#so now people are gonna stand up against you
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.
MASTERLIST
Topper prided himself in keeping out of peopleâs business.
He hadnât noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldnât have; he didnât do the whole âemotional radarâ thing.
But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.
You were his cousin, after all.Â
That didnât stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. Heâd loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldnât help but admire it.
You were like fire and gasoline.
But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.
Now, you were just⌠distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way youâd passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.
He wasnât a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.
But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didnât do feelings, and he didnât do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie.Â
Topper was all inâlaughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dadâs beers and pretending you werenât gonna get caught.
But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.
You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like heâd just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.
He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasnât a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.
Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.
âCrap,â he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.
Topper didnât think about itâbecause thinking wasnât really his strong suitâhe just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.
He hit call. He wasnât trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:
âWomenâs Health Center, how can I help you?â
His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.
You were back.
Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didnât match his pounding heart.
He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way youâd acted when heâd asked if you were okayâhe couldnât stop trying to force the pieces into place.
Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasnât exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.
When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.
He climbed out, doing his best to act normalâwhich, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it.Â
The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.
âYou gotta chill,â Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. âWhy do you look like youâre about to punch somebody?â
Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. âWhatâd you find out?â
He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. âNice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?â
âDonât fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?â
âYeah, I figured it out,â Topper shot back, crossing his arms. âBut why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know whatâs going on?â
Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. âDidnât think youâd actually get it, to be honest.â
âBro, Iâm not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? Iâm still confused as fuck over here.â
Rafeâs mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. âShe passed out on me, remember?â
âSo?â Topper shot back, frowning. âIâve seen you pass out for, like, way less.â
âIt wasnât the same. It wasnât a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And sheâs been weird lately, avoiding everyone.â Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. âThe hospital did blood work.â
Topper, whoâd been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.
âWow,â he mused, dragging the word out. âOkay. So, howâd you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didnât think that was in your wheelhouse."
Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time.Â
"The fuck are you talking about?â
Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. âI just expected you to, likeâŚfreak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.â
âThrow a punch about what?â Rafe snapped.
âAboutââ Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. âWait. What are you supposed to do?â
Rafeâs hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didnât wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated.Â
âDonât do that, man,â he added, pointing a finger âIâll help her figure it out. What else can I do?â
Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. âDamn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.â
âTop, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?â Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they werenât on the same page.
Topper blinked, âIâm just saying youâre handling it better than I thought. Especially since sheâs notâuh, showing yet.â
âNot showing what?â
ââŚThe bump?â
He immediately realized heâd said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, andâokay, maybe he should just stop talking.Â
Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.
âWhat the fuck?â Rafeâs voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. âWhat bump?!â
His laugh fizzled out under Rafeâs glare, it was starting to feel less like âconcerned ex-boyfriendâ and more like âinterrogating cop.â He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck.Â
Cool. Stay cool.
âWait,â Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. âWhat do you think is wrong with her?â
His brain was spinning in a way it wasnât built for. He was a simple guyâhe liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.
Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.
âI think sheâs got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think sheâs pregnant?â
Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.
âWell fucking shit,â Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure heâd just signed his death warrant. âIâI didnât say sheâs pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a womenâs health center, andâfuck, man, Iâm dead. Iâm so dead.â
Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. âStart talking. Now.â
âI wasnât snooping, okay? It justâhappened. I wasnât trying to get in her business, butââ
âBut what?â Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasnât the one he feared right now.
You were going to kill him.
He could already picture the look on your face when you found outâthose cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for somethingâanythingâthat wouldnât get him killed or disowned.
âYou better explain what the fuck you mean by âhappened,ââ Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topperâs collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.
Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldnât.Â
âI called the number!â Topper yelped. âI didnât even mean to, it wasâdude, sheâs gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.â
âNot if I kill you first,â Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when heâd looked ready to punch him. âYouâre telling me you think sheâs pregnant? And you didnât remember to tell me sooner?â
âI didnât!â Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. âItâs not like sheâs gonna tell me this kind of stuff.â
âDid she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?â
Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. âI asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.â
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.
âNo, no way. Sheâs probably⌠I donât fucking know, changing her pill or something.â
Topper raised an eyebrow. âChanging her pill?â
âYeah,â Rafe said quickly, âOrâwhat else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe sheâs getting one of those.â
âUh-huh,â Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. âSure. Just a⌠routine check-up?â
âExactly,â Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. âThey donât just deal with⌠y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesnât mean anything.â
Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. âI mean, yeah, they do other stuff⌠but donât you thinkââ
âI donât think anything, thereâs nothing to think about. Sheâs fine. Sheâsâsheâs fine.â He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.
âOkay,â Topper started, his tone cautious. âI get that you donât want to jump to conclusions, butââ
âIâm not jumping to conclusions!â Rafe barked, spinning around âYouâre the one making it into something itâs not! Sheâs notâshe wouldnâtâshe hasnât told me anything,â He muttered finally, âAnd if sheâs hiding this⌠from meâŚâ
Heâd never seen Rafe like thisâangry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasnât good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasnât just madâhe was scared. Topper couldnât decide if that made him feel better or worse.Â
âHoly shit,â Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like heâd just sprinted a mile. âHoly shit, what ifâwhat if she is?â
âDude, breathe,â Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. âYou donât evenââ
âEven ifâifâshe was, how the hell would that evenââ He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldnât decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.
Topper didnât need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.
Rafeâs breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. âNo. No way. Itâs notâsheâd tell me, right? Sheâd fucking tell me.â
Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.
You, holding a babyâRafeâs babyâin your arms.
âThis doesnât make any sense. We were careful. Sheâs just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?â
âYouâre asking me? I barely passed bio. Iâm not exactly a walking textbook onââ He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafeâs face. âI donât know whatâs going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Donât screw it up more than it already is.â
âAnd if I donât handle it right?â
Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.
âThen I guess Iâll see you in hell, man. Because sheâs gonna kill us both.â
Rafeâs hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasnât adding up.
âShe hasnât said a word to me,â Rafe muttered, âNot at the hospital, not since. And you thinkâŚâ He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face.Â
Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.
âIÂ guess, but I swear, it wasnât on purpose.â
Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. âYou called a random number. How does that âjust happenâ?â
He huffed, throwing his hands up. âI was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this numberâI didnât think! I just⌠acted.â He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. âI didnât mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? Youâre the one who made me go digging in the first place!â
âYou really think thatâs whatâs going on?â Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.
âYou said sheâs acting weird, and then there was that number, andâŚâ He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck.Â
âDo you even understand what this means? If sheâsâif thereâs aââ He broke off, âIâd have toâJesus Christ, what would I even do? Iâm notâGod.â
His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.
âIf she didnât tell meââ His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.
âMaybe just... ask her?â
 âAsk her?â he repeated, his voice disbelieving.
âYeah, you know,â Topper said, gesturing vaguely. âTalk to her? Maybe find out whatâs going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?â
Rafe shook his head, âNo. If she wanted me to know, sheâd tell me. Sheâs... sheâs dealing with her own stuff. Itâs not my place to push.â
 âSince when do you not push?â
âSince now,â Rafe snapped, though even he didnât sound convinced.
âRafeââ
âNo, seriously,â Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. âIf sheâsâif sheâs going through this, if sheâs pregnant, and she didnât tell me?â He let out a bitter chuckle, âWhat the fuck does that say? About me.â
Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.
Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldnât physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.
âI wasâfuck. She thinks what? That I wouldnât show up for this. She didnât tell me because she doesnât think I deserve to know.â
âThatâs not true,â Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafeâs empty laugh stopped him.
âIsnât it?â Rafeâs voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. âWhat the hell have I ever done to make her think Iâd be there? That Iâdââ He broke off. âShit. I wouldnât blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.â
âYou still care about her, right?â Topper pressed, knowing he didnât have to ask to know the answer.
Rafeâs head snapped up, âSheâs the only thing Iâve ever cared about.â
He nodded slowly, âThen prove it.â
The envelope sat exactly where youâd left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.
No. No way.
It was fine. Fine.
The number wasnât even labeledâjust digits scrawled hastily, you hadnât touched it in days. Still, you couldnât stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper couldâve seen it, let alone put two and two together.
You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.
He didnât see it. He couldnât have seen it.
Then why had he acted so⌠off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energyâit was all so unlike him.
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things couldâve set him off.Â
Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe heâd remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.
Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldnât have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yetâŚ
You sighed, rubbing your temples.Â
âPregnancy brain,â you muttered to yourself. âMaking me paranoid over nothing.â
Of course that didnât stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelopeâs color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that heâd ask, of courseâTopper wasnât the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.
The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasnât like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know Iâm here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, thoughâŚ
Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you werenât losing it, that Topperâs weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarahâs number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, âHey, whatâs wrong?â
You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.
âNothingâs wrong. I justâŚâ You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow.Â
âTopperâs been acting strange. And I think Iâm just overthinking it, but itâs making me crazy.â
She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. âSo the Topper panic spiral. Thatâs what weâre dealing with?â
âBasically,â you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. âBut this time⌠He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.â You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. âBut he couldnât have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.â
âOkay,â Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. âFirst, letâs just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didnât, he wouldnât assume the worst. Heâs your cousin; he knows you donât tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?â
âYeah⌠I guess.â You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  âBut what if he does put it together, Sarah? I donât know if Iâm ready for that.â
âHe wonât,â she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. âAnd you donât need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. Youâre allowed to handle it however you need to. Youâre not doing anything wrong.â
You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,â you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. âMaybe I'm being paranoid.â
âPregnancy brain,â she teased, and you couldnât help but smile.
You hung up feeling marginally better.
Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldnât fully explain something.
But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasnât malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.
You busied yourself with small tasksâfolding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasnât until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospitalâs number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.
âHello?â
âHi, is this Miss Thornton?â the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.
âThis is she."
âThis is Linda from the hospital. Iâm calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarilyââ
âWait, what?â you interrupted, not liking where this was going, âWhat do you mean you lost information?â
âOh, nothing to worry about,â Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. âWe managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.â
Your breath caught. âCalled... my emergency contact?â
âYes.â
âSarah Cameron? She didnât tell me someone called.â
âSheâs not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?â
Fuck.
Your heart was in your throat. âWhat... what did he tell him?â
âHe only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.â
âNothing specific,â you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, heâd already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?
âWe need you to come back in. Itâs possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.â
You didnât even hear the rest of her explanation.
Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.
Infection, that was what sheâd said. That was all it was. Not⌠not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldnât have just calledâtheyâd have told Rafe.
âStop,â you muttered aloud, shaking your head. âStop spiraling.â
But your brain wouldnât listen.
âGeneric message,â Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadnât even realized youâd left?
You didnât want to text Sarah again.
You could imagine her smirking, âI told you, heâs not going to magically grow psychic overnight.â Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.
He didnât need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarahâs voice in your head. âYouâre not doing anything wrong.â
Except it didnât feel like that. You hadnât thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadnât needed to.Â
You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.
âThis is so stupid,â you muttered, but your voice didnât make it feel any less real. You werenât even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?
âOkay,â you said out loud. âOkay, itâs fine. Everythingâs fine.â
The sound of your voice didnât even convince you. Your brain wouldnât stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didnât want to think about.Â
What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him andâstop.Â
Stop.Â
You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasnât cute.
You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, youâd made it this far without imploding.
You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You shouldâve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep itâjust in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.
Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and thenâbamâsuddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?
You could feel it alreadyâthe panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone.Â
What ifâwhat if itâs that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didnât even realize were dots?
No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.
You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You werenât that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talkingâTopper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.
Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because heâd be cruelâno, that wasnât his style. Heâd just be soâŚÂ himself.
Overwhelming, determined to âfixâ things for you, even when you didnât ask for it.Â
You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.
You werenât spiraling over things that hadnât even happened yet.
But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans:Â What if itâs already too late?
You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasnât even that suspicious, it couldâve been anything.
You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.
Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasnât showing yetâthank godâbut you couldnât help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.
You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A driveâthatâs what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door openâ
âand froze.
Rafeâs hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didnât even try to hide the way your breath hitched.Â
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Standing there on the porch like he hadnât just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.
His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didnât push past you, didnât move his weight forwardâjust stood there.
He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. âThey called me last night.â
Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, thatâs all it was.
âAnd? You couldâve ignored it.â
His hand flexed at his side like he didnât know what to do with it. âI thought something might be wrong.â
âItâs not.â Your voice was clipped, cold. âThey called the wrong number. End of story.â
He didnât rise to the bait.
âI thoughtââ He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. âI thought you were sick.â
âLike I said, it was a mix-up.â
His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.
âFunny, they didnât sound mixed up when they said your name,â he drawled, his tone probing. âWanna try again?â
âMind your fucking business,â Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. âI donât need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?â you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. âDonât you have someone else to worry about?"
You felt cornered with every second he stood there.
âWe need to talk.â
Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, heâd stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasnât something you were good at, heâd already taken too much. He always took too much.
âI donât owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.â
He didnât. Of course, he didnât.
Rafe didnât know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didnât back away.
âYouâre right,â he said, surprising you. âYou donât, but Iâm not leaving until we talk.â
The way he said, it wasnât even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like heâd already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it.Â
That scared you more than anything.
