#this game inadvertently changed my life

[anemoisoap]

[taeslarityy]

dirty laundry ༄ dave york one shot (18+)

-> pairing: dark dave york x female reader

-> word count: 2.8k

-> summary: it’s a hot august week at the york’s lake house, which also happens to be the week you and your husband got married one year ago. your father in law — dave york — finds you changing in the laundry room and decides to give you a celebration of his own.

-> warnings/tags: father-in-law dave york, infidelity, dubcon, NON-CON, age gap (reader is 21, dave is nearing 50), SMUT 18+, heavy degradation(whore, slut, bitch), humiliation, dumbification, unprotected piv, sir kink, rough face-fucking, forced creampie, talk of pregnancy, reader is under the impression that she endures forced impregnation, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, semi naive reader, dave is not a cutesy nice man in this.. he honestly has no concern for readers feelings or pleasure. so please, if themes like dubious consent + non-con + blatant cheating are not ur forte, protect ur peace and scroll away!!

-> a/n: okay okay hiiiii. when i decided to participate in @hellishjoel ‘s #hotdilfsummerchallenge, i had a few ideas in mind. one happened to be this! but i felt more comfortable writing for joel and was confident in what i had planned. basically, this is opposite of that. no fluff or happy ending.. or even happy anything. so i wanted to share! thanks again kylee for letting me participate <3 and thank you to my beloved dearest @sweetpascal for aiding me yet again, i love u 🤍

let me know your thoughts!

DARK CONTENT BELOW: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME.

A huge part of growth, means acknowledging your mistakes.

When you failed your first semester of college, you knew it was from lack of trying and partying six days a week. So, you studied more and partied four days a week instead. When you slammed your brand new Mercedes into a flag pole, you knew it was from scrolling on Instagram which caused you to push accelerate rather than stop. So, you never went on your phone while driving again.

When you fell in love your sophomore year and decided to get married at twenty, you knew it was because you needed the well-off grad school bachelor, Daniel York. So, inadvertently, you settled. Now, a year later, you're sobbing in his family’s lake house bathroom because he somehow forgot that tonight was the eve of your wedding anniversary.

You feel like a complete and utter idiot. And for once in your life, you just might be. Staring at your reflection, you examine your appearance. You look effortlessly amazing today, after spending the day out on the boat. Hair, body and face all faintly sun-kissed. Your skin freshly shaved, legs and arms lathered in your favorite oil.

This was your final attempt to see if Daniel would stare at you with the same look of admiration he had so long ago. Your first attempt to ask him about starting your own family. Tonight was the night, and you were determined.

Briefly peeking out of the guest bathroom and down the hall, you decide you can rush into the laundry room only a few doors down. Everyone should seemly be downstairs, finishing up a game of Monopoly. You had the pleasure of winning two games in a row, pissing of the frightfully competitive York family. That’s when you decided to call it a night and head up to get ready for bed — bidding everyone a goodbye as you kissed your husband atop his head.

Wrapping your robe securely around your waist, you make your way towards the closed door and enter just as the dryer sings the most obnoxious 45 second tune that confirms the load is finished. Rich people shit, you mutter to yourself. Grabbing your bikini and sundress to hang up first, then laying out a sheer white silk sleeping dress with baby blue lace trim.

Looking back at the closed door, you conclude you should be fine to just throw it on before laying yourself out on your shared bed. Ready for your husband to see you so open and willing to be used by him. As your robe falls to your feet, a slight creek fills the silent space.

Whipping your head back and grabbing the nearest towel to cover yourself, you're met with an alluring glare from your husbands own dad. Your father-in-law, Dave York.

"Dave wha- what are you doing?" You question with a panic laced tone. Completely thrown off by the way he's leaning against the now locked door, hands in his wrinkle-free perfectly fitted black work slacks. His lack of response is louder than the faint trickle from the utility sink your bare-ass is pressed against.

Dave saunters over to you, his pristinely polished shoes clinking heavily with every step despite the minimal weight he's using. It's a commanding presence, shows how he doesn't have to storm over to establish authority. His handsome body towers over you and the faint hairs on your spine rapidly rise at the feeling of his warmth nearing your own naked body. Aside from the small washcloth that covers your crotch and arm across your heavy tits.

His veiny calloused wedding ring-wearing hand reaches next to you, finding the lace on your nightgown satisfyingly soft.

"Look at this, angel. Did you plan on wearing it for my inconsiderate son?" He remarks, looking into your wide eyes as his fingers continue to twist and feel at a piece of clothing that is filling you with an overbearing amount of embarrassment.

"I d- you weren't supposed to see that." The nervous confession brings a crooked grin to Dave's face.

"It's real pretty, just like you. Sexy even.... but I wouldn't waste my time putting something like this on for Daniel." Shaking his head at your frazzled state and utilizing that dismissive tone he does so well.

"W-why?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance at your innocent unknowing voice, Dave reaches a hand to slowly move your arm that's covering your plush chest. "Because, he left 10 minutes ago. Waved bye to me as I pulled into the driveway."

Now you're really fucking confused. Your husband never goes off without texting you to let you know, and why would he leave you alone at his parents home? Especially on the night prior to your anniversary.

"I don't understand. Did he tell you where he was going?" You probe at him, not processing the way his rough fingertips are skimming over your navel, up across your chest. Suddenly, you yelp as he pinches your pebbled nipple and grips under your adjacent perky breast. Your hand quickly grabs at his wrist, but he slaps it away — holding it at your waist.

"You really have nothing going on in that head of yours, huh? Just floating around being the perfect little wife for my son, is that right? Too stupid and blind to see that your husband cheats on you every living moment and only married you because you're nothing more than a sweet voice who’s gentle on the eyes." His painful out-of-pocket words paired with the twisting of your nipples has heavy tears brimming at your lashes. "Kind of him to make sure you're gentle on his old mans eyes too.... we always did share a type."

"Fuck you," you spit at him. You've never dared be rude to Dave, or anyone for that matter. But his condescending temper, sudden violations to your privacy paired with the already upsetting feelings you've been enduring today was a breaking point. As you rip your hand from his grasp prepared to rush out of the room, he grabs your throat in a vice grip. Landing a brutal smack on your cheek that causes your head to turn from the impact, just for him to use that same hand to yank your hair back to a straight position. Body now pressed against your own — you feel the washcloth protecting your femininity drop at your bare feet in terror.

"Hmm. Never heard you cuss before, sweetheart. Thought I taught my son to train his wife better than that."

A heavy tear streams down your now red swollen cheek, as you take in the hurtful message your father in law is clarifying. You're nothing but a piece of fuck meat, a trophy wife. But clearly not honored enough for your husband to use you. Humiliatingly, the way Dave's clothed body is up against your own, has your exposed cunt throbbing and leaking down your legs for him. You were good enough for Dave York, and that was an honor within itself.

"'M sorry," you murmur at the feel of his covered thigh spreading your leg and nudging into your soaked pussy.

Dave chuckles at your nearly cock drunk state, "haven't even touched you and your leaking on my dress pants. No wonder he keeps you around, you're just a perfect little slut willing to please."

"Y- yeaah," you sigh lightly humping his thigh, even though Dave didn't even ask a question. Something within you just wanted him to understand your body was his to use, despite both your sacred dedications to other partners. People so close to you. His son, your husband. Your mother-in-law, his wife.

He swiftly moves his thigh from between your legs, pinching your cheeks so they're puckered willing you to look at him with those glossed over doe-eyes he fucking leaks over. "Use that head and address me properly."

Your head swarms for a second, worried of his reaction to an incorrect title. Testing the waters, you whine, "yes, sir." The words muffled by the tight hold he has on your face.

With a sinister grin on his face, Dave pushes you down on the solid tile — hand still threaded through your hair to ensure your head movement is in his control.

"Look at that, your brain does work. Let's see about that mouth."

Yanking the zipper down, he pulls his semi-hard cock out and slaps it on your cheek, precum smearing slightly. As you eye his cock, you come to the realization that he's slightly bigger than his son at half mast, and you're gonna have to calm yourself to handle a monster like that.

"Are you gonna show me how good you take a cock down your throat? With those dick-sucking porn worthy lips?" Dave peers down at you. He has started to jerk himself to full length, his thumbs barely touching around his width.

"Yes, sir. I am."

The way your eyelids flutter up at him, so docile and unaware of just how vicious Dave intends to be on your needy body. It unlocks that fundamental primal male urge that he normally suppresses during sex.

"Open your mouth, bitch." As your tongue lolls out of your mouth obediently, a dribble of spit going down your chin to your neck to your tits gleams in the soft light. Dave grins as he stuffs two fingers in your mouth, touching at your sensitive uvula. You instantly attempt suppressing your rare gag reflex, body unprepared for his actions. "Nice job, knew you were meant to have your mouth filled."

Dave rips his fingers from you and smears the thick string of saliva across your face — slapping you across the face, rather gentle than before. As he grabs his cock and lines it up with your mouth, you inhale deeply. Seemly more aware of how Dave likes to be. Callous, straight-forward and dominant.

Before you can suck him into your mouth, Dave spits right on his cock — some of it landing on your moisturized lips — just to slam himself down your throat. Your eyes spring open looking up at him, polished hands gripping at his slack-covered thighs. You feel your left over slick on his right pant leg. The taste of his long day is heavy on your tongue as his balls nuzzle at your chin. You're overwhelmed with his scent. The hair at the base of his cock tickles your nose, stud piercing almost getting caught.

"Riiiight there, that's fucking it. What a real fucking whore."

Dave lets his head fall backwards, eyes on the ceiling as he feels you sputter around him, your spit dripping heavily down his balls and onto the tile between his legs. He's unsure on how long he looks upwards, until he feels the digging of your fingertips into him. When he looks down, your eyes are bulging — about to roll into the back of your skull. So he pulls off of you.

Your belligerent cough is almost too loud for comfort, so Dave jerks his cock and plops his full balls into your mouth. And like the eager girl you are, you suck them into your mouth. Licking at the seam between them, letting them bounce off of your tongue. You lick downwards, tonguing at his delicate perineum. That small but dirty act makes him groan loudly. Loud enough for someone on the second floor to hear.

Realizing he's getting too comfortable, he goes back to filling your mouth. Alternating between shallow fucking of the throat and just letting it bulge inside. His big hands wrapping around your neck to jerk himself through the thin hump of protruding skin.

When he hears the shrewd screech of his name from the mouth of his wife downstairs, he pulls out swiftly and yanks you up, hoisting your leg onto the counter. Prodding his cock head at your now unbelievably soaked entrance.

Your mind is hazy and disorientated concerning what's about to happen. You feel like you've barely had any time to process the fact that your father in law is treating you like a common street whore. So, when he pushes into you, a wailing shriek escapes you.

Dave slaps his heavy hand around your mouth from behind, pushing in balls deep but not before releasing a moan of his own.

"Better shut that mouth before I stuff something in there... good god. How is that cunt so damn tight? You're snug around me, guess you're not a slut after all. Tight pussy but loose throat, just how I like it."

Dave proceeds with his relentless thrusts into your aching cunt. You don't remember the last time you were filled so thoroughly. It makes you forget how fucked up this situation truthfully is.

As Dave's cock is slamming into your cervix over and over, you feel your lower stomach tightening. He feels it too. Dave has been holding in his orgasm since you first fell to your knees and gave him those fuck toy eyes. So before you can cum all over him, he grabs you by the neck from the front and puts your ear right by his mouth so he can relay his special message.

"My son told me you've been begging him for a baby... how sweet. You just wanna be a mama, huh? Or maybe, you think having one will fix your relationship. Just reminds me how stupid you are. If a kid could save a marriage, my wife and I would've been happy ever since she pushed that little shit out. But, I'm gonna make it even better for you, sweetheart...."

Dave pushes to the hilt as you cum around him, whimpering behind his hand. Eager to hear his words, simultaneously terrified.

"Gonna cum inside and get you pregnant myself."

You scream into his hand, trying to push him away from you, trying to get yourself away from his spearing cock. All your effort does is push him in deeper, your body going lax at how stuffed you are.

"Don't fight me, angel. Just take it..." You feel his warm cum spilling into you, your body quivering. "Good... so good. I already feel your body sucking up my cum.. eager for it. Eager to be round with your father in law's baby. What will it call me? Grand-dad?" He snickers into your ear as he releases your body. You just lay there, half your limp limbs hanging off the counter.

Dave watches his thick white liquid drip out of you, and down your inner thighs. He pats your ass and tucks himself back into his slacks.

