#(he wasn't going to be in there but then he came in at the last minute)

[v6quewrlds]

imagine giving joe a hickey.

author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by @lovelyburrow, some sub!joe undertones (my bad)

Joe was always very selective about PDA. He liked to keep his relationship with you private. It was something sacred to him, not to be shared with the prying eyes of the public or his even teammates. So, when he felt the warmth of your lips on his neck the night before, he didn't think much of it. He had no idea the kisses and nips to his neck would lead him to this.

He entered the hotel conference room, finding Ja'Marr sitting alone as players and coaches began to file in. Sam soon joined them, plopping down next to Joe with an smoothie in hand. The room filled with the low hum of male voices and the occasional burst of laughter as the Bearcats game from that afternoon replayed on the TV screens around the room.

Ja'Marr leaned over, peering at Joe's neck. "Yo, what's that on your neck?" He pointed to his neck, his eyes squinting at the sight before him.

Joe's hand shot up to cover the spot. "What are you talking about?"

"You've got a hickey the size of a quarter, bro," Sam said, his eyes wide as he brought a fist up to cover his mouth, his shoulders shaking with a deep laugh. Ja'Marr's laugh boomed through the room as Joe's eyebrows furrowed, a blush creeping up his neck. He glanced around, hoping no one else had noticed.

"What?" Joe murmured, self-consciously touching the spot.

"Come on, Joe, let's see," Ja'Marr prodded, reaching for his phone to snap a picture.

Joe slapped his hand away, "Fuck no. You're not putting that anywhere," he hissed, his cheeks burning.

Sam leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Looks like someone had a good night."

"Or a good morning," Ja'Marr piped up, still chuckling. "Did your girl sneak in before you came down?"

Joe sighed flipping his camera to selfie mode, dropping his hand, and turning his head to show the offending spot. It was definitely a hickey, a dark, round bruise that stood out against his skin. "No," he muttered, "It's from last night."

Sam leaned in to get a better look. "Damn, she wasn't playing around." He took a sip of his smoothie, pulling back with a smirk when Joe sent him a glare.

Ja'Marr chuckled. "You ain't have to stunt on us like this. Good for you, Joey B."

Joe silently thanked the heavens when Zac stood up at the front of the room, calling for the team's attention. The teasing subsided, but the guys couldn't resist throwing a few more jabs under their breath as they turned their focus to their coach. The meeting dragged on, Joe's thoughts consumed by the unwelcome brand on his neck.

Later that evening, Joe fell back against the crisp hotel sheets. His mind was racing with thoughts of how to cover the hickey before the game tomorrow. He picked up his phone and called you, hoping you would have some kind of ingenious solution. Your face filled the screen, your tired smile brightening at the sight of him.

"Hey, babe," you said, your voice warm and unassuming. "How's the hotel?"

"It's fine," Joe replied, his tone flat. He felt his annoyance rise as he thought about the hickey. "But I've got a problem." He turned his head slightly, showing you the reddish blemish that was beginning to purple around the outer edges.

Your eyes lit up with amusement. "Oh," you giggled. "Is that from last night?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is, and it's not funny."

You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling. "Well, you never told me to take it easy," you said, your voice teasing. "I got a little carried away. That's not a crime."

Joe felt his own smile tugging at his lips despite his embarrassment. "It's not funny," he said, trying to keep his tone serious, but failing. "What am I gonna do?"

Your laughter subsided, your expression turning thoughtful. "Makeup?" you suggested. "You can get some concealer to cover it up before the game."

"Makeup?" Joe echoed, his disbelief clear. "You want me to wear makeup?"

Your smile grew. "Well, not exactly. You don't have to go full glam. Just a little dab of concealer to even out the skin tone."

Joe groaned, rubbing a hand through his damp hair with a scowl. "Where am I gonna get makeup from? Won't it melt off from the sweat anyway?"

Your eyes danced with amusement. "Well, I guess you gotta own it, Burrow. Maybe it'll be your new good luck charm," you said, leaning closer to the camera to kiss the screen. "From me to you."

Joe couldn't argue with your logic, though the thought of walking onto the field with a glaring hickey didn't sit well with his image. He sighed, nodding. "Alright, I'll figure it out. Thanks for the support," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Anytime," you said, your laughter bubbling up again. "Good luck tomorrow. Love you."

Joe couldn't help but smile back. "Love you too." He ended the call, feeling a bit more at ease despite the looming embarrassment of tomorrow. He decided to take your advice and own the hickey. It was a small price to pay for how down bad he was for you. Plus, he had to admit, the idea of you leaving your mark on him was kind of hot.

His confidence lasted until the next afternoon, when Joe found himself in the locker room, surrounded by his teammates and their knowing glances. He felt like he had a neon sign pointing at his neck. The guys didn't let up, making hushed comments and sharing smirks every time he looked their way. It was clear that the news had spread through the team like wildfire. Joe tried to ignore them, focusing on his preparations for the game. But as he pulled on his jersey, the fabric brushed against the tender spot, a stark reminder of his predicament.

He stepped onto the field for warm-ups, the cool air hitting his bare neck. The stadium lights seemed to highlight the hickey even more. Joe felt his jaw clench and his face grow hot, but he forced a straight face as he threw the ball around. He had a game to play, a job to do, and he wasn't about to let a little thing like a hickey throw him off his game.

By the time he returned home that night, a win tucked under his belt, Joe was exhausted. He was looking forward to cuddling with you and forgetting about the long weekend. But the moment he walked through the door, you were trying to suppress your amusement, your eyes dancing every time you looked at him.

"Okay," Joe sighed, his chest deflating beneath your head as he exhaled deeply. "What are you smiling about?"

You couldn't hold it in any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles. "You looked so grumpy all game," you exclaimed, poking his chest playfully. "You were trending on Twitter again."

Joe groaned, his hand sliding from his neck to his face. "I know," he said, his voice muffled by his palm. "Couldn't believe it when Sam told me."

You sat up, your laughter fading into a gentle smile as you reached over to trace the hickey with your finger. "You looked like a spoiled toddler," you said, your eyes sparkling with affection. "It's kind of cute, you know."

Joe rolled his eyes, his irritation from the day melting away. "Cute is not the word I would've chosen," he muttered, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I can't believe you did this to me. Destroyed my neck like a chew toy."

You leaned in to kiss him, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Could've stopped me," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "But you didn't."

Joe chuckled despite his feigned annoyance. "I guess I was a little preoccupied," he admitted, his voice low.

"A little?" you teased, your eyes twinkling. "I think you liked being my chew toy."

Joe's cheeks flushed, and he couldn't help but laugh. "Okay," he conceded. "Maybe a little."

You leaned back, your expression satisfied. "So, you're not mad at me?"

Joe sighed, his annoyance giving way to a fond smile. "Mad? Nah, I can't be mad at you," he said, pulling you closer. "It's just, you know how I feel about PDA. It's all over the internet now."

You shrugged, kissing away his pout. "Well, at least your fangirls know you're taken," you said, planting another kiss on the bruised spot.

Joe grimaced, but couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through him at your touch. "Very funny," he said, his tone laced with affection.

"You have a pretty neck," you whispered playfully, your hand moving to his neck again as your eyes darted over his skin as if examining where you could stake your claim next. "You want another one?"

Joe rolled his eyes but didn't stop you. Your touch was gentle and loving, a welcome contrast from the rough teasing from his teammates. "Just don't make it any bigger," he said, his voice a mix of exasperation and resignation.

[theythemstarr]

This reply is actually extremely ignorant and baseless and I will autistic Beatle post because what the absolute hell

I don't care if this post is a joke, it spreads a false and nonsensical narrative that isn't true nor accurate

No, Ringo isn't the backseat Beatle and they ALL LOVED HIM, that much is very true, reading into things more, you'll find that it's as simple as you think it is

They literally DIDN'T WANT TO GO TO AUSTRALIA WITHOUT HIM, MIND YOU BRIAN HAD TO CONVINCE THEM

Not only that, who do you think wanted and vouched for him to be in the band in the first place??

You made it sound as if the Beatles saw Ringo as a fucking nusense rather than THEIR LONG TIME FRIEND OF 60 PLUS YEARS

YOU'RE DOING THE VERY THING THE POST YOU REPLIED TO SPOKE ABOUT

Here, some posts that contradict this very reply, also keep in mind that if this post was

Here's Brian Epstein talking about how Ringo was literally the missing piece

Here's another post, in Brian Epstein's word, detailing how he wasn't keen on Ringo joining at first but how the boys, were and how much they wanted him.

Not only that but Brian ended up viewing Ringo as not only a great member of the band but as a valued friend.

John complimenting Ringo

Not the mention the fact that Ringo was there for John during his filming of "How I won the war"

Oh and by the way, this is John Lennon's reaction to Ringo finally joining them in Australia after he was sick

So yeah, y'all the Beatles didn't fucking hate Ringo 😭 he was their little guy, in the same breath you could also say that John and Paul hated George Harrison but again, that's just not true

we all just need to take a minute to realize that ringo starr is the best person on the planet.

[thesuperiorrobin]

She knew~

pairing: Damian Wayne x Crush!Reader

Warning: Agnsty? Not that much I promise, good ending, maybe, slight swearing? Reader is a bit flirty??? I think there’s a part 2.

There's something about laying in a hospital bed that's so humbling for Damian.

His arm was in a cast and his head was wrapped in bandages. A mission went wrong, that was covered up by a so-called "terrible car accident". Everybody believed it, because why would they believe the truth of Damian taking a bad fall dress up in his Robin uniform? Some of his brothers tease him for what had happened that night, and if he wasn't held back by his position in the hospital he was sure he would have all their heads on a stick by now. His father didn't seem any bit worried about him, that's what Damian thought, after the countless scoldings he's gotten he's sure his father doesn't care.

Damian has spent the last two days in the hospital, on the third day he'll be released. And he can't wait, the smell, the atmosphere the so-called food they serve him-- he can't wait to leave it all behind. But for now, Damian lies on the slightly uncomfortable bed with a book in his good hand. His family hasn't bothered him in a while and he's thankful for that, he's gotten used to soft voices through his room door and soft beeping occasionally that seemed to echo through his hospital room.

There’s a soft knock on the door that catches his attention and he groans—thinking it’s one of his family members coming to visit home again.

Damian prays it’s just a nurse coming to check up on him. He chooses not to answer and after a few seconds the door opens up—the person who steps into his dull white room was not the person he was expecting.

In you go, with a bouquet in your hand dressed in your school uniform.

"Hey" your voice is soft and careful "how are you feeling?"

Damian doesn't answer right away, he pretends to think about his answer before he clears his throat "I feel like I could be doing better at the moment" he places his book down.

"Here, these are for you" you hand him the flowers "I just came to see how you were doing, everybody's worried”

"Only because I'm the son of Bruce Wayne" he murmurs, glaring at you softly—scoffing as he does so.

"That's not true" you frown, He gives you a look "Well Maybe, yeah I guess you're right, but I'm worried Damian. I saw the news and the cars. Damian you could have been killed"

"But I wasn't L/N so there is no need to worry about that anymore"

You let out a sigh as you pull a chair beside him on his bed, It's been a while since you last saw him, two weeks to be precise almost three. Your eyes linger on him for a bit longer. He looks more tired than usual and angry. His hair is messy, with strands of hair spiked up in random directions. Though purple and blue covered his skin from head to toe he still seemed visually breathtaking.

"Did you just come here to just stare at me?" He snaps, and you jump back in your seat, a part of him regrets snapping at you so suddenly, that you clear your throat with a smile.

"Sorry, I'm just used to you being….” You trail off for a moment trying to find the right words to not offend the younger Wayne in his condition. “…so well organized. If I had a penny for every time I've seen you a mess I would have one”

His only response was a hum, and the room was silent between you two. The only sound echoing through the room was the soft voices from outside the room and the beeping of the monitor. “It’s quiet in most of the classes now. Did you know that?”

“How so?”

“Teachers pointed out how quiet the classes are since you’ve gotten stuck in the hospital. We’re known for yapping away in the back of class” You let out a breathy laugh, glancing up at Damian who holds a frown.

“You mean yourself?” Damian raises his brow at you “I normally don’t hold conversations. The teachers were probably talking about you—you do tend to talk a lot”

“Rude” You huff out and a chuckle leaves the injured Wayne's lips, which brings a smile to yours “But I guess you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to. You’re usually the only have I have a good laugh within class”

Somehow, your hand finds his. All bandaged and bruised but you don’t mind and Damian says nothing. His green eyes glance down at your face, hoping to meet yours but you keep them focused down at his hand. Despite the thick layer of bandages, he can still feel the warmth of your fingers as they softly glide against his palm.

“I miss complementing your artwork, it’s not the same when I’m looking beside me and see someone else’s artwork”

“You only compliment them when you copy my notes” he hums, “you say it as a thank you when I let you do so”

“Mhm..” you hum “but now, every time I look beside me there’s always a student sleeping with their paper blank”

“Maybe you should start writing your notes….”

“I could…” you trail off, head lifting slightly to meet his eyes. “But what’s the point if I can’t use it as an excuse to talk to you?”

It takes a while for Damian to answer fully. He can feel his skin feel out, and he’s sure you can fill it, too, with a smug smile on your face. He looks away, away from your eyes, as he answers, “True….”

There’s another long silence between you two, a comfortable one and Damian can feel your hand slip away from his—it takes so much in him not to grab ahold of your hand once more. He hears the sudden screech of the chair against the floor, he turns his head—eyes locking in on your form. He wishes you could stay a little longer, your presence is the only thing that doesn’t annoy him as much as others do, and a part of him wants to tell you to stay a bit more but he bites his tongue.

He sees your hand hover over the doorknob, and you seem to hesitate for a moment, he does wish you decided to stay a bit longer. A heavy sigh leaves your lips, turning around to glance back at Damian, who only stares at you confusedly.

"Just because you wear a mask in the middle of the night while playing hero Damian, doesn't mean you're invincible"

huh?

"But anyway ill visit you tomorrow so I can hand you the homework you missed"

you give him one last smile before your figure disapears from his sight. Even after you left, his eyes burn holes at the door for a few more minutes before groaning and pulling at his hair in stress

"She knew?!"

Literally in the middle of my Art history class writing this Because I had nothing better to do.

[makeitmingi]

When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 13]

Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn

Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho

Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?

[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]

Word count: 3.3K

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the scarf around your neck. It was another day of going to Hongjoong's place to do your gardening duties. Also, it was the first time seeing him after you cried in his arms at his mother's grave.

"Gosh, can you be any more embarrassing?" You asked your reflection with a click of your tongue. With a soft sigh, you went to gather your stuff.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Coming!" You ran to open the door, thinking it was the chauffeur that was usually sent to pick you.

"Oh! Hongjoong! I was not expecting you." You blinked as he stood at your door.

"I was in the area for a meeting and thought I could come pick you instead. I hope you don't mind, the chauffeur told me what floor you live on." Hongjoong smiled, tucking his phone back into his coat.

"Not at all. I'm about done, please come in. Don't mind the mess." You said, letting him step in.

"Thanks. Take your time." He bowed his head and entered behind you, removing his shoes in the entrance way.

"I have to bring these down, it shouldn't be too heavy." You gestured before running back into your bedroom to get your socks and handphone. Hongjoong looked around the place, contrary to what you said, there was no mess at all. It was a cozy, little apartment, simple but neat.

"That should be everything... Would you like a drink? Sorry I didn't offer you one when you came in." You chuckled, putting your tools together into a tote bag.

"No worries, I'm good. I had a coffee on the way here." He smiled from his seat on your couch.

"We can go now." You said to him.

"Sure, let me help." He took one of the bags that had fertiliser in it, leaving you to carry the light stuff. Your heart warmed at the sight of the Porsche convertible, he must have brought it for you.

"If the things can't fit in the boot, I'll have them on my lap." You told him as he loaded the stuff in.

"We should be fine. It'll be uncomfortable to have things on your lap." Hongjoong said as he arranged the stuff to make space.

"There." He placed the last bag in and closed the boot. After opening the door for you to enter the passenger seat, he closed the door and ran over to the driver's side.

Before moving out of the parking space, Hongjoong put the hood down then started to drive. It wasn't as awkward anymore but you did still feel embarrassed after what happened last time. He saw you cry and you cried all over his probably expensive suit.

