#I know the reason is “because the show people said so | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lila-lou · 3 days ago

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✨Peanut✨

Summary: Stuck in a safe house with Soldier Boy is a test of patience—and nerves. He’s sharp-tongued, cocky, and impossible to ignore, pushing your boundaries just to see you flinch. You try to keep your distance, but he has a way of getting under your skin. You’re supposed to keep him in check, but the real challenge might be keeping yourself together.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Nickname, Shy!Reader, MENTION!Reader was touched without consent, Ben being as cocky as ever, some kind of fluff i guess

Word Count: 10523 (long ass shit here, lol)

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The room felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Soldier Boy—Ben, as Butcher had instructed you to call him—sat at the battered wooden table in the middle of the safe house. He was grinding pills into powder with the flat of his knife, muttering to himself, the motion aggressive and precise. Every scrape of the blade against the wood sent shivers down your spine.

You kept your eyes fixed on the television, not really watching whatever rerun was playing. It didn’t matter. Nothing could drown out the weight of his presence. The way he dominated the space even when he wasn’t speaking. Even when he wasn’t looking at you.

You didn’t know why he tolerated you. Out of all the people who’d tried to babysit him since Butcher hauled him out of whatever Russian nightmare he’d been buried in, you were the only one still standing. Maybe it was because you didn’t push him. Or maybe it was because you were too afraid to even try.

Two years ago, your fear of supes had been planted like a landmine in your chest. One night, one supe, one scar across your soul. That was all it took to change you forever. Now, being in the same room as one, especially him, felt like walking barefoot through a minefield. One wrong step, and everything could go to hell. Literally, in his case.

Ben scooped the powder into a neat little line, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “You don’t have to sit there like a deer in headlights, you know”, he drawled, not looking up. His voice was gravelly, tinged with a roughness that made you want to shrink further into the couch. “Not gonna bite”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the couch cushion. “I’m fine here”, you said quickly, your voice thin and brittle.

“Sure you are”. He leaned back in his chair, his shirt unbuttoned enough to show a glimpse of the skin of his chest. That chest. The one that could, and had, turned entire blocks into ash. He tapped his nose twice before snorting the line with practiced ease, sighing as he leaned back again. “You’re terrible at pretending, you know that?”.

Your breath hitched, and you cursed yourself for it. He noticed everything. “Pretending what?”, you muttered, eyes glued to the TV screen.

“That you’re not scared shitless of me”, he said, his tone almost amused now. “It’s cute. Kind of pathetic, but cute”.

Your stomach twisted. The urge to snap back at him rose like bile, but you shoved it down. Provoking him was the last thing you wanted to do. Instead, you focused on keeping your voice steady. “I’m not scared of you”.

Ben laughed—deep, low, and sharp enough to make you flinch. “Yeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart”.

You clenched your fists, your nails biting into your palms as you tried to keep your breathing even. This was your job. This was what Butcher had asked of you. Watch over him, keep him in line, don’t let him blow anything up. Easier said than done when every fiber of your being was screaming to get the hell out of there.

Ben finally looked at you, his green eyes narrowing slightly. “Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you”. His tone softened—just barely—but it still sent a shiver down your spine. “Not unless you give me a reason to”.

That didn’t exactly inspire confidence, but you nodded anyway, not trusting yourself to speak.

He reached for another pill, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “You know”, he said, his voice quieter now, “it’s exhausting, being treated like a goddamn bomb all the time”.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, his gaze fixed on the table as he rolled the pill between his fingers. For a moment, he almost seemed… human. Vulnerable.

But you didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say anything. So you just stayed where you were, curled up on the couch, watching him out of the corner of your eye and praying you wouldn’t be the one to set him off.

Ben tossed the pill back, swallowing it dry like it was nothing before reaching for the whiskey bottle on the table. He took a swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood up. For one fleeting second, you thought he might leave the room, give you some space to breathe. But no—he grabbed a bag of popcorn from the counter, ripped it open with his teeth, and made his way to the couch.

You tensed immediately. There were at least three other places he could sit, but no, he dropped himself right beside you. Not just close—touching. His thigh pressed firmly against yours, the heat of him seeping through the fabric of your jeans like a live wire.

Your body locked up, your heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it. You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. If he noticed your discomfort—and of course, he did—he didn’t let on. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes flicking toward the TV screen before turning to you.

“Whatcha watching?”, he asked casually, his voice a little softer now but still holding that rough, unshakable edge.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… whatever was on”.

He snorted. “Riveting choice”. Another handful of popcorn disappeared into his mouth, and he leaned back, spreading out like he owned the place. Which, let’s face it, he kind of did. Every room he entered felt like it bent to him, like the walls themselves were trying to make room for him and his ego.

As the minutes dragged on, he kept up the small talk. About the shitty popcorn, the weather, the ancient couch springs that squeaked every time one of you shifted. His tone was light, conversational, but his eyes… his eyes were anything but.

He wasn’t looking at the TV anymore. He was watching you. Really watching you. The way your shoulders hunched in on themselves like you were trying to make yourself smaller. The way your hands fidgeted with the hem of your hoodie. The way your legs were pressed tightly together, like you were trying to disappear into the cushions.

“You’re tiny”, he said abruptly, almost thoughtfully, his gaze dragging up and down your frame. “Like, seriously. How are you even a person? You’re what, a buck twenty soaking wet?”.

You stiffened, your face flushing. “I’m… normal-sized”, you mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.

He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Normal? Sweetheart, if I even looked at you wrong, you’d probably snap in half”.

Your stomach churned at the words, at the casual way he said them. Like it wasn’t a threat, just a fact. And maybe it was. He wasn’t wrong—he could break you without even trying. Supe or not, he was built like a goddamn tank, and you… well, you weren’t.

His gaze lingered on you, sharp and appraising, like he was trying to figure you out. “What’re you so scared of, huh?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. “You think I’m gonna hurt you?”.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The lump in your throat was too big, your fear too loud.

“Relax, doll”, he said, leaning a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “If I wanted to crush you, I wouldn’t need to waste my time sitting here talking to you, now would I?”.

That didn’t make you feel any better. In fact, it made your skin crawl. But you nodded anyway, because what else could you do?

Ben smirked as he leaned back, stretching his arm casually over the back of the couch. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly, his eyes never leaving you.

“So”, he drawled, cocking an eyebrow. “Got a boyfriend, Peanut?”.

The word caught you off guard, and you glanced at him sharply, your confusion momentarily outweighing your fear. “P-Peanut?”, you stammered, the nickname so unexpected it almost made you forget how close he was.

He grinned, his teeth flashing white against his scruffy beard. “Yeah, Peanut. You’re tiny, right? Probably weigh, what, eighty-five? Ninety pounds tops? I could pick you up with one hand, and you’d barely be a snack”. He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, like he found the whole thing hilarious. “Peanut fits”.

Your face burned with embarrassment, but you didn’t say anything. What could you say? He wasn’t exactly wrong, but hearing it said out loud—especially by him—made you feel smaller than ever. You tucked your legs up under you, trying to create some kind of barrier between his imposing presence and your body.

“C’mon”, he said, his voice lighter now, teasing almost. “You seriously don’t have some guy waiting around for you? Someone to take care of you? Feels like you’d need a bodyguard just to make it through the grocery store”.

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. “No boyfriend”.

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. “Huh. Surprising. A thing like you? I’d think guys would be lining up”.

His words weren’t comforting. They weren’t meant to be. They carried an undertone that made your stomach twist, a reminder of how easily he could take you if he wanted to. You shifted uncomfortably, pulling your hoodie tighter around yourself like it could somehow shield you from the heat of his gaze.

“What’s the matter, Peanut?”, he asked. “I’m just making conversation. You don’t have to look so freaked out all the time”.

“I’m not freaked out”, you lied, your voice trembling just enough to betray you.

He snorted, clearly not buying it. “Sure you’re not”. He leaned forward suddenly, resting his elbows on his knees, bringing himself closer to you. The smell of whiskey and faint cigar smoke clung to him, mingling with something sharper, something distinctly him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. Told you already, didn’t I?”.

You nodded again, but the tension in your body didn’t ease. If anything, it grew worse as his eyes traveled over you again, lingering in ways that made you want to sink into the couch and disappear.

“Man”, he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re wound up tighter than a fucking spring”. He reached for the popcorn bag again, the casual motion a stark contrast to the intensity of his words. “I don’t know what the hell Butcher was thinking, sticking me with you. You’re not exactly intimidating”.

You bristled at that, a tiny flicker of indignation breaking through your fear. “I wasn’t supposed to intimidate you”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m just… here to keep an eye on you”.

He laughed—loud and abrupt, the sound startling in the otherwise quiet room. “You’re supposed to keep an eye on me?”. He leaned back again, throwing one arm across the back of the couch again and grinning down at you like he’d just heard the best joke of his life. “Fuck. That’s rich”.

You didn’t respond, biting your lip to keep the words locked in. You couldn’t afford to snap, couldn’t afford to give him a reason to escalate. Not with how close he was. Not with how easily he could overpower you.

Ben’s laugh faded into a low hum, almost as if he were talking to himself, but the words were loud enough to reach you. “You know”, he muttered, swirling the last of the whiskey in the bottle before setting it on the floor, “I could help you relax. You’re all wound up like a little bird that flew into the wrong fucking cage”.

The comment made your stomach tighten, your pulse spiking as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze wasn’t on the TV. It wasn’t even on the popcorn anymore. It was on you. Slowly, deliberately, like he was working through some kind of internal checklist, his eyes dragged from your face, to your neck, to the way your hoodie hugged your body.

“Yeah”, he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher.

“I’d probably crush you. Tiny little thing like you. But…”. He leaned his head back against the couch, as though considering something deeply. “I could figure it out. Work on my self-restraint”. He exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a laugh, but it didn’t carry any humor. “Not sure you’d survive, though”.

Your throat went dry, and your mind raced for something—anything—to say to steer the conversation somewhere less terrifying. But the words wouldn’t come. It was like your brain had shut down entirely, overwhelmed by the weight of his presence and the dark, unsettling undertone to his words.

“I mean, shit”, he went on, almost lazily, like he was just idly musing. “It’d be a tight fit, no doubt about that. But I’d manage”. He turned his head toward you, one eyebrow quirking as though he was waiting for some kind of reaction. “What d’you think, Peanut? Think you could handle me?”.

Your heart felt like it might explode. You shifted slightly, trying to put even an inch of space between you, but the couch offered no escape. He noticed, of course he noticed, and the smirk on his face only widened.

“Relax”, he said again, though this time it sounded more like a command than a suggestion. “I’m just messing with you”. He leaned back again, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth like the last thirty seconds hadn’t just happened.

But the tension in the air didn’t dissipate. His words lingered, sinking into your mind like oil, staining everything. You didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe too loudly, your entire body coiled as tightly as a spring.

Ben glanced at you again, his expression unreadable now, the grin gone. “You really gotta lighten up, Peanut”, he said, almost absently. “You’re making me feel like a fucking monster”.

You wanted to tell him he wasn’t making it easy. That his very presence was suffocating. That every word out of his mouth only fed the gnawing pit of fear in your stomach. But you couldn’t. So you stayed silent, staring at the TV and praying that he’d get bored soon. That the night would end without him pushing any further.

Ben shifted slightly on the couch, the springs groaning under his weight. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling as if lost in thought, but you could feel his attention still anchored on you, heavy and unrelenting.

“You know”, he started, his voice low and casual, “I heard Butcher and that cum-guzzler talking about you”. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as though giving himself time to savor the words that would follow. “Something about why you’re so jumpy around supes”.

Your heart clenched, and you went rigid. You hadn’t realized Butcher had told him—why would he? What purpose would it serve, giving Soldier Boy ammunition? You glanced at him sharply, trying to gauge his intentions, but his expression was frustratingly neutral, save for the slight quirk of a smirk playing on his lips.

He chuckled, low and gravelly, shaking his head. “Can’t say I blame you”, he continued. “Sounds like you had a real shitty time of it. Some asshole supe gets a little too handsy, decides he’s owed something just because he’s got powers. That about right?”.

The knot in your stomach tightened, but you didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat felt like it was closing, the weight of his words pulling every horrible memory to the surface.

Ben didn’t seem to need a response. He let out a long breath, his smirk fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “Here’s the thing, Peanut”, he said, his tone quieter now, almost contemplative. “Guys like that… they give the rest of us a bad name. Not that I give a shit about my reputation, but, you know, principle and all that”.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why… why are you bringing this up?”.

He shrugged, the motion casual, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed him. “Just thinking out loud. If that’s the only experience you’ve got with supes… well, no wonder you’re scared shitless. That’s the memory you’re stuck with”. His gaze slid to you, sharp and probing. “But maybe I could fix that”.

“Fix it?”, you echoed, your voice trembling. “What… what does that mean?”.

He smirked again, leaning back and stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing just a hair’s breadth away from your shoulder. “I’m just saying”, he drawled, “maybe if you had a different kind of experience, you wouldn’t be so fucking scared all the time. Replace that shitty memory with a fucking awesome one”.

The implication in his words was crystal clear, and your stomach churned violently. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your hoodie, your nails digging into your palms. “That’s not…”. You trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. “That’s not how it works”.

He tilted his head, studying you with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “You sure about that? Sometimes all it takes is one good memory to wipe out the bad. One moment to make you forget the rest of the bullshit”.

You shook your head, your pulse hammering in your ears. “I don’t think—”.

“Calm down, Peanut”, he interrupted, his voice dropping into that low, commanding tone again. “I’m not saying I’d do anything. Unless, you know, you wanted me to”.

