#stupid bloody Tuesday

[prisen09]

Sitting on a cornflake

Waiting for the van to come (not you, Van)

hey followers. have you ever wanted to know how it feels to be inside a bag of cornflakes

[irisbaggins]

Sometimes, I really do see my ADHD in action when I end up hyperfocusing on a task and going absolutely feral.

Anyway all of the tags in three sections have been checked and replaced and these were all those that were wrong 😊

[xinganhao]

🌱 wonwoo x producer!reader.

the five times wonwoo swears he's over you (and the one time that he decides he isn't) ★ see also: main post, drabble

♫ maybe i'm just not better than this, i haven't tried / 'cause maybe you'll finally choose me after you've had more time.

🌱 the five times.

when he sees you for the first time in over a year.

he believes it's the nice thing to do, treating you out to dinner. he froze you out, after all, because he was stupid and he didn't know how to handle his crush on you. he likes to think that the past fourteen months have made him better. wiser. so, that night, he makes it up to you. he also makes up a dozen different excuses. do his eyes linger on you a little too long as you happily drink your yogurt drink? he's just making sure you like what he chose for you. does he walk a little closer when he notices you're shivering from the evening cold? he's just concerned you might get sick. he doesn't like you anymore. he's better now, wiser now. he has to be.

when your second studio choom video comes out.

it's not the same as the first time, where he'd smiled to himself while watching you perform your latest comeback in STUDIO CHOOM's crisp, 4k quality. back then, that's how he had known he was done for. this time, he watches it purely out of curiosity. to add to the millions of views that the video is already raking up. he keeps a straight face the whole time. just watches with a perfectly neutral expression. he's just a guy supporting a friend, isn't he? when he gets through the entire video without smiling, he counts that as a win. if his heart— the bloody traitor— had stuttered at your ending fairy, well. that's an entirely different story.

on a random tuesday, just because.

he's never really seen the appeal in games like stardew valley; they were always a little too slow for his taste. but you'd absolutely begged, and so he begrudgingly bought the game for ₩20,600 just to shut you up. he still doesn't care much for it, to be quite honest. there's a lot of slow, lazy days where he just dicks around in-game. he bears with it anyway since you're always so happy when you beat him at fishing, or when you get to steal away the bachelorette he was going after. your voice is a low buzz in his ear as the two of you play until the sun has risen, until he's cussing you out for keeping him up so late when he has a schedule to go to. you let him complain all he wants because he'll still back online for co-op later that night.

when you're back in the same recording studio as him.

this one is the hardest, because this is where he fell for you in the first place. you, with your head bent as you fiddle with jihoon's digital audio workstation. you, with your usually friendly demeanor shuttered behind something so cool and collected. the pencil tucked behind your ear. the way you worry your lower lip as the boys croon. he wants to scream, wants to test just how soundproof this damn studio is. instead, he sings his lines. he makes adjustments as necessary. he watches you do your thing, even jokes to you here and there. it's all he can do to keep his mind away from what it wants so badly to stray back to. in the end, he doesn't scream. but when you smile at him and tease him that he did a good job— he wishes he had.

when he drives you home after you've had one too many to drink.

you're half-asleep in his passenger seat, all soft edges and incoherent mumbles. he tries to be cross with you, tries to tell you off for not knowing your limits and ending up like this. there's an unmistakable softness in his gaze, though, as he makes sure the seatbelt isn't too tight around your frame. he avoids all the potholes and goes extra careful over the speed bumps. by the time he makes it to your dorm, you're already passed out with your cheek pressed against the window. he decides to let you sleep for only thirty seconds more. as he mentally counts down— thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight— he tries to convince himself that it won't sting when he gets to one. (it still does.)

🌸 the one time.

on another random tuesday.

in the end, it's not an evening of stardew valley that gets him. it's not one of your fancams, not your warm presence in his shotgun. no, it's something much more stupid. something much more small. it's the way he looks for his phone when it pings. he doesn't even know if it's you who's texting him. but it could be, and that's enough to have him fishing through his bag hastily. he catches himself one afternoon, notices the way he's just a touch too excited to check the newest notification. he's not any wiser or better, it seems. he doesn't know if he can be. he's still the same jeon wonwoo with a hopeless crush on you.

[enyalios-shrine]

𝘼𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥 101

Hi! I’m Raven (or Ray), and I’ve been an Ares devotee for almost five years now. You want to start worshiping him? Great! Despite what today’s media makes of him - which I will talk about a lot in this post - , he’s actually a very caring, gentle and (dare I say) beginner-friendly deity! In general, a great choice! (Also, this is inspired by another post I saw but forgot to save - so, credits for the idea goes to that person) So, let's get started.

WHO IS ARES? - MODERN MISCONCEPTIONS

Since I’m assuming you already know the broad strokes of who he is (Greek god of war, bloodshed, violent and so forth), this section will be about some of the misconceptions most people have of Him. If you’ve ever consumed any Greek mythology-related media, I’m sure you’ve seen the following caricature: beefy, misogynistic, violent, stupid jerk, rude and always looking for a fight. While, yes, He IS violent (He's the god of war, afterall), that's far from all He has to offer.

Did you know Ares is actually historically a major feminist? That’s probably the first thing to get demystified about Him when you talk to an Ares devotee or worshiper, so I’m not really saying ground-breaking news here, but since a fair amount of people don’t know about it, I thought it was a fair mention. So, let’s get into the actual myths and proofs for this claim:

Ares was the father of and supported the Amazons in battle, a group of female-only warriors and hunters.

He’s one of the only male deities in Greek mythology to not have sexually harassed or raped someone. Yes, even other deities viewed as “nice” such as Apollo and Hermes have done so (I don’t mean any disrespect for those deities here - I’m also an Apollo devotee).

