods, albeit reluctantly. “Don’t you fucking worry. I’ll be out in the morning before God and everyone wakes up.” 

You hesitate, leaning your back against the doorway to your room. Ben will be staying in the second guest room down the hall.

“Well, you can still knock on my door before you leave,” you say, with a slight smile. “You know, if you wanna say goodbye.”

Ben eyes you, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Might as well get that outta the way now,” he says.

Your smile fades in confusion, but before you can react, he slips an arm around your waist and guides you in close. After a beat to gauge the look on your face—surprised, but not angry, by the way your eyes roam his face—he bows his head to claim your lips.

It’s a thorough kiss, and a little demanding as his lips move over yours, but it makes a tendril of heat lick down your spine as your fingers curl around his biceps. 

You find yourself at a loss when he breaks away. His eyes open to meet yours, smiling when he finds you breathless.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” he says.

And he lets you go, allowing your hair to slip through his fingers. 

You’re tempted to smack that self-satisfied look off his face, but you shake your head with a smile. You guess you can give him one for the road. 

Butcher, Hughie, and the rest of the boys are tearing apart Webweaver’s disgusting apartment. Considering the supe’s phone is dead, and he hasn’t been seen in over 24 hours, Butcher is willing to bet that Soldier Boy killed the little prick. 

Unfortunately for Butcher, Webweaver was feeding him information. 

“There’s nothing here,” M.M. says in disgust, wiping his hands of a sticky substance. He’d rather not know what it is.

“He had to know something in order to pick up the cunt’s trail,” Butcher says. He points to Webweaver’s laptop, where Hughie is trying to hack the password.

Butcher’s phone buzzes in his pocket. Fishing it out and peering at the ID, he smiles slightly at the text. 

I’m close to your apartment. Can we talk?

Ryan. Finally, the kid is coming around. Butcher types out a reply.

Give me half an hour. 

Butcher considers his next words carefully, and he adds…

There are things we needa talk about.

There was too much shit he hadn’t told the kid, for fear of pushing him away. (Already done.)

Or fearing the kid wouldn’t believe him. (Ain’t got nothing left to lose now.)

Butcher only half suppresses a wheezing cough.

Oh, yeah, he’s still fucking dying. But if there’s one thing he’s going to do, it’s find Soldier Boy, so he can make good on their deal on snuffing Homelander.

He knows he’ll have to be even more creative with how he gets the supe to agree, seeing as Butcher double-crossed him once before. But this time, he has M.M. and Annie actually on board with the plan. Homelander plans to get V24 in the military with Victoria Neuman’s help.

So all the fucking Spice Girls finally agree: right now, Homelander’s the bigger threat. Then, they’ll somehow deal with Soldier Boy.

Or better yet, the two will kill each other. 

“Got it!” Hughie fist pumps the air. He’s been able to crack into Webweaver’s laptop, even though he balks at having to sort through a tremendous amount of disturbing pornography.

He finally finds a file labeled: Parking Lot, June 3, 5:34 p.m.

He presses play. The first thing he sees is your scared face come into frame, followed by Soldier Boy. 

​​“Oh my God,” you breathe. “Soldier Boy?” He glances up at you through furrowed brows. He looks ragged and soot-stained, his breathing labored as he leans against the wall. He focuses on you. “Uh, a-are you okay?” you ask shakily, clutching your messenger bag.

“All right,” Butcher drawls. “Who the fuck is that?” 

In the morning, you wake to the sun in your eyes through the windows. You get up and check the room across the hall. The door is open, and the bed is made, clear of Ben’s things. You feel disappointed that he didn’t wake you up before he left.

I guess the one goodbye was good enough for him, you think, not willing to wonder why that kind of upsets you. 

Whatever. It’s for the best. Soldier Boy is finally out of your life, and you can focus on what you need to do to pick up the threads of your life.

With that decision made, you go about starting your day. You don’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You just fluff out your curls and venture out to the kitchen, where the smell of Cuban coffee once again wafts stronger in the air. Your grandma might be Dominican, but she’s embraced her daughter-in-law’s Cuban-centric community with the little things, like espresso and pastries in the morning.

There you find something unexpected. You find Ben sipping coffee, chatting with your grandmother at the kitchen island while she makes breakfast. Her favorite radio station plays on the counter and masks the contents of their conversation, but they’re smiling and laughing, having a good ol’ fucking time.

Until Ben notices you standing there with your mouth hanging open. He grins.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, taking another sip of his coffee. Sofia smiles over at you too.

“Ben,” you say. Your voice strikes a higher pitch than usual. “What happened to your flight?”

“It got cancelled,” he claims, though he beckons you over. You remember then that this little play is still going on—meaning you force yourself to smile and go to him as if you’re so very happy to see him.

Why the hell did I ever think this was a good fucking idea?!

He takes full advantage of the boyfriend charade, laying a heavy hand on the small of your back. It travels around your waist and comes to rest on your hip. He brushes his thumb back and forth over the thin fabric of your pajama top, and even has the gall to eye you with a grin, likely noticing that you aren’t wearing a bra.

“I invited him to stay for a couple more days, get to know the family,” Sofia says while stirring some scrambled eggs. Bacon is also sizzling on another pan on the stove.

While her back is turned, you shoot Ben a knowing glare.

To think you were a little disappointed about being rid of him. Now, you’re just angry and irritated as good sense hits you upside the head. The longer he stays with you, the better chance of Homelander or the government finding him. 

You’re quiet throughout breakfast while Sofia asks Ben more questions about himself.

“Do you go to church?” she asks, with a raised brow.

You snort into your coffee, but Ben just rubs the back of his neck. 

“I’ll admit, I’ve skipped a few Sundays,” he says, somewhat dismissively.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. His skin would probably burn if he took one step inside of a sanctuary. 

“Well, what about kids. Do you like children?” Sofia asks.

Your eyes widen. “Mamá, seriously?”

“I always thought I’d have a few,” Ben replies. You turn to look at him, and the sincerity of his tone and the sudden thoughtful gleam in his eyes surprises you even more.

“Guess I’ve been waiting for the right time to settle down,” he says, glancing at you. It’s hard for you to read that look, but it makes you wonder what the fuck he’s thinking.

He goes back to eating.

After breakfast, you get up to help Sofia clear the table. While she’s putting the pastries away, you grab Ben’s arm and lead him closer to the living room. 

“You really need to go,” you whisper-hiss. “You promised me—”

He rolls his eyes. “All right, keep your fucking panties on. Just one more night of R&R and I’ll get gone.”