Your breath hitched, and you pressed yourself further into the couch, as if the cushions could somehow swallow you whole. His gaze was piercing, unrelenting, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, suffocating.

“But hey”, he continued after a moment, his tone lightening again as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. “It’s your call. I’m just saying… I could make it worth your while”.

You didn’t respond, couldn’t respond. Your mind was racing, your body frozen in place.

The safe house was quiet except for the distant hum of the water running in the bathroom. Ben was in the shower, and you were stuck on the couch, your nerves coiled tighter than ever. It had been weeks since that first night, weeks of this strange, unbearable dance between the two of you. He hadn’t pushed things too far, but he hadn’t stopped either. The teasing, the lingering touches, the weight of his gaze—it was constant, suffocating, impossible to ignore.

And now, as you sat there waiting for him, you hated yourself for the stupid summer dress you’d chosen to wear. It was hot, unbearably so, and the safe house didn’t have air conditioning. The dress had seemed like a practical choice at the time—lightweight, easy to move in—but now it felt like a mistake. The fabric clung to your skin and you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Vulnerable.

You shifted uncomfortably, pulling the dress down as far as it would go and wrapping your arms around yourself. It didn’t help. The room felt stifling, and the faint sound of the shower only added to the tension. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering, couldn’t stop the little voice whispering in the back of your head: What’s he going to say this time? What’s he going to do?

The shower shut off, and your breath caught. You stared at the TV, not really seeing it, your heart pounding as you heard the sound of the bathroom door creaking open.

Moments later, Ben emerged, a towel slung low around his hips and his hair damp, water droplets trailing down his chest. He was a vision of raw power and confidence, and he knew it. The smirk tugging at his lips told you as much.

“Hey, Peanut”, he said casually, like this was the most normal thing in the world. He grabbed a second towel and ran it through his hair, his muscles flexing with the motion. “Didn’t think I’d keep you waiting, did you?”.

You swallowed hard, your eyes darting back to the TV. “I wasn’t—”, you started, but your voice faltered. “I mean, I’m fine”.

“Sure you are”, he said, chuckling under his breath. He crossed the room, tossing the towel onto a chair as he made his way to the couch. You felt his presence before you saw him, the heat of him, the sheer weight of him, as he sat down beside you. Close. Too close. Again.

His eyes flicked to your dress, lingering for just a moment before he leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the couch. “Nice dress”, he commented, his tone light but his gaze sharp. “Didn’t know we were getting all dressed up today”.

Your face burned, and you tugged at the hem again, wishing it were longer. “It’s just… it’s hot”, you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“That it is”, he agreed, his smirk widening. “But you didn’t have to go all out for me, Peanut. A little effort goes a long way, though, so… thanks”.

You clenched your jaw, your hands twisting the fabric of the dress in your lap. “I didn’t—”.

“I’m just messing with you. Don’t get so wound up”, his voice dropping into that familiar, teasing drawl.

You wanted to snap back, wanted to tell him to knock it off, but you couldn’t. You just sat there, frozen, your heart pounding as he shifted slightly closer, the edge of his thigh brushing against yours.

The problem wasn’t just that you were afraid of Ben anymore—though that fear was still there, lurking beneath every breath, every glance, every word. The problem was that, over the past few weeks, something else had crept in, something worse.

Attraction.

You hated yourself for it. Hated the way your pulse quickened when he smirked at you, the way your thoughts lingered on his voice, deep and rough like gravel underfoot. And now, as you sat beside him, that stupid towel slung so dangerously low on his hips, it was taking everything you had to keep your eyes on the TV.

But you failed. Of course, you did. Your gaze flicked toward him out of the corner of your eye, drawn like a moth to a flame. The towel clung to his hips precariously, the line of dark hair below his navel trailing downward, disappearing beneath the fabric. And lower—your breath hitched—the outline of him was visible, faint but undeniable.

You quickly looked away, your cheeks burning, your heart hammering in your chest. What the hell is wrong with me? you thought, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it almost hurt. This was Soldier Boy. Ben. The same man who teased you relentlessly, who could crush you without a second thought. A damn supe. And yet…

“You’re quiet, Peanut”, he said suddenly, his voice breaking through your frantic thoughts. His tone was casual, but you knew better than to believe it wasn’t deliberate. He always knew how to needle you just enough to get under your skin. “I mean, you’re always quiet, but today? What’s the deal?”.

You didn’t respond, your throat too dry to form a coherent excuse. You tried to keep your eyes locked on the TV, pretending to focus on the images flickering across the screen. But you could feel him watching you, the heat of his gaze sliding over your profile, lingering far too long for comfort.

“C’mon”, he pressed, his voice dropping an octave, rich and deep enough to make your stomach do an unwelcome flip. “You’re the only action I’ve got in this shithole they’re hiding me in. Least you could do is talk to me. I’m bored as hell over here”.

Your hands twisted in your lap, gripping the fabric of your dress like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not with the way his words made your skin flush and your heart pound.

“I don’t know what to say”, you mumbled finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben leaned back against the couch, his towel shifting just slightly. “You don’t have to say much, Peanut”, he drawled, his smirk audible in his tone. “Just give me something. Anything. Hell, even a complaint about how much you hate being stuck with me. I know you’ve got those”.

You glanced at him for just a split second, and that was your mistake. He was sprawled out, all lazy confidence, the towel still clinging low on his hips, the light from the TV casting faint shadows over his chest. The sight made your stomach twist, and you quickly looked away again, your cheeks burning.

“I don’t hate you”, you blurted out, immediately regretting it.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Don’t you now?”. His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just slightly, the arm draped over the back of the couch brushing your shoulder. “Could’ve fooled me with the way you can’t even look at me half the time”.

You swallowed hard, your fingers knotting into the hem of your dress. “I just…”, you stammered, unsure how to explain without giving away too much. “You make me nervous”.

Ben tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost curious. “Nervous, huh?”, he repeated, his voice quieter now, like he was mulling over the word. “Why? You still think I’m gonna hurt you?”.

“No”, you said quickly, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind. “It’s not that”.

“Then what?”, he asked, his tone deceptively gentle, but his gaze was sharp, unrelenting. “What is it about me that’s got you so wound up?”.

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Your silence only seemed to amuse him further. He let out a low chuckle, leaning back again, his fingers lightly drumming against the armrest.

“Shit, Peanut”, he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re like a puzzle I can’t quite figure out. Makes me want to push, see how far you’ll bend before you break”.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, but you forced yourself to keep your breathing steady, to keep your focus anywhere but on him. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep this up, this fragile pretense of calm, but you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let this go. Not tonight.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your thighs, pushing yourself up from the couch. “I… I need some water”, you mumbled, not daring to look at him. You didn’t wait for his response—if he even had one—and walked quickly toward the little kitchen tucked into the corner of the safe house.

Your footsteps felt too loud against the worn wooden floor, the tiny kitchen offering no real reprieve from his presence. You grabbed a glass from the cupboard, your fingers trembling slightly as you filled it from the tap. You told yourself the sound of running water would drown out the pounding of your heart, but it didn’t.

The quiet click of his footsteps behind you made you freeze.

“Thirsty, huh?”, Ben’s voice came from far too close, his tone casual but laced with that ever-present teasing edge. He was right behind you now—you could feel him, his heat radiating like a furnace, the space between you barely a breath.

“I just needed some space”, you said, your voice quiet and shaky, gripping the glass like it was a lifeline.

“Space?”, he echoed, like the word was foreign to him. You heard him shift, his hand brushing lightly against the counter as he leaned against it. “Still can’t handle being near me?”.

You froze, the glass trembling slightly in your hands as you felt him step even closer. His body was right behind yours now, close enough that you could feel the faint brush of his chest against your back every time you shifted.

“You look really pretty today”, he murmured, his voice softer now, quieter, but no less unsettling. His words sent a shiver racing down your spine, and you gripped the glass tighter, your knuckles turning white.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hair, playing with a loose strand like it was the most natural thing in the world. The movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were testing your reaction.

“Didn’t think a little dress like that could make someone so…”. He trailed off, his fingers gently tucking the strand behind your ear from behind, his touch warm against your skin. “Sweet. You do surprise me, Peanut”.

Your heart pounded, your breath catching in your throat. “Ben, please…”, you whispered, barely able to get the words out. You didn’t know what you were asking for—for him to stop, to step back, to leave you alone—but your voice carried the weight of your unease.

“Oh c'mon now”, he murmured, his tone dipping into that low, velvety register that always made your stomach twist. “I’m just saying you look nice. No harm in that, right?”.

His hand lingered for a moment longer, brushing lightly against your shoulder, before he stepped back just enough to give you a fraction of space. But it didn’t feel like enough. The air around you still felt heavy, charged with his presence.

“You don’t take compliments well, do you?”, he asked, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice as he leaned casually against the counter. “What’s so scary about me telling you you’re pretty?”.

“Nothing”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben’s gaze dropped, shamelessly traveling down your body. You could feel it, the weight of his eyes lingering on your legs. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and you caught the faint movement out of the corner of your eye. It sent a fresh wave of heat through your face, your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, almost contemplative, “it’s been quite a while for me.” He leaned a little closer, his arm brushing lightly against yours as he rested it on the counter beside you. “And with you here, looking like that, acting all shy and innocent…”.

He trailed off, his smirk widening as his gaze dragged back up to meet yours. “It’s really hard for me, Peanut”.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and your breath caught in your throat. Your grip tightened on the edge of the counter, your knuckles white as you fought to keep yourself grounded. “Ben, stop”, you said softly, your voice barely audible, but there was a tremble in it you couldn’t hide.

“Stop what?”, he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t innocent, not even close. “I’m just being honest. You don’t want me to lie, do you?”.

You turned your head to look at him, your heart pounding as you met his gaze. His smirk was maddening, equal parts charming and infuriating, and the way he was looking at you—like he was sizing you up, deciding just how far he could push—made your pulse race for all the wrong reasons.

“I’m not… I’m not doing anything”, you stammered, your words tumbling over themselves. “I’m just—”.

“Just standing there, looking all sweet and pretty”, he interrupted, his tone playful. He straightened slightly, his height and presence towering over you as he leaned a little closer. “You have no idea, do you? How hard you make it for me to keep my hands to myself?”.

Your breath hitched, and you stepped back instinctively, the counter digging into your lower back as you put as much distance between you as you could in the small space. But he didn’t move closer—he just stayed there, watching you, his smirk softening into something almost… curious.

Ben’s smirk deepened as he watched you, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was peeling back every layer of your defenses. “You know”, he murmured, his voice soft but still carrying that teasing edge, “I think you actually like me, Peanut”.

Your eyes widened at his words, and you shook your head quickly, your back pressing harder against the counter. “That’s not true”, you said, your voice trembling with the effort to sound convincing.

But he didn’t seem fazed. If anything, your reaction only amused him more. His hand darted out, slow and deliberate, resting gently on your hip. It wasn’t forceful, wasn’t threatening—it was almost careful, like he was testing the waters, giving you a chance to stop him.

Your breath hitched, and your body tensed under his touch. The heat of his palm burned through the thin fabric of your dress, the weight of his hand grounding you and overwhelming you all at once.

“You’re not pushing me away”, he said softly, his voice dropping lower, more intimate. His fingers flexed slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you he was there. “That’s gotta count for something”.

You opened your mouth to say something, to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, but no words came out. You were frozen, caught in the weight of his gaze, the closeness of him, the way his presence consumed every inch of space around you.

His other hand came up slowly, brushing against a strand of hair that had fallen into your face. He tucked it behind your ear, his touch featherlight, his green eyes locking onto yours. “You keep telling yourself you’re scared of me”, he murmured, his tone quiet, almost tender. “But I think you’re scared of something else”.

“Ben, I…”. Your voice cracked, and you trailed off, your hands clutching the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright.

“Shh”, he whispered, his hand on your hip shifting just slightly, his thumb brushing against the curve of your waist. “You don’t have to say anything, Peanut. Not if you don’t want to”.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your uneven breathing, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the corner. His touch wasn’t rough or demanding, but it was firm, grounding, impossible to ignore.

And then, slowly, he leaned in, his face close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “Just… Push me away if you want me to stop. Promise I won´t be mad”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his lips so close to yours you could feel the ghost of their presence.

Your heart pounded, your mind racing with conflicting emotions—fear, confusion, and something far more dangerous bubbling beneath the surface. You hated how much you craved his attention, hated how much his touch made your body betray you. But even as you stood there, frozen, his words echoed in your mind: Push me away.

Would you? Could you?

The choice was yours.

Bot you didn’t push him away. You stayed still, your breath hitching as Ben’s smirk deepened. He took your silence as permission—or maybe just a challenge he was eager to win.

Without a word, his hands slid more firmly around your waist. Before you could even process what was happening, he lifted you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. The glass of water slipped from your fingers, landing with a dull clink on the counter as he set you down atop it. The cool surface against the back of your thighs made you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat radiating from him.

He stepped closer, pressing himself between your legs, his movements deliberate and unyielding. Your legs opened instinctively to accommodate him, the fabric of your dress sliding up as you shifted. The hem bunched high on your thighs, and your stomach dropped when you realized how exposed you were. The little triangle of fabric between your legs was on full display, and Ben’s gaze dropped to it immediately, his lips curling into a wolfish grin.

“Well, would you look at that”, he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the faintest edge of amusement making it all the more dangerous. His hands trailed down to your knees, his thumbs brushing against the inside of your thighs, sending a shock of warmth through your body. “Peanut, you’ve been holding out on me”.

