#and keep him from going after a ram like an idiot

[redjaybird]

@general-kalani [from here- Ryder]

"Quiet? Right. But you know, the quicker they're down here, the quicker they'll die." Jay's an arrogant little shit. "You're an army guy, right? Why're you nervous about it?"

[bloompompom]

LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES

in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious

PART TWO - mine, just for tonight

⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, explicit sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, marijuana, high sex, mild violence, sexual harassment. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~5.3k ⟡ masterlist (2/4)

Eren wasn’t sure which mistake he was referencing; he’d made more than plenty along the way, whether it was agreeing to this arrangement or letting it get this far. Too far. To the extent that he was certain you had left your indelible mark on him.

All the same, none of it truly felt like a mistake. If Eren didn’t regret a single time he said yes to sleeping with you, how could you possibly be a mistake? 

The only mistake he could foresee was losing you, he thought, so he bottled his feelings. He tried to bury them as deep as they would go, but it turned out he could only dig as deep as a wading pool, unfortunately. 

But having you like this—glossy-eyed and moaning and below him—and only like this was better than not having you at all. 

“I’m—hah,” you panted. “I’m close.”

Eren’s hand on your waist tightened, fingers grasping to keep you there for him, but he didn’t change the pace he thumbed circles against your clit. 

The little room had become too warm to be comfortable. The skin beneath your shirt sweltered and the fabric suctioned to your back. You didn’t bother to take it off beforehand, simply tucking the hem under your chin was enough for what was supposed to be a mid-day quickie. Now it was anything but.

The dorm floor was always empty at this time, making for the perfect opportunity to get together. An opportunity that Eren often took advantage of, especially if it was a bad day. 

He didn’t outrightly tell you it was one of those days, but you sensed there was something on his mind he wanted to forget about, even if it was only for the time he was inside of you. 

Eren towered over you on his knees, his hips angled just right. Yours were lifted from the bed and rolling to meet his thrusts. 

 He looked down at you, eyes dark and smoldering with determination to make you fall apart again. 

Nearly lost in a hiccup of a breath, you moaned, “Come with me,” because you knew he wanted to.

You were right there, babbling a whispy chant of how fucking good it felt until you threw your head back against your pillow and let your orgasm overwhelm you. 

Eren found it equally overwhelming. Gentle flutters of your cunt turned maddening, clenching around the thick of his cock like you wanted to empty him. Three simple, yet hardly innocent, words were all it took to relieve the weight of his impending release. He pinned you to the bed with thumbs dug just above your hipbones, keeping your shuddering body pliant for him to fuck into.

“Jesus—fuck,” he drew out on a strained groan. “I’m coming.”

He rammed into you a final time, leaving your bodies flush with you grinding against his hips, prolonging the pleasure until you were both entirely spent. When he looked at you again, eyes that were once as dark as storm clouds had cleared.

Eren pulled out of you, cursing under his breath at the overstimulation, and rolled to your side. He reached across you to grab his phone, pushing some hair from his face before checking the time. 

“Shit, I’m going to be late for lab,” he said as he shot up from your bed. 

“Sucks,” you cheekily replied. Today was your easy day, ending at noon on the dot. You leaned back against your pillows, watching him toss out the condom and rush to dress. “Your face is a little red.”

“I’ll blame it on having to run to class,” he said, which he would undoubtedly have to do. He zipped his fly, then started doing his belt. “The new TA started locking the door after five minutes.”

You contentedly tucked your arms behind your head. “Then you better hurry.”

“And you say I’m the mean one.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and gave you a once-over. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you?”

You smiled. “Until then.”

‘Then’ turned out to be approximately three hours later. 

“Long time, no see.” 

Eren didn’t need to see you to immediately know it was you. He peered over his shoulder to discover you were closer than he thought, approaching his table with intention. 

Being that you attended a small-ish college, it wasn’t uncommon for you to run into each other on occasion, but that didn’t make it any less weird. He didn’t know how to describe it, but the feeling was similar to the one you get when you see a co-worker out in the wild—but worse because you were also sleeping with said co-worker. 

Poor analogy aside, what Eren meant to say was he always tried to keep these run-ins short and sweet and strictly business. But that didn’t mean he avoided you, even if he really wanted to right about now. 

Eren sat at one of those long dining hall tables, down at the very end, with Armin across from him. His friend’s presence complicated things for a couple of reasons.

For starters, Eren now felt he was under the same level of scrutiny as an animal in a nature documentary, with Armin at the ready to dissect every sudden movement or stutter. They had made it about halfway through their lunches, which meant Eren would spend the next half getting a free between-classes lecture from Armin about his findings on the encounter. 

By the look of it, Armin—who told the TA that Eren was in the bathroom and absolutely not running late—must have realized what he’d made himself accomplice to. The slightest grimace flickered across his face. 

That was the second reason.

“I was just about to text you,” you said to Eren. You laid your hand on the open seat beside him. “Mind if I sit?” 

Eren gestured a welcoming hand toward the chair. After a brief introduction—Eren introduced you as a ‘friend from class’ though all three of you knew it was a bit more than that—you sat down.

As you scooched your chair in and made yourself comfortable, you began to explain, “You know my friend Pieck?” Eren knew of her, mainly from what you’d told him, but nodded. “She’s celebrating her birthday tonight at The Library—”

“The library?” Armin appeared utterly confused.

“The bar,” Eren said. Armin mouthed an ‘oh.’ 

“Turns out her dad is friends with the owners,” you continued. “They let her rent out the place, so she needs to bring in as much cash as they’d make on a regular Friday night. I meant to ask you earlier but it slipped my mind.”

You said that last bit on a lilt, pointing a smile at Eren that made his ears burn hot. 

“That’s kind of a skeezy spot for a birthday party,” Eren redirected. He wasn’t lying when he said it. The place was a dive bar without any of the charm.

“Don’t tell her that,” you playfully said. “So does that mean you’re both out?” 

“Thanks for the invite, but I can’t,” Armin answered. He looked between you and Eren like he needed to explain himself to both of you. “I have plans with Annie.”

Armin started dating Annie about two months ago. Eren didn’t know her well. She had a tendency to keep to herself. 

“I’ll see what Jean and Connie are up to,” Eren said, because there was no way he would show up alone. 

“Cool,” you said with a satisfied smile. You planted your hands against the table, but before you pushed yourself up, you turned to Eren, throwing in a quick wink as you said, "See you when I see you."

After you left, Armin patiently waited for Eren to say something while Eren couldn’t even meet his eye. 

“You can say it,” he finally sighed, his voice flat and defeated. 

“Say what?” Armin asked. 

Eren saw past his innocent act. He sneered as he listed everything he’d already heard before, both from Armin and the others. 

“That I need to cut things off, that I’m handling this all wrong, That I’m stupid…”

Where Eren left off, Armin failed to pick up. The silence hung between them momentarily before Armin quietly said, “You said it, not me.”

Eren rested his elbows on the table and groaned into his hands. He couldn’t tell if his hands felt hot against his face or if it was the other way around. Either way, he was flustered and left completely unraveled.

Armin was smart enough to take the hint. Whatever ‘advice’ he had for Eren would be saved for another time.

Connie and Jean agreed to come, not that it took much convincing. They would have probably spent their night there or at some other equally-shitty bar. But they would have agreed to go anywhere if it meant they could finally meet you, the girl they’d been hearing about for ages. If it wasn’t for the emotional rollercoaster they’d witnessed from the sidelines, they would have guessed Eren had made you up entirely. 

Late that night, The Library was packed by the time the boys arrived, more than they’d ever seen it. There was no doubt the bar would bring in its usual Friday revenue—perhaps double. 

Jean leaned into Eren with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you see her?”

Disregarding that Jean was too curious for Eren’s liking, he couldn’t point you out even if he wanted to. It was hard to get a look at—well, anything. The lights were low enough to hide the dingy nooks and crannies, like they believed they could sell this place as anything other than a hole-in-the-wall joint that hosted throwing dart competitions on Thursdays. There wasn’t enough bleach in the world to rid the sickly sweet smell of spilled beer from this place. It permeated the walls and made Eren’s shoes stick to the floorboards. 

Against technicolor flashes of light stood the silhouette of a few girls atop the bar. Three of them, to be exact. Amongst them, Eren made out a glittery smile. 

Eren gave a nod in your direction. “That’s her.” 

Jean and Connie shared this strange look—an offensive one, if you asked Eren. Was it truly that hard to believe Eren had caught your attention? 

The laughter erupting from that end of the bar sounded defiant against the bass. The girl in the middle must have been Pieck—Eren assumed as much based on the birthday crown sitting on her raven-haired head. She held a bottle of vodka between two hands, angling the pourer (a telltale sign the bottle came from behind the bar, with or without permission) so the liquor waterfalled into the mouths of those crowding around her. 

In a sea of faces, between disorienting lights and getting swept up in your Coyote Ugly fantasy, you spotted Eren. You waved high above your head before climbing down from the bar with a helping hand. 

See? He had no trouble catching your attention. If anything, he had a knack for it. 

“Eren, hi!” you shouted as you skipped over. Your face lit up when you saw he’d brought company. Once you were close enough that you no longer had to read lips but could hear each other’s voices, you said, “You must be Connie and Jean.”

You were right, of course. The duo introduced themselves, telling you who was who. Between the words you missed, you pieced together why these two seemed so familiar to you: you had a friend in common, a very good one at that. So you proceeded to gush over your shared love of Sasha Braus—their friend since freshman year and your sophomore-year dorm neighbor turned friend after you hid out in her room during one of your roommate’s meltdowns. 

Eren hung back, watching Connie outstretch his phone to take a selfie with you that would make Sasha totally jealous, according to him.

The introduction was going better than Eren had anticipated. Neither of his friends had accidentally (or intentionally) embarrassed him. Any minute now, someone else would call for your attention, you would walk away, and they could—

“You know, I bet Sasha would love it if you came to the white party next weekend,” Jean said casually—too casually. 

The white party was arguably the biggest school event of the year and it had been for the last who knows how many decades. That was the first thing everyone learned when they stepped foot on campus, and the reason that some, the douchey-frat type like Jean, chose to attend the college altogether. Every year, big-head alumni and donors gathered in the name of philanthropy—a word that sounded pretty on paper but was a thinly veiled excuse to re-live the glory days. But at least it was a party for a good cause. 

As callous as Eren made it sound, that didn’t mean he wasn’t looking forward to next weekend. The event would be held at this fancy-schmancy hotel an hour’s drive away, constructed about as close to the beach as building compliance allowed.

Eren actually attended a wedding there once, in the same penthouse venue booked for the white party. Even with rooftop access, the space wasn’t that large, making the whole affair more exclusive than it already was. He only got to go because Jean was the vice president of the hosting fraternity, which was the same reason he held the prestigious honor of bestowing invitations upon those deemed worthy enough. They (the alumni) had blocked an entire floor for the members and their invitees to stay at the hotel overnight. It would be a bad look to have a bunch of drunk college students driving back to campus, wouldn't it?

Eren wondered what he could have possibly missed in the last sixty seconds that led the conversation to this point. When had it turned so chummy between you?

But you appeared just as stricken, your eyebrows giving it away by springing high on your forehead. Jean waved away your surprise with, “I’m only returning the favor for inviting us out tonight,” though it’d be a stretch to say the two invitations were equivalent. “Unless you have other plans.”

You didn’t. You hadn’t had the time to think about spring break plans with graduation right around the corner. Even if you did, you wouldn’t dare pass up the offer. It was on every student’s bucket list to attend a white party before graduating. 

“I would love to,” you marveled. Glancing to Eren next, almost like you sought his permission, you asked, “You don’t mind if I come?”

“Why would I mind?” The question confused Eren, who was already thrilled by the idea. Though he was mildly suspicious about Jean’s eagerness.

Oh well. That was something he could address later. 

“Thought you might want a break from me, considering this is the third time I’ve seen you today,” you teased, giving Eren a light elbow. In the same breath, you finally addressed Pieck, who called your name a second time after you ignored the first. You excused yourself with a quick, “The birthday girl needs me,” and just like that, you were sucked back into the excitement. 

“Oh, yeah. You’re fucked.”

Eren’s head snapped to Jean. Before he could ask what that was supposed to mean, he felt Connie’s hand slap the middle of his back, hard. 

“Three times? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Connie said with a strange admiration. 

“Once was at the dining hall, then the third time was now, dipshit,” Eren clarified. 

“You fucked in the dining hall?” Connie’s eyes widened. But upon further thought, his face scrunched with disgust. What could possibly be sexy about a musty, century-old dining hall?

Jean knocked on his friend’s head. “Do you even have a brain in there?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I’m using it right now,” Connie defended. “Jean, where would you bang in the dining hall? Personally, I’d pick—” 

After exchanging a look, Jean and Eren went to get drinks, with Connie trailing behind, shouting for them to wait up. 

Exactly two beers later, when Eren decided it was time for a third, you appeared again. You were at the bar, leaned up with an elbow on it, presumably waiting on your order. The only obstacle between you and your drink was some guy vying for your attention. He looked like a douchebag, but other than that, there was nothing else remarkable to say about him.

Eren’s pulse quickened; he could feel it hot beneath his skin. But as quickly as the feeling washed over him, he cooled it with a deep breath. There was no use in getting worked up and jealous over what wasn’t his to begin with. 

That didn’t mean he looked away. He couldn’t. Not because he was curious, more like he was watching a train wreck—the longer he stared, the more miserable he felt, and yet he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight. But as the seconds ticked by, Eren found he was no longer wallowing in his self-pity; something was off. 

He noted the intimidating size difference between you and the stranger—how he loomed over you. You were shrinking, backing away only for him to encroach on your space again. 

Eren hesitated. Were you really uncomfortable or was it that he didn't want to accept what he saw? He didn't know the answer to that, which probably meant he was creating problems where there were none. He couldn't go around making rash decisions off some knee-jerk feeling.

At least, that was what Eren told himself, up until the douchebag placed a hand on your waist, then lower, and groped your ass. You shoved him away. 