âThereâs nothing to talk about,â you hissed, âWhatever you think you know, you donât.â
He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, âYou sure about that?â
âGod, youâre always like this. Always overstepping, always assumingââ
âIÂ know."
All the noise in your headâyour spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denialsâwent silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadnât raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.
No, he couldnâtâhe didnât, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didnât move, didnât repeat himself. He couldnât know.
Your tongue went dry.Â
âWhat are you talking about?â You couldnât breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, âYou donât know shit.â
âI think I do.â His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasnât cold or angry; it wasnât even accusing. He didnât sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.
You prayed to come up with somethingâanythingâto deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged.Â
âYouâre delusional,â you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.
He just shook his head, âYou donât have to lie to me, youâre scared, youâre not even trying to hide it.â
It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you werenât ready to acknowledge.
âOh, fuck off.â You threw your hands up. âYou donât know shit about what Iâm feeling. Youâve got no right toâIâm not lying.â
It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.
âDonât pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if youâve got something to say, say it.â
âYouâre pregnant, arenât you?â
The thing youâd been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. âT-Thatâs insane. Youâve lost your mind.â
Rafe wasnât gloating or triumphantâhe just looked⌠resigned, heâd pieced it together before he showed up.
âDonât do that. Donât lie to me, not about this.â
You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.
Heâd already seen it.
âI mean it, Rafe.â Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. âGet the fuck out of my house.â
God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.
âTell me Iâm wrong.â
You thought about what heâd do if he knewâreally knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you?Â
Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. âYouâre wrong.â
You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.
âAm I?â
Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. âWhy? Why do you even care? Itâs not like youââ
âBecause itâs mine.â
Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldnât hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw somethingâhell, anythingâback at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.
âIââ you stammered, shaking your head violently, âNo. You donât know what youâre talking about. Youâreââ
âHey, hey, justâjust stop,â he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. âIâm notâJesus, Iâm not here to fight with you, okay? Iâm not here to make this harder.â
Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too lateâlate to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, thatâs all you had to get through.
Five days until you didnât have to think about it anymore.Â
This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldnât bring a baby into this mess.
âYouâre doing a hell of a job at that.â
âI just want to help. If you let meââ
âNo,â you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. âIâm fixing it.â
âFixingâ?â Rafeâs brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. âWhat does that even mean?â
âIt means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.â
His brow furrowed. âItâs not fakeââ His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didnât give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.
âOf course. Of course, itâs mine,â you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.
You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.
It wasnât like you had a choice.
Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like youâd ripped them out of someone elseâs mouth, right or wrong didnât even matter anymore. There wasnât space in your life for thisâfor him, for a baby, for any of it.
A muffled knock sounded from the front doorâtentative, like he was giving you a moment.
âGo away,â you yelled, your voice hoarse.
âOpen the door.â
Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didnât want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at youâlike he knewâit was unbearable.
How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.
You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing youâd started crying until your sleeve came back damp.
âPlease, just open the door. We can talkâjust talk, okay?
âNo,â you muttered to the empty room. âNo, Iâm not doing this.â
You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out.Â
âDonât shut me out like this,â he begged. âI canâtâfuck, I canât stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, thatâs all Iâm asking.â
He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didnât, that wasnât the Rafe you were used to.
Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He wouldâve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both.Â
You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he wouldâve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.
This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.
Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everythingâthe desperation, the crack in his voice.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling.Â
âI know youâre scared,â he continued, âAnd I know you think Iâll screw this upâGod knows I probably will. But please donât keep me in the dark. Just tell me whatâs going on.â
You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?
âPlease,â Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again.Â
Steel doors donât warp as easily as wood.
You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didnât deserve thisâdidnât deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.
Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.
Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldnât get through even if he had the key.
His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.
You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didnât. Nothing wouldânot until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.
God, you really needed a new doorâand a new heart.
One that didnât twist at the sound of his voice, that didnât flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didnât feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldnât let this go.
You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything outâhis voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.
âPlease, just talk to me,â Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.
You couldnât help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.
Perhaps she was the reason heâd changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collectedânothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if sheâd taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this wayâheâd learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.
You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.
âTalk to me.â
No. Not this time.
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WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.
pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!
inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula
even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you.Â
her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.
âi thought we were gonna question her together.â
ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter.Â
âyou were taking too long,â he shrugs. âdonât worry â sheâs clean.â
you trust ekkoâs judgement, but you still canât reckon with the fact that vi is alive. youâd splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you werenât dreaming.Â
âi donât know.â you walk closer until youâre standing arms length from vi. âthe vi i knew wouldnât be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.âÂ
you examine her carefully, and you imagine sheâs doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up â stronger and sharper. youâd spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you arenât sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for.Â
âi guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,â you deadpan.
vi quirks an eyebrow at you. âshoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.â
she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide thereâs nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do.Â
her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:
âi did those tattoos myself.â
vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.
âi know. theyâre beautiful.â her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. âi was just messing with you, stargirl.â
vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.
gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin.Â
âi was messing with you, too. the hair â you look hot.â
you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.
sheâs here.
sheâs not some ghost from your past.
sheâs really here.Â
youâre so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her.Â
âthatâs all i get?â she wonders, licking her lips.
youâre tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.
âshould iâŚ.give yâall a moment?â ekko asks. âiâll go get the piltie.â
you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes.Â
you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold sheâs always had on you.
time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.
âit's fine, e. letâs show them around.â
âstill a night owl, i see.â
vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.
âthought youâd be in bed with that enforcer of yours.âÂ
âher nameâs caitlyn.â
âcaitlyn,â you scoff, shaking your head.Â
the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness.Â
âyou say her name like youâre gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.â
âtechnically, we never broke up,â you point out.Â
a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin.Â
âif thatâs the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.â
you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos.Â
âdonât worry, iâm kidding!â vi pauses. âmostly.â
the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath.Â
âwhatever. i donât care who youâve fucked, or who youâre fucking. and, you donât owe me anything. itâs not like weâre anything to each other, anymore.â
vi sucks in a sharp breath â she wouldnât have expected such harsh words from you.
âis that why you canât even look at me?â she finally asks.
youâd been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelightsâ base, and throughout dinner, too.Â
whereâs the girl sheâd spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? whereâs the girl who brightened viâs life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?
âi donât know,â you admit. âpart of me still canât believe youâre alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder ââ
âhey. itâs my job to worry about everyone, remember?â
âyou werenât here.â
âi am now.â
she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that sheâs not going anywhere, at least for tonight.Â
which is probably more time than either of you thought youâd ever have together again.
vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more.Â
âthat enforcer of yours ââ
âsheâs not my ââ
âwhoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what youâve been through, what weâve all been throughâŚ. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but itâs hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?âÂ
of course, she remembers.Â
âthat if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.â
 âwe. whoâs âwe,â vi?â you laugh, but thereâs no joy behind it. âweâve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.â
âthatâs not fair.âÂ
âa lot of things arenât fair.â you gesture around at the base. âthis â this community â took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but iâm scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.â
you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then â the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones.Â
you let out a shuddery breath. âis it even all worth it?â
vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes viâs chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being.Â
that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.
âi....i think so,â vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. âmaybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we donât see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.â
you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.
"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.
"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?â
there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.
"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."
you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."
"i thought you loved that about me."
you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. itâs contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.
âi missed you,â she admits.Â
âyeah?â your voice is softer than a whisper.Â
you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.
vi nods. âso fucking much, and i want to prove it. if youâll let me. please.â
âvi,â you exhale. sheâs so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. âi canât. youâre with that enforcer.â
âweâre not together,â vi assures, bumping her nose against yours.Â
she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away.Â
âyouâre still with her, though, and youâre leaving in the morning,â you continue. âthings are already soâŚ.complicated. i just donât think we should start something we wonât be able to finish.â
with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. viâs sure that youâre not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.
maybe youâre still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because thatâs how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.
but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and sheâs determined to make them all melt away.
so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:
âhavenât we already?âÂ
you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.
a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things â youâre confused, youâre scared, youâre tempted, youâre tired â and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because itâs true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved.Â
âplease, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night ââ
sheâs cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.
the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of viâs stomach, it was nothing compared to this.
she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning.Â
your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isnât what she needs, sheâs sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.
you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek.Â
fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.
âyouâre so beautiful.â
vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.
you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."
âyeah, i know. they should build statues of me,â she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.
youâre the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful.Â
sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often.Â
no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.
âbad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."
by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.
âhm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.âÂ
she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.
âyou werenât supposed to see those,â you groan. "they're personal...."
it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.
vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"
"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"
vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.
she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.
âdon't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."
âis that soâŚ.â your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. âmaybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, youâve imagined.â
vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:
âsure thing, stargirl.â
#vi x reader#arcane x reader#vi arcane x reader#vi arcane#arcane#vi#vi league of legends#saf writes#arcane season 2
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â¨Peanutâ¨
Summary: Stuck in a safe house with Soldier Boy is a test of patienceâand nerves. Heâs 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. Youâre 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 isnât my first language, so please be lenient. đâ¨
The room felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for him to make the next move. Soldier BoyâBen, as Butcher had instructed you to call himâsat 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 didnât matter. Nothing could drown out the weight of his presence. The way he dominated the space even when he wasnât speaking. Even when he wasnât looking at you.
You didnât know why he tolerated you. Out of all the people whoâd tried to babysit him since Butcher hauled him out of whatever Russian nightmare heâd been buried in, you were the only one still standing. Maybe it was because you didnât 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 wasnât quite a smirk. âYou donât have to sit there like a deer in headlights, you knowâ, he drawled, not looking up. His voice was gravelly, tinged with a roughness that made you want to shrink further into the couch. âNot gonna biteâ.
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the couch cushion. âIâm fine hereâ, you said quickly, your voice thin and brittle.
âSure you areâ. 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. âYouâre terrible at pretending, you know that?â.
Your breath hitched, and you cursed yourself for it. He noticed everything. âPretending what?â, you muttered, eyes glued to the TV screen.
âThat youâre not scared shitless of meâ, he said, his tone almost amused now. âItâs cute. Kind of pathetic, but cuteâ.
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. âIâm not scared of youâ.
Ben laughedâdeep, low, and sharp enough to make you flinch. âYeah, sure. Keep telling yourself that, sweetheartâ.
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, donât 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. âRelax. Iâm not gonna hurt youâ. His tone softenedâjust barelyâbut it still sent a shiver down your spine. âNot unless you give me a reason toâ.
That didnât 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. âYou knowâ, he said, his voice quieter now, âitâs exhausting, being treated like a goddamn bomb all the timeâ.
You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. He wasnât 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 didnât know what to say. Didnât 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 wouldnât 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 noâhe 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 closeâtouching. 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 didnât dare move, didnât dare breathe. If he noticed your discomfortâand of course, he didâhe didnât let on. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes flicking toward the TV screen before turning to you.
âWhatcha watching?â, 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. âJust⌠whatever was onâ.
He snorted. âRiveting choiceâ. Another handful of popcorn disappeared into his mouth, and he leaned back, spreading out like he owned the place. Which, letâs 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 wasnât 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.
âYouâre tinyâ, he said abruptly, almost thoughtfully, his gaze dragging up and down your frame. âLike, seriously. How are you even a person? Youâre what, a buck twenty soaking wet?â.
You stiffened, your face flushing. âIâm⌠normal-sizedâ, you mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes.
He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound vibrating through his chest. âNormal? Sweetheart, if I even looked at you wrong, youâd probably snap in halfâ.
Your stomach churned at the words, at the casual way he said them. Like it wasnât a threat, just a fact. And maybe it was. He wasnât wrongâhe could break you without even trying. Supe or not, he was built like a goddamn tank, and you⌠well, you werenât.
His gaze lingered on you, sharp and appraising, like he was trying to figure you out. âWhatâre you so scared of, huh?â, he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. âYou think Iâm gonna hurt you?â.
You didnât answer. You couldnât. The lump in your throat was too big, your fear too loud.
âRelax, dollâ, he said, leaning a little closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. âIf I wanted to crush you, I wouldnât need to waste my time sitting here talking to you, now would I?â.
That didnât 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.
âSoâ, he drawled, cocking an eyebrow. âGot a boyfriend, Peanut?â.
The word caught you off guard, and you glanced at him sharply, your confusion momentarily outweighing your fear. âP-Peanut?â, 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. âYeah, Peanut. Youâre tiny, right? Probably weigh, what, eighty-five? Ninety pounds tops? I could pick you up with one hand, and youâd barely be a snackâ. He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, like he found the whole thing hilarious. âPeanut fitsâ.
Your face burned with embarrassment, but you didnât say anything. What could you say? He wasnât exactly wrong, but hearing it said out loudâespecially by himâmade 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.
âCâmonâ, he said, his voice lighter now, teasing almost. âYou seriously donât have some guy waiting around for you? Someone to take care of you? Feels like youâd need a bodyguard just to make it through the grocery storeâ.
You shook your head, your voice barely audible. âNo boyfriendâ.
He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. âHuh. Surprising. A thing like you? Iâd think guys would be lining upâ.
His words werenât comforting. They werenât 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.
âWhatâs the matter, Peanut?â, he asked. âIâm just making conversation. You donât have to look so freaked out all the timeâ.
