#what they were gonna do and how far they were gonna go
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
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.
TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige
@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds
@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron
@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog
@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2
@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron au#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe cameron angst#toxic!rafe#toxic!reader#angst#itneverendshere worksâ¨#rafe cameron series#rafe cameron outer banks#eventual smut#eventual fluff#just angst now#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron obx#obx 4#obx rafe cameron#rafe x sofia
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
likelookingatthings Go full metal alchemist ford!
greycoffeethe amount of angst an AU like this can create... dang i need this as a fic so bad
ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee The fact when you commented this so I told my sister and she isn't even in the gravity falls fandom...yet immediately pingponged alternate ways a full mental alchemist gravity falls fic au could go.
Stan as Edward whose brother's body was lost like al as a parallel to ford accidentally getting sucked in the portal and how stan was burned with a reminder.
. The burning house losing identity parallel to not turn back til he gets his brother back. A version where ford's soul was lost but not his body and Stan gets punched in that white void like when Ed sees his brother.A version where like normal full mental fird is in a suit like al and lost his body.
A version where Stan has to pretend to be his alchemist brother but can't do alchemy...just conning his way into people believing it.
How you coukd mix different aspects together. Professor Markov with his research and paranoia similar to ford. How maybe they tried to mess with a taboo. Like maybe they were trying to bring someone back....or maybe ford got tricked by the hulunculi becayse ifvhisctendency to push boundaries in research bht realized he went too far or something..aspect of government conspiracies and how the philosophers stone also connects gold/wealth which stan was obsessed with.
Even brought up a thought if a Stanford stanely parallel with greed and the prince. And a unending options defending on what ratio you lean toward .
Greycoffe@ THESE ARE SUCH GOOD IDEAS HOLY SHIT?? like another idea I got from one of yours is Dip&Mab being Ed&Al and after trying to bring back their dead loved one, have to move in with Stan (this version's Pinako) who's taking care of Pacifica (can be someone else, but I thought she'd be a cute love interest for either twin).
greycoffee i really enjoyed reading your ideas but I cannot for the love of me write out a fully fleshed out fic bc I'm already writing other AUs đ (i shall keep this in my notes however :3)
Ford could possibly be someone like Hohenheim with Bill being the homunculus in the flask, etc etc
ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee Ooooh that's fun! Cuz Pacifica abd windy are blonde..also some potential if she represents king Bradley's kid. What with her family being rich and the theme of corruption of rich government people. There is also the option of what if Stan if Stan is the alchemist teacher.....
ooooh or if dipper and Mabel represent Edward while stan is al.Personally off arc I'd picture her as from the north fortress from the Armstrong family.
or that guy with a mustache from the mining town who gets overthrown by the siblings meddling who gets caught up in shenegans and petty talks of revenge but who slowly gets a arc if being a better person.
Huh...just realized Pacifica could also be greed, the prince or Mei since her sense of importance and need to make her family happy and her struggle to understand friends.
Want to throw out there fiddleford could be doctor Markov. And for fun and not for real...Barry the butcher as stan.
Though if Pacifica is winry would that make that ghost who hates her family scar? Though if she's a Armstrong would that make sloth the ghost?
Honestly I get the feeling. I'm so behind on getting through my fanfiction tabs the thought of writing myself even when I have ideas to chew on can feel like too much at times.
I'm gonna reblog this conversation. See if anyone else wants to chew on this bone.
Extra thought...stanley and fird as Riza and mustang considering the trying to become mayor plot line and who we knkw gets injured in the end.
Also a funny imagine is while adjusting ages xan wirk...just imagine all the characters the same age in gravity falls and things get ten times more hilarious (or sad depending) cuz the government has a bunch of kid employees running things. Just imagine old stan and ford as the elric Brothers while the kid superiors are dipper and Mabel.
Was inspired by this
Ford "Icarus didn't flap hard enough" Pines
#gravity falls#gravity falls au#stanford pines#stanley pines#frankenstein/ghost au#Full metal alchemist#fullmetal alchemist#full metal alchemis brotherhood#Edward elric#Alphonso elric#The pine Brothers#dipper pines#Mabel pines#Pine twins#I Caruso#Mystery#Barry the butcher#Scar#King Bradley#Pacifica
13K notes
¡
View notes
Text
I'm feeling bitchily critical today so. Let's get critical.
Reasons why Season 8 of 911 (so far) sucks:
Bobby and Athena are aimless
They have no house. The logical development is for them to look for one, one for their future. That is theirs. Where are the house hunting woes? The disageeements and compromises? Are they ever going to have a chance to find a place they both love? Or build one, even?
Athena's job description is all over the place
She's giving school talks. She's conducting traffic stops. She's escorting a prisoner across state lines. She is mentoring new officers. She's a goddamn Sergeant but what is her job scope? Every single thing requiring the presence of police, apparently!
Hen and Karen have little direction for growth
The Mara adoption issue could have brought out more of their relationship, developed them in terms of relying on each other through a difficult time. The storyline with Ortiz could have really delved into the struggles of the foster care system, and how Hen and Karen broke rules designed to protect the kids. (Seriously, if a child is removed from a foster family, it's logical not allowing the foster parents to meet the child that was removed for the safety of the child). Where was the appeal to Ortiz as a mother? Where was the struggle? Where is the tension between the Wilsons and the Hans? Instead there was a Deux Ex Gerrard. And I am not even gonna start on the whole "why didn't you take leave for Halloween" shit, that stuff should have been settled when Denny was a baby. What are their next steps? Same old same old?
Gerrard is a joke
An established bigot and racist returns. He could have been a great way to show how the 118 has grown beyond him and his bullying. Instead they're cowed by him, and lets him yell at Buck? Whatever happened to the "who cares" courage in Season 7? And he gets the reward of his dream job?
Eddie is still not healed
He emotionally cheated on his girlfriend with his dead wife's doppelganger. Has he even processed what that actually means? No! His son moved to Texas. Has he coped with the loneliness in his house? Who knows? Certainly not the audience, since we don't see him go to therapy or, hell, have a full breakdown! He confides in people who aren't his friends, let alone his so-called best friend! Bobby gave him a prayer book but we don't even hear Eddie rage at a God who keeps putting devastation and challenges in his way. What wa the point of the prayer book then? He just danced in his underwear and somehow that made him smile and now he's moving across the country and, what, giving up on his home and his job? Is that really healing, Edmundo DĂaz? Or are you just running from the problem again?
Chimney has no internal or external motivation
He was providing for Mara for a few months. Was he stressed about it? Did he think about seeking a promotion for a higher salary? Also, he is an immigrant. Does that influence how he teaches Jee? Has he and Maddie, white suburban raised Maddie, ever discussed the potential problems Jee might face? Or whether they wanna include some Korean culture in Jee's education, since they gave her a Korean name? Does he ever think about any of these issues? Is he at all conflicted? What does Chimney want?
Maddie
She was the one who wanted to meet Tommy. Has she done so outside of the wedding? What was her opinion of him? Is Maddie content to stay in Dispatch in the exact same position? Has she any career ambition? And about Jee: does she never think about the Korean part of Jee? Connecting to her own culture? Learning Korean, maybe? That would have been interesting because perhaps she wants her daughter to connect to that part of her roots but Chimney doesn't, for his own reasons. Also, if she wants to have a second kid, why didn't she discuss it with Chimney outright before the pregnancy? Was she not taking the pill? Were they careless again? What would she do if Chimney didn't want a second child? Abort? Given how the first pregnancy was traumatic for the whole family, including her brother, this development is showing her to be pretty self-centered, frankly. I don't know this Maddie. She's not the same one that gave Buck her Jeep to escape, knowing that she'll be hurt by an abusive husband.
Brad
Why is airtime devoted to a character that is barely connected to the 118? What is the reason behind giving him so much focus? Is he supposed to quit acting and become a firefighter or something? What is the rationale for his existence?
.
.
And I haven't even touched on Buck or Tommy.
#911 critical#feeling bitchy#anyway.#it irks me when a story's potential isn't met#and there is so much potential lost
210 notes
¡
View notes
Note
My friend is urging me to resubmit this because they're sure it must have been askbox eaten, my deepest apologies if this is a repeat.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Jazz breathed out. Heâd been screened, and the chance of him collapsing into a complete, insane mess was very, very low. He kind of wished that theyâd tell him exactly how low. That would be nice and reassuring, unless it wasnât, at which point he would⌠go ahead with it anyway, because what else was there to do at this point?
One motion jacked in the last cable, and then there was⌠something. A sensation, like electricity and like opening. There was something outside of him, on the edge. The mech, probably. It wasnât like there were testimonials about this. Yet. Maybe he should write one, when this was over, so that baby mech pilots would know what the hell to expect. So long as he was able to do that.