“You better be for real, because I can’t—”

“Ay, mi canción,” Sofia says. She comes over and tugs on your hand. “You remember this one, right?”

The song that plays on the radio is “Mi Muchachita” by Luis Segura, the song your mom would always wake you up with on Saturday mornings to get you up to help her clean the house. It was a tradition your grandma started when your dad and his brothers were kids. She later got your mom hooked on it when she came to stay with your family for a few years, shortly after you were born. Gloria had needed the help, and her parents had already passed away a few years back.

Now, Sofia leads you away from Ben so that you can dance with her. She pulls into the bachata—ironically, the dance that began in the bars and brothels of Santo Domingo. In the 1960s, it was the dance of the lower class, the degenerates, and the campesinos. Bolero rhythm was its heart, but the spirit of the common people was its soul.

You protest at first at being uprooted from your grumpy mood, but your grandma has a way of hooking you into almost anything. Eventually your tense shoulders relax, and you’re laughing and twirling under her hand while you let your body inhabit the song.

Ben watches the scene in amusement, becoming transfixed by the sway of your hips, to the quick and natural steps of your feet…until Sofia grabs his hand too. 

“Hey, no. I’m good,” he says. “I don’t dance…whatever this is.”

“So I teach you,” she insists, beckoning him closer. “Come, come! Watch me. Es fácil. Real easy.”

You step off to the side to give them room, and you giggle while watching Ben try to follow her instructions. Sofia is persistent though. She teaches him how to step in counts of two, how to lead her back and forth, then turn her around. She even sends you a cheeky look while she has the man’s hands trapped either in her hand, or on her waist.

You hide your laughter behind your espresso cup. Damn. She’s still got game.

After a few minutes, Sofia leads him over to join Ben’s hand with yours, claiming she needs a rest. She guides you into his arms, and you step in with a good-natured smile.

“This is a bit fucking much,” he mutters to you. “It’s too complicated.” 

“You’re actually doing well. Just feel it though. Don’t watch your feet,” you continue to instruct him, amused by his hesitance. 

He seems to be into this though, and he begins to gain some confidence the more he learns the flow of the steps. He holds your hand more assured as he moves from side to side in time with the beat. For a white boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he has some decent rhythm. 

Ben throws in a spin that’s not quite bachata-like. It feels more like the swing of the ‘40s, the stuff you’ve only seen in movies. Still, it thrills you when you end up even closer in his arms, his warm chest pressed to yours. He looks down on you with hooded eyes that slowly roam your face, stopping on your lips.

He begins to bow his head toward yours, but you clear your throat and smile, a little nervously. You place a hand on his chest and push him back subtly as the song comes to an end. 

“Oh! Before I forget,” Sofia says. 

You almost forgot she was there. Instinctively you freeze where you stand, still catching your breath all too close to Ben. 

“Can you pick up some things from the store for later? I’m making arroz con pollo,” she says. “But you know what, I’ll give you a list, ‘cause I’m out of some other things too.”

Glancing up at Ben once more, you take the excuse to step away from him. You agree to take your grandma’s list, and you head to your room to get changed. 

The man not only follows you to the car, but insists on “getting out of the house” and going with you to the local Cuban-owned grocery store and café. 

“Christ on a Cross, is this the price of steak nowadays?” he mutters, eying all the cuts behind the cold glass. “Used to be cheaper to order it at a fucking restaurant.”

You’ve stopped here to pick up a couple packages of ground beef. You shoot him a glance, wondering why he cares when he had enough money to buy the restaurant, once upon a time. Maybe it’s the principle of the matter with him.

“Welcome to the modern world,” you drawl. “It’s getting too expensive to live, and jobs don’t want to pay for shit.”

He raises a brow, but he follows you down the aisle.

Ben is kind of the worst to go shopping with. He sneaks things into the cart when he thinks you’re not looking. You tell him you’re not buying him three different cakes and a dirty magazine. Where the hell did he even find that? 

You stuff it all back on a shelf, behind some boxed novelty cakes imported from Mexico. Though you agree to buy him one dessert, after you throw in some peaches. 

“You may be a super soldier, but you should eat more fruits and veggies,” you quip. Stuffing himself full of takeout, booze, and weed all the time can’t be good for him.

Ben raises a wry brow at you. He sidles up close while you’re putting goods on the checkout counter. His hand molds to the curve of your waist as he speaks lowly in your ear.

“I’ve got all the peaches I need, sweetheart.”

You blush hotly and send him a wide-eyed look over your shoulder. His hand means to drift lower on your ass, but your lips purse, and you smack his hand away.

“Do you have no shame?” you whisper-hiss. Giving him one kiss was like feeding a stray dog. Now he thinks he can keep sniffing your ass for more. 

“Come on, Chiquita. Would it kill you to lighten the fuck up?” he teases. 

You roll your eyes heavenward, praying for strength. You manage to get through the rest of the transaction of the checkout line mostly in peace, and Ben does all the heavy lifting of putting the bags in the car. However, you’re giving him a bit of a cold shoulder as you get back into the car.  

“All right, what’s the matter now?” he asks. “For Christ’s sake, you don’t have to be so fucking frigid.”

“Why did you come anyway?” you ask, slamming the trunk closed. “Just to cop another feel? What, did you think I was gonna blow you in the alley behind the bodega?”

Ben hesitates with a frown. There’s a moment where you think he might give you an earnest answer, but ultimately, he just shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

You scoff, both incredulous and disgusted as you rip the driver’s side door open and get inside the car. You barely wait for Ben to do the same on the passenger side, before you’re turning the ignition and angrily shifting the car into reverse. 

You back out with more force than Ben would’ve recommended, but he flexes his fingers on his thigh. He doesn’t want to tell you that he hadn’t liked the idea of you going out alone. Not without a weapon, some protection.

But he also didn’t think you’d still be cockblocking him so much after last night. And this morning, he thought you were actually warming up to him…

Guess not, he thinks sardonically, with a roll of his eyes. Whatever. It’s not like he’ll be wanting for pussy when he gets to South America. Pretty soon, it’s going to be him fucking bitches on nude beaches, drowning himself in margaritas, blow, and pussy all day long. 

He doesn’t know what it is about you though. He knows you’re into him, even if you won’t admit it… 

It’s that challenge, that Latina fire that stokes his blood every time he looks at you. Gotta be.

He also knows that the moment he leaves, one of two things will happen. Either Vought finds you, or the CIA does. If it’s the latter, they’ll question you. Even if they don’t get the information they want, they could try to protect you and your family.