You squirmed, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as if it could anchor you against the storm of his presence. “Ben…”, you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going.

“Shh”, he said softly, his hands sliding higher, spreading your legs further apart. “I told you, I’m not gonna hurt you”.

But the way he looked at you—the hunger in his eyes, the possessive way his hands claimed your body—made your pulse race for entirely different reasons. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your neck as he pressed his hips against yours, his body firm and unyielding.

“You have no idea”, he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. “No idea how hard it’s been. Watching you, waiting for you to stop running, stop hiding. But now…”. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Now I’ve got you right where I want you”.

Your heart pounded, your mind spinning as his hands continued their slow, deliberate exploration of your body. You hated how your body reacted to him, how the heat pooled low in your belly, how your breathing quickened despite yourself. Hated how much you wanted him, even when you knew you shouldn’t.

And Ben—he knew it, too. You could see it in his smirk, in the way his eyes burned with triumph. He was in control, and he knew it. You wanted him, and that he sure knew too.

Ben’s smirk deepened as his hands slid higher, his thumbs brushing teasingly against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. His touch was firm but not rough, as if he were savoring every moment. He leaned back slightly to get a better look, his eyes darkening as they locked onto the little triangle of fabric barely covering you.

“You know”, he murmured, his voice low and full of heat, “I’ve been imagining this for weeks. But it’s even better than I thought”.

You opened your mouth to respond—to say something—but the words caught in your throat once more as he hooked a finger under the fabric. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, a wicked gleam in his green eyes as he gave you - again - just enough time to stop him.

But you didn’t.

With a sharp, controlled movement, he ripped the delicate material apart, the sound of tearing fabric echoing in the quiet kitchen. The force of it sent a jolt through your body, but it didn’t hurt. It was more of a shock—both from the action itself and the way his eyes devoured the sight before him.

Your breath hitched as the ruined panties fell away, leaving you bare to him. His hands stilled for a moment, his gaze fixated on your glistening, perfectly shaven lips. A low growl rumbled in his throat, his fingers tightening ever so slightly on your thighs.

”Fuck peanut”, he muttered, his voice rough with desire. “Look at you”.

Ben’s grip on your thighs tightened as his eyes darkened, roaming over every inch of you like you were something he was about to own. He let out a low, gravelly chuckle, shaking his head with that familiar smirk—cocky and unapologetically lewd.

“Is this what chicks are doing these days? All shaved, all fucking spotless?”. His thumb traced lazily along your inner thigh, teasing just close enough to make you squirm. “In the ’80s, everyone had a damn jungle down here. Didn’t matter who you were, movie star or some chick at a dive bar—hair everywhere. But this?”.

His thumb slid lower, brushing over the seam of your closed, glistening lips. The slickness made his touch effortless, his rough hands stark against your softness. “This is a whole fucking upgrade”, he murmured, almost to himself, his tone filthy and raw. “Smooth as hell… fuck Peanut, you’re like a fucking dream”.

Ben’s eyes stayed glued between your legs, completely enthralled, like he was witnessing something unreal. The pad of his thumb pressed further, parting your slick lips with almost lazy confidence. He slid it down to your entrance, where he paused, testing the way your body reacted to him.

“Fuck me”, he muttered under his breath, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. “You’re soaked, Peanut. Look at this. Look at you”.

Your breath hitched audibly, your chest rising and falling as his thumb pressed lightly against your entrance, his other hand tightening its grip on your thigh to keep you exactly where he wanted you. His touch was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the moment.

“You’re fucking perfect”, he murmured, half to himself.

Ben’s thumb dipped just barely inside you, and the moment he felt how tight you were, he froze. His breath hitched, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he pulled his hand back. His grip on your thigh tightened, grounding himself as he muttered under his breath, “No fucking way. Not with my fingers. I’m not wasting this on anything but my dick”.

His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, filled with a dark hunger that sent a shiver racing down your spine. He took a deep breath, his smirk returning as he dragged his hands up the outside of your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress higher as he went.

“You’re something else, Peanut”, he growled, his voice thick and unapologetically filthy. “This body, this tight little hole… it’s all mine”.

He grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it upward with slow, deliberate movements, giving you every chance to stop him. But you didn’t. Instead, you lifted your arms instinctively, your breath catching in your throat as you helped him pull the dress over your head. The fabric slipped away easily, pooling on the floor beside the counter, leaving you bare except for your trembling body beneath his gaze.

Ben stepped back slightly, just enough to take you in, his eyes roaming over every inch of your exposed skin with raw, unfiltered desire. He let out a low whistle, his lips curving into a grin that was both predatory and approving.

“You’re even better than I imagined”. His hands moved back to your waist, firm and possessive as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, positioning you exactly where he wanted you.

“You don’t even realize, do you?”, he muttered, his hands trailing over your hips, your stomach, your thighs, like he couldn’t get enough of touching you. “How fucking perfect you are. How fucking lucky I am”.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, “I told you, Peanut. You’re mine now. Every inch of you”.

With one swift motion, Ben pulled the towel from his hips and tossed it carelessly to the side, revealing himself fully. Your eyes widened the moment you saw him—huge, heavy, and impossibly intimidating. A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you instinctively pressed your hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

But he didn’t budge.

Your heart raced, panic and uncertainty flooding your senses. You weren’t a virgin, but this… this was different. The sheer size of him made your stomach twist with both fear and something else you didn’t want to name.

“Whoa there, Peanut”, Ben murmured, his voice low and teasing, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes as he glanced down at himself, then back at you. “Scared already? Thought you said you weren’t afraid of me”.

“I just…”, you stammered, your palms pressing harder against his chest, but he didn’t move. He stood there, unyielding, his muscles firm under your touch as he watched you with that same maddening smirk.

“Relax”, he said again, his tone dipping into that familiar mix of amusement and raw lust.

Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, your eyes wide and fixed on him. “This… this won’t fit. No way”.

Ben’s smirk deepened, the gleam in his eyes turning even more smug, like your fear only fed his ego. He let out a low chuckle, his broad chest rumbling under your trembling hands. “Won’t fit, huh?”, he repeated, his tone dripping with amusement. “You really think I’d let that stop me?”.

Your breath hitched, your fingers curling slightly against his chest as you tried to pull back, but his hands on your hips held you firmly in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. “Don’t sell yourself short, Peanut. You’ll take it. You just need a little… encouragement”.

Your stomach twisted at his words, a mix of fear and heat flooding your senses. “Ben, I—”, you started, but he cut you off, his hands sliding slowly up your sides, strong and possessive.

“I’ll make it fit”, he murmured, his voice low and dripping with confidence.

One of his hands moved between your bodies, and your breath hitched as he grabbed himself, his cock heavy and intimidating in his hand. His green eyes flicked up to yours briefly, watching your reaction.

“Just.. relax, Peanut”, he said softly, almost mockingly, as he positioned himself. “This is gonna feel real good. Trust me”.

You bit your lip hard as you felt the tip of him slide through your slick lips, the slow, deliberate motion making your body jolt with unexpected pleasure. The contrast of his roughness and your softness was overwhelming, your hips twitching instinctively as his thick head dragged against you.

“Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on where your bodies touched. “You’re already soaking for me. You feel that, Peanut? That’s your body telling you it wants this. Wants me”.

A shaky whimper escaped your lips, and you hated yourself for the sound, for how much you wanted him. The warmth, the pressure, the way he moved—it was too much, too intense, too consuming.

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing over your thigh as he kept guiding himself against you, letting his tip tease your entrance but not pushing in just yet. “Look at you”, he muttered. “Already whining, and I haven’t even given you the real thing yet”.

You bit your lip harder, trying to stifle another whimper. His free hand slid up your side, gripping your waist possessively as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Don’t hold back now, Peanut", he growled. “I want to hear every little sound you make. Wanna know how much you’re feeling this”.

The heat pooling low in your belly was unbearable, your body trembling as he continued his slow, torturous motions. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but the weight of him was enough to leave you breathless.

Ben’s cocky smirk softened just slightly as he began to nudge himself inside you, his movements surprisingly slow and deliberate. He pressed forward an inch at a time, giving you room to adjust to his size. His hands gripped your hips firmly, keeping you steady as he worked himself in, his gaze locked on your face.

“Fuck, Peanut”, he muttered under his breath, the usual arrogance in his tone giving way to something deeper, rougher. “Tight as hell. I knew you’d feel good, but this? Fuck”.

You winced at the stretch, your body instinctively tensing around him as he pushed in further. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing as he paused, letting you adjust. “I know, baby. It’s a lot. But you’re doing good. So fucking good”.

Your hands gripped his forearms, your nails digging into his skin as he slid another inch deeper, the burn of the stretch making you gasp. “Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you”, he said, his voice steady and firm, his thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin in a rare gesture of comfort. “You’ll get used to it. Just breathe”.

You tried to focus on his words, on the way he moved so slowly, giving you time to adjust to every inch of him. The stretch was still intense, still bordering on too much, but as he eased in further, your body began to relax, the pain giving way to a different kind of pressure.

“That’s it”, he murmured, his lips quirking into a small smirk as he watched you. “See? I told you you’d take it, Peanut”.

You couldn’t form a response, your breath hitching again as he pushed in another inch. He groaned softly, his head falling forward briefly, his self-control evident in the way his muscles tensed under your touch.

Your body trembled, the overwhelming fullness leaving you unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. He stayed still, his hands firm on your hips, his gaze softening just slightly as he gave you a moment to adjust.

“You’re doing so good, Peanut”, he said, his voice low and almost gentle, though the hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded. “Just a little more, and then I’ll make you feel real fucking good. I promise”.

Ben pushed in further, inch by inch, until he finally bottomed out, his hips pressing flush against yours. The sheer fullness, the stretch, was almost too much, and a breathless moan escaped your lips, mixed with a high-pitched whine that you couldn’t suppress. The sound seemed to drive him wild.

“Fuck”, Ben groaned, his head dropping forward to rest against your collarbone as his hands tightened on your hips. His breathing was ragged, and his entire body seemed to tense as he fought to keep himself in check. “You feel… Fuck, Peanut. You’re so fucking tight”.

You trembled under him, your hands instinctively clutching his broad shoulders as you tried to adjust to the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely. He was so big, stretching you to your limits, and every inch of him pressed against places you didn’t even know could feel like this.

“Ben”, you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure if you were pleading for him to move or to give you more time to adjust.

“I know, baby”, he muttered, his voice gravelly and low, muffled against your skin. “I know. Just… fuck, just give me a second”. He groaned again, a deep, primal sound that vibrated through your chest, his hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“You’re perfect”, he murmured, lifting his head slightly to press his forehead against yours. His green eyes burned into yours, dark with lust and something deeper, something almost reverent. “Fucking perfect. You don’t even know what you’re doing to me”.

You let out a shaky breath, your body slowly relaxing more around him as he stayed still, letting you adjust to the fullness. His hands moved to cradle your thighs, spreading you wider as he groaned softly again, his lips brushing against your jawline.

“Breathe, Peanut”, he said, his voice softening for a moment as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your skin. “Just breathe. You’re taking me so damn well”.

The praise sent a rush of warmth through your body, making you shiver against him. Slowly, he began to pull back just an inch, testing, watching your reaction with sharp, hungry eyes. The drag of him against your sensitive walls made your breath hitch, and his smirk returned as he groaned again.

“Yeah”, he growled, his voice thick as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re gonna love this, Peanut. I’ll make sure of it”.

Ben groaned deeply as he began to move, the drag of his length against your tight walls slow and deliberate. He pulled back just enough to make you feel every inch before sinking back in, his hips pressing flush against yours once more. The stretch still made you wince, but the intensity of the sensation was quickly mingling with something warmer, something almost unbearable.

“Shit”, he muttered against your collarbone, his breath hot and ragged. His lips grazed your skin, his teeth scraping lightly as he fought to keep his pace measured. “You’re squeezing me so damn tight. Like you were fucking made for me”.

A breathless whimper escaped you as he thrust again, a little deeper, a little harder. The fullness was still overwhelming, but with every slow, calculated movement, your body started to adjust, to mold to him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and he smirked against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you clung to him.

Ben’s thrusts grew harder, his hips snapping into yours with more purpose, more force. The sound of your bodies meeting filled the room, raw and intimate, but you bit your lip, desperate to keep quiet.

But Ben noticed. Of course, he noticed.

“Peanut”, he growled, his voice low and commanding, roughened by pleasure. He angled his hips just slightly, hitting a spot that made your back arch involuntarily. “Don’t you fucking hold back on me”.

A soft whimper escaped you, and his smirk returned, wicked and dangerous. “That’s more like it”, he muttered, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he thrust again, harder this time. “I want to hear you. Every. Fucking. Sound”.

You clenched your teeth, your nails digging harder into his shoulders as you fought to keep quiet, but it was no use. His pace was relentless now, each movement deliberate, dragging pleasure and desperation out of you with every stroke.

“C’mon, baby”, he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t be shy. I want to hear how much you love this. Want to hear you beg me for more”.

You shook your head weakly, trying to resist, but when he thrust again, deeper than before, a moan slipped past your lips, raw and unrestrained. Ben groaned in response, the sound rough and guttural as he rocked into you harder.

“Fuck, that’s it”, he growled, his teeth scraping against your neck as he buried himself to the hilt again. “That’s the sound I’ve been waiting for. Knew you couldn’t stay quiet forever”.

Your breath hitched as he moved faster, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands moved up to grip your waist, holding you steady as he claimed every inch of you, his lips grazing your skin as he spoke again.

“You feel that?”, he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Feel how perfectly you’re taking me? That tight little body of yours was made for this, Peanut. Made for me”.