Ares was held in trial for the murder of Halirrhotius, a son of Poseidon, after he raped one of Ares’ daughters, Alkippe. He was acquited of murder by the gods. Remember, back in ancient Greece, women didn’t have ANY rights - raping one was not considered a crime or even frowned upon as far as I'm aware.

One of His epithets is “Ares Gynaikothoina", which means "feasted by women". During a war between the Tegeans and the Spartans, the women of Tegea defended the city from a invasion led by the Spartan king Charilaus. After arming themselves, they defeated the Spartans following an ambush. Among the prisoners was the Spartan king himself. In commemoration, they would hold a feast in honor of Ares, to which only women were invited.

All in all, Ares is protective, just, and encouraging of His children as well as worshipers and devotees. He’s not the piece of shit jock most people think of when you mention His name. Please stop doing my man this dishonor, He deserves so much better.

BASIC INFO

His Roman counterpart is Mars. He’s the son of Zeus and Hera, and his consourt is Aphrodite (even though they’re not officially married). His divine children are Phobos and Deimos (twin daimones/personified spirits of panic and terror, respectively), Harmonia (goddess of harmony and concord), Antero (erote/god of requited love) and Eros (erote/god of carnal love), all which he had with Aphrodite, as well as Drakon of Thebes (a giant serpent), which he apparently had by himself.

As for hero children; Cycnus (a bloody-thirsty men who was murdered by Herakles), Diomedes of Thrace (who had man-eating horses for some reason), Thrax (who founded Thrace), Oenomaus (Greek king of Pisa), and the Amazons (female warriors and hunters as mentioned above).

His symbols and associations are: spears, swords, helmets, armour, dogs, chariots, shields, The Chariot & The Emperor tarot cards, etc.

FESTIVALS AND DAYS

Tuesdays are holy to Ares and are ruled by the planet Mars (again, his Roman counterpart), which means they’re associated with action, energy, strength, and courage, as well as the color red.

As for festivals, He was typically honored with special rites in times of war or just before battles. There were also two annual festivals: one in the town of Geronthrae in ancient Laconia, celebrated only by men, and one in Tagea in Arcadia, celebrated only by women, where His "feasted by women" epithet came from. There's hardly any info on exact dates (from the Attic calendar or not) or info about any other festivals.

SACRED ANIMALS

Serpents

Dogs

Vultures

Woodpecker

Barn owls

Eagle owls

SACRED PLANTS

There’s no plant, flower or tree traditionally associated with Ares, unfortunately, so I’m gonna give a list of my UPG’s. Now, I’m not a witch, so I don’t know about the magical properties of the plants I’m about to list (if you’re a witch and were looking for something like that, my bad). However, I am a florist and have a special interest in floriography, so I assign them to Him based on vibe, meaning, etc.

Amaryllis (Means “Pride”)

Basil (Means “Hate”)

Water hemlock (Means “Death”)

Snapdragon (Means “Presumption”, but I think he just likes the way it looks)

Poppy (Means “Eternal sleep”, but has a long history with wars, being the first kind of flora to start growing in abandoned battlefields that were previously considered infertile)

Nettle (Means “Cruelty”)

Magnolia (Means “Dignity”)

Yarrow (Means “Cure for a broken heart”, and is said to have been used by Achilles to heal his men on the battlefield, which is why the scientific name is “Achillea”)

Ginger (Associated with “Heat”)

Pepper, spices, etc (idk he just gives the vibes)

OFFERINGS & DEVOTIONAL ACTS

Honestly, the only slander Ares should be getting is that He likes edgy teenage boy things. That being said, here's some ideas/suggestions, first for devotional acts and then offerings:

Workout or do any kind of physical activity

Take care of your mental and physical health

Stand up for yourseld and what you believe in

Learn about past wars, battles, and riots

Do things that make you feel badass/brave/empowered

Go to a protest

Work on managing your anger (especially for my fellow BPD havers)

Pet a dog

Honor His children and Aphrodite

For offerings; any kind of meat, especially red

Anything sharp (cool knives or daggers, broken glass, etc)

Bones!!

Halloween decor (I personally have those fake plastic snakes, spiders, and a skull on His altar)

Black coffee, the stronger the better

Any alcohol, but especially whiskey

Anything spicy

WHY WORSHIP ARES? - A PERSONAL RANT

Living in an extremely physically abusive household, I had to know and be acostumed to violence from a very young age. That violence left with many things - BPD and C-PTSD, to name a few - but mostly importantly, it left me only being able to feel one thing: anger.

I was angry at everything. Angry at the world for allowing me to have to live through such a horrible situation, angry at my mom for not standing up for me, angry at my abuser, even angry at myself for not ever trying to fight back or protect myself (though now I realize that was completely out of the question. I was only 8, what could I have done against a man in his 30's that was three times my size?).

That anger didn't go away after I got away from my abuser. If anything, it grew worse. I'd yell, break everything around me, say horrible things to the people I loved - I was a totally different person. I could barely recognize myself. I was an empty shell, filled with absolutely nothing else than the purest form of resentment and wrath, things that had been brewing inside of me since I was a child. I never had the choice to become anything else.

Ares understands violence. He's the god of it. He knows when it's justifiable and when it's not, when it serves a purpose and when it's out of pure malice. He helped me realize that instead of trying to fight against my anger out of the shame it made me feel, I had to embrace it - become one with it. It's a part of me, at the end of the day. I just had to figure out how to control it instead of letting it control me.

He embraced me when I was too disgusted with this ugly side of me to even look in a mirror. I was scared of myself - he wasn't. He's seen worse. I never had someone accept me and all my flaws before, god or otherwise.

That's why it's so upsetting to see the modern depictions so many people have of him. Someone so understanding and loving being defined by the worst parts of Himself, just like I used to do with myself in the past.

Ares is the god of war, war is not the god of Ares.