Regardless, Ben knows he can’t stay. That’ll just make things worse, for himself, and for you. All he can do is take advantage of the hours he has left here.

“Look, what’s your problem, huh?” he tries again. “Think I can’t show you a good time?”

You heave a sigh without looking at him. “It’s not about that, Ben.”

“Then what’s it about?”

“You’re leaving. You’re not going to stay and fight the deranged prick who’s on the verge of taking over the whole damn country,” you say sharply. “You’re gonna fuck off to who knows where, bury your head in the sand, and numb yourself for the rest of your life. So there’s no point in exploring you and me. I’m not gonna be some quick fuck and ‘Sayonara, sweetheart. Been a good time.’ No! None of that shit.”

That falls heavily between you two, even with the radio playing at a moderate volume.

Ben simmers in the near silence while you drive through the heavy traffic in Miami. You curse when you get stuck at an intersection. 

“This is taking fucking forever,” he grumbles.

You whip your head over at him again. “Okay, and? Should I part the Red Sea of Miami for you?”

“All right, Christ. Enough,” he says. He rubs at his forehead like you’re giving him a headache. 

Good, you think. The feeling’s mutual.

Ben crosses his arms in his seat and stares out ahead. Traffic is starting to easy up, allowing you to inch closer to the righthand turn. 

You blow out a sigh, contemplating the man riding shotgun. You’re not sure why he’s still here with you. Why he doesn’t want to just leave his old life behind and make new somewhere else. It’s obvious that he wants you, but does he care about you? 

There’s no point in exploring you and me.

You hadn’t meant to say that, but it left you with a sinking feeling in your chest afterward. You still feel its hold on you now, steely fingers gripping your heart.

It’s fucking crazy. You must be crazy…to want him to care.

But before you can let your mind devolve any further, Ben breaks you out of your thoughts when he points out a McDonald’s up ahead. 

“How about you pull over into the drive-thru there,” he says.

You raise a brow at him. “You’re hungry again? Already?”

He shrugs. You shake your head, but your lips begin to tug at a smile. This fucking bottomless pit.

“All right, I’ve got this.”

You take him to a hole-in-the-wall Cuban bakery. The sign is half-scratched off, but you know it from memory. This place has been here for over 50 years, since waves of Cubans fled the iron fist of Fidel Castro’s communism in anything that would float those 90 miles—from pristine sands, and the home of guava fruit, plantains, and pure sugar cane, to the rough shores of the Florida Keys.

Ben polishes off a Cuban sandwich and three guava and cheese pastries, washing it all down with three beers and a cigar he got by talking shop with the locals playing dominoes in the dining area. The men are old enough to remember him as Soldier Boy. Even though they watch the news all day long, they have a healthy mistrust of everything they see.

They're more inclined to trust the supe they watched and admired when they were young men, the supe that (they thought) represented the ideals of the American dream; the same dream they themselves had fought for when they arrived in this country.

“Don’t worry, we’re not gonna out you to the press,” says the only one of them who speaks English. “I’ll just get to tell the wife that I shared a cigar with Soldier Boy. She don’t gotta know when.” 

The other men laugh, Ben included. You roll your eyes. 

They talk him into playing around of dominoes with them, offering to “teach” him how to play, as long as he bets $5 to start with. You lean over his shoulder and help him make the right moves. Your dad and your uncles taught you how to play when you were a kid.

With your help, he ends up winning $200 dollars off of the old men. They don't get mad about it, all too happy just to spend time with one of the only superheroes they respect. You realize then why Ben is getting along so well with these guys; the man himself is at least twenty years older than them. This is essentially a group of his peers.

And what does that make me? you wonder, not knowing whether to laugh or be icked out. The longer you stare at Ben's profile, the line of his jaw, the cut of his beard, the roguish sweep of his hair and the shape and broadness of his form all too casually sitting in a metal chair, the more that thought fades to the back of your mind.

You focus more on Ben, specifically the way he's all too smirky and cocky and proud of his winnings. You’re amused at the way he counts the bills to himself later in the car. You’d think he won the lotto at Atlantic City or something. 

“Hey,” he says, earning your attention. “Let me take you out before I go. Call it a thank you.”

You give him an incredulous look. “You haven’t tested fate enough today? You should be lying low. Me too for that matter.”

“Relax, Chiquita. Nobody fucking knows we’re here,” Ben says, continuing to count his bills. He glances over at you though. “Besides, you’ll be fine, long as you’re with me.”

You consider him with a tilt of your head. Long as you’re with me, huh?

He wants to actually do something for you. More than that, he wants to protect you.

You fight the small swell of butterflies in your stomach. Matter of fact, you hate those little shits. A small sigh escapes your lips.

This guy is fucking exhausting.

“How many goodbyes are we going to have, Ben?” you ask.

He quirks a smile. 

“Just humor me.”

AN: Did you like the little scene change? I had to give things a more tropical vibe for Miami. 😉 Plus, we got a bit of the fake dating trope sliding in there, meeting the parents, some disappointed father syndrome -- checking some rom-com boxes right? 😂

Next Time:

You lead him away from the tight crowd on the dance floor and around the bar, and into a dark hall near the bathrooms. It’s still loud though, that baseline dropping as the DJ’s sirens go off in the club. 

Ben stumbles, his left hand shooting out to smack heavily against the wall. He dents the plaster. You quickly move in front of him and rest your hands against his chest.

“Ben, you with me?” you say in a measured tone. “Hey, you okay? You hearing me?”

His brows furrow in answer, but you can tell he’s not all there. His breathing is growing ragged. You feel his chest getting warm, and then hot. 

Oh, fuck, your blood runs cold. Is this the strange new explosive power that nearly crumbled Vought Tower? Is this club about to get wiped off the map, like that building in Midtown? Are you about to get blown sky high along with it?

Fuck that. 

You grab his face in your hands. “Ben, you focus on me, okay? Before you blow your cover. Before you hurt someone.”