âIâm not freaked outâ, you lied, your voice trembling just enough to betray you.
He snorted, clearly not buying it. âSure youâre notâ. 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.
âIâm not gonna hurt you. Told you already, didnât I?â.
You nodded again, but the tension in your body didnât 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.
âManâ, he muttered, shaking his head. âYouâre wound up tighter than a fucking springâ. He reached for the popcorn bag again, the casual motion a stark contrast to the intensity of his words. âI donât know what the hell Butcher was thinking, sticking me with you. Youâre not exactly intimidatingâ.
You bristled at that, a tiny flicker of indignation breaking through your fear. âI wasnât supposed to intimidate youâ, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. âIâm just⌠here to keep an eye on youâ.
He laughedâloud and abrupt, the sound startling in the otherwise quiet room. âYouâre supposed to keep an eye on me?â. He leaned back again, throwing one arm across the back of the couch again and grinning down at you like heâd just heard the best joke of his life. âFuck. Thatâs richâ.
You didnât respond, biting your lip to keep the words locked in. You couldnât afford to snap, couldnât afford to give him a reason to escalate. Not with how close he was. Not with how easily he could overpower you.
Benâs laugh faded into a low hum, almost as if he were talking to himself, but the words were loud enough to reach you. âYou knowâ, he muttered, swirling the last of the whiskey in the bottle before setting it on the floor, âI could help you relax. Youâre all wound up like a little bird that flew into the wrong fucking cageâ.
The comment made your stomach tighten, your pulse spiking as you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His gaze wasnât on the TV. It wasnât 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.
âYeahâ, he said, his voice dropping lower, rougher.
âIâd probably crush you. Tiny little thing like you. ButâŚâ. He leaned his head back against the couch, as though considering something deeply. âI could figure it out. Work on my self-restraintâ. He exhaled sharply through his nose, almost like a laugh, but it didnât carry any humor. âNot sure youâd survive, thoughâ.
Your throat went dry, and your mind raced for somethingâanythingâto say to steer the conversation somewhere less terrifying. But the words wouldnât 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.
âI mean, shitâ, he went on, almost lazily, like he was just idly musing. âItâd be a tight fit, no doubt about that. But Iâd manageâ. He turned his head toward you, one eyebrow quirking as though he was waiting for some kind of reaction. âWhat dâyou think, Peanut? Think you could handle me?â.
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.
âRelaxâ, he said again, though this time it sounded more like a command than a suggestion. âIâm just messing with youâ. He leaned back again, popping another piece of popcorn into his mouth like the last thirty seconds hadnât just happened.
But the tension in the air didnât dissipate. His words lingered, sinking into your mind like oil, staining everything. You didnât dare move, didnât 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. âYou really gotta lighten up, Peanutâ, he said, almost absently. âYouâre making me feel like a fucking monsterâ.
You wanted to tell him he wasnât 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 couldnât. So you stayed silent, staring at the TV and praying that heâd 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.
âYou knowâ, he started, his voice low and casual, âI heard Butcher and that cum-guzzler talking about youâ. He popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth, chewing slowly as though giving himself time to savor the words that would follow. âSomething about why youâre so jumpy around supesâ.
Your heart clenched, and you went rigid. You hadnât realized Butcher had told himâwhy 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. âCanât say I blame youâ, he continued. âSounds like you had a real shitty time of it. Some asshole supe gets a little too handsy, decides heâs owed something just because heâs got powers. That about right?â.
The knot in your stomach tightened, but you didnât answer. You couldnât. Your throat felt like it was closing, the weight of his words pulling every horrible memory to the surface.
Ben didnât 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. âHereâs the thing, Peanutâ, he said, his tone quieter now, almost contemplative. âGuys 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 thatâ.
You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. âWhy⌠why are you bringing this up?â.
He shrugged, the motion casual, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed him. âJust thinking out loud. If thatâs the only experience youâve got with supes⌠well, no wonder youâre scared shitless. Thatâs the memory youâre stuck withâ. His gaze slid to you, sharp and probing. âBut maybe I could fix thatâ.
âFix it?â, you echoed, your voice trembling. âWhat⌠what does that mean?â.
He smirked again, leaning back and stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing just a hairâs breadth away from your shoulder. âIâm just sayingâ, he drawled, âmaybe if you had a different kind of experience, you wouldnât be so fucking scared all the time. Replace that shitty memory with a fucking awesome oneâ.
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. âThatâs notâŚâ. You trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. âThatâs not how it worksâ.
He tilted his head, studying you with a mixture of amusement and something darker. âYou 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 bullshitâ.
You shook your head, your pulse hammering in your ears. âI donât thinkââ.
âCalm down, Peanutâ, he interrupted, his voice dropping into that low, commanding tone again. âIâm not saying Iâd do anything. Unless, you know, you wanted me toâ.
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.
âBut heyâ, he continued after a moment, his tone lightening again as he grabbed another handful of popcorn. âItâs your call. Iâm just saying⌠I could make it worth your whileâ.
You didnât respond, couldnât 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 hadnât pushed things too far, but he hadnât stopped either. The teasing, the lingering touches, the weight of his gazeâit was constant, suffocating, impossible to ignore.
And now, as you sat there waiting for him, you hated yourself for the stupid summer dress youâd chosen to wear. It was hot, unbearably so, and the safe house didnât have air conditioning. The dress had seemed like a practical choice at the timeâlightweight, easy to move inâbut now it felt like a mistake. The fabric clung to your skin and you couldnât 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 didnât help. The room felt stifling, and the faint sound of the shower only added to the tension. You couldnât stop your mind from wandering, couldnât stop the little voice whispering in the back of your head: Whatâs he going to say this time? Whatâs 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.
âHey, Peanutâ, 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. âDidnât think Iâd keep you waiting, did you?â.
You swallowed hard, your eyes darting back to the TV. âI wasnâtââ, you started, but your voice faltered. âI mean, Iâm fineâ.
âSure you areâ, 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. âNice dressâ, he commented, his tone light but his gaze sharp. âDidnât know we were getting all dressed up todayâ.
Your face burned, and you tugged at the hem again, wishing it were longer. âItâs just⌠itâs hotâ, you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.
âThat it isâ, he agreed, his smirk widening. âBut you didnât have to go all out for me, Peanut. A little effort goes a long way, though, so⌠thanksâ.
You clenched your jaw, your hands twisting the fabric of the dress in your lap. âI didnâtââ.
âIâm just messing with you. Donât get so wound upâ, his voice dropping into that familiar, teasing drawl.
You wanted to snap back, wanted to tell him to knock it off, but you couldnât. You just sat there, frozen, your heart pounding as he shifted slightly closer, the edge of his thigh brushing against yours.
The problem wasnât just that you were afraid of Ben anymoreâthough 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 lowerâyour breath hitchedâthe 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 yetâŚ
âYouâre quiet, Peanutâ, he said suddenly, his voice breaking through your frantic thoughts. His tone was casual, but you knew better than to believe it wasnât deliberate. He always knew how to needle you just enough to get under your skin. âI mean, youâre always quiet, but today? Whatâs the deal?â.
You didnât 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.
âCâmonâ, he pressed, his voice dropping an octave, rich and deep enough to make your stomach do an unwelcome flip. âYouâre the only action Iâve got in this shithole theyâre hiding me in. Least you could do is talk to me. Iâm bored as hell over hereâ.
Your hands twisted in your lap, gripping the fabric of your dress like it was the only thing anchoring you to reality. You couldnât bring yourself to look at him, not with the way his words made your skin flush and your heart pound.
âI donât know what to sayâ, you mumbled finally, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ben leaned back against the couch, his towel shifting just slightly. âYou donât have to say much, Peanutâ, he drawled, his smirk audible in his tone. âJust give me something. Anything. Hell, even a complaint about how much you hate being stuck with me. I know youâve got thoseâ.
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.
âI donât hate youâ, you blurted out, immediately regretting it.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. âDonât you now?â. His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just slightly, the arm draped over the back of the couch brushing your shoulder. âCouldâve fooled me with the way you canât even look at me half the timeâ.
You swallowed hard, your fingers knotting into the hem of your dress. âI justâŚâ, you stammered, unsure how to explain without giving away too much. âYou make me nervousâ.
Ben tilted his head, his smirk softening into something almost curious. âNervous, huh?â, he repeated, his voice quieter now, like he was mulling over the word. âWhy? You still think Iâm gonna hurt you?â.
âNoâ, you said quickly, though the fear still lingered at the edges of your mind. âItâs not thatâ.
âThen what?â, he asked, his tone deceptively gentle, but his gaze was sharp, unrelenting. âWhat is it about me thatâs got you so wound up?â.
You didnât answer, couldnât 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.
âShit, Peanutâ, he muttered, shaking his head. âYouâre like a puzzle I canât quite figure out. Makes me want to push, see how far youâll bend before you breakâ.
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 didnât know how much longer you could keep this up, this fragile pretense of calm, but you knew one thing for sure: he wasnât going to let this go. Not tonight.
The tension in the room was suffocating, and you couldnât take it anymore. Your hands trembled as you placed them on your thighs, pushing yourself up from the couch. âI⌠I need some waterâ, you mumbled, not daring to look at him. You didnât wait for his responseâif he even had oneâand 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 didnât.
The quiet click of his footsteps behind you made you freeze.
âThirsty, huh?â, Benâs voice came from far too close, his tone casual but laced with that ever-present teasing edge. He was right behind you nowâyou could feel him, his heat radiating like a furnace, the space between you barely a breath.
âI just needed some spaceâ, you said, your voice quiet and shaky, gripping the glass like it was a lifeline.
âSpace?â, 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. âStill canât handle being near me?â.
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.
âYou look really pretty todayâ, 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.
âDidnât think a little dress like that could make someone soâŚâ. He trailed off, his fingers gently tucking the strand behind your ear from behind, his touch warm against your skin. âSweet. You do surprise me, Peanutâ.
Your heart pounded, your breath catching in your throat. âBen, pleaseâŚâ, you whispered, barely able to get the words out. You didnât know what you were asking forâfor him to stop, to step back, to leave you aloneâbut your voice carried the weight of your unease.
âOh c'mon nowâ, he murmured, his tone dipping into that low, velvety register that always made your stomach twist. âIâm just saying you look nice. No harm in that, right?â.
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 didnât feel like enough. The air around you still felt heavy, charged with his presence.
âYou donât take compliments well, do you?â, he asked, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice as he leaned casually against the counter. âWhatâs so scary about me telling you youâre pretty?â.
âNothingâ, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.
Benâs 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.
âYou knowâ, he murmured, his voice low and teasing, almost contemplative, âitâs been quite a while for me.â He leaned a little closer, his arm brushing lightly against yours as he rested it on the counter beside you. âAnd with you here, looking like that, acting all shy and innocentâŚâ.
He trailed off, his smirk widening as his gaze dragged back up to meet yours. âItâs really hard for me, Peanutâ.
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. âBen, stopâ, you said softly, your voice barely audible, but there was a tremble in it you couldnât hide.
âStop what?â, he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes betrayed him. He wasnât innocent, not even close. âIâm just being honest. You donât want me to lie, do you?â.
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 youâlike he was sizing you up, deciding just how far he could pushâmade your pulse race for all the wrong reasons.
âIâm not⌠Iâm not doing anythingâ, you stammered, your words tumbling over themselves. âIâm justââ.
âJust standing there, looking all sweet and prettyâ, he interrupted, his tone playful. He straightened slightly, his height and presence towering over you as he leaned a little closer. âYou have no idea, do you? How hard you make it for me to keep my hands to myself?â.
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 didnât move closerâhe just stayed there, watching you, his smirk softening into something almost⌠curious.
Benâs smirk deepened as he watched you, his eyes narrowing slightly, like he was peeling back every layer of your defenses. âYou knowâ, he murmured, his voice soft but still carrying that teasing edge, âI think you actually like me, Peanutâ.
Your eyes widened at his words, and you shook your head quickly, your back pressing harder against the counter. âThatâs not trueâ, you said, your voice trembling with the effort to sound convincing.
But he didnât seem fazed. If anything, your reaction only amused him more. His hand darted out, slow and deliberate, resting gently on your hip. It wasnât forceful, wasnât threateningâit 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.
âYouâre not pushing me awayâ, 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. âThatâs gotta count for somethingâ.
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. âYou keep telling yourself youâre scared of meâ, he murmured, his tone quiet, almost tender. âBut I think youâre scared of something elseâ.
âBen, IâŚâ. Your voice cracked, and you trailed off, your hands clutching the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright.
âShhâ, he whispered, his hand on your hip shifting just slightly, his thumb brushing against the curve of your waist. âYou donât have to say anything, Peanut. Not if you donât want toâ.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was your uneven breathing, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the corner. His touch wasnât 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. âJust⌠Push me away if you want me to stop. Promise I won´t be madâ, 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 emotionsâfear, 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 didnât push him away. You stayed still, your breath hitching as Benâs smirk deepened. He took your silence as permissionâor 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 Benâs gaze dropped to it immediately, his lips curling into a wolfish grin.
âWell, would you look at thatâ, 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. âPeanut, youâve been holding out on meâ.