Eren couldn’t think of a time he’d seen you like that. Maybe he didn’t even think it was possible; you’d always seemed so impervious to him. But right then, you looked vulnerable. Absolutely stunned, whether it was from your anger with the asshat or your embarrassment from the attention accumulating around you—or both.

That was when Eren realized he wasn’t making it up, the moment your eyes locked with his. They went big, more white than iris, silently screaming, ‘Get me the fuck out of here!’ So he didn’t overthink it this time; he actually wasn’t thinking at all as he pushed his way to you. 

He all but put himself between you and the creep. Your chest lightened a little, you could finally take a proper breath again. Your escape route was in sight: Eren would wait with you until the bartender returned with your drink, then the two of you would get the hell away from here and forget this ever happened.

And that was how things unfolded—at least at first. Eren asked if you were okay, even dropping your name to make sure the asshole got the message loud and clear.

He did. It just wasn’t well received. 

He straightened out as if he believed it made him taller, like he wanted to browbeat Eren with his presence alone. Despite the snort he gave, he didn’t sound amused in the least.

“What are you supposed to be? Her boyfriend or something?”

It would have been perfectly reasonable, preferred even, for Eren to lie then. A little white lie that would do more good than harm. You wouldn’t have batted an eye at it. 

But he didn’t. There was a delay in Eren's answer. In that split-second, he convinced himself that a measly ‘yes’ would get misconstrued. That somehow, some way, you’d hear his confession in that single word. 

Eren’s brows twitched. When he finally opened his mouth, he only managed the words, “No, but—” before the guy socked him in the face.

“Does it hurt?”

You ran the tip of your index finger over his temple and toward his cheekbone, where a watercolor bruise painted his eye. It was a murky color, the color of water after you’d scrubbed the paintbrush clean, with shades of black and purple—maybe even some green. 

“No,” Eren lied as he winced. The tender skin beneath his eye crinkled like paper beneath your touch. 

You bought a soda from the vending machine in the lobby of your residence hall and made Eren use it as a makeshift ice pack. He did as he was told, but only held it there for a silent minute before giving up. He had it resting on his leg now. 

You took his wrist and brought the can back to his face before it became lukewarm and you’d have to buy another. He flinched again and you whispered a quick apology. You plopped onto your bed, sitting at the edge just beside him, quietly watching your swaying feet. 

You mentioned the silence not because you felt awkward or took it personally but because it was just another fact of the matter. You didn’t mind the silence, not with Eren.

Eventually, he sighed and asked, “Is it bad?”

You shook your head. “It could be worse.” 

After the prick swung on Eren, his buddies yanked him back—the situation would have been a whole lot better if they’d done that earlier. They needed to keep a leash on that thing, and you made sure they knew it, too. But despite your bark, you didn’t want Eren to get his ass kicked by three dudes, so you held him back just the same. You locked your arms around his with a hold no firmer than a shout of ‘cut it out!’ But Eren was one to listen, even to the quietest of pleas. 

A security guard rushed to kick out both boys, warning that he was doing them a favor by only kicking them out—and he was right. Even if it was just a slap on the wrist, it was also an undeserved fist to the face. Though you knew you weren’t at fault, the guilt still weighed on you. The guy who was always there for you, no matter the cost, had done it again. 

“Thank you for stepping in,” you quietly said. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Eren brushed it off. “I just wish I got a hit in.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t. You could have gotten yourself in serious trouble,” you reminded. 

Eren scoffed. “He’s the lucky one.”

“That right?” you teased. “Because you would’ve knocked him out if nobody stepped in?”

“Damn right.”

You laughed because you knew he was being serious. He smiled for the first time since you left the birthday party. A real smile. Big enough that it tugged at his fresh bruise and pulled a faint ‘ow’ from him. 

“God, I’m an idiot,” Eren said with a dejected laugh—but at least it was a laugh. 

“I know.”

You draped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into some sort of a hug, one where you rested your chin atop the back of his head. He looked like he needed it. 

You shut your eyes, smelled his shampoo. 

“What time is it?” Eren asked. He sounded as sleepy as you felt. 

You blinked a few times before reaching for your phone. “Just past midnight.”

He shed your arms. Neither of you addressed the length of the hug. He sat upright and said, “I should get going.”

Before you could think of the consequences, you blurted, “Stay,” stopping yourself short of snatching him by the wrist and dragging him back to bed. You inaudibly cleared your throat. “You’ve been drinking. It’s late. You took a punch for me—” There were a million reasons he should stay. “Please.”

You watched his willpower flicker. His eyes drifted between you, the floor, and the window overlooking the route to his dorm. 

“We could smoke? I picked some up yesterday.” Your voice dripped with persuasion. You crouched to the bottom drawer of your cubby and rifled around. You revealed your infamous tea tin—one he’d surely recognize by now. You held it on display for him, raising a tempting brow as you bragged, “New strain,” as if either of you cared about that sort of thing. 

Eren gave you his answer by pushing open your old, rickety window. You could never manage to get it yourself. 

You began to light the candles spread about your room, all three of them, only burning yourself once. Eren picked a spot for himself on the floor and you joined him, watching as he kindly packed a bowl for you to share. He handed it to you to take the first hit. 

What would normally happen next was easy enough to predict. And it would have tonight, if not for the incident.

Admittedly, it was times like these when you enjoyed sex the most. You liked how you felt then. When you weren’t fixated on the show—the production and performance that was fucking—but when you were made conscious of how the wooden stage felt beneath your feet and how the lights warmed your face and left white spots in your vision. How Eren’s hands traversed your body like he wanted to make topographical maps of you in his mind; the delicious heaviness of his mouth on yours. Time moved slower. You moved slower. Unhurried as you touched and tasted each other, not worrying about the finish line because you had let yourself get lost in the journey. 

You looked at Eren then, straight into his hazy green eyes, with all these thoughts whirling in your mind, and you didn’t know what to think. 

You brought the piece back to your lips, lit it, and took a final, deep drag before it was cashed. You scrounged together any incriminating evidence and tucked it back in your cubby. Eren shut the window and pulled the blinds down while you went to blow out the candles. Their burnt wicks and heady curls of smoke masked the stench well enough. 

Though it was not constructed for two, you squeezed to share your bed with Eren. It’d fit you both before, but tonight, it felt snugger than you remembered.

You slept restlessly, if you even slept at all. Minutes passed, maybe even hours. All the while, you stared at the ceiling, making constellations from its dated popcorn texture in what little streetlight shone from the window.

You suspected Eren wasn’t asleep either. He confirmed the hunch after you flipped to your side, away from him, and he pulled you in with an arm around your waist. His hand nestled beneath your tank top and pawed over the soft skin of your stomach. 

Before you could decide what it meant—if you wanted to leave his hand there or not—he started kissing you, from the cusp of your shoulder to your neck. Long kisses. With an open mouth and nips at your earlobe. You felt every sensation at the base of your spine. Another bloom of fire, another tingle of electricity—they coaxed your back into an arch, pressing your backside against his half-hard cock. 

Not a minute later, you had both slipped out of your bottoms. You were naked from the waist down, in an oversized tee you had hiked out of Eren’s way. His cock lay against the back of your leg until you lifted it, making room for him to push inside you. Deep enough for you to feel the stretch of taking him. Your breath hitched in your throat and left a bleary moan in its wake.

You let him take you then, slowly, with his hand still flattened against your stomach to keep you close. You’d never not used a condom before despite being on birth control. You’ve had your mouth on him, and his on you, but hadn’t felt each other like this. You’d thought about it, of course. How much better it would feel without a rubbery barrier keeping him from you. You craved it more often than you wished to confess. 

Eren pressed a groan into the nape of your neck, his breath breaking over your skin and warming what was already on fire. You reached a hand behind you, grasping and grabbing at him however you could, almost as if you feared he might fade away. Your fingers laced themselves in his hair and you didn’t let go.

The world spun around you, your mind blank to everything except how good your body felt—how good it felt to be full. Practically overflowing. There wasn’t enough room inside you for his cock, buried between your legs and stuffing you to the hilt, over and over; his two fingers, plunged past your lips with the pads of them on your tongue like a compressor; the feelings, big feelings, you hadn’t anticipated. All you could do was burst. 

You came then. Though it felt like lit fireworks or an explosion or whatever silly euphemism was preferred, there was a blissful silence inside of you. 

On the outside, you smothered your face with a pillow. You didn’t want to get in trouble for smoking and breaking quiet hours. 

“Come inside me,” you whispered on a flimsy exhale. It didn’t sound like you. You almost wouldn’t have believed you were the one who said it if not for how badly you wanted him to. You wanted him to fuck you through his release instead of his hand, just to prolong the fullness. 

Eren curled himself around your back, shifting inside you. The tip of his cock began hitting deeper than before. Your cunt squeezed around him, soft and wet and bringing him to climax. He bit a moan into your shoulder, his voice tight as it vibrated through your bones. 

You nearly had to remind yourself to breathe. He consumed you, your every thought, every fiber of your being, if just for a moment. The blunt of his teeth against your skin and the mark they’d leave, his cock throbbing inside you and spilling warm release—it was all so dizzying.

You muffled another whimper with your pillow. 

You wanted to face him, craving to look him in the eyes and kiss the bruise he’d earned for you. The thought made your stomach do somersaults, so you only stared at your desk with your back to his chest. 

Eren’s hand dipped below the blanket. His fingers skimmed along your front, down between your legs. Your eyes flitted shut and a gasp parted your lips. You were hot and swollen, sensitive to the finger he pushed inside you and, with it, his cum. Heat prickled across your cheeks—worse after he pulled your panties up for you. 

You breathed hard and in sync, bodies sleep-laden at last, from your heavy eyelids to your limbs that were too lazy to clean yourselves. But messy sheets and tacky skin didn’t concern you much. 

For the first time, you fucked Eren with more than just your body; your heart was all tangled up in it, too. The feeling terrified you. 

Tonight, you needed him with a desperation you didn’t know existed. Not to satiate some primal desire within you but desperate for the assurance that he was still there and he was okay and he was safe in your bed, with you. 

You didn’t know how it happened, but gradually, yet all at once, you knew exactly what you wanted. You couldn’t believe you had missed it for so long. 

What you had with Eren was such a fragile thing, easily shattered by acknowledgment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved better—if you deserved better—than to go on pretending as though there was nothing between you. 

The answer eluded you but the ache persisted. For now, you would maintain the status quo. You would continue to dance your delicate dance. To question it now would be pointless; your gut was already swarming and you were beginning to think you might overheat.

You kicked a foot outside the blanket and hoped for sleep to come easy, not counting sheep but the breaths against your neck as Eren hid his face in the crook of it. 

The next morning, you woke slowly. You lay there, eyes closed, and swore you could still feel his heat against your back. But when you finally roused, you found Eren had left, and he must have taken your troubled thoughts with him.

masterlist | more to come ♡

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.

[tokio-motel]

heyyy boo boo bear🥰🥰🥰

so i finally thought of smth(kinda did i alr send this) AHEM full band(separately headcannons cause aint nobody wanna write alat) with s bf who is a BIG ASS ppl pleaser(wait wait this aint the main idea)

so

imagine reader prolly always gets his back blown out but he's always giving the aftercare(like them mfs dont have a choice) and on one particular round or smth reader didn't tell them to stop when he started to feel lightheaded n shit cause he could hear them whispering how good this was etc etc so he was about to pass out or smth like that(he didn't he survived) yet he STILL offered to give aftercare like a mf idiot(me)

ANYWAY im in school but i had to give u this idea frfr

BAND X PEOPLE PLEASER READER

HELP I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA BE PURE FLUFF UNTIL I GOT TO THE FUCKING BACK BLOWN OUTTTTT

(contains nsfw themes so if you don't like that don't read)

BILL:

・He's 50/50 on noticing small things like this

・But he's in such a euphoric state, whimpers leaving his lips as he rams into you with his hands wrapped around your waist

・Listening to you tell him how good he is, but over time your words die down and eventually your silent.

・He can barley ask if your okay, nearly stopping his movements. He would've stopped completely if it weren't for you telling him to keep going. As long as he felt good, right?

・After climax (EWWWAHHH) he leans knto your neck, smiling as he hears you begin to ask that amazing question

"Wanna go show-"

"yes."

・He just likes your fingers running through his hair, massaging his scalp as you rub the conditioner in.

・He's been itching to ask if you were really okay, he doesn't want to seem too worried or overreactive. He can already feel tears prickling his eyes as yo hesitate to ask at the startxbefore admitting to feeling ill.

・God fucking damn it..I should've stopped I-"

"It's not your fault, babe.."

・Cuddling you for the rest of the day (or night), not being able to take his hands off you as he tries to make it up to you.

・No like...literally can't take his hands off you. If you eat later that day he seats you on his lap.

TOM:

・He gets caught up in his own pleasure.

・Like he won't really notice it when you slowly stop responding, or when you go a little too limp

・He's in some sorta headspace 😭

・Whispering to you how good you feel around him, how perfect you are..

・After allat, he eventually snaps out of it and notices how your barley making any noise or aren't talking

"M/N? .. M/N you okay???"

"Hmmm..? Yeah I'm good..wanna take a bath with me.?"

・During aftercare he keeps asking if you're okay under his breath, kissing your cheeks as you rest in the tub together.

・If you actually confess to feeling ill or lightheaded his heart stops for a second

・HE ACTUALLY FEELS SO BAD STOPPP

・Like he'd kinda try to hide it, but eventually emotions get the best of him and soon enough he's holding back tears apologizing to you kissing over your neck, ignoring you when you say you were fine.

GEORG:

・Like Tom, he's not exactly the best..

・Telling you how good you are for him under his breath, not exactly noticing you slowly stopped responding.

・Can't help but feel concerned, unsure if he should stop or keep going

・He nearly did, but your hand gripped his thigh to stop him from pulling out so..

・Afterwards he puts on your favorite show/movie, snuggling against you as he leaves kisses on your forehead.