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[bokettochild]

Do you have some hcs for Legend? I'd love to hear your thoughts on him :)

So, so many of them!

he's far-sighted! Due to a lot of adventuring and focusing on the far away stuff, he's actually trained his eyes to always be focused on far away things, and so now he struggles to see things clearly close up. he has specticals for it (Impa took him to get some when they were in Labrynna together) but he rarely remembers to wear them, and doesn't like to out on the road to begin with, as he's worried they'll break. he tends to forget he's wearing them when at his house though, so Ravio's really the only one who sees him wear them more than he sees him without them.

he's totally a bit of a history nerd, because I said so. It was more just stories when he was little, but between frequently interacting with ancient artifacts and architecture, as well as time traveling himself, Legend's become somewhat fascinated with history. he likes having all the answers (as most Links do) but for him, that includes knowing where things came from, why they were made, and so on

he's also a horse girl, much like Twilight and Warriors, but doesn't travel with a mount because it's less convenient. While having a mount in a Zelda game DOES make avoiding foes much easier, it also gets frustrating when you have to go find them again after doing however many things (point in case, my BotW horses are scattered to the four winds All The Time). Legend, who frequently is getting up and dropped in random places, doesn't like that this would leave any of his mounts alone in the middle of nowhere and thus doesn't take his own horse many places as a result. Said horse is Puini (OoA manga) and is currently housed either at the castle or with his grandparents (OoS manga). He dotes on her exceedingly, and being around Epona now reminds him of her a lot. Being as she's a literal war horse though (trained for battle with a knight) he has an inkling she would't quite like the mares of the rest of his brothers and leaves her out of the conversation when they bring up mounts

he's the OPPOSITE of someone with claustephobia! I have this fic I'm writing in my head right now where the boys finish their adventure just to get collectively dropped at Lon Lon with no way home, and have to adapt to "normal" life. A chapter of said fic (if I write it) would likely focus on the fact that Legend literally grew up in dungeons, like, his games have the most dungeons of all the Zelda games, as well as some of the biggest focus on dungeons, and as a result, they likely feel more familiar to him than the open world (and oddly safer, since they're predictable and follow Rules that the outside world doesn't have). I like to think that small, narrow, dark places would actually be soothing for him, to the point that, in the theoretical fic, it freaks the rest out when they find out he keeps purposefully climbing into dried up wells for some space when he's homesick. Maybe it's the inner bunny instincts, maybe it's a pre-existing trait that influenced the magic that made him a bunny to begin with, but Legend tends to burrow, and feels safest when he's in smaller, darker places.

He loves puzzles. I think it was Squido who said that we should let the boys enjoy their adventures, no? Let them look back fondly and smile at some things? For Legend, I think the thing he loved most about adventures with the problem solving, and puzzles are the best sorts of problems because you're guaranteed that there IS an answer. So, for someone who grew up doing puzzles most of his life (dungeons), they're a familiar thing for him and a challenge for him to face without actually endangering himself. he likes mind puzzles and logic puzzles mainly, but picture puzzles are fun too for him

Apple snob. He knows all the apple types, probably bred two of his own apple breeds somewhere in his life, and he has opinions on all of them

Nature boy. Not like Wild and Hyrule who like to get lost in it, no, Legend just likes existing in nature. He grew up on Orchard Hill, so gardening and husbandry are something he was raised to before the hero shtick, and he finds a certain sort of peace in gardening/plants. Also, he travels a lot, so he spends a lot of time by himself out of doors. Granted, that's also where a lot of the bad stuff happens to him, but the good outweighs the bad and I think he genuinely would love to go hiking or do nature walk sorts of things if adventure didn't scoop him up every time he left the house

Really big dancer. Mostly because of Din, partially because of Marin, and Cadence definitely had an influence too. Unfortunately, his mental metronome is set to the music pulse of Octavio's magic so he sort of just...can't keep a beat well without a lot of time to adjust. Once he's got it though he's killer

He can play a lot of instruments, but I really like the idea that the violin is his favorite. yes, he's got that precious ocarina from the dream world, and he learned to play one of those first, but like the idea that Uncle Aflon or maybe one of his friends was a violinist, and Legend just got dead set as a kid on that particular instrument. It's also a very diverse and emotional instrument, which grants him a lot of freedom of expression he'd usually not allow himself

He didn't speak his first word until he was four. Uncle Aflon kind of accepted early on that he might be mute, but as it happened, he just didn't feel the need to use words to communicate, since what he wanted was either always evident or could be figured out without him having to speak much. I think he was likely either mostly silent as a child, using mainly sign or other nonverbal communications, but if you want to make it angsty, I also like to say that it could be because his throat got messed up by an illness he had when he was very small so talking was painful for him. I HC that that changed after he traveled to Labrynna, because the memaid's curse didn't just give him a tail, but also effected/altered his voice, making speech easier for him but also making it to where he can actually cham people with his voice if he's not careful (which perhaps contributed to him becoming a harsher spoken person because then the charm is less likely to slip through on accident if he's being a jerk)

Continuing the speech HCs, I think Legend's tendency towards speech is impacted heavily by wo he's around. if it's anyone he met prior to Labrynna, or in Labrynna, he defaults to mostly sign, whereas if he met them after, he tends to usually use spoken words

Legend' far more expressive and open with sign language, as tone is very important and easier to navigate for him. In essence, it is his first language and the one he's most comfortable with

That said, with people he's truly comfortable with, legend's just straight up non-verbal. he doesn't feel the need to speak and usually just uses facial expressions and exaggerated motions to express himself. Being able to shut down the speech center of his brain for a bit is a huge relief and since those he knows well know how to read him just fine like that, it doesn't make much of a difference either way

As y'all know, I champion the Fable and Legend are siblings HC, though I know it's neither cannon, nor likely to be cannon in LU (pretty sure JoJo confirmed it's not true). Still, I really really like the twins thing!

On the note of being twins! You know how sometimes, with twins, one comes out stronger than the other? Yeah, that was Fable. Legend's actually the smaller/weaker twin, though not by much. he was a very sickly baby though. Oddly enough though, despite being physically weaker than his sister, he actually got the stronger of the magic between the two of them! It might even be possible that the strength of his magic might have been the reason his body is weaker; because housing that much power can put a significant strain on a body. Either way, Fable and he joke about it frequently, saying that as he's got stronger Holy magic, he should have been the princess, and since she's physically stronger, she should be the one with the sword. He doesn't mean it though, and is only playing along. Fable kinda sorta really does mean it though)

It's less focused on by the fandom as a whole, but in case you didn't know: Legend is more than just a polyglot! In his games alone, we see that he can hear and understand not only most trees (not just guardian trees like the Deku and Maku trees, but the normal ones around Kakariko too), but also animals, spirits, and literally forces of nature! Heck, the literal SEASONS coo about how adorable he is when you meet them in OoS! That said, I think he learned pretty early on that this isn't normal. Uncle started getting really worried when he saw and heard Legend speaking to what seemed to be thin air on multiple occasions, so he learned to just not answer unless there aren't other humans/hylians around

Continuing the previous one, this does mean that Legend has to frequently resist asking for directions from various passing by birds and animals, and instead just bites his tongue and lets Twilight go off scouting because explaining that he can hear voices no one else can hear is just....ot the best of ideas

Despite the rest of the heroes' being under the impression that Legend was an only child, he actually has Middle Child energy. this is because he grew up with Fable, Ralph, the Oracles, and Ghanti bossing him around/messing with him, but he also helps look after his neighbor Gully, who I fully believe he loves the same way that Wind loves Aryll.