"Is it too warm? Shall I put the hood back up?" Hongjoong asked, having noticed the uncomfortable expression on your face.

"No, not at all. You don't have to put the hood back up. I'm enjoying it, don't worry." You shook your head, continuing to look out instead of look in Hongjoong's direction.

"Welcome back, sir."

The intercom voice sounded as Hongjoong pulled up to the gates of the estate before they opened the let you in.

"Although it's such a long walk, the greenery along the driveway makes it such a nice sight." You commented. Hongjoong let out a hum of agreement.

The others must heard of Hongjoong's arrival at the gate because you saw a butler and two maids waiting there for your arrival.

"There are stuff in the back, take it and help her bring it to the back garden." Hongjoong said, coming out of the driver's seat.

"Yes, sir. Right away." They stepped forward to retrieve your items from the boot as Hongjoong opened the door for you. You stood there awkwardly, unsure of what you were supposed to do now. You were still not used to this, you've always done everything yourself without any butlers or maids.

"Right this way, ma'am." One of the maids bowed, leading you into the house. Hongjoong re-entered the car and drove off, presumably to park his car.

"(y/n)! You're here." Mingi grinned.

"Hi, Mingi." You bowed your head, still finding yourself acting formal with the others.

"Have you eaten?" He asked with a tilt of his head, munching on the slice of toast in his hand. You mentally chuckled, imagining all the crumbs he must be dropping onto the ground.

"I have. Thank you." You smiled.

"Good. If you get hungry, ask the chef to make you something, alright? Don't go hungry." He winked and went upstairs.

"Miss, shall we leave the things here?" The butler asked as you stepped out into the backyard.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you so much for your help." You bowed repeatedly to them. They smiled and bowed back to you before taking their leave. The first thing you did was take your notepad out to check your to-do list for today.

"Good morning, (y/n)." You turned to see Seonghwa standing there, cradling a cup of tea in his hands. He was dressed in a button up white shirt and wide pants, making him look casual but elegant.

"Good morning, Seonghwa. How has your morning been?" You asked with a smile.

"Busy as usual. Have you seen Hongjoong? I heard he went to pick you up after his meeting." He enquired.

"Yeah, he did. He dropped me off out front and I assumed that he was just going to park the car but I guess not?" You giggled as Seonghwa rolled his eyes.

Another thing you learnt was that while Hongjoong kept everyone else in check, Seonghwa kept Hongjoong in check.

"Never mind him then. How has the garden been coming along?" He moved closer to look.

"Hopefully making progress. I managed to move the plants to where they need to be, in the proper soils without having to compete for nutrients. Today, it's laying fertiliser and all that." You explained.

"The plants are in good hands then." He chuckled and you nodded your head. Seonghwa's phone ringing pulled him away, the both of you bowed your heads to each other as he entered the house to answer the call. You let out a sigh of relief, still feeling slightly intimidated by him and his energy.

"Are you scared of Seonghwa hyung?"

"Ah!" You yelped, jumping back and clutching onto your heart, as you came face to face with Jongho. He smiled cheekily at you before straightening up.

"You scared me, Jongho." You let out a sigh as you picked up the trowel that you dropped.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you scared of Seonghwa hyung?" He raised an eyebrow, repeating his question.

"He's a little intimidating... His aura and everything. Like a critique that you want to try and impress...? I don't even know if that makes any sense." You tried your best to explain it to him.

"I get it, Seonghwa hyung has that effect on people." Jongho nodded.

"But you know, we're not that scary. We may seem like we're scary people but we're not." He added.

"I know, I'm slowly learning that." You giggled as you used the trowel to loosen up the packed soil around the plant roots. Jongho watched you take the fertiliser and add it to the soil, using your hands to manually pack it in so it wouldn't be too tight.

Jongho stood there, watching you. He has never met a girl that was willing to get down and have her hands in the dirt. It still amused and amazed him to watch you work.

"Is there anything else you need, Jongho?" You asked, realising he was looming over quietly.

"Nope. Just watching you work, it's rather fascinating and I'm learning something new when I do." He shrugged.

"It's just taking care of the plants. It is concerning that your previous gardeners never did these. But it's not surprising, considering all the mistakes I found." You mumbled the last part.

"You're funny, (y/n)."

"I just don't like that the plants suffer at the hands of someone who is literally paid to take care of them." You sighed.

"I get it, I get it. Don't worry, that guy is gone and we have you now." He smiled.

Although, when Jongho said 'gone', you assumed it meant that the previous gardener was fired. You didn't know that Jongho meant that the guy was no longer alive.

"Ah, Jongho ah. Stop disturbing her and let her work. You should be doing your own work too!" Seonghwa yelled from the glass doors, presumably having finished his phone call. Jongho scoffed, offended that Seonghwa would suggest he was disturbing you. You giggled at their banter, they were really close.

"Well, I'll see you later, (y/n)." Jongho did conceed. You waved as he entered the house to go back to work.

"Alright, what's next?" You stood up, dusting your hands. You went to retrieve the other bag of fertiliser to move to another garden patch. These fertilisers were all personally mixed together by you.

"Grow well." You wished the plant, hoping your custom mix of fertilisers would provide the plants with what they needed.

"Maybe one day, there'll be a compost area here for all the waste." You thought out loud.

"We should, there's enough space." You turned to see Hongjoong standing there with a small smile on his face. He had gotten rid of his jacket and was in a shirt and pants.

"Seonghwa came to look for you earlier. Playing hooky?" You teased.

"Just because I wasn't in my office, he thinks I was out skipping work." Hongjoong rolled his eyes with a scoff.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to have some lunch." Hongjoong said. You straightened up, digging for your phone to check the time. Indeed, it was already a little after noon, you didn't think you spent such a long time doing this.

"Sure, I lost track of time. Didn't know I spent so much time doing just this." You gestured. Hongjoong waited for you before walking back to the house.

"I'll go wash my hands and freshen up." You excused yourself and went to the bathroom to wash your hands and face.

"Ah, (y/n)!" Yunho ran to into you as you were exiting the bathroom. You smiled and waved at him.

"Are all of you working from home today? I seem to be running into most of you and it's only lunch time." You chuckled. Yunho laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I never know where my brothers are." He admitted.

"I guess you all have different schedules that it'll be hard to keep track. Poor Seonghwa." You giggled.

"Nah, I bet hyung secretly likes to nag us. Him and Hongjoong hyung." Yunho joked, the both of you snickering. Hongjoong watched you and Yunho laugh as you headed over.

When did you two get so close?

"Today is a warm day, you should take more breaks in the shade and make sure you drink a lot of water." Yunho smiled kindly. You nodded and bowed your head. Of course, Yunho noticed that Hongjoong had been looking at your interaction the entire time. But he wanted to rile the captain up more.

"This way." Hongjoong said to you. You stepped into the dining room, it was your first time here since you started working in the estate. Or rather, this was the first meal you've had with them.

Usually, you sit in the living room or garden gazebo to eat. Honestly, it was really intimidating.

"Sit wherever you feel comfortable." Hongjoong gestured.

"Really? Looks like there are assigned seats..." You mumbled to yourself. But Hongjoong gently placed a hand on your back to guide you forward, the seat to the right of the head.

"I sit here, you can sit with me." Hongjoong said. The seat felt like it would be the seat that's occupied for sure.

"Come, (y/n). That's Seonghwa hyung's seat." Jongho entered the dining room, pulling you along.

"You lied!" You pointed accusingly at Hongjoong, who blinked.

"Hwa doesn't care, the others are just trying to make him scarier than he actually is." Hongjoong rolled his eyes. But you were not taking the chance, you moved to sit where ever Jongho and Yunho told you to, which was next to Jongho, opposite Yunho.

"Yeosang hyung sits here but he's out for a meeting so you're good." Jongho said as the butler pulled the chair out for you to sit. You quickly bowed to him and sat down.

"Who's scarier than he actually is?" On cue, Seonghwa walked in, typing away on his phone.

"It's nothing." Hongjoong sighed.

"It's only noon and you're already sighing." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at his best friend before taking his seat, which was the exact seat Hongjoong had offered you earlier.

"See? Told you." Jongho leaned over to whisper to you and you hummed with a soft giggle.

"Just get lunch." Hongjoong said to the butler, rubbing his forehead.

"Nice to see you here, (y/n)." Seonghwa finally noticed you and smiled at you. You returned the smile and nodded your head then the trays of food came in.

"Lunch is served." The maids and butlers said as they placed trays in front of you. Your eyes widened, this was how you imagined royalty was served their meals. The food was good, regular fare, but plated nicely and arranged on an individual tray. You have never been served like this before.

"Is something wrong?" Yunho asked.

"No, not at all." You forced a smile and picked up your chopsticks. Just then, Mingi came into the dining room, letting out a loud yawn as he stretched his arms over his head.

"Mingi. That's rude." Seonghwa scolded. Mingi rubbed his eyes, a clear sign that he had just woken up.

"Oh, (y/n). You're having lunch here today." Mingi acknowledged as he took his seat beside Yunho. You nodded and swallowed your food.

"Did you just nap since breakfast?" Yunho asked his best friend.

"Dude, I told you I didn't sleep last night so I have sleep to catch up on. I keep having issues sleeping." Mingi said, running his fingers through his messy hair as the butler put his tray down.

"You're too used to doing night stuff, that's why your body clock is having issues adjusting." Hongjoong pointed out.

"I should just be on night shift, I'm only doing Yeosang's work because he's busy taking over San's- Mmph!" Mingi's sentence was cut off as he crumpled over, wincing in pain. He turned his head to shoot Yunho a glare.

"Are you okay, Mingi?" You asked worriedly. Mingi met Yunho's eyes, who shifted in your direction.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just hit my toe against the chair leg." Mingi lied as he began to eat. You didn't notice the sigh of relief Seonghwa and Hongjoong let out.

"If that's not enough food for you, you can always ask for seconds, alright? They always make extras for us." Jongho told you.

"This is more than enough for me. I might not even be able to finish this." You chuckled.

"Is the food to your liking?" Hongjoong asked.

"It's very good. Thank you." You smiled as continued to eat. If the food wasn't to your liking, Hongjoong would have asked the cook to make you something entirely differently.

"Seconds." Seonghwa raised his hand and Yunho did the same, the maid coming forward to get their plates for more food.

"Oh gosh, I'm so full. And I should probably get back to work. Thank you for the meal." You stood up and bowed to the boys at the table, hightailing it out of there before anyone could say anything else. The 5 just sat there, blinking, stunned before turning to their captain at the head of the table.

"(y/n), hold on. Is something wrong?" Hongjoong came out from the dining room right before you could go out the glass doors. You paused in your tracks and turned around.

"No, Hongjoong. Everything is fine." You fiddled with your fingers.

"Was it that awkward and uncomfortable?" He tilted his head. You rubbed the back of your neck.

"It's not any of you... It's just... I'm supposed to be a worker too... Feels inappropriate to be sitting in that fancy dining, getting served like that." You winced.

"Oh, (y/n). There's no need for you to worry about that. You're not a worker-worker... You're my friend, it's different." He chuckled.

"I know, it just takes a while to get used to. I'm not familiar with any of this but don't worry!" You rubbed your arm.

"(y/n), if you're uncomfortable, just tell me. I know it can all be very intimidating. Don't feel forced to do anything." He smiled. The both of you walked out to the back garden together.

"No, I don't feel forced at all. And it's not just that..." You cleared your throat, trying to figure out how to find the words to tell him. Maybe you should just leave it. Telling Hongjoong your feelings might just make things more awkward between the two of you.

"Are you worried about what happened when we went to see my mum?" He asked in a soft voice.

"How... How did you..." Your eyes widened.

"I figured. (y/n), you know I don't care about stuff like that right? I'm not bothered and it doesn't change anything." Hongjoong smirked. You nodded slowly.

"Thanks." You murmured.

"Now come. I think it's finally time for me to give you a proper tour of the place." Hongjoong clapped his hands.

"Don't you have to work? Don't any of you have to work?" You threw your head back with a groan. Hongjoong just laughed and gestured for you to go back into the house for the tour.

"Hang on." You paused and he nodded.

"Take your time." He watched you fiddle with one of the bags you had brought and retrieved what looked like a small white linen bag.

"Mingi! Luckily you're still here. I just remembered that I had this in my bag of gardening stuff. Here you go." You handed the taller the small white bag just as he was leaving the dining room. Both him and Hongjoong looked confused but Mingi lifted the white bag to take a sniff of it.

"It smells good. What is it?" He blinked.

"Dried lavender. I use it as a natural insect repellent for plants but it's very good to help sleep too. Since you said you have trouble sleeping, you can put this by your pillow." You explained.

"Oh, thank you, (y/n). I'll definitely put this by my pillow." Mingi smiled, continuing to sniff the bag.

"I hope it helps." You smiled and he nodded before heading upstairs. You were unaware of the now slightly sulky Hongjoong behind you.

"You didn't have to do that, you know? He's just childishly whining about it." Hongjoong commented. Your eyebrows raised slightly at his words, was Hongjoong jealous?

"I know but I wanted to help since I already have the dried lavender. So I thought why not? It's not 100% effective but it may help just a little so no harm." You shrugged as you followed him up the stairs to see the rest of the house.

"Honestly in our household, almost everyone has trouble sleeping. Not sure if we're just constantly thinking about work or something." He pointed out.

"Oh, really? Well, I don't have anymore on hand now but I'll keep that in mind and bring more the next time I come." You giggled.

~

Series masterlist

[yanderegarden]

Love 100mg Warning: May be addictive

Katsuki Bakugo

Student! Katsuki Bakugo x Addict! Darling

TW: yandere-themes, non-con/dub-con ideations, profanity, kidnapping, emotional, verbal, & physical abuse, implied drug-use & addiction, withdrawal symptoms, violence, blood, forced confinement. Fem reader

Tip-Jar

You and Bakugo grew up in the same town, on the same street, and attended the same schools, yet barely exchanged anything more than a simple glance in the hallways.

Growing up, you can recall briefly watching him from the entry hall window of your home, admiring his confidence even as a child. His belief that he was capable of anything could be felt even from houses away.

Your parents kept you sheltered as a child. You had the urge to go and play with the other kids, but knowing there wasn’t much you could do, you were content staying inside.

Developing a passion for your studies at a young age, you became fascinated with your courses. Excelling in middle school, you were one of the top students.

It wasn’t until one year in middle school that you were formally introduced to Bakugo—when you both tied for first place in the science fair. You had envisioned Bakugo as someone who was confident, strong-willed, and kind...

Little did you know, his jealousy of being at the top was paired with the will to be the only one there. You felt an uneasy feeling standing next to him as you both had your picture taken by the school newspaper, holding a trophy together. You won’t forget how you tried congratulating him, saying, "I don’t know how they expected us to share this medal," attempting to lighten the mood. But he simply replied, "Keep the stupid medal. It'll probably be the last one you get." From that moment on, you steered clear of Bakugo.

No longer did you have long, pondering stares at him from your bedroom window, fantasizing about what he was like or how he treated his friends. Instead, you chose to focus on yourself, your studies, and your life. When graduation day came, you applied to the public high schools in the area. Considering the reaction you had faced when Bakugo declared he'd be the only one attending UA High, you decided to stay away. You had seen the way he treated Midoriya and chose not to touch that with a ten-foot pole. Why take the risk? you asked yourself

It wasn't until your parents told you that a mutual hero friend of theirs had extended a letter of recommendation for UA High’s General Studies course and applied on your behalf.

The school welcomed your application, considering that a pro hero had recommended you for your intelligence.

You told your parents it wasn’t a great idea—that it would be expensive, that you didn’t want to place that financial burden on them, that you’d rather stay closer to home and your friends. What you didn’t disclose was that you’d rather not be anywhere near Bakugo.

They dismissed your concerns, insisting you didn’t know what you were talking about. You should be excited that a hero recommended you—it would be rude to disrespect a hero like that, they said. Do you think you know better? Eventually, they bullied you into agreeing.

And so, there you were, ready to join Class 1-C.

"This won’t be so bad?" you muttered under your breath, using the palms of your hands to flatten your uniform’s skirt and straighten your tie. You adjusted the strap of your school bag over your shoulder, took a deep breath, and forced a smile on your face—whether it was genuine or not.