・Doesn't ease into it and just asks you flat out.

"Were you okay..?"

"What-"

"yes or no."

・no

・He feels a lump build at the back of his throat, yet he still tries to talk to you

・Asking when or what made you feel this way, making sure he would never do this to you again

・He feels bad about it a few days later, even with your constant worss that you were okay

・He's scared to have sex with you again for a little...THAT SOUNDS SO WEIRD BUT IT'S TRUE?

・Like I said- he doesn't want to put you through that again

・but likeeee you need that dick so you convince him and it all works out

GUSTAV:

・HE'S TOO SWEET STOP

・He's quite good at noticing things like these.

・Stopping his movements when you start to look..off. Or when you just stop making noise completely.

・Ignoring your soft whine of protest, asking you "Are you good..?" ..no you're not. you're gonna say you're not and -

"Yeah I'm fine...keep going please..!"

・Hesitate before going back to his pace he was at before, kissing your chest and neck as his fingers go down your waist and tickles down your thighs

・Still concerned he can't really hear your moans or whines, but you said you wanted more so he should continue..

・He's sooxfucking tired after sex omg..hes surprised when you ask to give aftercare

"Are you sure? You don't wanna like..sleep?"

"No, no. Let's go get water or something."

・Giving you an aspirin and a water bottle as he gets a piece of candy, not being able to take his eyes off you as he contemplates if he should ask if your okay.

・he does. you answer.

・HE WANTS TO CRY WHAT

・Like..he made you feel lightheaded? He made you nearly pass out? He made you sick?

・Can't even bother to look at himself or think about him, only focusing on you and your needs as he spoils you rotten.

[petpippin]

୨ৎ sweet escape! — chifuyu mats.

it came first with the shoujo mangas he'd bashfully keep hidden under his mattress, vowing to never have that guilty pleasure slip to even his best friend, baji.

there had just been something about whirlwind romances, the fateful meet of a guy and a girl, destined to evolve into something deeper that set chifuyu's cheeks ablaze, having to fight the urge to grin so stupidly.

he'd always considered himself a tough guy, too.

hands shoved into the pockets of his ill-worn pants, hair put up in a way that looked so cool. (there had gone months before baji had set him straight with that awful 'do.)

but there'd always been something about those types of girls, that stayed with him.

charms that jingle as they skipped by, all soft-spoken, with gentle hands and tooth-rotting smiles. the type of girl that'd shrink under the scrutiny of bigger guys like baji, or draken, yet would curl up so perfectly in chifuyu's palm.

yeah. girls like that, girls, it so happens, like you.

which is why chifuyu is counting every lucky star in the damn sky, when you, fumbling with your hands, let a pink-tinted pencil slip from your grasp.

staring habit ramming into him like full-speed train, chifuyu barely has time to react before he's bending down, nearly making it a race, picking up the jingling little thing for you.

he nearly stares you into the ground, growing red and flustered, shakily handing you back your pencil.

"here's-- your-- pe-en-cil," it's a dire realization chifuyu is quick to make in that moment, that he definetly isn't making the introduction he'd desperately dreamed of.

but you don't laugh at him. you try to smile, just as bashful and shy as he is, just as quick to snatch your pencil back.

it's unfortunate, much to chifuyu's dismay, that mere days after your encounter, baji has him all figured out.

the red thread doesn't even directly lead to you at first, the captain's first clue being the few curious bumps along his vice-captain's bed.

mistaking them for the racier of magazines is baji's very first blunder, as it had only lead to a hefty stack of brightly-lit, cutesy cartoons.

chifuyu couldn't die with dignity after that, but he did decide to make peace with the humiliation that would come of his most prized possession.

it's a sacrifice he would readily make, but with you, that one proved a harder task.

stealing glances, touches chifuyu could sneak, noting each and every of your little quirks. baji has long dug his grave.

it comes to a damning head, one fateful day, one where baji has been smirking so ominously all morning, that chifuyu doesn't even know what to make of it.

they're waddling the dozey early-morning halls, only so happening to pass a certain someone that has him momentarily rearing his head.

that was what chifuyu had hoped, at the very least. a glance at the very pretty girl who's presence he had been graced, perhaps catching the trill of a new charm dangling from your phone.

and yet, with a singular, cunningly placed elbow to the side, chifuyu had went stumbling like an idiot.

knocking into you, death should've never come quicker. but such mercy didn't befall upon him, and baji was only watching on.

it only worsens when something falls out of chifuyu's pocket, and now it's your turn to pick it up. and by god, does he immediately recognize that awful handwriting.

you look up at him, suddenly turned all giggly, a ring so sweet it overrules any of your little trinkets.

you smile, briefly glancing over the note. much to chifuyu's dismay, it's littered with hearts and he's, unfortunately, actually able to make out what's been written.

something along the lines of. . . a confession.

time freezes for such a while that chifuyu doesn't know whether to cry or take off running, in a stupor only managing to freeze up completely.

an angel stands before him, the overhead lights suddenly simulating early death. was it just chifuyu imagining the heavenly light?

"okay. i'll go out with you."

you're grinning so hard your cheekbones ache, and chifuyu soundlessly crashes back onto earth.

the lights even out in the background, and he mirrors your smile with vigour, a short breath of 'really?'

chifuyu doesn't know who he'd rather kiss.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

would you ever be interested in writing a more masc reader? i kind of got it by know you write fem!reader exclusively, so i've been wondering if you'd write something along the lines a manly gal.

like the type that sees könig do his pushups, she must also immediately try to catch up to him? she sits manspread and wears manly clothes and makes everything a raunchy sex joke and has no shame and is kind of a muscle mommy and a total gremlin? something like that? and it disarms könig completely cuz he's used to damsels in distress, but this one can do everything herself but somehow wants him?? like an equal partner?

also can u pls tell each of your königs i love them with all i have? pls? 🥺 they're like my reason for living this past year i wanna give them a big sweet kiss and pet them

🤲 here, have an offering as gratitude. ignore the arms lol

Maaaan your offering 😭😭💖💞

And yes I have a habit of writing König with helpless maidens and sassy fairies don’t I 😂

So… König with masc!reader…. (Lol this turned out very rivals to lovers but I hope you enjoy!)

König can be a little off-putting. One would think that a man of his size wouldn’t get so threatened by a girl with some muscles on her... But you catch him mansplaining guns to you more than once, showing off his new rifle and then snapping his mouth shut when you fire a round of 5 bullseyes with a calm, stable breath and perfect posture.

“It’s nice,” you give it back to him, “but I’ve seen better.”

Knowing that you just threw his own words back at him – he’s always boasting on the field – König just blinks and grabs his rifle from you.

“...Where?”

“In my safe,” you shrug, trying to keep a neutral face.

And you’ve seen him during sparring, knowing already that he likes to one-up everyone. König is skilled and fierce, but he’s also competitive to the point of petty, which is why you’re amused when he suddenly turns gentle, even hesitant when paired with you.

At some point, it starts to get on your nerves though. It’s slightly insulting, even sexist, that he’s trying to treat you like a gentleman when you’re supposed to hit each other. So, you snap a good right hook through his guard and watch the man see some stars. Hoping that it would fix that attitude, you do it again, and again until he stops giving you the princess treatment.

But even after that, you see he’s holding back. The more you try to get him to attack properly, the more pissed off he gets, refusing to strike you even when you bring him down – a man twice your size – and gloat over him. His eyes are flaming because he just lost for the sake of some weird “I don’t hit women” policy, and it shouldn’t bother you. The man’s an asshole, what are you to do?

Still, it’s giving you a headache. Did you win the match only because he allowed it? You almost smack him in the head again. You already dealt with these kinds of idiots at the training program, and now you have to take shit from pros too? While you’re the pro? Jesus.

Determined to give him hell for the rest of the week, you make a lousy joke about the size of his gun when you go on a mission. It’s a bit unhanded, because this lame ass fool actually gets bothered by your quip, and you mentally beat yourself up for messing with your partner’s head before an important hostage rescue.

He barges through the door like a bull, and you purse your lips under your balaclava – on the other hand, is it even your fault if he gets killed because of some stupid Freudian joke?

This guy is simply too much fun…

So what happens is that you can’t keep your mouth shut. It’s horrid, what comes out of your lips when he’s trying to save lives. Things such as:

“Do you have your gun in hand?”

“I’ll keep an eye on your six while you take the women”

“Did you see their faces when König rammed himself in?”

The innuendos are obvious and rampant and so bad that König is surely blushing under that hood before you even board the plane. On top of everything, he rubs the barrel of his gun up and down in the plane because he’s so nervous. He does it absent-mindedly; the poor guy probably doesn’t understand the outrageous amount of Freudian jokes that could be cracked about that…

You try to pull yourself together after that because otherwise, people would start to suspect you’re having a crush on him. Army humour is army humour but you’re taking this shit a bit too far… Your jokes have never been this bad before, they certainly never induced such crazy behaviour from a guy.

...Because it turns out that you’ve awoken a demon.

At the gym, you see König watching you do pull ups – you’re the only girl there, yes, but you don’t wear some sculpting, seamless gym pants and a suggestive sports bra. You only have your old sweats and a tank top on, but the man's looking at you like he’s dreaming of either killing or fucking you. He's smashing the plates around like they've just personally insulted him, and glares at your way again, then lifts more than you’ve ever seen anyone lift before. He never talks to you: just stops and stares when you’re doing a set, then does his own, then glares.

You don’t know if it’s some kind of an awkward challenge or if he’s trying to flirt with you – menacingly – but you’re a mess after that gym session.

Next time during training, König personally offers to spar with you: he even pushes away the guy that had been assigned as your pair. And this time, he doesn’t hold back. He’s serious, and rough, and fucking frightening.

“That’s it, big boy,” you’re panting before half a minute has passed, “You finally found your groove?”

“No talking during sparring,” he grunts, and almost manages to land a blow – almost, because it ends with him on the floor. The takedown is something even KorTac’s best would be proud of, but he doesn’t allow you to gloat this time. Oh no: he rolls through it: actually, he rolls so that he lands on top of you, then smashes his whole weight on your chest to keep you down.

“Right where I want you,” he says, so brunt and brief that you’re not sure if you just imagined it.

“Is...that...so?”

You try to fight him in vain: he only presses you further into the mat and forces even your face to the side with his own.

“I thought you liked girls,” he pants into your ear, so low that the others can’t hear.

“That’s funny,” you whisper through clenched teeth, fingers curled around his shirt. “I thought you liked girls.”

You hear him draw air right beside your ear, and then – it’s unmistakable, the throbbing pulse against your thigh.

He’s getting hard.

The fucking moron is getting hard during a sparring session with you–

“There’s no need to crush your partner,” the trainer instructs, to everybody grinding on the mat in general, perhaps, but you have a feeling he’s directing the words König who’s currently choking you with his entire body.

“Is this what you want?”

He lets you breathe, only enough so you can turn and have another staring competition with him, this time with his mouth only a hair’s breadth away. Those eyes are hard as steel and as beautiful as snow, and that stare still wants to either fuck or murder you…

“Hm? You want to get crushed?”

“...Why do you think I joined the army?” You laugh breathlessly, eyes glimmering from mirth. He’s such a sight when he’s angry and confused.

Your cheeky answer only makes him more perplexed. Poor man – it’s so easy to tease him that you almost feel like a bully.

“That's right... Take your time getting up, there’s no need to rush,” you breathe, and watch the snow melt into a bewildered cerulean sea.

It sets sooner than you thought, his lids dropping as he settles to watch your lips, the heavy pulse on your neck.

“Oh I’m up already.”

[manlywitch]

ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ?

🫎Random bakugou smut... I'm down bad for him... And yanderes...

🫎Type of reader: sub Uke male reader.

🫎Pairing: yandere Bakugou Katsuki X male reader.

🫎Type: (NSFW) smut🔞

🫎Yandere themes

🫎Non-con (I normally don't do this but I was in the mood to write this..)

🫎Prompt: Bakugou finds out you were trying to escape him obviously angering him, now he's taking it out on your insides.

🫎If you feel uncomfortable with these kinda situations/subjects please don't read it, I don't want to make you guys uncomfortable.

🫎Everyone's 18+ in this.

🫎Surprisingly long smut part I'm proud.

🫎Kinks: bondage, overstimulation.

<this is edited since I couldn't stand how bad this story was>

Proofread? : ❌

🦝 ¸,ø¤º°🔞°º¤ø,¸ 🦝

He grabs the head of your cock squeezing down so you can't cum, you whimper as your orgasm gets denied.

The stretch burns, making you feel lightheaded and sick, barely able to hold yourself up if it wasn’t for Katsuki’s strong hands holding your body in place.“I can’t- please - I can’t- s-stop please... ” You babble away, mindless and pathetic, just how Katsuki likes it. This made him fall for you even more. Good job..

Even though you can barely handle it, you have to do this, whether you like it or not. And Katsuki had all the right to do so...He says, because you tried to leave him, you should be ashamed of yourself, right?...

{ You got yourself into this....After all...Why would you think you could leave him? Idiot.♡}

He chuckes, and you feel the vibrations through your body. You whine and choke on the thick air before letting yourself fall onto his chest, engulfed by Katsuki’s protective hug, this is his sign to know that you love him back.

|

He groans as his animalistic pace slows down, so does the grip on one side your hips get loosened up.

He looks at your face, your sobbing as your hands that were previously cut open with a nail when you tried to open the window were tied up to the bedpost. "I'll leave you like this...Then my little boy can't escape...Hm?" You sob as his pace fastens up again making your eyes close wanting this to be over.

You didn't want to receive any kind of pleasure from this freak, his maroon red eyes always glaring at you if you did something 'wrong' or 'bad' in his opinion, this 'bad behavior' then later got handled in this way by using your body as his personal sex toy.

|

He groans as his pace gets sloppy as he looks you in the eyes your <e/c> eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying.

He cramps up as he shoots his load into you, your gummy red walls painted a white colour.

He pulls out of your ass and looks at your crying and shaking form.