You squirmed, your hands gripping the edge of the counter as if it could anchor you against the storm of his presence. âBenâŚâ, you whispered, your voice trembling, unsure if it was a plea for him to stop or to keep going.
âShhâ, he said softly, his hands sliding higher, spreading your legs further apart. âI told you, Iâm not gonna hurt youâ.
But the way he looked at youâthe hunger in his eyes, the possessive way his hands claimed your bodyâmade 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.
âYou have no ideaâ, he whispered, his voice rough and thick with desire. âNo idea how hard itâs been. Watching you, waiting for you to stop running, stop hiding. But nowâŚâ. His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. âNow Iâve got you right where I want youâ.
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 shouldnât.
And Benâhe 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.
Benâs 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.
âYou knowâ, he murmured, his voice low and full of heat, âIâve been imagining this for weeks. But itâs even better than I thoughtâ.
You opened your mouth to respondâto say somethingâbut 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 didnât.
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 didnât hurt. It was more of a shockâboth 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.
âFuck peanutâ, he muttered, his voice rough with desire. âLook at youâ.
Benâs 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 smirkâcocky and unapologetically lewd.
âIs this what chicks are doing these days? All shaved, all fucking spotless?â. His thumb traced lazily along your inner thigh, teasing just close enough to make you squirm. âIn the â80s, everyone had a damn jungle down here. Didnât matter who you were, movie star or some chick at a dive barâhair everywhere. But this?â.
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. âThis is a whole fucking upgradeâ, he murmured, almost to himself, his tone filthy and raw. âSmooth as hell⌠fuck Peanut, youâre like a fucking dreamâ.
Benâs 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.
âFuck meâ, he muttered under his breath, his voice gravelly and thick with lust. âYouâre soaked, Peanut. Look at this. Look at youâ.
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.
âYouâre fucking perfectâ, he murmured, half to himself.
Benâs 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, âNo fucking way. Not with my fingers. Iâm not wasting this on anything but my dickâ.
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.
âYouâre something else, Peanutâ, he growled, his voice thick and unapologetically filthy. âThis body, this tight little hole⌠itâs all mineâ.
He grabbed the hem of your dress, tugging it upward with slow, deliberate movements, giving you every chance to stop him. But you didnât. 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.
âYouâre even better than I imaginedâ. 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.
âYou donât even realize, do you?â, he muttered, his hands trailing over your hips, your stomach, your thighs, like he couldnât get enough of touching you. âHow fucking perfect you are. How fucking lucky I amâ.
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he growled, âI told you, Peanut. Youâre mine now. Every inch of youâ.
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 himâhuge, 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 didnât budge.
Your heart raced, panic and uncertainty flooding your senses. You werenât a virgin, but this⌠this was different. The sheer size of him made your stomach twist with both fear and something else you didnât want to name.
âWhoa there, Peanutâ, 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. âScared already? Thought you said you werenât afraid of meâ.
âI justâŚâ, you stammered, your palms pressing harder against his chest, but he didnât move. He stood there, unyielding, his muscles firm under your touch as he watched you with that same maddening smirk.
âRelaxâ, 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. âThis⌠this wonât fit. No wayâ.
Benâs 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. âWonât fit, huh?â, he repeated, his tone dripping with amusement. âYou really think Iâd let that stop me?â.
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. âDonât sell yourself short, Peanut. Youâll take it. You just need a little⌠encouragementâ.
Your stomach twisted at his words, a mix of fear and heat flooding your senses. âBen, Iââ, you started, but he cut you off, his hands sliding slowly up your sides, strong and possessive.
âIâll make it fitâ, 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.
âJust.. relax, Peanutâ, he said softly, almost mockingly, as he positioned himself. âThis is gonna feel real good. Trust meâ.
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.
âFuckâ, he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on where your bodies touched. âYouâre already soaking for me. You feel that, Peanut? Thatâs your body telling you it wants this. Wants meâ.
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 movedâit 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. âLook at youâ, he muttered. âAlready whining, and I havenât even given you the real thing yetâ.
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.
âDonât hold back now, Peanut", he growled. âI want to hear every little sound you make. Wanna know how much youâre feeling thisâ.
The heat pooling low in your belly was unbearable, your body trembling as he continued his slow, torturous motions. He wasnât even inside you yet, but the weight of him was enough to leave you breathless.
Benâs 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.
âFuck, Peanutâ, he muttered under his breath, the usual arrogance in his tone giving way to something deeper, rougher. âTight as hell. I knew youâd feel good, but this? Fuckâ.
You winced at the stretch, your body instinctively tensing around him as he pushed in further. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and you couldnât help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.
âShhâ, he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing as he paused, letting you adjust. âI know, baby. Itâs a lot. But youâre doing good. So fucking goodâ.
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. âBenâ, you whispered, your voice trembling, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
âIâve got youâ, he said, his voice steady and firm, his thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin in a rare gesture of comfort. âYouâll get used to it. Just breatheâ.
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.
âThatâs itâ, he murmured, his lips quirking into a small smirk as he watched you. âSee? I told you youâd take it, Peanutâ.
You couldnât 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.
âYouâre doing so good, Peanutâ, he said, his voice low and almost gentle, though the hunger in his eyes hadnât faded. âJust a little more, and then Iâll make you feel real fucking good. I promiseâ.
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 couldnât suppress. The sound seemed to drive him wild.
âFuckâ, 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. âYou feel⌠Fuck, Peanut. Youâre so fucking tightâ.
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 didnât even know could feel like this.
âBenâ, you whispered, your voice shaky, unsure if you were pleading for him to move or to give you more time to adjust.
âI know, babyâ, he muttered, his voice gravelly and low, muffled against your skin. âI know. Just⌠fuck, just give me a secondâ. 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.
âYouâre perfectâ, 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. âFucking perfect. You donât even know what youâre doing to meâ.
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.
âBreathe, Peanutâ, he said, his voice softening for a moment as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your skin. âJust breathe. Youâre taking me so damn wellâ.
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.
âYeahâ, he growled, his voice thick as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. âYouâre gonna love this, Peanut. Iâll make sure of itâ.
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.
âShitâ, 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. âYouâre squeezing me so damn tight. Like you were fucking made for meâ.
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.
Benâs 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.
âPeanutâ, 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. âDonât you fucking hold back on meâ.
A soft whimper escaped you, and his smirk returned, wicked and dangerous. âThatâs more like itâ, he muttered, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he thrust again, harder this time. âI want to hear you. Every. Fucking. Soundâ.
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.
âCâmon, babyâ, he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear. âDonât be shy. I want to hear how much you love this. Want to hear you beg me for moreâ.
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.
âFuck, thatâs itâ, he growled, his teeth scraping against your neck as he buried himself to the hilt again. âThatâs the sound Iâve been waiting for. Knew you couldnât stay quiet foreverâ.
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.
âYou feel that?â, he muttered, his voice thick with satisfaction. âFeel how perfectly youâre taking me? That tight little body of yours was made for this, Peanut. Made for meâ.
You couldnât 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 himâit was too much, too overwhelming. And Benâhe soaked in every sound, every tremble, every gasp, his grin widening as he kept driving into you like he couldnât get enough.
âThatâs my girlâ, he murmured, his hands sliding up to cup your face as his eyes locked onto yours. âNow stop holding back and let me hear it allâ.
Ben could feel itâthe way your body tightened around him, your walls fluttering as you approached the edge. His pace didnât falter; if anything, it became sharper, more deliberate, each thrust angled perfectly to drive you closer to unraveling completely.
âYouâre close, arenât you, Peanut?â, he murmured. âI can feel it. Youâre squeezing me like you donât wanna let goâ.
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 wasnât about to let you hide from him.
âUh-uhâ, he said sharply, his hands gripping your hips harder as he slowed his thrusts just enough to regain your attention. âDonât you fucking look awayâ.
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.
âWhen you comeâ, he growled, his voice rough and commanding, âyou look at me, Peanut. Got it?â.
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 couldnât control.
âThatâs itâ, he muttered, his gaze locked on yours, unyielding. âThatâs my girl. Let me see it. Let me see you fall apart for meâ.
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.
âFuck, Peanutâ, he muttered, his voice strained as your walls gripped him like a vice. âYouâre so fucking perfect like thisâ.
Your body trembled as the waves of pleasure coursed through you, and even as you came undone beneath him, Ben didnât 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.
âFucking beautiful when you come. Told you Iâd make you love thisâ, he murmured, his smirk returning as he leaned in to brush his lips against your ear.
Ben wasnât close to being done with youânot 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.
âYouâre not done yet, Peanutâ, he murmured, his voice low and smug, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. âNot until Iâve had my fillâ.
You didnât 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 comeâhow 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 couldnât even think straight. Your breaths came in soft, shaky gasps, your cheek resting against his chest. Benâs hands moved to your back, stroking gently now, his touch grounding as you slowly came down from the overwhelming high.
âShhâ, he murmured, his voice softer now. âYouâre done, baby. Youâve earned your restâ.
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 didnât 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.
âGuess I wore you outâ, he muttered, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest as he shifted slightly to make you more comfortable. âCanât say I blame you, Peanut. You did goodâ.
You didnât respondâcouldnât respondâas 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 didnât press or tease. He just stayed there, holding you close, his gaze lingering on you with something almost resembling pride.
âââââââââââ
A/N: Please let me know what you think.đĽ°
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YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!)
đđ synopsis: hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.
contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing
word count: 2.0k
When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:
Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.
If sheâs busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.
Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.
You donât mind being busyâ youâre happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.
... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.
It might surprise people to know that youâre able to feel emotions as strong as hate. Youâre a naturally stoic person after all.
No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate â but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.
When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.
The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he standsâ heâs so gorgeous it makes you so mad.
Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.
Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.
You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiroâs mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.
âHey, itâs your turn.â Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.
Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. âOh no, Iâm gonna have to open my eyes for this.â
He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.
The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, thereâs a reason heâs the Vice Captain and youâre the Platoon Leader.
As a competitive person, you should be angry for losingâ but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?
âYouâre a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.â
The poker face you successfully maintained shouldâve given you a goddamn Grammy.
Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.
ââscuse me, coming through!â
The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.
Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes youâd let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? â not that heâd stop trying to get your attention.
Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.
Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.
âWhoops, wouldnât wanna get that in the soup.â
Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.
âE-excuse me.â You didnât give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.
âWait!â
Did he just hear a stutter?
You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.
He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.
âAARRGGGHH!!!â
Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if youâre okay. Because itâs the sound of your scream.
He doesnât have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.
Red-faced.
Heâs still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.
If Soshiro wasnât worried before, heâs definitely worried now.
You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. Youâd only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.
The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so heâs worried that youâre forcing yourself to work even though youâre sick.
âPlatoon Leader, come here for a sec.â
You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.
âPlatoon Leader, are you sick?â
âNo, sir.â
âExcuse me.â is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.
Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?
âW-what the-â Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. âIf thatâs all, Iâll take my leave.â
Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, heâs 101% sure that youâre sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?
Unless...
Youâre dreaming. Youâre dreaming. Youâre dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.
You have no clue where youâre walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person whoâs able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.
âHey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?â He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.
Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!
âI donât know! Maybe China!â
Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.
Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.
Heâs worried about you. Youâre about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.
Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly youâre able to gather your composure. Youâd rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.
He didnât hear you scream, did he?
Did he?
You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. Heâs smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.
âCan I test something?â
You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.
âWalk with me.â
You follow him, puzzled.
Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.
Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.
âWhat... why?â
There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.
He absolutely knows.
You break free and run for your life.
Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didnât mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.
Thatâs why heâs making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until youâre ready to trust him with all your emotions.
The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. Heâs about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state youâre in.
Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. Youâre clutching a giant pillow to your face.
âAAARRRRGGGMMMMâ Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow youâre burying your head into.
His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.
You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.
He clears his throat.
You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.
âVice Captain! Get out!â
Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.
âSo youâre really not sick? Just blushinâ around me?â
You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.
âOh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.â
Your eyes widen.
âHey, can I kiss ya?â
âWh-what?!â
âSorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?â
Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.
You didnât want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.
âOh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.â
You donât know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.
âW-wait,â you gasp meekly. Soshiroâs other hand is around your waist now. âIâve never kissed anyone before.â
Soshiro shivers in anticipation. âThatâs okay,â he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, âjust follow my lead.â And he presses his lips against yours.
Itâs so cute how shy you are, so much so that youâre trembling under his touch. Heâs pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.
You donât know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. Itâs embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.
You, whoâs usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under himâ
âI want to say that Iâll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.â Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.
Youâre sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. âWhatever. You wonât get another reaction out of me anyway.â
âIs that a challenge?â
After that, he tries to get your attention every time youâre in the same space as each other. Heâll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.
Of course, everyone knows heâs down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what heâs doing, like theyâre completely convinced you two are an item.
Well, you are.
But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, itâs getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when heâs around. Your reputation as the divisionâs most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?