The first year went by fast, and you were already in the middle of your second year, but you were drowning. Overwhelmed by your parents pressure to do well in your studies, and struggling because you still hadn't made any close friends—if any at all. You began to feel more sensitive to teachers' criticism. Riddled with anxiety whenever you saw Bakugo in the hallways, even though he barely paid you any attention.

That’s when you started sneaking out of the dorms at night.

Was it because of loneliness? Boredom? The crushing weight of responsibilities and missed, late schoolwork? You didn’t know.

But you knew that, out there, you could finally breathe.

A deep inhale of fresh air. The darkness and coolness of the night surrounding you. No thoughts—just the sound of the world asleep, the occasional car passing by.

It became a habit. Slipping out for a few hours. At first, you stayed on campus, walking the grounds, avoiding security. You had a spot near the forest where you would simply lie down and watch the stars. Then, you started venturing into the town surrounding UA.

You were surprised by how different it was at night. During the day, it was just another city. But at night? The streets were alive—vivid lights, bustling crowds, music, laughter, the smell of street food wafting through the air. You felt like an outsider at UA high, but it was different when you went out at night. At first, you were nervous to explore. You stuck to familiar places close to school, opting to visit a ramen shop, and after a warm meal, your belly full, your eyelids grew heavy. You began to get ready to leave, until a young man—who looked about your age—smiled at you. You glanced down, blushing. He approached the table. "Hello," he greeted. You hesitated but nodded. "You can sit next to me if you’d like."

You talked. What felt like minutes turned into an hour. He never ordered anything, but eventually, he asked if you’d like to walk around town. You agreed. He was polite. A gentleman, you thought. Opening doors for you, holding your bag, eventually—your hand.

You felt flattered. Someone was finally paying attention to you.

Your quiet, shy demeanor often came off as rude to others, but in reality, being sheltered for so long had made you excel academically but fail socially. So when a cute boy your age showed interest, you felt a warmth in your chest.

He bought you tea. Took you to a park. The two of you sat on a bench, watching the koi fish in a pond. Then, you looked up and caught him staring at you. His face instantly flushed, sheepishly laughed and quickly looked away. You giggled. Finally, he asked, "So, what’re you doing out here so late? A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be out here on the mean streets all alone," he joked.

You laughed, explaining how you felt like you couldn’t breathe inside the dorms, how you were stressed from loneliness, overwhelmed by homework. You rambled, spilling your guts to a stranger.

But he let you.

You apologized for talking so much, but he simply shook his head.

"No need to apologize. I understand. I was going to a high school around here, but I eventually dropped out. My parents kicked me out, and now I live in an apartment down here."

You frowned. "Hmm… I’m sorry."

"I'm alright. I'd rather live on my own than have my parents nagging me every day. Better this way," he said. You agreed, somewhat relating to his situation. "Especially since I can do this all I want now." He pulled out what looked like a cigarette, lit it, and took a slow drag. "Oh shit, sorry. Did you want some?" he asked while letting out a cough. You shook your head. "Oh no, thank you. What even is it?" He smirked. "Weed." You gave him a confused look. "Devil's lettuce?" he teased. "Cannabis?" You laughed, turning red, embarrassed by your own naivety. You had heard of it, of course, but you had never seen or smelled it before.

Suddenly, you were fascinated. "What does it do?" you asked curiously. He smiled. "C'mere."

You leaned in, and so did he—until his lips pressed against yours. You kissed him back, only to feel smoke filling your lungs. You coughed, your eyes widening. Then, out of nowhere, an overwhelming urge to laugh took over you, so you did. And so did he.

That night was the beginning.

Sneaking out to meet him, to smoke, to escape—it became a habit. A few weeks passed, and then he introduced you to alcohol. Then, other substances.

You started spending nights at his apartment.

You felt guilty, knowing your parents and teachers would disapprove of this behavior. But you didn’t care.

The stress, the loneliness, the weight of expectations—it all disappeared when you were with him, when you were using. You began to love being high.

You barely made it through your second year with passing grades. You were forced to take summer classes. Eventually, the school had to intervene. A meeting was called with your parents, the principal, and the vice principal. They listed everything—your grades, your frequent absences, your improper dresscode.

"We’re so very sorry for our daughter. Please excuse her shameful behavior. We have failed as parents, but we will do our best to get her back on the right path," your parents exclaimed, bowing their heads in shame.

You sat there, numb. Unmoved. It wasn’t until after the meeting that your parents let loose, yelling at you for what felt like hours. You tried to find your passion for studying again, but the truth was, your real passion had become the feeling of being inebriated.

Eventually, you learned how to balance doing the bare minimum in school while still getting high your last year. You started sneaking your friend into the dorms, buying drugs from him, getting high in your room.

"Wow, this school is for rich kids, huh? You never told me you went to a rich kid school. Are you rich?" he asked, looking around with amusement. You laughed at his dorky demeanor. "No, I’m not. My stupid parents made me go here on a scholarship. I hate it." He chuckled, and you sighed. That night, you showed him around campus, wandering the grounds.

Eventually, you stopped by a vending machine, digging into your pocket for some change. Then, you heard footsteps. You turned quickly, covering his mouth with your hand. "Be quiet," you mouthed, bringing a finger to your lips.

His eyes widened.

You could tell—he was scared. Scared to be caught, to be punished. Arrested... again. Then, just like that, your oh-so-reliable friend chose to run. You slapped your forehead and groaned loudly. The footsteps were getting closer. Panic set in. You crouched down, pressing yourself against the vending machine side, hoping—praying—that whoever was approaching wouldn’t walk past.

You shut your eyes. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Then—

"What’re you doing crouching by a vending machine?"

Your eyes snapped open.

Bakugo.

Relief left your lungs in a sharp exhale. "Oh, it’s just you," you muttered.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Just me?"

"Nothing. Never mind."

Quickly, you got up, dusted off your knees, and tried to walk past him—only to feel a firm hand grip the sleeve of your collar.

"Who was that with you?" he demanded.

"Who? What? He was n— I mean, there was no one with me."

"Hey!" He shoved you back against the vending machine.

Your breath hitched.

"I don’t need off-campus losers sneaking in and causing problems for me. I’m on my way to the top, and I don’t have time for trash like that screwing things up. Keep your outside garbage out there."

You scoffed, shoving his hand off of you.

"Shut up. You don’t know anything. It’s dark out. You thought you saw two people? It was just me. Go get your eyes checked."

He pushed your arms to your sides and growled, "Listen, I know what I saw, and by the looks of it, you shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like that anyway."

You stayed silent. "I can smell the alcohol on your breath. Your hair reeks of smoke. And you look like you belong on the street right now," he seethed. You held your breath.

"What’s it matter to you?" you finally spat. "One less person to get in your way of becoming a hero, right?" He didn’t reply. So, you kept talking. "So what? You gonna tell someone? Go ahead. Do it. I don’t care anymore anyway." Your voice cracked. You looked down in shame, muttering the last part under your breath.

He sighed. "You used to be an honors student. Maybe I should tell someone—get you kicked out. Not like it’ll make much of a difference whether you’re here or not. You don’t talk to anyone here anyway,” he muttered the last part.

That was it. That was the last straw. You mustered up the courage and drove your knee into his crotch. His grip on you instantly loosened as he grunted in pain. Wasting no time, you grabbed your bag from the ground and bolted.

You didn’t stop running until you felt you were far enough away. Only then did you glance back—he was gone. When you finally reached your dorm, you collapsed onto your bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next few weeks were spent in a state of paranoia. Every time a teacher so much as glanced your way, your heart pounded, fearing they’d pull you aside, take you to the office, and demand to search your bag. You tried to keep a low profile. No more using in the dorms. No more using at all. But it was too difficult. After a month, it became clear—Bakugo wasn’t going to say anything. Even so, you vowed never to bring your friend onto campus again. Instead, you snuck out at night, bought what you needed, and returned immediately.

That was supposed to be the end of it. But then, you started to feel it—eyes on you. Watching. Walking from class to class. At lunch. During breaks.

It was Bakugo.

You avoided eye contact at all costs. If I don’t acknowledge him, he’ll eventually stop. But he didn’t. Instead, it led to painfully awkward encounters—bumping into each other in the hallways, turning a corner only to find him there.

You even spotted him hanging around outside the 1-C dormitories. You brushed it off. It’s just a coincidence. He must know someone here. He just happened to be there at the same time as me. Still, a voice in the back of your mind nagged at you. Why would he care about a failing, drug-using student like me?

One night, for the first time in a while, you decided to sneak out again. Creeping out of your bottom-story dormitory window, you took a quiet walk across the school grounds, heading downtown.

Just as you were about to put your headphones in, you felt one being yanked from your ear.

You jumped, heart pounding—Bakugo.

"Where d'ya think you're going? Academic students have a curfew."

You scoffed. "I could say the same for you, hero course."

You put your headphone back in and kept walking, ignoring him. But he grabbed your bag. Hard. You barely had time to react before the force yanked you backward. He caught you before you hit the ground.

"Hey, what the hell is your problem?" you snapped, shoving him off.

"You're my problem, junkie."

You scoffed, disgusted. "I'm not a junkie," you muttered under your breath. But then he grabbed your bag again, and this time, everything inside went flying onto the pavement.

Panic set in. You scrambled to pick up your things before he could see—but it was too late. His eyes scanned the scattered items: a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a pipe, multiple baggies—powders, pills, and plants.

His face went cold.

The amusement in harassing you disappeared instantly. "Fuck off already," you spat, stuffing everything back into your bag.

"I didn't realize it was this bad."

You didn’t reply. You just turned and speed-walked away.

He didn’t follow.

And you were relieved.

Months passed. Your grades tanked your 3rd year. Your addiction got worse. Skipping classes became routine—opting instead to get high at your friend’s apartment. "Alright, I'm gonna head out and re-up on that shit you like," he said, shutting the door behind him. You lay sprawled across his bed, sheets messy, clothes and empty beer cans scattered on the floor.

A cigarette dangled from your lips as you practiced blowing smoke rings. Minutes passed.

Then, the door creaked open."Hey, back already? Finally. Let's get this party started," you called out, pushing yourself up.

But as you stepped into the living room, you froze.

Standing there, bloodied and bruised, was Bakugo.

You stared.

So did he. For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, finally, you found your voice. "Whose blood is that?"

Silence.

His fists, still clenched, dripped with blood. His knuckles were torn open. He stepped closer.

"We graduate soon, y'know," he muttered. "Only a few weeks left."

Something about him felt different—more dangerous.

His presence was overwhelming. He had only grown taller, stronger over the past 2 years. Meanwhile, you felt like you had only gotten smaller.

"I'm gonna be a full-fledged hero soon." He let out a dry laugh. "My parents helped me tour condominiums. I have one now too,” he bragged.

Your heart pounded. He was dodging your question. And he was still getting closer.

Your mind raced. I just need to get past him. Run out the door. It'll be fine. "Yeah. That’s cool, Bakugo. Good for you." You forced a nod. "Listen, what are you doing her—"

"That scum you hang around with," he interrupted. "You realize he's corrupting you? And you're too much of an idiot to know any better."

Another step forward.

You moved back, knocking over a lamp. Glass shattered, startling you. "Yeah, he's just a friend I like to hang out with. I was lon—"

"You had me!" Bakugo snapped. Your breath hitched. "You could’ve talked to me."

Your brow furrowed. "What do you mean? You were in class 1-A, and I was in 1-C. I barely saw you."

"I mean as a kid." The words hit like a brick. "You barely made eye contact with me. Always thinking you were better than me. But look at you now." He sneered. "You're desperate for someone to come rescue you."

Your jaw clenched. "I don't need anyone to rescue me, Bakugo. I think you should go."

You backed up again—only to hit the wall.

Nowhere left to go. Bakugo exhaled through his nose, staring down at you. "I’m gonna help you. You’ll sober up. Gain some weight."

Your stomach twisted. "Let’s just make this easy on both of us. Come with me."

For a moment, you were silent. Then, you burst into laughter. It was loud, almost hysterical—whether it was genuine or not, you weren’t sure.

"You find this funny?"

"Yes! I do, actually!" you snapped. "I’m practically an adult! You can’t just take me. I’m not your responsibility. Now move."

You motioned for him to step aside.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he grabbed your wrist. Instinct kicked in. "Hey, get the fuck off me—!" In a blink, he flipped you over his back.

Panic surged through you. You kicked, heels slamming into his legs, struggling to break free—But his grip was like iron. And for the first time in your life… You were genuinely terrified. You pounded your fists against his back, kicked your legs, did anything to try and break free. But you were still coming down from a high—your movements sluggish, weak, useless.

Bakugo didn’t waver. His grip was iron, his hold on you unrelenting.

"Don’t worry," he kept muttering under his breath. "I’m gonna get you out of this shithole." When he pushed open the apartment stairway door, you were met with a sight that made your stomach drop.

Your friend—beaten, bruised, and bloody—lay motionless on the ground.

You screamed.

"Let go of me, you psychopath!"

He ignored you. Without hesitation, he dragged you outside and threw you into the trunk of his car. Before you could fight back, your wrists and ankles were bound tightly with zip ties. The trunk slammed shut, sealing you in darkness.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The drive felt endless. Every bump in the road made your restraints dig deeper into your skin. Your mind raced. Where was he taking you? What was he going to do?

By the time the car finally stopped and the trunk opened, the cold night air rushed over you. As soon as you saw an opening, you lunged, trying to make a break for it.

You didn’t get far. In seconds, he was on you—pinning you to the ground, his weight pressing you into the dirt.

"Calm the fuck down. I’m helping you." You thrashed, screamed for help, but no one came. His palm pressed against your wrists, keeping you restrained as he dragged you inside.

You barely had time to process before you were inside a large condominium—immaculate, modern, and painfully unfamiliar.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning from exertion and panic. "Why are you doing this?" Your voice cracked. "Why do you even care?"

He didn’t answer.

He just threw you to the floor and sliced the zip ties off your wrists with a pocket knife. The moment your hands were free, you lunged at him, fists swinging wildly.

He barely flinched. Within seconds, he had you pinned again, his hand tightening around your throat as he lifted you against the wall. His crimson eyes burned into yours, his grip just shy of suffocating.

"Lose this fucking attitude before I get pissed." Fury boiled inside you. You spit in his face. The instant it landed, you regretted it.

His jaw tensed. Without a word, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you toward a door.

Pain shot through your scalp, but you barely had time to react before you were being dragged down a flight of stairs—into the basement.

It was cold. Damp. The air was heavy with dust and mildew. Your stomach dropped. "Bakugo—" He shoved you against a metal support beam and began tying your wrists together with an extension cord to the beam. The plastic of the cord and cold metal beam bit into your skin. You thrashed, screamed louder—but your throat burned, raw from all the yelling.

No one came. No one was going to. With a final tug, he secured the knot, turned, and walked up the stairs.

The basement door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed you whole. For the first time since this nightmare began, you let yourself cry. Tears rolled down your cheeks, hot and bitter, as you tried to process what had just happened.

How had it come to this? You screamed again—until your throat ached too much to continue. You were thirsty. You were cold. You were alone. Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body, and you passed out.

When you woke, the basement door creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Bakugo.

In his hands, he carried a bucket and a towel. You scrambled back as far as your restraints would allow, pressing yourself against the cold beam. He crouched down, soaking the towel in water before wringing it out. Without a word, he reached forward, pressing it against your face.

You jerked away instantly, turning your head to avoid his touch.

But he was persistent. Every time you moved, he followed. Until, finally, he grabbed your chin—forcing you to look at him. His grip wasn’t as harsh as before, but it was firm.

And for the first time since this all began, he was silent. No threats. No taunts. Just silence. Slowly, he wiped away the sweat and dirt clinging to your skin.

Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of scissors. Your breath hitched. The cold metal grazed your arm, and for a moment, panic surged inside you. You were trembling now, eyes wide, heart hammering— But then, with a single motion, he began cutting your uniform away. Fabric fell in shreds, leaving you in just a bra and underwear. A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over you, your body shaking violently from both the cold and fear. Still, he said nothing.

He continued wiping down your arms, your stomach, your legs—his touch clinical, methodical. Your heartbeat was so loud you swore he could hear it. Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. He pulled a clean T-shirt over your body—his, oversized and heavy with the scent of burnt caramel and musk.