He smiles a sickening smile finding joy in you being marked up and in 'pleasure' just because of him.

He smirks as you let out a sigh of relieve happy it's done. Maybe you can even cum now...If he let's go of your cock then..Why can't he let go of your cock? ....

"You really think I was done? How adorable, doll..." he rams his cock back into your ass his cum going deeper into your ass as he fucks your ass hard. His cock thrusts at a painfully hard pace.

It was sickening, you wish you were back home where you would wake up next to your actual boyfriend and go to your job and have a peaceful life.

Now you had to live with this disgusting man, his intentions never seemed pure or good...

You thought by now that your boyfriend must've found another partner and keeps living his life like it was with you...Just like your other family members...Right?

Well...Not exactly...What you didn't know is that there's a crawling space....A great hiding place for bodies..Right?

|

As Katsuki kept fucking into you hard you didn't notice that he was holding a knife...

And he for sure will use it if you don't obey..

You felt a harsh stinging feeling in your arm...

You choked out as more sobs escaped your body, your head constantly hitting the headboard of the bed as Katsuki wasn't holding onto you anymore...

You looked at Katsuki who was glaring at you. " Pay attention to me" he put the knife away and grabbed your hip again.

🦝 ¸,ø¤º°🔞°º¤ø,¸ 🦝

He groans as he came again, his cum squirted out of your ass as it was stuffed full of his white liquid.

|

He pulled out and looked at you.

You layed there, your <s/t> skin littered in purple and red marks, your eyes puffy and lifeless and your hair greasy and messy from the lack of care.

Did I already mention that...Katsuki followed you around the house everywhere and whenever he left he would tie you up? Yeah...No way you were gonna shower around him.

He pulls his hand away from the head of your cock, as soon as he did that your load bursted.

White ropes of cum squirting out of your cock as you moan your eyes closed as you finally have a moment where he isn't touching you.

As soon as you were done and came down from your high he stroked your cheek.

You were annoyed by that antic but couldn't do much since your hands were tied up.

....You wanted to bite off his fucking finger.

He pulled away and looked at you before turning off the light and cuddling onto you.

The sun rised up illuminating your hickey and scar littered body in sunlight.

Katsuki woke up and whispered in your ears.

"Promise me you never leave me? Do you love me now....?"

Did you guys like it? Rate it in the discussion from 1/10 please... I really need tips or something..

This was the first time trying to write a yandere story I hope I did well!

Bye guys, see you in the next story!

[nyahchan]

A bet with Poseidon

TW: Poseidon x fem! Reader (18+), breeding kink

Part 1

:readmore: (SEE IT DOESN'T WORK FOR ME)

You had angered the Trident of the sea, Poseidon, your husband, it's all your fault,Poseidon is perfect as he claims to be, but you had to go out of your way and argue with him, in the heat of the moment, you said things that angered his wrath, his ego, his pride.

"You are my wife, you will obey me,this dress is far too provocative for you to wear at the party, my brother, zeus will be gawking at you, I do not want other men staring at what is mine, I am your husband and god, you shall obey my command, that is final" the god says coldly, his mere presence is enough to make people tremble with fear, fall on their knees and beg for mercy, and you , his wife, had the nerve to talk back at him, to taunt him, to mock him "what husband? What god? You haven't even gotten me pregnant yet, even after all this time, you're incapable of doing something so simple" you snark at him, instant regret in your eyes as you see Poseidon glaring at you with a gaze strong enough to kill someone,you have already triggered his wrath by saying something in the heat of the moment, but what can you do? You didn't particularly want kids but it was quite surprising you still didn't get pregnant after all the love making that happens almost every night, your body is capable of getting pregnant so it means that he's the one incapable of impregnating you "I dare you to repeat that" Poseidon said with his cold and angered gaze, cold sweat forms on your temple and you come up with a idiotic plan, you somehow had the nerve of underestimating Poseidon of all people "l-lets make a bet! If you can get me pregnant tonight, I'll be a good little obedient wife, I'll even wear a collar which says 'Poseidon's property'" you snark "but if I don't get pregnant after tonight, you let me do whatever I want" you look at him mischievously, being married to Poseidon sure made you cocky over time, you were a mere human who died and was brought here and you and Poseidon fell in love after a long time, maybe your cockiness stems from that fact, the fact that you were able to tame the prideful god of the sea "You.will regret this I promise" he said in return.

And he was absolutely right, you didn't know what was going on any more, babbling incoherent whines, moans and cries as you told him "s'too much", overstimulated as hell, how long has it been? 4 hours? You realized all this time Poseidon was always holding himself back as even after death, you're still a human and gods have much bigger cocks and bigger stamina than that,a frail woman like you would split in half if he used all his strength, even now, he's still holding himself back a bit, but even then, it was too much, so much more than what you were used to from him, he was breeding you senseless, you hurt his pride a lot back there, and you certainly regret it now, the room is filled with your pathetic cries and the sound of Poseidon's cock ramming in and out of your pussy, you deserved this... And you also could tell you definitely will lose this bet, perhaps you already did.. You've been stuffed with his seed twice already, you wonder how long he'll keep going

[myherotamademia]

Hello is it ok if I can request a bakugo x reader where during the entrance exam bakugo sees reader fighting and being super strong and he just falls in love immediately

If It Weren't For You

Sorry for the wait! I didn't even see this until recently. But, I hope you enjoy it! @ilikewafflesworld

Did I use Spider-Man's abilities because I'm unoriginal? Yep.

WC: 600

Genre: Pure fluff, just cuteness. But, there is swearing!

“Fuck yeah!” Bakugo shouted as another robot plummeted to the ground, his palms sparking. His breath was short, and his body was overheating. Yet, he continued. Just as he was aiming for a robot across the road, he was shoved out of the way.

“Woohoo!” Another voice popped up behind him, your body swinging past him.

“What the fuck!?” He yelled at you. The feeling of being pushed away from his target pissed him off. Before he could go after you, who rammed into him, the robot in front of him had fallen, shattering everywhere. Eyes quickly scanning the pieces of metal, he saw you standing over it, hand on your hips. String had been wrapped around its legs, causing it to fall flat.

“Sorry about that!” You waved at him, smiling. Your apology was genuine and it took Bakugo aback. During this test, he thought anything coming from the other students’ mouths would be nothing but sentences full of ego. Before he could open his mouth, your hand raised higher and you shot something from your wrist.

“I hope you do well!”

As much as he wanted to continue to search for other targets, he couldn’t help but want to chase after you. You’re the first one with such a simple quirk that impressed him. Figuring he’d find other robots along the way, he shot across the road, chasing you. As he continued to follow you, your webs wrapped around the limbs of every enemy you came across. Although he wanted to get as many points as possible, something about you captivated him. Deciding to disregard his score, assuming he already had more than anyone would, he sped past you with his sparks. Bakugo wanted to test you himself.

“Hey!” You giggled, keeping up with him.

Something about your shout brought a smile across his face. And for once, it wasn’t full of his ego. It wasn’t there because he was on the verge of beating someone at their own game.

“You told me to do well, idiot.” Bakugo called out.

The nickname made your heart skip a beat. It wasn’t malicious. It felt…cute.

“I’ll do better.” Speeding past him after your web stuck to a building several feet away, you took his breath away. The way the wind made your hair whip around, the soft smile that you had when you looked back at him, the huge spark in your eyes when one of your opponents was taken down rivaled any explosion he could make. And it made him feel light. Like he could float away when he set his eyes on you.

“Look out!” His eyes widened, watching you slam into a large piece of metal that had been sent flying your way after another student had destroyed a target.

“Fuck!” You cried out, beginning to fall from the sky. You were too shaken up to use your quirk. Bracing yourself for a severe fall, you felt two arms wrap around you. They felt hot. Like a furnace even. Looking up, you saw the red-eyed boy you were competing with carrying you. Sliding to a halt, he blew his hair out of his face.

“You okay?” Bakugo felt weird asking someone else if they were okay. He had realized that it’s something he doesn’t normally do and it made him reevaluate himself.

“Well, if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be.” 

Setting you down on the ground, he rolled his eyes at you. But, he felt his insides flipping around. He didn’t know what was happening. His heart wasn’t supposed to beat this fast. His hands weren’t supposed to shake like this. He was supposed to be calm, collected, focused.

“Then get your ass up, I still have to beat you.”

“Good luck…?” You didn’t even know your hero’s name.

“...Katsuki.” He whispered at you before taking off.

“Good luck, Katsuki.”

[luce-speaks]

kliff and the friends

last minute submission for day two of @fe-aspec-week 2024!! this one is a little thrown together because i had an idea at the last minute but! here goes!!

—

Kliff has never been particularly fond of other people.

He used to think he just got unlucky, stuck in a tiny village where no one understood the concept of personal space. He dreamed of the day he’d escape them, get out, go anywhere but here, and meet people who were actually decent.

Then he started going to school in the next town over, and with each new person he met, that dream died in front of him. Each and every one of them—over-familiar like Gray, clumsy like Tobin, naive like Alm, or disgustingly romantic like Faye. He hated it. He came back to Ram Village with a disappointed letter from his teacher and a new will to tolerate these idiots so he could safely ignore the rest. He might not fit in, but at least they know him well enough to leave him alone while he’s reading.

—

The war comes on suddenly, like a storm rolling in overnight, and things change. Kliff learns what fire spells can do to a human being, and Gray stops joking about hitting Tobin with his sword, and Faye picks up a lance for the first time, insisting she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her friends. Tolerable acquaintances become battle-allies, people you can trust to have your back. People who could die beside you, any day. There’s no room out here for petty bickering, but sometimes it also feels like there’s no room to get attached. When the war is over, Kliff thinks, they’ll go their separate ways. He probably won’t even miss them.

—

Tobin flags him down at camp one day. “Hey, Kliff!”

He rolls his eyes. “Tobin. I thought you knew not to interrupt me while I’m studying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have questions about magic! That counts as study time, right?”

Now Kliff is intrigued, though he refuses to give Tobin the satisfaction. “Since when do you care about magic? I thought it was too complicated for you.”

Tobin settles beside him, keeping a safe distance, but not bothering to ask whether he minds the company. “Well, I don’t really get it. But I want to learn. You know—for the war.”

He sighs. “I don’t know what Alm or Gray did this time, but you’re better with a bow than you’re ever going to be with magic. Focus on getting better at that.”

“Healing magic,” Tobin corrects. “I want to learn healing.”

“What? Why?”

“C’mon, seriously? I’m worried about you guys! I want us to go back to Ram when this is all over—all of us, together. Even if we’re not all planning to stay.”

“…All right, then. I can try to teach you.” Kliff grins. “Though I wouldn’t count on your ability to learn it.”

—

Faye catches him off guard in the middle of an overcrowded mess hall. She’s saying something, but he can’t understand her over the din of too many hungry soldiers. Eventually, she gives up and beckons to the door.

Kliff follows her, plate in hand, out to the cool night air. “What was that for?”

She shrugs. “You looked like you wanted to go outside.”

“I—” He pauses. Mess hall never used to bother him more than any other time around camp, but now that they’ve been getting more recruits, it has been getting louder and louder. He’s never liked loud noises, either. “I guess I did.”

Faye walks a little farther away from the tent, towards the woods. He follows her, and they settle together at the forest’s edge—still in earshot of the camp, but safely away from the clamor of the mess hall.

“I miss Ram,” Faye says quietly, after they’ve been eating for a bit. “Seeing this many people in one place reminds me how far we are from home.”

Kliff snorts. “It just reminds me of school. They always crammed too many people into the common areas for lunch.”

���So you didn’t like leaving then, either?”

“I liked going to school,” he answers. “I didn’t like the people there.”

“What kind of people do you like?”

He thinks on this. “The quiet kind.”

Faye smiles and nods. They eat the rest of their meal in silence.

—

Gray looks out for him during fights.

At first he’s convinced Gray is just showing off, jumping in dramatically and kicking down a mage in mid-chant before they can fire another spell at Kliff. But then it happens a second time, and a third time, and Kliff is more than certain that it’s intentional.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Kliff says, the next time Gray takes a blow for him.

“Do what?” Gray asks. “Look super cool while I’m saving the day?”

Kliff regrets that Gray is too focused on the battle to see him roll his eyes. “Protect me. I can look out for myself.”

“Oh, that? I’m just practicing for next time one of the girls needs saving.” Gray pauses to skewer another incoming mage. “Gotta keep my skills sharp and all that!”

“Gray, I’m serious. Can you stop joking around?” Kliff fires off another spell, stopping an approaching cavalier in their tracks. Now there are no more distractions—Gray will have to talk to him.

Gray turns to face him. “Look, I know you can take it, okay? But that’s not your job. If you’re up in the front lines taking hits, you won’t have the energy to cast your spells. So you do your job, and I’ll do mine, yeah?”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“Great! Now how about a ‘thank you’ for saving your ass?”

“In your dreams.”

—

Alm brings him a book from town.

“Here,” he says, unloading it off a pile of rations and weapons. “They had this on sale at one of the booths. I thought you might get some use out of it.”

Kliff inspects it. It’s a neatly-bound red tome, with gold embossing on the front. It looks well-used, but it’s holding together nevertheless. He flips it open, skimming the table of contents, and frowns.

“I hate to break it to you, but this is a book on magical theory. It’s not going to teach me anything I don’t already know about battle casting.”

Alm looks a little offended. “I know,” he says. “I just figured you would like it. You liked learning about magic at school, didn’t you?”

“I did, but—” He frowns again, turning the book over anxiously in his hands. “We’re in the middle of a war. Did you spend army funds on this?”

“Don’t worry, I spent my own money on it. No funds wasted.”

“But—” Kliff stammers. “Why? What’s the point? What do you get out of this?”

Alm sighs. “It’s just a gift. We may be at war, but we’re still people. I want you guys to be happy—at least, when we’re not having to kill people.”

“Oh,” Kliff says. “Uh. Thanks.”

Alm smiles, bright as ever. “Any time.”