Oh well. You win some, you lose some.
taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @vashyuu, @moon-cakiie, @17020, @eeiternity, @ryescapades
#maru writes...#kaiju no. 8#kn8#kaiju no. 8 x reader#kn8 x reader#kaiju no. 8 fluff#kn8 fluff#kn8 hoshina#hoshina soshiro#soshiro hoshina#hoshina soshiro x reader#soshiro hoshina x reader
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gender reveal! | JOE BURROWâš [006]
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MASTERLIST
⢠â đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ | 1.2k
⢠â đŹđŽđŚđŚđđŤđ˛ | you and joe's gender reveal! what will it be, a boy or a girl? regardless, joe is gonna spoil the hell out of it and his beautiful, glowing wife.
⢠â đ°đđŤđ§đ˘đ§đ đŹ | SO FREAKING FLUFFYYYY!! like so sweet, might give you diabetes! mentions of pregnancy and pretty sure nothing else
đđđ đđđđđđđ đđđ đđ đđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđđđđđđđ, the kind that buzzes under your skin and makes every second stretch a little longer. You and Joe stand side by side in your backyard, the quiet hum of cicadas and the soft glow of string lights overhead creating a cocoon of intimacy. Itâs just the two of youâno big party, no social media announcements, just you, him, and the tiny new life growing inside you. Exactly how you both wanted it.
On the patio table between you rests a modest cake, its white frosting smooth and unassuming. Inside, though, lies the answer to the question thatâs been playing on a loop in your minds for weeks. A boy or a girl? Joeâs hand is warm and steady against the small of your back, his thumb drawing lazy circles that do little to calm the nervous flutter in your chest.
âYou ready?â he asks, his voice low and familiar, the kind of tone that feels like home no matter where you are.
You nod, biting your lip. âAs ready as Iâll ever be.â
Joe grins, reaching for the knife. âAlright, here we go.â But before he can make the first cut, he pauses, looking at you with that playful sparkle in his eyes. âYou sure you donât want to do it?â
You roll your eyes, laughing softly. âNo way. Youâve been more impatient than me, and I didnât even think that was possible.â
He chuckles, shaking his head. âFair enough.â With a deep breath, he steadies the knife over the cake. Time feels like itâs moving in slow motion as he presses down, the blade slicing through the soft layers with a satisfying shhhk. The moment of truth is just a breath away, and yet it feels like the air has been knocked out of you.
âOkay, okay,â you whisper, your hand gripping his arm as he lifts the first slice.
And there it is. The blue inside is unmistakableâbright, bold, and bursting with meaning. You clap a hand over your mouth, your eyes immediately welling up as the reality of it sinks in. Joeâs reaction is instant; his face splits into the kind of smile that could rival the sun.
âItâs a boy,â His voice cracks slightly, and he stops, laughing at himself as he turns to you, his own eyes suspiciously glossy.
You nod, unable to form words through the tightness in your throat. You let out a shaky laugh, and thatâs all it takes for the tears to spill over.
âA boy,â Joe says softly, as if the words themselves might float away if he isnât careful. His grin grows impossibly wider, eyes shimmering in the warm light. âWeâre having a boy.â
You canât help but laugh through your tears, the sound bubbling up from a place of pure joy and disbelief. âMaisie called it,â you manage, wiping at your cheeks. âSheâs been saying âboyâ since the moment we told her. And Mom, tooâshe said she just knew.â
Joe lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âRemind me to never bet against either of them.â
You lean into his chest, your arms looping around his waist as you take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of himâclean linen and a hint of cedar. His heartbeat thrums steadily under your ear, grounding you in the moment.
âOur boy,â you whisper, the words tasting sweet on your tongue. âCan you believe it?â
Joe tilts his head down, his chin brushing the top of your head. âI can now,â he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. âAnd I can already see himârunning around the yard, throwing a football, stubborn as hell.â
You laugh, picturing it so clearly you almost feel the warmth of the sun on your face. âIf heâs anything like you, weâre in for a wild ride.â
âOh, heâll be worse,â Joe says with a playful smirk. âHeâll have your sass and my competitive streak. Weâre doomed.â
You swat at his chest, but the playful banter quickly dissolves into another wave of happy tears. Joe tightens his hold on you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both stand in silence, soaking in the enormity of the moment.
The cake sits forgotten on the table, a simple slice revealing the bright blue inside, as if the whole universe conspired to mark this occasion. Above you, the stars are just starting to peek through the twilight, tiny pinpricks of light against a deepening sky.
âI canât wait to meet him,â Joe says softly, breaking the silence. His voice is filled with a quiet reverence, the kind reserved for lifeâs biggest, most beautiful moments.
You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes meeting his. âMe neither,â you say, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. âBut I already know one thing.â
âWhatâs that?â he asks, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
You smile, your gaze unwavering. âHeâs going to have the best dad in the world.â
Joeâs face softens, his eyes shining with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. âAnd the best mom,â he whispers, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulls you back into his arms.
The world feels quiet, still, and full of promise. In this moment, under the string lights and a canopy of stars, you know that youâre ready for whatever comes next. Together.
Over the next few weeks, your home begins to transform. Boxes start arriving at your doorstep daily, each one containing something more extravagant than the last. A designer stroller with gold accents, a baby-sized leather jacket that looks like it belongs on a runway, and tiny sneakers in every color and style imaginable.
One afternoon, Joe bursts through the front door carrying a box nearly as big as he is. âBaby! Check this out!â he calls, setting it down in the living room.
You follow the sound of his voice, curious. âWhat now?â
He opens the box with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning, pulling out a baby swing that looks like it was designed for royalty. Itâs covered in plush fabric, with a built-in sound system and a gentle rocking mechanism that mimics a motherâs heartbeat.
âItâs top-of-the-line,â Joe says, his eyes sparkling. âSupposed to be the next best thing to being in your arms.â
You shake your head, laughing. âJoe, heâs going to be sleeping in our room for the first few months. Are you planning to keep all this in there too?â
He shrugs, unbothered. âWhy not? I want him to have options.â
It doesnât stop there. Every time you turn around, Joe has another surpriseâwhether itâs a thoughtful gift for you, like a new pair of comfy maternity jeans or a stack of your favorite books, or something for the baby, like a custom onesie with âDaddyâs MVPâ printed on it.
But what touches you the most are the little things he does without fanfare. The nights he spends assembling furniture, carefully following instructions even when they donât make sense. The way he starts humming lullabies under his breath while doing the dishes.
One evening, as youâre curled up together on the couch, you rest your hand on your belly, feeling the baby kick. Joe places his hand over yours, his face lighting up when he feels it too.
âHeâs already got a strong leg,â Joe says, his voice filled with pride. âMight be a future quarterback.â
You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. âOr maybe a doctor. Or an artist. Whatever he wants to be.â
Joe nods, his expression softening. âAs long as heâs happy, thatâs all that matters.â
âł make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
âł thank you for reading all the way through, as always âĄ
#nfl imagine#nfl lb#nfl players#nfl football#joe burrow#joe burrow bengals#bengals#joeyb#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow smut#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x oc#nfl fic
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Billieâs friends making fun of little gf reader making her cry but she doesnât tell Billie until one day she overhears what her friends are sayingđ
Bullies
Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader
Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, Billieâs friends being mean, bullying, Billie getting angry but not at reader
Billieâs new friends were coming over today and you were not excited whatsoever. They made fun of you and your age regression which obviously made you sad and cry. Billie didnât know about any of this happening and you didnât plan to. Even though they were being mean and making you cry, you didnât want billie getting mad at you for thinking you were lying to her or maybe she would agree with them and leave you.
You were overthinking every possibility and it all ended badly so you decided to keep your mouth shut and just let them say whatever. You were playing in the living room when they came piling up in the house with Billie laughing behind them. âIâll get us some snacks and drinks. Do you want anything babygirl?â Billie asked you with a smile. âM-mys juice pwease mamaâŚâ you said quietly as you didnât wanna talk in front of her friends. âGood girl for using your words! Iâll be right back.â She said happily as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving you alone with her friends that were giving you smirks.
âAwwww your mommy gonna give you some juice?â One of them said in a high pitched voice making you whimper under your breath. âYeah, I bet it will be in a little sippy cup.â Another one chimed in as they all started to laugh and point at you making you turn your head to ignore them. âHey! Didnât your precious mommy tell you not to ignore people when they are talking to you, inconsiderate bitch.â One of them snarled at you and you quickly looked up to see them all smirking at you. âI donât know why Billie is even with you, if I was her, I would spit in your face and leave immediately. Youâre such a freak.â One spat out and you felt yourself sobbing in the middle of the living room with them laughing at you.
âCall her a freak again and see if I donât come over and kick yâallâs asses.â Billie said sternly as she comes into the living room with your sippy in one hand and snacks in the other. âMommy!â You gasped in surprise but she didnât look your way just yet, not wanting to scare you with the look on her face. âGet the fuck out of my house right now.â Billie said coldly as she sets down the snacks and your sippy cup on the nearest desk that was near her and she walks over to you. Billie stands in front of you as her old friends all get up, them getting scared as Billie looks like she was gonna kill them. âB-Billie I promise it was all a joke. Right y/n?â One of them said and they gave you eyes that said âyou better not fucking rat us outâ but you shook your head instead, then they started glaring at you which made billie more pissed.
âYou guys are fucking pathetic. You guys know I trusted yâall with this and you guys seemed so understanding about it. Now I can clearly see that yâall are not and you had the balls to make fun of my girlfriend AND make her cry. Leave my house and never fucking come here and contact me again.â Billie spat out and they all rolled their eyes and left the house, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie looked down and saw your tear stained face and she immediately lifted you up in her arms. âItâs okay babygirl. Mama is here now.â Billie said quietly as she holds you close to her as you clung onto her like a koala. âYou wonât have to see them ever again.â She reassured you and you nodded your head against her chest. âHow long has this been happening sweet girl?â Billie asked you gently and you shyly hid in the crook of her neck.
Billie frowned and rubbed your back âitâs okay baby. Iâm not gonna get mad at you. You can trust mama.â She said and you shifted and looked up at her with sad eyes. âE-evers since w-wes tolds dems a-abouts I-itâsâŚâ you stuttered and you felt Billie hold her breath in. âThat was a four months ago babyâŚwhy didnât you tell mama?â She gasped quietly and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. âS-scaredâŚNu wan chu to lose chu friends.â You said and Billie leaned down to give you a long kiss on your forehead. âBabygirl. I donât wanna be friends with people who make fun of you and make you cry, you understand me?â She said looking in your eyes and you nodded your head slowly. âThatâs my good girl. Now. Do you wanna sit and watch some cartoons with mommy?â She said happily and your face beamed up at her. âWes Pweasie mommy!â You bounced in her arms which caused her to laugh. She carried you over where she placed down your juice and snacks and gave you your sippy. You immediately grabbed it and thanked her as you started sipping on it happily. Billie carried you back into the living room where she sat on the couch, with you still in her arms. She grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite movies and you leaned back into her while drinking your juice. As you watched, Billie was looking down at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes. No one was gonna mess with her baby ever again when sheâs around.
A/n: hey guys! Glad to be back, gonna try and post more and get out all these requests so I can get prepared for Christmas so Iâm excited. Thank you for the request anon and I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love yâall! :)
#billie eilish imagine#billie#billie eilish blurb#billie eilish fic#billie eilish oneshot#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#eilish#billie eilish#caregiver!billie eilish#caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader#mommy!billieeilish#mommy!billie eilish x reader#mommy!billie eilish x little!reader#daddy!billie eilish#sfw little post#mommy sfw#sfw agere#sfw#sfw regression#sfw little community#sfw littlespace#sfw little blog#sfw interaction only#sfw caregiver#wlw sfw#safe agere
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This is a huge cop out in two very specific and obvious ways.
One, the media kept showing him so that his charisma could work on swing voters even though the way to deal with firehosing propaganda is to turn off the spigot. And it really is the media at large, a few legacy publications would MOSTLY stand against him but there was way too much of how the legacy media treats republicans before and now; âwell of course theyâre gonna do this, letâs rag on everyone and everything that hasnât immediately fixed the problem.â
That last part gets into point two; the media from the written legacy news outlets to the even worse televised outfits (from local to msnbc and cnn) all had badly misinformed the public by doing piss poor journalism for decades. Itâs no wonder that people canât stomach thin pieces not in depth investigative reporting when the news feeds a steady stream of skewed reality with âbleeds it readsâ and âletâs just make false equivocation our central model cause reporting is apparently just doing poor polling methodology.â Before you even get to the ways editors and producers bent reporting away from informing people on real solutions on how the world really is with police, labor, healthcare, taxes, etc, you have to contend with the fact that the people hired to the top papers and every news desk were hired because they see value in piss port approaches to journalism. They see value in âboff sides!â everything because chasing the impossible âfree of biasâ as a personal goal eclipses the professional and institutional primary objective of âinform.â If Iâm focusing on the wrong things Iâm not building an actual approximation of the reality Iâm hoping to convey.
Now add to this that most people donât tune into news in the same way most people donât floss. So every âbut her emails!â every âDonald became presidential today!â every âwe could cover all Bidenâs progressive policies and their downstream impacts if itâs more fun to wildly speculate about his health!â has repercussions when itâs most likely one of the only news pieces tens of millions of adults in this country tune into. âThis is a threat to democracy!â rings hollow to they engaged when everything about how the news media is operating is the exact same as 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 20, etc.