Without another word, he tossed the bucket aside. "You can piss and shit in here." The bucket clattered against the floor. Then, he turned to leave.

You hesitated before finally croaking out, "What time is it?" He glanced over his shoulder. And then he walked away. The door slammed shut again. You were left in the dark. Alone.

Again.

Hours passed. The high had faded, leaving you raw. Your body ached, your hands trembled. The first waves of withdrawal crept in—irritability, nausea, a gnawing anxiety that only grew with every second that passed. God, you just wanted a cigarette.

Something. Anything. But there was nothing.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook you once more, and you drifted into an uneasy sleep. When you woke again, sunlight barely crept through a small basement window in the corner. Your mind reeled.

They’ll notice I’m not in class. Someone will report me missing. They’ll find my friend—he’ll tell them what happened. They’ll come for me. They have to.

You held onto that hope, clinging to it like a lifeline. Then, the basement door opened again. Bakugo descended the stairs, carrying a plate of food and a glass of water. He crouched in front of you, set the plate down, then picked up a spoon. He scooped up a bite and motioned it toward your mouth.

You blinked. Then, you laughed. Loud and sharp. "Get that the fuck away from me, you creep. I don’t want th—" Before you could finish your sentence, a spoonful of food was shoved into your mouth.

You gagged, immediately spitting it onto the cold basement floor in defiance. Bakugo’s jaw ticked. Without a word, he scooped up another bite and forced it into your mouth, this time clamping a hand over your lips and pinching your nose shut.

"Swallow, and you get to breathe."

You held out for as long as you could, glaring at him through watery eyes. But the dizziness crept in, black dots dancing in your vision. He wasn’t bluffing. You swallowed. Air rushed into your lungs as he finally let go. "Good."

He kept going, shoving spoonful after spoonful past your lips until the bowl was empty. Your stomach twisted painfully, not used to eating this much after months of skipping meals, but he didn’t care.

Finally, he held the glass of water toward you.

You hesitated. "Drink." This time, you did. Your throat ached from screaming, raw and burning, and the cool water was a welcome relief.

Bakugo watched you the entire time, crimson eyes never wavering. For a while, he just sat there, studying you like you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. You swallowed thickly.

"You know someone's going to realize I'm missing," you finally said, voice hoarse. "They’ll come looking for me. And when they do, say goodbye to your career."

For a moment, he didn’t react. Then, he smiled. A slow, knowing smile. "Yeah? Guess we’ll have to see, huh?" Your stomach dropped. He was too confident. Too calm. You looked away, your earlier bravado suddenly cracking.

"What?" His voice was smug. "Where’d that smart attitude go now?"

You clenched your fists, biting your lip to keep from trembling. The cold of the basement seeped into your bones, the only sound was the distant hum of life continuing without you. You weren’t sure what scared you more—the situation you were in, or the sinking realization that maybe… just maybe… no one was coming to save you.

[badpersonboogie]

...IMAGINE THIS WITH TWINS JAYVIK RAAAAAA

during that winter trip, viktor came with and when the food got low... ximena holds the knife and viktor takes it. he'll take care of jayce, he promised. he puts the knife to their mother, takes her apart piece by piece under jayce's horrified eyes. viktor cooks the meat, takes jayce's jaw with a tight grip and makes him eat.

jayce shakes his head, cries and wants to throw up but viktor doesn't let him. and they are changed irrevocably. jayce finds the knife, flesh and love and being fed. viktor finds the knife, flesh and guilt and the revulsion. jayce keeps eating, his love for their mom grown reverent but his love for viktor spoiling and turning into such burning disgust (at least that what he thinks) and viktor turns away from eating, becomes a vegetarian so he won't eat meat ever again

they go back to piltover and everyone can see that their bond isn't what it once was. people ses viktor's last name and they think that he's a talis cousin. only caitlyn and her family know that viktor is jayce's brother. and when jayce and viktor are old enough, viktor moves out. he disappears into the night (jayce tells himself that he's happy to be rid of him)

and he goes on like that, the half of jayce's heart and soul missing. he kills a few times, the curiosity amd want for flesh had grown too much so he had to slake it. one day, jayce sees someone interesting. a man, dark-haired, light-eyed and pale. skinny wrists and knobby knees too. jayce looks at the man and all he sees is viktot, all he feels is disgust. until he sees the man with his lover. the man-viktor? viktor!-is looking at his lover with such adoration, with such love. and it ruins jayce

he kills them both, viktor and his lover. viktor with such gentleness and reverence and viktor's lover with such brutality (because aren't they just so lucky to have viktor! viktor stayed because they asked. they were forgiven and they managed to show viktor such love. they made viktor smile and made him happy) jayce rips them to pieces, his heart loud in his ears. and when he's finished, he cuts out pieces. he'll feed them to viktor. because while jayce hates viktor's lover, their meat is better (and that makes jayce hate them more. to love viktor so much that they're the one that can fill his belly)

their body, their meat, is filled with love and that's what viktor deserves. jayce cuts out pieces and feeds them to viktor. viktor cries, refuses to eat so jayce has to hold their jaw and make them eat. oh viktor, don't cry, i'm making things right. and after, there's a fire in jayce's heart and it feels him with such energy

viktor, oh viktor, someone else's because they can keep him, and his lovers who were forgiven, who viktor gave his heart to and wasn't refused. reverence and such brutality (the honeymoon killer is what he gets called by. jayce finds that he likes it)

frankly its hot when jayce talis is worse than viktor. that man is insane. make HIM jd. MAKE HIM HANNIBAL. like yeah he's polite and smiles real pretty sure but like... jayce expelled his former professor from the council that he helped establish at the mere idea that viktor's chance at life might be threatened.

HE PUT THE HEXCORE INTO VIKTOR. REVIVED HIM AGAINST HIS WILL WITH THE SCIENCE PROJECT HE PROMISED TO DESTROY. WILLINGLY ALLOWED HIM TO CONTINUE HIS EUGENICS CAMP IN SEVERAL TIMELINES. HELLO???? HE'S INSANE!!!!

that man has no morals no ethics no nothing when it comes to viktor. its him and his evil scary bug princess against literally anything that may stand in the way of that. viktor couldn't escape jayce if he tried. i'm begging on my hands and knees PLEASEEE

[misstycloud]

A loser's qualities~

Oral(f.reader receiving), facesitting, mean reader

--------

You stared at yourself in the mirror and recalled all the times people would call you beautiful; they were right, you were absolutely gorgeous. It's not bragging if it is true. Your hair was silky smooth and shiny, your lips were lovely and kissable , your style was to die for.

You really had everything in life.

It was soon time for you to meet up with your friends. You had all decided to grab dinner and then watch the latest hit film currently being shown in theatres. It would be a fantastic evening. You applied your make up skilfully, making sure not a single eyelash was out of place. Nothing would be able to stop your perfection.

As you combed through your hair, a choked sound interrupted your concentration. The gagging sent vibrations through your entire body. Ah, it seemed your toy was running a little low on oxygen. Stifling a sigh, you looked down to see the top of a sweaty forehead, hair was sticking to it like glue.

"mhm....!." your boyfriend gagged. His hands gripped your thighs harder, his nails digging into your flesh.

Really, all that talk about wanting to be a good boyfriend and he couldn't even handle ten minutes? Idiot. Your irritation grew as you lifted yourself just enough for the young man under you not to be choked by your pussy. He took greedy gasps of air and coughed a couple times. His entire face was covered in your slick and his lips were almost swollen of the work they'd been forced to do- which was virtually nothing as you hadn't even cum once. You knew he didn't have much going for him but to be this useless was absurd.

You stared at your boyfriend with disappointment.

He noticed your annoyed look and nearly cried. The last thing he ever wanted was to disappoint you, especially when the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. The two of your were supposed to stay in for the night and be comfortable- you had promised him this since months back- but suddenly you got a call from your friends, asking if you wanted to go out. When you told him of your plans he reminded you of your promise and in retaliation you emphasised on your need for fun and excitement; there was no way you would miss the fun for some boring movie he wanted to watch. He already knew begging would be pointless so he came up with another plan to make you stay. In a desperate attempt to keep you he wanted to show how fun he could be.

Unfortunately for him, you were less than pleased with his performance.

Your boyfriend panicked at the thought of underperforming. This wasn't just a matter of wether you were ditching to hang out with your friends, this was now a matter of wether you would find him valuable as a partner at all. He wasn't much of a looker, he had no friends and stayed in his corner all the time. The only advantage he had was his intellect. Too bad you didn't find too much value in that either.

He believed if he could please you as a man then your attitude toward him would shift, but it appeared he couldn't even do that, despite all the materials and videos he'd consumed in his spare time(he wanted to be prepared).

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He fucked up. "Please, I can do it! I-I just need more practice..." he cried.

You rolled your eyes at his typical cry-baby behaviour. Did this man ever shut up? "I don't think practice is ever gonna help you. You're really hopeless, y'know."

He whimpered, "N-no, I said I can do it. Sit down, sit on my face!" he said as he tried to forcibly pull you down to rest onto his face. When you didn't budge he instead leaned up to place hasty kisses on your thighs. He licked and sucked on your skin, enough to leave marks. Despite him sucking-ass at eating you out, you had to admit, seeing him so pathetically glide his tongue over your thighs and beg for your attention sent heat to your core.

You supposed you always had a bit of a thing for pitiful men.

You smirked down at him. "Really? Are you sure you can handle it? It didn't seem like it before."

"Yes, yes I can! I promise I'll make you feel good if you just let me."

You pouted, faking uncertainty. "I don't know, baby. You didn't make me feel good at all before. I'm not convinced you can do it." You loved the way he shivered and let out a mix between a whimper and a moan at your nickname. Oh he just loved being your baby. "You haven't made me cum at all. Don't you want me to cum?"

"Of course I do, (Y/n)! I want nothing more than to pleasure you enough to..-to do that!" He blushed furiously under you.

Aw, he was still a little shy in the language.

"I'll make it happen, I swear." your boyfriends eyes dazed over for a second, blush still present. "I'm simply not used to it, that's all."

"You're not used to make girls cum on your face?" you teased.

Of course he wasn't. Before you he hadn't as much as held hands with someone of the opposite sex. He completely fit the die-alone virgin stereotype.

For the first time in the entire evening he had the courage to look you in the eye. With force determination he said, "I will learn for you (Y/n). If you teach me I'll be sure to satisfy you. I'm a very fast learner."

That was true. If he wasn't then he wouldn't be able to have the highest score out of everyone. His big brain was his only redemption.

"So, tell me, how do you want it?"

——-

(It’s the first time I’ve tried writing anything explicit, so hope it’s alright.)

[purinfelix]

doctor, doctor, help me - park jongseong ₊˚⊹

summary: after a strange encounter with a shadowy figure one night, you're roped into an even stranger routine of being a handsome fighter's personal nurse - but after almost two months of it, you've grown tired, even if he hasn't ──── street fighter jay x nursing student reader || sfw, angst, tension || w/c; 2.6k (holy moly this is the longest fic I've written in a while)

a/n: ok this is like the third time I've written a fic using this like ' nursing student patches up' trope BUT I CAN'T HELP IT i literally eat it up every single time and when i was watching the bts of the no doubt mv the idea literally came to me right there so i hope y'all enjoy !! <333

"You can't be serious."

The scold falls from your lips less as a response and more of an unconscious reaction to the man standing in front of you. You don't know what's worse, the several bruises littering his face, the split lip that's dribbling blood down his chin - or the fact that this isn't even the worst state you've seen him in.

It's not like you have time to decide anyway, because as soon as he shoots you that look - the guilty yet almost pleading half-smile, you're too weak to refuse.

"Get in," you huff, opening your apartment door wider for him to slip in quickly, and you glance both ways in the hallway to make sure no one sees him before shutting it.

"You said the other night would be the last time Jay," you say, watching as he stumbles unsteadily towards your couch where he falls with a tired sigh.

"Well, that's what I thought babe," he laughs and you feel something twist inside you at the petname, "but it's not like this business is very reliable, is it?"

"Well," you sigh, mocking his tone, "that's why I thought you said you'd be finding another job, one that doesn't involve you coming to me half-beaten to death every other night."

Your words are harsh, especially given the amount of pain you're sure he's in right now but after almost two months of this same routine, you're tired of it. Plus, you know what he needs to hear at times like this.

It had started one night when you went out late to take out the trash, only to be startled by a shadowy figure lurking in the bushes. After he assured you he wasn't a thief, and giving you time to catch your breath he was about to dash off - but the first thing you noticed was the dark red trickling down the side of his cheek and the messy way his dark hair fell over his thick brows. The second thing you noticed was the look in his eyes, rough and a little cold, but the longer you looked the softer it became until it was something vulnerable, almost bordering on fear.

You'd be heartless not to take him in.

That's what you told yourself as you tried your best to convince him to follow you back up to your apartment - knowing full well the irony and complete stupidity of letting a beat-up man wander into your home. He obliged and soon you were setting him down and fetching the first aid kit you had gotten in a recent practical lesson. In the warm light of your living room, you were able to get a better look at him - his bruised knuckles, dark baggy clothing but most of all, the amused, almost cocky smirk spreading across his lips as he watched you tend to him.

You were firm though, treating this purely as your professional duty as a nursing student as you patched up his scuffs - though you weren't going to let this opportunity go without at least getting some answers. After some questioning, and dodging his attempts to pry into your personal life, you found out his name - Jay - and what exactly he had been doing lurking in the bushes near your complex. Though 'working in an underground boxing ring' was an answer that definitely needed more explanation than you had anticipated.

Admittedly, the entire situation was a little entertaining to you, at least for the first couple of times - after all, it wasn't every day a handsome boxer stumbled onto your doorstep and let you carefully tend to his wounds. But maybe he had overestimated your generosity because he was soon back a week later, the week after that and soon it became an almost nightly occurrence - though you taught yourself to never count on his appearances.

Your patience was running thin, but your ability to continually see Jay in so much pain was running even thinner, even if this came out more as a harsh irritation than the careful worry you intended it to be.

"There's a thousand jobs that don't involve risking your personal safety, you know," you sigh in exasperation, pulling up a chair beside the couch he's sprawled upon. In his dark grungey clothes and messed up look, he sticks out starkly from your fluffy pillows and stuffed animals in an almost endearing way.

"Well most of those jobs don't pay half as well as this does," he laughs, pulling himself up so you can look at his face and as he does you try not to think too much about how he's getting far too used to this routine. "And the others, well, they won't even consider hiring a drop-out like me."

You grab him by the jaw, yanking him closer which earns a soft chuckle from him even as you force yourself to look stern. "Have you even tried? I mean, money isn't everything, you know," you mumble, "I know the convenience store around the corner from here is hiring, you could look there."

"Right because I'm just the kind of guy for stocking shelves and heating up ramen for people," he scoffs coolly, eyes watching as you prepare cotton balls of antiseptic.

You let out a frustrated exhale, beginning your work on his injuries in concentrated silence. He only sits there, surprisingly obedient, as you dab his open cuts, not even wincing in pain. After all, this isn't the first time you've patched him up and you're pretty sure it won't be the last, so this strange routine the two of you have fallen into brings an even stranger sense of comfort. Despite that, and all your efforts at professionalism, it's difficult not to get just a little bit flustered whenever you have to touch his face, or when he makes snide flirty comments that you're sure he doesn't mean.

As if summoned by your thoughts, he pipes up again. "But then again, that would mean I'd be closer to you, princess," his voice barely above a teasing whisper.

You narrow your eyes at him, "If it means I get to see you in that cute little apron and not like this then sure." He lets out an amused chuckle, seemingly enjoying you playing into his conversation for once. You lean back to grab more gauze from your kit but the sound of his voice catches you off guard.

"Have you got a boyfriend?"

Despite knowing each other for a couple of months now, you and Jay actually know very little about each other - having made a silent agreement since that first night not to ask questions that were too personal. Anything that strayed beyond names, jobs and how the weather had been was off-limits. This had mostly been your way of avoiding getting too attached to him, or whatever sort of relationship you two had, since you were sure that would only end badly - and you had been glad that he respected your wishes.

Or at least he had.

"Wha-" you stutter, whipping your head back around to look at him "Why are you suddenly asking me that?"

"Well, I was just thinking, if you do, he mustn't be that happy about you getting so close with some random guy you barely know, right?" He's leaning back against the couch, eyes wandering your apartment seemingly for any sign of male presence.