You couldn’t hold back anymore, your soft moans turning into desperate whimpers as he pushed you further and further. His words, his touch, the sheer intensity of him—it was too much, too overwhelming. And Ben—he soaked in every sound, every tremble, every gasp, his grin widening as he kept driving into you like he couldn’t get enough.

“That’s my girl”, he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your face as his eyes locked onto yours. “Now stop holding back and let me hear it all”.

Ben could feel it—the way your body tightened around him, your walls fluttering as you approached the edge. His pace didn’t falter; if anything, it became sharper, more deliberate, each thrust angled perfectly to drive you closer to unraveling completely.

“You’re close, aren’t you, Peanut?”, he murmured. “I can feel it. You’re squeezing me like you don’t wanna let go”.

You whimpered, your nails raking against his shoulders as the pressure in your core built to an unbearable intensity. Your head fell back, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, but Ben wasn’t about to let you hide from him.

“Uh-uh”, he said sharply, his hands gripping your hips harder as he slowed his thrusts just enough to regain your attention. “Don’t you fucking look away”.

Your eyes fluttered open, your gaze hazy and unfocused as you tried to meet his. His green eyes burned with intensity, dark with hunger and something possessive that made your stomach twist. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against yours, his movements deliberate and unyielding as he pushed you closer and closer.

“When you come”, he growled, his voice rough and commanding, “you look at me, Peanut. Got it?”.

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling as you teetered on the edge. He thrust harder, deeper, his rhythm relentless now, each motion pulling soft cries from your lips that you couldn’t control.

“That’s it”, he muttered, his gaze locked on yours, unyielding. “That’s my girl. Let me see it. Let me see you fall apart for me”.

The final thrust sent you over the edge, your body clenching tightly around him as your release crashed through you. Your eyes locked onto his, your vision blurring with the intensity of it, and Ben groaned deeply, the sound rough and raw as he watched every second of your undoing.

“Fuck, Peanut”, he muttered, his voice strained as your walls gripped him like a vice. “You’re so fucking perfect like this”.

Your body trembled as the waves of pleasure coursed through you, and even as you came undone beneath him, Ben didn’t stop. His movements slowed just enough to let you ride out your high, his hands firm and steady on your hips as he kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“Fucking beautiful when you come. Told you I’d make you love this”, he murmured, his smirk returning as he leaned in to brush his lips against your ear.

Ben wasn’t close to being done with you—not by a long shot. After a moment of catching his breath, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the couch and sitting down with you straddling his lap. His hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you as he eased you down onto him again. The stretch made your breath hitch all over again, but your body had already molded to him, making it easier this time.

“You’re not done yet, Peanut”, he murmured, his voice low and smug, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Not until I’ve had my fill”.

You didn’t know how much more you could take, but your body responded on instinct, your arms wrapping around his neck as he thrust up into you, slow and steady. Every motion sent shivers through you, the pressure building again despite how spent you already felt. His hands roamed your body, gripping, caressing, holding you steady as he moved beneath you.

Time blurred. You lost count of how many times he made you come—how many times your body tensed, shook, and fell apart in his arms. Ben took his time, alternating between hard, commanding movements and surprising moments of gentleness, as though savoring every second. His voice was a constant in your ear, filthy and possessive, coaxing every moan, whimper, and gasp out of you like they belonged to him.

By the time you collapsed against his chest, your body spent and trembling, you couldn’t even think straight. Your breaths came in soft, shaky gasps, your cheek resting against his chest. Ben’s hands moved to your back, stroking gently now, his touch grounding as you slowly came down from the overwhelming high.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice softer now. “You’re done, baby. You’ve earned your rest”.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you securely against him as he leaned back into the couch. The tension in your body eased, and you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his body lulling you into a daze.

Surprisingly, Ben didn’t push for more. He simply held you, his rough hands surprisingly gentle as they traced lazy circles on your back. His cocky smirk had softened into something almost content, his head resting against the back of the couch as he watched you drift off.

“Guess I wore you out”, he muttered, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shifted slightly to make you more comfortable. “Can’t say I blame you, Peanut. You did good”.

You didn’t respond—couldn’t respond—as sleep overtook you. Completely spent, your body went limp against him, your soft breaths warm against his skin as you passed out in his arms. And for once, Ben didn’t press or tease. He just stayed there, holding you close, his gaze lingering on you with something almost resembling pride.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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pedroscurls · 2 days ago

Text

training partners (pt. 12)

summary: without another word from jack, you and hugh continue your relationship without any issue or distraction. filming comes close to an end and there's one scene that hugh needs your assistance with. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), lots of oil (duh, someone's gotta lube hugh up for that end scene), dirty talk, teasing, sex in hugh's trailer, oral - f & m receiving, unprotected p in v, swallowing, missionary, hugh covers your mouth (to keep you quiet), implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth lol. i had to write something about this scene because when hugh said that there were people whose sole job was to lube him up??? well, let's just say my mind went places lol. hope y'all enjoy! (needed some good fluff / smut before we get back into the angst hehe) as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

Filming continues and you’re grateful that Jack hasn’t tried to reach out to you nor does he try to look for you either. Knowing that he got the hint that you no longer are giving him control of your life, it gives you relief. You feel like you can finally breathe again, can finally move forward with your life, with Hugh.

Without worrying about Jack coming back, you’re able to get back to enjoying your day-to-day responsibilities of continuing to take photographs on set of the movie. Every day, you wake up feeling immensely grateful for Hugh, Ryan, and Shawn for giving you this opportunity. While you normally take photographs of couples who have recently gotten engaged and have occasionally worked a small wedding, being an on-set photographer and capturing behind the scenes content is so much more enjoyable. It gives you a glimpse of how movies are made, shows you the passion and dedication of each cast and crew member.

But Hugh… you had always been a fan of his work and being able to see him in his element left you speechless every time. The way he’s able to switch into character so easily and become Logan Howlett - a character that you’ve always loved.

Throughout filming, you’re just in awe of everyone on set and to be able to see the movie unfold right before your eyes is an experience that you’re sure will only happen once in a lifetime.

And as the end of filming fast approaches, you embrace every second of every day you’re on set. You find that you fall more in love with Hugh, watching him interact with every single person and making sure that they feel seen and heard - he truly is perfect, and a really good man, and you have to wonder what you did to deserve him.

Hugh hadn’t brought up Jack in months since the last argument you both had and you’re grateful. You never wanted Jack to ever be the reason to get in between you and Hugh. While you feel partially responsible, you have come to realize that it was bound to happen eventually. It was naive to think that Hugh wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.

“So,” Hugh says, pulling you from your thoughts as you both remain lying in bed, limbs entangled after yet another intimate session of lovemaking.

“Hm?” You ask, turning to look over at him as your fingertips run across his bare chest.

“How are we going to go back to New York and not be with each other every night and morning?”

You arch a brow in his direction. You know what he’s implying and he’s just staring at you with a small smile. A hopeful smile. “I don’t know about you, but I’m glad to have my own space after–,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

Hugh narrows his eyes and moves to hover above you, hands grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your heads. You’re both still naked and he makes sure to press his hips into you. You can feel him getting harder and harder by the second.

“Wanna say that again, baby?”

“How are you getting hard again?” You ask, lifting your hips to roll against his.

“You make it easy,” he winks. “Now, don’t go and change the subject.”

“Well, that’s really difficult when you’re literally distracting me!”

Hugh smirks, his grip around your wrist tightening as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. “You ain’t gonna miss me?” He whispers, moving his hips as his tip brush against you. “Not gonna miss sleeping next to me and waking up next to me, baby?”

“Hugh…” your eyes flutter and your legs wrap around his hips, locking your ankles at his lower back. “I will… I will miss you. I was just teasing and–”

Hugh grins and slides into you in one thrust, growling as your walls surround him. “That’s what I thought.”

—

Later that week, you’re staring up at Hugh who’s grinning down at you. You’re in his trailer and he’s already in his Wolverine suit - albeit a little dirtier than when he first put it on and his arms now in full display.

“You’re telling me that I will need to oil you up?” You ask, eyes wide. “For what? Why? Oh my god, I’m gonna– How will I do that?!”

“Well, you put oil on your hands and–”

“Okay, ha ha.” You roll your eyes playfully, feeling his hands move to your hips. “Hugh…”

“What? You want someone else to oil me up? That it? First you say you won’t miss me when we go back home, that you want your space, and now you don’t wanna touch me?” He teases with a smirk. “What’s next, baby?”

“Oh stop, you’re being dramatic.” You laugh quietly, looking into his eyes.

“So, you’ll oil me up?” He grins.

“If I must,” you tease. “But you owe me.”

“Oh, baby, just you wait.” He winks.

“What does the scene even consist of where I have to put oil on you?”

“You’ll see.”

“Not even a hint?”

Hugh shakes his head and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Nope. I will say, though,” he whispers, moving his lips along your jawline to your ear. “I’m gonna try my very best not to get excited when your hands are all over me.”

“Oh my god, you’re going to be shirtless, aren’t you?”

His lips grow into a wide grin as he gently nips along the side of your neck, hands gripping your hips. “Yeah, baby.”

You look at him from top to bottom, biting down on your lower lip as your gaze darkens at the thought. You clear your throat and look back into his eyes, slowly shaking your head. “Yeah, you owe me because I don’t know how I’m going to oil you up without wanting to–”

“Oh, I know,” Hugh chuckles, interrupting you. “Good thing it’s the last scene to shoot before we call it a day.”

“So, what I’m hearing is that after that scene, you’re going to take me back to the hotel and…” you wiggle your brows together. “You know.”

Hugh smirks, hands slowly moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, dipping low to rest on your backside. “I don’t know,” he lies. “Why don’t you tell me what I’ll be doing when we get back to the hotel room?”

“You’re gonna let me have my way with you,” you grin, nodding excitedly.

“Oh, I’m gonna let you, will I?”

“Yes.” you answer, matter-of-factly.

“Love the confidence, baby,” Hugh grins as he leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Gotta get back on set. I’ll see you later.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, Hugh,” you answer, pulling back and looking up at him with a small pout on your lips.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he winks. “You know I will.”

“You better.”

“I promise,” Hugh says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you smile.

��

Throughout the rest of the day, you find yourself distracted with the thought of having to oil Hugh up for the last scene of the day. While you’re still in awe of the acting from both Ryan and Hugh, you can’t help but your eyes deviate to Hugh’s arms as he says his lines.

And even as that scene approaches, Shawn is the first one to walk up to you, a teasing grin on his lips. “So, you’re okay with oiling Hugh up for this last scene?”

“I think it’d be weird if I wasn’t,” you tease, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation.

“That’s true,” he chuckles. “Ryan’s been teasing him all day about it,” Shawn points out.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” you smile. “How much oil will I have to put on him, by the way?”

“Um,” Shawn grins. “Quite a lot and depending on how many takes we’ll need to get the right one…”

“Okay, so we might need more than one bottle.”

“Oh, we have plenty.”

“And this scene…” you begin, playing with your camera strap.

“It’s a good one,” Shawn finishes for you.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be Wolverine if there wasn’t at least one shot of him without a shirt, right?”

Shawn laughs quietly. “That’s right… Speaking of the devil,” he nods his head over your shoulder and you turn slightly to see Hugh without his shirt, simply dressed in only the yellow and blue pants with the matching boots and cowl.

You clear your throat at the sight of him, his muscles clearly defined as you bite your lower lip. Your eyes linger on his chest and abdomen, moving along his strong arms and shoulders. Ryan’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you turn your gaze on the other man, who’s dressed in his entire Deadpool gear.

“You might want to pick up your jaw off the floor,” Ryan chuckles.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, gently smacking his chest. “I see this every day, it’s nothing new to me,” you lie.

Hugh places his hands on his hips, staring at you with a slight tilt to his head and a small smirk on his lips. He can see your eyes flitting back to him, can see the way you're gently gnawing at your lower lip and he knows exactly what kind of look you’re giving him.

“I know,” Ryan sighs dramatically. “Lucky you.”

“Got the oil for you,” Hugh says, handing it to you and breaking you out of your thoughts. You take it from him slowly, fingers brushing against his.

“Right. So, we’re doing this now.” you say, gripping the bottle of oil tightly in your grasp.

Shawn nods and then looks over at you. “Don’t put too much,” he advises. “Just enough to make his skin glisten, like he’s sweating.”

“Right, right,” you nod, clearing your throat. “Not too much, but just enough.”

Ryan and Shawn quietly chuckle to themselves before giving the both of you some privacy. You look up at Hugh and bite your lower lip, eyes lingering on his lips as it moves down the side of his neck, to his chest and down his abdomen and back up.

“You nervous, baby?” Hugh whispers.

“N– No,” you stammer. “I just don’t want to mess up.”

“I don’t even think that’s possible,” he chuckles. “I’m ready for you, love.”

You nod slowly and then open the bottle of oil, squeezing just enough onto your palm. You set the bottle aside and rub your hands together to evenly distribute the oil before you reach out to place your hands on his shoulders, slowly moving them up and down before you move to his chest.

Hugh smirks, flexing his chest for you and he lets out a quiet chuckle when he hears you quietly gasp. “Love feeling your hands on me, baby,” he whispers.

“Stop distracting me,” you tease, pouring just a bit more oil onto your hands before you reach out to spread it along his chest down to his abdomen, feeling each ridge and muscle of his abs. Your hands move dangerously closer to the waistband of his pants, feeling Hugh’s hand immediately dart out to rest on your hip.

“Careful, baby.”