He was stalling.
Jazz breathed in, and pushed outwards.
Then began to run out of himself, spilling to fill the new space that heâd found. It was a strange sensation, like water and electricity flowing out of him. He blinked, and shook his head, filing the thought for a song or something. Always important to save lines when you thought of them.
Jazz blinked again. Oh. This wasnât the inside of the cockpit. This was the inside of the hanger. That was⌠good. That was good. And now that he checked, heâd backed that line up to some kind of electronic memory. That was probably meant for recording encounters with the monsters, not for keeping up with the poetical ideas of the pilot. Ah well, his idle thoughts probably wouldnât take up enough room for anyone to notice or care. He put a lock on it anyway. If they asked him to explain it, heâd just wink at them and say that they didnât want to know everything that he thought.
Carefully, he flexed his hand. It was different, but not bad different. His connections and struts communicated feedback to him, telling him how much strain they could take, what materials they were made of, how far they could bend. It was kind of cool to have this level of detail about his body.
Checking the power levels, Jazz was made aware that his human body would shut down far before his mech one. There was enough auxiliary power in here for two weeks- oh, and there was a storage cache in here. What was that supposed to be for? It was airtight, he knew his own seals. Big enough for food, water, and medical supplies, as well as some mech repair tools and materials. Fuck whatever it was supposed to be for, it was gonna be his donât die cabinet. Closet. Pantry. Whatever. Supply room. That was better. He added the new designation to his mental map. It slotted right in, nice.
There was actually a lot of empty space in here. He should get some tape and ties and bundle the cables in some of his limbs so that they didnât rattle around and tangle. They could even get unplugged if they got tied up enough, which was a hazard. Who had built this thing? Having an actual person to make complaints to about how his body was built was going to be nice.
Wait.
Okay.
Jazz needed to get back to himself. This wasnât his body. He had done the basic checks. He needed to unjack the cable and check that he was alright.
He reached up, and the mech hand moved.
Okay. Donât panic. Panic is not useful. Panic is bad. He could feel his fans- the fans of the mech kicking up. It thought that he was in a fight, and was preparing. It wasnât exactly helpful for what he was trying to do. It made him feel more present and alive in the body that wasnât supposed to be his body.
Jazz offlined his optics that werenât supposed to be his, and tried to retreat. Tucking himself back in, becoming small again. It hurt, and he cringed back outward. Why was he hurting himself? Because he needed to. He crunched down harder, forcing himself out of his own (NOT his own) systems. Pressing himself into that small organic core again.
Finally, he brought up a human arm and unplugged himself.
The face was damp. Why was it damp? His face was damp. He had been crying. Probably from pain.
Was being human supposed to hurt? Being a mech hadnât hurt at all. Inhabiting. Using. Using a mech hadnât hurt at all. Vocabulary. Word choice. Very important, heâs written enough songs to know that.
Heâd thought of a good line during that, hadnât he? But when he tried to access it- remember it- ah. It was in the mech. Which he wasnât in right now. Well, he was in it, but he wasnât it. Because he was a human and wasnât a mech.
Jazz breathed in, staring at the cable in his hands. It would be so easy to plug it back in, just to get to the line.
It would hurt so much to be human again.
Jazz breathed out, put down the cable, and began the process of getting himself out of the mech.
OOHHHHHH WAIT I HAVENT SEEN THIS OH MY GOD OTROKRKGKEL
#mecha pilot jazz au#thank you for your writing AND for submitting ehehemhmhm#my inbox became an absolute mess since that au started haha
299 notes
¡
View notes
Note
Hi!!! Can I maybe do a request? It would be like; Eddie is your boyfriend and both of you are in a dinner with your parents at your house (you still living with them) and you get suddenly so hot, and you are hurry and says an excuse like you want to go out for a while to walk with Eddie or whatever. But in reality you go with him to fuck in wherever or his car or in a public place or whatever you want because you have to return to your parent's house. It's this request possible? if it is, do it when you have time, and thank you so much for taking the time to read. I hope you're well âĄ
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
warningsâ semi public sex, oral(f!receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.
a/nâ you guys do not want to know how long this was in my drafts forâŚ.but enjoy <3
︾âżŕ¨âĄŕ§âżď¸ľâżď¸ľâżŕ¨âĄŕ§âżď¸ľâżď¸ľâżŕ¨âĄŕ§âżď¸ľâżď¸ľâż
âMom, dad, I think we're full now, time for that walk around the neighbourhood,â you smiled, dragging Eddie away eagerly.
You werenât full. In fact, you were far from it. You didnât want to be full of your parentsâ food, youâd much rather be full of Eddieâs cock. And now, you needed that more than ever.
âWell hurry back before curfew,â your father uttered and you rolled your eyes, grabbing your boyfriendâs bicep and hurrying out the door.
âGoddamn, felt like your parents were gonna eat me aliveââ
Before Eddie could finish his ranting about your parents, your pouty lips crashed onto his, capturing them in a needy, desperate kiss.
âMmâ fuck, whatâs gotten into you baby?â he inquired.
âI just need you, so bad, please,â you whined, âwe can go to the park. Thereâs a secluded spot no one goes to at this hour.â
âAlright sweetheart, whatever you want.â
You practically ran to the park, desperate to feel Eddieâs large hands over your frame. There was a bench that he sat on and pulled you onto his lap.
He gripped your neck and sucked on your lips harshly while you undid his handcuffs for a belt buckle and pulled out his hard dick.
âYou sure you wanna do this princess? Here?â he asked.
The desperate look in your eyes told him all he needed to know. Your mini skirt gave him easy access and, he shifted your underwear and positioned the leaking, bulbous head at your entrance.
âPlease baby, please fuck me. Need you inside me so bad,â you whined, âneed that fat cock deep inside me.â
Eddie held your hips and helped you slowly sink down onto his awaiting cock. You felt as if youâd been waiting for ages and as soon as you felt him inside you, you threw your head against his shoulder.
âFuck sweetheart,â Eddie moaned shakily. Your pussy pulsated around him as he slowly wiggled and thrusted up into you. His hands roamed over your body until they reach your breasts. You whimpered as you felt him fondle them. His other hand made its way to your clit, rubbing rough, wet circles as you jolted on top of him.
âYou like that baby, does it feel good?â
âS-so much Ed, need to cum,â you whined.Â
The night was dark and quiet, the only sounds coming from the rustling leaves and your soft moans echoing through the empty park. âYouâve gotta keep it down, sweetheart,â he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. But you couldnât help itâthe way he moved, the way he filled youâeverything was overwhelming.
âEddie, Iââ your voice came out in a broken gasp, far too loud for comfort. Before you could finish, his lips crashed against yours, swallowing your cries with a heated kiss. His hand slid up your back to pull you closer, while his other hand groped your thigh, kneading the soft dark skin.
âYouâre so loud, babe,â he teased against your lips, his voice a low growl. âDonât want someone catching us, do you?â His smirk said otherwise, but the thought only heightened the thrill.
You couldnât respond, the pace of his hips stole the words right out of your mouth. Then it hit you, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing through your body. Your legs trembled, and a shudder wracked through you as you came hard, your release soaking the both of you.
âGood girl,â Eddie breathed, a little breathless himself, his hands holding you steady as you slumped against him. But he wasnât finished.
Gently, he lifted you off him and laid his leather jacket down on the bench. âLie back for me,â he coaxed, his voice rough but soft. You complied, your chest heaving as you felt him nudge your knees apart. He tugged your soaked panties to the side and leaned in, his lips brushing your inner thigh.
âEddie,â you whispered, your voice shaky. âWhat ifâsomeoneââ
âNo oneâs out here, didnât you say that?â he reassured, grinning up at you. âAnd even if they are, let âem hear how good I make you feel.â
The first swipe of his tongue sent a jolt through you, and you tried to stifle a moan. He didnât make it easy, though, holding your hips down and diving in deeper. âYou taste so good,â he murmured, his words muffled against your skin.
Your fingers found their way to his long hair, tugging gently as he worked you over, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. âEddie, please,â you whimpered, your voice trembling as you fought the urge to scream his name.
âCome on, sweetheart,â he urged, his voice low and commanding. âI want to feel you.â With that, you let go, your orgasm hitting you in waves as your body shuddered under his touch.
âHolyââ Eddie pulled back, his lips glistening, his eyes wide with amazement. âYouâre so damn horny, arenât you?â He grinned, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You nodded, breathless, as he moved to hover over you. He positioned himself at your leaking entrance slipping back inside with a moan. One hand cupped the back of your head, protecting it from the hard bench as he thrust into you, slow and deep.
âYou feel amazing,â he rasped, his forehead resting against yours. âSo tight, so perfect.â
âEddie,â you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as you arched into him, desperate for more.