"Don't worry too much. Daniel looks just like me, he'll never find out his kid is actually his half-sibling. That is unless you tell him. You want him to find out you were on your knees being a slut for his, daddy?" Dave questions you. You don't speak a word. Just staring at the piped detailing on the cupboard that holds all the scented detergents.

"Just go, please. So I can clean myself up." Those few begging words take the reminanets of your little energy.

Dave grabs your now wrinkly nightgown and robe, pulling you off the counter so you're forced to stand in front of him. Body spent, his finger prints have left slight indents on various parts of you that you're positive will bruise in the days to come. You realize now, there's no way your husband can see you uncovered for weeks.

"You're gonna put this slutty outfit on and walk your ass into his room, with my cum dripping down your legs. He's been waiting for you, sweetheart."

Your jaw drops at his demand. Disgusted yet your cunt clenches at the filth of it all.

"I thought you said he left?"

Dave just smiles at you like you're a mindless child. You almost fall to the floor in despair at the discovery of what a lying sick bastard Dave has revealed himself to be. You don't know what to do. You've caught yourself up in this twisted game and as of now, there's no way out.

So, you throw the soft lace over your head and run your fingers through your hair attempting to fix your appearance. As you unlock the door, Dave places a gentle hand on your waist and kisses the top of your head. You hear him inhale your scent before he pushes you out of the door and watches you meander to his son's room, a slight limp in your legs.

You look at him, distain on your face as you open the door to find your husband scrolling on his phone. With an arrogant look spread across his face — "Where have you been?"

Dave hears the click of the door lock setting in place. As he walks towards the stairwell, he can't help but laugh at the memory of his vasectomy he received many years ago.

thank you truly for reading! let me know your thoughts below or in asks!! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[spr1ngbunnypvrin]

ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕖𝕪 𝕊𝕒𝕨𝕪𝕖𝕣/𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 (ℙ𝕣𝕖 -“𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣” 𝕍ℍ𝕊 𝕋𝕒𝕡𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘)

/ Note: most of this is just my headcanon of Harley before the "event" happened, it won't be 100% canon and might be ooc. I'm just writing for fun, please don't come to me. ;-; My grammar pretty shitty bc Eng is not my first language/

🖤 The relationship between you and Harley – from colleagues to accomplices (First meet):

You meet Harley Sawyer when he was still an ambitious scientist at Playtime Co., before everything went crazy. He is a genius, but he has a strange obsession with his experiments—a man who does not accept conventional ethical boundaries. You are a colleague, or perhaps an outsider inadvertently drawn into his life. You are one of the few people who don't completely hate Harley, or at least don't show it openly.

When everything gradually crosses the boundaries of morality Gradually, you witness Harley's inhumane experiments and find yourself torn between right and wrong. But instead of leaving, you are captivated by his vision – the idea of transcending the limits of death, recreating life. You might have tried to stop him at first but then realized he was right in some way, and you started supporting him. The first time between the two could happen in a moment when Harley is no longer a cold and indifferent scientist. Maybe it was a late night in the lab, when he sat back with tired eyes but still gleaming with excitement over a new discovery. You bring him a cup of coffee, teasing him that he's working too hard.

He looked at you, his sharp eyes but with something wavering. "If I succeed... if I can make humanity greater, then everything will change. Do you believe me?"

You can respond in two ways: One is to empathize, the other is to warn him about the dangerous line. But no matter what, that was the moment Harley realized you were not just an observer—you were the only one who truly saw him, not just as a madman but as a human being.

💉 How Harley Sawyer expresses affection:

Harley Sawyer is a genius but emotionally twisted. He doesn't love the way normal people love—instead, he observes, analyzes, and possesses.

1. His feelings are like an experiment:

He is not the type of person to express affection through hugs or gentle words. Instead, he tends to observe the other person like a scientific study—he notes how you frown when displeased, how you smile when satisfied, and he experiments to see how you will react to his actions.

Maybe he quietly places a cup of tea just the way you like it on your desk, but he never says that he cares about you. If you ask, he might just shrug and say, "I don't want to hear your whining about lacking caffeine."

Or if he really likes you, he won't say it out loud, but instead, he will secretly monitor you at work, check if you are injured, and even remove people he thinks have a "bad influence" on you.

2. Possession, possession, and POSSESSION :

When in love, Harley doesn't express it with affectionate words, but with possessiveness. He doesn't like to share, and he might not realize it right away, but he doesn't want anyone else to get too close to you.

He doesn't openly show jealousy, but if he sees you being intimate with someone else, his gaze will darken.

If someone crosses the line with you, they might disappear from the project or get fired the next day.

When he talks to you, he tends to invade your personal space to the point where you can feel his breath on your skin.

Harley wants to possess, but at the same time, he wants you to come to him willingly. That makes the relationship with him a dangerous game between control and seduction.

The first time for the two of you could happen right in the laboratory, amidst the cold light of the screen and the unfinished experiment sketches. A hurried kiss, a hesitant touch, as if both were standing on the brink of something irreversible. Maybe it was a truly tender moment for Harley—or perhaps he was still a bit obsessed, almost wanting to hold you as part of his own "experiment."

But no matter what, it will be a storm of passion, danger, and something painful knowing that his path might lead him away from you forever.

3. He loves in the way of someone who doesn't know how to love.

He may not understand his own feelings, but once he decides that you "belong to him," there is no turning back.

A touch of his hand could be a test, as if he were checking whether your skin is cold or if your heart beats faster when he gets closer. A kiss from him might lack tenderness, instead being exploratory, as if he were testing your reaction.

If you intend to leave him, he won't beg—instead, he will find a way to make you unable to leave, whether through words, psychological manipulation, or something darker...

Harley doesn't love in the way of "needing you to live," but in the way of "if I don't have you, no one else can have you."

🔪 Harley Sawyer's sexual orientation:

I see he has tendencies towards demisexual or greysexual, but in the way of a controlling and calculating person.

📌 Demisexual (only has desire when there is a true emotional connection)

He is not the kind of person who is immediately attracted by someone's appearance. He doesn't care about so-called "one-night stands" or superficial charm.

If he is interested in someone sexually, it's not just because of desire, but also because he wants to control them.

📌 Tendency to be "Possessive & Dominant" in relationships:

In a relationship, he will be the one in complete control, not the type who likes to be led or passionately pursue someone. If there is an intimate scene, he might not hesitate to use words to influence or even manipulate psychologically, controlling the other person's reactions.

📌 Not too concerned about the other person's gender:

I don't think Harley is only attracted to a certain gender. For him, what matters more is whether you can stimulate his mind. If you make him curious, if you make him feel he can control or be attracted in some way, he will keep an eye on you.

He can experience attraction with anyone, but that doesn't mean he is easily swayed.

Bonus: Harley loves like a scientist—he doesn't say "I love you," but instead, he analyzes every little reaction of yours. Possession is his way of showing affection—if he sees you as "his," he will never let you go. He doesn't fall in love easily, and he doesn't care about sex unless there is a deep connection—but when he does care, it will be an obsession, dangerous, and inescapable.

[loverlessnight]

My Gold Standard List for Polin FanFiction:

My Dearest, Penelope: Although Colin sends letters like clockwork, he receives no reply from his friend, Penelope Featherington. Is this what it feels like to lose one's mind?

The Gentlemen's Wager: After his careless words ruined Penelope's prospects on the marriage mart, Colin is determined to do everything he can to restore her reputation and to find her a good match, even if it means pretending to court his best friend. However, outside forces with a grudge against the Bridgertons inadvertently transforms a wallflower into the most coveted prize of the London Season of 1815.

An Agreement: Every Monday (and on special occasions) Penelope took her husband to bed. It was an agreement, after a year of marriage, that they would finally explore each other for the sake of having a child. It did not mean anything, not at all.

Making It Up As We Go Along: Penelope swears that she will make it Aubrey Hall if it kills her. The universe takes up her challenge. Sans carriage and caught in the worst storm that has struck England in living memory, Penelope bumps into a familiar face on the road (what a mystery who could it possibly be!). Their only hope of a shelter in the storm requires a degree of... creative... application of the truth and Penelope finds herself wondering how a young lady is to comport herself when the bounds of propriety have been all but swept away. Enter Colin, who has a suggestion or two.

Cruel & Unusual: A Tale of Personal Growth: Penelope Featherington is officially over Colin Bridgerton. Deservedly so. She’d worked tirelessly over the last twelve months to move on from him. She’d listened to Lizzo on repeat, read every self-help book under the sun, been to therapy, and even changed the plot of her novel from a coming-of-age romance to a zombie thriller in a world devoid of men. In fact, she was seeing someone, not exclusively, but it was certainly heading in that direction. She’d done everything in her power to move on from her stupid, heart-wrenching, soul-destroying crush. Everything short of having a lobotomy. Which was why it was a tad concerning that she’d just shagged him.

Dr Bridgerton; or With his educated eyes, and his hand between my thighs: There lay in Penelope a sickness, or so she had been told. A very specific kind that only this physician, as he called himself, could potentially be willing to alleviate for her, if there were any hope at all. At least that was what the flyer had said. A gentleman by the name of Mr Bridgerton had developed a technique of stimulatory effect to relieve the sufferings of women. Of sharp tongues and short tempers gone in a few months or less, within three sessions with his special apparatus.

Dance Card: Penelope never expected to spend her first season with the Bridgertons. And Colin never expected that the young debutant would capture his heart, one dance at a time.

i'll use you as a warning sign: The words on his body sound like Lady Whistledown. His soulmate - the person meant to capture his body and heart, his partner and love of his life - ruins lives. Perhaps it makes sense that she’s already ruined his.

The Temptation of one Penelope Featherington...: Colin would like nothing more than to teach his dearest friend the true art that could be found in a game of pall mall, although he only wished he could do so without the help of the peanut gallery and all their meaningful 'looks'. Penelope, for her part, is determined that a slight against Lady Whistledown will not go unchallenged setting her thoughts upon a most dangerous path. Pall mall, rain, and midnight trips to the library. What could possibly go wrong?!

All We Left Unsaid: In which Penelope resolves to keep her friendship with Colin perfectly proper, Colin attempts to truly know Penelope, and Eloise knows everything.

Ruin: “Perhaps you should take a seat,” said Violet. Colin wouldn't remember the details of what his mother told him next. He would remember her hand warm on his knee, her eyes wide with concern, her voice gentle as velvet. All of it in stark contrast to the devastating news she shared. Penelope was ruined.

one man's bungled nuptials are another man's dot dot dot: The Queen's plan to host the wedding of the season goes disastrously astray when her chosen Diamond flees from her Viscount husband-to-be at the alter and disappears from the Palace entirely. The Queen is incensed and more than a little desperate to save face, when an alternative match falls right into her lap. One misconstrued gesture and Colin and Penelope's lives are changed forever. But perhaps, in this one particular case, the Queen's matchmaking instincts cannot be faulted.

with the flutter of butterfly wings: Penelope woke up alone. Alone and in her childhood bedroom. For the third day in a row. Her hand slid down to her lower abdomen. The life that was supposed to be fluttering there did not exist yet and neither did the beautiful children that she had already given birth to. She had three days to accept that something had happened that had sent her back to just before her first season. She wished she had more time, but with having to wake up every day in the wrong house, the wrong bed, without her husband and children—Penelope had to accept that her current present was her new reality. No matter how often she cried every morning, hours before Rae came to get her ready for the day.

Only You: After a heated argument leaves their friendship in tatters, Penelope and Colin wake to find the entirety of London abandoned. What follows is a journey of survival and self-discovery, each of them forced to confront their greatest fears, insecurities and grief in order to find their way back to each other and discover all the beauty this new world has to offer.

Love You With My Past & for My Future: Happily married Colin time travels back to Season 1, Episode 2.

For God's sake, Penelope!: For the first time at a ball, free from the strict gaze of her mother, Penelope indulges in a bit more drink than usual. It doesn't take long for her to realize that as the liquor goes in, the truth comes out. Colin, concerned for his friend's reputation, does everything in his power to prevent her from getting involved in scandals. Yet, it seems that Penelope is determined to experience a chaotic night, filled with liquors.

a father's son: 12 yo colin choosing to immediately leave the family for eton after edmund's death & preferring staying there over the holidays bc everyone always told him he looked exactly like his dad & colin couldnt bear the pained look violet gave him whenever he reminded her of her husband

Odd Encounter: What if book! Polin and series! Polin got to have a nice little chat over some tea?

Secret Love Song: The night before Penelope marries Lord Debling, Colin leaves Mayfair, shutting his family and the world out. Five long and silent years later, Violet's sudden illness brings him home... back to London and the woman who never stopped loving him.