"Unless," he says again, now leaning back towards you, so close you can feel his breath against your cheek as he whispers, "You haven't told him about us?" You hate how low and teasing his tone is, and whatever it is he's implying, but you hate the way you can feel your cheeks flushing under his gaze even more.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't have a boyfriend," you huff, "and it's not like there's an us for me to tell anyone about anyways unless I'm complaining about the cocky jerk that keeps bothering me every week."

"Aah, I'm surprised," he laughs to himself, brushing off your jab at him, "figured a cute thing like yourself would've been snatched up already, but I mean, I think I like being your little secret anyways, hm?"

"Just shut up and stay still."

"Yes doc," he says, amused at your reaction but doing as you say and soon the two of you fall into silence once more - you busy with placing bandaids over his face, neck and shoulders, and him watching you carefully. But the silence grows thick and heavy, and soon it's too much for even you to take.

"So," you start up, a little awkwardly, "how about you, have you got a girlfriend?"

You avoid his eye as you ask the question, already knowing exactly the kind of irritating expression he's donning.

"Oh, what happened to keeping out of each other's personal lives?" he scoffs.

"I'm just trying to make conversation, Jay," you sigh firmly.

"Well, not that it's any of your business," you bite your bottom lip as he mocks your previous response, "but no, I don't. Well, I used to, actually, she dumped me less than a week before I met you."

"Really?" you can't control the surprised tone that falls from your lips, but if you're being honest, with his looks, you're shocked he doesn't have a girlfriend - or at least several girls chasing after him.

"Yeah, well it's not easy to date a guy that comes home looking like this every other night," he laughs coolly but even as he does you can tell there's an undertone of hurt, "plus, she always wanted to go out at night and that was when I worked."

You nod slowly, "right." Your response is curt, partially because you're busy peeling a bandaid but mostly because you're not really sure of what else to say.

The conversation falls to a halt and silently you motion for him to come a little closer so that you can have a look at his split lip. It's pretty gnarly, even though you've managed to wipe up most of the blood that was coming out of it. Carefully, you run your thumb over the open wound as you inspect it but this earns a quiet hiss of pain from your patient and you pull back.

"Sorry," you mumble quickly, eyes scanning his face.

"It's alright angel," he sighs, nodding for you to continue.

You do as he says, working quickly to place a small bandaid over the lip, trying not to think too much about how you can feel his warm breaths on your gentle fingers. It doesn't help that his gaze doesn't leave you once, and every time your eyes flicker up they meet his causing your cheeks to grow embarrassingly hot.

But with that, you've finished patching up all of his injuries and can lean back with a relieved sigh as you brush your hands against each other. He sits back with a smile, watching as you pack up your kit and return it to the kitchen drawer you got it from.

"Hey, how was that exam you had?"

You pause - brows furrowing. You had mentioned that almost two weeks ago, and he remembered it?

"Oh, it went well, I'm surprised you remembered that."

"Why wouldn't I?" he says, and you'd think he was teasing you again until you poke your head around the corner and catch his earnest expression. "You told me, so I remembered."

"Well, yeah," you scoff, "but you were like half asleep and also in intense pain, I was just trying to talk to distract you from it."

He nods, his lip forming a thin line as he hangs his head with a soft laugh to himself, "Right, of course."

You feel a strange twist in your stomach, suddenly aware that maybe, for once, he wasn't trying to pry into your life for the sake of annoying you, but maybe trying to get to know you a little better. Still, the opportunity has left and now you continue your routine like always.

"So, you're all good?" you say, trailing back into the living room, "need any painkillers?" He shakes his head silently, slender fingers fiddling with the material on his pants as he bounces his knee almost impatiently.

Usually, this is the part where he leaves. Once you've served your purpose, done your job of fixing him up and exchanged small talk there's no reason for him to stick around anyway - it's not like the two of you are friends, or even know each other that well for that matter. At first, this fact seemed natural but the longer this weird relationship stretches on for, the more you find yourself dreading each of his departures. You're not sure why, since you scold him every time he reappears, but a small part of you feels a certain relief seeing him at your doorstep, even if he is struggling to hold himself up - because at least you get to see him again, even if just for one night.

"I should go, right?" he hums right on cue, looking up at you with a conflicted look - almost as if he's begging you to tell him otherwise.

"Well," you begin, chewing your bottom lip in thought, taking his silent plea to heart, "your injuries are pretty bad, so if you want you can rest here for a little longer." You rub the back of your neck in an attempt to make your request sound a little more casual than it actually is, but you should've known he'd catch on too fast.

"Are you asking me to stay the night?" He asks, the side of his mouth quirked up in an amused, but also touched, smirk.

"Don't make me change my mind, Jay," your sternness returns and he only holds his hands up in surrender as he nods with a soft laugh.

"Got it." He looks around, "is it alright if I just crash here then?"

You nod, "If you need anything just call out, alright? My room's just over there." You watch as he makes himself comfortable, stretching out across your couch which he barely fits on given his height. As he does you finally get a glimpse of the fatigue washing over him as he lays his head down on one of your fluffy pillows.

"Goodnight Jay," you call as you start making your way to your room, flicking off the living room light as you do.

"Goodnight doc," he replies in a lighthearted tone, and you pause at your doorway to get one last glance at him. He's already drifting off when you do, and despite your better judgement you can't help but smile to yourself at how peaceful he looks - a stark contrast to his usually cocky demeanour.

Maybe in another life, you two didn't meet the way you did. Maybe he had a job that didn't involve him putting his life on the line just to make a living, or you could help in a way other than just cleaning up his collateral damage, in a way that really mattered. Maybe you two could have real conversations about your days, without having to skip over the personal details. Maybe, just maybe, you might get to see him during the daytime, face illuminated by something other than your living room lamp and uninjured, for once.

But exhaustion quickly hits you too, forcing your thoughts to a stop. Settling into your own bed you couldn't help but pause to wonder if letting him stay the night was crossing the imaginary line you'd drawn since the first night, bridging the gap you'd sworn to keep between you and Jay. But as you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, the knowledge of him safe in the next room over enough to calm your mind, you find yourself strangely okay with that possibility.

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE

My son Braden brought in a couple of beers - I'd been cutting back and was on a fitness kick, but this felt like a special occasion. But as he set them down on the side table he knelt down in front of the couch, his thick muscle filling out his black T-shirt and jeans.

I had a good idea what was going to happen. "Um, Brade... this is supposed to be YOUR homecoming," I said.

My son looked up at me. He had a killer smile, and some gorgeous looks he'd partly inherited from his mother, fair haired, ruddy complected, cute dimples. The square jaw, roman nose, and brown eyes were mine, though.

"It is, Dad," he said. God, somehow his voice had gotten deeper during his deployment. "I've been thinking about this for months." His hands reached forward and undid my belt then the button of my khakis.

"You sure, buddy?" I asked. We'd moved past the furtive, guilty phase, but this was incest, and I was always looking for a way to put the breaks on things with Braden.

"Sure, I'm sure, Dad." His fingers skill fully peeled down my briefs and pulled out my growing dong. I topped out at 7 and a half inches, and very thick. Braden had almost a carbon copy of my dick, just a smidge shorter, only I'd left his foreskin on. But he wasn't concerned about pulling out his own meat. Instead, he examined my heft and pulled it toward him. "Sit back and let me take care of you."

And like that my hunky Marine son started to give me a slow, loving blowjob.

***

I've made mistakes in life, God knows, but Braden wasn't one of them. Even if he was the result an unplanned pregnancy - wouldn't you know... my swimmers did the job the first time I got laid at 16. I did the right thing in marrying Susan, and we were a good team, at first. Me working full time even as I got my econ degree in college. And me somehow fitting in my CFA studying in between work and child care.

Susan and I made it work, until it didn't. There was no love and no sex, just a partnership in raising our kid. Braden was 8 when we divorced. The only bad part was seeing my son go through that, and visiting with him only on custody weekends and holidays.

He rebelled in his teen years. Brade was good at sports, or more accurate to say that's all he cared about. He refused to take school seriously, and the more I got on his case the more he actively resisted doing homework. Susan, god bless her, tried everything from punishment to incentives, but Braden was a solid C kid who failed sophomore English and had to do summer school.

I was pissed as hell and tried to give him a tough love lecture. Tell him he was going to fuck up his future if he didn't take school seriously. That was the first and last time Braden talked back to me. Calling me a dumb prick and a controlling asshole who wanted to be a parent only when I was in the mood to be. I was enraged, but I held it in.

After that, it was like something shifted. Brade never became a star student, but he apologized to me. He opened up about his emotions, and we talked through them. I assured him I'd be better about being there for him. I could be a workaholic and that was my way of dealing with divorce and realizing I was mostly gay. I finally told Braden that his dad was a homosexual and may at some point date another man. No time soon. I wasn't sure what I expected but my surly jock son clasped in me in a tight hug. "Me, too, Dad," he said. When he pulled back he was tearing up some. "I haven't told anyone," he said. "Don't have the guts."

That was an emotional connection with my son that I wasn't expecting.

I still had a demanding job but I made an effort to see all of Brade's football games and to catch some of his practices too. And then, in Spring, catching wrestling meets.

I'd been frustrated that my son was growing into a man very much the opposite of me. Then I came to love him for who he was. Custody visits stopped feeling like an obligation for him, and something he looked forward to.

Our first kiss just happened. Maybe there was a little sexual tension there, but Braden and I were hanging out and eye contact grew and a spark happened between us. I leaned in just a little. Braden leaned in the rest of the way. He was nervous, and so was I. But our lust took over. The forbidden aspect made us insanely horned for each other.

We made out and groped each other and stripped our clothes off. Right there in the living room, Braden made a beeline for my hard cock.

"God, I've dreamed of this, Dad," he whispered as he wrapped his fingers around the base and pulled it to his lips. "So much."

"Buddy...!" I urged in a tone that let him know he didn't have to do this. But that I wanted it.

It felt great. That was an understatement. It was the mind fuck of incest and the fantasy of seeing my jock son service me - all come to life. I wasn't Brade's first cock, I could tell, but he was still green. Innocent in his way.

I warned him I was about to cum. He sucked harder and moaned. I watched my hunky son take my load and swallow every drop.

I could taste my cum in our kiss when he finally pulled off and I gripped his neck to pull him in toward me.

"Let me do you, Sport," I urged. I was very much in the receiving is better than giving category when it came to sex, and it turns out there was a good supply of men on Grindr who were happy with that arrangement. But Brade deserved some recip head from his Dad.

That dick was a challenge, and I blushed at how much easier Braden had sucked my big cock than I was doing him. But it didn't matter. I loved the taste of him and the knowledge I had my own son's dick in my mouth. Pushing into my throat with each bob.

Brade went wild. He came buckets. I did my best.

As I finally pulled off and licked around his foreskin the best I could without overstimulating him, I heard him say simply and softly. "Thank you, Dad."

***

I took Braden's cherry the night before he shipped out to Basic Training. He didn't ask me to, and I didn't ask him if he wanted it. I just started rimming him, licking and feasting on his nearly hairless hole before I reached for the lube. As I locked eyes on him and slid one finger in and out, then two, then three, I knew Brade was ready. I wanted him so bad just then, but more than that I wanted to connect with him in the most intimate way before he went away.

Lord knows I'd lectured him about using protection. Even if Braden was the light of my life, I didn't want him facing an early pregnancy like I did as a teen. So I sheathed up my thick piece of dad meat before I slowly entered him.

I could tell it stung, maybe a lot, but Brade was a trooper. Holding on to me. Feeling up the chest muscle he loved. Focusing on the act he'd dreamed of. Pretty soon, he was feeling it, the pleasure of bottoming. It's something I'd tried only a couple of times before I realized I enjoyed topping a lot more. But Braden was getting very into it. His insides opened for me and his whole body seemed to receive the fuck, his thick athletic legs pulled back, his angelic face pleading with me as much as his deepening jock voice. "Fuck me, Dad!" he said aloud into private space of the master bedroom.

My hips began pumping for real. I'd never been so hard or so much in a sexual frenzy. I wanted this first time to last, but I knew it couldn't, not with how worked up I was and how quickly Braden was approaching orgasm. His 7-incher throbbed and jutted off his crunched abs, leaking like crazy, then quivering like his voice.

"Dad!" he hissed, his eyes widening in disbelief. I was gonna get my Brade across the finish line to a hands-free cum.

I powered the last strokes with that goal.

My son's grip on my body grew tighter, an eagle talon's grip, and his voice climbed to a high whimper.

It was a glorious sight watching that teen cock shoot unaided, all over his body. I could smell the fresh scent of sperm and see the light of the lamp make the white splotches stand out more on his still largely smooth body.

I'm the kind of guy who can't cum with a condom on. But I came inside one while I fucked my son. The sensation and physical thrill was incredible, but mostly it was the idea that Braden was fully a man now.

He loved watching me nut, and I could see a big smile sweep across his face, and a laugh came out of him. He was riding some major sex endorphins, too.

"Way to go, Dad!" he enthusiasm.

"Buddy..." I started. "Goddamn..." I reached down and held on to the rubber as I extracted my dick from my son's ass. No longer vice tight I thought lewdly as I watched my condom-sheathed head clear the breach, a heavy reservoir of cum at the end. Fucking Brade had inspired one of my healthier cum loads.

My son's eyes were on that bulbous tip. "Let me drink that, at least," he urged.

Jesus.

I nodded and scooted up in the bed, waving my still turgid dick in front of him. "Serve yourself, Sport."

His fingers peeled at the rubber and gingerly tugged it off. He brought it to his lips and up ended, taking the semen into his mouth like a shooter. Braden moaned excitedly as he swirled my cum in his mouth before swallowing it. That alone was enough to keep me rock hard.

Wide eyed, my son then discarded the spent condom and then turned back to take me into his mouth.

"You're too good to me, Sport," I hissed.

***

I told myself it was sex. Fooling around of the naughtiest kind. My own goddamn kid. The only thing that kept me from feeling completely guilty is that Braden wanted sex even more than I did. Anytime he came home we found ways to get it on nonstop. Long slow sessions at night. Him giving me road head. Us sneaking into a bathroom stall for a quickie. I got a big box of Trojans and learned to carry a couple on me at all times.

We had our first date night. And the next homecoming our first argument. We were still the odd couple, and Braden resented when I asked him what he wanted to do with his life after the Marines.

"You're just mad I didn't clear enlisting with you first," he said bitterly.

"Come on, Brade," he said. But he was right.

I was in the doghouse the next couple of nights, sleeping on the couch. Part of me resented the fact I was exiled from my bedroom, but the fact I considered it mine instead of ours - after all the ways Braden had given his body to me, after all the pleasure we'd had together - was part of the problem.

I apologized. A real apology, not a Bill half-assed apology. I told him I was in love with him.

My big tough Marine son melted at that. He got off of the kitchen stool and met me in a bear hug. "God, Dad. I love you so much. For real." My son didn't show emotion a lot but he was better at it than me. I hugged back.

Then we kissed. A real lover's kiss. A boyfriend's kiss. Soft, sensual. I didn't want that kiss to end, but it did.

"I'm gonna miss you bad, tough guy," I said, running my fingers along his square jaw.

"I'll miss you, too, Dad," Braden said. "A lot." His hand reached down to cup my crotch. I hardened up under his touch.

He gave a soft laugh. "You must think I'm some kind of nympho."

"I think you're perfect, son." I ran my fingers along his T-shirt, eager to feel the hard flesh beneath. "And I'm grateful for every way you make me happy."

Brade smiled but just took in the words. He looked down at my sweats, which were filling out big time with dad meat, getting harder by the second. "I'd so love to suck you off right now, Dad."

"Why don't you?" I asked, my voice croaking. I was getting very turned on now.

Braden's brown eyes looked up into mine. "Cause it's been three goddamn days since you're fucked me, that's why."

We kissed, harder this time, and began stripping one another. I wanted this to be romantic, a slow screw in the master king-sized bed I'd been exiled from. Braden wanted to be bent over the kitchen table and taken like a whore with just a little cooking oil for lube.

We did it Brade's way.

It was hot, crazy hot, and we'd gotten carried away. In my mind I knew we were fucking without protection. And given how much in heat my Marine son was, there was a good chance he was ovulating. But it felt so good being inside him raw. Intimate with my boy like this. My big hunky, muscled boy, taking my dick and asking for more. Calling me Dad as I railed him.