âThatâs it, baby,â he praised, his voice thick with desire. âTake my cock. Youâre doing so good.â
The tension built again, the two of you moving together, the world around you forgotten. âCum with me,â he groaned, his pace quickening. âI want to feel you gush around my cock.â
You held onto him, your nails digging into his back as you reached the peak together. His release was deep, filling you with warmth, and you trembled beneath him.
For a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Then, with a soft kiss to your forehead, Eddie pulled away, fixing your clothes and helping you sit up. âWe better head back, babyâ he said with a grin, his tone light despite the flush in his cheeks.
The walk back to his parentsâ house was quiet as you held hands, but the heat between you lingered. When you stepped inside, your dadâs eyes flicked to you both, narrowing slightly. âHave fun out there?â he asked, his voice casual but laced with suspicion.
âOh, we had a lot of fun,â Eddie replied smoothly, throwing you a wink.
You bit back a smile, heading to the kitchen to help your mom with the dishes, all the while aware of the evidence of your night with Eddieâs cum dripping down your thighs.
#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson request#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x f!reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ff#stranger things 4#stranger things smut#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#eddie munson icons#dom eddie munson#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things s4#stranger things s4 vol2
216 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Yeah, Bidens a coward at best and a genocidal POS at worst
But Trump is also literally a white supremacist who is BFFs with Netanyahu and has been helping him stall any "peace" ("ceasefire") talks
Trump is not the answer to the situation, he will make it worse.
This past election wasn't about who would help Gaza, no one with the ability to become President cared about Gaza.
This was about how many American minorities, including Palestinian refugees, were taken with them.
It wasn't about Gaza, unfortunately, it was about harm reduction. It was about "who is easier to fight? A party who kinda doesn't wanr to act or fix anything or a party who is actively setting the house on fire?"
And y'all chose to throw trans & queer people, immigrants, people of colour, the environment, the economy, the poor, the sick, the homeless, women, and everyone else on the fire as well.
Also:
The genocide didn't start in 2023, Israel has been trying to erase Palestine since the 1940s and the reaction of the western world shows that it didn't matter who was President of the USA, if it did places like Australia, the UK, countries in Europe, Canada, some of them would have condemned Israel.
But they didn't.
Because it's not about Biden, it's literally just racism. It would have been the same or worse if Trump had won in 2020.
Acting like this is happening because of Biden is ignorance at best and misinformation at worst, Netanyahu isn't doing this because Biden is in power, he's doing this because Israel is a colonising state built on eugenics and a jewish-centrist version of white supremacy that has existed Before Hitler even came to power before WW2.
Colonisers gonna colonise and this was always going to happen without outside intervention.
Look at native amercians, native Australians, natives that have been displaced, murdered, and subjugated for centuries.
Israel took its playbook from them, and this was always going to happen. Israel put Hamas in place to begin with in like 2004. There was always going to be a ramp up in violence, no matter who was President of the USA.
Literally the only difference between Harris winning 2024 and Trump winning 2024 is that if Harris won, less people in the USA would have to worry about their rights/livelyhoods/safety/etc.
Now that Trump has won, a ton of people have gone into "duck, cover and survive" mode meaning that there is less help for others.
People can't rally if they have to work more for less, if the cops are gonna drag them off the streets cuz they 'look like an illegal immigrat'
And don't bring up "well people died under Biden" like it's some kind of "gotcha" cuz a ton of those deaths are from impacts of Trump's term and being like "well people were gonna die either way" is just the worst take.
This election was about "how can we limit and reduce harm?" And y'all went "Biden sucks im voting for the literal Nazi"
Netanyahu is not ramping up his actions because he's worried he won't be able to finish it when Trump is in power, he knows he can.
He's ramping up because of several reasons: 1 - this war is tanking the Israel economy, 2 - slowly public opinion is turning - not really in politics but in every day people and boycotts are working causing companies like McDonalds to withdraw many franchises from Israel & illegal settlements, 3 - that's what colonisers do. Its literally part of the playbook.
It has basically nothing to do with who's in power anywhere else. If it did, then the majority of the rest of the world's politicians wouldn't also be just standing by or, even worse, supporting Israel.
To summerise:
Yes, Biden is a coloniser, a genocide supporter, a coward, and a piece of shit
No, the genocide in Israel isn't connected to who's in power in the USA because it's actions have been consistent since before world war 2 & as far as I'm aware we've had a Lot of people in power since then all over the world.
Places like the US and Australia have been supporting Israel since the 1940s. And the USA has been sending weapons since the 1960s at least.
This isn't a modern day problem, this is a systematic issue that's existed for decades.
If you threw everyone on the fire just because Biden & then Harris didn't support Palestine, the blood of Palestine and everyone else is on your hands.
If you voted for Trump: you're a white supremacist. It doesn't matter if you agree with all his policies or none, if you vote for a Nazi, you are a Nazi.
White supremacy is worse than mold: if you let it take root for even a second you'll have to strip the entire room to weed it all out
#sorry for the long rant#im just sick of people implying that Biden is activley connected to whats happening#like hes not helpinh#and hes a POS#but this would have happened no matter who was in power#because its not about the US#its about israel and their coloniser bullshit#palestine#support palestine#keep putting pressure on ur governments#australian gov isnt activley sending weapons to israel but theyre not preventing Aus companies doing so#and thats the same thing in the end
3K notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđđ đđđđđđ đđđ
â° SHOW ďš ARCANE !
︾ WARNING(S) ďšâ° swearing ⸠violence ďš sex
︾ relationship ďš Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn
âŁăťS2ăťHEAVY IS THE CROWN︰
THE SOUND OF screaming could be heard when you had awoken from being on the ground, your hair in a messy style as you couldnât see your surroundings. was Jayce and viktor okay? was everyone alright? mel..? of course you wouldnât know, everything in your body hurt, it felt like some sort of piece of metal lodged in your side.
Being a well trained solider had its many perks but you werenât prepared for this. Of course you werenât. like they say, the most unexpected things come.
For you though it felt a little far fetched whenever your mom would tell you the stories about the ghost and salem. Where the witch would be haunted down and hunted but towards the end they found her having did no wrong doing.
Sad tale it was. really.
Everything on your body hurt like hell, the only voice you could hear was Jayceâs. was he carrying you and viktor? probably.
That dude had some incredible strength.
JAYCE SITS IN a chair with his head in his hand, looking over at viktor who lays inside the hextech. seeing you and viktor in this condition was tearing him limb from limb, not in a gruesome way but a much more sadder way.
He had hated not being able to protect the both of you, it felt like hell. But you know, some things just come and goâŚyou lay there on a bed with a bunch of ivâs attached to your arms and lower half, your hair was in a messy bun since Jayce had tried thing it himself.
Mel walks inside his office as she takes a look around, her eyes landing on Jayce. âHow are they?â She questioned.
âSame as before. Theyâre both breathing.â Jayce answers in reply, a distressed look on his face. âTheir pluses are consistent. Beyond that, your guess is as good as mines.â
Mel walks over to viktor, her eyes landing on the hextech as she starts reaching her hand out with curiosity. When she goes to touch it, it reacts differently with her making her gasp and step back.
âWhatâs it doing to him?â Mel questions.
âThe hexcore has been evolving.â Jayce explains, âshifting through runic patters faster than I can keep up. All I know for certain is that itâs keeping him and her alive.â
Jayce eyes land on where you laid, his heart aching with devastation as he sees you reacting differently to the hextech aside from viktor, your body was rejecting it but also accepting it at the same time.
If it was the only thing keeping you alive he wasnât gonna mess with it.
âIt should be me up there instead of him. I should be laying in that bed instead of her,â Jayce grumbled, gesturing to an unconscious you on the bed barely breathing. âVi and cait are gonna lose it.â
âDonât say that.â Mel placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. âTheyâll both come back to us.â
âI still donât understand.â Jayce replies. âThey were both right next to me. How does the explosion do that to them, and I justâŚ? I just walk out without a scratch? [name] almost lost a hand, my god.â
Mel sighs. âThereâs no sense to these things, Jayce.â
The male was quiet for a while before speaking again, âhowâd it go with the council?â he asks.
Mel scoffs. âMy motherâs entered the game. Sheâs already gotten her hooks into salo. Using his grief to make a play for hextech.â
âMel, I promised viktor, never again.â Jayce tells the woman.
Mel places her hand over his. âItâs all right. I handled it. I wonât let them corrupt your dream.â
Jayce looks over at an unconscious you again, before laying his head on melâs thighs, tears threaten to fall down his eyes but he holds them back.
He just wanted you and viktor back, thatâs all.
You were very important to caitlyn and vi after all.