A Little More Convincing: What if Penelope refused Colin's proposal after the carriage incident? What if Penelope stood firm in her refusal and Colin had to work a little bit harder for that "yes" (An alternate take going from the end of Chapter 13 of Romancing Mr. Bridgerton. Book Canon with a few show shout-outs.)

(Lack) Luster: Everyone knew that the spinster lady of the Featherington barony had no intentions of marrying and similarly, no man had any intention of marrying her. So why, pray tell, was the newest Bridgerton bachelor chasing after her skirts like she was some pretty little chit?

The Gentleman: “Read it again Pen,” Colin said softly. She looked back at him, eyes wide and blinking, biting her lower lip, drawing in his attention. Until today, not an impure thought had passed through his mind of Penelope. He suddenly felt like the wind was knocked out of him. His eyes snapped up to hers, her blue eyes wide and blinking rapidly. He wasn’t sure what to say. It felt like the air had changed around them. All he could think about was her in that moment. Touching her hair, caressing her cheeks, kissing her lips. He took a deep breath. He could not make sense of the impulses he was having, “please, read it again.” She swallowed, turned back to the page, and started reading it again. He listened to her sweet voice recite the words of Byron. Did she pick this poem on purpose? ‘How could she’ he reasoned, ‘she’s never seen this book, how would she know’. He was so lost in thought; he didn’t realize she had finished. He wasn’t ready for her to stop reading, what was the last part? She looked over at him again. Had she moved closer to him? Or was he leaning into her? “Again,” He said, wondering if she could hear him as it came out almost as a whisper.

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 8/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, hurt/angst

Word Count: 7022

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 8 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

A few days later, your mom and dad came over for a visit. You tried your best to hide everything that could hint at your relationship with Ben. As you put away the last picture of you and Ben, the doorbell rang.

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door to find your parents standing there, their eyes wide as they took in the sight of your home. It wasn’t a villa, but it was certainly impressive—Ben had bought it for the two of you. You knew you’d have to come up with a convincing story if they asked how you ended up in such a nice place.

“Hi, Mom, Dad”, you greeted them with a smile, stepping aside to let them in. “Come on in”.

They stepped inside, looking around appreciatively. “This is a beautiful place”, your mom said, her eyes sweeping over the elegant decor. “How did you manage to get a house like this?”.

You had prepared for this moment, trying to keep your story as close to the truth as possible without revealing too much. “Well, when I started working with the team, I got a significant pay raise and a bonus. I decided to invest in a nicer place. I wanted something comfortable and safe”.

Your dad raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further, which you took as a good sign. “It’s very nice”, he said, his tone still carrying a hint of skepticism but also admiration. “I’m glad you’re doing well for yourself”.

“Thanks, Dad”, you said, leading them to the living room where you had prepared some snacks and drinks. “Please, make yourselves at home”.

As they settled in, you did your best to keep the conversation light and casual, talking about mundane topics like work and the neighborhood. Your mom complimented your taste in decor, and your dad seemed genuinely impressed by the house.

Just as you were starting to relax, your phone buzzed with a message. You glanced at it, seeing Ben’s name on the screen. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly placed the phone face down on the table, hoping your parents didn’t notice.

“So, how’s work going?”, your mom asked, taking a sip of her tea. “Anything exciting happening?”.

You nodded, trying to keep your focus. “It’s been busy, but it’s going well. We’re working on some important projects”.

“That’s good to hear”, your dad said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad you’re finding success”.

The conversation continued smoothly, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of tension, knowing you were walking a fine line between honesty and secrecy. Every time your phone buzzed, your heart raced a little faster, but you managed to keep your composure.

Eventually, when you were in the kitchen preparing dinner, your mom joined you, while your dad watched the football game in the living room. She seemed hesitant but determined to talk, her eyes soft with concern as she approached the topic she had inadvertently upset you with the other day.

“I didn’t mean to upset you the other day”, she said gently, watching you as you chopped the vegetables. “You can take your time, there’s no rush”.

You stopped cutting the vegetables, the knife still in your hand, and looked at her. The pain you had been trying to hide was evident on your face, and you could see her expression change to one of deeper concern and empathy.

“Mom, it’s not just about taking my time”, you began, your voice thick with emotion. “There’s something I haven’t told you”.

She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch your arm. “What is it, sweetheart? You know you can tell me anything”.

You took a deep breath, gathering the strength to share the painful truth. “A few months ago, I found out I was pregnant”, you began, your voice trembling. “But… I lost the baby”.

Your mom’s eyes widened in shock and sorrow, and she quickly wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry”, she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. “I had no idea”.

Your mom held you close for quite a while, her embrace warm and comforting. A few tears escaped your eyes, but you felt more relieved than sad. The weight of the secret you had been carrying was finally lifting, and sharing it with her brought a sense of peace you hadn’t expected.

Eventually, she pulled back slightly, still holding your arms as she looked at you with concern. “Was it planned?”, she asked gently, her voice filled with understanding. “And who is the father?”.

You took a deep breath, feeling the need to be honest. “No, it wasn’t planned”, you admitted. “But when I found out, I was ready to make it work”.

Your mom nodded slowly, absorbing your words. “And the father?”, she asked gently.

You hesitated, struggling to find the right way to explain. “I have a boyfriend”, you said finally, your voice trembling slightly. "But I haven't introduced you to him yet".

She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes searching yours. "Is there a reason why we haven't met him?", she asked softly, concern evident in her tone. "Is everything okay between you two?".

You sighed, knowing you owed her an explanation but unsure of how much to reveal. "It's complicated", you began cautiously. "We've been through a lot together, and he means a lot to me. But with everything that's happened recently, I haven't found the right time to bring him around".

Your mom nodded again, her understanding growing. "I see", she said gently. "Just know that whenever you're ready, we're here to support you. And we'd love to meet him whenever you feel comfortable".

You nodded gratefully, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders knowing she wasn't pressing for details. "Thank you, Mom".

She gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Of course, sweetheart. We just want you to be happy".

With that, you both returned to preparing dinner, the conversation easing into lighter topics.

After a while of lighter conversation and a sense of relief settling in, your mom nudged you gently, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So”, she began casually, “is he handsome?”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her persistence. “Yes, Mom”, you replied with a teasing smile. “He’s handsome”.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Hmm, and how did you two meet?”.

You hesitated briefly, considering how much to share. “We met through work”, you said carefully.

Her excitement grew, her eyes lighting up. “Does that mean he kills supes too?”.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yes, he does”, you said cautiously.

Your mom's excitement grew even more. “How old is he?”, she asked, clearly eager to know more about this mysterious boyfriend of yours.

You nearly choked on your own spit at the question. The age difference was a complicated topic, considering you were just in your twenties and Ben was technically in his early forties, though his time frozen in Russia made it even more complex.

“Uh”, you began, trying to find the best way to explain it without revealing too much. “He’s… a bit older than me”.

Your mom raised an eyebrow, her curiosity only increasing. “How much older?”.

You took a deep breath, deciding to be as vague as possible. “He’s in his forties”, you said carefully, hoping that would satisfy her without prompting more questions.

To your surprise, your mom didn’t seem too fazed by the age difference. Instead, she looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Well, as long as he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what matters”.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. “He does, Mom. He really does”.

She smiled, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “I’m glad to hear that, sweetheart. Just remember, we’re always here for you if you need anything”.

“Thanks, Mom”, you replied.

As the evening continued, you enjoyed the time with your parents, the atmosphere lighter and more relaxed.

After an hour, you set the table as dinner was almost ready. Your dad stood by with a beer in his hand, while your mom placed the napkins. Just then, the front door swung open, and Ben stormed in, his supe suit covered in mud and blood, his face streaked with grime. His hair was tousled, and his bloodied shield hung loosely from his hand.

“I fucking swear, if there’s another man inside my fucking house—”, Ben’s voice boomed through the hallway, but he stopped mid-threat as he rounded the corner and saw the three of you in the dining room. The shock on his face was mirrored by your parents, who stood frozen in place.

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension palpable. You could see the confusion and fear in your parents’ eyes as they took in Ben’s appearance.

Your mom and dad looked shocked, their eyes darting between you and Ben. Finally, Ben broke the silence, pointing at your parents with his bloodied shield still in hand, his eyebrow furrowed in annoyance. “Who are those?”, he asked, his voice carrying a mix of irritation and confusion.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Ben, these are my parents”, you said, your voice calm but firm. “Mom, Dad, this is Ben”.

Your dad’s face darkened with a mix of anger and disbelief. “Soldier Boy?”, he said, almost spitting out the name. “You’re with Soldier Boy?”.

Ben’s eyes narrowed, his grip on the shield tightening. “Is there a problem?”, he asked, his tone challenging.

Your mom stepped forward, her expression a mix of concern and anger. “We were just having a nice family dinner”, she said, her voice shaking slightly. “We didn’t expect… this”.

Ben looked at you. “You didn’t tell them?”, he asked, a hint of hurt in his voice.

You shook your head, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “I was going to, but… it’s complicated”.

Your dad stepped forward, his face flushed with anger. “Complicated?”, he nearly shouted, his voice rising in a way you had rarely heard. “You’re involved with a fucking supe? And out of all of them, with fucking Soldier Boy?".

Ben’s eyes flared with anger, and he stepped closer to your dad, his own voice rising. “Stop fucking yelling at her!”, he shouted back, his presence imposing and intense.

Your father’s face reddened even more, and he stood his ground, his own anger matching Ben’s. “I’m her father! I can yell at her whenever I want!”, he roared.

You felt the tension in the room reach a breaking point, the air thick with anger and fear. Desperately, you stepped between them, raising your hands to push them apart. “Enough!”, you yelled, your voice breaking through the cacophony. “Both of you, stop it!”.

You looked at Ben, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. Seeing the desperation in your eyes, he took a deep breath, trying not to lose his temper. You gently touched Ben’s forearm, feeling the dried blood under your fingers. “Why don’t you take a shower, and we’ll talk when you’re done?”, you suggested, your voice shaking slightly.

Ben’s eyes softened a bit, the tension in his muscles easing just a little. He glanced at your parents, then back at you, and nodded reluctantly. “Alright”, he muttered, his voice low and controlled.

Ben turned around, letting the shield drop with a loud thud onto the wooden floor in the hallway. The sound echoed through the house, adding to the already tense atmosphere. He made his way upstairs to get a shower, leaving you and your parents standing in the kitchen, the weight of the situation pressing down on all of you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I know this is a lot to take in”, you said, looking at your parents.

Your mom looked at you with a raised eyebrow, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “A lot to take in?”, she repeated, her voice snapping with anger. “Baby, out of all men, why him?! He’s a supe, damn it! He’s a misogynist asshole who’s screwed every woman he’s ever walked into, probably has all the venereal diseases that exist. He’s killed so many people, humans! He’s not a good man!”.

You flinched at her words, feeling the weight of her judgment. In your distress, you had momentarily forgotten about Ben’s super hearing. Even in the shower, he could hear every single word your mother was saying.

The tension in the room was palpable. You glanced at your dad, who looked equally troubled but remained silent, his face a mask of concern and confusion.

“Mom, I know his past is… complicated”, you began, struggling to find the right words. “But he’s not that person anymore”.

Your mom crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “And you think you can change him? You think love will fix all of that? Honey, people like him don’t just change”.

Then, your mom’s eyes widened even further, her expression one of shock and anger. “Wait, you’re telling me that asshole got you pregnant?”, she exclaimed.

Your dad choked on his beer, his face turning red as he coughed. “You’re fucking pregnant?!”, he yelled, his voice echoing through the house.

You felt your heart start to beat faster, a mix of emotions swirling inside you—upset, pissed, sad, all of it. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the tension in the room was overwhelming.

“Not anymore”, you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I lost the baby”.

The room fell silent, the weight of your words settling heavily. Your dad looked like he had been punched in the gut, his eyes wide with shock.

With red-rimmed eyes, you gathered your strength to defend Ben. “You don’t understand”, you began, your voice trembling but determined. “Ben did everything he could to be there for me. He took care of me in ways I never could have imagined. He’s saved my life more times than I can count”.

You paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Even before we were together, he was always there, protecting me. He’s risked everything for me, and he loves me. I know his past isn’t perfect, but he’s trying to change, to be better”.

Your parents exchanged a look, the anger and fear in their expressions slowly giving way to a more thoughtful silence. They were processing your words, trying to reconcile the image they had of Soldier Boy with the man you were describing.

“I just want you to understand that he’s not the same person he used to be”, you said, your voice softer now. “He’s trying, and he’s been there for me through everything. I love him, and he loves me. That’s all that matters”.

