#torn between feeling like you don’t want to talk to me and worrying that you can’t talk to me

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto's obsession p.3

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this part and if you've missed part 2 here it is :)

You stood frozen for a moment as George stormed off, the weight of his words sinking in. Your heart ached, torn between the love for your brother and the complex feelings you had for Toto. The sting of George’s accusations—his belief that you were being manipulated—made you question everything, even if just for a brief moment. But you couldn’t believe that about Toto. You knew he cared about you. Didn’t he?

Wiping away the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes, you took a deep breath and turned back to Toto’s office. As you walked, your mind was swirling with confusion and worry. You were worried for George, for the way he’d reacted, and for how this would affect everything—his career, their relationship. And, despite George’s anger, you were also worried about Toto. He’d been hit, and the tension between him and your brother felt like it could boil over at any moment.

When you stepped back into the office, Toto was still sitting at his desk, the same calm, composed demeanor on his face, though his eyes softened when they landed on you. He stood up slowly, his hand reaching out for you as you approached him, his expression unreadable but controlled.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice steady as he pulled you into his arms. You leaned into him, grateful for the comfort, though your heart still felt heavy with everything that had just happened. His hands rubbed gentle circles on your back, calming you in a way only he seemed capable of. “Come here, love.”

“I tried to talk to him,” you whispered, your voice small against his chest. “But he’s so angry, Toto. He thinks… he thinks you’re manipulating me. That you’re using me.” Your words trembled, the doubt creeping in despite yourself.

Toto’s grip tightened around you, and he sighed softly, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice calm and controlled. “George is protective of you. He doesn’t understand yet. He’s young, impulsive. This is a lot for him to take in.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your brows furrowed with worry. “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me? He sounded so… hurt.”

Toto cupped your face, his thumb gently brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had escaped. “He’ll come around, sweetheart. Give him time,” he said softly, his gaze tender as he looked down at you. “He’s your brother. He loves you, even if he doesn’t understand this right now.”

You nodded, trying to believe his words, but there was still a part of you that couldn’t shake the tension between them. “But what about you?” you asked, your voice laced with concern. “He hit you, and I’m scared he’ll never accept us.”

Toto smiled softly, his hand slipping from your cheek to your waist, pulling you closer again. “I can handle George. This was bound to happen eventually. But for now…” He paused, his gaze darkening with that familiar possessiveness that always made your heart skip a beat. “For now, you’re here. With me. Let’s not worry about him.”

You swallowed, nodding again, but there was still a knot of worry in your chest. You cared about both of them, and the thought of them at odds because of you felt unbearable.

Toto tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You don’t need to worry about me or George right now,” he murmured. “Stay with me, Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

His words were soothing, wrapping you in the security that only he could provide. You trusted him—despite everything, despite George’s accusations. Toto had been there for you in ways no one else had. He made you feel safe, cherished. And now, more than ever, you wanted to believe that what you had with him was real.

From Toto’s perspective, however, the moment played out with a sense of satisfaction. He had anticipated George’s reaction the moment he decided to pursue you, but this confrontation—it was necessary. George’s fury, his punch, his outburst—all of it had only confirmed what Toto already knew: George would react emotionally, without thinking strategically.

And now, with George out of the way, even if only temporarily, Toto had you exactly where he wanted. His grip tightened subtly around your waist as he held you close. He looked down at you, your innocent eyes filled with concern, your worry for both him and your brother touching—but misplaced. You didn’t see the full picture. You couldn’t. And that was exactly how Toto wanted it.

He had known from the moment he met you that he couldn’t let you slip through his fingers. The sweetness in your smile, the soft way you spoke, the innocence you carried—he had seen it all and recognized the rare treasure that you were. And now, George’s anger had only solidified his resolve.

This was his chance to keep you to himself, away from prying eyes, from your brother’s influence. George didn’t understand yet, but he would. Or, at least, he would learn to stay out of the way. Toto’s lips curled into a faint smile as he kissed the top of your head, his hold on you both protective and possessive.

“Stay with me,” he repeated softly, his voice carrying a subtle command. “You don’t need to go anywhere else.”

You looked up at him, trusting, innocent to the depth of his obsession. “Okay,” you whispered, leaning into his embrace, allowing him to envelop you fully.

In this moment, you felt safe with Toto, comforted by his presence, while completely unaware of the lengths he was willing to go to keep you by his side.

Toto smiled again, a quiet victory settling in his chest. George might have had his outburst, but the outcome was inevitable. You were his now, and nothing—no one—would come between you. Not even your brother.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[anifever]

Hii, can you make Johnny cade or the gang with reader kinda like Charlotte LA Bouff from princess and the frog because I'm just thinking that it would be so interesting having kind of s/o so spoiled but kind and not a brat too, I love Lottie tho✨😭

Gang w/ a Lottie!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a reader whose like Charlotte La Bouff from “Princess and the Frog”

A/N : AHHH I’m sorry this took me so long I’ve been busy w other stuff. Anyways, I always wanted to be Lottie when I was younger 🥲 hopefully I got this close enough to her character also sorry these are shorter than normal <\3

˖⁺‧₊˚ 🎀 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ He’s honestly a little jealous of you

୨ He feels like you have everything he doesn’t

୨ That being said, does NOT stop the man from loving you once he sees how sweet and generous you are

୨ Your personalities are super different tho

୨ You’re so bubbly and bright and he thinks it’s endearing

୨ You definitely keep him on his toes

୨ You also keep him young

୨ Whenever he seems to be struggling more than usual with finances, you swoop in and save the day

୨ He’s like “??? Honey, I can’t take this,” and you’re just like “Too late, Dare-Bear, don’t worry about it 😊”

୨ Whenever you sleep over you wear a frilly pink sleep mask he has trouble not smiling over

୨ You love his cooking and are always drooling over it

୨ It’s a habit for you to bring pastries, etc from a bakery on the other side of town whenever you come over

୨ Earlier in the relationship/before you started dating, he knew how spoiled you were and he was like “..how am I supposed to compete with this.”

୨ Luckily you find him extremely muscly, attractive, and sweet so it makes up for his money 😋😋

୨ Either way, he still buys you whatever he can when he has the spare cash

୨ You have him wrapped around your finger

Two-Bit

୨ Couldn’t hold back his laugh when he saw a childhood picture of you dressed as a princess for Halloween

୨ You guys honestly go together so well

୨ If you have the same type of accent Lottie has- even better

୨ The first thing you said when you met his sister was “Well aren’t you as pretty as a peach!”

୨ Safe to say that made him more smitten

୨ You walk him like a dog it’s so funny

୨ He doesn’t spend as much money on beer anymore cuz he saves a lot up for you

୨ Found a stray kitty on the street and you started squealing when he brought it to you

୨ He was cheesing from ear to ear

୨ Has tried to get you to kiss a frog before after you told him you always wanted to when you were younger (mwahaha) and you freaked out

୨ That being said, he picks up random bugs all the time to try and gross you out- which works

୨ You never hurt them though⁉️⁉️ You just run away and start screaming

୨ Whenever he starts insulting people if they’re mean to you or something, you start dying of laughter which spurrs him on more

Steve

୨ He’s torn between thinking you’re a brat to also being extremely attracted to you

୨ He assumes you’re a mean girl who lives off daddy’s money (the second part being lowkey true)

୨ Doesn’t stop him from drooling tho

୨ Contrary to popular belief, you were actually really nice

୨ Like you came into the DX one day, giving him a huge tip while talking super animatedly and he was just like “Ah..”

୨ Whenever he talks about cars you have no clue what he’s talking about

୨ You have a pretty pink ‘62 Ferrari 250 GTO and that’s all you know!!

୨ You buy new clothes constantly and have lil’ fashion shows for him

୨ “Yeahhh, could you jus’ spin around one more time so I can see the back? 😇”

୨ “….Steve.”

୨ Whenever nobody else is around (Soda, etc) at the DX, you give him WAY bigger of a tip than normal lmao

୨ Brags about you to Soda all the time

Dallas

୨ He thought you were so annoying at first I’m sorry 😭

୨ Even with that, he still tried to get in your pants

୨ You slapped him for it which just made him want you more (he’s on that freak timing)

୨ You know what you want and he’s honestly really attracted to it

୨ He ends up spoiling you though, he can’t help it when you give him puppy dog eyes and pout your glossy lips

୨ Hilariously different

୨ Whenever he’s in your room he’s so out of place

୨ He’s surrounded by so much pink, stuffed animals, expensive jewelry and clothes, a big canopy bed, a crystal chandelier, etc

୨ His ego gets boosted when he’s out in public with you

୨ Like he’s with the prettiest and richest girl in town??? Yeahhh he’ll never let this go

୨ You not caring about his/his friends status’ is really important to him and he appreciates it even though he’ll never outright say it

Soda

୨ You guys both have a big line of people who want you

୨ Power couple!!

୨ You’re really ditzy- not necessarily stupid, but not all there

୨ He relates.

୨ You guys just sit there and look pretty

୨ Like you definitely have won various beauty pageants and have kept all the tiaras and sashes

୨ Makes you try the tiaras on every time he comes over

୨ He takes you to a drag race or rodeo and you’re like “Shew- Soda, I’m sweatin’ like a sinner in church,” while fanning yourself

୨ Probably because you’re wearing some expensive dress from a boutique in town made with thick material, but he’ll never smart off to you by saying that 🤍🤍

୨ Has a habit of ruining his DX shirt and you always pay for him to get a new one

୨ He already knew he was attractive, but it was only when you came along and started buttering him up that he started getting giddy about it

୨ He sucks up so hard to your mom and dad; they love him

Johnny

୨ Probably teased you a bit with Pony before you guys officially met

୨ After the initial iffy feeling he had about you wore off, he was head over heels when he knew you better

୨ He genuinely sees you as a princess

୨ You’re always wearing some shade of pink and some form of pearls and he’s mesmerized

୨ He thinks you deserve a lot better since he can’t give you much

୨ You literally couldn’t care less though since he treats you so well

୨ He’ll save up random coins off the street if he had to tho

୨ Your house is huge so you let him stay in a spare room which eventually just becomes his own

୨ Your house also did nothing to help his idea of you being a princess since it was way bigger and more extravagant than anything he could’ve imagined

୨ Your cat(s) love him, he’s a little overwhelmed at first but after that you’ll always find him with one around/on him

୨ You’re so comfortable fawning over him constantly and he gets pretty embarrassed about it LMAO

Pony

୨ He has a thing for pretty rich girls so this is fitting

୨ Once again, he also assumed you were mean and stuck up

୨ When you guys talked for the first time, he was definitely surprised

୨ You were definitely a bit out of touch with reality, but who cares!!!! You were pretty and nice!!!!

୨ Saw you stand up for one of your greaser friends once and felt his heart skip a beat

୨ Heard through the grapevine (he asked around) that you were enamored with some ‘pretty boy’ and couldn’t stop talking about him and he was like “Awww shucks 😞”

୨ He became extremely confused and denied it when Two and Johnny kept saying it was him after they saw you two interact at school

୨ He finally picked up on the heavy flirting one day and was like “…OHHHH”

୨ Whenever you get excited about something, he has a hard time understanding you since you start talking so fast and freaking out, but he just watches with a lovesick grin

୨ Your sass put together is on another level

୨ It scares Darry.

୨ And Steve.

୨ Back to the point I made earlier, you’d stand up for him about his status no matter what

୨ So in love it’s nasty

୨ Everyone in the gang is confused about how he bagged you especially considering he’s the youngest

[littlebearbun]

Stanley Pines x Reader; Mixed Priorities (nsfw, afab reader)

I just realized I never put this on Tumblr......

(tw: blood)

You should have been more worried.

There had been…zombies. Zombies, and Stan had protected you, Dipper, and Mabel from them. Now, you sat cross legged on your guest bed and Stan appeared in the doorway, suit torn, hair a mess, fez missing, lip split.

A drip of blood trailed down to his chin and he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. You followed the motion, telling yourself you were just worried about him and ignoring the way your mouth watered.

“You alright, toots?” Stan asked. You nodded, and only then did he relax and step into your room, as if finally able to pass a barrier.

“That was…amazing, Stanley,” you said softly, and Stan chuckled, shrugging his broad shoulders.

“It was nothin’.” You stood just before he was within your reach and gripped the lapels of his jacket.

You didn’t know what to feel. Relief that he seemed ok, as you smoothed your hands down his chest. Residual fear from what had happened. And a deep, shameful feeling, one that you wouldn’t-couldn’t-voice.

Stanley had been a vision. Powerful swings of his fists, brass knuckles gleaming in the dim light of the shack, all determination and skill and…

You weren’t sure you had ever wanted someone so badly.

“…….just protecting you.” You blinked, refocusing, eyes trained on his mouth, realizing Stan was still talking. A light flush colored your cheeks. You couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in thought like that.

Stan was staring at you now, though, head cocked, eyes slightly narrowed.

“What'cha thinking about, doll?” He asked, and took a step closer. You shook your head.

“Just how good you are to us,” you said, which was true, but also a lie by omission.

“Mn,” he hummed, “I’m not sure that’s all.” And suddenly his hand was at your chin, bloody thumb at your lower lip and smearing red across your mouth. You gasped, body going rigid, and Stan’s eyes went just a bit darker.

“I knew it. I thought I knew that look. You thought just because I was busy taking care of my family that I wouldn’t notice that my girl was wantin’?” His voice had dropped considerably, resonating in the marrow of your bones and dropping to the spiking heat between your legs. “You like a little rough, don’t you? Like knowing that I can keep you safe.”

You nodded mutely. Stan pressed his thumb against your lips and parted them, slipping his finger into your mouth to press down on your tongue. Your eyelids drooped, reveling in the coppery taste as you sucked on his finger without a second thought.