My Dad brain won out. I pulled out just before I came. I only had to give two tugs and I was firing out one of my biggest loads, all over his muscled back. Brade tried to wiggle his way back onto my but I held him apart. My son was definitely in full fertile heat.

I pulled him up and kissed his neck as he went for his cum, my own semen cementing his back to my chest as I growled how fucking hot incest was. How I wanted to fuck my son every single day. I got a little rough in my fantasy talk. Not only did Braden not mind, the scenario I was describing got him to shoot big. I loved feeling him orgasm as I held his body. Not seeing his face but knowing the intensity of his cum from the way his muscle tensed and shook.

We came down from the sex high and laughed at how carried away we'd gotten. I patted his chest and nuzzled my face against him. "All right young man," I said in a voice that was playful even as I meant every word. "You're going on the pill."

***

It was super hard to see him go off again. He had another year on his enlistment contract. I stayed off Grindr and all the apps. No hookups, no dates. Partly it was my desire to be faithful and monogamous with my son. None could compare to my Branden anyway.

My son made a show of pulling out his birth control pills when he was home next, setting him on the counter.

"I've been taking them, Dad," he said proudly.

I laughed, stepping up to him. "You didn't think I'd trust you?"

He shook his head in a way that maybe I didn't trust him enough. "You know I'm crazy about you, sir, but you got some control issues."

"Just wait till you're a father," I said.

Brade got a serious look on his face. "You won't let me be one." His hand was now reaching down to cup my crotch. I'd learned to go commando whenever Braden was home, with just some shorts or sweats that could come off easily. So my son was now feeling a very hard piece of dad dick through some flimsy gym shorts.

My heart pounded. It had never occurred to me that Braden would want to get pregnant, especially that he'd want to be knocked up with MY kid.

"You think about that, buddy?" I asked, looking into his hunky-adorable face and his soulful brown eyes. God, I was so crushed out on my own son.

"All the fuckin' time, Dad," he replied. His fingers now slipped beneath the elastic band of my shorts to make contact with my hardon. The touch of his fingers was electric.

He looked down briefly then back up at me. "I know you're gonna lecture me about responsibility and being ready for parenthood."

"Probably, yeah," I replied. This idea was so crazy, and I needed to put the breaks on it. But my dick sure liked it. And Braden could tell.

"You like the idea, though," he said. He was now frigging my dick as our eyes locked.

"I almost didn't pull out before..." I said with a croak in my voice, getting majorly turned on. "When we barebacked."

Our kiss was intense. And I heard Brade undoing his jeans and could tell he was shucking them down as he moaned into my mouth. He was crazy turned on when he pulled back, breathing heavy. "I wish you hadn't," he said with a half apology, then turned around. Between high school sports and Marine conditioning and plenty of leg day time at the gym, Braden had an incredible ass. Round, meaty, mostly smooth except for a dusting of light brown hair that got thicker in the crack. I'm not a religious man, but some god had given me a gift.

Instantly, my hand was on his buns, feeling up that warm muscle.

"I lubed up, Dad," I heard his masculine voice say.

I ran my finger into his crevice. Even before I got to his pucker, I felt the telltale viscous stickiness. It would be our first time with petroleum jelly. Turns out it wouldn't be the last.

I scooted up. I craved to have more foreplay time with Brade, but this wasn't the time. I lined up my prick into the tacky gel and rubbed it around his hole with my cock head.

"You took your pill today?" I asked. I wanted confirmation before entering him bare. But I also wanted to hold onto that idea of knocking him up.

"Yessir," he hissed. He was backing up some, trying to get me into him. He wanted this.

I reached around and held his body. Even through the T-shirt Braden's chest was hard and warm.

"And if you hadn't... would you stop me from being inside you, like this?" God, I was getting carried away by the fantasy. Particularly as I pushed in, about a half inch of raw dad cock.

"No, sir," Braden replied. Then "Fuck yes!" as I breached him all the way. A homecoming fuck that felt more intense than the ones before. Almost more intense than taking his cherry.

It was awkward fucking standing up. I was a couple inches taller than Brade. But bent my knees a little, and Brade leaned over to brace himself on the wall as I pounded him.

"Love ya, Sport..." I said as I fucked faster and deeper. Maybe it was in my head, but Braden's ass had never felt so good.

"Love you, too, Dad. So fucking much." His voice was needy now.

The words were what I needed to hear as I pounded us both to a heavy climax.

It took me a minute of the afterglow to realize Brade was crying.

"What is, buddy?" I asked with concerned. Jesus, if I'd gone too hard on the boy, I wouldn't forgive myself.

I could hear a laugh come through. "Just happy is all.. fuck! Sorry..."

I pulled him back against me tighter. My dick had slipped out and it all felt very lewd now that the act was done with. It only added to the emotional roller coaster we were both on. "Nothing to be sorry about. Let it out, Sport.... Guess it's pretty intense dating your old man," I said empathetically.

Braden nodded. "Pretty much," he said. "It's fucked up, right?"

I thought for a second. I mean, objectively it was. And yet... "Inside this house, inside these walls, it's not fucked up, Brade. It's what's meant to be, OK?"

He turned and looked at me with an emotional openness that melted me. I wasn't good at this stuff. Relationship stuff, emotional stuff. But I knew I could assure my son in this moment.

We kissed. Softly, like boyfriends.

Then we cleaned up and talked, for hours.

***

Braden was done with the active duty part of his contract and was living with me. Full time, day in, day out. It took some getting used to. I maybe had a loner thing going on, and it was hard to shift from the Dad role to the boyfriend role. And the honeymoon period of homecoming sex quickly wore off.

It came to a head one evening. I had to work late, later than normal, even. Brade had a dinner ready for me and plated it for us.

I was still preoccupied with work, though I gave a quick thanks before digging in.

Braden picked at his food but was sulking. Finally, he set down his fork. "I guess workaholic Dad is back now," he grumbled.

I felt both chastised and pissed off. "Forgive me for making a living, Son."

"It's all you think about."

"That's not true," I said sternly.

Braden shook his head and went back to eating. Maybe he was right, but he was acting like a sullen teen again, goddamnit. And here I was the father who didn't know how quite to handle that.

I did make a point of thanking him again for the dinner and of doing the dishes. "Go kick back, Son," I urged in my best contrite voice. Braden didn't even reply but just got up and left the room. I guess it was silent treatment time.

I'd dried the last of the dished when Brade came in.

"Sorry, Dad," he said.

I turned toward him. "Oh buddy... it's me who should be sorry. You do all this work, and I come home late."

I set down the dish towel and stepped toward him. He was stepping up to me, too. Our mouths met, hungry. This was gonna be me and Brade's first time having make up sex.

"Bedroom?" I asked.

"Yeah, Dad."

We were like kids jumping into a lake, rapidly stripping off our clothes and hopping on to the bed we now shared. His body felt amazing. I mean it always did but I craved the contact now. My hunky 23 year old stud in bed with me, his hardon battling mine as I started to roll him over.

Only he stopped me. "Let me ride you, Dad. Please."

"Pretty please?" I teased.

"Pretty please, sir. I wanna ride your cock."

This was a fun change of pace, my lying back and having Braden lube up my thick cock before straddling me. The penetration was quick, too quick for my son, and he had to rise up before trying again. The second time was a charm and I watched my hunky stud sink down on my bone.

I pumped up into him, but position equally allowed Brade to use his hips to work up and down my dick. It was magnificent, like a slow steady milking motion.

"Fuck, Son... so good, buddy."

"Yeah?" he asked with a smile. "I want it to be so good for you, Dad."

"You have no idea, Sport."

That increased his determination to ride me up and down. "I took my pill today... but if I didn't..." he said with a lust-filled voice.

I grunted. The idea was hitting me hard. We'd indulged some of this talk, but it was coming back even harder than before. "I'd feel a fertile ass riding me," I answered.

Braden had to let go of his cock to keep from coming. "God, Dad... this turns you on too."

"Damn straight it does, Sport. Fucking you... knocking you up..."

Even without stroking, Brade was getting close to cumming. "It's my biggest fantasy, Dad. Having an incest baby with you."

That tripped my trigger before I expected. I was fucking up into my son, but it was the mental shock as much as the physical sensation making me shoot a heavy series of cum shots into my son's bowels.

I could sense Brade was imagining it fertilizing him. His voice quivered and his body flushed pink. And I watched his dick shoot out its thick cum as he bounced up and down hard onto my still spurting prick.

"FUCK!" he gasped.

I patted his thigh. This was intense sex, for sure, and I was starting to return to normal. "Yeah," I said.

Braden eased off and slid down next to me, meeting me in a hot kiss.

After we made out he lay his head on my chest. Like that night I took his cherry. Before he shipped off. Life has a way of coming full circle.

His voice now seemed tentative. "Dad... you know I wouldn't do that, right? Stop taking the pills without your permission?"

I patted his back muscle. "I know, buddy. It's just talk... something to get us going."

"Yeah," he said. "Only if you ever decided it was right..." he said softly.

"I know, buddy. We'll talk about it, OK?"

"OK."

***

Like moths to a flame, we couldn't avoid getting deeper into the pregnancy talk. It spiced up our time in the bedroom, then became our fixation during sex. No longer occasional, it became every single time that me and Brade talked about having kids. Me impregnating him, us imagining his body being transformed by our kid.

I occasionally opened the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom to check that Braden was still taking his pills. I felt bad that I didn't 100 percent trust him.

We tried to mix it up. Braden gave me more blow jobs. He became an expert at edging me, and that felt new and exciting.

My son and I found our rhythm as a couple. Braden got used to my long work hours, and I did my best to make weekends about us. Brade would the first to point out that I wasn't good at romance, but Sundays were Brade Day, when he'd choose what we'd do. I was a big saver when it came to money, but I learned to relax a little. For Brade Day, I'd buy tickets for to catch a baseball game or go see the nearby city football team's home game.

Sometimes for Brade Day, he'd choose to do something I wanted, which was usually playing golf. I'd object, but he insisted that relationships weren't one-way things.

That stuck with me. I'd run through it all in my head why Braden and I couldn't have kids, why we shouldn't have kids. Incest was one thing, but having a child together was another. And the practical side of my personality was persistent. I knew raising a kid would cost money. I had it, but I wasn't sure what job or career Braden had in mind for his future. If we'd be on the same page in our parenting.

OK, my idle thoughts were no longer idle.

It was fun surprising my son. It was Sunday morning, Brade Day, and it took him a while to notice. Even after his cup of coffee he was still groggy.

"Um, Dad," he asked as he walked back into the kitchen. "Have you seen my pills?"

I nodded, with my best poker face. "Yeah, Sport. I threw them in the trash."

He was processing what I was saying. "You're joking."

I shook my head. "Nope. You can feel free to fish them out, if you like."

"Oh fuck," he hissed.

This was like make up sex on steroids. Me and Braden embracing in a bear hug and then a hot kiss. Then fucking on the kitchen floor.

I'd have felt bad if we'd conceived our son like that, but even lost in my fantasy I knew it would be a couple of weeks until Braden was fertile.

But it was decided now: we were gonna have a kid together.

[scorpio1205]

Bambi's Most Liked/Viewed Tik Toks

Summary: A tiktok compilation of Bambi's most viewed tik toks

Warnings: swearing, kissing, flirting, pda, tik tok comments, Matt looking completely in love

1st Tik Tok-

Bambi put the phone down taking a few steps back as American Wedding by frank ocean began to play through her phone speaker. She ran her fingers through her hair as Matt walked up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist pulling her against him completely as she began to lip sync to the song. 'Hijabs and polygamist husbands. Those poor un-American girls. After school she ran to me. Jumped in my 5.0. This is the home of the brave, land of the free. But your parents still didn't know' She grinned as Matt kissed her cheek, turning to face him, pulling him down and kissing him lovingly, as the tik tok ended.

Caption: Date Night with the most perfect man in the world @ mattsturniolo

2nd Tik Tok-

Maneater by Nelly Furtado began 'You wish you never ever met her at all (what you sayin', girl?)' She walked into frame in her Halloween costume, twirling a bit. 'You wish you never ever met her at all (break), yeah. She's a maneater, a maneater (I been around the world, I ain't never meet a girl like this) She's a maneater, a maneater (I been around the world, I ain't never meet a girl like this) She's a maneater, a maneater (I been around the world, I ain't never meet a girl like this) Like this, like this, like this, like this, like this' She walked over to Matt who was in his costume scrunching up her nose and grabbing his jaw.

Caption: Did I pull this off? Kinda?

3rd Tik Tok-

Bambi put her phone down smiling at the camera the triplets sitting at the table behind her. "Okay, so I keep getting comments asking about my tattoos and piercings... So I thought I'd make a video showing them off cause why not?" She smiled sheepishly at the camera pulling off her hoodie leaving her in a white tub top, which seemed to catch Matt's attention immediately as he looked up watching her

She noticed this and giggled but didn't acknowledge him "So first I have this tarot card tattoo with my zodiac sign on it and it's on my forearm" She showed the camera. "Matt took me to get it for my birthday." She smiled at Matt who waved before pulling her hair to the side and turning around "Next I have this moon phase tattoo along my spine, it's read and black and hurt like a bitch" She turned back showing off her tatted shoulder. "And lastly this one is veins, butterflies and fairies... that's the last one for right now. Matt and I are planning on getting a matching one for our 4th anniversary..."

"Yeah we are"

She giggled before gasping "Oh, wait. I have Matt's initials on my side, but that's under my shirt and normally hidden by my bra. Now onto piercings." She pointed to her stomach "Belly button ring, septum ring that I hide most of the time, and I have my nipple's pierced.....But yeah that's it......Bye."

No Caption

4th Tik tok-

Bambi was laying on Matt's bed with Mr. Wrinkleton on her chest and wearing one of Matt's polo's "Sooooo.....Nick, Matt, and Chris went to Film and i'm here obviously... And I'm watching How to Train your dragon and I came to the conclusion that my taste in men has not changed... Like at all. So growing up I had the biggest crush on hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon, and I feel like I'm dating him in real life. Like he wasn't the tallest, he had like messy brown hair, he was sarcastic, like really smart, he had an attitude, he was very dorky, and just all around cute...... Did I just describe my boyfriend or a fictional character? Like that's literally Matt, or am I going crazy.... That's it" She moved the camera out of her face before quickly moving it back "And middle part Matt was 1000% Victor from Corpse Bride"

Caption: He's also kinda Stiles from Teen Wolf

5th Tik Tok-

18 By Anarbor started playing as Bambi walked back grabbing Matt's hand pulling him down her nose brushing his as she lip synced "So if you wanna piss off your parents. Date me to scare them. Show them you're all grown up. If long hair and tattoos are what attract you. Baby then you're in luck. And I know it's just a phase. You're not in love with me-" But before she could continue Matt grabbed her by the back of her thighs lifting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist with a grin on his face.

Her hands immediately moved to the sides of his face, a new ring on display (that would catch a lot of attention by fans) "You wanna piss off your parents, baby. Piss off your parents. That's alright with me"

Caption: I was trying to be cute and he stole my thunder

6th and Final Tik Tok

Slim Pickens By Sabrina Carpenter began to play "Guess I'll end this life alone. I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me. All the douchebags in my phone. Play 'em like a slot machine, if they're winnin', I'm just losing" Bambi walked stood next to Matt as the song continued he picked her up effortlessly and placed her on his shoulder. "A boy who's jacked and kind" Both of them looked surprised and really happy.

Caption: I have the one I love and he still doesn't know the difference between there, their and they're.....

Comments:

User322: Okay but that 5th one just came out and I still NEED to know if that's an engagement ring

User777: Bambi having Matt's initials tattoo'd on her is wild

User111: Parents

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

@sturnmeovr @big-poppa23 @colorthecosmos444 @sturns-mermaid @mattsstarlet @iammattswife @carringtonsgirl

[valentinebugzee]

Sonic Boom! Agent Stone AU (pt.1)

(This is kind of an outline thing for the fic I plan on writing in the future btw!!)

Chapter 1 posted!

•On one random Tuesday, a coffee shop named "The Mean Bean" appeared in the middle of town, with no construction and no posters for the place, as if it fell from the sky.