Your parents exchanged another glance, their expressions slowly shifting from anger to contemplation. Just then, Ben stepped back into the room, now clean, his hair still wet. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a simple black shirt, which made him look less intimidating than before.

Ben paused for a moment, taking in the tense atmosphere.

There was again a heavy silence, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air. No one seemed to know how to approach the topic again, the tension palpable. You sighed, turning your attention back to the oven. “Can we just eat first, please?”, you mumbled, taking the roast out and setting it on the counter.

Your mom nodded slowly, her eyes still wary but softening slightly. “Of course”, she said, stepping forward to help you with the dishes. Your dad remained silent, his gaze shifting between you and Ben, his expression unreadable.

Ben moved to the table. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, as if he was trying to navigate the fragile situation without causing further tension. You appreciated his effort, a small gesture that showed he was willing to try.

As everyone settled at the table, the atmosphere remained heavy.

The dinner remained quiet, the clinking of cutlery and the soft sounds of chewing the only noises filling the room. Ben kept his eyes on his plate, acutely aware of the intense gazes from your parents.

After a while, your mom finally broke the silence, watching Ben intently. “So, you don’t remember us, huh?”, she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and something else, something deeper.

Ben looked up, a questioning look on his face. “Should I?", he grumbled.

Your mom finished the rest of her wine in one gulp before crossing her arms. “I was your PA in the eighties. Well, one of them”.

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Slowly, his eyebrows went up in recognition. “Wait, we didn’t—”. He cut himself off, gesturing with his finger between her and himself, a look of realization dawning.

Your mom’s expression twisted in disgust. “Ew, no! You were all about Monica”.

You could see the wheels in Ben’s head spinning, trying to piece together the memories. “Yeah, right. Monica”, he said slowly, the name sparking a faint memory. After another short pause, his eyes widened. “You’re Mary?”.

Your mom nodded, a small, tight smile on her face. “And Frank”, she added, nodding toward your dad.

Ben chuckled, a hint of genuine amusement breaking through the tension. “No shit! You two got fucking old”.

Your dad bristled slightly, but your mom just rolled her eyes. “It’s been a long time”, she said, her voice softening slightly.

You bit your lip, not sure how to react. The tension in the room was palpable, and you felt caught between two worlds. Ben leaned back slightly, crossing his arms, his demeanor shifting to one of guarded curiosity. “Then why are you so mad at me? I always liked you. Both of you. I always treated you good”, he said, his voice firm and unwavering.

Your mom’s eyes narrowed, her sassiness returning as she pointed out the obvious. “Ben, it’s not just about how you treated us. It’s about your lifestyle—your drug and alcohol addiction, the countless women, your misogynistic attitude. You were like every other supe, doing more harm than good”.

Your dad chimed in, his voice filled with grumbling anger and a dismissive hand gesture. “And now screwing my daughter”.

“Dad!”, you squeaked, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The room fell silent again, the tension thickening with each passing second.

Ben’s gaze remained steady, though his jaw tightened at your father’s words.

Again, there was silence. No one knew what to do or say. Ben’s jaw remained clenched, a clear sign that he wasn’t willing to back down. The tension in the room felt almost palpable, with everyone at a loss for how to proceed.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his voice steady and firm. “I get it. I get why you’re angry. But I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m trying to change, and I’m doing it because I love her”. He gestured towards you.

You bit your lip as Ben said that he loved you. It was still very rare to hear it from him, and even more rare for him to say it in front of people. The moment felt heavy with significance, but your dad’s voice broke through, his tone slightly less aggressive but probing.

“Did you lose the baby because it wasn’t planned?”, your dad asked, his words hinting at an accusation that Ben might have had something to do with it.

That’s when Ben lost it. His eyes flashed with anger, and he stood up, his posture rigid with fury. “Are you for fucking real right now?”, he snapped, his voice a mix of rage and hurt. “I loved that baby. The only thing I love more is her”, he pointed to you, his voice cracking slightly. “It meant everything to me, and to get accused of something like that…”.

Ben’s voice trailed off, the raw emotion in his words cutting through the tension in the room. You could see the pain etched on his face, the anguish of being misunderstood and accused of something so hurtful.

You felt a surge of anger and hurt, your emotions boiling over as you turned to your dad. “How could you even suggest that?”, you snapped, your voice shaking. “Do you have any idea how much we both wanted that baby? How much it meant to us?”.

Your dad’s expression softened, but he looked taken aback by your outburst. “I didn’t mean it like that”, he started, but you cut him off, unable to hold back your frustration.

“No, you did mean it like that”, you retorted. “You implied that Ben was somehow responsible. He’s been through hell trying to support me and cope with our loss. We both have”.

Your mom looked at you with concern, stepping forward. “We just don’t want you to get hurt”, she said softly.

You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears. “I’m already hurt”, you said, your voice cracking. “Both of us are”, you whispered, looking over at Ben. His jaw clenched further, and you could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure. The tension in his muscles was palpable, and you knew he was holding back an immense amount of anger and frustration.

Your dad sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry”, he grumbled, his voice low. “I just want to make sure he’s treating you right, not poorly”.

“I understand, Dad. But Ben isn’t like that. Not with me”.

Your dad looked at Ben, his eyes narrowing slightly. “How did you even manage to get her pregnant? Supes can’t make babies”, he said, his tone a mix of confusion and curiosity.

You felt your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “Actually, Dad”, you began, glancing at Ben, who looked equally puzzled. “Mom and you explained it to me a few days ago”.

Ben’s confusion deepened as he looked at you. “What are you talking about?”.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the explanation you were about to give. “Apparently, I was born with traces of Compound V in my system. My parents said it was because they worked closely with you back in the day, and some of it lingered in the environment”.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, what?”.

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions as you recounted the story. “Yeah, and to prevent me from developing powers or being affected by the V, my parents took me to an organization of doctors who tried to neutralize it. They shot me up with all kinds of stuff to get rid of the V traces in my body”.

Your dad nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable as he added, “We didn’t want her to end up like the other kids who were experimented on. We thought we were doing what was best for her”.

Ben took a moment to process everything, his eyes flicking between you and your parents. “So, you’re saying that because of this… combination of Compound V traces and whatever those doctors used, it made it possible for us to have a baby?”.

You nodded slowly. “Well, that’s what I think. Somehow, it must have switched something in my system, allowing me to get pregnant.”

Your Dad thought about it, and it sure made sense.

Ben thought about it for a moment too, then nodded slowly. “That would explain why my blood never killed or turned you”, he said, the realization dawning on him.

“Your blood?”, your mother asked, her voice filled with shock and concern. “What are you talking about?”.

You sighed, realizing this was another piece of the puzzle your parents didn’t know about. “Ben’s blood has healing properties”, you explained. “Whenever I got hurt, he used his blood to heal me. It worked without any adverse effects because of the Compound V traces in my system”.

Your dad looked at Ben, his expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity. “So, you used your blood to heal her?”.

Ben nodded. “Yes. I didn’t know about the Compound V traces until now, but it makes sense why it worked without any issues”.

There was another heavy silence as everyone absorbed the new information. Finally, your mom clapped her hands on her thighs, breaking the tension. “So”, she began, her voice laced with both disappointment and a hint of resignation, “what’s the plan now? Soldier Boy over there doesn’t look like he’ll let you go that quickly”.

You could sense her reluctance, but there was also a willingness to try and make this work. It was a small step, but it meant the world to you.

Ben glanced at you, then back at your mom, his expression softening. “You’re right. I’m not letting her go. I love her, and I want to be with her”.

Your mom sighed deeply, her disappointment still evident, but she nodded. “I guess we’ll have to figure out how to make this work then”.

Your dad, though still skeptical, seemed to be coming to terms with the situation. “As long as you take care of her and make sure she’s safe”, he said, his voice gruff but sincere, “that’s all we ask”.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn’t a complete resolution, but it was a start. “Thank you”, you said, your voice full of gratitude. “I know this is a lot to take in, and it means a lot that you’re willing to try”.

Your dad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up from the table. “We better get going”, he mumbled, glancing at your mom. “This has been a lot to take in for just one evening”.

Your mom nodded in agreement, standing up as well. “Yes, it’s been quite the night”, she said, her voice still tinged with lingering worry but also a note of acceptance. “We’ll talk more soon”.

You walked them to the door, feeling a mix of emotions. Relief that they were willing to try, anxiety about the future, and a deep gratitude for their effort to understand.

“Thanks for coming”, you said, giving your mom a tight hug. “I really appreciate it”.

She hugged you back just as tightly. “We love you, sweetheart. We just want you to be happy”.

Your dad gave you a gruff nod, then turned to Ben. “Remember what I said”, he warned, his tone serious but not hostile.

Ben nodded firmly. “I will. You have my word”.

As they left, you closed the door behind them and let out a long breath. The evening had been exhausting, but you felt a sense of hope. Turning to Ben, you saw that he looked equally relieved and tired.

“Well, that was something”, you said, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation.

Ben rolled his eyes and pulled you gently into his arms, holding you close. He missed you way too much, but the words wouldn’t leave his lips. Instead, he mumbled, “Your parents are fucking strenuous”.

You giggled against his chest, the sound muffled by his shirt. “I know, they… they just hate supes”.

Ben grumbled something sarcastic, “Yeah, that was pretty obvious”. He sighed deeply, resting his chin on your head. “But they care about you, and I get that. Just didn’t expect to have my past thrown in my face like that”.

You smiled up at Ben, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you can’t really blame them, can you? You do have quite the reputation”, you teased lightly, poking his chest playfully.

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, so now you’re on their side?”.

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that you can be a bit… intense”.

He let out a huff of mock indignation. “Intense, huh? I’ll show you intense”.

With a swift motion, he picked you up and carried you over to the couch, plopping down with you on his lap. You laughed, squirming a bit, but his strong arms kept you firmly in place.

“Alright, alright”, you giggled, trying to catch your breath. “You win. You’re very intense, and very strong”.

Ben’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Damn right. And don’t you forget it”.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I won’t. But you know, sometimes a little softness wouldn’t hurt”.

Ben rolled his eyes, but he knew that you needed exactly that from time to time. With a soft, playful push, he guided you down onto the couch and hovered above you, his presence both comforting and thrilling. He started kissing your neck, his lips warm and tender against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the intimacy of the moment juxtaposed with the absurdity of the thought that had just crossed your mind. “I’m just glad you never had something with my mom back in the day”, you mumbled, your voice tinged with a mix of amusement and relief. “The thought alone grosses me out”.

Ben paused, pulling back slightly to look at you with an incredulous expression. “Your mom? Seriously?”. He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. “Trust me, I had my hands full back then, but not that full”.

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Good to know”, you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. “Because that would have been really weird”.

Ben kissed you again, but you pushed him away softly. "So who´s Monica?", you grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up", he grumbled with a smirk and silenced you with his lips.

Ben’s kisses trailed down over your breasts, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt. His touch was gentle but sure, a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt his warmth spreading through you, the tension from the evening slowly melting away.

As he reached the last button, you mumbled softly, “I’m glad you’re back”.

Ben paused, looking up at you with a smile that was both tender and filled with an unspoken promise.

You reached up, running your fingers through his hair as he resumed his kisses, moving lower with a slow, deliberate pace. His lips and hands explored your skin, each touch igniting a spark of desire that made you feel alive and connected.

Ben kissed down your stomach, his lips lingering over your skin as his fingers reached for the waistband of your jeans. Just as he was about to unbutton them, you tugged gently on his hair, your voice soft but firm. “I have an appointment tomorrow to get an IUD”, you mumbled. “So unless you have a condom, we can’t do anything”.

Ben stopped, pushing himself up to look at you, his disappointment evident in his eyes. The mood shifted, the intimacy giving way to tension. His jaw tightened, a flicker of anger crossing his features.

“You’re getting an IUD?”, he asked, his voice low and strained. “And you didn’t think to tell me before now?”.

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. “I told you I wasn’t ready for another baby, Ben. We talked about this”.

“We talked about it”, he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “But you didn’t mention anything about getting an IUD. That’s a pretty big decision to make on your own”.

You sat up, pulling your shirt closed. “I thought it was the best thing for now. We’re still dealing with so much, and I’m not ready for the possibility of another pregnancy”.

Ben’s eyes narrowed, his temper flaring. “So, you just decided to take control of everything without even discussing it with me?”.

You felt a wave of guilt, knowing how much this topic meant to him. You sighed, trying to find the right words. “Because I know how you would react”, you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ben sat up, his expression shifting from anger to hurt. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, and it cut deep. “You didn’t trust me enough to talk about it”, he said, his voice strained with emotion. “You thought I’d just blow up and not understand”.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just… I was afraid. Afraid that talking about it would make everything worse. That you’d be upset, and we’d end up fighting”.