[riofann]

7. tempestuous

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Previous Chapter

Trigger Warning: Violence, mentions of SA

Saturday December 5, 2020 

As much as you hate to admit it, Rio was right as soon as Cure relaunched it didn’t take 3 months before you found yourself busy with the bar. You were hoping it would be a flop. You didn’t like the fact that people were so eager to come back. It was as if Gracie meant nothing to them all they wanted was the food and drinks. 

“Fuck you!” you feel the rage spilling over 

He scoffs “Fuck me?!” “Why am I collateral damage for whenever shit goes wrong?” He sighs “You're not” 

“So then why does it keep happening? What happened this year? What happened last year? Why am I bearing the brunt for shit I don’t even ask to be involved in?” “You're a boss, you know that sometimes..” 

You slap him with all the strength you can muster “Gracie is dead because of him”  You point to Alejandro “and you want to talk about being a boss?” he had told you to stop by the warehouse tonight “Are you done?” he asks

“No Fuck you!” You say shoving him causing him to stumble back a little, when you go to push him away again he grabs onto your arms “What do you want from me?! Have I not given you everything?” “Chill out Y/N!” he raises his voice holding onto your arms

 “Why is Alejandro here?” You ask him, struggling against his strong grip

“He’s here because he works for me now”

“At what expense?” “You don’t dictate who i work with” You nod “so its not a partnership then, it’s never been one” 

“It is” 

“So why is he here? I don't want to work with him, do you know what he used to do to me?" he just scowls at you "I can’t sleep because of him and you employed him?!” 

“I told you I’m taking care of it so chill” 

“NO! Fuck you Rio, I can’t believe I was stupid enough” You pause  “Why not just kill me?" you ask voice breaking "Why are we even pretending here?” 

“Why you asking so many questions? Stop overreacting” 

“Fuck you I’m not overreacting!” you maneuver your way out of his grip “What did he tell you that you’re so eager to work with him?” You turn to face Alejandro “What did you say to him huh? Told him how big your dick is? Tell him how you can’t wait to feel his lips around it? Did you shove it in his face?” 

“Chinga tu....” before he finished you punched him he laughs “hit like a girl“ You continue punching him the men go to stop you but Rio stops them from rushing to you 

“What did he tell you?” You ask Rio out of breath

With a bloody mouth Alejandro speaks “that’s for me to know carino” you punch him once more and he falls to the ground “chinga” you stomp on his head knocking him out ultimately 

You chuckle cynically "I'm fucking stupid" you speak to yourself. Rio says nothing. You pick up your purse and walk away.

Tuesday December 15, 2020 

“Where’s Rio?” You ask gripping the bag tighter 

“Sorry carino, boss is busy you now have to work with me” he smiles showing his two gold canine teeth 

“I’m not” you say getting up 

“OYE! Where you going? You owe us money loca!” 

“Nope I owe Rio money if he wants it, he knows where to find me” you say defiantly getting in your car

Thursday December 17, 2020 

“Glad you made it back home darling” he speaks as he takes a sip of beer after your shower

“Oh you’re home!” You smile sarcastically although he did break in after you got in for the night “Can you just knock? I’ll let you in just fucking knock” 

“Where’s my money?” “Oh you know where that is, Mick is very aware of the layout of my home” “Y/N” “Go get it” you look at him with a confused look “isn’t that why you’re here?” He sighs “Why did I have to cut my trip short?” “Why you asking soo many questions?” You throw back at him pointing to the time he wasn’t responding to you over Alejandro 

“Just because you wanna throw a tantrum” he speaks

“It’s not a tantrum” 

“No? Then what is it mama?” he stands up and walks to you “You refusing to give Alejandro the money” You throw your hands up “I told you I’m not working with him, someone needs his listening ears” you tap your ears “Well you’re gonna have to” “Looks like you’re gonna be making a lot of house calls. I would give you a house key but seems like my door is always open for you” “Y/N” “Christopher

“You gon have to work with him” 

“I’m not”

“This ain't up for debate!"

“I’m not debating you,” you scoff at the thought “I’m telling you. You do not get to pull this shit with me and expect me to just sit there and be happy about it. So you have 2 options get someone else to pick up the money or kill me and get someone else to do this shit” Mick walks back with the duffle bag “Oh look Mick got the money get the fuck out of my house!” 

He pauses to look at you before leaving 

Thursday January 7, 2021 

Y/N: Where are you? 

Rio: Tied up 

Y/N: I’m going home 

Rio: It’s a one time thing, just deal with it for today 

Y/N: One too many 

“OY! QUE TAL WHERE THE FUCK YOU GOIN?” he screams at you as you walk away 

“Home” He catches up to you “No no no mi novia” blocking your path

“Fuck you!” you say moving around him  

He grabs your arm “I tried” 

“Let GO!” you demand He turns to face his friends making light of the situation “Esa mujer, puta!” He struggles with you and some time during the struggle you get slapped. You pause for a second before unleashing on him there's some commotion people are trying to pull you off of him 

He laughs proudly “you fucking bitch you think you’ll ever run anything you’re nothing but his perrito you're no boss acting like you can do shit you...” you kick him, he groans in pain falling to the floor 

“Pinche puta!” The other men say with their hands in the air you had reached in your purse and pulled out your gun

Alejandro looks up to you “What are you gonna do shoot me?” 

“Yes” you say calmly before aiming and pulling the trigger 

Sunday January 10, 2021 

“You called?” You say to Rio as you stand by the door of his office. He puts a finger up and continues to talk on the phone. You step into the office, closing the door behind you. You take in the environment; it's not what you expected, it was even better than your office. The tones of green, mahogany, and black complimented the exposed red brick. You take a seat by the chair on the opposite side of the desk as he finishes the conversation. 

“Soooo” you begin after the call ends 

He puts up a finger again, not looking at you but down at his phone. You huff in response and pull out your phone to keep you busy. 