•It probably did since it's sonic boom and all.

•Sonic and friends had different opinions on the place, but all of them went in anyway.

•Sonic thought he wasn't really a coffee guy but it wouldn't hurt to try something new.

•Amy admired how beautiful and modern the place looked, unlike the rest of the establishments in their formerly unnamed village.

•Tails questioned how they had managed to construct a cafe that quickly without anyone noticing.

•Knuckles wondered why this bean shop smelled like coffee.

•Sticks, however...had her theories.

•Upon laying her eyes on the establishment, she started coming up with 50 theories per second; her friends dismissed her to get the plot going.

•Sticks's suspicions didn't subside one bit once entered the shop and made eye contact with a grinning barista with the name tag "Stone"

•What really got Sticks paranoid is how nice and friendly the barista was, and how he was the only person working there.

•Stone served them and said their orders were "on the house"

•Sticks refused to order anything, claiming it was a trap and the food had microchips in it to read the villager's thoughts and know the village's most crucial secrets.

•Right in the middle of Stick's yap session, Eggman initiated a very well-timed attack.

•Cut to Shoujo vision-eyed Stone laying his eyes for the very first time on the village's one and only villain (or the only one that matters)

•He quickly snapped out of it, adjusted his clothes, and cleared his throat, then walked out of his coffee shop to greet the villain.

•He had politely asked Eggman to take the fight somewhere further away from his coffee shop and Eggman surprisingly obliged (not without blowing up in Stone's face ofc) (Stone didn't look like he minded) (He actually looked even more love-struck) (weirdo)

•The fight ended, and the gang went back to the coffee shop, where Stone inquired about the evil doctor who almost blew up his shop.

•That was Stick's last straw; she started screaming about how Stone was a government agent who would doom the entire village if they didn't stop him.

•She ran out screaming when her friends still didn't believe her.

•Girl, get better friends.

•She figured that if she was going to foil the evil government agent's plans she needed someone else helping her, another pair of eyes to look out for the village if the government agent decided that she was an obstacle in his way and kidnaps her to a work in a secret underground trees-that-are- actually-spy-cameras-factory.

•And that's when she found Shadow in a cave that he definitely doesn't live in.

•He reluctantly agreed to help her because he was also suspicious about that guy, not that he cared about the village but he didn't like being oblivious about evil happening on his turf.

•He didn't believe stick's microchipped food theory, but Stone being a government agent didn't seem too far off for him...

•They both had their separate attempts at getting answers out of Stone.

•First was Sticks, she set up a trap.

•ofc Stone fell for it because how else would the story progress.

•She interrogated him as he was upside down hanging from a tree outside her home.

•He denied all claims and feigned innocence, claiming he was just a barista that came from far far away to simply serve people happiness in the form of coffee.

•She opted for more efficient interrogation techniques, she turned around and entered her home to..grab a feather and tickle him idfk

•Once she returned outside she saw the net was burnt to crisp and the human was nowhere to be found.

•Now she's sure she's not paranoid.

•She reported her findings to Shadow.

•Now it was Shadow's turn, seeing how Stone definitely had some special equipment/weapons on him the idea of there being microchips in the food didn't seem too uncanny.

•Shadow showed up to The Mean Bean, Sticks intently staring at him from behind the glass doors (creeping everyone in the shop out)

•Shadow thought he shouldn't interrogate him as that would end up as fruitful as Stick's efforts.

•Instead he chose to just behave as a normal customer, he was the ultimate life form after all, if there was something odd about the food then he'd know (I'm pulling this shit outta my ass okay)

•Just like the badger had described him "Very sweet with an evil aura", and something about trees.

•Stone felt somewhat nervous/awkward towards the hedgehog, so far all his customers were either stupid or friendly excluding the badger that kidnapped him because she wasn't a customer at all)

•The Hedgehog chose a cat muffin, glaring at stone the entire time.

•That was the best goddamn muffin he has ever had in his life.

•He slammed the money on the counter and returned back to a very distraught badger.

•"ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE THE RADIATIONS GETTING TO YOUR BRAIN?! ARE YOU BRAINWASHED?! DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR TRAGIC BACKSTORY?! DID THE MUFFIN DO SOMETHING TO YOU?!"

"Raspberry jam..."

"huh?"

[11queensupreme11]

Okay so I’m currently writing for my next chapter when it suddenly came to me! I totally forgot to ask and idk if you’ve answered this before.

But how would the yan kids react to watching their mom fall in love with Anthonius?

Like that has to be weird, right?! Watching ur mom fall in love with someone who isn’t ur dad or stepfathers?

Especially the girls since they’re kept away from boys and aren’t allowed to have boyfriends!

yaaaaay, can't wait for the new chapter! 🥰

as for ur question, i'll only answer eudorios and axiandros' reactions in more detail cuz i only have their personalities down so far 😅 everyone else will get a more general reaction, sorry 😢

eudorios is like a more unhinged version of his mommy so it won't kick in right away that his mommy's falling in love with another guy (he's just a lil dense guys, sorry, he inherited it from percy 🥺). ngl, he's probably gonna be the last kid to figure it out 😭😭

(just like how percy was the last person to realize anthonius liked her and that she actually liked him back 💀)

but when it finally clicks, he'll go:

eudorios: Oh! :)

and then he internally flips his shit 😭😭😭 he'll continue to watch it all happen with a ":)" on his face while crying, screaming, and shitting tears on the inside. the more he watches, the more he realizes that his TRUE enemy wasn't his father, or brothers, or half-siblings, or his mother's other husbands. no, it's ANTHONIUS. because he recognizes that soft look in her eyes, the genuinely happy grin on her face every time she's with anthonius. it's a look that's supposed to be reserved only for HIM, not some ugly mortal boy! and he's seething at the thought that ANTHONIUS was the first person to ever bring out that smile from her, and not him 💀💀💀

after watching, he'd probably rush to his room to scream into his pillow and everything like a dramatic teenage girl 😭😭😭😭 he'd sulk a bit and then rush out to go find his mother to demand more love from her 💀

for axiandros, he's gonna mentally pull up his shit list, place eudorios from #1 to #2, and put anthonius at the very top 💀💀💀💀💀💀 he's now genuinely concerned for his mother's taste in men because seriously???? did she just have a thing for losers???? first eudorios, and now a literal mortal boy???????

he cannot, for the life of him, understand WHY his mother would ever fall for anthonius. he acts like he knows better, he lets his emotions get in the way, he's rude and ill-mannered, he's a son of athena, he's pitifully WEAK, the list goes on and on.... 💀💀💀

then in comes the jealousy 💀💀💀💀💀 while eudorios is just like their mommy (but more crazy), axiandros is just like his daddy. his jealousy is icy-cold and seething, a sort of icy fury that everyone in the room can immediately sense. expect a lot of biting words and insults spoken in a ruthlessly cold tone, just like poseidon would. like father, like son after all!

as for the other sons, the incesty ones are, ofc, jealous af. but regardless of whether they're freaks or not, most are genuinely in disbelief that their mother had actually fallen in love with a mortal boy before, but there's also a lightbulb moment that goes in their head where they all think "ohhhhhh, so THAT'S why some of us have names related to wisdom!!!! 🤯"

they gotta admit tho, their mom had BALLS OF STEEL to name a child from each of her husbands after anthonius 😂😂

anyway, the more they watch her life, the more they finally start to understand why mother's so kind and loving towards humans. they knew that she was once a mortal (which is still hard for them to wrap their head around, cuz they always saw her as the perfect goddess and mortals are just so... not), but actually SEEING her live her life as one is a whole different thing entirely!

as for the daughters, many of them are wide-eyed and silently side-eying each other cuz ooooooh the DRAMA 😂😂😂😂 but aside from that, they're very curious. most of these girls are either super sheltered (percades and sécy kids), or they're just too used to godly culture (which is all the kids). would their mother marry this boy?? was he mother's first husband? why is she so close to someone that she's not married to? why does she let him touch her, get close to her, why are they ALWAYS together?? isn't that improper????

lmao, so while some of the sons are seething with jealousy, the daughters are getting a culture shock basically 😂

[queenbrucewayne]

One More Thing

The last two weeks were definitely the busiest you had ever been. One more meeting, one more conference call, don’t forget another spread sheet that had to be filled out.

It was a constant back and forth of once something was finished, another thing had to be started.

Your feet were feeling the aftermath, your shoulders and back were in even more tense pain then normal, and the appetite you had was almost nonexistent.

Alfred tried to help by packing lunches and making you breakfast, but you had been in such a rush to leave in the morning you only had time for coffee and an energy bar. As far as the lunches, you probably would be able to take one or two bites before something else came up and it would go to waste.

It definitely wasn’t healthy, but who really had time to be on a consistent schedule when things were busy.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned back in your office chair, closing your eyes to try and block the light from the headache you could feel coming on.

Today was the last busy day you would be expecting. After having a meeting with your clients and seeing success from these past two weeks of grind, you could finally take a break.

The clock read 2AM, would you even have the energy for a shower? You definitely needed it.

Alfred had probably left your dinner in the fridge and Bruce was likely out and about watching over Gotham.

Bruce…

You hadn’t really seen much of him lately. Between all the late nights and early mornings, he was ether already gone by the time you got home, and sleeping once you had to leave.

A few comments had been made here and there, he asked you multiple times if you were okay with work. Of course the busy you were dealing with didn’t seem like something you wanted to add on to him, especially considering he managed two lives at once. It was better to just leave it with a Im fine or a just a little busy, no big deal.

The last thing you wanted was to make him worry about you, knowing full well he had more important things to focus on.

Grabbing your stuff, you walked towards the elevator to the car garage. Seems like the only people left was the two night security guards.

Once you made it home you walked inside and instantly slipped off your heels. Stretching out your arms, you were surprised to find that the front entrance was dark and it didn't look like anyone was home.

Normally Alfred would great you at the door, no matter how late you got home. You told him multiple times it wasn't necessary to wait up for you, but he would just brush it off and say he would love nothing more than to make sure you got home safe.

You started to walk to the kitchen, the microwave light being your only guide. Opening the fridge you grabbed a quick snack to try and push away the hunger you were feeling. Being way too tired to cook, you grabbed a cheese stick and headed upstairs.

It was times like this you wish you didn't have to suffer going up the big staircase, almost tempting you to just pass out on the couch. The hallway was dark, but what instantly caught your attention was the light coming from your bedroom.

Since it was too early for Bruce to be back, you thought maybe Alfred was still awake. Reaching the cracked door, you peaked inside shocked at the scene in front of you.

The bedroom was lit with candles scattered around the bedroom, a beautiful bouquet of flowers was laid on top the end of the bed. The room itself smelt of a sweet lavender and a hint of eucalyptus, it was a completely different environment then the one you have been spending so much time in the last two weeks.

You walked further inside. Noticing now your favorite pjs were set neatly on your bedside, a bottle of wine and two empty glasses along side it. The bathroom light was on and the sound of water running could be heard.

This seemed a bit too romantic to be Alfred...

Right on cue, the water stopped running and the bathroom door opened wider, emerging Bruce...

He greeted you with a smile, drying off his hands with one of the hand towels. "Hey, I didn't hear you come in."

You didn't know how to react, he was definitely the last person you expected to see. "Uhh. Hi. You’re home?"

"Yeah, I went out for a bit earlier, Nightwing is keeping watch tonight." He was in a set of black sweatpants and wasn't wearing a shirt, his hair was a bit damp which probably meant he just showered.

"Dick is in town?" You spoke up finally.

Walking over to the bedside, he opened the bottle of wine and started to fill the two glasses. "Yeah, he came to visit Barbara and decided to stay for a couple days." Walking towards you he handed one of the glasses to you. Taking a sip himself, he walked to the dresser to look for a clean shirt. "Alfred will be downstairs tonight watching over him, thought I take the time to shower, I have a bath ready for you, and theres even a small cheese tray if you were hungry... Maybe we could watch a movie or-"

He stopped himself when he glanced up to look at you from the mirror in front of him. You hadn't moved from where you were, the glass of wine still in hand, and you had tears falling down your face. He sighed deeply, setting the wine glass down, and walking over to you.

Taking the wine glass from your hand, he set it aside. Slowly wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest.

“Y/n…”

No response.

“Y/n… Please say something. What’s wrong?”

You shook you head, wrapping your own arms around his body. He didn’t say anything else, just stroked your hair gently and waited for you to be ready to speak first.

Once you calmed down, you pulled yourself away and wiped your face. “I’m sorry.”

He took ahold of one of your hands and brought it to his face, kissing the inside of your wrist he looked back to you. “What’s going on?”

Smiling up at him, you started to rub his cheek with your thumb. “Nothing, I’m not sad, it’s happy tears… I guess I’m just tired from the past couple of weeks.”

He looked at you worried now, his furrowed brows almost made you laugh. “Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I give you another thing to crowd your mind, it's just work, not important." You looked behind him to the bedroom. "This is amazing."

"Y/n." His tone was serious, making you look back to him. "It is important, especially if this is how it's affecting you."

"Bruce-"

"No, i'm your husband, its my job to take care of you, to worry about you, to make sure that whatever is bothering you doesn't result to this..."

"There is nothing you could've done, work was just needing me more than normal, you were busy with your own stuff, it happens." You shrugged casually, pulling back from him you took the glass of wine he set down and took a sip. Glancing back to him, you notice his expression hadn't change. His arms were crossed and he had his deep thinking face on. "What?"

"Do you think you bother me?"

You hesitated, trying to come up with something to reassure him. Before you could come up with anything he continued.

"You do." He stated. "You truly think I'm bothered by you."

"Bruce, it's just work..."

He nodded. "Yes, your work." Leaning against the door frame, his face held a sadder look now. "Have I made you feel lonely?"

Your eyes widened, taken back by the question. "What? No!"

"Y/n-"

"No!" You raised your voice this time. "I don't want you thinking this is your fault... it's not." You said softer. "This has nothing to do with you, I cried because I was happy, not because I was lonely..."

He stared a you for a moment, then sighing in relief he smiled and walking over to you. Cupping your face gently, he leaned down and kissed you softly. This was what you needed most of all.

It started out gentle, but the more he continued the more desperate his kisses seemed to get. He pulled back and went straight to your neck, and then back up to your lips, roaming his hands now to around your body.

You whined a bit when he pulled back, making him laugh. "Common, your bath water is gonna get cold, we can continue this later."

"Way to get a girl's hopes up.." You mumbled.

"Hey." He spoke up. "I want you to come to me before it gets to this point, I don't want you feeling like this... you don't deserve it. You've helped me with my hard weeks, I wanna do the same... please let me. Just because my mind is filled with Batman and Wayne Enterprises, doesn't mean I don't have the room for my wife."

You hugged him, burying your head into his chest. "Okay, I promise, next time. Which hopefully wont be for awhile... Bruce?"

"Hm?"

"I love you, and thank you. This is what I needed more then anything."

"Even more than the wine?" He teased.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing the wine glass you walked towards the bathroom. "Hurry up and help me get undressed, my bathwater is getting cold."

Bruce smiled. "Yes ma’am."

@christianbalefanatic

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the fog. l Joel Miller

Summary: something that happened made the memories come back

Warnings: angst, mentioning violence and death, two dead, blood and gore, lots of fear, Ellie and Tommy, vomiting, Reader is broken, allusions to sexual abuse and torture

A/N: maybe I shouldn't have added this part so quickly, but I had it in my head and I literally had a few free hours. I don't know when I'll be so lucky again. there are definitely a lot of mistakes here. please, be understanding. I meant well.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

short stories from life. [masterlist]

When you left Jackson with Sam and Anthony the weather had definitely turned bad. After a few days of beautiful sunshine and blue skies, dark clouds brought rain and everything became grey and gloomy. 

Joel tried to hide his anxiety as you watched with such enthusiasm as you packed your backpack, reassuring him once again that you had packed everything. Even the knife he had once given you was safely in your pocket. If it weren't for that damned hand, he would have gone instead of you, but he didn't want to burden you with his worries.

After the last expedition for supplies, after you snapped, you needed him more than ever. But now you had to get back on your feet again, on your own. He knew it had nothing to do with him, but he was still worried.

"See you in a few days," you said, kissing him fondly goodbye.

"Don't be late."

You smiled, squeezed his good hand, and set off with Sam and Anthony.