—

The war continues, and Kliff keeps dreaming about the places he’ll go once he’s free to travel as he pleases. He’s not sure what kind of people he’ll meet out there, but—he thinks—if they’re anything like the ones he met in Ram Village, he hasn’t got anything to worry about. Other people may be unpleasant—clumsy, naive, romantic, and over-familiar—but they’re still worth knowing, every once in a while.

[star-quill]

been thinking abt bartender!peter again.......

he works at a trashy bar, just on the edge of town. he lives in a pretty much, almost rundown trailer park. he smokes weed, he drinks beer and whiskey. he does work out occasionally, still trying to keep himself fit and active.

your parents live in the trailer park too, across from him. you visit occasionally, usually over the summer. there's a nice lake behind the park and you spend most of the time down there, swimming or laying on the grass beside it, getting a tan. but you're really there to see peter. you drunkenly made out with him last summer, on your last night. it plagued your mind the whole time you were back at your flat in the city. he was rough, smelt of whiskey and weed, and you were hooked. so you made plans to go over and see him as many times as you could this summer.

and he fucked you so good, hand wrapped around your throat or fisted in your hair, whatever it was, he had you whining and grasping at his sheets while he plowed into you from behind. he called you baby, honey, sweetheart. you called him peter until you cried out and called him daddy. then he was gone, he went rougher, fucked you until you cried, until tears were forming at your eyes.

you were so pretty for him, acted so innocent, even the morning after you slept with him. you would go and see him at the bar he worked at, sitting on a bar stool watching him work. then he'd sneak you to the bathroom and bend you over the sink, hands on your waist as he rammed into you. your hands were fumbling on the edge of the counter, trying to keep yourself standing up. and your parents never suspected a thing.

"pretty girls like you shouldn't be gettin' involved with guys like me.. but you fuckin' love it, don't ya?"

"mmhm.. you fuck me so good.."

but then one night you're at his place, curled up on the couch, leaning into his side while he flicks through the tv channels. you mention that it's your last night here tomorrow and he just smiles, asks if you want a recreation of last year. you just smile and laugh, then lean up to kiss his cheek and you swear you saw him blush, just a little. he turns to you and cups your face, pulling you in for a proper kiss, and it's so nice. he's so gentle, soft, loving. and all of a sudden you're crying. he pulls away and holds your face, trying to wipe away your tears.

"honey, what's wrong? are you ok?"

"i don't wanna go.. don't wanna leave you.."

"then stay.."

"i can't.. you know i can't.."

he just lifts you onto his lap and pulls you in, letting you sob into his neck. he rubs your back while you cry and then you have an idea, you sit up and grin at him, wiping your tears away.

"come live with me.. out in the city.."

"babe.. i got a life here, i got my job.."

"there's plenty of bars in the city, pete.."

he sits back, takes your hands in his and smiles.

"i.. i don't know.. what would your parents even think?"

"i don't care.. let's just do this.. think of all the fun we can have.. together.."

"like what?"

you get up off him, pull on his hands and drag him up off the couch too. you leave him standing for a moment, turning to walk towards his record player and putting an old vinyl on, placing the needle down and turning it on. then you turn back to him, grinning as you take his hands, swaying them to the music.

"we can make out.. cook dinner together.. sit on the balcony and watch the city go by.. we can.. dance like this at 3am when we both can't sleep.. get greasy takeout food after a late night of you working at a bar downtown and sit and watch trashy reality shows.. we can be in love, pete.. i want everything with you.."

"y-yeah?"

you notice he's starting to tear up, imagining all the aforementioned things with you and he's grinning like an absolute idiot.

"yeah.."

"i.. i want that too.."

"so..?"

"alright.."

he pulls you in and kisses you softly.

"let's do this.."

[shut-up-rabert]

I read the recent post and I hope no hate anon is approaching you because I will bring my steel tupperware bottle

Anyway I am really glad that people like you and @lil-stark didi exist. I do not have much knowledge about the political power and parties and especially about the kashmiri pandit issue who was ruling who belonged to which party so I don't speak about this but people who downplay the atrocities that happenes with those pandits deserve a special place in hell. Like think you are moved away from your land by force, by brutal killing and rapes only after some years to hear a random person on the internet say yaar utna bhayankar bhi nahi hua tha and it's a propaganda

The amount of misinformation these so called modern radical folks have is hilarious. Ghanta ramayan mahabharat padhi kahin koyi translation chipka. Not so sweet61 posted that ss of ram following manu, if they really did Vashishtha wouldn't have asked for sita to be the commander of ayodhya instead of leaving with ram.

And Manusmriti itself contradicts the vedas and upanishads. We have had a culture that promoted women scholars, encouraged debate and questioning, and lol as if one could be a brahmin just because they were born in a family. You had to have those qualities to be that and then can you be one. It's as similar to a person being a warrior. Not everybody can be one. You need to train and practice for it. It's good that if you are born in one that way you have an exposure to the respective field just like today if I am born in a house full of doctors, I would have much knowledge about the study, expenses and related stuff to medicine.

Just like every culture every community has good and bad things, sees its rise and fall, we Hindus have seen too. From an era where it was encouraged for a woman to be a brahmavadini, we became resentful at the thought of sending girls to school. We forgot how the texts told to respect each and every person irrespective of their social status to discriminating them on basis of caste and there are all so many issues that we need to address too.

But majal hai that I will sit quietly and see these random people on the internet speak about my culture and insult it. From North to south east to west, Rama and Krishna have been worshipped and always will be. We will always look upto them and learn from them.

In the recent years, the youth of today apart from some dumb idiots who have bhagwan rama in their pfp and comment women tea on every post, I am happy to see that teens are taking interest to read and learn our own Indian history and scriptures. I am not seeing them blindly accept everything. I have seen them ask questions which might be considered 'blasphemous' by the elders but the vedas themselves promote curiousity, questioning and debate as the best way to gain knowledge. And I hope the younger gen keeps going in this path.

(You can respond to this ask in private varna tere piche hate anons aa skte hai)

Seriously, why did Ram, who supposedly followed Manusmriti marry a woman who was a scholar, a warrior, capable of lifting Shiva’s Dhanush and encouraged her to remain her brave, outspoken self because that’s who she was? Why request her to stay in the palace when Manu says that a woman should always be observed? Why give in to all her requests and respect her decisions when Manu says that a woman is mentally incapable of making sound decisions? Why be happy and praise her when she slays Sahastra Raavan?

If Manusmriti was truly being followed, why did the biggest scholar in that entire story, Janak, have his daughters educated, that too by a scholar woman like mata Gargi? Why train them in warfare? Why Did Dashrath bring Kekayi to war with him? Why did Dashrath request the hands of women, who impressed him by thier knowledge, for his sons? And like you pointed out, why offer a woman the position of commander??

If caste was the way Manusmriti says, why was Shabri, a lower caste woman, visited by the lord and sent to heaven? Why did he make a big show of letting the arrogant priests who looked at Shabri with scorn know that she is purer than them by making her touch clean the pond?

Why did Shri Krishna say that a true pandit (knowledgeable person) would see a Brahmin and a Chandala equally? Why did he say he resides in everyone equally, women and Shudras included? Why did the Vedas that are supposedly off limit for Shudras say this?

Manusmriti is not a scripture, it condradicts the Vedas themselves, when it comes to women’s education, the position of women (there is an exceprt where a warrior queen is mentioned), and being for everyone. Apparently women cannot read Vedas even though the Vedas speak to them directly in multiple excerpts? (Oh men and women, oh women etc,) Shudras Cannot read Vedas even though the Vedas say they are for everyone, Shudras included?

Even if you look at other works of the time, like Kamasutra, which technically is somewhat of a scripture in some parts where it discusses philosophy, because its prologue says it was first written by lord Nandi. Manusmriti thorughly contradicts that aswell.

Oh, and Kamasutra was written after Manusmiriti, And Ramayan and Vedas before it, and all of these except Manusmriti are now engraved on temple walls, so you can clearly see which ones of the restrictive and liberating philosophy was preffered by Hindus at large throughout.

If Casteism was so prominent and rigid, how did a shudra become the partriarch of the biggest empire in mainland India?

Chandragupta Maurya was either clanless or a Shudra, and the current existence of Maurya tribe in Bihar enforces the second one. How did he make it to the top, that too with the help of a Brahmin, if things were as dire? Same can be said for

How was Queen Durgavati’s Father in Law able to change himself into a Rajput despite being a tribal?

How was Vishwamitra, a born Kshatriya able to be a Rishi? How was Lord Parshuram, a born Brahmin revered on a higher level than most Kshatriyas in warfare and was able to put the fear of lord in their hearts?

How was rishi Matang able to be a brahmin despite being born a Shudra?

How was Mātang blessed with goddess Saraswati as a daughter?

How did Lord Gorakhnath become such a prominent saint?

How was VedVyas, son of a Fisherwoman, able to be a sage? How were children of Satyavati able to be kings?

How did the founder of Raghukul become a Kshatriya after becoming a king when he was born a Brahmin?

How was Lord Krishna happily doing the physical labour of a cowkeeper, like a shudra, while living in a vaishya community, despite being born a kshatriya?

I honestly have no more questions to ask that I can think of right now, and I honestly cannot agree more with everything you say. Slay girl💅🏻

I think its better if I make the answer public, simply because I ranted in public so the follow up doesn’t change much, and this is something people should see. But girl, thankyou so much for being worried <3

[hermitdrabbles56]

Give me two dumbasses with self-sacrificing/people pleasing issues trying to look after each other while also bitching like an old married couple.

Give me Wars and Twilight butting heads like rams because they're both stubborn but both worried and determined to look after each other and everyone else at the same time.

Twilight has more of the self-sacrificing problems but they are both people pleasers and its a dangerous combo.

Twilight will flat out ignore his limits/hide wide spread bruises and injuries he deems insignificant and focus his attention on others even when his own bones are going snap crackle pop from head to toe and he aches worse than Legend and Time together. Be it fixing gear, soothing the others while they struggle with nightmares or chronic pain/headaches or just aches from the day. Just as long as he's helping them.

Meanwhile Warriors just doesn't have a grasp of his limits sometimes just forges ahead with task after task to keep himself busy and help and be effective and efficient. He stress projects and hyperfixates and forgets himself in the mix. He's bit great with the feelings but any other little problem he can help with he will.

Twilight catches him swaying and wrestles a bowl of food into him and pins him to his bedroll if he has to.

Then next day Warriors notices Twilight isn't waking at the ass crack of dawn for fucking once and has to keep the tired idiot from wearing himself out giving piggyback rides and doing all of the scouting on his own while hearding all of the teenagers.

A back and fourth dance ensuing and no one can really tell if they're helping each other or at each other's throats in the most passive aggressive way possible. Least until the chain finds the two of them passed out in bedroll together utterly exaughsted but finally sleeping at the least.

[rubylarkspur22]

Can we hear more about co-protagonists Tanjiro and Nezuko?

(i need to hear about the sass Nezuko will spill during the Hashira meeting)

Oh, of course!!

So! Nezuko wakes up from her coma, a little confused from her just waking(AKA the "I Just Woke Up After A Very Nice Sleep, And My Brain is Still Addled" Brain). So, she's a little confused as to why a chunk of bamboo is stuck in her mouth, and just... rips it off. And then promptly realizes her canines are significantly sharper than they're supposed to be. Noise gets her attention, and she meets the wooden eyes of Urokodaki's tengu mask.

This leads to a lot of questions while they wait for Tanjirou to come back. She definitely wasn't happy when she found out Tanjirou got sent to a mountain packed with feral and starved demons, and demands to know why her kind brother, who would never hurt a fly unless said fly swung first and hurt someone he cared for, is being sent to commit violence. Cue another long explanation about what she missed. After a minute, her brain catches up and, "Oh, yeah! I remember that dickwad! B****** just waltzed like he owned the place, too! Never caught his name, though." After those conversations, she notices Urokodaki praying for her brother's safety, and starts doing the same. She only hopes Hinokami is willing to protect her big brother now as he had when the monster attacked.

While they wait for Tanjirou, Urokodaki does also go about helping her relearn speech. And then she gives him a heart attack by walking outside midday. "How was I supposed to know I should expect a fiery death?!" "All demons instinctively fear the sun!" "Well, then, maybe I was meant to do this the whole damn time!"

Then Tanjirou comes back, and is very happy Nezuko is back to some form of her normal self. And hey, she's okay in sunlight! No need to panic about her becoming a pile of ashes! He still carries her in a box, though, sometimes. But Nezuko likes to be in the sun because it's her way of regaining her energy alongside sleep.

Asakusa rolls around, and Nezuko tries to keep Tanjirou from running off. She knows that look, she knows Tanjirou found him. But despite her protests, he still runs off. Nezuko gives chase, staying close to the shadows and other people, and watches Tanjirou confront the monster that cut down everyone else in their family like it was nothing. The siblings meet Tamayo and Yushiro, and Tamayo asks Nezuko if she's had any human flesh or blood. When Nezuko mentions she can walk in sunlight, Tamayo tells her to keep this new ability a secret unless absolutely necessary, lest Kibutsuji try to capture and devour her.

Zenitsu's portion of things go a little differently. He definitely tries to flirt with Nezuko, and she promptly threatens to use Tanjirou as a battering ram on the blond boy's skull. Nezuko and Tanjirou get separated in the Tsuzumi Mansion, which causes the former to panic because her selfless idiot of a brother has broke bones and is somewhere in this godforsaken death house, And-- CRAP, THERE'S A BOAR TRYING TO CUT HER HEAD OFF!! Yeah, Inosuke just chases Nezuko throughout the mansion until they get outside. Nezuko inevitably ends(or greatly reduces) his bloodline, which is what Zenitsu wakes up to. A guy in a boar head wheezing in pain whilst clutching the Hashibira Family Jewels, and Nezuko glaring at said boar guy with her leg raised suspiciously like she caused the damage.