“Ooh, there’s a good princess. Good little bloodslut.” You moaned, face aflame, and Stan smirked wickedly. “Thought I didn’t know, did you? Oh, no. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to call you out.” He yanked his finger out of your mouth, leaving you gasping into his immediate kiss, all tongue and teeth and the overarching taste of his blood.

His calloused fingers made their way past the waistband of your pants and he groaned into your mouth as he made contact with your already soaked panties.

“Fuck,” he murmured into your mouth as you moaned against him and squirmed. “You want this bad, huh? Want me to bloody you up a little?”

“Yes,” you gasped as two of Stan’s lovely, thick fingers fucked up into you and spread.

“Gonna look lovely in red, pumpkin,” he cooed, voice saccharine and dangerous. “Gonna mess you up. Would you like that?”

[mariespen]

hihiii can u write a very argumenty angsty story with rafe anything honestly i just need to read some good ass angst and ur angst is sooo good but yeah that’s if you write this or not that’s okay

rafe Cameron x fem!reader a/n: Hi!! Thank you so much for the request, seeing them makes me so happy :(( So sorry that this took me forever to write, I tried to write it a few times but couldn't embody what I was trying to say. This plot line helped me out honestly! I hope this was what you were hoping for. ILY!! content warnings: description of injury, mention of drugs, angst, arguing and yelling, swearing, happy ending bc I can't do angst without one

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Your face was pale with worry as you stood in the kitchen, trying to distract yourself from your growing anxiety. Your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, was known to get himself in trouble very often. Usually you would be there to pull him out of it, but Rafe had stormed out of the house in a rage around 5 hours ago, shouting something about his new dealer and you knew there wasn’t a word you could’ve said to stop him. You knew that for a fact because you’d been thinking about it since he slammed the door.

The music you were listening to was turned up almost all the way as you attempted to drown out any thought that you could have by using the loudest music you could. However, you had to turn it down because the intense feeling just added to your stress. 

Sitting on the kitchen counter, you scrolled through the many texts that you had sent Rafe over the hours. There wasn’t any sign that he had even seen them and eventually they just stopped going through, a very blatant sign that his phone had died. Eventually you gave up, giving into your anxious tendencies and pacing around the house, your breathing panicked as you checked your phone constantly.

The front door slammed and you flinched at the sound, running out of the living and praying it was Rafe. When you looked at him for the first time that night, his face was bloody and sweat-ridden. His eyes were wide and each of his fists were red with blood that you could bet wasn’t his. Rafe’s hair was scattered and his clothes were torn in a few places, red staining the fabric.

“Rafe..” You said, watching as his dangerous gaze fell onto you.

“Don’t wanna talk about it..” He said, wiping blood from his nose and pushing past you with a grunt, “out of my way.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“What happened?” You asked, following after him. Your heart was pounding with anxiety and anticipation. Your breathing was still quick and panicked as you looked up at him again, wincing at the sight of his face.

“Told you I didn’t want to talk about it.” Rafe spat, putting out his arm to force distance between the two of you. 

“No, you don’t get to do this!” You protested as he stormed away. The worry and concern turned into anger and resentment in your little heart as he gave you another cold shoulder.

“Fuck off, will ya?” He said, not flicking his eyes to you once as he spoke.

“Rafe..” You said softly again, trying to get a better look at his current state. “Jesus! Will you just-“ He said, swatting your hand away, “Just leave me alone!” He stared you down, his voice rising with his anger.

“Please, just tell me you’re okay.” You said breathlessly, starting to pace backwards.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” He said, turning to look at you full on, watching you wince at the sight of his injuries.

You stood back, the feeling of anger burning a hole in your gut.

“God, what is your problem?” You said, muttering your words so that he could barely hear them,

“What was that? What did you say?” He asked, almost like he was challenging you. Instinctively, you look a step back again.

“What is your problem?” You repeated, raising your voice, hesitantly accepting his challenge.

He laughed, a dry and mocking tone as he stared you down. 

“What am I doing wrong?” You took a brave step forward, raising your voice, “I just want to help you!” “Stop! I don’t need you or your help.” Rafe shouted, taking an equal step and shoving a finger into your face.

“Fine.” You whispered, throwing your hands up in surrender and turning your back to him, walking out of the kitchen hesitantly.

You didn’t have a plan when you started to open the front door. Maybe you’d go to Kiara’s house and cry in her bed until the sun came up. Or maybe you’d go to JJ’s just to get Rafe back. God, he’d go crazy knowing that you went to JJ for comfort. You didn’t have to think about it for long, though, because you heard Rafe’s steps behind you.

“That’s not what I meant.” He said, closing the front door before you could leave as he started again, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You turned to look at him, his face still stern and threatening. In that moment, he had nearly lost his soft spot for you. “Why did you leave me?” You asked, your voice cracking as you reduced it to a pathetic whisper.

Rafe’s gaze softened as you watched his emotions flip around in his head. His tight knit eyebrows sunk down as he looked at your tearful eyes and his bloody lips pursed together with regret.

“Baby..” He whispered, slumping down to be closer to your shaking body.

“Don’t..” You whispered, your voice trailing off as you tried to back away, but you just couldn’t. Not when Rafe was looking at you like you were the only woman in the world. Instead, you took a step forward.

“I don’t want to do this, you know that, yeah?” He asked breathlessly, waiting for you to nod hesitantly before he continued, “Don’t want to hurt my baby girl.” Your heart broke he stared down at the ground, trying not to rest himself into your arms.

“Tell me what happened.” You said sternly with a gentle undertone, like a mother lecturing her child.

“I got caught up when I was with Barry and-“ You could tell he was lying by the way his ears turned a hot shade of red.

“Don’t lie.” You interrupted him, reaching up to touch his bloody cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, relaxing into your touch.

“C’mon.” You said with a sigh, watching his face ease up as you spoke again, “M’gonna take care of you and you’re going to tell me what happened, yeah?” He rolled his eyes in a silent protest as he towered over you, eventually pulling back and letting you walk to the kitchen, following you closely.

You sat him at the kitchen island, wiping the blood from his cuts as you waited for him to talk.

“My new dealer gave me the wrong shit.” He grunted, trying to stifle a wince at the wound disinfectant that you were cleaning him up with. His voice was shaky when he continued, “Went to give him a talk and.. y’know.” You didn’t want to push him, so you nodded along with his words. After Rafe’s short truth, you sat in silence and finished bandaging what you could, wrapping his knuckles with different band-aids.

“I’m sorry.” Rafe said when you finished, looking up at you from his seat, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You offered, kissing the bandage on his cheek before helping him up, walking upstairs to your shared bedroom.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, m’kay?” 

He groaned, eventually giving in and reluctantly agreeing.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

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[hollowed-theory-hall]

Still going through the slowest Deathly Hallows reread, and I encountered this lovely Tommarymort moment I felt like sharing. I mean, I saw some people mention how Hermione refers to their mental connection as a relationship:

“You never really tried!” she said hotly. “I don’t get it, Harry—do you like having this special connection or relationship or what—whatever—” She faltered under the look he gave her as he stood up. “Like it?” he said quietly. “Would you like it?” “I—no—I’m sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean—” “I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he’s most dangerous. But I’m going to use it.”

(DH, 202)

Above Harry clearly denies it, but later in Deathly Hallows, there's a moment I didn't see talked about as much, where Harry, in his own mind, agrees with Hermione:

Harry was just able to make out the indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images sharp as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change. He was worried that the connection between himself and Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Hermione, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction of his wand, as if it was the blackthorn wand’s fault that he could no longer see into Voldemort’s mind as well as before

(DH, 375)

Not only did Harry lie to Hermione but he actually prizes his connection to Voldemort for its usefulness and for the sense of purpose it gives Harry. Now, I want to expand on the latter one.

I already talked about how in Deathly Hallows, Voldemort's sole purpose and obsession is Harry, but, Harry isn't much different. Like, he has a few other things going on, but a lot of his sense of purpose and sense of self hinges on Voldemort.

The reason these visions from Voldemort become so important to him is that he feels it's the only useful thing he can do since they're stuck on the Horcruxes' front. They give him a sense of purpose. The fact he connects the loss of his connection with Voldemort and the destruction of his wand is so fascinating to me.

Because Harry's wand is so important to him, he describes it as a piece of himself, like a living thing that is part of him:

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. Harry took it into his hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. He could not think properly. Everything was a blur of panic and fear. Then he held out the wand to Hermione

(DH, 300)

Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count; he had lost all the bones in his right arm once; this journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical power had been torn from him.

(DH, 303)

Connecting something he thinks about like this and his connection to Voldemort is... well, it's interesting, to say the least.

I mean, of course, there is the twin core and its protection, and it's clear why he would connect his wand to Voldemort, but Harry was always fond of his wand despite its connection to Voldemort, not because of it:

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia.

(GoF, 310)

So, I find all this kinda interesting. How during the final book Harry's sense of purpose and being becomes more and more hinged on Voldemort while essentially the same thing is going on with Voldemort who forgot about the ministry entirly and is only focused on killing Harry.

[lushrue]

im absolutely enamoured with your writing, especially the hockey 141!! but omg, simon saying that ‘he didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t land a jump and injured yourself’ makes me desperate to know what would be their reaction if the reader did actually injure themself either during training or an actual competition?

oh, they would for sure be at various levels of freaking out. all four of them are making their way down to the ice as soon as they can, no matter if it’s a competition or just one of your training sessions.

price would be the most level-headed, i think. after all, his team gets hurt all the time on the ice, usually worse than the twisted ankle and sprained wrist reader ends up with. still, it’s you we’re talking about, so it’s a bit harder for him to keep his composure. he’s going into first aid mode, testing your range of motion and asking where exactly it hurts. probably screaming at somebody to get you an ice pack to keep the swelling down. “can’t move it all the way to the right? alright, dove, just hold it still for me.”

ghost is kinda paralyzed. he’s not really good with injured people, never has been. he’s more of a “brush it off and keep going” kinda guy. but when it’s you, he’s resisting any and all attempts to downplay it. there’s the slightest twinge of pain when you put weight on it? nah, you’re staying seated until he can carry you off the ice. he’s for sure gonna treat you like you’re dying. “everythin’ feel alright, lovie? don’t worry, we’ll get ya some help.”

soap is by far the most panicky out of all of them. he’s on his feet as soon as your ass hits the ice, yelling for you without a care for who’s watching. that’s his bonnie, ye ken? it’s almost funny, the way you’re telling him to calm down when you’re the one who’s injured. he’s torn between palpating the injured area to gauge the severity and treating it like broken glass. finally, you manage to snap him out of it enough to get him to help you off the ice. “can ya walk, bonnie? can ya feel yer legs? oh…it’s not that bad?”

kyle is a nice balance between ghost and price, giving you some tender care while keeping a level head. he’s reassuring you, especially if you’re teary-eyed from shock or pain. he’s the most gentle with you, his touch feather-light over your injury as he takes it in. the first thing he does is get you warm, helping you limp off the ice and get settled on the benches. all the while, he’s cooing comfort in your ear to keep you calm. “i know it hurts, pretty. ‘s alright, kyle’s got ya.”

[rosemariiaa]

~It Was Always You-

part 2

pairing- Paige x Azzi

don’t hate me for this 😣

summary: Paige and Azzi's relationship is complicated by misunderstandings and unspoken feelings.

warning: angst..like a lot

Enjoy!!!

Paige stared at the message thread on her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen, contemplating what she was about to do. It was late, past midnight, and she was alone in her room, the silence punctuated by the hum of her ceiling fan. Her heart was heavy, and the weight of her decision felt like a boulder pressing against her chest.

Paige had always known that whatever they had, it wasn’t set in stone. They weren’t officially dating, but there was something between them—something real and raw, since they were just teens. But now, it felt like sand slipping through her fingers, and she couldn’t bear to watch Azzi leave her for someone else, especially not for Nick.

She took a deep breath, her throat tightening as she typed out the words that had been swimming in her mind for days.

Paige: “I think we should stop this, Azzi. I can’t do this anymore.”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself, her heart hammering in her chest as she watched the message deliver. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, her phone buzzed with a reply.

….

Azzi: “What are you talking about, Paige?”

Paige clenched her jaw, her fingers trembling as she typed her response, her eyes stinging with the tears she refused to let fall.

Paige: “You and Nick. I get it, okay? You like him, and I don’t want to be the girl who gets in the way of that.”

There was a long pause, the screen mocking her with its blankness, and then, finally, Azzi’s reply came through.

Azzi: “Paige, it’s not like that. I don’t like Nick.”

Paige’s heart twisted at the words, her resolve wavering, but she forced herself to stay firm. She couldn’t go on like this, living in a constant state of fear and doubt.

Paige: “It doesn’t matter, Azzi. I’m tired of this… of us. It’s too hard.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She threw her phone down on the bed and curled up into herself, the sobs she had been holding back finally breaking free. She had done it—she had ended whatever it was they had. But instead of feeling relieved, she felt like she had torn out a piece of her own heart.

Azzi stared at the last message Paige had sent, her mind reeling. She hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t realized how deeply Paige had been hurting. She had been so caught up in trying to fend off Nick’s advances, making it clear to him that she wasn’t interested, that she hadn’t noticed Paige pulling away.

Nick had been persistent, showing up at her practices, trying to flirt with her at every opportunity. It had annoyed Azzi more than anything else. She had tried to be polite, to let him down easy, but he wasn’t getting the message.

Just yesterday, she had finally told him off, the words harsh as they left her mouth, frustration boiling over. “I’m not interested in you, Nick. I’m into someone else, okay? And it’s never going to be you.”