“What happened?” He asks when he is done

“Here’s your money” you say placing the duffle bag on  his desk 

He doesn’t glance at it, his glare dead set on you “What happened Y/N?”  he asks again 

“We fought and I shot him” you state matter of factly 

“That's not the story I got” 

You open your hands as you shrug “Well seeing that you have no care when it comes to me why should I bother convincing you otherwise? You were never gonna believe me anyway” you pause “it is what it is huh?” 

He sighs “This isn’t a joke Y/N” 

“I told you I didn’t want to work with him” 

“And I told you I’m working on it!” 

“Yea you say that but...” 

He cuts you off “You can’t just go around shooting people point blank”

You roll your eyes in annoyance “He’s not dead, don't be dramatic” 

He bangs the table “Listen to me! This isn’t a game!” he lectures 

You scoff “so what you called me into your office to reprimand me? Is that it? I got called to the office?” you mock 

“No, I called you to ta...”

You stand up abruptly “Fuck this I’m done, there's your fucking money”  you say standing up and walking away 

“Get back here!” He bellows 

“NO FUCK YOU RIO!”

You can hear the chair wheels squeaking followed by the sound of it hitting the wall behind. The stomping of his boots walking up to you echo in the room. The very short walk to his desk was now a very long walk to the door. Your heart races, you can’t hear anything besides your heart and Rio’s boots thumping on the floor quickly approaching you. It feels so intense that all the other noise, the TV, the chatting outside, the low mediation music ceases to exist. You feel like your heart is going to explode from your chest. You just need to get to the door. As soon as you reach for the knob he pulls you back roughly with no care to you falling, stumbling, tripping nothing.

There's a pain radiating from your left arm “LET” before you can finish he has pulled you closer you can feel the air passing through his nostrils 

“Chill. the. fuck. out!”  he grits out, his glare is so intense you can see the vein popping out on his forehead. You look up at him going to rebuttal “I told you I was taking care of it and that's what the fuck I'm doing!” 

You feel yourself getting emotional “I told you...” 

“I know what the fuck you said, but that don’t mean you go around shooting people Y/N! Throwing a fucking tantrum!” 

You pull your arm only for him to grip tighter and pull you impossibly closer. The glare itself makes you stop struggling “Stop calling it a tantrum!” 

“Then stop acting like a child!” 

You try to push him off “NO! I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT TO WORK WITH HIM!” you try another tactic, if you knew anything about Rio he hated people being in his business

He jerks you abrasively away from the door walking you to the middle of the room as you stumble to keep up “OW RIO! LET ME FUCKING GO! WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBL...” 

“Be quiet” he commands authoritatively

“I..”

“NO! STOP TALKING!” He booms; it feels like the bass in his tone vibrates through you. You stand shocked speechless at what just happened. You’ve seen him angry when he was convinced you stole his money and this was giving you flashbacks. You stand reserved chest rising up and down rapidly as your lungs try to take in as much air as possible. 

With a hushed tone he says “You painting a fucking target on your back, did you stop to think what this means for you now?”

Still in an argumentative mood you taunt “I had a target on my back the moment I started working with you! It doesn’t matter now does it?! Nooo so long as Rio gets his money! Fuck me fuck everything that has happened, he is loyal to no one but his fucking family and money." You snicker bitterly "What they say about the Serraño's is written in stone.”  

He doesn't say anything just looks at you with a deep scowl after a minute he says “I’m trying to protect you."

You go to pull away “I’m not asking you to do that” He doesn’t say anything and just waits for you to give up “I’m not asking you to do that Rio” you stress

He loosens his grip but not enough for you to get out of it “I’m trying to protect you Y/N listen to me” “By having me work with the man that killed Gracie? That burned me? That put out a hit on you? On Marcu...”

He cuts you off “There’s shit that you don’t understand and I'm not going to explain. Listen to me this is my last fucking warning, chill. the fuck.out!” and with that he lets go bumping your shoulder on his way back to his desk 

You stand there watching him return to his desk before turning to leave

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

XOXO Rose

Taglist:

@katymae12344, @yinmaggiorebass , @flirtyjen, @wnbweasley, @meadows5, @ffenthusiastt, @rio-reid-whoreee, @belezaya, @meera10, @aunicornmademedoit, @stilestotherescue,

[rosenclaws]

Since you're taking requests again, mayhaps some Charlie content 🙏 Dealers' choice when it comes to the prompt. I'm just starved for content of my favorite loser.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

“You are more than you think of yourself. You’re everything to me.”

wc: 660

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I went with my favorite (angst sorry charlie!!)

This was really the last thing you expected to deal with at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. Seeing your ex boyfriend show up at your doorstep with a black eye and a bloody lip.

"Charlie." You sigh as you stand at the door. He's leaning against your door frame. He tries to smile but winces when he irritates his eye.

Silently you step to the side and let him in. He collapses on your couch as you go and find your first aid kit. You haven't had to use it since, well since you two broke up. You don't bother asking what happened this time. You already know what happened. He owed someone money and he got beat up for it.

"Hey baby." Charlie smiles tiredly as he sits himself up. You gently climb onto the couch next to him. You don't answer him as you gently dab at his face. It's deja vu as you think back to the times you've had to do this before.

"Shit." He hisses as you apply alcohol to his eye. "Sorry." You whisper. Charlie smiles, hearing your voice again was music to his ears. He can feel the disappointment radiating off of you. He wants to apologize but the truth is he isn't sorry. He missed you so bad. He needed to see you. After you finish patching him up you get him some water.

"What are you doing to yourself?" You ask sadly.

He feels a irritation grow as you look at him. Those same damn eyes that make him crumble. He can't stand them, they stare right past into his soul, into the deepest most insecure part of him.

"I'm fine." He slams the glass down onto the table. This was a mistake.

"Fine? Is that what you call showing up at my doorstep with a busted face?" You press as he gets up. He walked out on you before but you won't let him again, at least not without an explanation this time.

"Don't pretend like you're not happy to see me like this." He snaps.