âI should get going now.â Mel says, âyou might want to spend some alone time with them.â
With that, she stood up and patted his shoulder one last time before walking out the door. The door slams shut behind her by itself, making Jayce flinch a little.
He feels you stir, his head perks up immediately.
When it does, he saw you already staring at him, a confused look on your gaze.
âWhat was that about?â You questioned, sitting up with your back pressed against the pillows. It was a little hard to breathe but it was manageable with the breathing machine.
âI donât even care-- i just-- youâre--?â Jayce launches forward and pulls you into a huge, a huge so tight you had gasped. He wasnât hugging you too tight as though you couldnât breatheâ he just hugged you with desperation and worry.
âWoah! hey, hey, itâs okay.â You reassured, patting his back. âIâm okay.â
He was so happy to hear your voice.
âONE OF THE MANY PRIVILEGES OF SERVING AS YOUR COUNCILOR IS HAVING THE OCCASION NOW AND AGAIN TO STAND BEHIND THIS PODIUM TO BEHOLD SO MANY JOINED TOGETHER NOT BY BIRTH OR DICTUM BUT BY ALL THAT WE SHARE.â MEL SPOKE as you stood by the other guards to keep watch, your back was leaned against the wall as the wound with the patch on your side was being healed. Your biceps flexing under the light as your toned abs still hurting from the explosion, but the wounds would heal, you were sure.
You glanced down at the tattoo on your hip and let your thumb graze over it, remembering when it was given.
You see one of the enforcers walk past you, you look them up and down by their attire before your brows furrowedâ something felt wrong.
Heading into the crowd you lock gazes with vi, the both of you nodding towards one another before following the enforcer. But another person caught your attention as well, making you turn around and face the other way.
âThe hell..?â You whisper lowly.
You push past the crowd of civilians as your hips sway when walking, and you walked with a purpose.
To figure out who the hell these people were.
Walking over to the other enforcers you climbed over the railing, your thighs still hurting but of course you forgot to bring your crutches for support. But itâs whatever.
âWait, wait, maâam you canât--â
âExcuse me, Iâm an enforcer too.â You say firmly as your eyes narrowed at the man. âSo I can get pass, just like the rest of you.â
âWe canât even go in, so we canât let you in either.âone of the enforcers replies. âPlus, youâre still injured from the attack soâŚâ
Your piercing (e/c) eyes looked into the manâs brown ones, making his eyes widen a littleâ least to say, he was intimidated.
âMove, please,â you pleaded this time. âI feel like something is very wrong.â
Caitlyn looks over her shoulder and noticed the panicked look on your faceâ you would never randomly fuss about anything.
She knew something was wrong.
âAwful, isnât it?â
Jayce looks over his shoulder when he hears a womanâs voice.
âLosing a loved one.â
When Jayce slowly turns around, the woman slips off her mask as she grabs her chainsaw, swining it at Jayce who barely dodged out of the way quickly.
Everyone starts screaming and shouting, rushing off to find somewhere safe.
âGet all the civilians to safety.â You told the enforcers before turning around to go and find Jayce, your leg still hurting from the explosion. you couldnât walk around with a weak and injured leg but you thought against it.
âJayce!â You shouted, searching for him. âWhere are you? Jayce?!â
Someone suddenly slams you into a wall, making you hit the solid platform hard. A weak cry of pain escapes past your lips as you slid down the wall, clutching your arm.
Staggering to your knees, you rushed to get away from whatever was chasing you.
Get away, get away, get away
That was just going through your mind.
Something slashes in your back through your coat, âah!â You shriek as you collapsed to your knees and hit the ground. Back arched as you tried crawling away from whatever had attacked you.
They grab onto your hair, arm wrapping around your neck once they finally got the chance to turn you around, the air in your lungs seemed to have collapsed the second they tighten their large hand around your throat.
You kick and flail your legs around as you gasped for air, eyes heavy and face turning blue as you chokedâ the breath you were now trying to breathe was very toxic seeping into your nostrils and throat.
You use your fists to hit at the manâs hands, he watched with a sadistic grin on his lips as the life in your eyes were starting to fade.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the life in your eyes seemed to have been fading.
âGet the fuck away from her!â Vi shouted as she rushed towards the much bigger man and knocked him in the face with her knee.
You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as you clutched at your own throat.
Vi rushed over to you with concern, cupping your cheek as she leaned over you. âAre you okay? does anything hurt?â
âVi?â You croaked weakly, grasping at her wrist.
Vi presses your hand against her fast beating chest, concern wiping her features. âItâs me. Itâs me. youâre okay.â
She helps you up, âIâll be right back. go and try to find cait, okay?â
You nodded before rushing off to find caitlyn.
âCait!â You called out.
You couldnât even get as far before you hit the ground, passing out.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
#arcane#reader insert#swearing#fanfic#poly#Jayce#viktor#femalereader#spoilers#vi#caitlyn kiramman#jinx#ekko#x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#vi x caitlyn
160 notes
¡
View notes
Note
I don't know if this has already been asked before but has Stcmo Ford ever had to intervene in a world where Stanley took the journel(where that world's Ford wasn't sent through the portal) and planned for it to be the last thing he'd ever do before dying?
As he was trudging through the snow back to his car, Stan couldn't help but hear Ford's words play on an endless loop in his head, drowning out everything else. Stan had wanted so badly to shove the journal back at Ford after his brother had branded him, but he couldn't. Ford was right, he was always right.
So he kept the fucking diary and stormed out.
Ford didn't follow, so Stan must've said something about giving in to his brother's will before leaving, but he couldn't remember what had come out of his mouth. His head was swimming in a nauseating way as his shoulder screamed at him, his body shook violently with every gust of wind.
He already knew that he wasn't going far. He just needed to get to the car, then he'd burn the stupid fucking journal and drive himself off the nearest cliff. He was tired. So very tired and hungry and cold. He had dropped everything just to come when his brother called, hoping against all hope that maybe they could finally talk.
He should know better than to entertain hope by now.
He didn't even realize someone was in front of him until he literally ran into them, stumbling back with a curse as he clutched his arm, a new burst of pain surging through his shoulder. He blinked the black spots out of his vision, squinting at the weirdo who was wearing a flashy all-black getup in the middle of a blizzard.
He would've noticed that something was off sooner if he hadn't been so worn down.
But, as it stood, he heard a sharp twang before a bolt was rushing past his ear from behind. Stan stiffened, adrenaline flooding his body when Ford yelled at him, ordering him to run to his car and get out of town as fast as he could.
He took a total of three stumbling steps toward his car before an arm was curling around his throat, getting him into a firm headlock. The stranger wasn't choking him though, so small mercies. Actually, it seemed like the guy was actively avoiding his brand, which was weird because why would that matter if he was gonna take Stan hostage anyway?
Stan tried to hold on to the journal, he really did, but the asshole pulled it away from his icy fingers with ease. Stan choked on what might've been a sob, devastated that he had failed the one task that he'd been given. How did he manage to keep fucking everything up so spectacularly? He should've never been born.
"Stanley!" Ford shouted with no small amount of distress, clearly upset about his journal falling into the wrong hands on his front lawn. Stan couldn't look at him, couldn't bare to see the disappointment and anger that were surely coloring Ford's face right now.
"You can either have the journal or your brother." The stranger's voice carried over the howling wind, Stan's wide eyes darting to the book in the man's other hand with a sinking feeling in his gut. Stan already knew what Ford would pick, he had proved time and time again that he cared about his research more than he loved his brother.
"Let him go!" Ford seethed, the anger far more familiar to Stan, who finally braved a look at his brother. Ford was surprisingly close, only a few feet away with his crossbow loaded and aimed at the stranger. His expression was a mixture of terror and fury, his bloodshot eyes darting from Stan to the stranger several times.
He didn't look at the journal once.
"Is that your choice?" The stranger asked, the arm around Stan's neck slowly tightening, Stan's hands frantically prying at the dark fabric and flexing muscle with a pitiful wheeze that had Ford making an aborted movement toward him.
"Yes! Yes! I choose him!" Ford's voice cracked, face crumpling like he was about to burst into tears. Stan grit his teeth and swung his elbow down to bury it into the man's kidney, the grip on his neck loosening just enough that Stan could twist and punch the asshole right in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Stan lunged for the journal, wrenching it from the man's grip as he kicked the bastard's knee, hearing the joint pop out of place. The guy grunted in pain as he went down, Stan scrambling toward his brother, who had lurched forward to meet him. Stan couldn't see what was happening, but he heard another bolt fire and then Ford was dropping the weapon to grab at Stan.
"He's gone! He's gone! He left!" Ford gasped as he dragged Stan to his feet, using his body as a crutch to keep Stan upright as the two of them unsteadily made their way back to the shack. Stan's legs gave out on him as soon as they were inside, Ford slamming and locking the door behind them with an urgency that bordered on manic.