He had looked stunned, almost hurt, but Azzi hadn’t cared. All she could think about was Paige and how she needed to tell her, to make sure Paige knew that she was the one Azzi wanted. But now, Paige had pulled the rug out from under her, ending things before Azzi had a chance to fix them.

Azzi’s heart ached, a deep, hollow pain that she couldn’t shake. She couldn’t let this end like this, not when Paige meant everything to her. But when she tried to call, Paige didn’t answer, and her texts went unread.

For days, Azzi was a wreck, barely able to focus on anything. The team noticed, of course. How could they not? She was distracted during practice, her energy low, and her usual spark was gone.

Paige wasn’t faring any better. She had thrown herself into her routine, trying to act like everything was fine, but her friends could see through the facade. Nika, Aaliyah, KK, and Caroline watched her with concern, exchanging worried glances every time Paige forced a smile.

“I’m fine,” Paige would say whenever they asked, but no one believed her. They knew that paige was the furthest thing from fine.

Finally, after another particularly rough practice, Nika pulled the group aside. “We need to do something. Paige is falling apart, and so is Azzi.”

Aaliyah nodded, her expression serious. “They both look miserable. We can’t just sit back and watch them suffer like this.”

KK, always the one with the ideas, piped up. “What if we take them out? Get their minds off things for a while.”

Caroline grinned. “Ted’s. We’ll take them to Ted’s. A night out might be exactly what they need.”

The group set their plan in motion, practically dragging Paige and Azzi out of their dorms and to Ted’s, a popular spot known for its laid-back atmosphere and decent food. Paige resisted at first, not wanting to face Azzi, but her friends were persistent.

Azzi wasn’t thrilled about the idea either, but she couldn’t say no when Caroline showed up at her door, refusing to leave without her.

Ted’s was buzzing with activity when they arrived, the air filled with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. The group found a table in the back, far enough from the noise but close enough to still feel the energy of the place.

For a while, it worked. Paige and Azzi were both distracted by the conversation, the jokes, and the stories their friends shared. There were moments when Paige would glance at Azzi, and their eyes would meet for a second too long before they both looked away, the tension thick between them.

Nika tried to lighten the mood, telling a story about a disastrous date she’d had, and everyone laughed—everyone except Paige and Azzi, who were both too lost in their thoughts to fully engage.

But then, as the night wore on, things started to settle down. Caroline had stepped away to grab more drinks, and Nika and Aaliyah were deep in conversation, leaving Paige and Azzi alone at the table, the silence between them deafening.

Paige fiddled with her napkin, her nerves on edge. She could feel Azzi’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up.

Finally, Azzi broke the silence, her voice soft but steady. “Paige… I need to explain.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat, but she shook her head. “It’s fine, Azzi. You don’t have to.”

“No,” Azzi insisted, leaning forward, her eyes pleading. “I do. Nick—he means nothing to me. I told him that, Paige. I told him that I wanted you, not him.”

Paige’s breath hitched, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. “You… you did?”

Azzi nodded, her expression earnest. “Yes. I never wanted him. It was always you, Paige. But you didn’t give me a chance to tell you before you ended things.”

The room seemed to spin around Paige, her mind struggling to process what Azzi was saying. She had been so sure, so certain that Azzi was slipping away from her, but now, hearing this, she felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her.

“But… I thought you were going to leave me for him,” Paige whispered, her voice trembling.

Azzi shook her head, reaching across the table to take Paige’s hand, her touch warm and grounding. “Never, Paige. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

For a moment, there was hope—a flicker of something that could have been the start of a healing conversation, of reconciliation. But then, just as Paige was about to respond, a voice interrupted them.

It was Nick, standing at their table with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on Azzi. “Hey, Azzi. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Azzi’s grip on Paige’s hand tightened, and Paige felt her stomach drop, the fragile moment between them now ruined.

[hughiecampbelle]

Baby Blue (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,014

Requested: Butcher fic request with Descriptions 16 (sing) and 43 (thunder and lightning) and Dialogue 5 (You're staring)? love your writing!!! - anon

A/N: My love!!! Thank you for requesting!!! My mind immediately went to the fluffiest place imaginable!! I love writing about storms and nature and the weather, I feel like I could describe it a thousand different ways, it brings me so much joy!! I hope you like it :D Feedback is always appreciated!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

The thunder bashes her fists against the apartment windows. Tonight, she and her twin throw their duel tantrums. You are restless, checking the baby monitor, making sure they’re still asleep. Tossing and turning, he sleeps soundly beside you. Stonelike, dead, you watch his back rise and fall, thankful he is still breathing. Thankful he is still around. The rain falls in sheets. You can hear it crash into the pavement below you, the streets and sidewalks, alongside the midnight traffic. Everyone rushing to get out of it, to get home, somewhere familiar and dry and warm. The lightning flashes for a moment, a second, illuminating the bedroom. There’s no hiding from him. The room is messy. Laundry sits overflowing from the basket. His clothes are left in a trail leading to the bed. He’d gotten home an hour ago, maybe two, exhausted. He climbed in beside you, falling asleep quickly. There are toys, and clothes, and shoes strewn across the place. A suitcase sits opened, empty, by the closet. You haven’t packed yet.

You wanted one more night.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up to the sound of crying. You pull the blankets back, moving quietly, not wanting to wake him, to disturb him. Through the hall, you find your way to the nursery. Butcher painted it for you before the baby was born, a soft sky blue. It was comforting then, but in the heart of the storm, it seemed dreary. Dreadful. He put together the crib too, swearing when he lost a tiny little screws, apologizing later. It made you laugh, though. He was so worried about being a bad influence. He even bought him a stuffed bulldog you both decided to name Terror. Terror slept in the crib with the baby. After two years, he’s been loved deeply. His missing button eye and frayed ears are proof of that. The baby wails, kicking his feet from under the blanket, fussing. Between sobs they call for you, their baby talk interrupted by gasps for air. You pick him up, hushing him, rubbing his back and reassuring him it would be okay. He was safe. The storm could not reach him. You stood by the window, showing him how the rain fell down the glasses. They're racing, you told him, showed him. Against your chest and shoulder, his body moved with his hiccups.

Butcher called your name. He sounded sleepy, urging you back to bed. When the baby had calmed down enough, when he was soothed enough, you walked back to your bedroom. You brought Terror, too. You placed him in between you, watching him smile up at Butcher. Your whole world was wrapped in this bed, this room. Outside the world was dark, brutal, unforgiving. The trees swayed in the wind, pulled to one side, the leaves torn from their mother's branches. Something in your breastbone spread, a kind of hurt one could only feel watching this sort of thing. You turned your attention towards Butcher instead. He shook Terror, barking for him, “biting” his chubby cheeks. The baby laughed and squealed. It was your favorite sound.

You listened to the thunder, the screaming, the fight she was putting up to be heard. You understood. You didn't like that it had scared him, the baby, but you got it. A begging to be believed. A sort of desperation. That's what everyone wanted. Lying on your side, you watched them, wanting this to last forever. Despite the bags under his bloodshot eyes, Butcher was all easy smiles. He whispered to the baby, afraid of anything louder. He placed his hand over their chest, feeling the flutter of their heartbeat. In return, he watched him, his bright, wide eyes taking him in. The baby cooed his name: DaDa, DaDa, DaDa. Drool seeped through Terrors ear as he spoke. His teething was coming to an end. You were grateful for this.

You're staring, Butcher says a little louder, pulling you from your thoughts. Sorry, you say, though you're not really sorry. His hair sticks up in all different directions. He's got a boyish quality to him you've always loved. He prides himself on having a hard outer shell, impenetrable, but the second he sees you and the baby, he melts. He's not as bulletproof as he likes to believe. Between you, the baby falls asleep eventually. You watch as you have watched Butcher: their chest moving up and down beneath his onesie. Neither of you talk, not wanting to ruin the moment. It's not often you get to do this: sit in silence, be in one another's company. It isn't often Butcher is content, serene. Instead he fills the space with jokes and quips. He doesn't do well without noise. He doesn't try it this time, though. You're wondering the same thing: how many more of these moments will you get?

Tomorrow, when the sun rises, he will go back to work. When he gets home, you won't be there. Neither will the baby. You will do as you have been instructed. You will pack a light. You will pack enough. You will get out of the city while there is still time. He's kept your family secret long enough, but Homelander is looking for you. He is looking for any excuse, any soft spot, any vulnerability to take Butcher down. You won't call, or text. You'll use another name, a different one, and you will disappear. If, not when, it is over he will find you. You're not sure how, but he promises he will. Everything he wants to say, every apology and fear and worry, they go unsaid. Not safe, but selfishly he wants to believe so. Foolishly, he wants to tell you not to go, not to leave him. That'd be silly. That'd be stupid. If you want your son to grow up, this is the only way to ensure that. He doesn't want to ruin the moment. Instead he fights off sleep, wanting to savor the moment a little longer. You and Baby Billy, together with him.

[zapreportsblog]

*ahem* Yandere Alec & Jane x Reader

Think about it,

When Bella goes to save Edward from the Volturi, Reader comes along to make sure their older sister Bella goes home alive only to make first contact with Jane.

Jane would be the quiet yet protective Yandere type, meaning when Jane first felt the bond she instantly wants the Reader close to her.

As Jane tells Bella, Edward, Alice and Reader to follow her with Felix and Demitri behind them(of course Jane makes sure to hold on to the Readers wrist lightly but strong enough)

Soon the group is in the throne room, Alec soon feels the same type of bond just like Jane and looks at Reader with hungry eyes.

Alex is the type of yandere that gets jealous easily and just wants to keep the reader locked up in a room.

Soon both siblings are on each of the readers side being protective and clingy, holding onto their hand and arms for recurrence and security.

Of course the reader is not used to it and gets freaked out and tries to get close to their older sister Bella, Bella doing the same thing by trying to reach out to the reader.

But the reader gets pulled back from Bella and has been forced to stay by the Volturi and the siblings FOREVER.

Ah yes now you’re talking my love language, who doesn’t just love them an unhinged partner

❝forced to stay❞

✭ pairing : yandere jane volturi x reader x yandere alec volturi

✭ fandom : twilight x reader

✭ summary : the moment she made a contact with the twins she should’ve known that her fate was sealed 

✭ authors note : I don’t know what it is about having a unhinged partner, but I find it oddly romantic . Like for an example I have been dating my current boyfriend for almost a year now and only recently I would say a couple of months back. He told me that he was going to look up my location and come to my house after I did not respond to him for the first few days of us talking, we were not dating in the beginning, obviously so the fact that this man was going to somehow get access to my location whew gurl, this man got me down bad 

✭ twilight masterlist

The evening had settled in, casting long shadows as Bella Swan sat in her room, her thoughts consumed by worry for Edward. She had barely spoken to him since he left, and the emptiness was overwhelming. Just then, a light knock on her window startled her, and she turned to find Alice Cullen perched on the windowsill, her golden eyes filled with urgency.

"Bella," Alice began, her voice laced with concern, "we need to talk."

Bella's heart raced as she sat up straighter. "What is it, Alice?"

"It's Edward," Alice said, her voice steady yet grave. "He's planning to expose himself to humans—to reveal his true nature—in order to provoke the Volturi into killing him."

The words struck Bella like a physical blow. Her mind raced, unable to comprehend what she had just heard. "No, he can't be serious," Bella whispered, her voice trembling.

Alice's expression was somber. "He believes it's the only way to keep you and your family safe from the Volturi's attention."

Tears welled in Bella's eyes as the gravity of the situation settled in. "I have to stop him," she said, her voice determined.

Alice nodded in agreement. "I'm coming with you."

As Bella stood, her gaze locked onto the window, and she realized that someone else was listening. Turning, she saw her younger sister, (y/n), standing at the door, her expression a mix of concern and determination.

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" Bella asked, surprised yet touched by her sister's presence.

"I heard everything," (y/n) replied, her voice steady. "And I'm coming too."

Bella's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and worry. "(Y/n), this is dangerous. I can't let you get involved."

(Y/n) stepped forward, her eyes unwavering. "Bella, you're my sister. I can't just sit back while you face this alone."

Alice's lips curled into a small smile. "She's right, Bella. We're all in this together."

Bella hesitated, torn between her protective instincts and the realization that her family's bond was unbreakable. Finally, she nodded. "Fine, you can come. But promise me you'll stay close and follow my lead."

(Y/n) nodded, determination gleaming in her eyes. "I promise."

With the decision made, the three of them exchanged a look that held a mixture of worry and resolve. The bond between sisters ran deep, and their determination to protect each other was unyielding.

As they stepped out of the house, ready to face the perilous journey ahead, Bella knew that no matter what challenges they encountered, they would face them together. The unbreakable bond between sisters would guide them through the darkness, giving them the strength to save the ones they loved, even if it meant facing the Volturi themselves.

As Bella, Alice, and (y/n) approached the Volturi chamber, a tense atmosphere hung in the air. Shadows danced across the walls, and the weight of their purpose settled heavily upon them. Just as they were about to enter, a trio of figures appeared, drawing their attention.

Jane, Demetri, and Felix materialized before them, their presence both unsettling and foreboding. (Y/n) sensed the intensity of the situation, her instincts on high alert. Her gaze locked with Jane's, and a strange shiver ran down her spine. Unbeknownst to her, Jane's connection to (y/n) ran deep, fueled by the intense bond of mates.

Demetri's voice cut through the air, his tone respectful yet firm. "The kings are awaiting your presence. Follow us."

Bella exchanged a wary glance with Alice, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. With a nod, they followed Demetri and Felix, their steps echoing in the dimly lit corridor. The tension was palpable, and (y/n)'s heart raced as they moved closer to their destination.