“Just making sure I got everything.” Slowly, you pull away and look at him, his upper half glistening with the oil you just applied. “I think– I think you’re ready to go.”

Hugh smiles and leans down to peck your lips lightly. “Thank you, baby.”

“I miss seeing your eyes,” you point out, motioning towards the cowl that’s placed atop of his head. “But I can’t lie… this is just as good a view.”

Hugh opens his mouth to say something, but hears his name being called by Ryan and Shawn. “Duty calls.”

“Try and get this in one take so you can take me back to the hotel.”

Hugh smirks. “Impatient, aren’t you?”

“Do you see yourself? I’d jump you right here if I could.”

“Naughty girl,” he whispers lowly.

“Hugh!” Ryan calls out. “Come on, buddy. I’m sure she will oil you up soon enough.”

“Go,” you say quietly.

Hugh nods and then turns on his heel to take his place on set.

—

It takes more than one take to complete the scene. After about two and a half bottles of oil and intense sexual tension radiating off you and Hugh, Shawn finally calls cut. Hugh walks over to you and takes the towel from your hands to wipe off the immense amount of oil that’s dripping from him, but he can’t help but watch your eyes ogle him. It always made him feel so special and borderline shy when your eyes linger on him, especially with the way you’re staring at him now.

“Just gotta head back to the trailer and change,” Hugh says. “Then we can go back to the hotel.”

Anticipation courses through your veins as you keep a tight hold on Hugh’s hand, fingers laced together as you walk alongside him. Once at his trailer, Hugh shuts the door and locks it behind him.

Before you can even ask what he’s doing, Hugh turns to face you and removes the cowl to set it aside. His gaze darkens at the sight of you and in just a few strides in your direction, he’s wrapping his strong arms around your waist and lifting you off your feet.

Your legs immediately wrap around his waist and your arms move around his shoulders. Letting out a quiet gasp, Hugh gently rests you on your back against the couch, kneeling on the floor between your legs.

“Hugh, what are you–”

“Been wanting you all day,” he says, his large hands moving to your jeans and undoing the button and zipper of it all too quickly. “Can’t wait anymore.”

“Baby–”

“Shh,” Hugh whispers, tugging your jeans down your legs and tossing the fabric over his shoulder. He looks up at you and then moves his hands to the waistband of your black lace panties, slowly tugging them down your legs as well. Once your lower half is completely exposed for him, Hugh holds your legs apart and growls at the sight of your slickened sex. He leans in and brushes the bridge of his nose against you, hands gripping your legs tightly. “Goddamn, baby. You’re already so wet for me.”

“It was because of all that oil,” you whimper, moving your hands to rest in his hair. “Please…”

“And here I thought you were gonna have your way with me,” he grins, pulling back just enough to brush the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves. Hugh looks up at you, watches you tilt your head back and your eyes fall shut at the lightest of touches.

“Oh, I will,” you groan. “But first, how about you do what you need to do and–”

“So demanding lately,” he grins, leaning in to lick a stripe along your soaking heat. A loud moan escapes your lips and Hugh smiles, pulling away. “Baby, you gotta stay quiet for me. There are still people on set and we can’t have them hearing you, hearing what I’m doing to you.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, nodding and moving your hands from his hair to cover your mouth instead. “I’ll try my best,” you mumble.

“Atta girl,” he praises and leans back in to lap at your juices, your wetness slowly beginning to trickle down his chest. Hugh grips your hips, holding you firmly against the couch as he moves his lips to your clit, flicking his tongue against it as he brings one hand between your legs. Without hesitation, he slides in two fingers as he sucks at your clit, beginning to pump his two digits in and out of your depths.

The sounds of your wetness squelches with each thrust of his fingers and he stares up at you to see how hard you’re trying to stay quiet. He smirks against you and slowly adds a third finger, a loud whimper escaping your lips at the intrusion.

Hugh turns his head and places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh as he leans back, continuing to move his fingers in and out of your depths as he leans over you. With his free hand, he gently removes your own from your mouth and leans in to brush his lips against yours.

“Feel good, baby?” he whispers, keeping his fingers deep within your depths as he begins to curl them inside of you. “Oh yeah, I can feel you trembling…”

You stare up at him, biting your lower lip as you try to hold back your moans. “Hugh, baby…”

“Doing so good for me, staying so quiet,” he grins, his fingers curling inwards as your walls begin to tremble and he knows you’re close. Knows that you’re about to reach a heightened pleasure that he leans in and presses his lips against yours in hopes to quiet your moans.

You reach down and grip his wrist, fingertips digging into his skin as you arch your back. You moan against his lips, feeling his tongue slide past your own and the sensations are just too much, too overwhelming. Hugh pumps his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your climax, slowly pulling away to hold up his fingers in your direction.

“Look how wet you are for me,” he grins.

You look up at him, biting your lower lip as you watch him suck on his fingers, cleaning your slick free from his digits. “Hugh…”

“So fucking good,” he winks.

You’re breathing heavily, but you reach down for his pants and tug on it, seeing the length of his manhood pressing against the yellow fabric. “Take these off.”

Hugh smirks. “Yes, ma’am.” He makes quick work to remove his boots and his pants, kicking them off to the side carelessly. He looks down at himself, his manhood at attention and he settles himself once more between your legs. He holds onto the base of his length and runs his tip across your sex, growling lowly.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he groans.

“Please,” you whimper.

“Being such a good girl, baby,” Hugh smirks, slowly sliding into you in one thrust. He groans at your wetness, your warmth walls surrounding every inch of him. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, pulling his hips back before he slides back in.

“Hugh, I don’t think…” you moan, moving your hands to his shoulders. “I can’t– I can’t stay quiet and–”

“Shh,” he whispers, moving his large hand over your mouth as he delivers a sharp thrust. “Yeah, you can, baby.”

You let out a loud moan, muffled by his hand as you stare up at him. Hugh pulls out to his tip and slides back into you in one thrust, your legs moving to wrap around his waist.

Hugh rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as he keeps his hand over your mouth. Your moans and whimpers are muffled by his large hand and with each thrust, he can see the way your eyes flutter. Hugh’s thrusts continue at a rhythmic pace, your walls sliding along each inch and vein of his manhood. You’re so wet, so tight and warm and Hugh knows he can’t keep this up any longer.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna–” Hugh’s hips begin to stutter, but you reach down and push him away from you, causing a loud groan to escape his lips. He’s quick to grasp his manhood to slide back into you, but you shake your head and sit up on the couch, urging him to stand up. “What?”

“I want you to come in my mouth,” you tell him, biting your lower lip. “That’s one way you can keep me quiet.”

Hugh growls and nods, standing up like you asked. He brings a hand down to your cheek, brushing his thumb across your soft skin and gently tucking a fallen strand behind your ear. “Well?”

“Now, who’s impatient, hm?” you grin, reaching up to wrap your hand around his slick coated base as your lips move to his tip. Wrapping your lips around him, you begin to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as your hand strokes the rest of him. You keep your eyes focused on him, watching as he tilts his head back and a hand moves to tangle his fingers into your hair.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, the grip in your tightening as you continue to bob your head in time with your strokes. Hugh can feel the tightness build once again in the pit of his stomach. He looks down at you and groans at the sight, your eyes staring up at him with his cock in his mouth.

God, if he could spend the rest of his days like this, Hugh would die a happy man.

“I’m close, I’m gonna–” Hugh’s voice cuts off as you take him even deeper into your mouth and he can feel the tip of his length hit the back of your throat. He groans loudly and gently brushes your hand away from him as he takes a hold of his base. He strokes himself once, twice, three times before spurts of his come release into your mouth.

You feel his warm spend fill your mouth, a mixture of salty and sweet taste. You swallow it eagerly, slowly bobbing your head as you feel him shudder against you, his hand in your release loosening its grip. When he pulls away, you smile up at him and gently place a soft and light kiss on his tip.

“Did you really just–”

“Swallow?” you finish for him and nod. “Yup… Is that okay?”

“Is that okay?” Hugh repeats. “Baby, you’re fucking perfect.”

---

taglist (if links don't work, i'm sorry!): @corvusmorte - @dragonqueen89 - @whimsiwitchy - @kellyxo1

@wolviehugh - @moonxknightx - @sullyselena - @angelofthorr - @spectorrrhgf

@needz1nk - @fandomxo00 - @godlypresley - @kythefangirl25 - @callsignyourmom

@sue8724 - @squishyfruitloop - @sylviavf - @emotrash1 - @dissentientss

@sir-thisisadndserver - @absolutepie - @millajay - @itsallyscorner - @haytchee

@wolverigrl - @its-in-the-woods - @d3ad2you - @definitely-not-chill - @khxna

@jules-and-gemss

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x female reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #real person fiction #rpf #real person fanfiction #real person fanfic #story: training partners

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cyber333angel · 13 hours ago

Text

SEVIKA X CAMGIRL!READER !!

finally convincing your girlfriend to join you on your stream you realize later on how much of a mistake that was..

a/n — i didn’t like how this turned out but enjoy ☺️ it has usage of strap on, overstimulation, and kind of in public because your being recorded

three times a week you stream videos for your viewers in the office of the apartment you and sevika share, wearing the most gorgeous and revealing lingerie as always. just a one hour show gaining you about 200 bucks to just do stuff you and your girlfriend do every night for some randos. when you started dating her you had only just started to test the waters of cam shows and hadn’t gone all in yet, so when you told her about your recent hobby she was surprisingly not against it at all. in fact it’s how the two of you started to explore your sexual relationship with each other, trying out stuff you never thought you would do, but being comfortable with anyway because it was just the two of you. eventually you grew into the routine of your streams and wanted sevika to join you, always whining and pouting about wanting her to play with you but she would always decline, saying it was a nuisance.

however when you asked her to at least watch you she said yes, the show lasting a whopping 20 minutes before she told you to turn it off just so she could have her way with you, messing up all your pretty clothes and leaving you with tears in your eyes. you told sevika how you really wanted her to join you, pleading and letting her do anything she wanted to just so that she would agree. and she actually gave in after a couple of weeks of begging as she usually does because she could never resist when it comes to you, talking over it with her and making sure she 100% was okay with it. the two of you decided to do it next week when she came home from work and you would have a new set of lingerie coming in from the mail, courtesy of sevika as per usual!

when the day came you were nervous for some reason when you were putting together your set up, this routine had became normal to you but now that your girlfriend was joining you - your nerves were on 10. and it wasn’t a bad nervous feeling, no you just know what things people suggest to you in your chatbox and you just know how it might make your girlfriend a bit dramatic and jealous. you hear the front door close and your stream is about to start in 15 minutes, giving you enough time to gather yourself. walking out of the office you greet your girlfriend with open arms to give her a hug, “hi baby.” sevika says, kissing your forehead as the two of you rock together side to side at the doorway. “missed you sevi” nodding into her chest you feel a wave of relief rushing through you when your in her arms and all your nerves come down as you take in her scent.

you guys get started in the room, the stream starting as soon as you hit the red button, you look to sevika to see her leaning back on the desk, watching you set up. “go on.” she mouths to you as she puts out the cigarette she had, taking a gulp you turn on your camera to face you, your viewers flooding in going from 10 to 100 in mere minutes.

you greet them as you always do, of course added with the introduction of your special guest. “on tonights show we do have a special guest so get ready..” turning around you motion for sevika to come closer, walking up to the camera with that sway in her hips as she arrives on the screen.

telling your audience all about your girlfriend and what to expect for the stream, “don’t forget to hit the like button and enjoy the show!” you say as you look back to sevika, seeing her sat in the chair of the vanity that your camera is placed on as she watches you, “c’mere and sit down.” she says and you immediately walk to her with a smile, climbing onto her lap. making yourself comfortable while you hold her face seeing how cute she looks looking up at you, examining your face as she always does until you lower your lips to hers, kissing her so deeply and passionately. your girlfriend raises her arms to your ass as she breaths into the kiss, its always crazy how just a quick make out session could make you soaked and needy for her. and in this moment is when sevika realizes why she declined so many times when you asked her to join the stream, it was just the thoughtless “no.” each time but now she knew why.

she didn’t want to share this side of you with anyone, she didn’t want everyone to see how dumb she would make you by only shoving her tongue down your throat. the pathetic pretty sight of you that only she could make you experience was only for her eyes, deciding to make this quick even if it would end with tears. sevika still had her hands gripping the globes of your ass tightly as the puddle in your panties kept getting damper, moans coming from you as you moved on to your girlfriends neck. sucking and making bite marks all over her while sevika looked at the chatbox, people commenting “that’s so hot..” and other lustful thoughts while they watched you did much more than tick sevika off, making her scrunch her face in annoyance. sevika switches back to you taking your jaw in her hands gently, “lets go to the bed yeah?” making you nod your head while you get up from her lap to prop the camera next to the bed. crawling onto the comforter you face sevika at the end of it, lifting your chin up for a kiss as she slides down her boxers to reveal her strap underneath. it was a black dildo that was about 7 inches long with some girth around it, it was always a struggle to take all of it but sevika makes sure all of it fits every time. “get it nice and wet for me like you always do baby” following you with her eyes as you lower your head down, taking the silicon in your hands as you put it to your mouth giving it kisses at the tip.

taking the whole thing into your mouth stretches your jaw open, sevika bucking her hips forward a bit to force it down your throat a bit more, it makes you gag. gripping at your girlfriends thighs as you suck her dick, tears already trickling from your eyes when the rubber reaches as far as it can in your mouth, taking a bit more than half of it. “there you go baby, just like that.. my pretty girl.” that last part is said while she holds your jaw up to face her, your mouth still filled with her dick inside as she slides it out. by this point you have already long forgotten about your stream, which had previously never ever happened to you before, you were always in control when it came to your streams but sevikas presence in itself is enough to cloud your judgement.