We got here because republicans have overall won the last 40-50 years. From real integration barely ever happening to schools getting worse from conservative policy making every decade to work and organizing getting worse and less, to news outlets phoning it in and patting themselves on the back as if the ten percent of times they actually try at all fixes when they donât or that it matters when their whole core idea of their job is flawed in such a crucial way⌠we got here because conservatives understood that you can lose certain battles but you win wars by digging in on certain ones until they go your way. We have had some policy gains but the central premise since Reagan has been to make us less of a democracy and make government more conservative in other ways too. They e always had that. And the press being out to lunch and/or in bed with this agenda is part of how we got here.
Of course this is partially the pressâs fault! Yâall couldnât handle the machinations of the neo conâs decades ago you canât handle the apotheosis of that which is Trump.
Lastly, the âmost Americansâ thing ainât true. Trump got barely more voters than last time, the same is true for most other races republicans won. But way fewer white middle to upper income people from 30-50 voted at all this election compared to 2020. Our country is getting shafted now because a lot of smaller demographics make up the majority that is most voters being non conservatives while conservatives have fewer demographics making up their coalition AND institutional advantages. One of which is a media that has become an easy plaything for conservatives from Rove to Musk and Rogan. Do better journalists at elite institutions
#politics#Elite institutions of journalism#Were a part of the problem#And have been my whole life#Fear sometimes is why#But ethical and professional laziness combined with like hiring like is the main issue#So donât sit their and act like Trump has super powers#When people been saying the solution is to takeaway his microphone#And also to actually start goddamn knowledge making!#Segments on how to change the system to be more democratic#Long running continuous coverage of how to fix shit and why it is the way it is#Instead we get that once in a blue moon with half to more of the time being crime baiting and race baiting#The equivalent of junk science always getting the spotlight in a journal#And then yâall scratch your heads at the continued fascistic racist and other ist sympathizing growing and maintaining#Canât be cause of how yâall are covering things! Oh no!#And if what Iâve said seemed impossible to you to pull of at your paper or news station#Well now youâre actually facing the problem#Try to fix it now#Instead of slamming the people with less power/influence than yourself#Put some shit actually on the line career wise to fix shit!
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The Misconception of Fandom and Saying Jiang Cheng is a "Good Uncle" and Jin Ling's Initiative to Begin Thinking for Himself
1. Jiang Cheng does not care to exhibit good ethics for Jin Ling and is the one to have set up nets, threatens and intimidates to impede fellow hunters at Dafan Mountain just so Jin Ling can "win":
He didnât expect the journey to be this unlucky. Originally, he came to help Jin Ling out. Jin Ling would be turning fifteen this year, the age of which he should already be making his debut and starting to compete with the juniors of other clans. Jiang Cheng considered the decision carefully before choosing Dafan Mountain as the location of the hunt. He also set up nets everywhere and threatened the cultivators of other clans, showing them the consequences so that they would retreat, in order to let Jin Ling take the top prize without anyone fighting against him.
Although four hundred deity-binding nets were a whopping price, it wasnât too much for the YunmengJiang Sect. Nonetheless, losing the nets were a small matter, but losing face was not. With Lan WangJiâs actions, Jiang Cheng felt a whirlpool of anger at the bottom of his heart, rising higher by every second. He narrowed his eyes, his left hand casually stroking the ring on his right handâs index finger.
(ExR)
2. Jiang Cheng does give Jin Ling ultimatums to curry his favor just as Madam Yu did with him with impossible expectations:
Why are you still standing there? Waiting for the prey to come and throw itself onto your sword? If, today, you donât catch the creature hunting Dafan Mountain, donât come to me ever again!â
(ExR)
3.Jin Ling was never shown affection by Jiang Cheng and never described in softer terms by Jin Ling and is noted in novel to show any goodwill and what "happiness" he expresses is violent:
Jin Ling stood on the side, seeming as if he wanted to say a few things, but was too shocked to do so. Jiang Cheng glowered at him, âIâll take care of you later. Stay here!â
From the beginning of his memory until now, Jin Ling had never seen such a look on Jiang Chengâs face before: This uncle of his who led the prominent YunmengJiang Sect ever since a young age had always been cold and dark. When he spoke, he was willing to neither show mercy nor do good. Yet, right now, although he was trying hard to suppress unnecessary facial expressions, his eyes were alarmingly intense.
Although his face had always been clouded, marked with arrogance and satire, it seemed as if every corner of it had come alive. It was difficult to determine whether it was vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy.
(ExR)
4. Jiang Cheng has no positive interest in Fairy other than to use a dog to emotionally distress Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling himself is hesitant about this until he is intimidated by Jiang Cheng:
Jiang Cheng added, âLend me your dog.â
Jin Ling pulled himself out of the daze. He hesitated for a moment and only whistled after Jiang Cheng shot him two lightning-sharp beams from his eyes. The dog dashed over in just a few leaps. Wei WuXian, body as stiff as an iron board, could only be dragged forward, walking one step at a time.
(ExR)
5: Jin Ling is aware of Jiang Cheng torturing and killing people based on his paranoia and proceeds to help Wei Wuxian escape due to his own dislike of needless killings beginning to show, regardless of his opinion on "Mo Xuanyu":
Jin Ling, âItâs not the first time my uncle did such a thing. He has never let any of them go, even if it was possible that he caught the wrong ones. But, if Zidian couldnât draw out your spirit, Iâm just gonna trust that youâre not.
(ExR)
6. Due to his involvement with letting Wei Wuxian escape Jin Ling is pulled into the case of Yi City when he was traveling alone to Lanling Jin, and to the safety of his other Uncle as he knew Jiang Cheng would be volatile and didn't want to be faced alone with him at any point and relies on Jin Guanyao's reputation of being kjown for conflict management to deter Jiang Cheng's attentions:
Jin Ling followed Jin GuangYao out here. He still didnât dare meet Jiang Cheng alone. Hiding behind Jin GuangYaoâs back, he mumbled, âUncle.â
Jiang Cheng replied harshly, âSo you still know that Iâm your uncle!â
Jin Ling quickly tugged at the back hems of Jin GuangYaoâs robe. Jin GuangYao seemed as though he had been born to resolve conflicts, âNow, Sect Leader Jiang, A-Ling realized his mistake a long time ago. During the past few days, heâs been so scared youâd punish him that he hasnât even been eating well. Children just like to make mischief. I know you love him the most. Letâs not bother him about it so much.â
(ExR)
7. Again, Jiang Cheng does not show active care for Jin Ling, who wants confirmation that he is cared for when the threat of corpses is on them during the second siege of the Burial Mounds:
A few sect leaders clutched onto their sons, cautioning them, âWhen the corpses rush inside all at once, protect yourself and try to get out. Stay alive no matter what! You understand?!â
As Jin Ling heard this, he felt himself cringe, but somewhere deep down he hoped that his uncle would say something similar as well. He waited for a while, but nothing came from Jiang Cheng, so he couldnât help but glare at him. He glared for too long, and Jiang Cheng finally turned to him.
He seemed a bit less gloomy, but he frowned,
"Whatâs wrong with your eyes?â
ââŚâ Jin Ling was quite annoyed, âNothing!â
8. Which then extends to Jin Ling joining the other juniors, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji in fending off corpses, despite Jiang Cheng trying to hand him Zidian, Jin Ling takes the initiative to protect not only himself but the others desperate to survive the attack at the front of the cave:
1.
Jin Ling had never seen so many fierce corpses before, much less at such a close distance. He could feel his scalp tingle, clenching the sword hilt of Suihua. Yet, suddenly, his fist was peeled open, and a cold object was stuffed inside. He looked down in surprise, âUncle?â
Jiang Cheng propped himself up with Sandu, which had lost its spiritual energy. His figure wavered slightly, "Try losing Zidian and see what happens!â
2.
Lan SiZhui was wielding his blade swiftly when he heard a loud clang from behind him. Somebody blocked an attack that came for his back.
Lan SiZhui exclaimed, âYoung Master Jin, why are you here too?â
When Jin Ling saw that all of the people around his age had rushed over, he couldnât hold himself back either. When Jiang Cheng was unaware, he stuffed Zidianâs ring back into his hand and sprinted toward the crowd, all the way up to the most dangerous area before the mouth of the cave.
The most attentive Jiang Cheng can be said to be is when he leads Jin Ling into their boat cabin, yet what he says is only another veiled insult to a child in retaliation and potentially veiled threats:
Jiang Cheng lowered his chin slightly, âSect Leader OuYang.â
Having been named, Sect Leader OuYang could feel his eyelids throb the way his heart did. He heard Jiang Cheng icily continue, âIf I remember correctly, the one who spoke is your son, isnât he? He sure has a silver tongue.â
Sect Leader OuYang hurried, âZiZhen! Come back, come over to Dad!â
OuYang ZiZhen was confused, âDad, werenât you the one who told me to get on this boat so that I didnât annoy you guys?â
Sect Leader OuYang wiped at a few beads of sweat, âEnough! Havenât you shown off enough times today? Come here right now!â His sect was located at Baling, close to Yunmeng but incomparable in power. Naturally, he didnât want Jiang Cheng to bear a grudge against his son just because he spoke up a couple of times for Wei WuXian.
Jiang Cheng glared at Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi one last time before he returned to the cabin, arm wrapped around Jin Lingâs shoulders. Sect Leader OuYang sighed in relief.
(ExR)
This later all culminates to Jin Ling yelling at Jiang Cheng for chasing off Wei Wuxian once again and leads Jin Ling to try finding Wei Wuxian to speak with him once more leading to Guanyin Temple's confrontation and Jin Ling in the difficult position of turmoil of hate but not wanting to act upon the violence that has been instilled as righteously just to exhibit because it does not make him feel any better or avenged, and ironically is made to learn the lesson Wei Wuxian, learned from Wen Qing of the family hated of the Jianghu, had first told him when he had saved him from Jiang Cheng's torture:
Wei WuXian put his hands behind his back and walked over, âYoung man, there are two cringe worthy phrases in oneâs life that must be said, no matter what.â
Jin Ling asked, âWhich two?â
Wei WuXian replied, ââThank youâ, and âIâm sorryâ.â
(ExR)
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Do I know you?
Jason Todd X Reader
Synopsis: In the aftermath of a brief Kidnapping, Red Hood seems to think your important and wont stop hanging around your apartment.
Or in other terms, Jason got scared you were gonna die and doesnât want to leave you alone
Notes: Reader is a waitress at a local bookstore/coffee shop that Jason frequents and he has grown very fond of her. They are vague acquaintances And she does not know that Jason is Red Hood. This is literally my first-ever attempt at a fanfic and Jason Todd has been rattling around in my brain. I might attempt to make this like a short series or something. Anyway, I hope it's enjoyed!!
âI think I have a new favorite stalker,â you say loudly out your open window.
 Keeping your window open in Gotham was probably the worst idea you could ever have but your curiosity got the better of you when started to notice the fleeting red hanging out across the street and occasionally on your fire escape over the past two weeks. At first you were worried considering your recent encounter with Scarecrow as an attempted research rat.
However, the longer the red stayed near the easier it became to recognize. His helmet was shiny, which is what made it so easy to spot him. How that was helpful to a vigilante you didnât know. Red hood was watching you and you had a feeling it was to make sure you were okay. You had heard of other bats checking on Civilians after traumatic incidents when they could, but every night for two weeks seems a bit excessive and he hasnât actually talked to you. So what was he doing?
With no response to your jab, you lean out your window and repeat yourself, making a point to stare at the red helmet on the building across the street.
âI said I think I have a new favorite stalker!â You continue to stare him down.
Even in the minimal street lighting you can see his body tense, ready to run.
âMaybe heâd like to chat?â you tilt your head in questioning. You donât why you asked. You were bad at keeping a regular conversation. If he came over and did, in fact, decide to chat, it might end up a short conversation.Â
A clattered thud pulls you from your thoughts and you gaze turns from the opposite roof top to the very large man now standing on your fire escape next to your window. You canât help but stare at him. 6â something and built like a brick wall. Intimidating even leaning against the building.
Was he this big when he saved me?
âHi?â is the only response you could muster. The urge to slam the window closed and shut your curtains itches at your finger tips. He stares at you, or at least you assume as much, the helmets white eyes giving away nothing. No wonder people were terrified of Red Hood. You havenât even done anything wrong and you could wet yourself right here and now.
âHiâ You donât know why your shocked to hear the modulated voice. He had talked to when he saved you from Scarecrow but it was still strange to hear. Slightly robotic but definitely a person underneath.
You realize that, maybe, youâve been staring for too long.
âTea?â you back away from the window and head for the kitchen expecting him to follow, as well as taking a moment to breath.
You just invited a good/bad vigilante into your home! What is wrong with you? Â Your mind is a swirling, anxious debate as you fill your kettle.
âI only have Green tea, I hope you donât mind.â you yell from the kitchen, unsure if he was even in the apartment.
âNot at allâ His voice is close then you anticipated, assuming he stay close to the window.