While I have Gully on the mind, I think Smith and his wife have mentally adopted Legend and all but see him as their eldest, since Bertha (Smith's wife), also had a hand in helping Aflon, newly appointed caretaker to an infant he knows nothing about minding, with learning about babies. Legend however, dense as he is, still fully believes they just put up with him for their actual son's sake, since Gully clearly adores him so much

This shows up a lot in my fics, but I like the idea that Legend loves the stars. Like, tehy're the same, always there, no matter where you go. he's traveled a lot and been tossed into random locations where everything is different, yet whenever he looks up, there the stars are, the same as always, just from a different angle. I think Uncle Aflon taught him the various constellations when he was small, and maybe when Legend was lonely in his adventures he started talking to them like they could hear them (and heck, if the seasons can hold a conversation, then why couldn't the stars?). Also, you know the thing about how if you're deep enough underground and you look up through a hole you can see the sky? Yeah, he's more used to night skies and stars than sunlight

Despite being a traveler, he's actually got a palish complexion for his skin tone, since he spends most of his time underground. He's also a bit sensitive to sunlight all around and gets a headache fairly quickly when he's out in it. He hates noon time and would rather be sleeping than awake when the suns at its zenith

I've seen this one around a bit, but I really love the idea that legend enjoys wearing his uncle's old clothes around the house when he's between adventures. he probably keeps Uncle's pipe tobacco and other things stored with the clothes so they still smell like him even after all these years

He's entirely unaware of the fact that being on regular speaking terms with the Golden Goddesses, the Fates, the Seasons, the freaking Triforce, and most royalty is uncommon for a hero. He's aware most people don't do it, but it's sort of jarring for him when he realizes that the other heroes' dealings are limited to mostly mortals, and lowly ones at that, and that when they do speak of the goddesses, it's usually with some sort of reverence. Meanwhile Legend will and has insulted Din to her face for picking on him about his height, gossips with Farore whenever they run into each other, and the only one he kinda treats with reservation/respect is Nayru because they sort of faught each other that one time and while it wasn't her faught, it still makes things a bit awkward at times

He tends to chew on things when he's restless/agitated. He's not even aware he's doing it half the time, and has chewed his sleeves, hair, and various tools at different times. The Chain have designated bowls (Sky got bored) and his has very clear signs of gnawing around the edges. Same with any wooden spoons he's given (although, being as Uncle raised him with manners, Legend does carry his own silverware at all times, and thus rarely needs to borrow from others (it's a medieval manners thing))

Unlike the stereotype of men when they're sick, Legend actually gets really quiet when he's sick. Hyrule's the same way and it's mostly to draw the least attention to themselves when they're not in fighting condition. Usually though, he tends to take the 'sleep through it' approach, which is really a very poor choice, but as far as he's concerned, it's worked until now so he's not changing it

I think Legend's a very physical person, someone who likes to be able to touch and feel various things, and generally enjoys the idea of physical affection, but in reality balks at it because it usually catches him off guard. That said, he do be touching all the stuff and animals.

Gets weird about dodongos. he knows that the majority of them are threats, but there's always a part of him that wonders if some of them are like Dimitri, and it can be tricky for him to fight them at times

The early Zelda games are sort of wack honestly, but the fact that he's technically a telepath gets brushed aside way too much, y'know? Like, Legend regularly has conversations with Zelda and Sahasralah from miles away, IN HIS HEAD, and only uses certain stones to strengthen that connection, not forge it to begin with! Now, he might just be receptive to telepathy, maybe it's a twin thing (I have a WIP about that) but I think it'd be really funny if he's just sitting on that little skill and never brings it up because linking up (lol) thoughts with someone can be very overwhelming when your brain is already moving a thousand miles a minute, and trying to process thoughts and feelings that aren't his own gives him a migraine. So he just.... doesn't. Unless Zelda reaches out first or he needs to tell her something important.

He's terrible about self care and remembering his own needs, but will, can, and does scold others for doing the same. He doesn't even care that he's a huge hypocrite, not much anyway

Magpie. Boy loves his shiny things. Like, he doesn't technically need everything he has, and he knows most of it will never be used, but if it's pretty he keeps it anyway

I feel like Legend'a also got a bit of food insecurity. When he was a kid, freshly thrust into his first adventure and with the kingdom turned against him, he didn't actually know how to find his own food and ended up going hungry a LOT during that first adventure (which might have stunted his growth a bit). Since then, he's made a point to not only educate himself on what's safe to eat and what's not, but he also taught himself how to preserve and prepare long lasting foods, which he keeps a huge stockpile of. He also doesn't trust any food he hasn't watched be prepared unless it's made by someone he trusts, and even then sometimes his anxiety/paranoia gets the better of him. There were a few neighbors who tried slipping something in the meals they gave him under the pretense of taking pity, when in reality they planned to turn him over to the knights, so he's always cautious now

He's actually less wary and guarded outside of Hyrule than he is inside of it. Lorule is an exception because it's a version of Hyrule, but any other country is used to a very different version of him because Legend isn't always suspecting foul play in other kingdoms who have nothing to gain from his death.