"Like you're not happy to know that you were always right about me."

"What are you talking about!? Charlie I was in love with you. Win or lose. You were the love of my life!" You shove his chest out of anger. When will he get it in his thick head that all you ever wanted was him.

"Charlie, you are the love of my life." He lets out a frustrated yell and falls back onto the couch. His face in his hands.

"You are more than you think of yourself. You're everything to me." You sit next to him. Legs touching as you rest your hand over his. His fingers lock with yours as he relishes in the feeling of your touch. It's been so long. He ran because he was angry, jaded, he was spiraling and he'd be dammed if he took you with him.

"I shouldn't be baby, I'm no good for you." You roll your eyes and grab his face. Forcing him to look at you.

"Shut up Charlie." You know what he thinks of himself. He's a loser, he's washed, he can't do anything but make stupid bets and false promises. But you never saw him like that. He was always your Charlie.

"Come on, it's late." You grab his hand and stand up.

"We can talk in the morning." Charlie lets you drag him to your bedroom, almost in awe that you're letting him be here with you.

He crawls in next to you. His arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you bury your face into his chest. He knows he's got a lot of groveling left to do, that you aren't going to forgive him this easy but fuck he missed you. If this is the start of your forgiveness then he'll spend as long as it takes until he makes it right.

[xobrattymoonxo]

Kenma, Akaashi, Kuroo and Bokuto x Reader

TW: Non con, fisting, anal, double penetration (Front and back), knife play, blood, carving into skin, If i missed anything please let me know!

AN: Unedited for the most part. Sorry It's been a while guys! I was writing a jjk fic but then I just thought of this and wanted to write it dhbvshdv

Word count: 3.8K

Y/n ran through the house slipping on the rug. She tripped a little but was able to gain her footing again as she ran once more. She saw the door in her vision as she picked up her pace. As she was unlocking all the locks, she was pulled back by her left shoulder. She was slammed into the ground as the man laughed. 

“You can’t outrun me.” He said with a devious smirk. 

Y/n’s first reaction was to start screaming. The man with black and blonde hair covered her mouth. Y/n instantly bit down hard on his hand drawing blood. 

“Ow you bitch!” He yelled.  

“Kenma, are you okay?

“No, that stupid bitch bit me!” He yelled at the black haired man. 

“Fuck.” The black haired man sees Y/n getting up and rushing for the front door. “Y/n, if you know what’s good for you you will stop right now.” He said in a stern voice.  

“It’s too late to give up now, Akaashi!” She yelled as she began to unlock the seven locks on the door. Akaashi rushed to her side as she turned with all her force and punched him in the nose. He fell backwards with a bloody nose/. Kenma rushed up to her other side as she used a swift kick to hit him in the balls.

“Fuck!” He yelled as he fell down holding his crotch. 

Y/n unlocked the last lock as she ripped the door open. She began to run down the long driveway of the private house on the outskirts of Tokyo. Around the house was nothing but trees, but she figured if she ran through the forest she would be safe from Kuroo and Bokuto, who were probably on their way home. 

Y/n started to run through the forest as she heard a car pull in the driveway. She turned back to see Bokuto rush to the front door. Akaashi was standing on the porch holding his nose as he pointed to the forest where Y/n was. 

She turned as fast as she could on her feet and ran for her life. She knew if she went back to the house, she’d be screwed, maybe even dead. 

It wasn’t long after Bokuto had begun his hunt, like she was a deer and he was the hungry mountain lion. He ran at full speed as she kept running. 

It wasn’t always like this, Y/n actually used to work at the 24 hour convenience store. Kenma had come into her store many times to buy energy drinks around 2 or 3 am. It was just Kenma at first, harmless soft Kenma. Until he started to bring in his friend, Kuroo. Kuroo started to stalk Y/n, figuring out she was a university student at Tokyo U. Their friend Akaashi happened to go there as well. He started off casually following her around for Kenma… and then for Kuroo. He then began to take photos, stalking her more intensely. He learned her schedule, he learned everything about her and he claimed it was all for them.

One Friday night, Kenma went into the convenience store with Kuroo. 

“Hey Y/n.” He said monotone as usual. “I am having a party this weekend at my place. Figured I’d invite you since I always see you around.” 

“When is it? I most likely will be working so I probably won’t be abe to make it.” She said upset. 

“Monday.”

“Oh, I have classes on Tuesdays, I shouldn’t.” 

“C’mon Y/n!” Kuroo said, “Have some fun! We always see you here. You must not even sleep at this point.” 

“I sleep a couple hours after I get off at 6.” She laughed. “But maybe.” 

“Say you’ll come, please?” Kenma asked. 

She couldn’t resist Kenma. 

“Okay… What time should I get there?” 

“8pm, Oak Tree Rd, 175. See you next week, beautiful.” Kuroo smiled at her.  

She smiled as the two walked out the front door. 

Timeskip to Monday…. 

Y/n grabbed her bag and checked herself in the mirror again. She smiled as she looked at her black clubbing dress. She never had a chance to wear it as she always worked.  

Y/n began to walk outside to her apartment lobby. She looked at the time and saw it was 7:24pm. She began to walk. The party was only 34 minutes away, ust on the other side of her work. 

Y/n arrived at a house, there was no noise coming from the house. She walked up to the door really slowly. She knocked on the front door.  

“Hey Beautiful! You made it!” Kuroo said as he opened the door.  

“Um… I thought it was a party.” She tried covering up her chest a bit. 

“It actually starts at 9:30pm. We just wanted you to meet our close friends first.” Kuroo said. 

“Oh makes sense I guess.” She murmured.  

“Come in.” Kuroo stepped aside for Y/n to walk inside. She looked around the mansion astonished. “Nice, huh?”

“Hey Y/n.” Kenma said. “Glad you could make it.” 

“Hi Kenma.” She looked around the large room with 3 couches in it. There was a large projector style tv on the wall. 