Instead you turn to find him sitting comfortably at your dining room table, watching you move about the kitchen. He looks out of place in your soft warm toned home. His brown leather jacket the only thing that could blend in. The harsh red bat on his chest sticking out like a sore thumb. Your gaze lingers a moment at the holsters on his thighs, suddenly realizing that if he wanted to do something to you, you were screwed. You turn back to your cabinets and pull out a couple of mugs, pushing away the thoughts. Red Hood was good guy, despite what previous attempts at bad he had in the past. You stand at the counter and stare at your kettle, willing it to heat faster. After a moment, You hear a distorted sigh.
âYou wanted to talk?â Red Hood asks
You shrug your shoulders without turning, not entirely prepared for a conversation just yet. Red Hood doesnât push you. The kettle begins to whistle, and you pour the two mugs, settling tea bags into them. You pick them up and set one in front of red hood, and settle into the seat opposite his, blowing on your tea. You take a sip and promptly burn your tongue, hissing in pain.
âitâs hotâ
Your eyes fly up to Red Hood. You choke out a thanks, Having not realized he had taken off his Helmet. You let eye linger across his face, very handsome. A scar on his lips, that rests in a smirk, and another across his cheek. As you eye move up you let out a startled laugh, Another mask keeps his eyes hidden.
âWhat?â He asks, The smirk on his lips grows.
As your laughing fit slows, you pause to breath.
âYou wear two masks.â You pause waiting for him to laugh. All he does is furrow his brows.
âitâs funnyâ you insist but he doesnât respond. You settle down again. Well as much as you can considering the man in front of you, staring at your mug, slightly embarrassed
âSo Iâm your favorite stalker? You got a few?â Red's voice rings out in the silence. Itâs rough and deep, like heâd been yelling.
A flush creeps up your face. If you were embarrassed before, you were definitely embarrassed now. It had taken you all day to come up with the throw away comment. You thought It was funny. You also didnât think you would get this far in your interaction with Red Hood.
âNot really, just the one I hopeâ you chance a glance at him to find him still unsettlingly staring at you as a he takes a sip of his tea, now cooled. Your mind searches for what else to say.
âThatâs good, I wouldnât want that eitherâ Jason finally breaks eye contact with you, looking around your apartment.
With his stare no longer on you, you take the opportunity to really take him in. Despite the scars on his face, there was kindness there. And despite his intimidating stature, he seemed to pull himself in, like he was afraid to take up space. His forearms exposed through his suit. What a weird design. Not that you were complaining. Overall, Red Hood was hot. You flush at the thought.
âThank you, by the wayâ you rush out, âfor saving me⌠it really means a lotâ
Jason turns his gaze back to you. You brave up and hold his stare. Suddenly thinking, he looks familiar. You furrow your brows for a moment.
âDo I know you?â You ask before you can stop yourself. You physically cringe and try to back track.
âI mean, obviously I know you, you saved my life and all but I mean like I know your face? Maybe, not that it matters. Course you wouldnât tell me if I did know your civilian identity because then it wouldnât be a secret. I just think I know your face but that doesnât mean that I want you to tell me. And maybe you just have one of those facesâŚâ you continue to ramble some more. Jason watches you carefully and finishes his tea. You pause to breath in your rant and he jumps in.
âThanks for the teaâ he grabs his Helmet, sliding it on before continuing, voice changed, âand your welcome, for saving you.â
You watches as he walks back toward the window, frozen and unsure what to do. As climbs out onto the fire escape you yell out.
âYour welcome and you donât have to hide outside, you can come in next time.â
Heâs gone before even finish the sentence. You sink back in your chair.
What is wrong with you? Why are you so awkward? That was terrible!
You try to push the interaction from your mind as you close the window and go about spot cleaning your apartment. Once done your anxious thoughts return.
This is going to be a long night. You think as you turn into bed.
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Hazard x Reader - You little Gommy
first tumblr post!!! need more fics of him omg pls 1.1k words fluff!! sorry scotland if i fucked up ur language - The quiet atmosphere was deafening, a place usually so full of laughter and talking, suddenly turned to the complete opposite. Everyone in the gang had left to steal a high tech weapon from the Oasis. Well, everyone but her. She stared at the ceiling, the bed creaking a little bit as she moved. Her eyes wandered across the whole room, going through every little detail as if she had never been there before. Boredom can really make a person mad huh? Her eyes looked through the photos they had taken together as a family. Some of them only have certain people and so on. Her eyes lingered on the picture of her and Findlay, well he is better known as Hazard. She slowly got up from the bed, walking towards the counter and staring at the holographic picture. In the picture they both stared at the camera smiling widely as he held it up, she remembered when they took this photo. It took him so long to figure out how to press one button and she couldnât stop laughing at him. Such a small thing had such a big impact on her memories. She couldnât help but let a small smile form on her face as she remembered A sudden sharp pain however had that smile wipe away. She let out a loud groan, her hand immediately flying to hold her side. Oh right, she had gotten hurt during action in their last mission. A guard sneaked up to her and landed a very mean punch to her side, bruising the whole side. Yeah the guard had some sort of knuckle braces or something, was a hard hit anyway. She could remember being so scared that her ribs had been busted, or that the braces had gone deep into her skin, good thing it was none of that. Ribs just got bruised a lot, very painful. She cursed to herself as she tried heading back to bed, only for the pain to strike her back two times worse now. She could only stand still, holding her side, even if touching it wasnât the best idea either. She leaned on the counter, keeping her balance, waiting for the stronger pain to pass. It was at that moment she heard the faint muffled noise of an engine coming closer and closer. It must be the gang! FUCK! They couldnât see her out of the bed, she tried to walk forward, pushing through the pain. The quick movements made everything worse, one bad move caused her to twist in a bad way and she fell down onto her knees, fighting against her angry tears. She felt so fucking useless like this. She heard the heavy door to their hideout open, bringing with it loud laughter and quick chatter. One of the voices really stood out to her, Hazard. âWe really tore tha' place down ay?!â He laughed, his heavy Scottish accent so intoxicating to her. âYou really scared us there for a moment champ.â BoomSlang said, shaking her head as if disappointed even though a smile rested on her face. âAh! You wouldaâ done the same if you were in my place.â He chuckled, giving her back a few pats before walking past all of them. ââRight. I'm gonna head to bed, donât do ânothin stupid without me!â He waved his hand before disappearing down the hall Hazard walked further from the laughter and chatter of his friends, his steps confident and full of energy. His mind was racing, thinking about everything that happened today. One thing he knows for sure though is that he feels fucking awesome and that he cannot wait to embrace his little darling.
He neared his room and as he finally stopped in front of the door he listened for a moment. Considering there was light coming from the small crack below the door and if she was doing something, but he couldnât hear anything, perhaps she was still sleeping and recovering. He smiled to himself, opening the door slowly. He was not expecting to see her on the floor on her knees holding her side, trying to lift herself up. âWhaddaâ ya doin bonny??!â He said a bit urgently, rushing to her side. âIâm sorry Layâ... I just don't know. I was looking at the pictures, completely forgetting my predicament.â She sighed, looking up at him. âYou little gommy. Letâs get ya back to bad âright?â He said softly, carefully maneuvering his cybernetic arms to not hurt her. âThank you..â She mumbled, accepting his gentle help. Once he had her safely tucked under the covers he sat down on the side of the bed, the mattress sinking a bit under her weight. He turned his head over his shoulder, staring at her. She stared back, captivated by his pretty eyes, her cheeks burning up a bit. He chuckled, turning himself around a bit more, so that his whole upper body was now in her line of sight. âAye.. ya know you can always ask for help right?â He smiled at her, using his left hand to caress her cheek lovingly. âJust donât wanna be a bother to youâŚâ She mumbled, leaning her head into his palm. âYou could nevaâ bother me ya numpty. I love you after all donât i?â He chuckled. She blushed at his words, she had been together with him long enough to figure out some of the slang he used when referring to her or other people. Right now he called her a lovable moron, some people could get offended but they loved lovingly insulting each other, just part of their love language really.
âAlright, you get some sleep yeah? Otherwise yer gonna miss that beauty sleep of yous.â Hazard said, about to get up from the bed to give her some alone time, only to be stopped by a hand quickly latching onto his wrist. She winched a little bit at the sudden movement again, but nothing was going to stop her from speaking her mind. âWait, please. Could you.. stay with me hun..? I just.. I don't wanna sleep alone, and I need your company..â She asked quietly.
âYou know I could nevaâ say no to you.â He slowly and carefully climbed into the bed, thankful he had switched out his gun for his other cybernetic arm so that it would be less uncomfortable for her to sleep on. She smiled at him, and snuggled up beside him, his body a walking furnace, she felt so safe and warm beside him. He stared down at her, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her nerves. She looked up at him and motioned for him to lean down a bit which he did. Her lips slowly landed on his, giving him a long kiss goodnight. âSleep well lassie.â âYou too dummy.â - I TRIED!!! Please hazard lovers request stories so i stay motivated
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in all honesty, higurumaâs job was hard. fighting for the innocent, the wrongly accused and those people had done nothing wrong yet were locked away from no reason, was hard. well, at the end of the day â thatâs his job and thereâs not much he can do about it so heâll just have to suck it up and deal with it. but hey, justice for all those people, at least that helps a little.
and obviously as his wife, you were patient with him, always ran him hot baths after a shit ton of stressful ass work was on his plate, cook him lavish and delicious dinners. anythinâ to make him de-stress and feel at peace after work â thatâs the best type of dopamine one could ask for, honestly ( your tight cunt around his stiff hard cock is equivalent to that as well ). and of course he appreciated you for that. he always does ! each granted time. what more could he ask for in a wife? and plus, it was super super worth it coming home to your praise about his nose â not gonna lie. heâd been a little insecure about it until he met you, though.
but lately at work, heâs kindaa been slacking⌠just a tiny bit. always thinking about you ( lustfully ) at work, the pure thought of you pops up randomly in his head every single second of the day â no matter what the occasion or situation may be. youâre on his mind 25 / 8 .
he might be a hot n tired lawyer, but fuck you make him act up crazy. how the hell can he go up to the stand with a boner ? a painful boner. i mean, yeah, no one can see it, but still ! thatâs directly embarrassing⌠like⌠what the hell is the judge gonna think ? âis mr.hiromi hard over a divorce case..?â weird shit.
and as soon as he finished the trial ( of course he did win ), he left and went straight home to you. it kinda hit him like a slap in the face: your guyâs sex life wasnt sexing⌠you know ? heâs been busy with a shit ton of work, so it makes sense. but heâs so desperate for you right now, the tension is almost palpable .
as soon as he enters the house, shoes kicked off, briefcase set down, stormed upstairs immediately. âyou-â heâs taken aback by your finger booping his nose and immediate praise of his hard work nd nose, too. âyes.. thank you,â he hugs you, his boner rubbing against your clothed cunt. He feels so lovesick int his moment, kinda dizzy ând drunk without the booze or whatever.. that high sensation of euphoria and dopamine rushing through his body like a crack fein. why do you make him feel like this? what kinda effect, spell â fucking curse do you put on him to make him feel this way? but in other words, heâs gonna make you deal with the consequences anyways because of that. >:(
ââm gonna go reall slow, princess.â higurumaâs hands stayed put onto your hips, completely ignoring the fact that you were a blabbering nd drooling flushed-face mess in his hands. his tongue thrusted in and out of your soaking cunt excruciatingly slow and teasing. ââm not gonna die, donât be shy,â his nose accidentally nuzzles into your pussy, and the most vocal moan comes out of your mouth. oops.
your hands were scratching at his chest while you choked the man with your pussy. it fucking hit him right then ân there; he wanted to fucking live in your pussy. breathe her, eat herâ all that shit. pussy so good, it could fucking kill someone. âyeahh, needy fâme, aintâcha?â he moaned into your pretty pink folds, eyes damn near rolling into the back of his skull. âssshitt, b-babyâŚâ he spits into your cum ân saliva filled cunt and nuzzles his nose into the warmth of your womb. you just really love his nose that much, huh?
#âšâ Ë⧠deathanniversaryworks#jjk fanfic#jjk smut#jjk x reader#higuruma hiromi#jjk higuruma#higuruma x reader#higuruma fanart#âšâ Ëâ§writing#âšâ Ëhigurumas nose is soo#smut#jjk#jjk x you#âšâ Ëwhat did doja say bout them big noses ? they good to sit on ! !
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Shell of Trust *â .â â§
The night was quieter than usual, the streets below empty and shadowed by the glow of dim streetlights. Raphael leaned against the rooftop ledge, his arms crossed, glaring down at the sidewalk as though it had personally offended him.
"Why do you look like someone stole your bike?" Mikey's voice rang out, far too chipper for this late hour.
Raph grunted. "I'm not mad, Mikey. Just⌠thinkinâ."
Mikey leaned back on the ledge, munching on a slice of pizza he'd somehow managed to bring on patrol. "Thinking about her, arenât ya?"
Raphâs head whipped toward him, a growl forming in his throat. "Whatâre you talkinâ about?"
"You know! April's bestieâyou totally like her." Mikey grinned, unbothered by the death glare Raph was giving him.
Raph didnât bother denying it. You were on his mind more than he cared to admit. You were sweet but kept your walls up, even with him. The others chalked it up to you being shy, but Raph knew better. Heâd seen the way your smile faltered when certain topics came up, the way you avoided having them over to your place, how youâd change the subject when anything personal was mentioned.