"Ford..." Stan panted, slumped against the wall, and Ford was beside him in the blink of an eye.
"What? What is it? Did he hurt you?" Ford asked in rapid-fire, shaking hands fluttering over his body. Stan caught one, Ford flinching at how cold Stan's hand was.
"I... the journal... I got it back." Stan said breathlessly, weakly raising his other hand to offer it to Ford, who looked stunned as he stared at it. Maybe he didn't think Stan would bother to grab it? Just how little did Ford trust him?
It was Stan's turn to be speechless when Ford took the journal from him and carelessly set it aside before he was back to fussing over Stan, who was too busy blinking dumbly to stop Ford from accidentally touching the brand while searching for wounds.
Stan cried out, hunching on on himself as Ford profusely apologized, scurrying away after assuring Stan that he'd be back with his first aid kit. Stan kept his head down as he nodded, teeth grit against the pain. He was used to waiting. Waiting for the millions to miraculously come pouring in, waiting for Ford to reach out first, waiting for his next meal, waiting for those rough hands to stop touching him.
Always waiting.
He heard Ford making a racket further in the house and decided that he could wait just a little longer.
#gravity falls#side quest#somebody to call my own au#ford pines#stan pines#stan and ford#stan twins#writing#ask box
171 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Between Shadows
Word Count: ~530 words
Summary: After a mission gone wrong in Zaun, youâre left injured and cornered until Vi and Caitlyn come to your rescue. Tensions rise as Caitlyn confronts you about your reckless choices, while Vi keeps things light, showing that despite the danger, they care deeply for you.
Warnings: Injury, implied violence, arguments, mild language, and high-stress situations.
The night in Zaun was thick with smog and tension. You pressed your back to the damp wall of an alley, catching your breath as your heart hammered in your chest. The job had gone southâbad intel, too many enforcers, and now you were stuck in the lower city with the risk of being caught at every corner.
But they were coming. Youâd sent the signal, a small mechanical flare that only Caitlyn would recognize. You could only hope she wasnât too late.
âDo you ever not get yourself into trouble?â
The voice made you whip your head around, but it was Vi, stepping out of the shadows with her signature gauntlets glinting in the faint light. Her smirk was as sharp as ever, though her eyes scanned you for injuries. âYou look like hell.â
âFeel like it too,â you muttered, slumping against the wall. âYou alone?â
âNot a chance,â Caitlyn said, emerging from behind Vi with her rifle slung across her back, her expression far less amused. âYouâre reckless. Do you realize how dangerous this was?â
âI didnât have a choice,â you argued, though you couldnât meet her piercing gaze. âIt wasnât supposed to go this way.â
Vi snorted, crossing her arms. âIt never is with you.â
Caitlyn shot her a look before stepping closer. She placed a gloved hand on your arm, her touch firm but not unkind. âWeâll talk about this later. For now, we need to move before someone notices us.â
You nodded, feeling the familiar tug of safety they brought, even in the chaos. âLead the way.â
The three of you moved through Zaun like shadows, Caitlyn keeping an eye out for patrols while Vi stayed close, her movements deliberate and protective. The tension between you and Caitlyn was palpableâshe was furious, but you could tell it came from worry more than anger.
It wasnât until you reached a safe house that she let her emotions surface. As Vi secured the door, Caitlyn turned to you, her arms crossed. âWhat were you even thinking? Do you have any idea how dangerous this city is right now?â
âI was trying to help,â you replied, your voice softer than you intended. âI didnât want to drag you into it.â
âThatâs not how this works,â she snapped, her voice tight with frustration. âWeâre a team, remember? You donât have to do this alone.â
Vi, leaning against the wall, interjected, her tone less sharp but just as firm. âSheâs right. You pull a stunt like that again, and weâre gonna have problems, got it?â
You looked between them, guilt settling in your chest. âIâm sorry. I⌠I just didnât want you to get hurt because of me.â
Caitlynâs expression softened, and she stepped closer, her hand brushing yours. âYou donât get it, do you? Weâd rather be in the middle of the danger with you than safe without you.â
Vi grinned, pulling you into a light, one-armed hug. âYeah, so stop being stupid. We like having you around.â
Despite everything, you couldnât help but smile. âYou two are insufferable.â
âGood,â Vi said with a wink. âGuess that makes us a perfect match.â
#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#arcane#vi arcane#vi x y/n#caitvi#caitvi x reader#vi x caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#lesbian#wlw post#wlw blog#sapphic
146 notes
¡
View notes
Text
that's why I'm so confused ab how i feel towards this scene.
1) the only ppl who know jinx was ab to kill herself was us, the audience. jinx has little to no sense of self-preservation in s1, in the eyes of Vi she's reckless, but she haven't mentioned killing herself of made a movement like that as far as Vi knows. she had made the movement accepting death but not having death by her own hands, which are different things. so in some way, yes, there's reason for Vi taking that as Jinx saying "go and be happy and I'm going away". Vi's reaction, in my interpretation, is about her sister going away for good, as far as she knows, but not killing herself. hell, I'm not gonna lie, i wasn't immediately thinking she was talking about killing herself either. so it's so fucking annoying the ppl who are seriously saying that "Vi let her sister to kill herself" bc it's a matter of what the characters know (it's s1ep3 finale all over again and somehow y'all still put the blame on Vi entirely) and could/couldn't do (we have no way to know this was 5min later as far as we know it could've been 1h later)
2) what i don't enjoy is the lack of enough conversation between Cait and Vi. bc yes, it's not about singleminded trying to get Jinx anymore, Caitlyn is saying she's not there anymore, she's done with Jinx for good. that's implied/clear enough. what it's not clear is how the fuck did she just let a terrible enough situation become worse and just goes "well i was mourning". of course you were - but so MOST PPL AROUND ZAUN FOR DECADES. the writing here is shallow. it's not only a matter of what Caitlyn did, it's about what Caitlyn allowed to make worse. it didn't start with her and it won't finish with her, and season 1 makes it clear that Vi knows this well enough to let herself grow more and more fond of Caitlyn, while holding accountable the fact that the ppl currently leading Piltover aren't trying to do enough. they had a point and they ignored it in order to make the issue of Caitlyn seem less than it actually is.
3) finally, if this wasn't happening inside a fucking prison cell i would be way less thorned. sorry, you're (the writers) telling me this is better than, idk on Caitlyn's bed after a scene of them both maybe having a shower together while Caitlyn washes off the dry blood in Vi's wounds, clean her hurt knuckles? there's the oil and water/water and blood imagery right there, and y'all just decided to throw that out of the window?
anyway, stop blaming Vi for what she didn't know and/or couldn't do. and the writers dismissed Vi's trauma and Caitlyn's action's real impact.
The sex scene could only happen after these conditions:
1) Jinx telling Vi she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn
2) Caitlyn letting go of her singleminded mission to capture/punish Jinx
Vi as a character has ALWAYS been torn by the division between Jinx and Caitlyn. The narrative has always demanded that she choose only of them and she has always refused. Always loving both of them, always trying to keep both of them in her life.
But after those scenes, the two loves of her life, the two halves of her heart werenât pulling her in different directions anymore. Now both of them were leading her to the same destination: allowing herself happiness.
#arcane#arcane s2 spoilers#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane spoilers#vi arcane#jinx arcane#caitlyn kiramman#caitvi#piltover's finest#violyn#arcane season two#arcane season 2
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
đđđ đđđ ⧠đ
. đ.
pairing: drew starkey x f!reader
warnings: miscarriage but its so fluffy yall :((
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this is so shitty yâall iâm sorry djfjdk
pls he looks so cute here
when you said you wanted him to enjoy the moment with his family, he thought it was strange, but he didnât argue. youâve always understood how close he is to his family, and this moment in his career is important, you want him to celebrate with his parents, siblings, and closest friends.
youâve only been together for a short time, and youâre not close enough to his family to be at family gatherings, you donât want to make anyone uncomfortable.
âwe can celebrate later, just you and me.â you said, sealing your promise with a kiss, before you left his apartment, three days ago.
drew found it strange, but he thought you were just giving him space, which he appreciated. after a lot of family celebration, he went to your place, ready to spend at least a whole weekend, which you loved. thereâs so much to talk about.
when you think about it, you didnât think this thing with drew would go as far as it has been, because his schedule is chaotic and so is yours. when you first met, he was about to go to morocco to shoot outer banks, but he kept texting, calling.
âi know this is kinda all over the place right now, but i wanna see where this is going. do you?â
âi do.â
and that was it. you knew then and there, with only three weeks of dating (online dating for the most part), that you were in love. heâs so sweet, and so silly, too. somehow, you trust him. after being let down so many times, heâs made you feel safe from day one.
youâre not scared to tell him.
youâre on your bed, just waiting for him to get out of the shower. youâre barely paying attention to the tv, youâre just mindlessly scrolling through reels on your instagram, just waiting.
he comes out, shirtless, with damp hair and wearing the sluttiest thing a man can wear - black boxers that fit him just right. heâs such a beautiful man.