As they entered the chamber, (y/n) felt a shiver run down her spine once more. The Volturi kings sat upon their thrones, exuding an air of authority and power. Aro, Caius, and Marcus regarded them with interest, their eyes glinting with curiosity as they took in the unexpected guests.

"(Y/n) Swan and Bella Swan," Aro's voice rang out, his tone laced with intrigue. "A pleasure to have you with us."

(Y/n)'s and her sister Bella’s eyes widened, taken aback by Aro's direct acknowledgment of her presence. They offered a tentative nod, voices momentarily caught in their throat.

“So tell me, why have you come here? Why do two humans and one vampire stand before us?” Aro questions obviously amused with the whole situation. 

As the conversation with the Volturi kings continued, (y/n) felt a strange sensation wash over her. The intensity of Alec's gaze upon her didn't go unnoticed. Unbeknownst to her, the same bond that had sparked between her and Jane had also formed with Alec, albeit with different implications.

Alec's eyes, hungry and possessive, trailed over (y/n) as if she were the only thing in the room. An invisible thread connected them, a connection that (y/n) couldn't comprehend. Her heart quickened under his gaze, an unfamiliar heat blooming within her.

As the conversation continued, (y/n) found herself shifting uncomfortably under the weight of Alec's gaze, a sense of unease settling in the pit of her stomach. Soon before she knew it Alec and Jane were standing before her, they clinged to her every being allowing no room for others to touch or even get near her.

Their presence was suffocating .

(Y/n)'s world had become a whirlwind of confusion and unease. She felt like a puppet, caught between the possessive affections of Alec and Jane on one side and the protective concern of Bella on the other. It was suffocating, overwhelming, and completely foreign to her.

As (y/n) attempted to navigate through the tense atmosphere, her heart rate quickened. Alec and Jane were by her side, their grip on her hand and arms feeling like a constant reminder of their presence. The clinginess and possessiveness made her uncomfortable, and she found herself longing for a moment of solitude.

Bella's attempts to reach out to her were a lifeline in this sea of intensity. She wanted to cling to her sister, the familiar bond between them offering a semblance of normalcy. But every time she tried to get closer to Bella, Alec and Jane would pull her back, their possessive gestures preventing her from seeking comfort in her older sister's arms.

Torn between the conflicting desires of those around her, (y/n) felt trapped. She wanted to be with Bella, to find solace in her sister's embrace, but Alec and Jane's hold on her was unyielding.

Then, the announcement from Marcus changed everything. His words echoed in the chamber, declaring that (y/n) was Alec and Jane's mate. The shock and realization of what that meant sent tremors through her. It was a bond she didn't understand, a connection that both terrified and intrigued her.

As the truth sank in, the weight of her circumstances settled on her shoulders. Aro, always the master manipulator, took advantage of the situation. He presented Bella and Alice with an unfair deal, Edward's life in exchange for (y/n)'s captivity among the Volturi.

The decision was left to (y/n), and despite the unease and discomfort, she found herself speaking up. "Agree to the deal," she told Bella and Alice, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "I'll be fine. You have to save Edward."

It was a sacrifice that she never thought she would have to make, but (y/n) was determined to protect her loved ones, no matter the cost. As the deal was settled, (y/n) felt a mixture of fear and determination coursing through her veins. Her life had taken an unexpected turn, and now she had to face an uncertain future, bound to two yandere vampires who held an inexplicable claim over her heart and soul.

[bigtreefest]

Hello, sweet Essie!! So we’ve met bartender!Curtis 🫠

Any thoughts (or thots) on bartender!Ari meeting a gal that’s interested in more than just his fruity drinks or getting in his pants? 😏

Hehehe, hello! Bartender!Curtis was a secret sweetie, just like his best friend.

Why, of course we can hear about Bartender!Ari!! I think he has really seen it all, so something super out of the ordinary would catch his eye. Someone who isn’t interested in him. At least not on the surface.

Here’s what I’m thinking. This…got away from me🫣 so it continues under the cut:

It’s a Thursday night, so the bar is buzzing a little, but not so much that it’s impossible to find a seat. As Ari’s topping off a beer, he sees you walk in, but when you make eye contact with him, there’s no smile, no nervous, bashful giggle. You don’t light up like most do when they see the Adonis. Instead, you just continue to drag your feet to a bar stool in between two regulars. Both hardly spare you a glance and Ari bars Curtis from walking over since you’re technically in Curtis’s section.

He makes his way over, setting a glass in front of you.

“On the house. You look like you need it”

But the thing is, you’re in no mood to accept his handout. Your voice is sharp when it comes back at him.

“What’s up with men and them thinking they know better than me!?”

You can see the shock on his face as he’s taken aback. His eyes widen, showing just how blue and surprisingly soft they are. There’s no hint of cockiness in them, at least not anymore. And that’s when you realize that you just snapped and feel terrible about it. The two big men on either side of you were startled, too.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I really appreciate this, I’ll pay to make up for that. It’s just…*sigh* never mind. I’m not gonna burden you with that”

Ari’s brow furrows. You’re a little dressed up, maybe for a casual date, but your face doesn’t show the excitement he knows Curtis had for his last one.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile as he spots someone else come up to the bar out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey, no worries. But you should know it’s literally in my job description to listen if you need it. I’ll let you have a second and then I’ll come back, okay?”

You just nodded, looking down into the double shot of whiskey over the rocks he had given you. You weren’t normally one for hard liquor straight, but after tonight, you might need something to match the bitter taste in your mouth, and you applauded the bartender for recognizing it.

You skeptically took a sip out of the glass, expecting it to burn, but it was surprisingly smooth and pleasant. The corner of your lip upturned at his gesture and you looked up to see his longer hair swaying with the breeze as he walked back over to you.

He gave a tentative smile, seeing you had calmed some and you returned it. He reached out his hand over the table.

“I’m Ari, this is my place. Well, mine and my buddy’s at least.”

You shook his large hand and introduced yourself, mind stuck on the feeling of his warm, callused palms. His firm, strong, yet gentle hold.

He leaned over his elbows on the counter.

“So penny for your thoughts?”

You scoffed as your finger danced over the rim of your glass.

“I’m not sure if you want them. They’re mostly about my disdain for men. Are they all so terrible?”

He blew out a breath and pushed back off the counter.

“Well, in what sense? Because as I guy, I want to say no, but as a guy who considers himself pretty reasonable, the answer is probably yes.”

You shrugged and shook your head. “Bad date.”

You talk with Ari about it the rest of the night until he walks you to your car. But the thing is, you keep coming back. Bad date, after bad date, and he’s always there to make you feel better.

Ari is doing everything to make the time to talk to you. He’s making Curtis save your seat, he’s hasty with everyone else who comes up to him. As much as he hates seeing you torn up over guys, he’s desperate for your visits. He tries to deny it, but Curtis isn’t blind. So he finally convinces Ari to ask you out. And oh man does Ari get an earful of “see? Not so easy when you’re on this side of it, buddy.”

Ari builds up his courage, and another Thursday night rolls around, and you’re nowhere to be seen. And then another one, and another one. Before he knows it, it’s been a month. Ari thinks he lost his chance. He’s devastated. He doesn’t want to bounce back with another girl he knows he could easily get. He just wants you.

On a Sunday afternoon, he’s doing inventory in the bar while they’re closed. He hears a knock on the front door and just thinks Curtis locked himself up on the roof again, so he had to climb down the ladder and come in the front. When it swings open, though, there’s no broad guy with a beanie on. It’s you.

EEK!! Do I need to make this into an actual fic? A clueless pining Ari?🫣

Taglist: @hawkeyes-queen @ronearoundblindly @mercurial-chuckles

[artyandink]

the art of heresy forged 1981

SUMMARY: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

TW: psychological torture, trauma, angst, smut, drinking, consumption of drugs, smoking, mentions of sex, Ben (cause he’s an individual warning), Ben and Psyke being little shits, it’s The Boys so be careful guys, really creepy shit, literal crack

STW: unprotected sex (again, not advised, guys), fingering, oral sex (f. receiving)

A/N - divider by @chachachannah

Song Inspo: …Ready for It? - Taylor Swift

three - me, you, my mind

1981:

The hospital corridors smelled of antiseptic and despair, the kind that clung to your skin no matter how much you tried to shake it off. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed incessantly, casting a cold, sterile glow over everything. You hated hospitals. Always had. Too much death, too much pain, too much everything. But you were here for a reason, and not even the oppressive atmosphere could keep you away.

The receptionist at the front desk had given you a wary look when you strolled in, your usual swagger evident in every step. She knew who you were—everyone did. But she also knew the rules, and that made her think she had the power to stop you. Poor thing didn’t know what she was up against.

“I’m here to see Elizabeth, uh, Liz,” you said, leaning over the counter slightly, your voice gruff with impatience. “She’s just had a baby.”

The receptionist, a mousy woman in her early forties, blinked up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but only the father is allowed to visit right now. Hospital policy.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to let loose a string of expletives. “Yeah, well, policy be damned. I’m not just anyone, sweetheart. I’m Psyke. Recognise the name, doll?”

The woman’s eyes widened further, recognition dawning as she realized just who she was dealing with. You weren’t exactly the friendly neighborhood superhero type, but your name carried a ton of weight, and that weight was enough to get you what you wanted eleven times out of ten. She stammered, trying to find the right words to appease you while also following the rules she was undoubtedly tired of enforcing.

“I—I’m sorry, but—”

You leaned in closer, dropping your voice to a menacing whisper. “Look, I don’t have time for this shit. My sister just gave birth, and I’m not leaving this place until I’ve seen her and my niece. So, either you can let me in, or we can make this a whole lot more difficult for everyone involved. Your choice.”

The receptionist swallowed hard, clearly torn between her duty and the fear you’d expertly instilled in her. She fumbled with the papers on her desk before finally giving a reluctant nod. “Room 312,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s in Room 312.”

“Good girl,” you muttered, already striding down the corridor without a backward glance. You could feel the eyes of the staff on you, their hushed whispers following in your wake, but you didn’t give a damn. Let them talk. You had more important things to worry about.

The walk to Liz’s room felt longer than it should have. You kept your eyes forward, ignoring the sterile white walls and the smell of bleach that permeated the air. Hospitals always had a way of making you feel like you were suffocating, like the weight of all the pain and suffering within those walls was pressing down on your chest. But this was different. This was family.

When you finally reached Room 312, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. You weren’t used to feeling nervous—hell, you weren’t used to feeling anything other than anger or disdain most of the time—but right now, with Liz on the other side of that door, you felt something close to apprehension. She’d just given birth, for fuck’s sake. What were you supposed to say?

You pushed the thought aside and shoved the door open, stepping into the room with a confidence you didn’t quite feel. The sight that greeted you was one that would stay with you forever.

Liz was lying in the hospital bed, her face pale but glowing with a kind of serenity you’d never seen in her before. Her blonde hair was tousled, sticking to her forehead with sweat, and she looked exhausted—but happy. In her arms, she cradled a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, her gaze fixed on the newborn with a tenderness that made something in your chest tighten uncomfortably.

“Liz,” you said, your voice uncharacteristically soft as you stepped closer to the bed. “How’re you holding up?”

Liz looked up at you, her tired eyes brightening as a smile spread across her face. “Well, look who finally decided to show up,” she teased, though there was no real bite to her words. “You missed all the fun.”

“Yeah, well, I had to wrestle a few assholes to get in here,” you replied, slipping back into your usual bravado. “But I wasn’t gonna let a bunch of rules keep me from meeting my niece.”

Liz chuckled softly, the sound warm and full of affection. “Meet Georgia,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced down at the baby in her arms. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

You leaned in closer, your heart doing an odd little flip as you got your first real look at the tiny human cradled in your sister’s arms. Georgia was small—so small it made you feel like a fucking giant in comparison—with a tuft of dark hair peeking out from under the blanket and her eyes squeezed shut. Her little face was scrunched up like she was already fed up with the world, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

“Perfect?” you scoffed, though your voice lacked its usual bite. “She looks like a pissed-off potato.”

Liz laughed, a sound that was both tired and full of joy. “That’s one way to put it,” she said, looking down at Georgia with a mother’s love in her eyes. “But she’s my pissed-off potato.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease a bit. “You did good, Liz. Real good.”

“Thanks,” Liz said softly, her gaze still locked on Georgia. “You want to hold her?”

The question caught you off guard. You weren’t the maternal type—not by a long shot. Kids were loud, messy, and a pain in the ass most of the time. But as you looked down at Georgia, something in you shifted, just a little. Maybe it was the fact that she was family, or maybe it was the way Liz was looking at you, but for the first time in your life, you found yourself wanting to protect something—someone—more than anything else.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice rough as you reached out to take the tiny bundle from Liz. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Liz carefully handed Georgia over, and you cradled the newborn in your arms, feeling her warmth seep into your skin. She was so fucking small, her tiny fingers curling into fists as she squirmed slightly in your hold. For a moment, you felt completely out of your depth, unsure of how to hold something so delicate without breaking it.

But then Georgia let out a small, contented sigh, and you felt something inside you melt. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt something so…pure. So untainted by the shitstorm that was your life. It was almost enough to make you believe in something good.

“Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, your voice surprisingly gentle as you looked down at your niece. “I’m your auntie. Your life’s about to get a whole lot more interesting, cause I’m a fuckin’ supe. You’re gonna be well protected from nasty bullies, jellybean.”

Liz watched you with a soft smile, her eyes filled with a warmth you hadn’t seen in a long time. “She’s going to need someone like you in her life,” she said quietly. “Someone who won’t take shit from anyone.”

You snorted, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah, well, that’s something I’m good at.”