that’s how you know end up laying on your back as you grip and pull at the sheets your currently laying on, with sevikas dick pushing deeper and deeper into your cunt. moans overflowing from your mouth as your stomach tenses,your hips rocking back and forth with your girlfriends large hands holding them harshly. your in missionary position and your lingerie is long gone— facing her but avoiding her piercing eyes by squeezing them shut, a series of pleads coming from your mouth. “hngh vika s’too much!” her name falling out your mouth so easily brings a smile to sevikas face every time face. “such a fucking crybaby, relax..” you don’t know how she can tell you to relax when she’s thrusting into you so hard, hitting that same spot repeatedly that she knows makes you go crazy. moving her hand from your hips sevika brings her fingers to your neglected clit, circling the bud crudely when your hands fly to your mouth.

it’s way too much for you and sevika knows that but it’s what makes it all the more fun for her to watch, seeing you struggle and cry because of her hands on you like this. “don’t cover your mouth, let em hear you c’mon” she says pulling your hands from your mouth, tears welling from your eyes as she holds your hands to her stomach with one hand. “know how much i like to hear that pretty voice..” still rubbing at your bud you feel yourself cumming, your face scrunching up and your chest heaving up and down. “m’cumming sev please..” pleading for her to help you get there, sevika rocks into you deeper as your hips flow together. your so soaked that your cunt can be heard loud and clear on the camera, a harsh plap-plap-plap echoing in the room even though the camera is more than a few feet away from the bed, you can’t even imagine what the people in the chat are saying and you honestly couldn’t care at the moment.

you are too focused on how good sevikas making you feel and it almost makes you forget how to breathe but sevika can just tell how close you were. “yeah you gonna cum for us sweet girl? you love it when im deep inside you like this huh..” she says looking at the camera, turning back to see you nodding your head as your eyes go half lidded, feeling the coil in your stomach snapping with the help of sevikas words. legs quivering on her shoulders you coat the black silicon in your slick, a white ring covering the base. you twitch as your back arches off the bed, sevika watching you with praiseful eyes, if she wasn’t so focused on getting her baby to cum she probably would have came herself.

but she’s “kind” enough to let you catch your breath for a couple of seconds before sliding her dick out of your messy pussy, a uttering cry pulled from your throat as you instinctively close your legs from the loss. she pulls your legs to the edge of the bed as she kneels down on the floor, “open your legs.” is said with a impatient tone, waiting for you to defer to what she told you. “mm sevi I can’t! already came just now, I need a break..” instantly feeling your cheeks get hotter as you watch sevikas face, a stare you don’t get too often but when you do, you know that your doing something your not supposed to be doing. “you know im not gonna repeat myself baby..” a quiet whimper coming from you as you do as your told, shyly opening your legs for your girlfriend. she holds your thighs down to your stomach, they already ache and she hadn’t even begun to torture you yet.

lowering her head down, sevika laps at your soaked cunt, slurping and licking up stripes to your clit. you can’t even attempt to keep your moans to yourself, gripping at the sheets below you as you cry’s fill the room, your babbling to her about how it’s too much while your legs quiver and hesitate to close on sevikas head. “so fucking wet..this is all for me huh baby?” she says as she thrust her fingers into your hole, already soaked from the strap that was deep inside you just moments ago. leaving you panting as she holds your thighs down to the bed, licking up all your slick as if she hadn’t eaten for days, the sight alone was more than enough to make you overwhelmed as you feel yourself cumming again. “vika, vika sevika- please m’cumming again!” you hiccup, gripping at the dark brunettes hair, uncontrollably grinding your messy cunt against sevikas face trying to chase that sweet relief. she rolls her tongue against your clit while leaving trails of praise every time she comes up to kiss at your thigh or look at you, with her focus fixated completely on you as your legs shake around her head, squeezing your teary eyes shut with a cry. “taste so sweet..” is whispered as sevika gets up from in between your legs to give you a kiss on your forehead, “did so good for me baby.” you hear from her, walking over to your camera set up. in the midst of all this you completely forgot you were even filming, your head way up in the clouds of pleasure and you were completely embarrassed. you watch as she grumbles to the camera and signs off of it, walking back to you with a smile. sitting on the edge of the bed with her hand cupping your face while her thumb rubs across the soft flesh of your cheek, “do you usually make 1k everytime you stream? I didn’t know I was missing out on miss celebrity over here.” she says with a chuckle and your just laying there with shocked eyes, you never made that amount of money before for a show, in fact you just barely started to make 200. “and I love you baby but im never doing this again.” your girlfriend says with her stern tone as usual ending with a kiss on your forehead, nodding to her, you knew you were definitely gonna make her do this again.

#sevika x reader <3 #sevika x reader #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika #I didn’t know how to end this tbh #ok so this is buns but I wanted to get smth out while I work on the logan plinks and my requests 😓😓😓#bear with me #arcane

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soov · 20 hours ago

Text

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the boy felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real

2024 © SOOV

#ㅤ𝓡.#enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #enha x reader #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon drabbles #enhypen #enhypen x you #sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x you #enha imagines

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deusfoundry · 3 days ago

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i've got no idea if you are writing right now but i would love myself a fem!reader x kageyama. love you xx

U KNOW WHAT NONNIE i would love myself a kageyama x reader too hehe so here u go!!

p.s. i was half asleep when i wrote this literally i was fighting to keep my eyes open so its not my best pls forgive me i tried

you remember the conversation you had with tobio so, so clearly, almost as if it was yesterday. which, you think, isn't entirely untrue considering it occurred barely two weeks ago.

tobio had outright rejected the idea of keeping your relationship a secret.

"why would i want to hide the fact that you're my girlfriend?"

and you try not to melt into a puddle over his bluntness, the way the words my girlfriend rolled off his tongue with ease. he didn't stutter. didn't trip over his words. you were his.

you cite a few reasons why he would consider it, all of which are valid in your eyes. backlash from fans. reduced sponsorships. less guest appearances on evening talk shows. factors that were valuable to his career. but he had told you, with an almost terrifying conviction, that he doesn't care. so long as he still gets to be on the court, the less-athlete and more-celebrity side of his career doesn't matter to him.

so you two agreed on a compromise. you would ease your relationship to the world, slowly letting more and more people know until it's out in the public.

and the first ones to know are the ones closest to you both. your family and his sister. your friends and his old teammates from highschool.

shoyo had been the first person he called when you agreed to be his girlfriend on one of your at-home dates. you can recall peering into your apartment's living room after a quick trip to the bathroom, watching tobio with his back hunched near the corner.

"she said yes." he whispered into his phone, and you could hear shoyo's overexcited screaming even though he's not on speaker.

next, was your boss. though workplace relationships aren't explicitly stated in your contract to be forbidden, it's highly still discouraged. in turn, you two had gotten an almost hour long lecture about policies and rules. about what this could mean for not only your careers, but for everyone else on the team as well. about the public's possible response.

and with a practiced, corporate smile, you reassured your boss that you have it all under control.

the last people in your four-part plan to find out would've been tobio's teammates and coach, before you (when you're both ready) make an announcement on all of schweiden adlers' social media accounts.

it was so easy, and tobio had agreed to follow through with it. you remember because he swore with a kiss on the edge of your lips and a shy smile that he would.

which is why you're equally dumbfounded and shocked when he announced your relationship to the public. during a post-match press conference. on live, national television.

satisfaction began to settle in halfway through the presscon. the team was doing great. they answered every question with ease, behaved as well as they could. there were moments of playful banter between the members that the fans would go crazy over. every reporter followed through the brief you gave them earlier about which questions they could and couldn't ask (heavily emphasizing no questions about kourai's height).

it was going so well.

until one of the reporters asked one particular question. it was done in good faith, you could tell by the small grin on her face and the quiet chuckles from everyone. she was playing off an inside joke from the adlers' fanbase which, to your confusion, seemed to adore you just as much as the members of the team.

"is your manager single?"

hirugami laughs, toying a bit with the microphone in his hand before he opens his mouth to answer the question in the same lighthearted nature.

except, tobio beats him to it.

"she's not."

the room falls silent. everyone, even his teammates, look at tobio with intrigue.

"r- really, kageyama-san?" she's damn near shaking, the poor lady, when she realizes tobio's eyes are on her. all bright and blue and intense.

he decides to spare her when he takes a moment to look at you, standing near the side of the stage. you're glaring daggers at him, trying to convey with your two eyes multiple warning signs in big, bold, and red letters.

please don't.

and tobio, who has grown to be perceptive when it comes to you, knows exactly what you mean. he just doesn't have it in him to care right now.

"i should know. i'm her boyfriend."

your mouth falls wide open. the only thought that runs through your mind is you two are so fucking screwed. this wasn't part of the plan you meticulously arranged and presented to your boss.

you don't know how long the silence lasts until kourai decides to break it.

"i knew it!" he says, slamming the velvet cloth covering the long panel table. the sound brings you out of your daze. "i knew something was going on between you two."

you think there's no possible way this situation can get worse, but wakatoshi nods in agreement, which brings about an onslaught of hungry reporters asking questions left and right. you take this as your cue to rush in and call off the presscon.

"is it true?"

"how long have you two been dating?"

"did kageyama-san really ask you out?"

you drown them out to the best of your abilities, ignoring the less than kind and backhanded questions directed towards you. tobio looks into your eyes as he passes by you in the line of players you're ushering off the stage, but you quickly avert your gaze.

"we'll talk later." you mouth.

after gathering their belongings from the locker room, the team piles onto the bus to head back to their home court. tobio settles into one of the seats near the back, saving the window seat for you.

he waits, watches in anticipation as you step inside the bus. you catch his pleading eyes right as you're about to take a seat in an empty row on the front.

you try to resist. really, you do. but you've never been the best at denying tobio. for more times than you care to admit had you been the subject of teasing by the team for entertaining each and every request that tobio makes.

so you sigh, before making the long walk to the back of the bus.

tobio allows you to scoot inside after helping you with shoving your backpack inside the overhead compartment. the bus springs to life right as you take your seat, engines silently roaring as it begins the trip back home.

a moment of silence passes before tobio takes your hand in his.

"i'm sorry." he says, dragging his thumb over the lines on your palm with each syllable.

"are you really?"

tobio pauses, almost contemplating. "you'd feel better if i didn't answer that."

a quiet laugh falls off your lips. of course you already knew the answer to that. tobio has always been unapologetically open about what he wants.

screw his old teammates for going with all his demands.

tobio's ministrations on your hand doesn't stop. in fact, it grows more frantic by the second. lazy movements turn into his thumb rushing back and forth against your skin. it means he wants to ask you something, and he's hoping this will silently convey his question.

"i'm not mad." in an instant, his worries are quelled. you move closer to lean your head on his shoulder. he plants his head on top of yours.

your limbs melt into each other until you're not sure where you end and tobio begins.

"but you didn't have to say that, you know. hirugami was handling it." you give him a light nudge.

"they were asking if you were single," tobio scoffs, turning his head so he can nuzzle his face against your hair. he breathes you in. your scent overtakes his senses until the only thing he knows is you. that you are his. "i think i have the right to answer that."

"god your publicist must hate you." you roll your eyes. "our boss must hate us right now too."

"don't care." he pries himself off the crown of your head, leaning down to latch his lips on your jaw.

tobio leaves one kiss, right at the very edge. you tip your head to the side so he can leave another on the flesh of your neck. he's about to plant a kiss just above your collarbone when wakatoshi chimes in from the seat in front of you.

"it's not very appropriate to make out on the bus."

you jump away from each other, cheeks flushing red now that the entire team's attention is on you. but you can't find it in you to care enough to tell them off. the hollering and the teasing matters less than the fact that you have tobio, right by your side.

dividers by @cafekitsune

#kageyama tobio #haikyuu #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader

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bonkaii4 · 15 hours ago

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Mel being an empath

(Okay i just got say arcane has sparked passion in me i haven’t felt for a show and fandom in yeeeears i haven’t written a meta in forever so bare with me.)

Anyway at first watching act 3 the reveal of Mel being empath felt crazy like that’s such a huge bomb that we didn’t get build up on or much follow through but i do think it explains so much about her character. Traditionally empaths are written to be overly emotional or sensitive sort of like telepaths and being smart but Mel wasn’t written like that she’s quite calm and collected her most emotional outbursts are with her mother and jayce and even with jayce it’s only because he’s hurling accusations at her and she still remains relatively calm in her responses. I think her knowing people’s emotions wether she was aware of this or not plays into this she knows Jayce is coming from a place of hurt and confusion where as her mother back in season one she knows she’s being disingenuous with the reasons of being in piltover.

First watch this just seems like a disgruntled daughter and her mother trying to get on her good side but knowing that Mel can read people’s emotions adds another layer she see right through her mother which not only from just being raised by her but through her her empath skills.

also wanted to bring this up someone pointed this out tiktok and someone else pointed out that this maybe because we’re seeing this scene through Mel’s POV and since she is empath she see that Maddie is secretly enjoying executing Caitlyn. This got me thinking about her career as council member/politician I’ve wondered how she got so high up while seemingly not only being the youngest member but being young period if she’s assumed to be Jayce’s and Victor’s age this makes her about 24-27 in s1 which is extremely young for council member which essentially this region’s governing body. Being able to sense people’s true intentions allowed her to know who to align herself who not to, knowing when people agreed and disagreed with her, or when people sympathize with your views, causes, or concerns on certain issues which all helped her advance quickly her career. I’m sure being from a high born house helped but we see other high born houses in council positions but they’re all older.