He cannot handle blood well. Yeah, he's a hero, yeah, he fights a lot, and yes, he's frequently injured in battle or dungeons, but watching his Uncle bleed to death left him with a kind of hemophobia and he tends to have mini panic attacks/breakdowns when exposed to large amounts of blood. He hates it, but can't control it, and hasn't found a way to overcome it at all

After spending a long time at sea after Koholint, trying to find his way home, Legend actually really dislikes the taste of fish. He had to rely on his mer form a lot getting home, and fish has been ruined forever because it was his only choice for food, and eating it raw (mer) did make him sick a few times (he's still hylian at his core) so now he tends to get queasy when eating fish, just on reflex

He's a dead ringer for his late mother, to the point where people who knew her sometimes double take

I know Warriors is supposed to be the pretty one, but considering Legend's canonically had forces of nature comment on how pretty he is (I think it was Summer specifically, but it could have been one of the other Seasons), I think he's got a type of beauty that, at the least, appeals to the supernatural/magical beings. He's unaware of this though, although he'll always say Fable is one of the most beautiful people in the world, all while unawares of the fact that they're nearly identical looks-ways

He likes to doodle. Drawing more so, but e enjoys both depending on what mood he's in

Logically and artistically minded. Numbers bother him though (something Ravio, who is the reverse, definitely abuses)

He's one of those people who genuinely will be happy if you get him a candle. He's got everything anyone could need, but something that smells nice, offers minimal light, and he;s always running out of? Oh he loves them. He's very picky about what scents he'll accent though because his nose is very sensitive

He cracks his knuckles and rolls his shoulders a lot when he's bored/tense/stressed- basically all the time LOL

he uses sewing/stitchwork as a way to try and relax himself after a long day. it works half the time. the other half his thread gets tangled and he gets very worked up LOL

Secretly admired Sky's skills in embroidery, but doesn't have the patience to practice anything complicated

he loves to teach people things, but constantly assumes people won't listen, so he tends to break things down to bare basics rather than going into the nitty gritty like he enjoys.

Such a big sweet tooth

Genuinely hates the feeling of fur. Twilight's pelt bothers him, not just because the guy who turns into a wolf is literally wearing a wolf's skin, but also because the feeling of fur, treated or no, displeases him most of the time. He only likes fur when it's on something alive and moving, and even then, he's picky about it

Has a extreme fear of dogs. It's both from being chased by the soldiers' dogs, but also various dog-like things in the Dark World. Wolfie used to make him very uncomfortable before he realized it was Twilight

Fall boy. The other seasons would be offended if they knew he had a favorite, but I think his little apple farming, leaf crunching, bright color enjoying self would just adore the fall.

he LOVES the rain. His arthritis acts up something awful when it rains, but when it's not too bad he enjoys being out in the rain. That said, he HATES thunderstorms, less because of being struck by lightning (LA) and more because of the storm the night that his Uncle died

He's actually not fond of heights. He doesn't panic, but he's used to being very low, or even below the ground, so being very high above it unsettles him.

He tends to sleep curled up, he's not sure why, he just does

He's got VERY sensitive ears, both to touch and sound

Buck teeth <3

Also, freckles. He doesn't spend much time in the sun, but he does tend to freckle when he has. It also brings out some natural highlights in his hair, but he's not aware of that because it's not happened since he was small

Tends to sound like he's talking down to everyone, but in reality he's just never sure what all most people know about any given subject

Has such a soft spot for kids

He's a god-father to Bippin and Blossom's kid, and he adores that little munchkin, bordering on spoiling them.

Imma end it there because it's late and I need to be up early, but I hope this satisfied your curiosity a bit!

Thanks for the ask! I appreciate the chance to talk about all these ideas!

[mxesnupi]

boardwalk babe

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challengers, tashi duncan, art donaldson, patrick zweig, challengers x reader, slow burn, fem!reader, m4f, wlw, sfw, you decide what happens

an: yay, another fan fiction in progress! i wanted to work on a project that involves all three of our beloved little tennis players, because i love them all so much. leaving one out felt like a divorce </3

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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

two hours, that’s how much longer you had to work. after spending the first month of summer handing kids half-melted ice cream cones and questionable hotdogs, you began to understand the phrase “don’t mix business with pleasure.” you loved going to the pool as a little girl; but as an employee, not so much. what was once playing mermaids and lazy rivers was now sticky counters and spilling pickle juice all over yourself. but hey— you only had two more hours left. and then tomorrow, you would do it all over again. it wasn’t like those new clothes and coffee shop runs paid for themselves.

you stood at the counter of the concession stand, resting your face in the palms of your hands. the soft breeze gently pulled at your hair, some strands sticking to the glisten of sweat on your forehead. you spaced out, thinking about whatever crossed your mind to distract you from the boredom of work. suddenly, a large hand is waving in front of your face— instantly removing you from your daze.

“earth to (y/n),” you hear. you recognize the voice immediately. it’s patrick zweig, one of the lifeguards at the pool. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even though there was no true malice behind it. in the nicest way possible, patrick was just one of those boys you had to roll your eyes at and shrug off. “i’m here, i’m here,” you chuckle. you push the strands of hair clinging to your forehead away as you get a better look at him. his face was covered in freckles, the tip of his nose red because he refused to wear sunscreen. you guess he thought it made him look like some kind of loser if he cared about sun damage. he wore his iconic smirk, the kind you just know means trouble.

“what?”, you ask, a smirk of your own spreading across your cheeks. “why are you looking at me like that?” his tongue poked out to wet his lips before responding, “nothing, nothing…” a small moment of silence. “what are you doing tonight?”

a huff of air leaves your nostrils as your smirk widens. your eyebrows pinch together as you cock your head in a teasing way, “why, you want to take me out on a date?” your question is only half of a joke. patrick had grown to be one of your friends after working with him this summer; but the truth was, he was a true player. you wouldn’t be surprised if he was crossing people off of the work schedule, seeing just how many he could score a night out with. he laughs, shaking his head. he runs a hand through his brunette waves, still damp with pool water and sweat. “sadly, no.”

sadly. he was such a flirt, too frisky for his own good. you weren’t sure how, but you knew it would get him into trouble one day. you click your tongue, pretending to be disheartened about his answer. “bummer,” you sigh, “what is it then?” he puts his elbows on top the counter, his biceps flexing slightly as he leans against it. “some of my buddies and i were planning on having a bonfire at the beach tonight,” his smirk only widens, “i figured you were finally able to come hang with the cool kids.”