“Hi I am Bokuto!” A man with silver and black roots said. 

“Hey, I am Akaashi.” The black haired man said from behind Bokuto. 

“These are our best friends.” Kuroo said. 

“It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Y/n.” She said. 

“Come have a seat.” Bokuto motions her in between him and Akaashi.  

“So tell us about yourself, Y/n.”Akaashi smiled. 

“I go to Tokyo U. I work at a convenience store. I met Kenma and Kuroo from said convenience store. That’s about it.” She said with a nervous laugh. 

“You go to Tokyo U? I do as well.” Akaashi pretended not to know. 

“Oh what do you study?” Y/n asked.

“Editing and creative writing.” Akaashi said. “And you?” 

“I’m in med school. Hoping to be a Neurologist one day.” 

“Wow you must really never sleep then.” Kuroo said. 

“I study and do homework at work.” She laughed.

“Impressive.” Kenma said. 

“How about you three?” Y/n asked the rest of the guys in the room. 

“I’m a professional Volleyball player for MSBY.” Bokuto spoke up. 

“I work for the Japan Volleyball Association in the sports promotion division.” Kuroo added.  

“I’m the CEO of my own company and a streamer.” Kenma said.

 “Oh wow.” Y/n said. 

Just then the doorbell rang.  

“Looks like the party arrived early.” Kuroo said as he walked out of the room. 

Y/n stood up and walked to the kitchen to get a drink.

“Hey sexy, did it hurt?” A man said from behind Y/n. 

“If you ask if it hurt when I fell from Heaven, I’ll scream right now.” She said,  The guy laughed. 

“I’m Atsumu. What’s yer name, Angel?” 

“Please leave our guest alone, Atsumu. She’s not looking for you to dick her down, I promise.” Kuroo said from behind Y/n. 

Y/n sighed in relief as she turned around. Kuroo passed her a red solo cup full of Vodka. She took one sip and made a face at him.  

“What is this? It’s disgusting.” She said as Kuroo laughed as he took it back and chugged down the cup's contents. 

“Let’s make you something mixed then.” Atsumu rolled his eyes as he walked away from the two. Bokuto came into the kitchen and bumped into Y/n making her turn as Kuroo slipped something into her drink. He dumped coke on top of the rum in her cup and passed it back to her. The pill vanished into nothing as she took her first sip. Kuroo looked at Bokuto with a wink as he walked away. In 15 to 20 minutes their plan would take course. 

The two talked as Akaashi came up to them. Some time passed as Kuroo checked his watch. 

“Hey guys, I am not feeling too hot. Do you know what time it is?” Y/n asked, feeling herself fade out of consciousness. 

“It’s 10:30 pm, Y/n.” 

Y/n blinked and suddenly she was on the balcony with Bokuto’s hands on her waist. 

“Wha-what time is it?” She slurred, reaching up to grab her head in hopes to calm her throbbing headache.

“1:45am baby, why?”

“What?” She felt herself grow dizzy as she fell into Bokuto’s chest. 

“Are you okay? I should take you home. Sit for a second let me get some water.” He placed her down on a chair as he walked back into the room. He texted the others “Code red.” 

He slipped two roofies from his pocket and into the bottle of water. He took one sip before doing so so it wouldn’t be suspicious. 

“Here Y/n.” He passed her the water bottle as she began to chug it back. “Let’s just wait here a few minutes so the world stops spinning for you.”

She gave him a thumbs up as she continued to drink. The more she drank the dizzier she felt.  

“Bo….I don’t- I don’t feel good at all.” She tried to stand up as she fell into his chest once again. “Help me.” She whispered as she felt her eyes grow heavy and her body go limp. 

Bokuto smiled at the limp drugged up body in his arms as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He placed her on the bed carefully. Kuroo busted open the door and looked at the scene before him. 

“Thank god, What was code red about?” He asked Bokuto. 

“She became conscious again. I gave her a couple more roofies and knocked her out.” 

“Well she’s going to feel like shit when she wakes up.” Akkashi said from behind Kuroo. “Kenma is clearing out the party now.” “Good, that means it will be easier for us to get her out.” 

“How are we doing that again?” Bokuto asked. 

“Kenma got me to park in the garage so we could throw her in the trunk.” Kuroo said. 

“Okay. Let me go be our eyes and ears downstairs.” Akaashi said as he left. 

Bokuto looked at the unconscious Y/n on the bed and smiled. 

“She’s almost ours, Kuroo.” Bokuto said with a smile. 

“She is, Bo.” 

A few minutes later Akaashi walked back into the room. 

“All clear.” Akaashi said to the guys. Bokuto lifted her unconscious body off the bed. He began to carry her bridal style down the stairs.  

Bokuto walked into the garage as Kuroo popped open the trunk. He lightly places Y/n’s unconscious body in the trunk. 

“Let’s head out. It’s a long drive to the cabin.” Kenma said from the door behind them.  

Bokuto and Akaashi got into the back seat. The four headed out. 

It wasn’t too long before Bokuto began to get antsy. 

“Are we almost there? I want to be there! How much longer?” Bokuto’s legs started to shake.

“Bokuto-san, we will get there soon, don’t worry.” Akaashi said as he put a hand on his knee.

“I want to hold her though.” Bokuto huffed.  

“How much longer, Kenma?” Akaashi asked.  

“About 20 minutes.” Kenma said. 

“Awww but I want to be there now!” Bokuto whined again. 

"Bo, how are you this excited for someone you haven’t met before tonight?” Kuroo asked with a laugh. 

“Kaashi has told me all about her, he shows me her pictures too. Sometimes he shows me the videos he takes for you guys. She is so pretty and beautiful and she's just so perfect for us!” 

“Seems like someones in love.” Kuroo laughed again. 

The car was full of Bokuto and Kuroo talking about their favorite things about Y/n. 