Three or four days. That's how long, according to Tommy's estimate, this expedition should take. You were supposed to get to a nearby town, it was abandoned and none of you had been there for some time. After everything that could be used had been taken away from there many times, there wasn't much to be found. However, for safety's sake, the area should be checked.

Joel couldn't sit in an empty house. He tried to keep himself occupied, he went to the stables a few times, but his thoughts began to wander into dangerous areas. So he spent time with Tommy and the others, looked at the map, wondered where you were and if everything was okay.

Ellie spent time with her friends, but whenever she saw Joel, or when they met at the house, she asked about you. He didn't have to answer her much. The important thing was that she didn't hear any bad news.

On the third day, it started to rain. Small drops, the ones you hated so much. Joel smiled, because he could already see your gloomy face when you came back soaked. However, the day passed and you were gone.

Four days. Tommy said it could be four days. He kept repeating it to himself, but when he met his brother, he saw the same anxiety in his eyes.

That night, Joel didn't sleep a wink. Along with the usual guard, he sat on the wall and stared at the horizon as if you were going to appear there at any moment. This was the second time you were late. But now you went there because he couldn't, so he felt an additional sense of guilt.

"They'll come back, they always come back." Tommy didn't sound too confident when he said it.

"If something happened..."

Tommy looked at his brother. He could only guess how hard it was for him, the fear of loss was so damn strong in him, and this situation didn't help.

The sixth day. From early morning in Jackson, people began preparing to go in search of you. A group of about ten men were ready to set off. Joel was furious when Tommy refused to let him go.

"You're in a sling! You can't fucking ride." and then he watched in horror as his brother freed his arm and, although wincing in pain, mounted the horse.

He couldn't fight him. He wouldn't stand a chance.

The road wasn't easy. The ground was damp and muddy, it was cold and unpleasant. The group didn't say much, they focused more on observation, to find some trace as soon as possible or to spot someone approaching them.

Joel tried not to focus on the unpleasant feeling that accompanied horseback riding. He guessed that the bone might have healed, but it was still very sensitive. However, his brain was focused only on you, the rest was not important.

With difficulty, he was convinced to stop. Night was approaching and there was no point in everyone risking it. If it weren't for Tommy and the others, Joel would probably have gone on alone. However, he stayed and as soon as the sun appeared on the horizon, he was already on his feet and driving everyone to continue their journey.

The fog engulfed the area, and the cold seeped into his jacket. Silence, only the sounds of horses and the forest. But, unexpectedly, something changed.

Tommy's horse twitched, startled by something, and right after that Joel felt his own move strangely too. Something must have been approaching them and the animals must have sensed it. He reached for his weapon and tried to peer into the nearby trees and undergrowth, to see some movement, maybe a figure or an animal.

Joel's heart stopped a second later.

You looked terrifying. He noticed immediately that something was wrong. He jumped off his horse and before Tommy could stop him, he was already running towards you. You tried to run too, as soon as you realized who you had met, but you were too tired. Your knees were buckling under you and tears were welling up in your eyes, and you couldn't hold them back anymore. When Joel grabbed you in his arms, you sank down onto the grass.

"Riders... There were riders." You whispered in a trembling voice.

More people surrounded you, but you were only staring into those brown eyes, the ones that were home and a symbol of safety.

"Are you hurt, baby?" he gasped, looking at you in horror.

Your clothes were covered in blood, as were your face and hands. He noticed the cut on your jacket, but the wound on your arm was no longer bleeding. Neither was your lip.

You shook your head. "Sam... Anthony... They're dead."

"How many are there? Were they in the city?" Tommy asked. You didn't even flinch. Your lips twisted, however, and after a moment you burst into tears.

"Sam and Anthony... I couldn't do anything..."

Familiar hands grabbed your face, pushing back your wet and dirty hair. A terrifying sob escaped your throat.

"Did they do something to you? Tell me!" Joel asked, maybe a little too nervously, but everything inside him was boiling.

You were too distraught, alternately sobbing and repeating the names of your companions, repeating that they were dead, talking about the Riders, and crying again.

Your fingers dug into the ground as hysteria slowly consumed you. Like you had been strong for too long and only now, with Joel before you, had all the dams given way. Your voice was incoherent, jumbled sobs and the same repeated words blending together.

Finally, Joel turned your face towards him, shook you as if he hoped it would bring you to your senses. For a moment he saw it in your eyes - total terror and brokenness.

"Tell me everything, please."

Somehow the words spilled from your lips.

Joel didn't remember how you got back to Jackson, or how you ended up at your house. Ellie's face showed complete fear when she saw you, but she quickly followed Joel's instructions.

She was the one who drew you a bath, and put your comfortable clothes on the counter by the sink. Without a word, she left the bedroom and closed the door behind her. 

Just like you had done a few days earlier, it was Joel who helped you take off your clothes. Layer by layer, all dirty and wet. You jumped like a startled animal when a sound like something heavy falling to the floor came from downstairs.

"It's nothing." Joel quickly tried to calm you down. "Ellie wants to make you some tea. She's just a little clumsy..."

You nodded, but the fear didn't leave your eyes. Finally, when he took off your underwear, he helped you get into the tub and you immersed yourself in the hot water. The scent of lavender reached your nostrils and the warmth began to envelop you, slowly permeating the layers of your frozen skin.

Seeing you like this always broke his heart. Yes, you were only human and you didn't have to be strong all the time. However, you carried wounds that clearly couldn't heal. Joel knew there was nothing he could do, but he would give anything to be able to take this burden off your shoulders, to take it upon himself so that it would be easier for you.

Carefully, with a wet towel, he washed your face and hands. He did it slowly, as if he could wash away the bad memories from you. It was only after several long minutes that you spoke. Almost a whisper, your voice was dead and alien. Joel listened, although he knew he might regret it later.

"I was part of a group that got out of one of the cities controlled by FEDRA. A few outcasts, a few who wanted to find their loved ones, a few who wanted to have adventures. And me. Maybe ten people, something like that. It was unwise, I know, but then..." you took a deep breath and wrapped your arms around your knees, letting Joel carefully clean the wound on your shoulder. "It was fine for a long time. A few broke away, went their own way. That's fine. I stayed, I didn't have a plan, I didn't have anyone close enough to look for or follow him. One guy was a Firefly, as was his girlfriend. I thought... Why not? I was good at what I did, but not good enough..."

You froze. Joel didn't say a word. He guessed what he might hear next.

"We met them when we entered some city, I don't even know what the sign at the entrance said. First a few infected, quick work. And then... It was a larger and well-organized group, and we were like ducks in a shooting gallery. I killed one or two of them and hid. I waited until nightfall, and they... I heard everything." Nails dug into your flesh, but you didn't react to it. Once you started, you couldn't finish talking. "I heard everything. What they did to those girls, how they slowly finished off the guys. It was a long night... I didn't dare go out in the morning. I waited again until nightfall. I was paralyzed. Only then did I get out of the city and hide in the forest. I don't remember how I got to Jackson, I sat there for a while, but I couldn't be around people. So I started hanging around the area again... Closer and further away. After a while, I came across you." Your eyes found him. Joel noticed how much sadness there was in them and how much it cost you to tell him all of this.

"Baby..." he said quietly "I'm so sorry you went through this..."

"On that patrol... I couldn't do anything. I didn't hide like I did then, but I couldn't do much and..." your breathing quickened, your eyes glazed over again and Joel grabbed your face trying to calm you down.

"No one blames you for this. Fuck! Baby, I should have been there, not you. It was me..."

"You could be dead already!" you interrupted him sharply "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I don't want pity. I survived it and I would do it again if I had to. I did terrible things, but for you, for Ellie, for Tommy and Maria, I would do it all over again."

Joel understood that. He understood you really well and he felt that it was you who gave him strength at that moment, and not him giving it to you.

"Hi. I brought some soup. Maria made more, she thought you probably have other things on your mind right now."

Joel nodded and let Tommy in. It was dark. He'd only managed to convince you to go to bed an hour ago, and he was trying to find a place to sit and think.

Tommy put two jars of soup on the counter and leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. "How is she?"

"Fine, if I may say so." Joel sighed, sitting down at the table. "Ellie is there. She's in bed with her so she can sleep."

Tommy nodded. "She was in terrible shape. God! Two days without sleep, food or water, in this condition..." Joel rubbed his forehead with his hand and closed his eyes for a moment, he still had your terrified face in front of him. "Did they? You know..."

He shook his head. "They didn't make it. She ran away when she had the chance."

“The scars and wounds will heal, but here…” Tommy touched his temple with a finger, and Joel nodded to show he understood. “A group will go tomorrow to see what happened there. She said there might have been ten of them, we’ll check it out.”

He noticed his brother straighten up, dark eyes looking at him carefully. "I'm going with them."

"Are you crazy!" Tommy snorted. "With your shoulder and when she's like this? Besides, she'd cut my balls off if she found out I let you go."

Joel stood up abruptly, slamming his hand on the table, anger written all over his face. "I have to find them. For what they did to her... Fuck! You didn't see her!"

The younger brother watched him carefully, but also with fear. He knew that in anger his brother could do terrible things, and although he wanted to get his hands on those men, he didn't want to risk him too. Finally he shook his head.

"No way. You should stay here. She needs you, more than ever."

"I can help you!" Joel hissed, already furious. "I can't wait here while they fucking torture her."

"No! I don't agree." Tommy continued. "This is a crazy idea."

"I don't fucking care! You don't know how I feel! I should be there, not her. I could have lost her too, do you understand?! I can't wait and do nothing!"

"But you will! Because she should be your priority right now, not revenge." He noticed that Joel's eyes were getting glassy, ​​he tried to hide it clumsily by looking away. "She's already saved my life, I'm grateful for that. So I can't let you risk yours, she wouldn't want that."

"You don't know what she wants." Joel snorted.

"She definitely wants you and Ellie to be safe. Listen..." he approached him and put his hand on his shoulder "We'll find those people. But you have to take care of her now and..."

The noise upstairs drew their attention. Quick footsteps, a slam of a door, and then another. Ellie's cry echoed downstairs.

"Joel! Quick!"

He and Tommy were upstairs in a flash, then burst into the bedroom. They saw a terrified Ellie, who pointed to the bathroom, and Joel guessed he'd find you there. When he entered, he saw you huddled by the toilet, spasms of retching racking your body, your shirt wet and stuck to your back.

"Baby..." he groaned, kneeling next to you and brushing your hair away.

You were unable to answer. Only Ellie, who slipped in behind them, spoke quietly.

"I don't know what happened. I must have fallen asleep... Suddenly she woke up screaming, jumped out of bed and... Joel, is she okay?" 

He didn't know what to answer. He saw Tommy's face, who was just as scared as he was.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again

[tinytalkingtina]

Who could not be happy?

Written for the February @steddiemicrofic prompt, using the word "rose" and 367 words

Rating G | Ao3 link

Tags: language of flowers, Eddie has a crush on Steve, love confessions, first kiss

See under the cut for some notes on flower language, and thank you steddiecameraroll-graphics for the lovely divider!

Eddie stared at the book clutched tightly in his hands. There was a rose carefully tucked away among its pages. The color had faded a bit, but a pink hue still delicately tinted the petals. And that wasn’t all. Fragments of other flowers were also dried and wrapped in protective layers of wax paper: camellia, columbine, gardenia. Under the last page, a green carnation peeked out.

Steve came back into the room juggling a few more empty boxes.

“This should be the final load, if we add anything else the Beemer won't make it to Chicago without tipping over. Hope you don't mind us driving up without the rearview mirror.”

Steve grinned, but Eddie didn’t respond. The grin faltered a little.

“You okay man? Not getting cold feet now.” Wordlessly, Eddie held out the book.

“Oh, thanks, this one needs to be packed flat.” A tiny smile crept over Steve's face. “You know how people used to decorate their crush's locker for Valentine's Day? My senior year there was this whole bouquet tucked in waiting for me. Dunno who put it there, Nance and I'd broken up months ago. They're nice though, right? I mean you never see green flowers. Wish I could've thanked them, whoever it was.”

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in Eddie's chest. Before he could swallow it back down, his brain blurted out:

“I had perfect attendance in Spanish that year.”

Steve's eyes squinted in confusion.

“Huh?”

“My second-go around at senior year, and I was still stuck in Hawkins, then freaking King Steve sits behind me in Spanish 3,” Eddie barreled on. “You never used to pay attention to anyone who wasn't in your inner circle, but in that class you'd mutter to yourself about how cool my doodles looked, and told folks to knock it off when they called me trailer trash. So I found a book on flower meanings and did something incredibly stupid.” He didn’t dare look at Steve as he finished his confession.

The kiss caught him off-guard.

“Guess I've got three years worth of dates to make up for. Prepare to be romanced off your feet Munson.”

That February, Eddie gave Steve red and yellow tulips.

Author's notes

-The fic's title comes from a quote by Victorian playwright Oscar Wilde: "With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?" The green carnation is associated with Oscar Wilde himself, and wearing a green carnation on ones lapel might have been a code for gay men at the time to identify one another. Wilde was famously convicted for homosexual acts in 1895. Let's say Eddie picked up a copy of "The Picture of Dorian Gray" and learned about the symbolism from a coded forward written for it.

-The meanings within the original bouquet were "happiness" (pink rose), "longing for you" (pink camellia), "foolishness/folly" (columbine), secret love (gardenia), and homosexuality (green carnation). Eddie was being very dramatic putting together the original bouquet for his forbidden love, and definitely dyed the carnation himself.

-Red and yellow tulips represent passion/declaration of love and sunshine in your smile respectively.

[biteyoubiteme]

OKAY I FEEL LIKE YOUREWT TGE RIGHT PERSON FOR GHIS!!!!

princess reader in their big castle with butler/servant Kai

I seen this picture and it immediately came to mind like how can you not see what I’m seeing oh my goshy I’m gonna go insane

im so sorry this took me so long to answer ;-; but I loooove this so much and im so happy you brought it to me I honestly could have gone super horny thoughts on this but I didn't lol I kept it tame but- no warnings mostly soft thoughts

wc: 0.5k

-Princess!reader and Butler!Kai have been assigned together for years, picking up a routine that both of you knew by heart. Enjoying the monotony of your shared company. Every morning sharing tea with you in your rooms, sleep still in your eyes as he shares the gossip about the other servants. The warmth of your perfectly done-up cup held in your palms, the right amount of cream and sugar always the same. 

Kai follows you around in the gardens, listening to you go on and on about flowers and the weather as if he hasn't had this same conversation before. Attentively answering with hums of acknowledgment to keep you going. Even when it rains, holding out the umbrella for the both of you, trying to convince you two to spend the day in the library. 

You spent most of your time in his company, his duty to follow your every command, and you spent most of your time trying to convince him to have a seat. “Just one game, please,” the chess board was already set up and ready. It wasn't uncommon that you asked him to play, but it was frowned upon to be distracted even at your wish. But you hated to sit and read alone, the library was too big and silent to sit with someone's eyes on you instead of looking over a book like you were. 

“Only one princess, I can't get caught again,” his slim fingers tugging off his gloves to place neatly at the edge of the game table. 

“Well play like you mean it and don't let me win just because,” and he would nod, dark hair falling on his brow, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course, princess,” 

But he never stopped after one, just like when he said he would only spend one day reading with you, sitting at the other end of the decadent embroidered couch, watching you over the edge of the book you had picked for him. Taking breaks to get you your afternoon tea and bring you the daily letters. 

Joining you on days you went to the market, carrying your basket in the crook of his elbow. Trying to find the perfect bouquet of flowers for display in your rooms, you examine each one asking Kai for his opinion, lifting them to his nose for him to catch the sweet scent. 

And on the trip home he would hold them in his lap for you, helping you find the perfect spot to set them up on your tea table. And if it was late enough, late to the point that the clock had hit past his time to leave you for the night, you would ask him to say. The lamps lit and low, voice soft enough to match how shy you felt. In the light of day, your hand in his gloved one as he helped you down the stairs, you two could be overlooked, but here in your rooms, the dark settling in it felt like a secret. “Kai…could you help me with the buttons of my dress?” 

His gentle hands worked over the fabric, nimble fingers taking their time, steadily unbuttoning every last one. Helping Take off your necklace just as he did with helping you put it on every morning. His breath ghosted over the back of your neck like a caress, a promise of more.