Liz’s smile faltered slightly, and she reached out to place a hand on your arm. “Promise me you’ll be there for her. For me. You know how things are with Vince. He’s…”

Her voice trailed off, but you knew what she meant. Vince was an asshole, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to be winning any Father of the Year awards, that much was certain. You’d never liked him, but Liz had always been the one with the bleeding heart, always seeing the good in people even when there wasn’t any to be found.

“I’ll be there,” you said, your voice firm as you looked down at Georgia. “I promise.”

Liz let out a small sigh of relief, her grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Thank you.”

“I still don’t know why you married the guy.” You snorted, shaking your head. “Am I still not allowed to bash his face in?”

“That’s a stretch.”

“I have enough money from Payback to take care’a both of us. And Soldier Boy could help if I asked him.” You protested, but she shook her head.

Liz gave you a soft smile. “I’d be indebted to you. And I always have been, you’re my older sister and you’ve been all I know. But I’m gonna do this my way, as much as I’d like to meet the guy who’s fucking my older sister.”

“He’s a real good fuck too.”

“I bet he is.”

For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound in the room the soft breathing of the newborn in your arms. It was a moment of calm, a rare reprieve from the chaos that usually filled your life. You found yourself reluctant to break the silence, content to just be there with Liz and Georgia.

But eventually, reality began to creep back in, and you knew you couldn’t stay in this little bubble forever. With a reluctant sigh, you carefully handed Georgia back to Liz, the weight of responsibility settling back onto your shoulders.

“Alright,” you said, your voice rough as you cleared your throat. “I should probably get going. Let you get some rest.”

Liz looked up at you, her eyes filled with gratitude. “You don’t have to go just yet.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “Nah, you need your rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Liz nodded, though you could see the reluctance in her eyes. “Okay. But don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said with a smirk, though there was an edge of seriousness to your tone. “Take care of yourself, Liz. And take care of Georgia.”

“I will,” Liz promised, her voice soft. “Thank you for being here.”

You nodded, giving her one last look before turning to leave the room. But just as you reached the door, Liz called out to you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, sis?”

You turned back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Liz hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I just want you to know… you’re going to be a great aunt.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But then you felt a small, genuine smile tug at your lips, and you nodded.

“Thanks, Liz,” you said quietly. “I’ll do my best.”

And with that, you turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you. As you made your way down the corridor, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You had a niece now—a tiny, pissed-off potato of a niece who was going to need you in her life. It was a strange feeling, knowing that you were responsible for someone other than yourself. But as you thought about Georgia’s tiny face and Liz’s hopeful smile, you found yourself determined to live up to the promise you’d made.

No matter what it took, you were going to be there for Georgia. You were going to be the aunt she needed, the one who wouldn’t take shit from anyone and who would always have her back. Because that’s what family was about.

Even for someone like you.

Ben’s hotel room smelled of smoke and something faintly sweet, a scent that clung to the silk robe he wore loosely over his broad frame. The black fabric shimmered under the dim light of the bedside lamp, emphasizing every movement he made as he lounged back in the chair by the window, a cigar between his fingers. You watched him take a long, slow drag, the end glowing bright red before he exhaled a thick plume of smoke into the room.

“Congrats on your sister,” he said, his voice a deep rumble, rough around the edges. “She popped out a kid, huh?”

You leaned back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, and let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, she did. Little girl, Georgia. Cute as hell, too—though she looks like a potato right now.”

Ben chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the room. “They all look like that at first. Wrinkled and pissed off, like they know what kind of shit they’ve been born into.”

You snorted. “Ain’t that the truth.”

He leaned back further in his chair, his robe falling open slightly, exposing more of his muscular chest. His green eyes were sharp as they flicked over to you, something unreadable in them as he took another drag from his cigar. “You ever think about it? Having kids?”

You shrugged, pretending to be more interested in the cigarette you were holding than the direction the conversation was taking. “Not really. Never thought I’d be the mom type. Too much of a hard-ass for all that soft shit.”

“Yeah,” Ben muttered, rolling the cigar between his fingers. “That’s what I thought about Marjorie too.”

The mention of Crimson Countess—Marjorie—hung in the air between you like a bad stench. You’d seen the two of them together often enough, the way they played up their public romance for the cameras, all smiles and perfect poses. It was all bullshit, and you both knew it. Ben and Marjorie weren’t a real couple—they were just a convenient PR package, wrapped up nice and neat to sell to the public.

“Marjorie and kids?” You scoffed at the thought, raising an eyebrow at him. “Can’t picture that.”

Ben let out a dry laugh, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Neither could I. Even back in the day, when we were…whatever the fuck we were, she never talked about kids. Hell, I didn’t either.”

You nodded, taking a slow drag from your cigarette. “Too much of a mess, all of it. The world’s gone to shit, and bringing a kid into it? That’s a special kind of hell.”

“Exactly.” Ben’s voice was rough, tinged with something bitter. He took another long pull from his cigar, his eyes narrowing slightly as he stared out the window. “Can’t even imagine what kind of life they’d have. Constant danger, growing up with assholes like us around. Nah, better off without.”

The bitterness in his tone matched the cynical look in his eyes, and you found yourself nodding in agreement. “Yeah, no need to drag anyone else into this fucked-up world.”

Ben’s gaze flicked back to you, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And you? Think your sister made a mistake?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated, turning the cigarette between your fingers. “Nah, Liz is different. She’s…I don’t know, softer. She’s got a heart that isn’t covered in layers of steel and hate. Maybe she can make it work.”

Ben let out a huff, the smirk still in place as he shook his head. “That’s one hell of an optimistic view coming from you. Never thought I’d hear it.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a playful shove with your foot. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Just because I think Liz can handle it doesn’t mean I’d ever want the same shit for myself. No way.”

Ben grinned at that, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he leaned forward, his cigar hanging lazily between his lips. “So, if not kids, what the hell do you want, then? What’s left for someone like you, huh?”

The question was loaded, and you knew it. What did you want? In this world of lies, violence, and constant manipulation, it was hard to even remember what you used to want, let alone what you wanted now. But there was something in the way Ben was looking at you, a challenge in his eyes that made you want to answer, to say something, anything that would push back against the darkness that threatened to swallow you both.

You flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching as it floated to the floor, and met his gaze head-on. “I want to keep living. Fighting. Whatever comes my way, I want to face it and make sure it doesn’t break me.”

Ben’s smirk widened into a full grin, a glint of approval in his eyes. “Now that, I can get behind. You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that.”

“Damn right I am,” you shot back, your tone dripping with confidence. “What about you, huh? What’s left for the great Soldier Boy?”

Ben’s grin faded slightly, his expression hardening as he took another drag from his cigar. “Same as you, I guess. Just keep going, keep fighting, and make sure the world doesn’t forget who the hell I am.”

There was something raw in his voice, something vulnerable that he quickly covered up with another puff of smoke. You didn’t push it—Ben wasn’t the type to open up easily, and you weren’t the type to pry. But there was a part of you that understood, that recognized the fear of being forgotten, of being rendered obsolete in a world that was constantly moving forward without you.

You took a final drag from your cigarette, then crushed it in the ashtray on the nightstand. “We’re both stubborn bastards, that’s for sure.”

Ben chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Damn right. And don’t you forget it.”

You met his gaze, feeling the tension in the room shift slightly, a different kind of heat sparking between you. There was something electric in the air, something that had been simmering beneath the surface since you’d walked into the room. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt it—hell, it wasn’t even the first time you’d acted on it—but tonight felt different. There was an edge to it, a kind of desperation that neither of you could ignore.

Ben’s eyes darkened as he looked at you, his gaze lingering on your lips before trailing down to the curve of your neck. “You know, you always did know how to push my buttons.”

You felt a smirk tug at your lips as you leaned back on the bed, your eyes locked on his. “Is that right? And here I thought I was just being my charming self.”

He let out a low growl, his grin widening as he pushed himself out of the chair and moved toward the bed. “Charming, my ass. You’re a goddamn menace.”

You didn’t bother to argue, your heart pounding in your chest as Ben closed the distance between you. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing as he reached out and pulled you toward him, his hands rough and insistent on your skin. The silk robe he wore brushed against your arm, the fabric cool and smooth compared to the heat of his touch.

“Ben,” you murmured, your voice a low whisper as his lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin.

“Shut up,” he growled against your throat, his hands slipping beneath your shirt, the warmth of his palms sending shivers down your spine. “Just shut up.”

You couldn’t help the low moan that escaped your lips as his hands roamed over your body, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the softness of the silk robe. There was something intoxicating about the way he moved, the way he took control, like he needed this as much as you did.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as his lips found yours, the kiss hard and demanding. It was a battle for dominance, neither of you willing to back down, both of you determined to take what you wanted. His hands slid under your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, and you didn’t hesitate to do the same with his robe, the silk falling to the floor in a heap.

The cool air of the room hit your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat of Ben’s body as he pressed against you, his hands roaming over every inch of exposed flesh. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely-contained need that matched your own.

“Fuck,” you muttered against his lips, your nails digging into his back as he pushed you down onto the bed. “You’re gonna leave marks.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice rough with desire as he trailed kisses down your neck, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. “I want you to remember this.”

You arched into him, a low moan escaping your lips as his mouth found the sensitive spot on your collarbone, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You didn’t care about the bruises, didn’t care about the pain—if anything, it only made you want him more.

“Ben,” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he moved lower, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Shut up,” he growled, sucking on your skin as he threw your legs apart. Touch practiced. Rough.

You gasped, the sharp sensation of his mouth on your skin sending jolts of heat through your body. Ben’s lips were rough and eager as they explored the curve of your collarbone, trailing lower until he reached the edge of your bra. You shivered under his touch, a thrill racing through you as he sucked gently at the delicate skin there, his fingers gripping your waist with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and teasing. “Can’t believe I waited this long.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers curling into his hair as you pulled him closer. “It’s been a few hours since you fucked me.”

He looked up at you then, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Few hours too long, sweet thing.”

With that, his hands slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing against the skin of your thighs. You felt the heat of his touch radiating through the thin fabric, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he pushed your pants down, baring your legs to the cool air.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his fingers trailing up your thighs with agonizing slowness. “You’re fucking perfect.”

You could barely respond, too lost in the heat pooling in your core as his fingers finally found their way to the center of your desire. He paused, teasing you for a moment, before sliding a single finger between your folds, pushing against you with just the right amount of pressure.

“Ben,” you gasped, your back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through you. You felt raw, exposed, and completely at his mercy. He moved slowly at first, his finger gliding effortlessly as he worked you up, the pressure building with each tantalizing stroke.

“Easy there, sugar,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. “We’ve got all night. I want to take my time with you.”

You opened your eyes to find him watching you intently, his green gaze dark with desire. There was something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, that sent another wave of heat crashing through you.

“Don’t tease me,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper as his finger curled inside you, the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. “I need more.”

“Need more?” He smirked, clearly enjoying the power he had over you. “You’ve got it, babe.”

With that, he slipped in another finger, stretching you open, and you moaned loudly, biting down on your lip to suppress any further sounds. He moved them in a slow, rhythmic motion, and you could feel every stroke, every curl of his fingers hitting all the right spots.

“Shit, that feels incredible,” you breathed, your body arching into him as you fought to maintain control. But the pleasure was building quickly, spiraling higher and higher until you were lost in it.

Ben seemed to revel in the way you responded to him, his fingers working you expertly as he leaned down to press kisses along your inner thigh, teasing you mercilessly. Each brush of his lips sent shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body, and you knew you were dangerously close to the edge.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his breath warm against your skin. “Let go for me.”

With every movement of his fingers, every kiss he pressed against your skin, you felt the tension coil tighter and tighter within you. “Ben,” you gasped, your hands clutching the sheets as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, threatening to pull you under.

“Yeah?” he murmured, the devilish grin on his face betraying his eagerness.

You met his gaze, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m so close.”

“Good,” he growled, picking up the pace, fingers moving faster, deeper. “I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

You barely had time to register his words before the tension snapped, pleasure exploding through you as you cried out his name. Your back arched, your entire body tightening around him as you let go, waves of bliss crashing over you.

“Fucking hell,” Ben breathed, his fingers still moving as you came down from your high, riding out the aftershocks of pleasure. He leaned down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction as he watched you come undone.

When you finally opened your eyes again, he was smirking at you, his fingers glistening with your arousal. “You’re a fucking sight to behold, you know that?”

You chuckled breathlessly, still feeling the lingering effects of your climax. “Yeah? And you’re a cocky bastard.”

“Only because I know how to push your buttons,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing. He slid his fingers out of you, slowly, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips at the loss.

Ben’s smirk widened as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a satisfied look on his face. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Your heart raced at the sight, a heat flooding your cheeks as you watched him. There was something primal in the way he moved, something raw and unrestrained that set your entire body alight with need.

“Now,” he said, leaning over you, his green eyes dark with lust. “I think it’s my turn to taste you.”

Before you could respond, he was lowering himself down your body, settling between your thighs. You gasped as he pressed a kiss to your core, his lips brushing against you with feather-light pressure before he buried his face deeper, licking you with a fierce hunger.

“Ben!” you gasped, your back arching again as pleasure shot through you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way possible. He worked you with a skill that left you breathless, his tongue moving in expert strokes, teasing and tasting as he explored you.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down your spine. He was relentless, his mouth moving expertly as he pushed you back toward the edge, building you up higher and higher until you were gasping for breath.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he worked you, the heat of his mouth combined with the pressure of his tongue sending you spiraling toward another climax. The pleasure was building again, a familiar tightness coiling within you, and you knew you were close.

“Ben,” you gasped, feeling your body start to tremble. “I’m—”

“Let go,” he urged, his voice low and commanding, and the combination of his words and the feeling of his mouth on you pushed you right over the edge. You cried out, your back arching as pleasure flooded through you, crashing over you in wave after wave.