Kuroo pulled up into the parking lot of a two story house surrounded by trees. Bokuto practically jumped out of the car. He ripped open the trunk to see a still passed out Y/n laying there surrounded by pillows.  

Bokuto lifted up her unconscious body and carried her to the door where Kenma was unlocking it. 

“There's a door to the basement in the pantry.” Kenma said as he motioned for them to go inside…. 

Y/n woke up with a splitting headache. She couldn’t remember much from the party, or how she even got home. She went to move her hands to rub her eyes, but something was restricting her hands. She looked up and saw her hands tied to the above bed post. She began to feel her heart beat increase, she pulled down on her arms and began to panic. 

“She's awake!” A voice yelled from across the room. 

“Perfect.” 

“What’s going on?” Y/n asked, confused. “Where am I? Who are you?” Her voice began to shake. 

“Y/n! It’s just us!” Bokuto exclaimed. “You’re safe here, okay?” Bokuto sat on the side of the bed. He placed his hands on her bare stomach. 

“Where are my clothes?!?” Y/n was freaking out as she noticed she was only in her lingerie. 

“Your dress was so tight, we thought we’d let your body breathe baby.” Kuroo said from behind Bokuto. 

Kenma walked in the room with Akaashi as Y/n tried to pull away from Bokuto’s hands. 

Bokuto’s hands trailed up Y/n’s side. 

“Baby, don’t pull away.” Bokuto said. 

Kuroo reached around Bokuto and started to untie Y/n’s hands. 

Y/n was quick to pull away from Bokuto and pulled her knees into her as she braced herself into the Headboard against the wall. 

“Baby, don’t back away.” Bokuto sighed as his hair deflated. He reached his hand out to touch her again. 

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed. 

Bokuto was taken aback by her shouting. He looked at Akaashi. 

    “Y/n, I know you’re scared, but there's no need to shout at us.” Akaashi said calmly. He moved over to the edge of the bed and reached for her. 

Y/n slapped Akaashi’s hand away. 

“I said don’t touch me!” She screamed again. 

Akaashi looked back at Kuroo and Kenma. Kuroo pushed past the two of them and grabbed Y/n by the ankles. He pulled her down the bed. She began kicking and screaming as Kuroo raised his hand to slap her across the face. She reached up and grabbed her cheek as she cried. 

“You are going to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” Kuroo said. 

He was quick to place his hand on her throat as he began to apply pressure. She reached up and tried to pry Kuroo’s big hands off her throat. 

“Kuroo, careful.” Kenma warned. 

“She’s being an ungrateful bitch.” He spat back. He ripped down her underwear as he shoved two fingers inside of her pussy. 

“Kuroo! I wanted to be the first one to fuck her.” Bokuto whined. 

“Then get over here before I change my mind.” Kuroo said. 

4 ½ months later… 

That's how they got into their current situation, y/n running for her life through the woods in nothing but Bokuto’s shirt and underwear.  

Y/n was giving everything she had into running away. She heard footsteps catching up to her. She tried her best to speed up as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She was pulled back and thrown to the ground. 

“Fuck! Let me go!” She screamed.  

“Baby, calm down! You’re just confused.” Bokuto’s voice cooed at her. He picked her up as Kuroo arrived at the scene. 

“Stupid bitch thought she could escape.” Kuroo laughed. “Here.” He passed Bokuto a pair of Handcuffs. 

“No please! No! I just want to go home!” Y/n cried. 

“You were home.” Kuroo snapped. 

Bokuto and Kuroo fought and put the handcuffs on Y/n’s wrists. She was crying and thrashing her wrists as Bokuto carried her back bridal style.  

“Bring her back down stairs. I have a surprise for her.” Kenma said manically. 

“On it.” Kuroo said as he led Bokuto through the house.  

Akaashi went behind them and began to lock up the front door again. Kenma walked past him and into the kitchen and grabbed a large knife. 

“Woah what’s that for Kenma?” Akaashi asked.  

“You’ll see.” He smiled a devilish smile.

The two walked down the stairs where Bokuto and Kuroo had tied Y/n down to the bed.  

“Kuroo.” Kenma spoke. “Do you want to go first?” He asked, holding out the knife. 

“You deserve it. She did bite you after all.” Kuroo said. Bokuto just finished tying a rag in her mouth. 

Kenma grabbed the shirt on her as he sliced it off in one quick motion. He was quick to repeat the process to her underwear too. 

“Woah Kenma, careful you don’t cut her.” Bokuto said. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kenma smirked once again. 

Kenma pressed the tip of the knife into her soft thigh. He began to apply pressure as Y/n began to cry harder. Kuroo grabbed hold of her ankles as she tried to kick him off. 

Kenma pressed hard into her skin as he carved two letter K’s into her left thigh. He passed the knife over to Akaashi. Akaashi smiled as he pressed the knife down into her right thigh. He carved out AK before passing it to Kuroo. Akaashi and Kenma held down one leg each. Kuroo took his own sweet time to carve on the left side KT. He passed over the knife to Bokuto who looked a little uneasy. 

“Cmon Bo, you can do it.” Kuroo encouraged him. 

“It’s hurting her though.” Bokuto said all sad. 

“She hurt us Bo, she tried to leave us. We gave her everything and she repays us by leaving? This is just a reminder to her she's ours.” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto smiled as he looked down at her right thigh. He carved out a BK as he smiled. The blood was running down her leg.  Bokuto tossed the knife aside as he pulled his shirt off. 

“Seeing her like this…. Is making me feel some way…” He said with a devious smirk.  

Bokuto began to get naked in front of the other guys as Kuroo laughed. 

“Looks like Bo got turned on after all.” Kuroo said. 

Kuroo took his shirt off as Akaashi placed his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder.  

“What are you doing?” He asked him. 

“There’s enough room for all of us after all, remember?” 

Kenma smiled as he began to strip down too. Akaashi didn’t take long to follow through. 