âdâyou wanna take a picture?â he jokes when he catches you staring.
âyou do it on purpose, donât you?â
âof course i do.â
he gets under the covers and immediately latches onto you, resting his head on your chest. all he really wants is to feel you near him. it turns out, he wanted you with his family. he wanted you there, he wanted to properly introduce you to his loved ones, but maybe youâre not ready and heâll give you all the time you need.
âiâve missed you so much,â he says, his voice muffled by your skin.
you smell like french vanilla, and he loves that scent on you. he delights himself in your touch, when your nails lightly scratch his scalp and the nape of his neck.
âiâve missed you, too. very much.â
he smiles against your skin and takes a long, deep breath, finally allowing his body to relax.
âum⌠so, i was kind of wanting to talk to you.â you say, trying to sound calm. well, you are calm, but you are also just a tad nervous.
he sits up, no longer relaxed.
âwhat is it?â
you sigh, look down and extend your hands, as a silent request for his. drew understands and places his hands on yours. your face is serene, but he can tell something is wrong.
âbabe, tell me. i knew something was wrong, you were too distant these last couple of weeks.â
you chuckle - you canât hide anything from this man.
âiâm gonna preface it by saying that i am okay, i am fine, but something did happen, and iâve debated whether or not i should tell you, and i thought that you deserve to know.â
âyouâre scaring me.â
âno, please, itâs⌠itâs okay. just let me say it all first and then you can speak, okay?â drew doesnât respond, but you take his silence as a nod. âso, a few weeks ago, i was taking a shower and felt a weird abdominal pain, and then there was blood. i wasnât on my period, so i got a bit scared and went to the hospital. i had a few tests done and found out⌠umâŚâ you trail off, because this is surprisingly hard to talk about. he lightly squeezes your hands, encouraging you to keep going. âi had a miscarriage.â
oh.
wait.
what?
âa miscarriage?â
âi didnât know. the doctor explained that it was common for women to have a miscarriage before even knowing they were pregnant.â
drew is quiet, absorbing the whole information. you were pregnant, and didnât even know it. you had a miscarriage and he wasnât there for you.
âwhy didnât you tell me? i wouldâve taken the first flight back to be here with you.â
âi know you would, thatâs why i didnât.â you explain, kissing the back of his hand right after. âalso, i needed to figure it out by myself first. i was shocked to learn through a miscarriage that i was pregnant. it was a lot to process.â
âi canât even imagine. but⌠how are you now?â
âiâm okay, i promise. i have one last appointment next week.â
âiâll go with you.â
âokay. thatâd be great, actually.â
he sighs, a bit relieved. at least youâre okay.
âi thought you should know because, well, i was pregnant. and if nothing had happened, i would still be pregnant, and i know itâs early, we havenât talked about these things and iâm not pressuring you to do or say anything, but i still wanted you to know. felt really wrong to keep this from you.â
âno, you did the right thing.â he says, kissing the back of your hand. âiâm just sorry you went through all of this alone.â
âitâs okay, though. i wanted you to be the first person to know. and maybe the only one. i donât think we should tell anyone else about this. like, itâd be just⌠pointless.â
âright. but, uh, if you do want to talk about kids, we can.â
âoh?â
âi mean⌠iâve thought about it.â he admits. âiâm the eldest of the family, my mom has already started asking me for grandbabies, she says liliana needs a cousin.â you giggle. âbut at the same time, the life i live today wouldnât be possible with a kid, if iâm honest. i barely have time to sleep, let alone raise a child, and if iâm meant to have kids, i want to be there.â
âwhen i would think about children, i thought about pregnancy and how i needed to avoid it like the plague during my teenage years,â you laugh. âeven when some of my friends got pregnant, i never really saw myself in their position, you know? i guess it wasnât a priority for me, and still isnât, but⌠iâm not ruling it out.â
âiâm not either.â
âso⌠thereâs that.â you shrug, relieved that it all went well. âthank you for listening, i was a bit nervous.â
he nods, completely enchanted by you. he wishes he could navigate difficult topics the way you do. so natural, so easy. you seem to have your shit together and heâs so jealous of that.
âyou can always tell me anything.â
âi know.â
âif something like this happens again, tell me. i donât want you to go through anything bad alone ever again, okay?â
you nod, letting him hug you. oh, you love him.
âweâll have plenty of time to talk about it and other stuff, too.â
i love feedback! let me know what you think!
#my writings#drew starkey#drew starkey oneshot#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x you
141 notes
¡
View notes
Text
â đđđđ đđđđ đđđđđ â
đđđđđđđđ
âMommy! Mommy!â Teddy darts through the open door leading out onto the patio, his muddy feet leaving prints all over the floor as he rushes into the kitchen. Youâre just about to tell him off for being so inconsiderate, does he cling to your leg, burying his face in your thigh. âMommy! He hit me!â Teddy whines, lifting his head just in time to catch Beomgyu blasting through the door as well, his shoes equally dirty as he, too, drags mud all over the place.Â
He stops not far from the two of you, a frown on his face as he pants lightly. âHey! Thatâs a load of bullââ He coughs, clearing his throat, âA bunch of nonsense, is what I was gonna say.â â You shake your head, trying to hide the small grin on your face. âI told you not to play fight too hard with him, wait until he grows a littleâ, you hum, caressing the top of Teddyâs head.Â
Your son peers up at you with a petulant pout, âI am grown up mom! But daddy plays unfair!â Teddy sends a notâso-threatening glare Beomgyuâs way, to which he scoffs, folding his arms across his chest. âHe started itâ, Beomgyu then states, pointing an accusing finger toward his son.Â
Teddy sticks out his tongue, prompting his very immature dad to do the same as they have a silent stand off in the middle of the kitchen. Eventually they turn to you, both with expectant expressions, as if awaiting your verdict. âWell?â Beomgyu says, and Teddy grips your jeans tighter. You shake your head, stifling a small chuckle. âI thinkâŚâ Your gaze drops to the muddy footprints across the tiled floor, âThat this room could use some mopping.âÂ
Both your son and Beomgyu are quick to follow your line of sight, their eyes widening as they spot the mess they had so inevitably caused. Beomgyu is the first to speak, clearing his throat as he beckons Teddy over. âLetâs go back outsideâ, he mouths to which his son eagerly nods. â Without giving you the opportunity to question them, they dart out of the house just as quickly as they had rushed in.Â
You shouldâve seen it coming, the play fighting, the mischief and the bickering. They were so alike. Yet you canât find it in you to hold them accountable for the mess on the kitchen tiles. Instead you brush said thought away, approaching the patio doors as you lean against its frame. â Your small garden is basked in the warm afternoon light, the sun making the brown in both Beomgyu and Teddyâs eyes shine as they wrestled one another out on the grass.Â
Not only had your son found himself a loving father, but also a best friend. Someone he could be himself with, someone he could learn from and someone he could lean on. Beomgyu was just the father Teddy needed. You realize now, as you regard them from afar, that Beomgyu was exactly what had been missing in both of your lives up until now. Part of you wonders if you were what had been missing in his.Â
Watching in amusement as they trip over one another, Beomgyu quickly scooping Teddy into his arms at any signs of discomfort from him. â It was with great tenderness that Beomgyu cared for his son, the love radiating off of him whenever they were near. You wish he could see himself, see his own smile and how much Teddy looked up to him, his daddy.Â
The sound of the doorbell grabs your attention, and a faint grin creeps onto your face. âBoys! Come back inside, Teddy, your uncles are here!âÂ
The two of them freeze mid fight, their heads snapping in your direction. âUncle Yeonjun and uncle Taehyun?â Teddy exclaims, beaming with joy as he quickly untangles himself from his dad. You nod, âAnd uncle Soobin and uncle Kaiâ, you add, to which your son jumps to his feet. âI love uncle Kai!â He squeals, particularly fond of the youngest. Before you get the chance to reply, heâs running off, ready to greet your guests.Â
âNot more than me though?â Beomgyu calls out for him, still seated on the grass as he watches his sonâs retreating figure. âRight?â When he doesnât receive an answer he sighs. You canât hide the giggle bubbling in your chest as he approaches with slumped shoulders. âReplaced so soon?â You drawl, parting a few strands of his disheveled hair.Â
Beomgyu scoffs, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you close. âOf course notâ, his gaze narrows down the hall, the soft chatter of the otherâs just barely reaching your ears. âIn what universe would any of them replace me?â â âOh, youâd be surprisedâ, your reply is laced with sarcasm but Beomgyu still flashes you a pout. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â He says.Â
Shaking your head, you bring his face level with your own, lips hovering above his. âNothingâ, you smile before leaning in to kiss him. You can feel his smirk against your lips, the hand around your waist slipping beneath the fabric of your loose shirt. â Neither of you register the soft padding of footsteps until Teddyâs high-pitched shout echoes through the room.Â
âEw, gross!â
70 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I'D PICK HER OVER ME â james fleamont potter
note: I do not own any of the characters in harry Potter except for the plot in this small fic. This is purely made for entertainment purposes as well as cuz I am craving for some angst.
warnings!: mentions of death, angst
__________________
James was tired, he really was.