And Nezuko is definitely calling Rui every insult she knows, including the ones with language she had been heavily scolded for using when her parents were alive. Kie and Tanjurou are gaping at Nezuko's language while desperately trying to cover their dead kids' ears. Yoriichi and Sumiyoshi are helping, and silently wondering how Nezuko picked up such... colourful language(spoilers, it was Saburou... By accident).

And now for the main event, the Hashira trial. Nezuko's just chilling in her box, waiting for Tanjirou to handle things, when some guy with a sword just up and STABS HER before trying to coax her out with blood. When another dude says she won't come out in daylight, she goes "Try me, b****" and pops right out. And then promptly slaps Shinazugawa, hurls at least one insult per Hashira(she isn't quite past Giyuu stabbing her for no clear reason), and picks up Tanjirou like "Don't ever talk to me or my big brother again." while glaring daggers at them. She's standing in the sun, she knows their blades must have lost their effectiveness.

While at the Butterfly Mansion, Nezuko easily bonds with the girls there. She acts so human, they practically forget she's a demon most of the time. She's also present for the talk with Shinobu about Kanae and her dream, and the two later have a girl to girl conversation about what their respective late families would want of them. And after the coin flip scene, Nezuko can't help but giggle. She recognizes a crush a mile away, having been the focus of a few back home(y'know, being the town beauty and all that). When Tanjirou asks her what's so funny, she brushes it off and insists he'll find out another time.

Mugen Train, she gets smuggled onto the train in her box. No ticket, no spell, no problem. Once the conductor leaves, she hops out and immediately goes about observing the situation. She still headbutts Tanjirou in the head, fully anticipating she'll start bleeding and be able to use that. After the train derailment, she is fully ready to fight Akaza, his personal code be damned. "Oh, you don't fight women? All the easier for me to gouge your eyes out, mf!" Akaza has never seen a girl so angry. He had nightmares for weeks, especially because of the blood arson. Does this save Rengoku? I don't know, I'll leave that up to your imagination!

Then Entertainment District comes around. Nezuko still goes Full Form, but manages to reign herself in. Luckily, being photosynthetic makes restraining her hunger much easier! This means she's conscious for the fight with Gyutaro, which makes it go in their favour with a much more instantaneous solution for that poison! Plus, that might reveal the secret of the red blades sooner!

Swordsmith's Village goes about the same. Genya probably gives Nezuko the idea to chow on demons, but I don't know how well that's going. At the end, however, as Hantengu burns in the sun, Nezuko just smirks at him before leaning down and telling Muzan(through Hantengu) that he can suck a dick, and that he'd better start praying because karma is coming for him.

During Hashira training, Nezuko takes up some sword training. Not sure what Breath she uses. Either way, she trains. When the antidote gets manufactured, Nezuko asks if she can wait to take it. Tamayo doesn't think it's a good idea, but Nezuko insists with the promise she'll be careful.

Infinity Castle, most of the fights go pretty much the same. Except the Kokushibou fight. Nezuko get sent there because the one brain cell Muzan's five brains share managed to clink in the right brain to think "Hey, the logical step to capture the super important demon is the throw her at my most powerful subordinate!" Unfortunately, he didn't account for the three Hashira and that demon-eating kid also showing up, or for Kokushibou to want to bond with his descendant. Or Nezuko being a feral gremlin who's 100% down for arson and has the power to commit it as she pleases. She definitely manages to save Genya, I am undecided on Muichirou. But Nezuko saving Genya earns her Sanemi's respect and gratitude.

Sunrise Countdown goes a little easier. No one's actively dying from poison, even if Tanjirou's still half-blind. Nezuko and Tanjirou tag team Muzan, with Nezuko striking from a range while Tanjirou goes for close quarters. As the sun rises, Nezuko jabs herself with the antidote to get her transformation back into a human started before Muzan dies. Muzan, seeing the rising sun and noticing Nezuko injected herself with something, makes one last desperate attempt to devour her, but all the Demon Slayers fight to protect her as Tanjirou pins Muzan to keep him from escaping.

Does Demon King Tanjirou still happen? Debatable. If he does, Muzan used his blood while trying to dislodge Tanjirou's grip, and eventually settled on just transferring all his blood to Tanjirou. But it doesn't last nearly as long as canon because Nezuko will have just taken the antidote. As such, she'll still have access to her Blood Demon Art. The way I see, she notices something off with Tanjirou and charge tackles him before lighting him up with several loud and tearful apologies. Because she knows it's gonna be painful but she has to burn out Kibutsuji's cells before they transform Tanjirou. The fire extinguishes as Nezuko's use of Exploding Blood actually speeds up her transformation since she's using her demonic cells to ignite the fire, but it's enough that it'll at least delay Tanjirou's transformation long enough for someone to restrain him if they need to. Kanao shows up, gives Tanjirou to booster dose to finish off the last cells, and both the siblings collapse from exhaustion. They're both unconscious for at least a couple months.

Afterwards, life goes on as normal. The lives lost are mourned, the Corps disbands(possibly with some more ex-Hashira to celebrate the end of the demons), and everyone lives happily ever after. Nezuko laments losing her demonic strength, but is also happy to be back to normal.

[johnnyraine]

Next to Me - Ch. 6

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5

Warning for Blood and Violence!

Words: 1,461

28th of January, 2023

~ stupid things I do ~

More so than ever, you are certain Aguni could beat you.

Cradling some ice to your face, you remember how quick Aguni’s punch was. You’ll admit that you kinda deserved it, what with you publicly calling him something close to a “fucking idiot,” for making Niragi your seemingly permanent partner. It certainly wasn’t your smartest moment.

Daisuke said as much as well.

That was two days ago, and still, you’re in pain.

You hear that stupid chuckle next to you.

Slowly turning your head, you see Niragi smirking.

“Something funny, Niragi?” You bite out.

“You’re still an idiot, Y/n,” He says with what you think is him being smug.

You don’t even try to hold yourself back.

“At least I’m not Aguni’s bitch.”

Before you confronted Aguni, Niragi was already getting shut down. He had also complained about you, but, seemingly like it was natural, Aguni did not care. And Niragi shut up about it. At least to Aguni anyway.

“What did you say?”

He looms over you.

“I said, at least I’m not bent over, taking it up the ass from my own boss, Niragi.”

You feel yourself smirking as he gets riled up.

“You think you're so great, huh? Didn’t Aguni beat you in one hit? I’m honestly surprised your dumbass hasn’t gotten yourself killed in some stupid fight.”

And your smirk is gone.

Honestly, he’s not far off. Before the Borderlands, you were able to keep your temper in relative check for years. But there were the rare times you snapped. Two of those times, you almost did die. But Niragi doesn’t need to know that.

“You’re still so fucking small, Niragi,” Your voice is cold. “You’re still that kid under a bridge, huh?”

Already, you know you went a bit far. You’re prepared for a fist, a kick, whatever he throws, even ready to grab his rifle should it move.

Your eyes flinch shut.

Never in your life have you ever been this fucking Pissed!

Niragi spit in your face.

Rage rushes through your veins, feeling the crimson heat burn your very being. He whips you in the jaw with his gun. Before you can fall, you grip his shirt, throwing him to the ground as well. Tasting blood, you hold it in your mouth as you scramble to your knees. Niragi gets to his knees and reaches for his gun, but you throw out your leg, kicking it away. Within his reach, he decks you, your head whipping back.

On your back, you blearily see his rage-filled face as he comes to punch you. But he pauses for a moment. You spit the blood at him, throwing him off.

Grabbing him again, you ram your head into his nose.

Niragi makes a sound as he falls back. You get up, blood pumping.

Towering over him, your wide eyes watch him clutch his nose, blood leaking through his fingers. Jaw clenched, you ignore the pain and look away. You awkwardly nod before trudging off.

~~~~~

Aguni stares at you and Niragi a lot.

It feels like glaring, but he doesn’t say anything. He stops pairing you and Niragi up, instead, giving you increasingly annoying partners.

After a few days of this, you're ready to snap someone’s neck.

“Do you want to wind down a bit?” Daisuke asks.

You’ve slowly stopped hiding at the Beach and started hanging out with Daisuke. A fairly good person in a sea of debauchery. You’ve also talked to Chishiya more. You even met his friend, Kuina. You recognize she has some muscle, either from working out or perhaps she’s a fellow fighter.

Back to the present, You think you a moment, “I’m not going to lose control of myself here.”

“I can make sure no one tries anything if you want to drink.”

Despite how you feel about him, you still narrow your eyes in suspicion. Daisuke faintly reminds you of Chishiya, but less of the “smarter than you,” and more of the “I want something.” Nothing bad, you feel, but you’re still suspicious.

“If you do not want to drink, you can party with others,” He says unfazed.

“Fine,” You say after a moment.

That night, you two go to the bar to wind down. Predictably, people are already there, some seemingly trying to drown in alcohol. What is an unwelcome surprise is the annoying militants and the rifle-toting man himself, Niragi.

“Perhaps we should drink somewhere else,” Daisuke says before you two are seen.

“Look whoo’s it, the guy Aguni Knocked out!” Some guy yells.

Vaguely, he seems familiar. But that’s not important right now. After a shitty day, the last thing you want is another annoying dick bothering you.

“Niragi! Can’t you control this thing?” These are the first words said between you two in days.

The guy becomes red, though that could just be his drunken self. When Niragi does nothing, the man seems to gain more confidence for whatever reason.

“Jus ‘cause you’re in the Militia doesn mean you’re one a us,” He says.

You stare at him for a long time. Then it hits.

“OH! You’re Ken-something aren’t you?!” You exclaim. “You haven’t been bothering people, have you? I could’ve sworn I said I’d “break your arm,” or “rip your fucking tongue out,” didn’t I?”

Up til this moment, you hadn’t realized the music wasn’t playing.

Ken-something is practically foaming at the mouth, “My name! Is Keiji!”

“I don’t care, Kenny.”

Before Kenny explodes, Niragi interrupts.

“You are so annoying!” He slams his gun into the bar, standing.

You feel your heartbeat start picking up. You two stand there for a moment before Niragi stalks off, Kenny and some of the other militants follow.

Sighing through your nose, you take a seat at the bar, ignoring the way the other militants look at you.

“I’ll have a-”

~~~~~

Another awkward drive.

Niragi’s driving and you’re in the back with three others. A tight squeeze.

Arriving at the venue everyone is forced to give up their weapons. After doing so, your group and another pile into the small one-room building. When the game is revealed, you can’t help but fist pump.

Spades.

The game is called Room for Two: Within ten minutes, only use your hands to clear the room until only two people remain.

And the doors lock.

Taking a deep breath, you hold it, then let it out slowly.

Surveying the room, you register only two real threats, Niragi and some guy who would give Aguni a run for his money.

Staring at the big man, you utter only to him, "I am so sorry."

Within moments, you are able to make people realize that he is the biggest threat. After three minutes, he and three others are dead. A few people are fighting each other as those who freeze are snuffed out.

As the time runs low, your bloody and crazed self is seen as the biggest threat.

Four people rush you and you remember one of those times you nearly died.

"Fuckers! Fight fair!" You hypocritically shout, kicking a man in his nuts before decking him, knocking him out.

Someone wraps their arm around your neck, pulling you back. The two others start wailing on you, punching you in the face and stomach.

Gasping and choking out sounds, your vision fades. In desperation, you throw out a hand, poking one of them in the eye.

The other person winds back and is thrown to the ground.

Your narrow vision stops you from seeing the fist fly past you, knocking your strangler's head into the wall behind them.

You gasp as their hold loosens. Elbowing them in the stomach, you twist around and slam their head into the wall repeatedly. Glancing behind you, you see Niragi stomping on an assailant's throat.

Throwing the strangler’s corpse to the floor, you help Niragi finish off the last people in the room.

One minute, that's when the timer comes to a stop.

You and Niragi are drenched in blood. It covers your shirt but stains his. Your knuckles are raw, scraped, and bleeding. You’re both panting. Niragi has a nasty look on his face, glowering at the mess around the room.

Niragi turns to you, "Stop that, it's creepy."

You're shaking. Your face hurts, not from the hits, but from your wide grin. It was so exciting, you can't help it. All your previous fights in the Borderlands can't compare.

'Perhaps not the Tag game, though.' The thought passes quickly, though.

Watching Niragi, his stupid scowl, his fucked up hair and clothes. He's still giving you a nasty look.

…Fuck.

You latch onto his hair. He makes an indignant sound, but you bring him closer.

And your tongue rolls over his, feeling a piercing you didn’t know he had.

← Chapter 5 - Chapter 7 →

[ronaldofandom]

A Love Eternal / Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna

Chapter 8 is up guys. After the steamy action in the last chapter, this one is full of fluff and a little bit of comedy :)

Summary: RamBheem have a heart-to-heart talk about Ram's feelings. Then BheemJenny have a heart-to-heart talk about last night & their others firsts. No warnings, this is just feels!!!

Chapter 8

(Links to Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 9, Ch 10 , Ch 11)

Ram was disgruntled. And miffed with Bheem.

How dare his friend punish him like that for teasing him? Wasn’t that the birthright of a best friend? So what if he said a few things - the idiot didn’t have to make him carry all the training equipment all by himself all the way down to the village. All for a few harmless words.

Well, they weren’t really harmless, and they were said in front of Malli.

He clamped down on his conscience. It could go take a hike for all he cared. Right now, he would stay with irritation.

Ram half carried, half dragged the pile behind him, dropping it unceremoniously when he reached the village, making sure to capture Bheem’s attention. The younger man was playing happily with the kids, swinging them around, which infuriated Ram further.

He huffed and puffed some more, making angry noises, till Bheem finally made his way to him and hugged him from behind.

‘Awww, is my Anna upset?’

Upset? Ram wanted to throw a shoe at him.

‘Shut up. You are insufferable. And you are stinking. Get away from me.’

Ram was lying, of course. He never wanted Bheem to stop hugging him, EVER. Bheem’s hugs could cure cancer; no one could convince Ram otherwise.