“the cool kids?”, you repeat, clearly amused by his words. he only nods, responding with an affirming, “yeah.” he lets out a small grunt as he pushes himself off the counter, “just think about it, (y/n)— it’ll be fun.” he gives the metal surface of the counter a firm pat, flashing you one last smug expression.

you have to stifle your laugh as you watch him immediately return to his lifeguard persona, chasing down a kid spraying old ladies, tanning reflectors in hand, with water guns. “dude! i told you if you keep doing that, you’re getting kicked out—!” man, what a schmuck.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

your favorite part of the day was showering after work. it felt as if you were taking all the weight on your shoulders and washing it away with warm water; work troubles, family issues, any other stresses that may be bothering you— they just seemed to go down the drain. as you massaged coconut scented shampoo into your hair, you considered going to that… what was it? oh, yeah. that bonfire that patrick was talking about.

although it’s embarrassing to admit, you’ve been pretty lonely this summer. it seems like work and preparing for college had taken up your entire life. while all your friends were going roller skating, visiting amusement parks, and attending parties— you’ve been watching them through the small lens of instagram stories, sulking by the ice cream freezer.

you decided that after a whole month of being a nonstop worker, you deserved a fun night out. once you finished your shower routine and patted yourself dry, you wrapped your damp hair in a baby pink towel and headed towards your bedroom.

you sat at your vanity, rubbing moisturizer into your skin as you think about miscellaneous things— the kinds of stuff you normally think about when you turn your brain on airplane mode. what you’re going to wear to the bonfire tonight, songs stuck in your head, celebrities you think are cute, coworkers you think are cute, etc. you jump slightly at the sudden ping from your phone. you check the message on your home screen.

patrick star

< hey hot dog lady hope im not interrupting ur me time lol

you’re already rolling your eyes.

< just wanted to lyk bonfire starts at 10pm not too far from boardwalk if ure interested. call me if u need more deets 😎😎

your teeth suck in your bottom lip before you look up at yourself in the mirror, then back down at your phone. you check the time— 9:32pm. damn, patrick, give a girl a heads up or something. well, at least now you know where and when you need to go. you quickly get ready; fixing your hair, applying mascara and lip gloss, and putting on your jewelry. after rummaging through your dresser drawers, you decide on a casual cami top and pair of jean shorts. that should be good. it was just a small hang out on the beach, after all. no need to go all out.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

the beach was quiet at night. whenever the world felt like too much, you would come to the shore and listen to the waves crash against each other. it was therapy in itself. as you walked along the long hill that framed the coastline, you saw a flicker of warm light on the sand. that must be them.

you kick off your sandals, holding them in your right hand as you make your way down the hill and towards the fire. once you finally reach your destination, you look around— no one was there… why wasn’t anyone here? the fire was still here. did they just forget to put it out? did they forget they invited you? maybe you should just go back home. it’d be better to leave now before anyone sees you here by yourself and tells every—

“(y/n)!!!” your eyes widen. a small yelp leaves you as you feel a strong arm wrap around your waist from behind, picking you up and spinning you around in a circle. once your feet are back on the sand, you whip around to see patrick. and, of course, he’s wearing that smug smirk. you assume the laugh that leaves him is due to the dumbfounded expression on your face. “what? did i scare you?”

before you can give patrick a piece of your mind, you hear an unfamiliar voice call from behind him. “dude, i told you not to do that! she sounded terrified.” you tilt your head to the side, looking past patrick’s freckled shoulder. approaching is a boy with blonde waves and mousy features, he wears a cream colored button down and blue swim shorts. you return your eyes to patrick, realizing he’s only wearing the swim shorts you had seen him in earlier today.

“ew,” you say, giving his shoulder a shove, “don’t grab me when you don’t have a shirt on!” he laughs, your attack hardly even making him stumble backward. “don’t act so prissy. you hardly ever see me with a shirt on.” you let out a sigh from your nostrils. you guess he was right— he was always showing off at the pool.

“don’t mind him,” the blonde says, putting his hand on patrick’s shoulder. “i promise he’s this way with everyone.” he extends his hand to you, offering both a handshake and a friendly smile. as you shake his hand, you notice the small callouses that line his palm under his fingers. maybe he does yard work or something? “i’m art,” he says, “you’re (y/n), right?”

you return his smile, a soft flush forming on your cheeks as you get a better look at his face. he’s pretty. “uhm, yeah.” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. before you can say anything else to him, patrick jumps in. “hey, art— where’s tash? i thought she was just grabbing lighter fluid from her car and coming right back.”

you look down at your feet, coated in a thin layer of sand. you feel slightly disappointed that art isn’t talking to you anymore. you don’t notice, but patrick catches a glimpse of this. he notices your expression, he always does.

art runs a hand through his golden locks, “i think tash had to run to the store. i’m not sure, i could barely hear her from her car while i was walking to the restroom.” patrick smiles, leaning towards you and whispering, “art has to go piss all the time. don’t be surprised if he’s gone for, like, half of the night.”

the blonde quickly raises his hand to flick patrick on his forehead, the brunette grunting and rubbing his hand on the targeted spot. “maybe it’s because i actually drink water,” art retaliates, “patrick practically lives off of soda and beer.”

as the two bounce back and forth between each other, you notice headlights on the top of the hill; the sound of an engine stopping and a car door shutting. patrick and art turn their heads to the red mazda like prairie dogs. “oh,” patrick said, “i guess tash is back.”

your breath almost caught in your throat as you watched the girl walk down to the shore, a plastic bag in hand. her chocolate brown hair swayed back and forth behind her waist as she made her way to you and the two boys. she was absolutely gorgeous, you were intimidated by her immediately.

she handed the bag to patrick, pushing it against his bare chest, “you owe me five dollars.” as her dark brown eyes locked in with yours, a smile spread across her cheeks. “hi!” she said, a friendly lilt in her voice. she reached out and gave you a soft hug, like one your mom would give if she saw one of her old friends at the grocery store. as she embraced you, the warm smell of vanilla filled your nostrils. “i’m so glad you’re here, i’ve been waiting for another girl to hang out with.” your skin feels hot underneath her nimble, freshly manicured fingers. “well,” she smiles, “let’s get this party started.”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

the hours seemed to pass by like minutes with the three of them. you all sit around the fire, passing around bottles of beer and sharing stories about each other. as you mingle, you learn that art and patrick had been friends since they were little boys. and they had both met tashi at a tennis championship. that’s when you realize that’s probably where the callouses on art’s hands had come from. patrick playing tennis was news to you, though— how come he never even mentioned the sport before? it seemed to be a big part of his life.

the brunette sits on your right, handing you a half drank bottle of beer. you press the lip of the bottle to your mouth, taking a small sip before handing it to tashi on your left. you turn back to him, offering him a lopsided smile. “how come you’ve never told me you play tennis?”

his usual smirk falters for a second, as if your question had caught him off guard. art interrupts, “patrick barely even talked about tennis at the academy— seemed more interested in girls and pissing off our coaches.” your eyes widen. academy? patrick went to a whole tennis academy, and no one at work knew about it. “i’m sorry- did you say academy?”

patrick throws a lazy grin on his face, “yeah. i was a pretty big handful for my parents, so they sent me off to mark rebellato’s when i was around 8 or 9.” you nod, soaking in this information like a sponge. you can practically picture him; before his growth spurt and hair untamed, a tennis bag almost the size of himself slung over his shoulder.