Being a single father was hard, plus being an auror for the ministry. His schedule from his work as well as being a father at the same time was harder than the war that had just ended four years ago.
James sighed in exhaustion as he covered his eyes with his arm while laying on his bed. He had just came back from a meeting in the ministry that ended two hours ago. The meeting ended very late and he hadn't had the time to rest until earlier before waking up in cold sweat.
James had nightmares. It was always the same.
Getting paralyzed by a spell, watching his wife get killed by a dark curse, his son almost dying but some miracle happened and the curse thrown at him was rebounded towards the killer, and repeat. All the same thing, every night.
So James did the only thing that helped him everytime it happened. Sitting up as he groaned, he began to stand up to walk towards downstairs and to the kitchen. Arriving at the location, he began to brew tea. Normally when he was still in his adolescence, he would drink firewhiskey to cope with the war, but now he settled for tea that he added a teaspoon of honey to cope with his loss.
It was what his wife always had whenever she was stressed, tea with a bit of honey. Something he never understood why that preference until now.
"Papa?" A timid voice of a young boy called out to James making him snap out of his daze.
"Yes, Harry?" James said to his son. Harry was a four year old boy, unruly brown hair like his father, circular black glasses on his face because of the poor eyesight he gained from his father. He was practically the carbon copy of James Potter but the only thing different is his son's eyes. It was his mother's, the only woman James had ever loved.
"Where's Mama?" Harry questioned. The air stilled but the small child was oblivious of it. It was a very sensitive topic but it is not a taboo. With sharp intake of breath, James knelt down to his son's height, putting his hand on his shoulder as he fixed his gaze on Harry's.
"Your mother." James started as he paused for a moment to think of a sentence to explain why his mother is gone. "Is in a far away land, at the moment."
"But why so far?"
"Because, Harry, she is trying to protect us from something and she needs to go away for a while." That's it, James. The father encouraged himself. He's still young, tell him when he is old enough. He continued these thoughts as he looked at his son's thoughtful expression.
"Will she come back?"
Silence. There was no answer to that question as James embraced his son in his arms, brows furrowed as tears were threatening to fall from its sockets. The truth was, his mother was not gonna come back but how could he tell that to his four year old son?
Finally having set his son to bed, James took one last glance to Harry before going downstairs to sit on the couch of the living room. The honey-tea has long gone cold as he sat in front of the fire that was slowly dwindling. James stared blankly at it as his thoughts were loud but at the same time quiet.
If only you were here.
"If I could pick on who would survive that day, I would've picked you." James muttered to himself out loud, quietly sniffling his tears that slowly fell on his cheeks to his hands.
"Because you would've known what to do.."
The crying of a baby echoed through the house in Godric's Hollow. The scene showed a master bedroom, two bumps could be seen under sheets of the bed. As the cry continued, one of the figures moved.
"Fuck.."
A deep male's voice cursed out as he sat up, not being able to fall asleep now because of the noise. Another voice moaned out from being awaken from the movement of the man.
"I'll take care of him, love. Just continue sleeping." The man coaxed to his wife beside him who blinked at him to ask if he's sure.
"You sure?"
"Yea, you sleep and I'll tend, yea?" With that, the woman went back to her dreams as the man carefully unravels himself from the sheets before walking out the bedroom to the nursery.
"Shh, it's okay, Harry. I got you, bud." He said the moment he took Harry from the crib and coaxed him in his arms. The man was James Potter, the leader of the band of misfits, Marauders is now a father. The one thing he never knew he would be with the war going on.
Harry, the baby, now stopped his fussing and opened his eyes that he got from his mother to stare at his father. Smiling widely, he giggled and tried to reach for James' hair.
"Hey now, not the hair you little twit."
"Do not curse at our child, James Fleamont Potter." A stern melodic voice spoke out from behind the father who flinched as James chuckled sheepishly.
"I'm not...." James trailed off as he looked everywhere but his wife, who rolled her eyes.
"I swear, I can't leave you alone for one second with Harry." You scolded your husband with a slight slap on his arm making him grin at you.
"You love me!" James teased to which you rolled your eyes again.
"Unfortunately." You said while grabbing Harry out of his hands and propping him up on your hip.
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
James leaned against the door frame of the kitchen as he wore a pink apron with a giant cute teddy bear printed on its front, courtesy of Sirius saying it was to look husband material and James agreeing to it because he was told it was husband material, he was listening to you humming a small song to Harry as you kept him occupied by holding up a toy on your son's face.
James was cooking up lunch because he wanted you to rest and let him handle household chores while you occupy your son. It was the least he could do for you as the war lead both of you into hiding your son from the Dark Lord because of a prophecy. He knew you wanted to spend more time with Harry before the worse happens, so he did all the chores while you spend your time with your child, even after so many of your refusals.
James smiled in content as well as fondness as he watched the both of you. How could he have such a wonderful family with how arrogant and stupid he was when he was a teen. He didn't think he deserved such thing after being such a prejudice prick towards Slytherins.
"Take Harry and run!" James yelled out to you as he tried to push the Dark Lord back even if it was just for a delay. He couldn't let him get to both of you, you're all that he had left.
Successfully stunning the Dark Lord, James then ran upstairs to be with you and Harry. It was the only thing he could do to help you run away before the Dark Lord catches up. Unfortunately, James underestimated the Dark Lord's recovery from a stunning hex. The moment James arrived at the doorframe of the nursery of where you were, he fell paralyzed by the spell the Dark Lord had thrown at him.
"No.." James mumbled as his eyes went wide in horror. He kept chanting the word like a mantra as he helplessly watched the scene in front of him. His mumbles becoming screams as he sobbed heavily. Sweat dripped from his forehead as his face turned red, eyes squinting, brows furrowing hard as tears kept flowing down like a waterfall from his reddening eyes.
No...not my family..
Not the one I just built..
Please don't do this to me..
A green light blinded the whole room as a loud thump echoed the room. Silence overlapped as the Dark Lord grinned viciously. James' brown eyes stilled as he watched the limped lifeless body of the woman he was proud to say was his, the love of his life, the mother of his son, his wife, you.
James was not spared from tragedy as he now watched his son getting cursed by the Dark Lord before he stared in disbelief as the curse rebounded and hit the one who casted it. Watching as a lightning bolt of a cut appeared on his son's forehead.
But the moment he was free from his trap, he screamed in agony, not from his wounds, but from the death of his love.
"Now, Harry. If I could choose on who would've lived between me and your mother." James said to his son who was now in his teen, sixteen, as they stood in front of a gravestone. A familiar name etched in the stone.
[ Your Name ] Potter
[ Birthdate ] â October 31st, 1981
"In loving memory of a great friend, sister, mother, and wife."
"I'd pick her over me."
"Why?"
"Because, she would've known what to do."
#aaron taylor johnson#aaron taylor johnson x reader#james potter x reader#harry potter#james potter#angst#light angst#james potter x you#james potter x y/n
65 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Family Business
Summary: An evening where Lando and his wife recognise themselves in their children.
Genre: Mafia!Dad!Lando, fluff
TW: None
A/N: I have like so many stories in my drafts and just post them because why not? English is not my first language! I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Should I make a series out of this?
Masterlist
The grand villa was alive with laughter and warmth, an unusual sight for a house belonging to one of the most feared mafia families in Europe.
Lando Norris, heir to the Norris empire, sat at the head of the massive dining table, a glass of red wine in hand. The glow of the chandelier above reflected in his sharp eyes, but there was a softness to him tonight.
To his left sat you, his wife, the polar opposite of his ruthless world.
Where he ruled with strategy and precision, you led with compassion and kindness. You had a unique ability to bring light to the dark corners of his life, and tonight was no exception.
You were serving dessert yourself, much to the dismay of the staff.
âMadam, please,â Maria, the head of the kitchen, protested. âThis is our job.â
âOh, nonsense,â you said with a warm smile, placing a plate of chocolate cake in front of one of the guards. âYou all work so hard. Let me treat you for once.â
Lando watched you with a mixture of amusement and adoration. The hardened men who feared his orders like gospel melted under your kindness, mumbling grateful thanks as you handed out plates.