Bheem saw through the lie in Ram’s words and hugged him tighter. Ram stopped struggling soon and enjoyed his warmth.

‘You know you deserved it.’

‘Yeah. Whatever.’

Ram shrugged. He wasn’t going to admit that.

Bheem finally let him go. They both had to attend a few important meetings. The informants had come back from their visits. And the supplies needed to be replenished too. There was word from Ram’s village as well - the Britishers were hovering around, looking for him. The tribesmen had blocked the main road leading up to this village, which is why they hadn’t come looking here. Yet.

The men discussed all that needed to be done immediately. And passed on specific instructions to the rest. Ram was always surprised when he saw Bheem in his element - he could be so smart, resourceful, and decisive on his turf. In familiar territory, no one was a match to him.

When the meeting concluded, Ram and Bheem were the last to leave, discussing some final details. It was quite late already, well into the night.

‘Anna, don’t wait for me tomorrow. I won't be around, and I won't come to the training.’

Ram looked at him quizzically.

‘Why?’

Bheem shrugged.

‘I am busy.’

‘And what exactly is keeping you busy tomorrow?’

‘I have plans. With Jenny. She was cooped up in the village all these days; I had asked her to not go anywhere far without me. For obvious reasons.’

Ram nodded. He didn’t need to ask him about the reasons, it was self-explanatory to him.’

‘So I promised her I would take her around tomorrow.’

Something about the giddy, love-sick smile on his face hit Ram deeply.

‘How do you do this, Bheem? How do you make all these grand gestures to express your love?’

Bheem looked at him with understanding. He knew expressing his feelings wasn’t a strong suit of his friend. He knew how much he struggled with pouring his heart out to anyone. Bheem had been an exception, yes, but he wished Ram could be more expressive with others too.

‘You don’t need grand gestures in love. You just need to express what you feel in whatever way comes naturally to you.’

What came naturally to him, wondered Ram. Screaming in a room? Punching a wall? Staring endlessly into an abyss? Writing countless letters and never sending them? Burying himself in supposedly urgent things, so he doesn’t have to have an honest conversation with people he was most vulnerable with?

‘It’s not as easy as you make it sound.’

‘Yes it is. You have just spent years convincing yourself that it’s not, so you don’t want to see it now.’

Bheem could sense what this was about, but he wanted Ram to admit it himself.

‘How does all this not overwhelm you? How are you still able to laugh so freely, even after everything that’s happened with you and your people? How do you plot a potentially fatal mission and then rush to the arms of your beloved the next second? HOW ARE YOU ABLE TO DO JUSTICE TO YOUR LOVE SO BEAUTIFULLY?’

And why can’t I do even an iota of that? It was unsaid but well-understood between both of them.

‘Anna - when was the last time you told her that you loved her?’

Ram was flummoxed. He couldn’t think of the last time. He couldn’t think of any time he had said those words. It was an unspoken understanding between them.

Bheem saw through his expression, and his hunch was validated.

‘Can’t remember it, right? Why don’t you try doing it tonight? Just say this to her and see how she reacts. I am not saying everything needs to be said, but sometimes it’s so good to know you are cherished. And loved. And spoken for. By the person who is the center of your universe. For tonight, can you just try living in the moment? I mean, it doesn’t even have to be these words. You both know each other better than any two people in the world. You were destined to be together, almost since childhood. You know her in and out, Anna. You know her heart. Why don’t you do something which would show her what she means to you? Which would make her heart smile. Which would make her feel loved. I am sure you can figure out what it could be. But please, don’t second guess yourself and just do it, will you?

Bheem’s passionate plea did impact him. A lot. He wondered if there were any remnants of the old Ram left in him still, the one who knew how to love? He will have to dig deep to find that person.

‘Now, say the other thing.’

Bheem said nonchalantly. Ram was puzzled again.

‘What other thing?’

‘The one that you are not saying. The one which scares you to bare your heart to her.’

Ram’s hands opened and fisted over and over again. He was not an open book by any measure. And for the life of him, he had no idea how Bheem had figured himself out so well.

‘What if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore? What if I have finally managed to ruin the purest bond in my life?’

Bheem laughed in his face. Out loud. And Ram discovered the one instance where even Bheem’s laugh could be annoying.

‘Sorry sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. Really.’

Bheem tried to apologize sincerely, reaching for Ram’s shoulders.

‘Anna - you know I love you. So I say this with the best intention and utmost care. You, my friend, are an even bigger fool than I was.’

‘I am sorry, WHAT?’

‘You heard me. And yes you should be sorry - for this monstrous stupidity.’

‘I am so blessed to have you as a friend. Really. What a wonderful way to kick someone when he is down.’

‘Awww.’

‘Shut up.’

Bheem enveloped him in another bear hug. This time, Ram struggled sincerely to escape it, but he obviously failed.

Bheem turned Ram to look at himself.

‘I am just going to say two things here. One - Sita worships you. She loves you unconditionally and irrevocably. Anyone with eyes can see that. Anyone with a heart can feel that. And two - please don’t assume anything. Please let her decide how she sees you and what she feels for you. Please stop burying yourself in this self-pity of not deserving her love. Let her be the judge of that.’

It wasn’t lost on Ram that Bheem was saying everything Ram had told him when he had convinced Bheem to confess his feelings to Jenny. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on either man.

‘So - can you do that for me? Can you please just try tonight? Will you promise me that you will at least think about it?’

Ram nodded silently. And Bheem flashed his most gorgeous smile at him, making Ram smile too.

‘I CAN NOT wait to hear how that pans out. Now, off you go, before she goes to sleep. You have a lot of work to do tonight.’

Bheem patted his head as if he were a little child who was being asked to finish his homework, and nodded in the direction of the hut he shared with Sita. Babai had left a few days back, so it was just the two of them in the hut now.

‘Don’t pretend that you don’t want to send me away quickly, so you can just go to her.’

‘Well - a man can have two intentions.’

Bheem smiled sheepishly at him.

‘I think I will take a walk first to clear my head. Then I will go back.’

‘A walk? At this time? Don’t go too far - you don’t know the terrain too well. Do you want me to come with you?’

‘No. I don’t want to keep you away from where you really want to be any longer. I won’t venture too far.’

‘Ok. Come and get me if you need anything. And tomorrow I…’

‘Yes yes, tomorrow you are not around, you have said that loud & clear.’

‘Excellent. Proud of you. Now make me more proud by manning up tonight.’

Bheem patted his head again and walked away cheerfully, leaving Ram staring at his back.

It was going to be a long walk. Ram had a lot to figure out.

Bheem returned to his hut then. Jenny had left the door unlocked and was in the adjoining washroom when he walked in.

‘Kaun hain?’ (Who is it?)

‘Main hoon.’ (It’s me.)

While she was still inside, Bheem changed for the night. He usually liked sleeping without his kurta, and he wondered if he could do that now, after last night. But he didn’t want her to feel he was insinuating anything. So he put on a vest instead. He hated vests with a vengeance since he was a child. Never liked wearing them under kurtas or in any other form. Always cribbing to his mother that they were too tight or too loose or made him feel unnecessarily hot. He found them utterly pointless. But still, he put one on tonight, for both their sakes.

When Jenny came out, changed for the night, Bheem had already settled on the cot and was waiting for her to emerge. Their eyes met, and they both forgot what they were squabbling over during the day. And smiled at each other almost at the same time. Bheem patted the mattress on his side, inviting her to join him. She giggled and went to him instantly, lying next to him. His arm went around her waist and her hand curled on his bicep.

Bheem didn’t make the same mistake that had irritated her during the day - of asking how she was. She seemed physically fine. But he wanted to know about her thoughts, her feelings, her questions, her concerns; anything that was playing on her mind about last night. Sita had hinted that they should talk, and he wanted to do that himself too.

He caressed the side of her waist over the thin fabric of her silk nightgown and gazed into her eyes.

‘Kal raat jo humaare beech hua, kya hum us baare me baat kar sakte hain?’

(Can we talk about what happened between us last night?’)

Jenny nodded nervously. She had relived those moments in her head all day, over and over again, but she wasn’t sure if she could talk to him yet about all that stuff.

‘Agar tumhare mann me kuch hain, jo tum kehna chahti ho, ya poochna chahti ho, toh kaho na, jaan.’

(If there is anything playing in your mind that you want to talk about, or ask about, then please do so, sweetheart.)

Jaan. That word made her heart flutter. She was still getting used to him calling her that. He noticed the little curving of her lips and understood the reason instantly.

‘Socha kayi baar tha, par shayad zubaan pe pehli baar kal aaya ye shabd.’

(I called you this in my heart many times earlier but said it out loud only yesterday.)

He was rewarded with a gorgeous smile, and couldn’t help himself from leaning over to lightly brush his lips over her forehead. He waited patiently then as she tried to find the next words.

She knew exactly what she wanted to ask but would rather have the earth swallow her whole instead of saying that out loud.

‘Tum shuru karo na, please.’

(Can you start instead, please?)

‘Theek hain. Kya tum kal raat se…khush ho ya fir kuch aisa tha jo tumhe laga ki abhi nahi hona chahiye tha?’

(Ok. Are you….happy with last night or is there something you felt shouldn’t have happened this soon?)

Jenny pondered over his question. Was she happy? How was she supposed to tell him she didn’t even know that happiness like this existed. He had treated her like a queen. Well, he always did that, but last night he had fully submerged her in his love and care.

She clasped the shell necklace (she hadn’t taken it off all day, obviously) with her fingers and tried to look up at him.

‘My love - it was perfect. Everything was perfect. YOU were perfect. I couldn’t ask for anything else.’

Bheem understood the essence of it but was stuck on one word. He scratched his beard in confusion.

‘Perfect matlab?’ (What does perfect mean?)

She smiled and caressed his cheek adoringly. He held her hand and kept it there.

‘Matlab - us se achcha, us se behtar kuch nahi ho sakta.’

(It means - nothing can top it, nothing can be better or more beautiful than it.)

He nodded in understanding. Then looked at her with a twinkle in his eyes.

‘Jaise ki tum ho. Perfect.’

(Like you are. Perfect.)

She melted and giggled loudly as he turned slightly to kiss her palm.

‘My my - you are such a charmer, aren’t you?’

They gazed at each other silently for a few seconds, soaking in this moment and the waves of affection coursing through them.

Sensing that she was more relaxed now, Bheem squeezed her hand, urging her to share her feelings with him. She yielded under his unwavering gaze.

A few things were playing on her mind. Some insecurities were gnawing away at her. Some fears that she didn’t want to give life to by saying them out loud. But she couldn’t hold out anymore, not when he asked so sweetly.

‘Kal raat…kya TUM khush ho?’

(Are YOU…happy with last night?)

She somehow choked out these words, hiding her face in the pillow, bracing herself for the worst. It’s not as if she knew what she was supposed to do in such intimate situations. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t done anything. He had done everything, and she had just gone along with it. Had she even satisfied him? Or had he stopped midway since she couldn’t take it anymore and was left unfulfilled? Did he not feel the bliss she did? Did his world not change forever last night, like hers did? She had so many questions, but this was all she could manage to say.

Bheem understood that her question had deeper connotations. In fact, he was half expecting it. She was too far gone last night to properly remember the impact she had had on him. To gauge how his body had reacted to hers. To understand how he had ascended to a heavenly plane while losing himself inside her.

This is what he wanted to address. To make her realize what she had done to his heart, body, and soul last night.

He scooted closer to her, coaxing her eyes away from the pillow and towards his own. He brushed her loose strands and tucked them behind her ear as he gazed into her anxious eyes.

‘Meri baat dhyaan se sun na, Jenny. Kal ki raat meri zindagi ki sabse haseen, sabse yaadgaar raat thi. Main kabhi soch bhi nahi sakta tha ki hum dono is tarah saath ho sakte hain. Har roz tumse thoda aur zyada pyaar ho raha hain, pata nahi kaise. Ye chehra, ye aankhen, ye hoth, ye muskurahat, ye sharam - mere dil aur dimaag pe chap chuki hain. Jab aankhen band karta hoon, toh tumhe dekhta hoon, tumhe mehsoos karta hoon. Meri jaan - kal raat se tum meri ho gayi ho aur main tumhara.’

(Please hear me out carefully, Jenny. Last night was the most beautiful, most memorable night of my life. I could never even imagine that we could be together like this. I am falling in love with you more and more with each passing day, don’t know how. This face, these eyes, these lips, this smile, this beautiful blush - they are imprinted on my heart and mind now. When I close my eyes, I see you, I feel you. My sweetheart, since last night, you have become mine, and I have become yours.)

Jenny heard with rapt attention, in stunned silence. She was moved beyond measure by his heartfelt proclamation of love. She was also deeply relieved that it had been equally special for him. She wanted to respond, but her lips opened and closed like a dumbstruck fool. Voice failed her. Words failed her. So she did the only thing she could think of.

She leaned closer and slowly brushed her lips against his. This was the first time she had initiated a proper kiss between them. He stayed still, letting her take the lead, enjoying her tentative touches. Jenny tried to follow what he had done last night, slowly running her tongue over his luscious full lips, sucking on the bottom lip, biting it gently, and enjoying the resulting groan from him. His mustache and beard scratched her face all the way through, making her giggle. She gained confidence and started moving their lips together, finally coaxing a response from his. They broke apart soon, lest things go out of control, and gazed at each other. Reading the depth of emotion flowing in the deep orbs of their lover, which was kind of their forte from the get-go.

At that moment, Jenny realized how little she really knew about the love of her life. They had spent many nights talking about his childhood, his parents, his early years, and his duties to his people. But he never spoke about his personal life. And she never asked, almost afraid of the response. That was before. But now that they were together, she wanted to know everything about him.

‘Bheem, kya mujhse pehle bhi koi khaas tha tumhari zindagi me?’

(Bheem, was there someone special in your life before me?)

Bheem stopped playing with her hair then and thought about how to articulate a response.