She also seems to be somewhat bored with politics and somewhat disillusioned when we meet her i mean giving a fellow council member a child’s toy almost like a practical joke doesn’t seem like someone who views politics and her colleagues with utmost seriousness it isn’t until she meets Jayce that we see the passion for change. I think being empath she saw that Jayce and Vicktor’s vision for hextech and Piltover and Zaun were pure and genuine which is why she supported them. I also hate the rhetoric that Mel never loved jayce and just manipulated for her own gain she does everything in her power to stay true to him and Vicktor’s vision she doesn’t push him to do anything that goes against their morals and goals. When Jayce is worried about Vicktor and his absence at the council may lead to she reassures she won’t let them corrupt their dream. Like i said early she isn’t written like a typical empath she also isn’t written like a typical manipulator(if you can call her that) she is genuine in what she’s says to Jayce she just also knows how people work and his feelings on the matter so she’s able to play on that.

Ambessa describes her to be too soft and she tells Jayce she didn’t Medarda standards i think the way she operates as empath is the cause of that I don’t think Mel is welling to corrupt herself or others when getting what she wants unlike her Mother and the rest of her family i think they operate much more cut through in their goals.

Whew anyway mind any typos i didn’t mean for this be as long as turned out just wanted to share revelation i had!:)

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luthordamnvers · 3 days ago

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Outgrowing Supergirl

A/N: The finale I deserved, tbh (Also on AO3)

Cat's voice kept repeating in Kara's head since Alex and Kelly's wedding.

'Ker-rah, you need to stop making excuses, and you need to decide what your course will be. Now, there is important work to be done, and I hope you'll join me. But more than that, I hope that you will choose to become your full self, because that would really be something to see. And it would be interesting because this is boring.'

Boring.

Her life had been torn to pieces a few times over, with destruction and missing on half the happenings of her own life because she was busy saving the world… the universe, and Cat Grant categorized it as boring.

Kara laughed to herself. She didn't know the half of it. And yet, her reluctant mentor also had some encouraging words.

'I believe in you, I always have.'

She had offered an Editor-In-Chief position.

One position she wasn't entirely sure she deserved, but as Alex said, 'That was her dream job.' Not one she expected to get, so soon. It was one she expected for when her superheroing had dwindled, and she was well into her human midlife. When her birth-date would say she was in her late forties, and she had to pretend she followed some strict regimen to look as good as she did, because the yellow sun wouldn't really let her age that much.

Her own words, also bounced in her head.

'I give speeches inspiring people to live their best lives. But she's right. I am too afraid to live my own.'

'My entire life, I've hid behind these glasses. It's gotten in the way of every job I've ever had, everything I've ever wanted to do, every relationship.'

'I think hiding who I am is the reason I couldn't pass the courage Gauntlet. I created Supergirl that night because the thought of saving my sister as myself was too terrifying.'

At that precise moment, she did thought that. but in the days since her sister's wedding, she could ponder long and wide over it. That may have been the totem's argument. But the totem didn't know about her safety. All the times people knowing her identity, put them in danger.

The totem didn't live Jeremiah having to surrender himself to work for the D.E.O to protect her. The totem didn't know about the D.E.O recruiting her sister out of college, because she was an alien. The totem didn't know about Max Lord trying to date her sister just to try and uncover Supergirl's identity. Or Rick Malverne keeping Alex hostage, so Supergirl would do his bidding. Or Haley finding out her identity, and use it to manipulate her sister and herself.

The totem didn't understand Lex Luthor capturing her niece in exchange for more power.

Or Agent Liberty kidnapping Lena to force her to reveal her identity.

That didn't happen in this reality, but it did happened to her. And she caved, of course she did. But it was dangerous. Too dangerous.

Lena's words constantly swam in her mind too, 'You've had your entire life, people telling you who you're supposed to be and that if you didn't hide your true self then the people would get hurt. I mean, it's tough to move beyond those type of core wounds.'

"It wasn't until Lillian told me the truth that I realized I haven't been living my own life. And finally, now I am. And it feels amazing." She had said, as they walked together, one next to the other.

"I don't even know what that would feel like for me. Connecting with someone as my whole self. To not be afraid to just be who I am.." Kara confessed. "It sounds like it could be empowering," Lena encouraged her.

It wasn't until days later, that she realized she'd lied to her best friend.

They were both sitting in her couch, watching The Great British Baking Show. Kara didn't even remember which season they were on.

"Are you even paying attention to the TV?" Lena asked, like reading her mind.

"No, not really," Kara sincerely admitted."I was thinking about what we talked at the wedding. About living my own life."

Lena turned to look at her instead of the TV, "You took of your glasses."

"I did. But I don't think that's the correct move for me," Kara confessed.

"Then, what is it?"

Kara sighed, "I'll accept the Editor-In-Chief job."

"You seem awfully conflicted for someone accepting her dream job," Lena frowned.

"I just need to convince Cat Grant to accept my conditions."

"Ah," Lena let out. "I see." She looked at her with a smile. "If anyone can convince her of anything, is you."

Kara was mesmerized by her. She thought about how much their life has changed, since they met. How miserable she was when Lena wasn't in her life. How unhappy she was when she had to run away from her, a lie in her lips. And how much better it was now that she knew the truth and was a willing participant of her life as a superhero.

She didn't realized she had done it, get so close to Lena she'd just had to lean in a few inches to touch her lips to hers.

"I lied at the wedding, too." Kara whispered.

"Lied about what?" Lena asked, in an equally low mumble.

"That I didn't know how it felt connecting with someone as my whole self," Kara explained. "I do know. I've always done it with you, even without the obvious. But especially in the last year." Kara paused. "And I think… I think you are more than my best friend."

Lena didn't move, she kept looking into Kara's eyes looking for something, and it seemingly she found it. "And what are you going to do about it?" She muttered.

"I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay with you," Kara said, finally closing the distance between their lips.

Kara could fly, and yet nothing had ever felt like kissing Lena.

"I got it," Lena announced, entering the loft.

Kara was nervous. She had managed to convince Cat Grant of it, but of course, her mentor and boss, couldn't let the dramatics go, and didn't let Kara even look at the cover of the magazine before sending it to print.

"You do look very good," her girlfriend said.

She was still over the moon about calling Lena her girlfriend, but not even that could squelch her nervousness. The kiss Lena gave her as a greeting did, though.

"Ready?" Lena asked.

"As ready as I can be."

Lena flipped the magazine in front of her, showing the cover to Kara. A picture of herself in her SuperSuit looked back at her.

'Supergirl is out, Superwoman is in.'

"She could have gone with a less cliched headline," Kara commented in a whisper.

"It's not that bad," Lena said, throwing her hands around Kara's neck, keeping her close. "But if I'm completely honest, you know Kara has always been my hero."

#kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #nicnic writes

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solidaritygaming-fanblog · 3 days ago

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right. So I'm kinda insane and found another song to talk about in some life series / evo context: Copycat. (Song will be linked at the end of the post!)

So, many people headcanon Jimmy and Grian being brothers- and it makes a lot of sense. They're both dirty brown haired, have dark brown eyes, are British, bird coded, have warring personalities, and actually are associated both with yellow, and then one other primary color- Grian taking red, and Jimmy taking blue. Even their main colorations show a kind of "parallel difference" between them, with recently, Grian being associated with red and purple, and Jimmy with blue and yellow.

Now. Recently Jimmy did some lore of him praying to the Watchers. And back in Evo, Grian was taken into the Watchers ranks- so there is some repeated or rhyming elements in their arcs. However, I raise you this- Jimmy is Grian's "replacement", or basically, a backup for if he defects from the Watchers. That's why he has such a deference to them- its hard coded into him. That's why he's acknowledged them so much recently, because Grian's slowly leaving, and they're beginning to get Jimmy to replace him.

For a long time, those two have had a sibling dyanmic- Grian, the older, stronger, and smarter brother, and Jimmy, the younger, weaker, stupider sibling. Grian basically torments Jimmy for his own amusement, and the Watchers let it happen- if Grian ever defected, they could simply feed Jimmy praise -you're better than Grian ever could have been, hes weak and you're incredibly strong, of course we will listen to you- and he would instantly be completely loyal to them.

The song has a few choice lyrics I'd like to point out:

"We get along just fine!" "I say everything you like to hear..." "It's funny how much I feel like I'm looking in a mirror!"

Say "Hello! What's up with you?" "I'm starting to talk like you do..."

"We've grown apart this time, I can't figure out the reason why." "It's funny how much I'd kinda like to see you cry."

"I've become what you like! I am what you wanted, right? Sacrificed all that I know, I have taught myself to let go!"

In any case, the main motif of the song is losing your identity- and that's exactly what's happening to Jimmy, memories of servers being scrubbed as the Watchers prepare him to take over Grian's position. The whole chorus is Jimmy giving in to the Watchers, and thinking about Grian in anger- he pushed him too far, yes, of course- the perfect way to get back at him, to team up with the eldritch gods Grian hates. Grian said he should be stronger- well now look at him! He's one of the strongest beings alive! He is now what his brother wanted him to be, perfectly made in his image.

Oh, and in case you need further convincing, look at how Grian's wings are usually portrayed. Scarlet macaw- red, blue, and yellow. Now look at Jimmy's wings- nearly always yellow, but in Wild Life, he's become a parrot. His wings are blue and yellow now. I bet he sometimes sees little red feathers and rips them out, desperate to distance himself from Grian- unfortunately, his brother.

Meanwhile, Grian doesn't know what's up with his little brother, and is desperately trying to get him back, to prevent him from making the same bad decisions he did- maybe even losing some of his Watcher powers as Jimmy's power begins to eclipse his own.

Link+ a lil more below the cut. This post is too long already. Whoops

youtube

Okay I can perfectly see in the "Copy that copy cat!" bit in the chorus, different sprites show up with every beat. The first four are of Grian (followed by a short animation of him saying the line) hitting poses, with maybe each sprite having a little refrence to a different season or series they have been in together. And then it swaps to Jimmy, facing towards him, hitting the same poses, with matching refrences. However by the end of the song, Jimmy takes charge, doing the poses first and surrounded by eyes- and Grian, trying (and failing) to match the poses and control the eyes, confused why he's lost his power.

Give my boy Jimmy the power. Grian has tormented him far too long.

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ceratedfish24 · 3 days ago

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I'm actually surprised that you consider Joel and Scott to be close, but maybe that's because I don't know much of them or their relationship! I figured they weren't that close because of how ready Joel is to go after Scott every time while no one else is as willing from Scott's social nature or just from intimidation, and Joel remains unaffected - I just thought they weren't that close or much attached to their relationship, again - I don't know much of their relationship so that's how it came across to me!

Thank you for the ask!!🩵They’re actually best friends irl! Joel and Scott used to be neighbors, and Joel only really makes mean jokes with people he considers his good friends (Grian, Jimmy(a LOT), Etho, Gem, etc.) which is why he goes after Scott a lot. I believe he talks a little about it during his Imp & Skizz interview, but take that with a grain of salt cause it might have been a stream. I don’t remember😅 but I know Joel and Scott are good friends. There was a time in MCC where Joel spilt a drink on his keyboard and broke it, so he had to run to Scott’s house and borrow Scott’s spare before the next event started lol. But yeah Joel isn’t intimidated by Scott for the same reasons Cleo, Lizzie, Martyn, and Pearl aren’t very intimidated by Scott. They know him too well and aren’t afraid to push his buttons. They know where his boundaries are, and that’s very sweet. Scott was actually at Joel and Lizzie’s wedding, too! They’ve played on the same servers together for years and years now, and they hang out together all of the time. They went to Japan together a few months ago, too. Joel’s only mean to people who he knows for sure can handle it, and Scott can DEFINITELY handle it, hence the targeting lmao. I think it’s actually really sweet that Joel knows exactly where Scott’s boundaries are and feels comfortable enough to be (playfully) aggressive now and then. That being said, I completely understand how it may have come across that they’re not close. That’s just how Joel shows affection, though💚

#trafficblr #smajor #scott smajor #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #empires smp

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hyperions-light · 23 hours ago

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The Poison Fruit Ripens

#defendingtheending here we go

First of all mega super ultra spoilers for the ending teaser that Steam says like… 6% ? Of players have seen? So you’ve been warned. No cuts baby, it’s Miyazaki style

Okay, so it’s the Executors, and they’re probably coming across the sea in the next game (if EA doesn’t nuke BW), from what I can gather. I mean, this is fine from a lore perspective. All we knew about those people before is that 1) they are mysterious 2) they are from over there, across the ocean

And now they’re maybe connected to the revealed Qunari lore, which I am ! So excited to have! We already knew that the Qunari fled across the ocean for unspecified reasons, and that going back there was Not A Thing. But now we know that they left because of the (probably metaphorical?) Devouring Storm, which could be connected to the Executors. What are the odds that there are two separate Huge Bad Things Over There that both want to destroy Thedas? Probably is just one big thing— also the title Executor implies they are doing the bidding of someone else, so whatever the Qunari were talking about could be it. (They also talked about being agents of someone else’s will in the Inquisition War Table quest).

So the cinematic shows a bunch of our prominent villains from the previous games being influenced in some way by the Executors. Which I think people are upset about, but I think it’s fine because:

- They did not really specify the manner of influence. I would be annoyed if they retconned Loghain’s decision to leave Cailan on the battlefield because it makes him interesting, but they didn’t say that. They just said they influenced his decisions. They could have done that by stoking his paranoia about Orlais, or by planting Arl Howe to influence him after the battle. He did a lot of OOC stuff while he was King Regent, and this could be a chance to explain what didn’t make sense for his previously established character and was just put in there to make him seem Very Evil.