“Fuck!” you shouted, your body trembling as you rode the waves of your climax, feeling his tongue work you through it, keeping you on the edge, keeping the pleasure coming.

As you finally came down from your high, gasping for breath, you felt Ben pulling back, his lips glistening, a satisfied grin on his face. “Told you I’d make you forget.”

You chuckled breathlessly, the sound a mixture of disbelief and pure, unfiltered satisfaction. “You weren’t kidding. That was…something else.”

He leaned back, looking at you with a glimmer of pride. “You liked it, huh?”

“Yeah, I liked it,” you admitted, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. “You’ve got some serious skills there, Soldier Boy.”

“Only the best for you, Psyke.” He winked, his voice teasing as he shifted closer again, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against him. “But now that I’ve gotten my taste, I want more.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at your lips. “More? You think you can handle it?”

“Oh, I can handle it,” he growled, his eyes dark with desire as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. The kiss was heated, a promise of what was to come, and you could feel the heat building again, a fire igniting between you that promised a long night ahead.

You melted against him, feeling the weight of his body pressing against yours, the heat radiating from him as you lost yourself in the kiss. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, tangled together in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the thrill of excitement course through you, and you knew that whatever came next, you were ready for it. You were ready to face the darkness together, to embrace the chaos and the heat, and to lose yourself in the wild, unrestrained moments that came with being together.

“Let’s see what else you’ve got,” you whispered against his lips, your voice filled with challenge.

Ben grinned, a wicked spark in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Oh, I’ve got plenty in store for you, don’t you worry. M’gonna make sure you come at least five times before the night’s over.”

The morning light filtered into the lobby of the hotel through the large glass windows, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The place was quiet at this early hour, with only a few scattered guests enjoying breakfast or scrolling through their phones. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, nursing a coffee and trying to shake off the remnants of last night’s haze. Your clothes were disheveled, a stark contrast to the elegant setting, but you were past caring about appearances.

As you took another sip of your coffee, you felt a sharp, familiar presence approaching. You looked up to see Marjorie, also known as Crimson Countess, storming toward you. Her usual air of polished elegance was replaced by a fierce, almost frenzied expression. Her tight red dress clung to her curves, and her high heels clicked loudly against the marble floor as she made her way over.

“Just the person I wanted to see,” Marjorie snapped as she reached you, her voice dripping with irritation. “I need to talk to you.”

You raised an eyebrow, casually setting your coffee down on the table beside you. “Oh, really? And here I thought I’d be able to enjoy my morning without a drama fest.”

Marjorie’s eyes flashed with anger, but she took a deep breath before speaking. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing with Ben, but this has to stop. You’re making things complicated.”

You took a moment to let that sink in, a smirk playing at your lips. “Complicated? How so?”

Her expression tightened further. “You’re screwing him, and it’s messing with our arrangement. We have a deal, and I don’t appreciate you undermining it.”

You chuckled, a harsh, almost mocking sound that made Marjorie’s face redden. “Oh, honey, don’t get your panties in a twist. Ben and I are just having a bit of fun. It’s not like we’re plotting world domination.”

“Fun?” Marjorie spat, her tone dripping with disdain. “You’re not just having fun. You’re disrupting things that are important to both of us.”

“Important to both of you?” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “I’m pretty sure Ben’s deal with you is just a glorified PR stunt. You know it, I know it, and deep down, he knows it too.”

Marjorie’s eyes widened in fury. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Ben and I have—”

“—A business arrangement,” you cut in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m well aware. I’ve seen the way you cling to him every time there’s a camera around. Pathetic.”

Marjorie’s jaw clenched. “Cling? You think I’m pathetic?”

“Damn right I do,” you replied, your tone icy. “You’re like a stage five clinger, always hanging around, making sure everyone sees how ‘happy’ you are. It’s sickening. Ben’s never been into the whole lovey-dovey crap, and you’re just there to play a part.”

Her face twisted in anger, and she took a step closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. “You think you’re so much better? You’re just a temporary distraction. A little fling for Ben to amuse himself with.”

You stood up, meeting her gaze with a steely resolve. “And you’re a joke. You think you’re special because you’ve got a bit of fame and a PR relationship? Newsflash, Marjorie, you’re just another face in the crowd. Ben’s had enough of the fake crap, and he’s making that pretty damn clear.”

Before Marjorie could retort, Ben strolled into the lobby, looking every bit the part of a man who was used to getting his way. His black silk robe was slung casually over his shoulders, and he had that confident, almost arrogant swagger that you knew all too well. He looked between you and Marjorie with a knowing smirk.

“Everything alright here?” Ben’s voice was smooth, laced with a hint of amusement as he approached.

Marjorie’s eyes flashed with a mix of relief and annoyance as she turned to him. “Ben, you need to handle this. She’s—”

“—Handling it just fine,” you interrupted, your voice laced with a defiant edge. “Thanks for joining the party, Ben. Marjorie was just about to explain how she feels about our arrangement.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing at Marjorie with a curious expression. “Oh? And what’s the problem now?”

Marjorie’s frustration was palpable as she threw her hands up in exasperation. “She’s undermining our deal. I need you to make her stop.”

Ben’s grin widened, and he turned his full attention back to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, sweetheart. But you know, I wouldn’t say no to a little more fun.”

Without warning, he reached out and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close. His hands were rough, assertive, and there was no mistaking the predatory gleam in his eyes. You barely had time to react before his lips were on yours, kissing you with a raw, hungry passion that left you breathless.

Marjorie’s eyes widened in shock as she watched the scene unfold, her mouth hanging open. She clearly hadn’t anticipated Ben’s reaction, and you could see the mix of jealousy and anger in her expression.

Ben’s hands roamed over your body, gripping your hips and pulling you tighter against him. His touch was commanding, and there was no subtlety in the way he maneuvered you, as if claiming you for his own. He broke the kiss only long enough to look over at Marjorie with a smirk.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m not about to let her go.”

Marjorie’s face turned a deep shade of red, and she opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, she glared at you with an expression that could have burned a hole through steel.

“You know what?” you said, your voice loud and unapologetic as Ben’s hands slipped down to give your ass a playful smack. “We’re literally just fucking every chance we get. I see no problems here.”

Ben’s grin grew wider as he continued his assault on your body, his hands exploring every curve with a possessive eagerness. “Damn right. And if Marjorie’s got an issue with that, well, that’s her problem.”

Marjorie’s face was a storm of emotions—anger, humiliation, and something like betrayal. She looked between you and Ben, her eyes filled with frustration. “You’re unbelievable, Ben. And you,” she snapped at you, “you’re nothing but a—”

Ben cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Save it, Marjorie. I’m done with this conversation.”

Marjorie’s mouth snapped shut, and she glared at Ben one last time before turning on her heel and storming out of the lobby, her high heels clicking angrily as she went. The sound of the door slamming shut behind her was almost a relief, and you let out a sigh of relief, leaning into Ben’s touch.

Ben’s hands were still on your ass, giving it another playful slap before he pulled you back against him. His lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was even more heated, full of unrestrained desire. You melted into it, your hands gripping his shoulders as you lost yourself in the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his green eyes were filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement. “That was fun,” he said, his voice low and filled with a smugness that was impossible to miss.

You chuckled, still feeling the remnants of the kiss on your lips. “Yeah, you sure know how to make a point.”

Ben smirked, his hands still resting possessively on your hips. “Glad I could help. Now, how about we take this somewhere more private?”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Lead the way.”

As you followed him toward the elevator, you couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. Whatever else the day held, you knew it would be anything but boring. Ben’s presence was a wild card, and you were ready to embrace whatever came next.

The night was crisp, and the city lights sparkled like a sea of diamonds below. The limo's interior was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the backseat reading lights and the flicker of the occasional street lamp as it sped along. You and Ben—Soldier Boy, as he was known—had taken full advantage of the privacy the car afforded.

Ben adjusted his black tuxedo, smoothing down the front while you fixed your dress, the deep crimson fabric clinging in all the right places. You cast a glance at Ben, who had a satisfied smirk on his face. His green eyes glinted with mischief as he adjusted his bow tie, the only hint of the evening’s earlier activities evident in the disheveled state of his usually pristine hair.

“You know,” you said, smoothing down the fabric of your dress, “I’ve got to hand it to you. You’re quite the multitasker.”

Ben chuckled, his grin widening. “Oh? And how’s that?”

“Managing to get us both worked up and still looking like a million bucks.” You winked at him. “Impressive.”

“Just a skill set I’ve developed over the years,” Ben replied, adjusting his cufflinks. “But you’re looking pretty damn incredible yourself.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the pleased smile that spread across your face. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Soldier Boy.”

The limo pulled up to the entrance of the gala, the flashing lights of photographers and the murmur of the crowd growing louder as the vehicle came to a stop. The driver opened the door, and you stepped out, your heels clicking on the marble steps as you took in the opulence of the event.

The gala was a high-profile affair, hosted by one of the city’s elite charities. The grand entrance was adorned with gold-trimmed decorations, and a red carpet led to the entrance, where a steady stream of well-dressed guests were being greeted with champagne and smiles. You took Ben’s arm as you approached, the two of you looking every bit the glamorous couple you were pretending to be.

As you entered the ballroom, the grandeur of the venue hit you. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the elegant tables set with fine china and polished silverware. The guests were mingling, their laughter and conversation creating a lively, sophisticated buzz.

You and Ben made quite the entrance, heads turning as the two of you walked in together. It wasn’t long before you noticed a few curious glances and whispered conversations. You had always been used to attracting attention, but tonight it felt particularly charged, thanks to the way you and Ben had spent the ride over.

You turned to Ben with a sly grin. “Ready to make this night interesting?”

Ben’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Oh, I’m more than ready.”

As you made your way to the bar, you could feel the weight of several gazes on you. Ben seemed to enjoy the attention, his confidence practically radiating off him. You could sense a playful competitiveness between you and him, each of you trying to outdo the other with quips and subtle touches.

At the bar, you ordered a champagne and turned to Ben. “I see you’re still sporting that smirk. You think you can keep it up all night?”

Ben chuckled, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

A couple approached you—an elegantly dressed man and a woman in a stunning blue gown. They smiled politely, clearly eager to make your acquaintance.

“Good evening,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m Richard, and this is my wife, Emily. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You shook Richard’s hand with a firm grip, then turned to Emily. “Nice to meet you. I’m Psyke, and this is Soldier Boy.”

Emily’s eyes widened slightly at the name, but she quickly recovered with a polite smile. “Oh, I’ve heard quite a bit about both of you. This must be quite the evening for you.”

Ben leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and confident. “Well, we do try to make things interesting.”

Emily chuckled, her gaze flicking between you and Ben. “I can see that. You both seem to be quite the pair.”

Richard nodded, clearly intrigued. “So, what brings you to the gala tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Ben a sidelong glance. “Well, let’s just say we’re here to enjoy ourselves and maybe shake things up a bit.”

Ben’s grin widened, and he wrapped an arm around your waist. “Psyke here likes to keep things lively. Keeps me on my toes.”

Emily laughed, clearly charmed by the banter. “Well, it sounds like you’re both having a good time.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you said, giving Ben a playful nudge. “We’ve been having a lot of fun lately.”

The conversation continued, but you and Ben kept finding ways to tease each other, exchanging smirks and subtle touches. It was clear to everyone watching that there was more to your relationship than just a shared evening at a gala.

At one point, you caught Ben’s hand sliding down to give your ass a quick squeeze as you chatted with another guest. You raised an eyebrow and shot him a look that promised retribution later.

“Careful,” you warned in a low voice. “Or I might just have to show you who’s really in charge.”

Ben’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Looking forward to it.”

As the night wore on, you and Ben continued to mingle with the other guests, your playful teasing never missing a beat. At one point, Ben even attempted to dance with you, though his moves were decidedly more suggestive than graceful. You found yourself laughing and trying to keep up, the entire scene feeling more like a private joke between the two of you than a formal event.

A particularly snooty woman approached, her eyes narrowing as she took in Ben’s casual demeanor and your playful interactions. “I’m surprised to see you here, Soldier Boy,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “And with Psyke, no less.”

Ben’s grin didn’t falter as he gave her a once-over. “Surprised? Well, I do like to keep people on their toes.”

The woman’s lips thinned, clearly unamused by Ben’s response. “I hope you’re not disrupting the event with your...antics.”

You stepped in, leaning close to the woman with a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re just here to have a good time. If that’s too much for you, maybe you should have stayed home.”

The woman’s eyes widened in shock, and she quickly retreated, her face a mask of indignation. You and Ben exchanged a triumphant look, both of you clearly enjoying the minor scandal you’d caused.

As the evening continued, the two of you couldn’t resist finding more ways to push each other’s buttons. At one point, Ben leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, I’ve been thinking about our little ‘discussion’ earlier.”

You turned to him, a playful smile on your lips. “Oh? And what are you thinking?”

“Maybe it’s time I showed you just how much I appreciate your company,” Ben said, his voice low and suggestive.

Before you could respond, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, his hands finding their way to your ass once again. You squealed in surprise as he gave you a quick, playful squeeze, earning a few curious glances from nearby guests.

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to sound shocked. “In the middle of a gala?”

Ben’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Why not? We’re here to make an impression.”

You laughed, unable to resist his playful demeanor. “Well, in that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep you on your toes, too.”

The rest of the night passed in a whirlwind of laughter, playful banter, and more than a few surprised looks from other guests. You and Ben continued to push each other’s buttons, reveling in the way you could make even the most formal of events feel like your own personal playground.