He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a long moment. “I get that you’re scared. But I lost a baby too, remember? I don’t want to be left out of these decisions”.

You looked down at your hands, feeling even worse for not asking him what he thought about it. The weight of your decision felt heavier now, knowing how much it hurt him. Ben sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“I really want a baby with you”, he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. Admitting this out loud seemed to be incredibly difficult for him. “It’s hard for me to say it, but it’s true. I want to build a life with you, a family. And I thought… I thought that was something we both wanted”.

You felt a lump form in your throat, your heart aching at his words. “I do want that, Ben. I want it so much. But I’m scared. We’ve been through so much, and I don’t know if I can handle losing another baby”.

Ben reached out, lifting your chin so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. “You won’t lose another baby”, he said firmly. “We have the V medication, and I will protect you, both of you. I won’t let anything ever happen to you again”.

The pain of your previous loss still hung heavy between you, an unspoken shadow that loomed over every decision and every moment. While you had pushed the topic of another baby as far away as possible in an attempt to heal, Ben had found solace in the hope of building a family, of healing through the joy of new life.

His words were filled with a promise, a reassurance that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe. You could see the depth of his love and commitment in his eyes, and it brought a sense of comfort and hope that you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I know you want to protect me”, you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “And I’m so grateful for that. But I need time to heal, to be ready for this".

Ben sighed deeply and leaned back, closing his eyes as his head fell back against the couch. He knew he couldn’t force you into another pregnancy, and the realization weighed heavily on him. The frustration of not being on the same page was palpable, but his love for you was strong enough to keep him from pressuring you. Despite this, every day without you being pregnant seemed to magnify his own pain of loss.

He opened his eyes and looked at you, a mixture of sadness and understanding in his gaze. “I get it. I really do”, he said softly. “I just… I miss what we had, what we were planning. But… I won’t push you”.

Ben was used to getting what he wanted. It wasn’t until he met you that he found himself challenged in a way he had never experienced before. It was one of the reasons he loved you so much—you were strong and stood your ground, even against him. That strength commanded his respect. But still, you were a fucking pain in his ass.

You mumbled a quiet “Thank you”, your voice barely audible. Ben sighed again, his arm widening in a gesture for you to come closer. You nestled against him, finding comfort in his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

For a moment, you both stayed silent, wrapped in the shared understanding of your pain and the complicated path ahead. Ben’s fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, grounding you in the present.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “I promise, we´ll try for another baby”, you mumbled, your voice soft but sincere. “Even three if you want to”. You paused, a small smile tugging at your lips. “But I just need a little more time… and maybe a ring on my finger first”.

Ben tensed instantly, the words taking him by surprise. He had always wanted to settle down, to have a family and a stable life, but hearing it from your mouth made it feel more real. He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes wide with a mix of emotions—shock, hope, and something deeper.

“Are you serious?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded. “Yes, I’m serious. I want to be with you, Ben. I want to build a life together, but I need to know we’re both ready for it”.

For a moment, Ben was silent, processing your words. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. “I never thought I’d hear you say that”, he admitted, his voice tinged with amazement.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips as he mumbled, “Now I want to fuck you even more”. The intensity in his eyes was undeniable, filled with a raw mixture of love and desire.

Before you could respond, he cupped your face with both hands, pulling you into a rough, passionate kiss. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that made your heart race. You felt his hands travel down your body, gripping your hips as he pulled you even closer.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this moment of intense connection. Ben’s kisses grew deeper, more fervent, and you found yourself responding with equal passion, your fingers tangling in his hair.

He pulled away and looked at you again, his eyes searching yours with a mix of wonder and disbelief. “You really would wanna marry me?”, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at him, puzzled by his question. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”, you replied softly, your hand reaching up to caress his cheek. “I love you, Ben. I want to spend my life with you”.

Ben stared at you, the raw vulnerability in his eyes making your heart ache. Even after months with you, he still couldn’t believe that someone could love him for just himself, without the fame or the power. He had always been seen as a weapon, a hero, or a monster, but with you, he was just Ben.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Your heart ached as you saw the depth of vulnerability in his eyes, the way he still viewed himself as unworthy. You shook your head ,firmly, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.

“Don’t say that”, you said softly. “You deserve all the love in the world, Ben. You’re more than what you think you are. You’re more than your past, more than what people say about you. To me, you’re everything”.

Ben’s expression softened further, a flicker of hope igniting in his eyes. “You really mean that?”, he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and cautious optimism.

You whispered, “Of course I do”.

With that, Ben pulled you into another kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound tenderness. As the kiss deepened, he gently pulled you onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you securely. The closeness of his body against yours was both comforting and exhilarating, a reminder of the strong connection you shared.

You felt his hands slide up your back, holding you tighter as he kissed you with a passion that conveyed everything he couldn’t put into words.

The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, entwined in each other’s arms. The intensity of your feelings for him, and his for you, was overwhelming, filling you with a sense of completeness you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Finally, when the kiss broke, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling as you both tried to catch your breath. “I love you, Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity and love.

“I love you too”, he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “And I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you”.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “You don’t have to prove anything. Just be here with me, that’s all I need”.

Ben nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and determination. “I’m not going anywhere”, he said firmly. “I’m right here, and I always will be”.

———————————

A/N: Another one of my favorite chapters. Let's see if we meet Monica one day lol.

Please let me know what you think. 🥰

-

Part 9

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings @fitxgrld @winchesterwild78 @uddiifiigj @libby99hb @urgogodancer

[harris-the-great]

I love ii but it WILL be the death of me. I keep thinking about how Baseball's storyline is just so damn tragic, and nobody notices. "Always strikes out", And he 𝘩𝘢𝘴 his whole life (his whole time on the show).

Not rejoining, even when he earned it (Paper most likely had the sympathy of fans due to Paper having been there the longest, but Baseball had also been there almost just as long, and- 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. He 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 threaten to kill anyone upon his release! /sarc)

having a constant stream of ridicule from the other contestants regarding his weight lasting S1 AND the start of S2. Why do they even CARE about his weight brah. Ohhh, that's right! Meshart4 fated him to never get what he wants, like people 𝘯𝘰𝘵 seeing him for only his weight. Womp womp, I guess. Wow Mephone, projecting, much? (Also [in my opinion] weight seems VERY irrelevant for objects to care about, due to how most things that could change the appearance of a human [such as; diet, physical strength, hygiene.] Don't really change an object's appearance.) ((Also also being criticized for his armless-.. ness(?) Ouch.))

As much as being a team leader seems like it would be a 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 thing, with the team he had, it was like being a single mom of 10. Having to mediate all of the drama in his team whilst leading it in the first place put so much pressure on him, not to mention having the weight of his friend's problems weighing on him making things harder to deal with. The reason he and Nickel had that lil tussle back in s2e10, was BECAUSE Baseball had so many bad things happening to him. He just wanted that little reassurance that even with all the crap happening, he was an at least half-decent leader, and all he got was his best friend making a joke about it, and downplaying Baseball's very real feelings. He tried to save it, but just that first comment I feel definitely affected Baseball in a negative way.

//(Lil detour time, I wanna talk about how Nickel affected Baseball in GENERAL [for the better AND the worse.], Baseball clearly views Nickel as his best friend, even after everything they've gone through in season 2, but I don't think that's necessarily a good thing. I think it shows that Baseball was too scared to try and make new friends in the game, as to not accidentally make an enemy. I feel this is because Baseball was slowly realizing that most things he tried to do wouldn't go his way, so he'd cling on to Nickel as his only friend, hoping not to lose him, feeling lucky to have him at all (and Nickel would know all about luck/jjjjjjj). This lead to Baseball disregarding some of Nickel's actions towards himself and Suitcase as to preserve his relationship with Nickel. Though, I do feel that the bond they had was real. It started in season 1, where there was less drama built up over time(ex; Tophy and Knife in s2e1 planting the seed for their inevitable rivalry, vs Taco randomly being that bitch and that hoe. /silly), so Baseball most likely wasn't thinking about "preserving his friendship" with Nickel, but rather being friends with him in general. This gave them that time to have genuine interactions that build up the trust between the two. This is why Baseball played along with whatever Nickel did, 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘵����𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮. That friendship was real, and Nickel was taking advantage of Baseball without even realizing it. I doubt his did this consciously due to his s3 arc, and how he was programmed that way. Nta. /silly. Nickel getting eliminated was a real roadblock for Baseball because (as aforementioned) Nickel was Baseball's only real friend in the game at this point, and Baseball still had that very real connection with him. This is why I feel he was so awkward in s2e14, as he was trying to have that confidence that Nickel had, and he never did. As much as that's really good for him- like, yay! You go girl!! It's inadvertently horrible for him specifically, because he is hardwired to have all of his efforts for naught. It took Baseball all of s2e15 talking to Suitcase to realize all of Nickel's wrongs, and how ignoring them put him in the wrong too. Once he finally realized that, it seemed like Baseball was really coming into his own! Working out his own issues bit by bit.

WRONG!!🤑👅💜 s2e16. We got only one Baseball and Nickel interaction, but it was enough to change Baseball for the rest of the life he had left. Watching Nickel die/get X'd was like s2e13's elimination put to an extreme. It's clear that - even thought he was working out his issues - Baseball still had that strong attachment to Nickel. People respond to grief in many ways, but when things get too much for one person, they can simply go numb. Baseball was in a very sensitive mental state, and this really hit him where it hurts most. His best friend. He went numb, not telling anyone what he saw. Even in Baseball's last moments, he tried to take that leader-like stance, and help everyone but himself, just as Nickel told him he could.) // lil detour over (I say lil as if this wasn't long as HELL💜)

Though I did connect back to the main claim occasionally, Nickel was a very important part of Baseball's character development that matters to this conversation imo.

Getting out in s2e15 was also (possibly) a place where Baseball's programming played a part (alternatively, he got out because Suitcase had too many negative experiences with Baseball, and thought that her deep emotional views of him would impair her gameplay in the finale.) "Always strikes out", even with the people he thought were friends. Even with the person he thought was his friend. Even with Suitcase. I feel the reason Baseball had the response he did, was him coming to terms with things just not going his way, which sets him up in that sensitive mental state in s2e16. He seemed to have come to terms with Suitcase choosing Knife, and didn't want to procrastinate on the obvious, that he was just never enough. Not enough for Suitcase, not enough for his team, not enough to win the game.

He just wasn't the guy who could do it. And he knew he never would be.

He always strikes out.

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Girl Of My Dreams — Mat Barzal

Summary: In which Mat Barzal inadvertently falls for the oldest Hughes sibling and her brothers aren’t happy.

Content Warning; Taylor swift 1989 isn’t by Tay(its by reader) Mentions of University of Alabama (reader went there) Trevor Zegras being hopelessly in love with reader. Readers social media face claim is Addison Rae bc idc she’d clear as a WAG for a athlete.

Pairing: Mat Barzal x Hughes! Reader.

Mat would be lying if he said he didn’t sneak glances at the announcers box after meeting you. You had been carrying a plate of food and two margaritas to your booth where your friends sat. Tito had made a joke about you seeming familiar then the pair heard your voice and knew, “Alright now, eat up because y’all are bumming me out.” Mat’s jaw slacked, “He’d known that the Islanders had gotten a new game announcer who was a girl but he wouldn’t have known it was you. You were effortlessly stunning, you had captivated the attention of every straight man in the bar. Mat had approached you as you sat at the bar, “I’m Mat, can I buy you a drink?”

You grinned and spoke, southern accent slipping out, “I’m Y/N, I mean Barzy after the way you played last game? You better buy me a drink. ‘Yknow how many hate comments my broadcast got?” Mat grinned as the bartender approached you, “Another Corona Light and whatever she’s having on me.” You grinned sheepishly, “I’m fucking with you. I’ve heard worse.” Mat grinned, “So now would probably be a shitty time to ask you out?” You smiled at him, “Maybe not.” Mat smiled, “If I may, your not from New York are you? Where are you from?” You grinned, “I grew up in Toronto with my 3 younger brothers and moved to Alabama for college and been in New York for a few months now.” Mat grinned, “Well welcome to New York beautiful.” That was a year and a half ago. You still hadn’t told your brothers who your boyfriend was, just that his name was Mathew. Until your album release came creeping in and you wanted to go public with Mat.