Her heart grew heavy during his pause; she understood there was a story there. She hadn’t been his first love then, while he had been her first everything. Not that she should be surprised - he was very desirable & must have been in great demand. She wondered if he still thought about her. Whether he had been intimate with her. Whether there was just one or more. Whether it was someone from the tribe who he saw every day.

‘Koi tha toh - par shayad utna khaas nahi.’

(There was someone, but maybe not that special.)

‘Uh-huh.’

She uttered a syllable, waiting for him to continue. Determinedly avoiding his gaze and focusing on his chest instead as her fingers fiddled with the fabric of his vest.

He told her it was many years back when he had been almost the same age as Jenny today. The girl was the daughter of a merchant in a nearby city bazaar. Bheem frequented the merchant’s shop for the tribe’s supplies, and that’s how they met. It was more of an infatuation to begin with, but they ended up going to many local fairs together and developed some feelings. However, she soon realized there was no future with him and moved on to greener pastures.

Jenny was utterly confused. She didn’t understand why the girl called things off, when she liked him too.

Her sweet innocence tugged at his heart. He sighed deeply, reached for her hands, kissed them lovingly and held them close to his chest.

‘Meri jaan, kaise samjhaun tumhe? Har koi tumhare jaisa nahi hota na. Sirf pyaar kaafi nahi hota unke liye. Pyaar ke liye wo apni poori duniya, apne saare sukh chhod ke nahi aa jate, jaise tum aa gayi. Wo sab insaano ko ek tarah nahi samajhte, jaise tum samajhti ho.’

(Sweetheart, how do I explain this? Not everyone is like you. Just love is not enough for them. For love, they don’t want to leave their whole world and their comforts behind, unlike you. They don’t consider all people the same, unlike you.)

Bheem had truly been amazed at how normally she had treated him from the get-go. There was an ocean of differences between them - in race, social stature, language, and beauty. Yet, she always treated him as her equal. Never hesitated to get on his bike or hold his arm or defend him in front of bullies or just dance with him. There was not even an iota of discrimination in her.

He wished he could shield her innocence forever. But that wasn’t possible in the brutal realities of this harsh world.

Realization dawned on her then, and she caressed his face softly.

‘Well, I think she is the biggest fool in this universe. Only a blithering fool could ever let you go. It’s entirely her loss. And my gain.’

She kissed his cheeks, bringing a smile to his face. Something was still bothering her though, and she wanted to get it off her chest.

‘Kya tum, ab bhi…us se..’

(Do you….do you still…)

Bheem cut her off midway, understanding where she was going with this.

‘Nahi. Bohot waqt ho gaya uske baare me soche hue bhi. Us waqt laga tha shayad wo pyaar tha, par ab jake samajh aaya pyaar kehte kise hain. Wo rishta kabhi itna kareebi bhi nahi hua, jaise hum hain.’

(No. I haven’t even thought about that in a long while. At that time, I thought it was love. But now I understand what love truly feels like. That was also not an intimate relationship, not like ours.)

Her heart smiled at his words, this was exactly what she had wanted to hear.

There was only one last thing now. She couldn’t shake the thought, so she decided to take the plunge while hiding her face in his chest.

‘Toh fir tumhe….wo sab…kaise aata tha jo kal humne….jo tumne kiya?.’

(Then how did you…know all that…that we did…that you did last night?)

Bheem laughed loudly, and she hid her face further in his chest, flushed with embarrassment. Was her question that silly? Was it a male thing - something that men just knew organically?

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and kissed the top of her head repeatedly. In all honesty, he had understood this question halfway as well but was very amused & let her struggle through it.

‘Oh Jenny. Jenny.’

He kept repeating this while swaying her lightly in his arms. Her naïveté was to die for. He found it irresistibly endearing. Once the amusement subsided, he whispered in her ear suggestively.

‘Tumhe kal us roop me dekh ke toh kisi murat me bhi jaan aa jati, phir main toh sirf ek insaan hun.’

(The way you looked last night - even a stone statue would have come to life and would have known what to do. I am just a mere hot-blooded man then.)

She smacked his chest lightly at the suggestive flirting but couldn’t help the crimson taking over her cheeks and neck. He held her close and let her ride through this moment.

Bheem also had some questions he wanted to ask. While he knew it was her first time, he was curious about her life before she met him. He was sure she would have had many suitors chasing after her. Who were potentially far better matches for her than he ever could be.

‘Mujhse toh pooch liya, ab apna bhi batao na. Kya koi tha mujhse pehle?’

(You asked me everything, now tell me about yourself no. Was there anyone before me?)

She looked up at him earnestly and shook her head slowly in a no.

‘YOU are my everything, Bheem. My first real crush, my first love, my first….well, everything.’

He felt himself falling for her even deeper. Never wanting to let her out of his arms.

‘Par, tumhe chahne wale toh aur honge na? Tumse toh kisi ko bhi pyaar ho jaega.’

(But, there must be others who fell for you, right? Anyone would fall for you easily.)

‘Yes. There were a few.’

There were quite a few actually, both in India and London. While her family’s wealth and connections had played a part, many wanted her for her too. Many rich, powerful men wanted to claim her for themselves. They had expressed their feelings about her beauty in vivid words - she had to sit through them all and politely decline with some excuse or the other. Her family had been aghast, and the pressure was mounting on her to pick someone.

Well, she had picked someone now, and they would probably get a stroke if they knew who he was.

Bheem’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

‘Aur wo, jo us party me tumhare saath dance karna chahta tha, who bhi na?’

(And that guy who wanted to dance with you at the party, him too?)

Jenny understood he was talking about Jake, and was a little surprised about how perceptive he was. Because yes, it was true. Jake had been the most persistent one, chasing her since she had come to India two years back.

‘Yes. Him too.’

She felt his grip tighten around her waist and immediately reached out to caress his chest, trying to soothe him.

Now, Bheem was not a petty man. Nor was he vindictive. But in this particular instance, he wished for that vile creature to know who she had picked; in whose arms she had chosen to make her home. He dismissed the thought soon enough, snorting at the pointlessness of it.

‘You looked amazing that day in that fitted suit. So handsome. So perfect.’

She said quickly, trying to get his mind away from the unpleasant memory.

He smiled with child-like joy.

‘Tumhe achcha laga? Agar tum kaho toh dobara bhi pehen sakta hoon.’

(Did you like it? If you wish so, I could wear it again.)

She had worn the saree for him. He wanted to reciprocate and do something nice for her too. He could borrow it from Ram.

‘But did you like it? Tumhe achcha laga kya?

She didn’t want him to wear something he didn’t like, something that reminded him of things he had to do just to get by. Things he had to endure in a big city just to be accepted.

‘Matlab - theek hi tha. Thoda alag tha par bura nahi tha.’

(It was ok. Slightly different and strange but not bad.)

'Hmmm.'

‘Waise, wo jo tumne bhi pehna tha us din, wo….’

(Actually, what you were also wearing that day, that…)

‘Dress.’

‘Dress. Wo dress bhi kafi sundar lag rahi thi tum pe. Aur wo rang bhi.)

(Yes that. Dress. It looked really pretty on you. And the color suited you too.)

The color had highlighted the pink of her cheeks, her cute dimples and the shine in her eyes. He thought she looked like a fairy that day.

It suddenly hit him that her room was full of that colour too - the curtains, the flowers, the blanket, the wall paper, the couch - everything had that colour tone.

‘Wo rang tumhe bohot pasand hain na?’

(You really like that colour, don’t you?)

She nodded in excitement, the said shine returning to her eyes. Bheem made a mental note of it for the next time he would bring her flowers.

‘Waise - ek do dress hain mere paas yahaan. Tum chaho toh main pehen sakti hun tumhare liye.’

(I do have 1-2 dresses with me here. If you want, I could wear it for you one day.)

‘Theek hain. Toh tum dress pehen na aur main suit. Ek hi shaam ko.’

(Yes. Then you wear a dress, and I will wear a suit on the same evening.)

Plans were made for the evening. Sweet, romantic plans. Maybe he would cook for her too or sing for her. Maybe they could dance the way she had taught him - he would figure closer to the date.

This was important to him - he wanted her to have some things from her previous life too. She had left behind everything for him, and he knew he could never do the same for her. He could never leave his world and join her in hers - he didn’t have the heart or the courage for it. But he wanted to help her at least keep her memories alive.

Hours passed talking like this, and neither of them realized. Snuggled in each other’s warmth and comfort, they could do this forever. When the night air started to get a little chilly though, Jenny got up to fetch the blanket.

She cocooned them both inside the cozy blanket and settled her face on his extended arm, between his shoulder and his bicep. Bheem usually liked sleeping on his stomach, but this quickly became his new favorite position. With her leaning on top of him and her leg resting lazily on his waist. The tip of her fingers traced his chest hair. Her ebony tresses caressed his face.

It suddenly hit him that he had completely forgotten to speak to her about his conversations with the tribal council regarding their relationship and also with Malli. Damn, she had a way of making him forget things.

When he told her that he had made their courtship official by taking the council's blessings, she was overwhelmed with love and gratitude. He had done it the right way. He had done right by her, by them. He had done everything possible to bring them together in the ways / traditions of his people. Without her ever telling him that somewhere it had bothered her what people must be thinking about them. He had just understood, and she was infinitely touched by his gesture.

When he told her about Malli’s complaints, though, sudden pangs of guilt hit her. The child had suffered enough - the last thing Jenny wanted was to be the reason for her further misery. She wanted to go to Malli immediately, but Bheem told her it was way past her bedtime. She said she would go first thing in the morning, but Bheem reminded her that tomorrow they were meant to go away together to her favorite places around the area. He had promised her last night, and he was determined to make good on it.

‘Kal sirf tum aur main. Parson chali jana Malli ke paas.’

(Tomorrow it’s gonna be just you and me. You can be with Malli the day after, it’s fine.)

When she didn’t look convinced, Bheem smothered her face with kisses. She was too loving for her own good. But tomorrow, he would keep her for himself selfishly. It was the only day he had to spare, the next few were going to be hectic.

‘Jab tumhe pehli baar dekha tha na, tab hi pata chal gaya tha ki tumse bhi zyada khoobsoorat tumhara ye masoom dil hain.’

(I knew this the day I saw you for the first time - that your kind heart is even more beautiful than your outward appearance.)

She smiled and thought back to the day of their first meeting. Something about his sweet face, his deep eyes, and his overall demeanor made her want to hold on to him. That’s why she had invited him to the party, with the hope of seeing him again.

‘It was god’s plan. It was destiny that made my car puncture in front of you.’

‘God nahi, wo toh Ram ne kiya tha.’

(No no, that wasn’t God, it was Ram who did that.)

They both stilled. Shocked into silence. Bheem only realized what he said after hearing the words himself. And nervously covered his mouth with both hands. She thought she had heard something wrong, or could that really be?

‘What did you just say?

‘Kuch nahi. Raat bohot ho gayi hain, so jana…’

(Nothing. It’s very late, we should probably slee..)

‘BHEEM.’

She said sternly. He was panicking hard, unsure of how she would react to the truth. But he couldn’t lie to her.

‘Ram ne…sadak pe…keel pheki thi..’

(Ram had…thrown nails…on the road…)

He couldn’t get himself to look at her, so he had no idea how he was reacting to the information. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, which made him even more nervous. When she spoke, her words tore through his heart.

‘Did you…do it often then…..to…to pick up women?’

Her voice sounded so faint, so far away, making him feel like the scum of the earth. He knew exactly what she must be thinking about him. And his world came crashing down.

Bheem grabbed her face in desperation, pouring all his love in his touch.

‘Nahi jaan. Aisa nahi hain. Aisa kabhi nahi tha. Sirf tumse baat karne ke liye aisa kiya. Tumhari kasam - aur kabhi nahi kiya hain ye. Please Jenny, mera vishwaas karo. Main aisa nahi hoon. Tum jaanti ho na?’

(No, my love. It’s not like that. It was never like that. I only did it to talk to you. I swear on you, it has never happened before with anyone else. Please Jenny, please believe me. I am not like this. You know that, right?)

She could see the earnestness loud and clear in his eyes, his face, his voice and in the way his whole body was trembling with guilt. Her fears were assuaged immediately, and she kissed his cheeks to comfort him. He was still shaking though, and she cradled his face on her chest, peppering reassuring kisses. It took him a few moments to calm down, and she held him through it, whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

When he did relax though, she laughed in his face, making him conscious.

‘I have to say - this is the most idiotic thing I have heard in a long time. You buffoons couldn’t come up with anything better? I didn’t know you guys were this stupid.’

Bheem didn’t know whether she was laughing with him or at him for his idiocy. But he didn’t push it - she was not mad anymore, and that’s all he cared about.

They were both quite drowsy now - exhausted from the sweet, deep and heavy conversations over many hours. Her eyes turned heavy, and she snuggled into his chest again, finding her favorite spot there.

Before she fell asleep, he whispered a clarification in her ear.

‘Waise, main us din ki baat nahi kar raha tha. Us din se pehle be maine tumhe dekha tha.’

(Listen, I wasn’t referring to that day. I had seen you before that day also.)

‘When?’

She asked lazily, already half asleep.

‘Jab tum ne Jangu ko bachaya tha - un dusht logon se, haveli ke bahar - tab main wahi tha.’

(That day, when you saved Jangu from the beatings of those cruel men outside the palace, I was right there.)

Jenny understood then and hugged him tighter. As if apologizing for the cruelty of those people. Her people.

He hugged her back with equal fervor. And they fell asleep like that. In each other’s arms. While sharing their fears and insecurities. While expressing their infinite love and care. Grateful for being together. Borrowing, rather stealing from the universe, these precious moments of togetherness. Fighting every day to keep their dream alive.

They had every force in the world pulling them apart; the odds were heavily stacked against them from the get-go. Their only solace was their unconditional love for each other. A love that was stronger than all other forces combined. A love that bound them together for eternity. They may not make sense to others. But their love was like that - it didn’t have to make sense to make sense.

...............................................

Hope you enjoyed these fluffy babies!

As always, would love you know what you thought of the chapter :)

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