As the evening drew to a close, you found yourselves back in the limo, the car’s interior a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour of the gala. Ben leaned back, his eyes still gleaming with satisfaction.

“Not a bad night,” he said, stretching his legs out with a contented sigh.

“Not bad at all,” you agreed, leaning back against him with a relaxed smile. “You sure know how to keep things interesting.”

Ben’s hand found its way to your thigh, his touch warm and reassuring. “Well, I do try. But I think I’m ready for the next round of fun.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a sly smile. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

Ben’s grin was pure mischief. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

NOW:

You came to on the cold, hard floor of Hughie’s kitchen. The tile felt like ice against your cheek, and you tried to push yourself up but found your limbs unresponsive. A dull ache throbbed in your head, and the world spun around you in a dizzying blur. Your vision swam, and you could barely make out the shapes of the kitchen appliances and the scattered mess of Hughie’s apartment.

Through the haze, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. They grew louder, more distinct, and you could faintly make out Hughie’s concerned voice.

“Jesus, what the hell?” Hughie’s voice was tinged with panic. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You tried to speak, but the words came out as a mumbled mess, barely audible. Your mouth felt dry, and the effort to communicate left you feeling even more disoriented.

Hughie’s footsteps grew closer, and a moment later, you felt his hands gently lifting you from the floor. “Hang on. Let’s get you out of here.”

Before Hughie could do much more, another set of footsteps pounded into the kitchen. Ben burst through the door, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on you. His face went from confusion to fury in an instant.

“What the fuck happened?” Ben’s voice roared through the room, filled with an edge of panic. “Why the hell is she on the goddamn floor?”

Hughie looked sheepish, his face flushed with embarrassment. “I—I found her like this. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed as he approached, his anger palpable. “You found her like this? How the fuck long ago?”

“Just a few minutes,” Hughie stammered. “I was in the other room and—”

“—Jesus Christ,” Ben cut him off, his voice low and dangerously sharp. “You had her on the floor for more than a few minutes? What the hell kind of shit show is this?”

Without waiting for an answer, Ben knelt beside you. His rough hands were surprisingly gentle as he helped you onto your back. You were barely aware of what was happening, your head spinning and your limbs feeling like lead.

“Hey, stay with me,” Ben said, his voice a harsh whisper but filled with concern. “Can you hear me?”

You tried to nod, but the motion made your head spin even more. You blinked slowly, trying to focus on his face, which hovered above you like a shadowy figure.

Ben’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression was still a mixture of anger and worry. “Jesus, you’re out of it. What the hell did you take?”

“I… don’t know,” you managed to croak out, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I… can’t remember.”

“Of course you can’t,” Ben muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Alright, we’re not calling the fucking hospital. Not yet. We’ll deal with this ourselves.”

He glanced over at Hughie. “Get some fucking pillows or something. We need to get her off the floor and make sure she’s okay.”

Hughie scrambled to follow Ben’s instructions, rushing to fetch a few cushions from the couch and placing them under your legs. Ben moved with a rough efficiency, lifting you and maneuvering you onto the sofa with surprising care. He propped your legs up with the pillows, making sure you were as comfortable as possible given the circumstances.

As you lay there, trying to steady your breathing, Ben hovered nearby, his face a mask of intense focus mixed with frustration. He looked at Hughie, who was standing awkwardly by the counter, clearly feeling out of his depth.

“Alright,” Ben said, his voice still sharp but less panicked. “What the fuck happened here, Hughie? Did she just fall or something?”

Hughie shook his head, clearly rattled. “I don’t know. I came in and found her like this. She was just lying there.”

Ben let out a frustrated sigh, turning back to you. “You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s high as balls and you didn’t even think to call for help?”

You tried to focus on Ben’s face, his green eyes piercing through your disorientation. “High?” you mumbled, confusion evident in your voice. “I don’t… remember.”

Ben’s gaze softened just a bit, though his tone remained gruff. “Yeah, well, whatever the hell you took, it’s fucking you up pretty good. You need to stay awake, alright? Don’t go drifting off on me.”

You tried to respond, but your head was swimming, and the effort only seemed to make things worse. Ben’s frustration was evident, but there was a thread of genuine concern in his voice.

“You’re going to be fine,” Ben said, his tone a mix of roughness and reassurance. “We just need to ride this out and figure out what the hell happened.”

He looked at Hughie again. “Make yourself useful. Get us some water and maybe something to eat. If she’s been out of it for a while, she’s going to need to rehydrate and get some energy back.”

Hughie nodded quickly, darting off to the kitchen. Ben’s attention turned back to you as he settled into a nearby chair, his gaze never leaving your face.

“So, this is how you decide to spend your day?” Ben said, his voice gruff but tinged with a wry edge. “Lying on the floor, all out of it. Fucking great way to spend an evening.”

You tried to muster a weak smile, but the effort left you feeling even dizzier. “Sorry… didn’t mean to…”

Ben cut you off, his expression softening slightly despite the rough edge in his voice. “Don’t apologize. Just focus on staying awake. We’ve got this covered.”

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to read what was left of your consciousness. “And for the record, if you’re going to get yourself fucked up, at least do it somewhere I don’t have to clean up after.”

You managed a feeble chuckle, which only made your head spin more. “Noted.”

Hughie returned with a glass of water and a small plate of crackers. He set them down on the coffee table in front of you, looking more than a little relieved to have something to do. “Here you go. Try to drink some of this.”

You struggled to sit up slightly, your hands trembling as you reached for the water. Ben moved closer, his hand steadying yours as you took a few sips.

“Slowly,” he instructed. “Don’t rush it.”

You nodded weakly, your throat feeling like sandpaper as you drank. The water helped a little, though it didn’t completely clear the fog in your head.

“Better?” Ben asked, his voice still gruff but with a hint of concern.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, though the word came out as more of a slur. “Just… dizzy.”

Ben sighed, his expression a mixture of frustration and empathy. “We’ll get you through this. Just hang tight.”

Hughie watched from the sidelines, clearly feeling out of his depth. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Ben shot him a look that was both appreciative and impatient. “Just keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t slip back out. I’ll figure out what the hell we’re dealing with.”

Hughie nodded and took a seat across the room, his gaze occasionally flicking toward you with concern. You tried to focus on the voices around you, the conversations blending into a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake.

Ben stayed close, his presence a reassuring constant in the midst of the confusion. He occasionally checked your pulse, his movements deliberate and precise, and though his words were rough, there was an undeniable care in his actions.

As time passed, the disorientation began to fade slowly. You could feel the room starting to come back into focus, and the nausea receded somewhat. Ben’s gruff comments and occasional jokes about your state made the whole situation seem almost surreal, adding a touch of humor to the otherwise unsettling experience.

“So,” Ben said after a while, his tone more conversational, “what exactly did you get into, anyway? You got some sort of new drug or something?”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog from your mind. “I… I don’t know. I don’t remember.”

Ben gave a skeptical look but didn’t press the issue further. “Alright, well, let’s just get through this and figure it out. In the meantime, just try to relax and stay with us.”

You managed a faint smile, feeling a bit more lucid as the minutes went by. Ben’s rough demeanor had its own charm, and though his swearing and brusque attitude were far from comforting, there was a sense of reliability in his presence.

“Thanks,” you said softly, the words coming more easily now. “For… helping.”

Ben’s expression softened slightly, though his voice remained gruff. “Don’t mention it. Just try not to make a habit of this, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a bit better with each passing moment. Hughie continued to keep watch, his concern evident but his actions hesitant. Ben’s constant vigilance and occasional snide remarks kept you grounded, providing a steadying influence as you slowly regained your strength.

The night wore on, and as the initial haze of disorientation cleared, you felt yourself growing more coherent. Ben’s rough charm and Hughie’s well-meaning but somewhat awkward attempts to help created an oddly comforting atmosphere, despite the chaos.

Eventually, as you started to feel more like yourself, Ben leaned back in his chair, his expression a mixture of relief

and exasperation. “Well, you’re not exactly back to normal, but at least you’re not out cold on the floor anymore.”

You gave him a weak smile, appreciating the effort even if his methods were a bit unconventional. “I’ll take it.”

Ben nodded, his gaze shifting to Hughie. “Alright, I think we’re good here. Just keep an eye on her and let me know if anything changes.”

Hughie nodded, looking more relieved. “Will do. Thanks for—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ben interrupted, standing up and stretching. “Just don’t fuck it up again.”

As Ben headed for the door, he threw a final glance back at you. “And for the record, if you’re going to get yourself fucked up, at least make sure it’s something worth the trouble.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you and Hughie in the quiet of the apartment. The disorientation was mostly gone now, and you felt more like yourself, though still a bit shaky.

Hughie moved closer, offering a reassuring smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you said, your voice stronger now. “Thanks for—”

“Don’t mention it,” Hughie said quickly, though there was genuine relief in his eyes. “Just glad you’re okay.”

You nodded, grateful for his concern even if his presence had felt a bit like a secondary player in the drama. Then you frowned. “Cocksucker.”

“Yeah?” Hughie instantly answered, perking up a little, making you inwardly laugh at the fact that he actually responded to that.

“I didn’t take anything that strong.” You frowned, rubbing your forehead. If so, what the fuck did that?”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

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[starlightsuffered]

Nah, you've got me wanting Timmy finding out reader is pregnant the same time as Pauline with that cute fluff 😭 Can I? Can I? Like, two baby Chalamet beans 😭

Uncle (part 2)

Info - anxiety about pregnancy, being nervous, angst to fluff

I felt sick to my stomach and it wasn’t just because of the morning sickness. I couldn’t believe I’d realised the day AFTER Timothée had found out he was going to be an uncle, that I might be pregnant.

I’d woken up feeling ill. I had felt cramping in my abdomen. Timothée and I shared a dog and she’d become extremely territorial. By the end of the day I had mapped out on my calendar that I was a couple days late for my period.

I had started getting worried. I did not want Pauline to think I was stealing her thunder. I also didn’t quite know how Timothée would react. I knew he was beyond excited to be an uncle, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be a father.

The anxiety was seriously getting to me. I was having trouble sleeping. I was wearing a mask of happiness, pretending I was the picture of joy. I wanted to keep the baby. However, I wasn’t even sure I was pregnant. I was afraid to check.

“Angel, are you okay,” Timmy asked one night. My head was full of racing thoughts. I was just laying with it in his lap, thinking of all the ways I was totally fucked.

“You seem….. out of it lately,” he told me as he played with my hair.

“No, I’m fine. I’m great, and I’m so happy that-“

“Baby, I know you’re happy that Pauline is pregnant, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Timothée interrupted me.

“What do you mean?” I almost snapped. He looked a bit hurt by my tone.

“I just mean that you talk about it all the time. Even when I don’t bring it up, you do. You circle back to it all the time. I-I just wanted you to know that I haven’t lost interest in you. If you were feeling a little jealous-“

I burst into tears. I felt my body shake as I was wracked with sobs. Timothée seemed shocked but he was rubbing my back and telling me everything would be okay.

“I think I could be pregnant,” I told him, I just let it come out.

“Wait really?” He asked in shock.

“I don’t feel good. Phoebe won’t leave me alone. I missed my period. I-I don’t know what else to expect. I promise I wasn’t trying to-to detract from her or to. I don’t know-“

“Shhh, shhh, baby I know. I would never expect that. I’m sure Pauline wouldn’t either,” he soothed me.

“Y-You are talking about this like it’s already a thing,” I sniffled. “Do you, w-would you want a baby?”

“Well it seems like you don’t want one,” he said cagily. He wasn’t meeting my gaze.

“But I don’t know, another Chalamet bean…..” a smile began to curve over his lips. “They’d be cousins growing up together.”

“That sounds really sweet,” I said, feeling myself calm.

“So, you wouldn’t mind?” He asked.

“I want the baby, if they exist,” I agreed.

Timothée was absolutely beaming now. He didn’t need to speak, he just began to kiss me. Before I knew what was happening he’d picked me up and was carrying me bridal style to the car. He made sure to buckle me in and drive to the store.

“You’re so goofy,” I giggled as he rushed out telling me to stay put and not strain myself. He came back out panting with a pregnancy test.

“You want me to check now?” I asked.

“As soon as possible. We have to know if the bean is in there,” he cooed at my still flat stomach.

“I swear you were made to be a dad,” I chuckled.

He zipped back to our place. He was torn between kissing me and begging me to go to the bathroom. I finally made it in and peed on the stick. I brought it out so we could wait for the lines together.

“It’s positive!” Timothée crowed. He was doing a happy dance as I laughed.

We made the call to Pauline together. She was completely overjoyed. I was absolutely overwhelmed with emotions as she congratulated and we happily discussed all the things we could do together.

“I love a bargain,” Timothée murmured as we cuddled. “A dad and an uncle.”

“I can’t believe I was afraid to tell you,” I sighed.

“No more fear baby momma,” Timothée comforted me.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[goldenfoxe]

Anniversary

Heed the tags/warnings

be gentle the last time i wrote a fanfic i was like 13 and it was a jacob sartorius sugar daddy fic.

pairing: Cody Rhodes x y/n

warnings/tags: Softdom! cody, slight degradation if you squint a lil, Cody is a dirty talk GOD, lots of praise, clothes being ripped off, fem pronouns used,  reader has a vagina, P in V, no protection, oral (f recieving), I unironically refer to a vagina as a cunt and you gotta cope.  

@alyyaanna @juceynightmare​ Here’s the full carton of juice, please feel free to critique me your my siblings I’m trusting you to be brutal. 

For their anniversary Cody had planned to cook y/n a nice dinner and watch a movie together at home. What he didn’t expect was to walk into their shared bedroom and see her sprawled out in Cody’s favorite lingerie. “God honey, what’s all this for hm?” he rumbles, crawling onto the bed and hovering over her. She whines softly, looking up at Cody and running her hands over the man’s shoulders “Wanted to surprise you for our anniversary, do you like it?” 