âWhatever,â he muttered, pushing off the ledge. âLetâs just finish patrol.â
Later that night, Raph found himself standing outside your building. He didnât plan to stop by, but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own. It wasnât like he hadnât been there before, but youâd always kept visits brief, meeting him at the window or insisting on hanging out somewhere else.
Tonight, though, curiosity gnawed at him. Something didnât add up.
He climbed up the fire escape and peeked through your window, his eyes scanning the cozy living room inside. His gaze landed on a little girl curled up on the couch, watching cartoons with a stuffed rabbit tucked under her arm.
Raph froze. A kid?
Before he could process what he was seeing, the girl turned toward the windowâand screamed.
âMommy!â
Raph stumbled back, his heart racing. He didnât mean to scare her. âAh, crap,â he muttered under his breath.
The window opened a moment later, and there you stood, your face pale with worry. When your eyes landed on him, relief flooded your features.
âDamm... Raph?â
âHey,â he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. âDidnât mean to freak anyone out. Iâuhâjust wanted to check on ya.â
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you glanced back into the apartment, where your daughter was peeking out cautiously. You stepped outside, closing the door behind you.
âWhat are you doing here?â you asked softly, though there was no anger in your tone.
Raph shrugged, avoiding your eyes. âWas in the neighborhood.â
You sighed, crossing your arms. âLook, I appreciate you coming by, but⌠now you know. I have a daughter.â
He looked at you then, his expression unreadable. âYeah, I figured. Why didnât ya tell me?â
âI didnât want to,â you admitted, your voice quiet. âNot because I donât trust you, but because⌠itâs complicated.â
Raph leaned against the railing, his gaze steady on you. âTry me.â
You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. âHer dad left when I told him I was pregnant. He⌠he didnât want anything to do with us. And ever since then, people have treated me like Iâm some kind of failure. Like Anneâs a mistake or a burden.â
Raphâs hands clenched into fists at your words. âThat guyâs an idiot. Youâre one of the strongest people I know.â
You gave a small, humorless laugh. âThatâs nice of you to say, but it doesnât change the way people look at us. I didnât want youâor any of the guysâto look at me that way, either.â
âWhat the fu... Is that what you think weâd do?â he asked, his voice low.
âNo,â you said quickly. âNot really. But I couldnât risk it. Anneâs been through enough, and so have I.â
Raph stayed quiet for a moment, his green eyes watching you carefully. Finally, he said, âYou donât gotta hide stuff from me. You think Iâm gonna judge you âcause some jerk didnât know how good he had it? Nah. If anything, I get it.â
You blinked at him. âYou do?â
He nodded, his voice softening. âPeople see me and my brothers as nothinâ but monsters. They donât bother gettinâ to know us, just judge us on sight. So yeah, I get what itâs like havinâ to prove yourself to people who donât deserve it.â
Your eyes stung with unshed tears, but you quickly wiped them away. âI didnât think about it like that.â
Raph shrugged. âGuess weâre more alike than ya thought.â
You smiled then, a real, genuine smile. âThank you, Raph.â
âFor what?â
âFor⌠not making me feel like I have to hide.â
He smirked. âDonât mention it. But, uh, maybe you should introduce me to the kid. She sounded pretty freaked out.â
You laughed softly. âYeah, sheâs⌠not used to seeing turtles the size of linebackers.â
âWell, I ainât so bad once ya get to know me,â he said, his tone teasing.
âMaybe,â you said, your smile growing. âBut take it slow, okay? Sheâs my whole world.â
Raph nodded, his expression turning serious. âI get it. I wonât do anything to mess that up. You got my word.â
As Raph followed you back inside, offering a small wave to Anne, you realized you might have found someone willing to carry a little of the weight with you.
#reader#x reader#y/n#tmnt#tmnt x reader#bayverse tmnt x reader#f!reader#tmnt bayverse#bayverse leonardo#bayverse mikey#bayverse donnie#bayverse raphael
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As disgusted and distressed as speaking to this thing made her, it being so quiet while it stared was somehow even more uncomfortable. The silence dragged on, feeling far longer to her than it actually was. All the while, she stared in return, watching it with tension rising in her body as it leaned back, waiting for it to say something. Anything. And yet she was unprepared when it looked at her again, the hate in those eyes giving her as much of a jolt as any of its anger had. Perhaps even more so.
Her heart once again felt as though it were trying to leap from her chest, pounding against her ribs, while her whole body screamed at her as it got up. Danger. Predator. Run. RUN. She very nearly fell off her seat in her attempts to shrink away from it, to gain some space that it wouldnât allow. It was claustrophobic. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, her hands gripping tightly to the edge of the bench.
âŚthe only reason he's here with you right now is because you remind him of home.
âYou wish.â She managed a scoff, but⌠ouch. Right in the self-esteem. Or lack of.
And there was another little pang of guilt. After all, wasnât that part of why she was hanging onto him so desperately? Someone from before. Someone from before the life sheâd built for herself had been shattered to pieces. Someone who didnât give her that look. Didnât give her the worried little glances that her family didnât think she noticed. The ones that she pretended not to⌠But then it said something that pushed any little hint of her self loathing right back down.
Sasha.
The moment her name left his mouth she was back on her feet, actually having to remind herself that swinging at this asshole would only hurt Lance, not it. That it was Lanceâs face, no matter how distorted it might appear. Amazing how quickly rage could rise in her like that. As if a switch was flipped, that anger was back. That anger that felt so much better than fear, so much more comforting. That anger that brought out the other side of her, the side that was so very dangerous when her powers werenât safely locked away. Hell, it was dangerous even when they wereâŚ
She couldnât give a shit about its digs at her, those similarities between her and Sasha, though they would no doubt play on her mind later. âYouâre pathetic. She didnât do anything to you. None of them did, you fââ Her voice cracked, the lump that had formed there needing to be swallowed down. Three days. Three days of suffering, because of this vile thing. This fucking monster that wore her friends face. She very nearly faltered under that gaze, wanted to cringe away from the laughter. But indignation kept her standing firm, glaring up at Lanceâs face. âThe only reason heâs here with you right now is because youâre holdinâ his fuckinâ brain hostage. One day, heâs not gonna be scared of you any more. And thatâs when youâll have it cominâ. Youâre gonna pay for what you did to her, youâre gonna be squashed down inside him so small that ants will feel bad for you. Youâre fucked.â
âIâm his friend. Caring about people has gotta be a foreign concept to you, but newsflash: that isnât gonna change, no matter how much you want it to. So keep goinâ with all your speeches, and all that sour grapes bullshit. None of it means anything.â
The incessant stare was still there. Unwavering. Unblinking. Penetrating. And for the first time in this conversation, it was keeping quiet for a while. Didn't say anything, didn't reply, didn't react, just so it could keep up the staring all the more. It only stirred ever so slightly when it could feel how its host was starting to come to again, putting himself back together, piece by fractured piece.
And because of that it sat there another moment longer, closing his eyes. Leaning his head back, gently, carefully. Relishing how it could feel the effect it was having on Lance's body worming its way all over it ever so gracefully. All over his brain, inside his brain. Undoing damage, rekindling complexity.
It was only because it knew it was running out of time with her, that Lance's eyes finally snapped back open again, transfixed her again. Showcasing a very notable and sudden shift from obsession, mindless joy, ecstasy and love straight into utter hatred. It had only just made Lance's body sit back down, but here it was once again, getting it back up just so it could walk back over to her.
"Oh. How I. Cannot. WAIT....." it began, each word spat out like the stab of a knife, though the aggression was weirdly distorted by the way it was grinning at the same time, lacking the joy and amusement now. A predator baring its teeth before a meal.
It crossed the distance between them in all but three strides, perfectly underlining its words as well. Then it was standing right in front of her again, her friend's features distorted by its sheer madness and all that violence simmering underneath.
"...to find out just what and how much you can handle. It's gonna be a lot, isn't it. Oh, I bet it is. And I'm looking forward to that, Tyler."
It only stopped walking towards her when their bodies were but an inch away from each other, chasing her every movement, not allowing her an inch of direction.
"And you know what? I can handle the time it's going to take him to drop you like a wet paper bag. Which, knowing Lance, is not going to be long, let's not lie to ourselves, hm? Hell, I'm enjoying this part, too. You, slowly realizing that the only reason he's here with you right now is because you remind him of home. Of the before. And that once I take him back to his actual home, back to his real family, just the way I promised him, he's going to drop you so hard just like all the others" Laughter now, Madness making way for that joy again. "And you see, that's when you'll have it coming, bestie. Because that's when I know he'll handle it like the fucking champ he is. And that it's not even going to hurt him one. bit. Not the way dear Sasha did. You know about her, don't you? That cutsie little thing they had going on?"
It launched into yet another fullblown manic ramble, though this time it continued to lack the joy and the fun, was entirely deranged. The way it distorted his face into a pout at that last part until once more, it was laughing. Softly. Slowly. Almost velvety. Like sipping fine wine. Until it stopped. Just looked at her, through a twirl of magenta and chaos.
"Didn't even last three days by the time I was done with that one. Though I did try to take my time with her. For his sake. Not hers. But hey, I've learned my lessons. And now you? Oh, here we are, Sasha 2.0. Well, 1.5. No, 0.5, if we're honest. Small, feisty, 'just friends', all right. Hell, he even used some of the same lines on you and they worked, didn't they."
A big, theatrical wink, a single laugh, the face falling all over again, turning dead serious.
"I'm going to enjoy this redux. I can wait for it. I'm going to wait for it. Oh I can handle the wait. And when the time comes. Not if, when, ....boy, are you going to show me how much you can handle."
#Tyler: âOne day heâs not gonna be scared of you any moreâ#Me: Ty bby that wouldnât go how you think it would. *side eyes the symbiont verse đ*#also I absolutely love how much they hate each other. đ#badassxqueue#*interactions#demcnsinmymind
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Raxy is slowly turning himself into the MsScribe of the Fire Emblem fandom.
Does that mean he's gonna get exposed and called out by the entire fandom? Fuck yeah I'm all for that!
#grey borb#raxytatortots#edelgard discourse#crash and burn raxy#you went through people trying to ignore you and that didnt work#so now people are gonna stand up against you#how does it feel?#can you even feel?#you didnt care when people suffered
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#vent incoming (nothing too serious i just need to complain about being mentally ill)#ugggggh can i just have ONE major creative project that doesn't brush up against my ptsd??? like literally just one???#like with my musical i wrote that was kind of a given bc i was writing that as a (not always healthy) coping mechanism#but now i'm working on this doc and it's like yippee it's not about me and it's a topic i love and working with incredibly supportive peopl#but then that asshole from my college just had to go and traumatize me last semester in a way very tied to the doc#and like luckily i don't have to deal with that asshole anymore. i can just work on my silly little doc and do my silly little interview#with my silly little 65-year-old best friends lmao. except whoops! even tho all that traumatic shit is far behind me#literally the act of preparing for an interview is poking at my ptsd again!! what the fuck!!!#@ my ptsd - The Asshole From Your College Is Not Going To Teleport To Toronto To Ruin Your Interview You Dumbass#it sucks but y'know i'm gonna get through it bc it's worth it to keep going#and honestly this is the best project to be working through shit like that bc scott's also someone who makes very personal art#which can end up brushing up against ptsd. like we literally connected over his ''ptsdiva'' podcast#and he's said the main thing that made me stand out after our first conversation was that i was the first person irl to mention the podcast#and also even if i wish it hadn't gone like this. scott *was* around when i was dealing with being traumatized by that college asshole#and he was so supportive while i was processing my shit and made it clear he'd defend me if he needed to#and i've gotten the opportunity to be there for him during his own rough times while working on this documentary#so like. it'll be fine. i hope i can just feel my feelings and get over it before the interview itself. but if not scott will understand#but yeah fuck that guy from my college and i hope he knows all the kids in the hall would hate him for what he did to me
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Autocorrect stop changing "Quirrel" to "Squirrel" challenge: Impossible.
#hollow knight#quirrel#i am writing a fanfic. i haven't written in years#i have 24k words written rn#does anyone still follow me from when i wrote fnaf fanfic in like 2019??#if so hi. also sorry. this will be absolutely nothing like my fnaf fics#i am writing in ~3rd person~ now instead of cringe second person POV#also this is a vent fic so it's just gonna be sad asf most the time then it will be hurt/comfort and recovery so like.#not even gonna post it to tumblr#but if you know my ao3 account you know#im not against giving it out i just think 0 people will want to read this#it's not up to my normal quality but if i made it my normal quality it would double in size to fix pacing issues#i'm doing lots of telling and not showing/dialogue because it needs to move faster#and not be a 100k burn of hurt and pain then slow recovery#instead it will probably be around 30k when i'm done#plus i feel so sick dwelling on the first of my 3 acts i can't stand to edit it anymore it's making me depressed#i have a like normal HK fic i started forever ago that's mostly just angst but I would be actually proud to share it if i finish#had to write a fight scene. realized idk how to write a fight scene. got writer's block and abandoned it. rip#also i do have a fnaf fic i want to finish eventually but it's soooo old rn#but it's super silly and fun
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