Instagram

ynhughes; my album ‘1997’ is now streaming! thank you for all your support(especially the bf, ‘slut’ and ‘suburban legends’ are 4 us)

barzal97: celebrating you is my favorite pastime. i have never met someone who people gravitate towards more than you. you are by far the most wonderfully amazing woman i know. it is a privilege to say i love you🤎 this past year or so has changed my life. you make living easy and so so much better. i can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.

trevorzegras: alexa play that should be me💔💔

ynhughes: forever in awe of you mathew barzal. amazed a gal like me is lucky enough to be adored by you🤎

oliviarodrigo; THEY HIT THE PENTAGON!! @conangray

>conangray; told you it was them i saw at radio music hall!

ny_islanders; our roman empire is all the sweet posts for to y/n today🥹🥹

sydneyemartin: brb crying. the purest people in the world. so grateful my girls get to grow up seeing a love this pure that isn’t their parents.

>ynhughes: we adore your girls more than words can express.

_quinnhughes: my biggest inspiration is out here killing it. in awe of you everyday sissy🥹 thank you for being my best friend from day 1

ynhughes: in a puddle of tears quinny. thank you for always being on my side, even when im wrong.

sabrinacarpenter; hockey players making me ugly sob wasn’t on my 2023 bingo card

elhughes; my first babies🥹 extremely emotional over you all today

>_quinnhughes: we love you momma💕

jackhughes: 1997 reasons to love my meanie head sister, i guess her bf’s alright

ynhughes: i love you little brat, come visit me and mat!!

>jackhughes: will do, sissy🫡

trevorzegras: i can’t believe she won’t date me 😞😞

>ynhughes: buck up z, your way too young for me. perfect age for @sabrinacarpenter tho!

lukehughes: the worlds best big sister came out with the best album to date

ynhughes; really feeling the hughes love train today, i need to plan for all of us to be together soon! so y’all can meet Mat!

etnow; this just in; the Hughes brothers have brought tears to my eyes supporting their sister

barzal97: the third picture is actually the most accurate representation of your sister now

>lukehughes; always messing with those darn cats! even if they are on the side of the street.

[tokkiwrites]

┈─ 𖧷 Harvey Wallbanger 🥃

in which you're curious about how a classic harvey wallbanger tastes so you ask Joel, your dad's best friend, for a sip of his. he lets you try itㅡ in a not so conventional way.

★ ͘ dbf!joel miller, age gap, fem!reader, afab reader, no use of y/n, hair pulling, spit kink, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, kind of voyeurism, lots of pet names, lmk if i missed anything.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the backyard where the family gathering unfolded. The scent of barbecue lingered in the air, intermingling with the fragrant aroma of magnolia blossoms that adorned the edges of the patio. Strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, adding a touch of magic to the evening. Mismatched lawn chairs and a weathered porch swing created a cozy seating area, where laughter and chatter filled the air. The wooden table, adorned with an array of homemade dishes, bore witness to the love poured into the get-together.

but that wasn't something you cared about right now.

Joel Miller, a man weathered by years and life's challenges, guarded his emotions behind a rough exteriorㅡㅡ at least that's what it seemed like.

You couldn't help but stare, unknowingly drawn towards him, as he conversed with your aunt. Family gatherings were a bittersweet affair; you resented his constant presence yet yearned for it, more than you cared to admit.

With a sip of the overly sweet virgin mojito, you suppressed a sigh, wondering if your dad had momentarily forgotten your age, given the drink he made for you. attention fixated on Joel, you observed the way your aunt touched his bicep; it sent a pang of jealousy through you. The effect he had on you was undeniable. You hated to admit it.

"Everything's alright, sweetheart?" Your dad's voice interrupted your envy-induced trance. "Huh?" You furrowed your brows, snapping back to reality. "Oh, uh... yeah, Dad. I'm just trying to get this drink down," you laughed nervously, swirling the cold glass around.

A knot tightened in your stomach. What if your dad sensed the unspoken tension between you and his best friend? you couldn't help but wonder how he would react if he knew the truth.

"What, you don't like my mojitos?"

"Dad, this is in no way a mojito." you laughed, settling the glass down onto the table next to you. "Well, you're still my little girl. I can't have you drinking alcohol now, can I?"

As you laughed off your dad's questionable mixology skills, your eyes inadvertently found Joel. His rugged silhouette stood against the backdrop of the setting sun. Why does he have to be so...him?

You didn't know much about the man, even though you grew up with him around all the timeㅡ you didn't know much. just knew how much you wanted him and how wrong it was.

On so many levels so wrong, yet you couldn't help but tremble as a wave of unspeakable thoughts had drowned your mind. Pressing your thighs together, you breathe heavily and decide to save yourself while you can, swiftly making your way inside the house.

No one seemed to notice. Almost.

"Now why'd you run off like that? the ping-pong game just started." His voice, a gravelly drawl, cut through the air.

fuck. he knows. he saw you stare at him the whole night, of course he knows.

turning around, you meet his gaze. he towered over the kitchen entrance, a small glass in his rough hands. Jesus christ. You force out a smile, voice hitching.

"Hi, Mr. Miller! we didn't get to talk tonight, huh?" You slowly back up towards the kitchen island. "Why are you inside?"

"Don't change the subject, darlin'. i saw you tonight..."

oh, fuck.

"sneaking in to steal some of your dad's alcohol." he laughs, pointing towards you. "now, i told your dad you ain't one to drink those kiddie things."

thank god.

you laugh in relief, throwing your hands up. "you got me!"

"yeah, all grown up now. need a grown-up drink, no?" His eyes lock onto yours, and you gulp down the lump in your throat. nodding your head, you reach to play with the hem of your dress. "what are you drinking?"

"oh, this? 's a Harvey, don't think you'll like it much. old man drink." the corners of his mouth lift up into a smile. "can i have some?" you pip. "i bet its better than what dad made me drink." laughing, you try and stare out the window, as to avert Joel's gaze.

"that so?" he hoarsed. oh my god, this motherfu-

he circled around you and made his way to the cabinet that housed your dad's most cherished whiskey. Joel settled his glass down, the amber liquid catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights.

"C'mere, girl." He motioned you over, a command that sent shivers down your spine, and you obeyed. There was a magnetic force in his presence, an unspoken poison in his voice that drew you closer. As you approached, you caught a hint of his cologne, a rugged scent that added to the intoxicating atmosphere. He could ask anything of you right now...you'd do it.

Joel poured a generous amount into a glass filled with ice, the sound of the liquid gliding against the crystal and echoing in the quiet kitchen. The air thickened with anticipation as he handed you the drink, the warmth of his rough fingers grazing yours.

"i-i'm kind of scared to try it now, honestly." you divert his gaze. "come on, now." he pushed closer to you, his scent enveloping you. joel grabs the glass from your hands, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb pressing against your chin.

"open up." your eyes widened. did you hear that right? are you drunk? maybe that mojito wasn't virgin at all. "don't make me repeat myself, girl. "

you complied, uncertainty and excitement blending in the air. Joel tilted the glass, and the rich, hard whiskey slipped past his lips. Leaning down, palm still around your jaw, your breath caught as he slowly spat the liquid into your mouth.

his eyes never leave yours, and your heart feels like it could rip through your chest right now. Joel withdrew, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skinㅡ the taste of that forbidden sip plastered on your tongue.

The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and for a moment, time seemed suspended. As you caught your breath, Joel's expression remained unreadable.

"really think i couldn't see you starin' at me, angel?"

"I'm - so sorry, mr. Millerㅡㅡ"

"sweet girl. been dyin to know what's inside that pretty head of yours when you look at me like that." His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face. "you know how much i had to hold back? wanted to ravage you, toㅡ" he trails "to destroy you. make you beg for me to stop..." joel leans down, his rough beard tickling your neck, drawing a soft moan from between your lips.

"dirty girl." a dark chuckle evades his throat "wonderin' how soaked that pussy is right now, hm?"

"mr. Miller, p-please..."

"so fuckin needy, i ain't even touched you yet." His voice, a husky murmur, resonated with a mixture of amusement and a raw need. his hot breath against you belied the intensity of the moment, leaving you yearning for more.

Desire hung thick in the air as Joel's hands lingered, teasing and exploring. Each touch ignited a fire within you, and the temptation between you two pulsed like a heartbeat faster than your own.

"Sure you want this, darlin?"" Nipping at your bottom lip, he waits for your signal. "So sure." This is it, the moment you had only dreamed of. that's when his lips crashed against yours, his mustache pricking your skin. you kissed back, hungry, so hungry like you've never felt before.

at any moment someone could walk through that doorㅡ but you didn't care, couldn't care. not whilst joels tongue clashed against yours. your arms wrapped around his neck, his slipped down to your ass, squeezing it, prompting you to yelp into the kiss.

"wanna fuck you over this counter, baby. want that pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." you moaned at his dirty words.

dirty. dirty like his touch that left your skin tainted, dirty like how you know you'll feel after all of this is over.

but you like dirty. you love dirty.

you were too deep into it. Maybe it was the booze or his voice digging at your core. you barely realized when he turned you around, bending you over the kitchen counterㅡ The cold surface almost sizzled against your skin.

joel pressed himself against you, still clothed. fuck, he was huge. pulling your dress up and panties down, he traced his finger agains your dripping folds.

"fuckin hell, baby, all this for me? c'mon, let me hear you say it."

"'s all for y-ou, mr. Miller ㅡ" you choked back a moan, pushing yourself back onto his bulge. he laughs, tilting his head to the side slightly. " a fuckin dream 's what you are, girl. didn't know what i was missin all this time."

joel unbuckled his pants in a hurry, pulling them to the ground and positioning himself better behind you. he drags the pulsing tip up and down, up and down as if he didn't make you wait long enough.

after he thinks its sufficient, he starts to push inside, causing you to bite onto your forearm and shut your eyes as tears welled up in them. "atta girlㅡ you can take it. you're a big girl, ain't ya?" he teased.

by the time he was fully inside, you were a mess, tears stained your cheeks, drool at the corners of your mouth covered in smudged lipstick ㅡ a dream.

joel moves, at first, slowly as to let you adjust. he's patient. praises trail onto you as he kisses little pecks on the small of your back. "That's it, darlin'. take it all like a big girl." your body trembles from every breath and touch of his.

his pace picks up, skin hitting yours roughly, fingers tangled in your hair and his other palm flush against your belly. "feel me there, sweet girl?"

"I- yes, yes, please, p-please ㅡ " you were hanging on that counter for dear life, your brain foggy. nothing made sense but this. Joel buried deep inside of you.

he fucked you hard, and deep, your stomach churning at every hit. his calloused hands gripped tightly at you ass, his moves now more ragged.

"f-uck, baby ㅡ i gotta come. where, tell me where?"

"inㅡinside-"

"god, fuckin dammitㅡ" with that white ropes painted your velvet walls, causing you to reach your high also, squeezing joel in.

and for a moment there was silence. this really just happened. joel pulled out, letting his seed drip down your thighs. "shit, babyㅡ look at that. so pretty." he smiles kissing your shoulders, "so pretty like this, f' me."

you sigh, of relief you didn't get caughtㅡㅡ or maybe of sadness because it was all over.

"let's get you cleaned up, huh? we're lucky your family takes ping-pong games so seriously." joel laughed, helping you up.

"mr. Miller?" you chirp.

"yeah, angel?"

"I really didn't like the Harvey."

⏜⃞♡⠀⠀🐰 guess whos baaack???? sorry for the extremely long time i was gone. uni drains me of all my powers. but i wrote this short 2k word story as an apology. dont forget to leave requests guys!!!! muahh i hope you like it.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Omg hey I woul like to request something ! Ken x Reader (male, if possible) where the reader teaches Ken about the real world and they're also very in love. Thank you very much !

When Ken returned to the Real World again, he had a vision similar to Barbie's--realizing his owner was nearby.

Instead of a child....it's you, an adult who (like Gloria) inadvertently projected your own insecurities onto him while looking at an unboxed Beach Ken doll in your attic.

When you were younger, you really wanted to play with it unlike other boys who had action figures and nerf guns...but you were sorta shamed into keeping it boxed, as your parents said it would be more "valuable" one day.

Similarly..Ken had been stuck in a box all his life, trapped in the role of Barbie's accessory until recently.

So there's an instant connection when you two meet.

To make a long story short, you're like "ohhh hey I guess I kinda fucked up your mental stability, bro...you wanna come over and we can talk about it, man-to-man?"

He was very eager to go with you and learn more about your world beyond all the patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

You tell him about using your "male privilege" for good, and one defining example was when a random woman taps him on the shoulder, looking terrified and almost in tears.

"H-Hi, um..this is gonna sound really awkward but can you two pretend to be my friends for a second? This guy has been following me-"

"Of course." You reassure her, before looking to the confused Ken and telling him to go along with it.

The creepy guy comes along and backs off when he sees you two standing there protecting this lady, and once he's gone, she thanks you with hugs before leaving.