- They also were around some people doing a blood magic ritual… there weren’t enough of them to be the Magisters, technically, but that is usually what it looks like when we see them in DA art so I’m going to assume that’s them for now. I mean that’s wild if that’s what it is bc that was such a long time ago? Thee guys have really been playing the long game I guess

- The other person they directly influenced seems to be Bartrand, which is really easy because who the fuck gave him that damn map? We NEVER found out who pointed Bartrand to the Thaig! Someone did it, and they probably did it on purpose! It may as well be these guys

- the rest of the villains don’t get guys whispering to them, so I have to assume they mean to imply that they just set up the circumstances that would lead to these people gaining power. I mean someone sent the Carta to the Vimmark mountains, right? And there was like some weird demon there, too.

-So basically they’re just implying that these people have been manipulating events to make sure that shit in Thedas is hitting the fan all at once, which does kind of explain the frankly improbable number of world-ending events that have happened during the Dragon Age. I mean, three Blights, two Magisters, two Evanuris, Antaam invasion, major mage rebellion, Templar schism, and the death of the Southern Divine? It’s only been like 50 years!!! Before the Dragon Age there had only been four Blights since the Ancient Age! Shit does not normally happen this fast in Thedas

I think the phrase itself is pretty direct (also giving Southern Reach vibes). All this chaos they helped sew is reaching its culmination, and now they’re getting ready to cash in the chips. They’re coming to Thedas at the moment that all the great powers are at their weakest, when there’s basically no one to oppose them. Tevinter? Fucked. Qunari? No military anymore. Antiva? Haha! lol, even. Fereldan? Basically gone. Orlais? In shambles. Free Marches? Decimated. Anderfels? There’s like 100 Wardens left in a swamp. Nevarra? I actually don’t know, maybe the lichlords can do something. Maybe Rivain could field some token resistance if they didn’t get hit by the Antaam too badly, but that’s kind of it IMO. This is THE time to come in and conquer(?) the land, or whatever they’re trying to do. Kill everybody?? Turn them into Darkspawn? Who knows!

Some speculation about what could be done to repel invasion:

- shit ton of blood magic

- fix titans, wake them up??? But idk if they’d be into it

- adaari, but idk if there are that many

- people with dragon blood, like the Theirins, are maybe super special and can do things?

- pirates, baby!!! Woooooo!

- I guess Mythal could know something? She can see the future a bit

- dragon army! Dragon army!!

#dragon age #datv spoilers #veilguard #dragon age: the veilguard spoilers #veilguard spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard

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indecisiveavocado · 2 days ago

Text

using this to show goyim the kind of stuff jews face

brief note: for quotes, some were replying to other users. Because I do not want them to be harassed, I have removed their name when it appears, and if that bothers you, you are welcome to make a world where I don't need to worry about that. I have also generally not mentioned the name of the antisemites, although in some cases I have, generally if the rhetoric was ridiculously antisemitic and/or I considered it worth flagging so Jews would know they should probably block that user.

further brief note: trigger warnings obviously apply here.

even briefer note: this is a long post

These are actual quotes, by the way.

ACTUAL GODDAMN QUOTES

For reference, here is my post in its entirety:

why are jews skeptical of antizionism? a guide for gentiles I'd be ok with the notion Israel wasn't needed if y'all could be trusted not to fuck it up when Jews needed somewhere to flee. But last time (to put it politely) you fucked it up real bad, and six million Jews died. Fundamentally, antizionism is asking Jews to put our lives in the hands of the same people who saw us screaming for help, who knew that death awaited us, and did all of nothing. Nada. Nil. (As demonstrated by the recent Amsterdam pogrom, Israel is totally ok and often proactive in flying Jews out. Around the same time as Palestinians were being exiled, Jews from all over the Arab world were being driven out in similar numbers. The reason you don't hear about that refugee crisis? Israel accepted them, without complaint or delay or objection, just urgency.) Pardon us for being a bit skeptical of your assertions that it won't happen again when a constant theme throughout our history has been it happening again. This is a slightly modified form of an older, longer, post's tags/tldr.

and the tags:

jumblr, jewish, jewblr, antisemitism, judaism, israel, jewish tumblr, tw antisemitism, anti zionism, shoah mention, tw shoah, amsterdam, amsterdam pogrom, jewish history.

Nothing horribly unreasonable. I made no comments on Gaza. I said I supported the existence of the state of Israel, which is different from supporting its policies. Regardless of what China does to Uyghurs, Uyghurs can and should not take over all of China. You would not be able to reasonably make an inference on my support, or lack thereof, for Israel's conduct in Gaza.

Here are some of the replies in the chat. Bolding is mine.

Israel only exists because the us gave asylum, ended the war and created israel. To turn around and say they did nothing is a gross mistelling of history but i get it, youre jewish. Rewriting history to glorify yourself and demonize everyone else is the cornerstone of your culture

“Pogrom” 🙄 so fucking disrespectful to the actual casualties of historical pogroms around the world. Your football fans couldn’t handle not being racist for five minutes. That shit may fly in Israel but not in Europe. [from a non Jew, seemingly; by the way, the pogrom, which has been widely called such by Jews and was called "reminiscent of a pogrom" by Deborah Lipstadt, current US Special Envoy to Combat Antisemitism, was premediated, before any of that happened, and as I've said before, even if someone is wearing a Trump 2024 shirt and jabbers about woke threats to the country, that is not an excuse to throw them in an almost-freezing river and not let them out until they say "Harris Walz 2024!"]

Why don't you look at your fucking religion for the foot if your problems and you think that you are now safe in occupied Palestine? We are going to sweep you back like garbage. Hi and get your revenge from those who turned you into soap [note that later they say they're Semitic. Those who turned us into soap were European. They're not the same. Unless they're saying Palestinians were Nazis...?]

I'm actually saying the username here, because Jews should immediately put them on their blocklist: michmanbiker. Also from Michmanbiker after I called them antisemitic:

Anti Jewish!!!! I am Semite [sic] and 99 % of Jews are slav mongrels. So cut the bullshit

[I should note here that:

Regardless of its original meaning, antisemitic now means anti-Jewish. It's like how "slave" was originally a synonym of Slav, but you'd be laughed out of the room if you referred to them as synonyms today.

Most Israelis are not Ashkenazi--from central/Eastern Europe, where Slavs live. Most of them are Sephardim -- from Spain, generally living in the Middle East for centuries before being driven out due to an outbreak of antisemitism following the foundation of the State of Israel

Both Sephardim and Ashkenazim are recognizably Middle Eastern genetically

Considering the historical situation in which Jews lived - frequently killed, dispersed as slaves, et cetera - and Judaism frowning on intermarriage and having few converts, it is reasonable to assume that a fair portion of that ancestry is from rape. It's also worth flagging that traditionally Jewish status is passed on from the mother, because the Romans raped so many Jewish women that the rabbis changed it, and there has been a whole book written about gendered violence [read: sexual violence] in the pogroms, as well as one about sexual violence in the Holocaust. This is effectively blaming Jews for being raped.]

One user said the following about Israel:

I go into youre property and say i want the half of it

This superficially sounds reasonable. As I replied, it is not:

No. Two people are living in a region. One is lesser in number because they were *forcibly exiled as slaves*. A neutral group draws up a plan for two states. One group accepts it. The other group, aided by every other country around them, rejects it and attempts to destroy the other group. Miraculously, the smaller group not only survives, but takes some land. (It also loses some - Jews were expelled from the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem following the first war).

From thegreatkhan, who I am again naming because they seem fairly active and at first glance reasonably innocuous in name and description:

How about you stop playing victim and just admit that the world is fucking tired of Israel atrocities?

I replied,

you realize that it's not inherent to a state of Israel? Zionism does not imply being a supporter of every action of Israel. It means being a supporter of the fact that Israel gets to exist. It's like confusing "Americanism" (to coin a phrase), which properly refers to "yes, the United States of America gets to exist" with "from 2017-early 2021 you supported every single action taken by the US government!!!". Or, for you (since you're Spanish), confusing thinking that Spain as a country should exist with supporting the Spanish Inquisition.

Instead of engaging with this, he repeated the precise same thing.

And

Isrelies are not a fucking marginalized community. If they were a marginalized community they would not be getting billions in help from the United States. [note that he's conflating Israel with Jews]

Considering your [not mine; this was in a reply to another user] post about the dropout apology, I don't care much about whatever you have to say. Israel is committing genocide, and supporting the existence of Israel in any way shape or form is the same as supporting said genocide. [So if I think Myanmar should not have been colonized by the British, I'm supporting the Rohingya genocide?] If people believe that the land of Israel belongs to them for some kind of special gift or god [that's not why I said it should exist - I am agnostic] then that's their problem. Nobody is special, and there's no excuse to go around stealing houses and land then claiming you are the victim. I desire the worst for anyone that supports Israel, whatever their background. [I have yet to see any examples of thegreatkhan harassing Evangelical Christian users, who are generally also pro-Israel. If that's false, I welcome corrections. But when you only harass Jews, instead of the much, much, larger Evangelical Christian segment of Zionism, it comes off as sketchy]

Michmanbiker drops in:

Jews are not a race they are a religion [we're both, it's called an ethnoreligion, it's fascinating!], a filthy one at that, 99% of Jews don't have one drop of Semite blood in their veins. The whole premise for that abhorrent thing you call Israel is based on a lie. Everything Jewish is a lie including Jews being Jews as you are all sons and daughters of Shikshas. Your common traits are cowardly, evil meek and weak. I guess that makes you a people.

Switching back to thegreatkhan's better concealed antisemitism (michmanbiker is actually fairly weird, their rhetoric is closer to rightwing antisemitism, but they are clearly left-wing. Evidence in support of the horseshoe theory):

How about you isrelies stop committing genocide? It's a pet peeve of mine, sorry.

This is my response:

I...I'm not Israeli. I've never even been to Israel. The only way for you to infer that I'm Israeli from this post is to have a) not looked at my profile, where I say I am a Pittsburgher, and you may not realize this but PITTSBURGH IS NOT IN ISRAEL, which is in itself ok, and b) assumed that everyone Jewish [or Zionist, I forgot to mention that] is Israeli. I have no more ability to influence Bibi than you do. I am not a citizen of Israel and, despite y'all, I am not planning on becoming one soon. I have never been to Palestine. I don't see how I could possibly be committing genocide. Oh, that's right! You equate all Jews with Israelis! Gee, that's not antisemitic. Hey, while we're doing this - how the hell do you justify supporting the Spanish Inquisition, which you clearly do, since you're Spanish [it's in his profile]? How about Spanish colonization? What do you think of Columbus's genocidal actions? Very hypocritical of you to support genocide (what do you think Columbus did, what are you, brainwashed) when it's the Spanish doing it, but hate it when it's the Jews. Spain shouldn't exist, it should all be given to the Basques. All Spanish people (except for the Basques of course) are devils (hey, you called Israelis that [no, I'm not joking, I wish I was joking], it's not like genocide is any less bad when it's in the past)! Oh and by the way I'm not anti-Spanish cause ACKSHULLY Spanish can also refer to Basques and I'm pro-Basque."

thegreatkhan completely missed the point and replied

I actually left Spain years ago [so you were there, which means my extremeness was slightly more justified than yours], and never looked back, and I'm working hard, (through legal means, and not just arriving at a new place and throwing someone out of their house like isrelies do [Tel Aviv was founded legally, most of them were founded legally, after purchasing land, and this was after we had been thrown out of our house - right of return, anyone?]) to bring my dad over. I'm a Spanish republican, and andalucian. I do believe that Basque country should be independent [christ, it was an example!], same as many of other Spanish counties that have been for centuries treated like shit by the central fascist government of franco. Unlike isrelies, i actually work hard to put my money where my mouth is, but I can't expect a tribe of child killers and rapists to comprehend that.

(The child killer argument, by the way, was frequently used to justify violence against Jews in the MIddle Ages. Worth flagging.)

All of this on a post that mentioned supporting the existence of a country. For no other country are supporting the country's existence and actions conflated. If someone says that they don't think Russia should be invaded and taken over by Finland, we don't accuse them of supporting Putin and genocide in Ukraine. If someone says that they don't think Eritrea should be invaded by Ethiopia, we don't accuse them of supporting what's been called the African North Korea. If someone says Afghanistan shouldn't be taken over by Pakistan, we don't accuse them of supporting the Taliban. If someone says why they don't support the British taking over Myanmar (again), we don't accuse them of supporting the Rohingya genocide. If someone says they don't think France should recolonize Mauritania, we don't accuse them of supporting slavery (Mauritania being the last country to outlaw slavery, in the 1980s, and, according to some estimates, a fifth of their population is enslaved). If they don't think the UK should conquer Iran, we don't accuse them of supporting sharia law and despising women. If they say Turkey shouldn't take over Saudi Arabia, we don't accuse them of hating women.

In fact, in many of those cases, it doesn't come up. It's accepted: of course Tibetans shouldn't run China, of course Russia has a right to exist, even if it commits atrocities.

All of those countries I listed--Russia, China, Eritrea, Afghanistan, Myanmar, Mauritania, Iran, Saudi Arabia--are committing human rights abuses, sometimes genocide. But you still don't need to explain why China and Myanmar deserve to exist.

#jumblr #jewblr #jewish #antisemitism #judaism #jewish tumblr #tw antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #israel #human rights #anti zionism #harassment #leftist hypocrisy #long post

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