Across the table, your children were mid-debate.
âNo, no, you donât get it,â Amelia, your ten-year-old daughter, argued, her small hands slamming the table for emphasis. âPapaâs the coolest. Heâs strong, and smart, and everyone listens to him. Iâm gonna be just like him!â
Lando smirked at that, leaning back in his chair. âIs that so, Amelia?â
âYup!â She nodded confidently, her dark curls bouncing. âIâll run the family business one day. Better than you, even.â
âAmbitious,â Lando said, raising his glass in mock salute. âI like it.â
Your eight-year-old son, Jacob, rolled his eyes. âYouâre all so dramatic. Mamaâs the best. Sheâs nice to everyone, and she doesnât yell like Papa.â
Lando raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. âI donât yell.â
âYou yelled at Uncle Carlos last week,â Jacob pointed out.
âThat was a strategic discussion,â Lando replied, struggling to keep a straight face.
You laughed, shaking your head as you returned to your seat. âJacobâs right. You do yell.â
Amelia crossed her arms, glaring at her brother. âYouâre too soft, Jacob. How are you supposed to run the business if you canât even scare anyone?â
âI donât want to run the business,â Jacob said matter-of-factly, stabbing his fork into his cake. âIâm going to be a veterinarian.â
âA vet?â Amelia wrinkled her nose. âThatâs boring.â
âAmelia,â you chided gently. âItâs not boring if itâs what Jacob wants. Besides, being kind is just as important as being strong.â
Amelia huffed, but your words sank in.
Lando observed the exchange quietly, marveling at the balance you brought to their lives.
Later that evening, after the kids had gone to bed, you and Lando sat on the terrace overlooking the gardens. The night air was cool, and the stars were scattered across the sky like diamonds.
âSheâs got your fire, that one,â you said, leaning against Landoâs shoulder.
âAnd heâs got your heart,â Lando replied, lacing his fingers with yours. âWeâre raising a mini us, you know.â
You laughed softly. âIs that a good thing?â
Lando kissed the top of your head. âThe best thing.â
For a moment, the world outside the villaâhis world of deals, betrayals, and shadowsâfelt far away.
Here, with you, with his children, he was simply Lando. A man who had everything heâd ever wanted, and more than he thought he deserved.
As the staff cleared the dining room below, they whispered among themselves, as they always did.
About how Mr. Norris was terrifying, yes, but also fiercely devoted to his wife.
About how Madam Norris made their lives better with her warmth and generosity.
About how the children were growing into reflections of their parentsâAmelia, bold and determined, and Jacob, gentle and kind.
It wasnât a typical mafia family, no. But it was theirs. And that was more than enough.
Thank you for reading!
#lando x reader#lando x you#lando imagine#lando norris#mafia!lando#f1 mafia au#f1 x reader#f1#dad!lando#fluff
88 notes
¡
View notes
Note
MEOW!!! can you make anya x fem reader and maybe there ice skating??? Xp
âĄANYA X FEM!READERâĄ
SUMMARY : skating with Anya.
WARNINGS : fluff.
WORD COUNT : 749
Click "Keep reading" for more!âĄâ
Winter has come, the cold weather coating the area around your town, snowflakes falling from the dim sky.
You hadn't planned anything for today, laying on your bed bored as usual. 'Wait didn't Anya plan something?..' You thought.
Rolling to your side, taking your phone that rested on the nightstand, scanning the messages. With a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs.
You closed your device. Standing on your feet and making your way to the bathroom. Anya had planned something, a new skating rink had just opened and she wanted to skate with you.
Being the self-conscious person you are, you were hesitant. You had no idea how to skate but Anya assured you that she was gonna help you out, so you agreed to go.
Taking a quick shower, you did your usual routine and got dressed before heading out.
Now, standing outside the skating rink, covered in layered clothes, you watched as people went in and out. Scanning the area with your eyes, you had hoped to find a familiar face.
Unbeknownst to you, someone had snuck behind you, lowering their head level to yours they whispered.
"Boo..."
You screeched, whipping your head behind you found no other than Anya who had a smug expression covering her face.
"Wh- ha- why would you do that?!..." You whisper-yelled, a chuckle leaving your throat.
Anya stared at you with a sly grin, "no reason, just wanted to scare you.." She grinned before wrapping her arm around you. Guiding you towards the rink, putting on your ice skates you stepped inside the rink (with the help of Anya of course)
It was.. Slippery, no surprise. You were quite nervous, your hold on Anya becoming tighter.
"So... How do I do this exactly?.." You looked down at your feet then Anya. The black-haired woman chuckled at you before setting her hands on your waist.
You placed your hands on her shoulders as Anya's voice began to guide you.
It was difficult, but you tried your best to mirror her movements. Little by little, you were doing good.
Seeing your progress, Anya thought it was a good a idea to let you skate by your own. She detached herself from you. Her pace faster than before, skating away from you.
She stopped, standing not too far from you. With a shit eating grin, she opened her arms, hinting for you to skate towards her.
"You look like you could skate on your own for now.." She stated, looking at you with her droopy eyes, and a smirk.
That damn smirk.
You stared at her in disbelief. For a regular skater, the distance didn't seem much, but as a beginner, it looked like a long path.
"You..." You grumbled. Taking a deep breath, you tried to skate towards your friend. You were wobbly, but you were getting closer to her.
You were happy, just as you were about to grasp her hand, she pulled away.
That's when you realized what game she was playing with you, what a bastard.
Your feet were gliding on the ice, skating closer to Anya she kept pulling away.
While you grew frustrated, Anya's smirk grew.
You were mentally screaming, you've had enough!
It's as if your legs were moving on their own, your pace became faster as you chased after your friend.
Little by little, you were getting used to it. Sliding the blades on the icy surface, looking back at Anya, she was smiling at you.
Looking down at your feet one last time, you took a breather. 'Come on..'. As your blades led you front, you spend up, finally catching up with Anya.
"Gotcha!" You grinned, getting ahold of her. You both had a good laugh at that, realizing your position, you felt flustered.
Your face was close to Anya's, not too far from each other. You looked down, cowering away from your friend's stare.
Seeing the state you were in, Anya sighed. "Let's get something to drink, kay?.."
The night grew colder. A paper cup in your hands as you rested your head on Anya's shoulder, her arm draped over your figure.
It was a silent moment that both of you had enjoyed. You shifted your head to look at Anya, her expression calm as ever.
Looking back at the sky, you snuggled closer into your friend, enjoying the warmth radiating from her body. Anya's hold on you tightened, enjoying your company.
"Say, wanna do this again?.."
"Mhm..."
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x fem reader#mouthwashing anya#anya mouthwashing#anya#mouthwashing anya x reader#anya x reader#anya x fem reader#fluff#mouthwashing fanfiction#mouthwashing fandom#mouthwashing fanfic#đđđđđđđđďšââĄđ¤
68 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I know there are only so many ways to phrase the insight "Tsar Nicholas II has no idea what he was doing" in a way that makes it interesting, but I do wonder what the endgame of Nicholas and the reactionaries really was in Russia in the 1900s and 1910s. Let's say he's right about everything: let's say orthodoxy, autocracy, and nationality can work as an ideology, that the Tsarist state isn't a creaking old half-rotted machine that has embarrassingly poor capacity (and stops abruptly above the local level relevant to 75% of the population), let's say all your loyal-but-reformist-ministers like Witte and Stolypin are wrong, conditions are fine, this agitation really is the pernicious influence of foreigners and Jews, and "true Russians" (whatever that means) really do love you.
You still got your ass kicked by the Japanese, you still rule a country which is embarrassingly poor given its size and population, your tiny middle class still has very little capital to invest in industry because all the surplus is getting hoovered up by your nobles and you, personally. Russia, as a military and economic engine to which your family's fortunes are irrevocably yoked (unless you abdicate and go into exile, which we all know you won't), is still well behind other European great powers, and the next big war you fight against a peer nation is going to go even worse than the one with Japan, if it happens in your backyard--which is inevitable, because you are playing great power politics like you are the German Kaiser, and not the Russian Tsar.
So what is your endgame? Stagnate forever? I guess this is demanding too much from a man who genuinely thought God was on his side, who was totally out of touch with the events of the day, and whose interest in the affairs of state far outstripped his understanding of those affairs. But there were a lot of reactionaries in Russia in those days, who seemed to share Nicholas's passion for stasis and autocracy. And no matter how many anti-semitic conspiracies you fund in occupied Poland, it's not gonna keep the Prussians at bay come 1914! And it's not like he didn't have a ton of loyal ministers who were 1000% on board with a strong monarchy and who also had clever ideas on how to improve state capacity and expand industry.
57 notes
¡
View notes