"I think I did a good job." Ken turns to you for validation, eyes shimmering. "Was that good, [y/n]? I mean playing pretend is all I've ever done so-"

"Yep. You did great." You chuckle, patting his shoulder. "I'm glad she thought you were a safe person to approach."

He nods and is giddy the whole way back home, especially when you get into your car and show him the different mechanisms, with him clinging to every detail.

These life lessons you're teaching him, however, made him think back to the "Kendom"...and he admits to trying to reinvent patriarchy there and feels ashamed of how he treated the Barbies.

He didn't think he'd open up this quickly to you, considering he never had any "manly" talks with other Kens (besides beach-offs).

But besides you being his owner, there's something about you that just made him feel...secure enough to do so. Like he could tell you anything.

You listen and reassure him that acknowledging his mistakes was a great first step to unlearning those toxic mindsets.

With all of that finally hashed out, you decide to show him the simple pleasures of the real world. Like cooking, watching TV, playing video games, etc.

Just mundane things you regularly do, with Ken picking up on some of your habits/routines as well as having some independence of his own.

You two grow closer as a result over the next few weeks, and you began falling for him and his humor and his charming smiles-

Yeah, you're 100% smitten for this doll who crossed worlds to meet you.

But you're not sure if he felt (or even could feel) the same way, since he was made to love Barbie and was...clearly still getting over his "breakup" with her. So you left it be.

That changes when you show him some emotional movie where the lead male characters showed vulnerability (ie Good Will Hunting or Brokeback Mountain) and he unconsciously holds your hand as he stares at the screen, tears staining his cheeks.

While the credits roll, your heart melts as he looks at you with those pretty blue eyes, his watery smile persistent.

"Th-Thanks for showing me this, [y/n].."

"Of course, Ken. Now you know that us guys don't always have to pretend to be tough. We're allowed to have feelings." You rub your thumb across his knuckles, a sweet gesture which makes him blush.

On the subject of feelings, he realizes that the ones he has for you are...leaning more into romance than "bromance" (yeah you taught him that term and it's part of his vocabulary now).

He becomes uncharacteristically quiet when you ask him what's on his mind, before he leans in to kiss you on the cheek. Purely on impulse.

You're both flustered at what happened, yet he panics internally when you don't say anything, trying to get up to leave so you didn't see him cry over the stupid decision he made-

"Ken, it's okay." You take his hands, convincing him to sit back down. "I had no idea you swung that way, but I'm...actually glad."

"Glad? Y-You're not...mad or anything?" He sniffles.

"Of course not. I....was planning to come out of the closet sooner or later. I just didn't know when or how to bring it up, but....I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, thank god."

"So...does this makes us boyfriend and g....boyfriend?"

"If you want it to be, sure. I wouldn't mind a handsome doll being the love of my life." You wink.

Ken mirrors your smile, relieved to know you reciprocated his feelings.

Then he gets stumped on something and his eyebrows furrow.

"Wait...what closet were you talking about?"

Oh boy.

You just chuckle and give him a kiss on the lips.

Falling in love with a Ken doll from Barbieland certainly wasn't on your bucket list....

But you're perfectly content with that.

[heartofsol]

Elise & the Duke

Elise's relationship with her father isn't discussed very much. I think it's actually one of the most interesting aspects about 06.

In a flashback, he's shown telling a young Elise "Don't cry" and "Become a strong queen who doesn't cry no matter what happens" in response to her grieving over her mother's death, which is...not great. A child should be allowed to grieve over their deceased parent. Although the Duke means well and says this because he genuinely believes strong leaders never cry (which is far from the truth), that doesn't make what he's doing okay. It doesn't matter that he's saying it in a soft and gentle tone, either. To a child, it's likely gonna seem like a dismissal of their feelings (which it is). This also shows that he was telling Elise to never cry before he used her as a vessel to seal Iblis.

Another thing I find interesting is that Elise says "I understand everything my parents said to me now." It could imply that Elise's mother held the same sentiment as the Duke, but we don't know for sure.

Now, onto the Solaris Project. Some time before the project began, the Duke told Elise that Solaris' power would allow them to travel through time and rectify past mistakes. The main reason the Duke began the project was so Elise could see her late mother again. Once again, good intentions, but the Duke experimenting with supernatural forces beyond his understanding cost him his life and hurt many people, perhaps his daughter most of all.

So long story short, the project goes wrong and the Duke is fatally wounded in an explosion but shortly before his death, he sealed the Flames of Disaster in Elise and pretty much left her clean up his mess. She was cursed to never shed a single tear, had to rule an entire kingdom at a young age, is relentlessly pursued and kidnapped by a madman who wants to harness her power, and when she makes a single friend, he gets murdered right before her eyes by the creature that her father experimented on all those years ago. Elise is suffering the consequences for her father's actions.

And how does Elise feel about her father after all this? She still loves him deeply. She doesn't express any anger towards him or angst about the way he treated her, or that he inadvertently caused her suffering, even though she has every right to do so. You get the sense that she doesn't even realize her father's "love" was actually quite abusive, which is just really tragic. She's been conditioned to accept this as her role in life and you can see it in her behavior. At the start of the game, Elise lacks confidence, is unsure of what she can do in her situation, and even blames herself for the things that are happening. Her attitude gradually changes when she meets Sonic, who encourages her to be more proactive and truly enjoy life instead of being restricted by her role as a princess.

Yet people get on Elise's case for breaking down once at the tail end of the game over the fact that she'd lose the memories of her only friend and would be separated from him?

Elise doesn't mean what she said in this moment, and blows out Solaris' flame to save the world seconds later. She had to bottle up her emotions for a decade and now has to say goodbye to the person whom she grew to love over the course of their adventure. Her reaction here is more than justified.

Elise is such a good character 🤍

[bonsai-babies]

Proving how easy it is to write BASIC compelling arcs for Sam LaRusso (1/2)

This last season's (and others) treatment of Samantha is unforgivable, I did this out of spite whenever I had the time to write, so here goes. (part 2)

main conflicts .

KARATE TRAUMA — Sam was raised under Daniel's and Mr. Miyagi's teachings from day one. She loved training with her dad and ojichan because to her it was a fun game at the time. Then, as she grew out of toddlerhood it became a serious martial arts training. Daniel and Miyagi knew it was important to raise a girl who could defend herself in a world that was out to get them, plus they had this time to bond and spend high-quality time together. After the death of Mr Miyagi, Sam feels triggered by Karate. It reminds her too much of him and how soon he was taken from them. It reminded her how Karate couldn't save him. She stopped believing Karate could ever save her too.

SURVIVING HIGH SCHOOL — Until High School, Sam was a proud nerd who had the best time with Aisha. However, as time went by, she observed how nerds and unpopular people were harassed and humiliated. Not only that, but by the last half of her elementary school experience she was being bullied alongside Aisha and grew really scared of what was coming for her in High School. Which is why she did her best to fit in with the cool kids and change her whole self. It was something incredibly hard and draining to do. The whole time she felt anxious, like they'd find out she was a farce at any moment. She felt guilty and conflicted for leaving Aisha and turned a blind eye to all the bad things her group did, as a way to guarantee her stay. The series then explores this, the consequences of her choices, how they turn against her, how she deals with becoming the popular crowd's main target for a long while, the psychological scars, and finally: how she slowly rebuilds her self-confidence and how she does everything to make up for what she was complacent with for Aisha.

development .

KARATE TRAUMA — How Robby changes everything The arrival of Robby in her family's life brings not only fulfillment for her dad who craved a student, but it also causes the first sparkle that should heal her heart wounds about karate. He's a new, bright, kind, and gentle reminder of what it was like to train with her dad and Mr. Miyagi. He makes her remember the joy of practicing it, the gratification of refining a technique, the importance of a bond with fight mates, and the happiness she can still experience despite her awful loss. He's the key to bringing her back and inadvertently shows her the way to soothe her wounds about her past. This creates a tight bond between the two and makes them excellent fighters, especially together.

SURVIVING HIGH SCHOOL — Everlasting Consequences Sam won't escape the result of her choice, which means that even though she makes progress with Aisha, they won't get back to being friends like before, and that's when Tory shows, and Sam is incredibly jealous because she knows she fucked up and her old best friend is now in arms with this new beautiful fearless girl whom she can't ever compete with. Cue the start of sapphic drama for my own indulgence. On top of that, she'll forever be treated as persona non grata by the popular crowd who will take every chance to harass and create rumors about her.

[hanni-simp]

S1 Gi-hun meeting Dae-ho has built itself a home in my brain so here are some headcanons I suppose:

•Their first introductions are fairly similar, except it’s a bit later in the games! Dae-ho’s about to run out of time in dalgona, and it’s seeing Gi-hun start licking the cookie he’s got that allows Dae-ho to get it out in time!

•Gi-hun tries to wave him off later when Dae-ho thanks him, but Dae-ho just keeps talking about how smart the idea was and how grateful he is that Gi-hun inadvertently saved his life. And after that, he’s just integrated into their little group.

•Dae-ho doesn’t really respect Gi-hun as much? This version of Gi-hun is much more jovial and much less sure of himself. And in my head, there’s two different sides to Dae-ho. The PTSD-ridden Marine trying to seem strong, like his dad had wanted. And the little brother he grew up being. With Gi-hun commanding far less respect, the “little brother” side of Dae-ho is brought out more.

•In other words, Gi-hun gets Bothered.

•He will not hesitate to pull the, “This is how you treat the man who saved your life?” card. No, he doesn’t care that he rejected the title at first. It’s his now.

•His insistence on being a marine actually does make Gi-hun feel a bit safer, with his nature still being more predisposed to hope than it is to fear. Whenever Gi-hun’s trying to get people’s spirits up, he throws in the fact that they’ve got a marine in their team.

•Dae-ho wakes up sometime during the night while they’re keeping watch, and he’s the one who sees Gi-hun having the flashback. At first, he doesn’t say anything because of how unique of an opportunity it feels to watch yourself in someone else. Then, he asks Gi-hun when he’d seen. But even once he’s been opened up to, Dae-ho doesn’t share his own experience.

•Instead, he stays quiet to appear strong. So that he’ll be able to protect his team. Because if he breaks their perception, the faith Gi-hun carries in him could snap.

•Dae-ho to me seems like someone who needs to be led, or at least directed. There’s a good reason his first instinct was to listen to (and eventually team up with) the stranger yelling rules at him, y’know? All this to say I think in tug of war he would be listening to whatever’s being commanded of him first and asking questions later. I mean, he is a military man.

•Post-game, Gi-hun thanks him for being so unfettering in his trust. At this point, there’s little joy to make jabs at Dae-ho with, so Gi-hun just sort of says something along the lines of, “Good job, soldier.” In an inbetween kind of voice.

•Dae-ho does NOT analyze the fact that he can’t stop thinking about those three words for the next few hours.

•They pair up in the marble game, and Dae-ho does not take the news well. I can’t even imagine him trying to play until Gi-hun himself sits him down and emphasizes that if they don’t, they’ll both die. And that this is nothing more than a game. Even as Gi-hun himself is fully panicking.

•Whoever makes it out is irreparably changed. If it is Dae-ho, he’s essentially lost. Not because of what’s happened itself, but more so since he’d have to break his adherence to structure if he were to win. Gi-hun’s impossibly desperate, he shows little remorse to broken commands. Dae-ho does Not share this sentiment, and most likely having to stray from it in the marble game would be horrible for him, mentally.

[lemonsprite]

𝐕𝐨𝐰𝐬 || 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫

Summary: The Inquisitor enjoys seeing Cullen flustered much to Ser Rutherford’s disapproval Word count: 492 A/N: this isn’t necessarily an x reader but more so a fic about Cullen and my female inquisitor Fiona (because I love them my little boopsies). That being said I’m not gonna use a name but I will be using she/her pronouns and describing her appearance-wise like my inquisitor so if you want to interpret this as an x reader be my guest just know it’s not really intended to be one!! >< Warnings: none!!

It was hard for him to focus.

Cullen was supposed to be inspecting the newest recruits forms- making sure they knew which side to grip their blade from and how to properly hold their shields, not stumble around like a blundering idiot.

But oh it was impossible. The inquisitor was much to pretty to be out on a battle field like this.

Her pale skin turned rosy from the cold, her breaths coming out in clouds of air each time she spoke.

Speaking of which, Cullen had not been listening to a single word she’d been saying. Far too busy nodding his head and staring at the way her golden eyelashes fluttered with each blink.

“Do you take vows?” Asked the inquisitor, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her pointed ear.

“Excuse me?” Flustered Cullen, snapping from his reverie to look the inquisitor in her eyes before clearing his throat.