you turn to tashi, who’s tilting her head back to finish the last swig of beer. “what about you, tashi?” you ask, leaning forward so her can get a better look at her features. “oh, me?” she set down the empty bottle, grinding it into the sand so it can stand on its own. “my family couldn’t afford to send me to an academy. i’ve been taking lessons since i was able to walk, though.” she pushes her long hair behind her shoulders as you let out a small awe of amazement. you can tell by her smug smirk that she enjoys the subtle praise.

after a brief moment of silence, art picks himself up from the ground and rubs his sandy hands against his sides. the blonde then bends down and rummages through a backpack, which you assume is his. you watch as he pulls out a flashlight and a plastic bucket. “what’s that for?” you ask, chuckling. he pops his head up with a bright smile, “oh, i think i might go crab hunting.”

patrick belly laughs, eyes squinting shut as he leans backwards. “god, man— what made you decide you wanted to go crab hunting?” art shrugs, his once sunshiny expression turning bashful. “i guess it was before i left. i saw my old bucket in the storage closet when i was grabbing my sandals.”

patrick, still snickering, looks around the circle. “that sounds fun, but i think i’ll stay here. you girls want to go hunt crabs with art?” tashi rolls her eyes, “if i wanted to find crabs, i’d just ask you to take your swim trunks off.” your mouth falls open, you expect patrick to retaliate— but instead, he erupts with laughter. “i can’t even get mad at you for that one. it was just too damn good.” he says breathlessly, wiping a tear from his eye.

“anyway,” tashi grins, “i think i’ll have to pass. i’ve been wanting to go dip in the water for a while now, so i’ll probably do that while art’s gone.” patrick clicks his tongue, nodding his head as he redirects his gaze to the bonfire burning in the center of you all. “sounds good. well, if everyone is off doing their own thing— i guess that means i have to stay and man the fire.”

“or,” he says, lifting his head to look up at you, “someone could stay with me.” tashi scoffs, wrapping her arm around yours. “as if! (y/n) and i are going to go have girl’s time.” before you can decide between patrick and tashi, art joins in. “crab hunting is also open invitation— i promise it’s fun.”

you bite your lip, your eyebrows pinching together nervously. you’ve always been bad at making decisions.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

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an: also, thanks to @forgetmenotnympho, @tamprongsobsessor, and @2oul3ater for helping me come up with some ideas for this fic!

[520-elic]

heyyyy would you be up for doing some Jeff x trans man! Reader hcs? with a little extra dominant-top reader on the side?

Jeff x Transman!reader headcanons (sfw and nsfw) + a small one shot

Author notes ; YES YES YES YES THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST AHHH

Contains; nsfw, brat Jeff, dom reader, pegging, mention of oral (reader receiving)

Sfw

Jeff knew what he was getting into when he started dating you, and he loved every second of it. Even though he tries to act like the tough guy in the relationship, you always seem to put him in his place

Arms wrestling? You already beat him at it in a minute. Lifting things? He's turning it into a tug of war of "who's the strongest" so he could prove that he's just as strong as you. He takes your dominance as competition in a way

He doesn't mean to get competitive on "who's the more ruiling in the relationship," but he always tries to one-up you if you try to. It's been a while since he's been put in his place by another person, so he knew he had to get used to it

Though he does tease you from time to time, asking if you could pick him up. Jeff went silent when you took up the little challenge and actually picked him up bridal style

When Jeff found out that you could handle him, he began roughhousing with you, such as play fighting, tugging at eachothers hair, wrestling, etc. He wants to touch you in some way while having fun. Smirks if you end up pinning him to the floor

Nsfw

Holy fuck he's coming on the spot if you throw him into the bed. No, literally, it won't even be a full minute and he silently got off on you throwing him. He's not ashamed of it either

Since he likes to see himself as the top during sex, you will have to practically treat him as if he's a brat (he is) and shove his face into the mattress to get him to submit to you

Once you finally got him all ready after he's done thrashing under your grip, you get the strap out. Listen, he's never been the one on the receiving end since he's never gotten that far with a dude to have sex with him. It's a huuuge change of pace, but he'll reluctantly have your way

He's moaning like a bitch into the pillows or into the air when you peg him, his blunt nails digging into your shoulders. Jeff won't admit it out loud, but it feels so fucking amazing to be the one receiving

If you want him to suck you off, he'll be a dick about it. He'll groan and whine as if it's the biggest job in the world, but when he sees you just eyeing him, he's on his knees and lapping at you like a man starved

You two are like animals trying to get at eachother. Limbs wrapped around one another, twisting and turning while struggling to be on top, pulling and pushing, hair being pulled, teeth bared, etc.

Safe to say by the end of it, both bodies are littered with bruises and hickeys

"Jesus, fuck.." Jeff groaned, struggling against your hands with force, you on top of him. This all started when Jeff decided to rile you up; running his hands up your shirt, tugging the back of your hair whenever he walked behind you, just general shit that would turn you on and wanting more. But Jeff wanted to bug you, make you squirm enough to get inside your head just to leave you with nothing.

So now here he was, half of his face being pushed down into his own bed while you were straddling him. You conveniently caught him off guard and shoved him into his room to get your revenge. Jeff glared at you, growling lowly while gripping the wrist that was pushing his head down into the sheets. "Cmon, babes! I was just joshing around! Do you really think I'll let you have me that easily?" He laughed harshly, but it only led you to grip his scalp, the black locks weaving with your fingers.

After Jeff was done retaliating under you, he eventually gave up, especially after you began kissing behind his ear. One thing about Jeff is that his ears had to be the most sensitive place on his body, and it's not like anyone would try to touch him in the first place to find that out. But you observed, listened whenever his breath would go out of the normal pace it was in whenever you skimmed by his ears.

It was absolute torture for him to be slowly caressed down by your lips, your hands pulling off his shirt and zipping down his jeans. Suddenly, you flipped him onto his stomach. Pressing down on his lower back, an arch appeared as he groaned into the pillows. A smirk on your face. "Don't you dare move, or I'm handling your ass." You whispered with a smile as you made your way out and back into his room with a dildo and strap on.

Jeff's face went slightly pink, his eyebrows furrowed, knowing where this was going. "Aw, don't be so tense, Jeff!" Making your way back to the bed, you kissed down his spine while whispering sweet nothings against his pale, scarred skin. "I promise I'll go fast if you want, just be a good boy and be still."