Cody ran his hands over the fabric with a groan “I do, looks gorgeous on you darling” he smirks and gently grasps y/n’s panties “I’ll buy you a new set love, promise”. 

She looks up at Cody, confused “What do you m-” She can’t even finish the sentence before the panties are ripped off of her body. “CODY!” she huffs, slapping his shoulder “Those were expensive”. 

Cody laughs, looking down at where she’s leaking onto the bed and smirking “As I said, I’ll buy you a new set sugar, promise, but judging off how wet you are, I think you liked that”. He rips off her bra as well, tossing the torn fabric behind him. “So pretty for me honey, all laid out like this” he kisses her jaw and kisses down to her breasts, starting to suck marks into them. 

“Cody-” she whines out his name, hips searching desperately for any kind of friction “Don’t be a tease, need you so bad” She tugs his hair, pulling him up and kissing him 

Cody kisses her back needily before pushing her into the bed and sliding down, gently kissing her clit. “I know what you need honey don’t worry I’ll take care of you” He smirks and licks from her hole to her clit, groaning softly at the taste of her slick.  “mm taste so good for me honey, my pretty girl” He pulls her legs up, hooking them over his shoulders and leaning down, sucking on her clit 

“fuck- feels so good, so good” she whines from underneath him, eyes rolling into the back of her head as Cody looks up at her from between her legs. She moaned loudly as he pushed a finger into her cunt, gently fucking her with it as she gripped onto his hair. “please Cody, more need more please”

Cody smirked at her begging, gently pushing another finger into her and scissoring her open, gently scraping his teeth against her clit. He put his free arm around her waist, holding her down. “be still.” he growled softly, pushing in a third finger. “So needy for me princess, poor thing” he chuckles as she whines, her legs starting to shake as he rubs her clit with his thumb “Gonna cum for me baby?” 

“mhm!” she whines, legs tightening around the man’s head as she cums, gushing around his fingers. “That’s it, princess, that’s my good girl” He smirks, pulling his fingers out of her cunt and licking her slick off of his hand. She whined, pulling Cody up and kissing him needily. Cody kissed her back passionately before leaning up and quickly pulling all of his clothes off. He climbed back onto the bed, kissing her again and wrapping her legs around his waist before slowly filling her cunt with his cock.  

“mm fuck” Y/N whines, legs tightening around his waist.  Cody chuckled, starting to slowly fuck into her “Here you go sugar, I’ve got you, I know what you  need honey.” He smiled as she wrapped her legs around his waist, speeding up his thrusts  “Look at you, so pretty underneath me like this, my pretty princess aren’t you?” He kissed her neck as she bit her lip, trying to hide her moans “Nuh uh, go on and moan for me baby, let me hear you.” He kissed her cheek before leaning up, looking into her eyes, and smirking when she started moaning loudly. “There’s my good girl, so good for me baby.” He smiled, leaning down and biting marks into her shoulders “My pretty girl, so  good for me baby.” He smiles, leaning down and softly kissing her, running his fingers through her hair.  She smiles into the kiss and then groans “Mm more need more please Cody.” 

Cody starts rubbing her clit with his thumb “Of course princess, you close, gonna cum on my cock?”  he chuckles “Mhm, feels so good” she moans as her legs shake slightly around his waist and he increases the pressure on her clit. “go on baby girl, cum for me” he smiles as he feels her tightening around her cock “so sensitive, so easy to make you cum princess” he groans softly, thrusts starting to get sloppy “fuck princess gonna fill you up okay? cum with me baby” He bites his lip, rubbing her clit a little bit faster

She moans loudly, eyes rolling back as she cums, squeezing around his cock and groaning as he fills her up. “That’s it, princess, fuck you feel so good” he moans, pulling out and sliding down her body, licking his cum out of her cunt before leaning up and kissing her, pushing the cum into her mouth. “there you go princess” 

He smirks and kisses her cheek, getting off of the bed and picking her up, and starting to take her to the bathroom “Let's get you cleaned up pretty girl, did so good for me” he smiles turning the shower on and making sure the water is warm he sets her down in the shower and joins her, grabbing a washcloth and gently cleans her off, cleaning himself off after. Once he’s finished he helps her out and dries them both off with a warm towel. He carries her back to the bedroom and sets her on the bed, pulling on a pair of boxers before helping her into a soft pair of pajamas and laying down, pulling her into him. “Come cuddle princess” he smiles and kisses her temple “I think that might’ve been the best anniversary surprise ever, I love you, hun,” he says, pulling the covers over both of them “I love you too” she smiles and lays her head on his chest, drifting off to sleep.

[marigold-hills]

June 21: inhale | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 534

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

Remus, drink in each hand, flushed face, broad smile, heads towards where Sirius is standing. Mary disappears as if they weren’t talking, just walks off without even a pretence of an excuse.

“Made this for you,” Remus pushes one of the drinks into his hand. It’s violently blue, steaming a bit and glistens in the low light of the Common Room.

“What is it?”

“Nothing that will get you too drunk, don’t worry. But try it. You’ll like it.”

Sirius takes it and Remus taps his wand to the side of the glass. The liquid inside swirls, little starts glisten in the shimmering puffs of smoke. It’s almost too pretty to be drunk but Remus is so full of anticipation he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It’s not the liquid but the steam that Sirius has first, inhaling it as he raises the glass to his mouth. It tastes like the first time they got drunk together. (Smuggled firewhiskey they all pretended to enjoy, dark winter night, secrets shared under the cover of alcohol.)

“I found the potion Honeydukes uses. What did you think?”

“I think you’re the most brilliant thing to have ever walked this planet.”

Remus honest to Merlin blushes, tips of his ears and the hollow of his throat all turning red.

“Amazing singing, by the way,” Sirius continues because he wants to see how far he can push it, how flustered can he get his Moony, “and this top… you should show your hipbones off more often.” Places a hand just there, thumb skimming the sharp edge of bone.

It’s more intoxicating than the alcohol, the way Remus breathes in.

“Although I might get jealous if people keep looking at you like this.”

And that, of all things, is what shatters Remus. “Jealous?” He asks, voice like torn parchment, eyes wide.

Sirius thinks oh, don’t you know? You must know, because Remus looks so unsure but so hopeful. Enough to break his own conviction and tell him, right here, right now, tell him about everything… but they’re both drunk. Remus deserves better than something half-baked and alcohol-fuelled.

Before he can make his mind up one way or the other, before the blush disappears from the tip of Moony’s nose (and he wants to kiss him, kiss it, right there), James bounds up to them, energy of a wild animal, mused up hair and a rather impressive trail of hickeys down his neck.

“Alright there, gentlemen?”

Remus is smiling like the interruption doesn’t matter. Sirius doesn’t want to break the contact between them, so he doesn’t, holds onto Moony’s hip, manoeuvres to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Alright, Prongs?”

“I’m in love,” dipy grin, bright eyes.

“We all know that, mate,” Remus laughs.

“Yeah but… ah, it’s… can’t talk about it. I promised.”

Sirius exchanges a look with Moony, both of them eyeing the bruises on James’ neck he definitely didn’t give himself.

“Happy for you.”

“You know what? Me too!” James is exuberance personified. “Let’s do shots about it, yeah?”

So, they do, and then they get a little high with Peter, and the night goes on for so long it feels like it will never end.

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog @shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks @bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss @prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[bruisedboys]

yes hi! i kind of have an emergency request if you’d be willing to follow through with it :) i got into an argument and got yelled at a lot about how what i do isn’t good enough, and i started crying haha

so if there’s any way you could do like? sirius walking in on reader kind of maybe sobbing their (she/her if possible but no pressure!!) eyes out about that and maybe some comfort?

thank you for reading this, i appreciate it🙏 and again no pressure!!

hello sweet angel! I’m really very sorry to hear that my lovely :( nobody deserves to be told that, I’m sorry honey and I want you to know I think you’re more than good enough! I tried to make this not too specific so I hope it’s okay! 🤍🤍🤍

sirius black x fem!reader cw for a mean coworker

Sirius walks in the front door and Remus and James swoop on him instantly, both talking loudly and at the same time.

“Sirius—“

“It’s your girlfriend, mate, she’s—“

“In your bedroom, she’s really upset—“

“We didn’t know what to do—“

Sirius drops his bag on the floor and puts his hands up to get them to quit talking. “Woah, what? Y/N’s here?”

Remus backs off, James doesn’t. He’s got a lot of worry in his big brown eyes. Sirius feels a rush of gratitude for his lovely friend that he won’t ever admit to.

“Yeah, man,” James nods exuberantly. “She’s super sad. We tried to help but she only wants you. She’s in your bedroom.”

Sirius’ heart gives a painful twang. He thanks his friends hastily and shucks off his shoes, jogging down the hall to his bedroom. The door’s closed, but he thinks he can hear you crying.

He opens the door and finds you perched on the end of his bed, your knees pulled to your chest. You’re full on sobbing, face buried in your knees, hands pressed to your eyes harshly. You’re making this awful, awful hicupping sound that makes Sirius feel a bit sick.

“Darling,” he says. He shuts the door behind him then surges towards you. He stays close but doesn’t touch you in case you don’t want it. “Baby. It’s me, I’m here.”

You look up. Your eyes are red and wet and it’s maybe the saddest thing Sirius has ever seen. He tries not to cry himself.

“Siri,” you choke out wetly. You unfold yourself and hold your arms out to him, hands grabbing at his hips. You pull at him and he goes happily, stepping in between your legs, arms curling around your shaking form.

You press your face into his abdomen and cling to him, hands bunched in the back of his shirt. You and him stay like that for a long, heavy moment. It’s only when you’ve stopped shaking that Sirius feels he can breathe. He presses you to his chest protectively.

“Baby,” he says. “Are you hurt? What’s going on, hm?”

He’d wait to ask you til you’ve properly calmed down, but something about the way you’re crying makes him feel like the problem begs to be addressed. He knows it’s not the best approach, but maybe you’ll be more willing to talk about it now, anyway, when the upset is so fresh.

“M’sorry,” you say thickly, into the front of his shirt. Don’t be sorry, silly, Sirius wants to say. “I just— I got into an argument at work.”

Sirius heart feels heavy as lead. He feels torn in two. Half of him doesn’t want to examine any further, doesn’t want to hear what horrible things must’ve been said to you to make you cry this way. The other half of him needs to know so he can find whoever did it and give them a good hard punch.

“Aw, honey.” He pulls back ever so slightly. You don’t let him get very far, hands tight where they grip his waist as if you’re worried he’ll leave. He stays very close but takes your face in his hands. He swipes at your hot tears with the backs of his hands. More come, and he wipes those too. “I’m really sorry. What happened?”

Your lip wobbles. It breaks Sirius’ heart clean in two. “It was over something so silly,” you whisper shakily. “But he got so mad, and started saying such awful things. I started crying and even when it was over I couldn’t stop.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and fresh tears spill from the corners and onto Sirius’ fingers. He wants to take all the sadness from you, all the hurt, cause he’d rather he feel it a hundred times over than you have to feel it once. You blink up at him, eyelashes wet and clinging to one another.

Sirius strokes your cheek. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s sorry? He’ll murder the guy if you want him to? He watches as you exhale a long breath through your mouth, eyelids fluttering as you lean into his hand. He knows you feel safe with him, you’ve told him so, but this particular action in itself confirms it for him.

“Honey,” he says, dripping with emotion that he’d never dare show with anyone but you. “I’m really sorry.” He drags a hand down your cheek, stops at your jaw and holds you there. “I’m really really sorry that happened to you.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Siri. It’s not— maybe I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re not,” Sirius says firmly. “You’re definitely not. What did he say to you, sweet thing?”

“I—“ You stop, and Sirius knows you probably don’t want to tell him because you’re the kind of person who won’t burden someone else for your gain. It’s part of the reason he’s so angry for you. “He just said some mean things.”

Sirius shouldn’t, but he presses. “Like what?”

You’re already warm but you go warmer under Sirius’ hold. “He— well, he told me what I was doing wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t trying hard enough,” you admit, shame faced. “It was awful, but I don’t know, he was really mad, so you know. He was kind of just saying anything.”

A sort of white hot anger builds in Sirius’ chest, thick and burning, lava hot. It climbs to his throat and strains his voice. “That doesn’t matter.” He sounds angrier than he wants to. But it’s you, and he’s gonna be fiercely protective over you for the rest of his life, he thinks. “He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

You blink at your lap. “Yeah.”

Sirius sighs. He can tell you don’t really want to talk about it. He wouldn’t, either. He takes a big breath, let’s the anger melt away, at least for now. He takes your hands in his and feels your soft skin, the steady pulse at your wrist. The bubbling anger in his chest ebbs.

“It’s not true,” he tells you softly. “It’s not. Of course what you do is good enough.”

You look up at him, an expression on your face that reminds Sirius of a puppy. You’re not crying anymore, thankfully, though he’d let you if you had to.

“I know,” you say quietly.

“Good.” Sirius bends at the waist to wrap you in a strong hug, pleased when you hug back just as hard. “That’s good. You’re incredible, you know? And I love you so much, baby.”

You heave a shuddering breath and Sirius shivers as your fingers dance up his spine and down again. “I know you do, Siri. I love you, too.”

Sirius pulls back and chucks you under than chin. “You’ll tell me who it was, won’t you?” He asks lowly. “I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to know. I’m sure Remus and James would to, they were really worried about you, doll.”

You smile, pretty as ever though you’ve been crying so much. “Yeah, I’ll tell you.”