“The order.” She smiled, clearly sensing that Cullen’s mind had been elsewhere during their conversation. Cullen groaned internally, wishing he could kick himself in the head.

“We uh… vow to serve the Maker yes.” He explained, busying his hands with straightening invisible wrinkles in his jacket. “And to protect the world from dangerous uses of magic.”

The inquisitor hummed thoughtfully, rocking back and forth on her heels playfully before shooting Cullen a small smile.

“And physical temptations… do templars have to abstain from such things?” She asked, her wide eyes much to kind to be hinting at such things.

Cullen’s face went bright pink, choking on his own spit in an attempt to respond to the inquisitor.

“We um- uh… I-“ he stumbled, coughing slightly as he cleared his throat. “We can marry your worship… but uh… templars seldom do so…”

The inquisitor seemed to pout playfully at that, though the mirth in her eyes spoke unsaid volumes to how much fun she was having teasing Cullen.

“Some templars do vow celibacy in dedication to the maker however…” Cullen explained, trying to retain a modicum of decency trying to push the sudden barrage of unwanted thoughts pertaining to him and the inquisitor from his mind.

“And have you?” She asked, that deceptively adorable smile gracing her lips once more. “Taken such a vow?”

“No…” Cullen coughed, kicking himself mentally for responding to quickly. Don’t look so desperate Rutherford…

“Maker can we please speak of something else?” Begged the previous Templar knight, his skin felt like it was on fire and if his heart were to beat any faster Cullen feared dropping to the floor dead in front of all his new recruits.

“Mm… I suppose…” sighed the inquisitor teasingly, giving in to this torturous game of cat and mouse between them. “Tell me about life in the Circle Cullen.”

Andraste, the way she can change the subject like she wasn’t just inadvertently asking to pin Cullen to the wall five seconds ago.

Maker knows this inquisition will be the death of him.

HIHIHI Sorry for being dead I almost failed college el-oh-el but everything’s okay now!!!! I had my birthday last week and have been chilling in my dorm with my kitty (my ass somehow escaped academic probation) for the last few days when I decided to finally finish one of my drafts TT I hope you enjoyed this short Drabble

[average-hyperfixator]

I've been having a goddamn conniption over this post (user cropped out bc I do not like starting discourse or inadvertently getting people harassed. if you find the og post do NOT harass them. This post is just my response to this take on this fictional character. I'm likely going to get heated because this game is a hyperfixation of mine, so I feel some stronger emotions about it. Any anger I have is pointed at the opinion and not the person. okay moving on.)

This take somehow manages to miss almost every major story beat of Curly's character and SOMEHOW takes his depression and turns it into a belief system. Like. I don't even know how this conclusion was reached???

Curly is not fatalist he's literally depressed and feels trapped in his life. yk. like. like how depressed people often feel. He's reached the top rung of the ladder in the corporation he's in and realizes he may have picked the wrong career altogether, and feels trapped because of it; that's not believing in fate. Nowhere in the game does it even IMPLY that Curly is fatalist.

here I have compiled screenshots that in fact prove the opposite

you see, if he thought the future was predetermined; why on earth would he talk about changing it? About doing something different, taking a leap? Why would he ponder trying to make a better life for himself if he thought there was no other way things could be?

like I hope we're looking at the same fatalism definition

Honestly, the only argument I even need to refute the point "Curly uses fatalism to avoid responsibility" is the fact he went into the cockpit before the crash. If he truly was resigned to fate, he would've continued to stand frozen outside, and wouldn't have done ANYthing. But he tries to change the outcome. He runs in there, and tries to save his crew. He (at least tries to) takes RESPONSIBILITY for JIMMY'S actions and his OWN INACTION in that moment.

Also. "Curly knows he's doing wrong" What? His worst crime is being too nice. His fatal error is trusting in Jimmy too much, NOT thinking he does no wrong. I don't even know how to disprove that because it's so fucking off character that there is nothing I could even show. yk I'm abt 90% this rant would make more sense if you just. Talked about Jimmy being a fatalist. Because he's literally the guy who thinks he does no wrong, and thinks he fixed everything, and that all the harm that happened was "out of his control, and had to happen, there was no other way!!" I still feel like it's a stretch even for his character but it makes more sense than using CURLY?? Curly is fucking depressed, not fatalist, and certainly not the main antagonist??? That's something I'm not even gonna touch on in-depth because that opinion is beyond the realm of saving. The antagonists of the game are explicitly the company Pony Express and Jimmy. The morally grey characters who could have acted more but didn't (mostly) are Curly and Swansea.

Curly still does shit wrong, yeah, but not because he believes his actions don't matter. Most of his inaction comes from his complex friendship with Jimmy and the looming threat of the company, not a belief system.

I don't even know how to TLDR this. Just. Curly is not the bad guy for being depressed and feeling trapped.

if anyone wants to reblog/comment to add onto this with stuff I might've missed go ahead I definitely left out stuff. This was made in a kind of angry headspace, I am so sorry for the swearing I'm not usually an angry person. Again my anger is towards the opinions not the creator of them. Again again, if you find op (doubtful) do NOTTTTT harass them for the love of everything. Debate and discussion are always open ofc, and if I get into a debate with someone I will not be as upset as I am here because that will not be productive at all lmao. Sorry if I seem super angry or bitchy here augh I just really like Mouthwashing and Curly and felt like this did him SUCH a disservice. Okay rant officially over.

[smol-tired-binch-blog]

Von Zarovich siblings

We have Strahd (23), Svetlana (25), Stanimir and Slavko (16), Sasha (12), and Sergei (5)

Background/headcanon under the cut:

So, admittedly a LOT of this is is just gonna be PURE speculation/projection from me, but hey, canon has One (1) Sibling set in stone and the rest is fair game. May this change if I learn more about him? Possibly, but my DM hasn't told me any of this doesn't fit so we'll keep it.

In my head, their mother had her first child at around 17/18, which was Svetlana, and then basically IMMEDIATELY after her husband was VERY keen to get a son, and so Strahd was born soon after. The twins were born a few years later, but tbh I reckon their father as the kind of man who still wanted to have as many heirs as possible just in case the first one dies or fucks up, so there may have been a couple of unsuccessful pregnancies along the way. Poor Lady Von Zarovich. She needs a cane to walk before she's 40 (what's that another reason for Strahd to subconsciously fear aging and the passing of time no waaaay)

I don't think any of these kids were particularly close with each other, the Zarovich household doesn't feel like a family that encourages outward signs of affection and I don't think it comes naturally to them (and when it does, it's discouraged, either purposefully or inadvertently). Sasha's the most sensitive, a quiet girl who just wants to avoid being in trouble.

Despite this lack of closeness, Svetlana was very much the Eldest Daughter and felt (and was made to) the need to look out for her younger siblings. In fact, she's the reason this painting exists; it was taken in the build-up to her wedding, as this would be the last time she and all her siblings would be back home together in one place. It's the happiest any of them have ever looked in a portrait.

On several occasions, the few times she saw him, she tried to offer to introduce Strahd to some nice noble ladies for him to settle down and marry. After all, as the eldest son, it first fell to him to continue the Zarovich name, right? But he always brushed her off, saying that could wait, his first priority was military conquest, he had time. In fact, tell you what Lana, after he's taken over this latest valley, THEN he'll let you find him a bride. It's just a small little valley, easy to conquer, surely these dusk elves won't prove too much trouble? We'll save those details for another post.

In fact, she helped find partners for all her siblings. Sure, 'love' was never a priority, but she felt more confident she could find them a suitable partner who they'd ALSO like and be cared for, not just letting political alliances take priority. That's her responsibility, as the eldest.

All the boys were expected to achieve greatness, and they mostly went for military prowess. Slavko in particular excelled, very confident in that one day he may even surpass his older brother. After all, whilst a mighty warrior, Strahd always preferred the role of tactician, of planning, of strategy. Not Slavko, he was straight in there with a sword, ready to fight whoever and whatever. His twin, though, was better suited to diplomacy. He was slighter, weaker, but cleverer. In another time, these two would have been the ones to have something of a Cain and Abel relationship....however, that never came to be. Slavko died on the battlefield shortly after he turned 30 (even if he didn't our boy Strahd blew them out of the water like GODDAMN DUDE)

Sasha fell ill in her mid 30s, and she too tragically passed away, her daughters and older sister by her side. A sister who watched too many of her siblings die before their time.

Svetlana lived a long life, raised her two sons well, but carried the heavy weight of her family's tragedy for the rest of her days. Stanimir, too, lived a good life, but even after having his own heirs, there was a melancholy relief that the Zarovich name soon faded out after their time. It carried far too much with it.

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine Arthur Curry inadvertently hurting your feelings.

Earlier that week, he was at it again. Arthur, with his constant talk about how Atlantis is so full of adventure and excitement, when he’s not sitting on the throne anyway, so many different stories about a whole separate life that he lived down there. “You don’t get it - they almost started taking me too seriously down there!” Which sounded like the truth, because the council was always pulling him away from his fun and games - but most importantly, you. So it hurt when he would stay down there for longer than he needed, just to ride Storm around and try to race other creatures.

Yes, Arthur was the King of Atlantis, but as a human woman, you would never get to be the Queen, therefore half of his life was separated from you. He didn’t have to keep reminding you of it though - the empty bed in the morning, the dishes left in the sink, the stories he’d tell while drinking beer after beer on your couch - they did that for him.

Arthur, though he hadn’t meant to, hurt you whenever he forced you to remember that you weren’t ever going to be a part of every facet of his life, like you had invited him to be in yours.

The final blow was when he had come in three hours late for your anniversary dinner, and seemed like he had entirely forgotten about it. You had already eaten the nice dinner that you had made, changed out of the dress that you bought for this occasion into your pajamas, and were laying out by the television, watching Legally Blonde and totally agreeing with the scene where she throws the chocolates at her own television, claiming men are liars. In came Arthur, proving that point.

If the neighbors didn’t call the cops, you would be lucky at that point, because you sat up with tear tracks running down your face, and you let him have it. “Arthur, I get it, okay, you’re the King and you have all of these responsibilities and I’m so proud of you, really, I am. Your accomplishments are great, but - do you know how much it just hurts me, exhausts me, to know that … that you don’t belong with me up here, that you’ll probably fall in love with someone down there who can experience all of those things that you love and .. one day you’ll just leave me here, all alone?”

From the look on his face, he really hadn’t known a thing about how you were feeling.

“And another thing! Arthur, you missed our anniversary, to do .. what? You better have a good reason for it, for not even trying to call me because … because it broke my heart tonight,” You said, letting out a deep breath that it felt like you had been holding onto for ages. He looked surprised, and then he looked guilty and ashamed of himself, which - as bad as it sounded, made you feel validated.

“I’m sorry. Your night was wasted and - I’m really sorry for that.” Arthur hung his head down, his bushy brown hair creating a curtain around his head. Then he knelt down in front of the couch, taking both of your hands in his, stroking the back of them. When he finally looked at you, there was only apologies and love in there, and it made your heart beat faster, the sensation of what his presence had always done to you taking over again.

Arthur’s eyes were so light right then, like the ocean on a sunny day. “If there’s anything that I can do to make it up to you…”

Secretly, you had a whole list of things in your head that he could do. Arthur could get on his knees and beg your forgiveness, or he could make you dinner instead of you doing it for him, or he could bring you to the old dance-hall and give you a twirl on the dance floor like he had on one of your dates, but at the same time, you wanted him to come to these realizations on his own.

He looked so earnestly at you. He looked so ready to do anything that you would ask of him, even if it was something silly like do the chicken dance or run to the only open store on the other side of town and get your favorite snacks. For you, anything.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” You sighed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and nuzzling it softly - almost using him as a tissue to get rid of the last of your tears. He didn’t seem to mind this either, his thumb grazing under your eye to catch the smudged mascara. “Some of me wants to know what you were doing out so late, should I even ask?”

“Shit, I was being an idiot,” He admitted, looking away bashfully. “You said you might have had to work today so I spent most of the night preparing for us to celebrate tomorrow…”

Your eyes went wide as you remembered that you had told him that. That you hadn’t told him you took the night off, because you were hoping that this was going to be a surprise. He continued on. “I don’t know much beyond burgers and beers but I was at that new place downtown, the fancy one - I had to go there and talk them into giving me a reservation for tomorrow night - apparently they were booked up but for me, they’ll put in an extra table.”

Oh, you felt the love then, how could you not? You let go of his hands and flung your arms around him, holding him tight after cursing him all evening, mentally chiding yourself for doubting this amazing man for even a moment.

Requested by: Anonymous