The guys all turned to face Bokuto as they heard a loud muffled groan leave Y/n’s mouth.  Bokuto had shoved himself inside Y/n’s pussy dry. He began to frantically pump inside her. 

“Woah Bokuto, wait for us will you?” Akaashi said with a laugh. “Who’s taking what?” 

“I call dibs on her mouth.” Kenma said as he climbed onto the bed.  

“I’ll take her ass if you are okay to share with Bokuto this time Kasshi?” Kuroo asked. 

Akaashi nodded as he Approached the bed. 

“Bo, can you turn her on her side. I want to make space in her tight little asshole for me.” Kuroo smiled. 

Bokuto smiled back as he moved her on her side. Kuroo grabbed the lube from the bedside table. He opened it up and dropped a few drops on Y/n’s tiny butthole. He began to rub it in slowly as she begged for them to stop. 

“Kenma, shut her up before I do.” Akaashi said. 

Kenma laughed as he climbed to the top of the bed. Bokuto pulled her down a bit as Kenma got above her. 

“You bite me now, I’ll slice you up. Got it?” She shook her head in agreement. Kenma quickly shoved his member down her throat. He grabbed the back of her head and forced her to take all of him. It was Akaashi’s turn to join the fun. He put lube on his member as he lined it up next to Bokuto’s. Y/n was unable to do anything as her hands were still tied up. Kuroo now had 3 fingers shoved up Y/n’s asshole. 

“Bokuto, can you shift a little. I want to join you inside so we can all cum together.” Akaashi said. 

As Akaashi was forcing himself inside as Kuroo pulled his fingers out. Kuroo opened up the bottle of lube again and dumped it all over his hand. Kuroo smiled to himself as he slowly started to work his large fist into Y/n.  She cried out as Kuroo and Akaashi fully pushed in at the same time.  

“Fuck! Do that again.” Kenma moaned as she gasped and moaned out around his cock.  

Kuroo laughed as he pulled his hand almost all the way out, then quickly slammed it in at full speed once again. 

“Yeah fuck just like that.” Kenma moaned. 

“Fuck!” Bokuto and Akaashi yelled in sync. 

“Feels good huh?” He smirked. 

“Keep going,”Bokuto said. “She’s getting tighter with every thrust.”

The two in her pussy picked up the pace as Kuroo remained fisting her ass.  

“I’m close.” Akaashi moaned. 

“Fuck me too.” Kenma said. 

“Just cum inside her. I’ll buy some plan B tomorrow.” Kuroo said. 

Just like that, Akaashi and Bokuto shot hot ropes of cum inside Y/n. Kenma wasn’t too far behind as lets his hot load out down her throat. 

Kuroo pulled his fist out as he replaced it with his cock. 

“Fuck, she’s so stretched out.” He said.  

“I want to try fisting her too!” Bokuto whined. 

“Take her pussy. Her ass is mine.” Kuroo said. 

Bokuto looked down at her cum dripping pussy. He shrugged his shoulders as he began to force his massive fist inside her.  

“Stop! Please! It hurts!” She cried out.  

“You deserve this. This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for ours.” He said as his fist slowly slipped all the way inside. 

Kuroo groaned out as he felt Bokuto’s fist through the thin wall. 

“Fuck Bo, I can feel you on the otherside.” Kuroo moaned. 

“I can see my fist in her stomach!” Bokuto exclaimed excitedly.  

Kuroo was quick to release hot strings of cum inside her ass.

“Fuck that was to good.” Kuroo breathed out.

Y/n laid there crying silently as she begged for it to be over. 

“Well that’s not fair to Kenma or Akaashi, now is it?” Kuroo smirked.  

“Please- please no.” 

“Cmon, let’s not play favorites, okay?” Bokuto said. 

Akaashi grabbed the lube as he lined up to her front entrance and Kenma at the back entrance. 

Y/n was screaming in pain as the two who had finished sat back and watched. 

It wasn’t until hours later they all stopped. Constantly fucking her between their fists and their cocks. She was laying there, completely fucked out when they finally stopped. She was covered in cum and it was dripping from all three of her holes. There was even some blood in other places then her thighs.  

“Let’s get washed up. Let her rest for a little bit.” Akaashi said. 

“We shouldn’t leave her out. I don’t trust her on her own anymore.” Kenma added. 

“Bring the dog carrier.” Kuroo said. 

[jadewritesficshere]

Okay, but imagine Robin who hangs out at the diner on weekends because the senior citizens go there and are fun to hang out with. She knows all the ins and outs of who is who in Hawkins thanks to Janice. Gladys has shown her how to knit, which the first thing she made was a very off-putting and weirdly shaped sweater she gave to Steve (Steve absolutely wore it even if it is not correct. Anytime anyone mentions it he just goes "its called fashion"). Charles has lamented about how the outfits the kids wear and their attitudes ("All these bright colors and for what? To be a dick? Might as well have put a big flashing sign that says "I'm a prick"").

One day, there is a new guy at the diner. Robin doesn't catch his name but he seems nice (and younger then the majority of the crowd). Robin is telling them about Steve's failed attempts at flirting, when the new guy chuckles and cuts her off mid sentence. "Almost as bad as my kid...God love him," He smiles and looks at the ceiling before taking a sip of coffee. Robin would feel frazzled getting interrupted if the guy didn't go on to tell the most hilarious story she ever heard. The poor kid was apparently so flustered trying to flirt he had actually tripped and spilled his drink on himself; somehow, the story ended with the kid looking like a sewer rat with twigs in his hair and a bloody nose, but an award winning smile cause he got a number.

Robin immediately wants to meet the kid who is "around your age". He seems sweet and funny, at least this man is so surely the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree. Janice is the one to suggest Robin meets the nephew and brings Steve along ("That poor boy needs more friends his age, always cartin' those kids around" "If he ever wants an older friend you tell him to-""Rhonda! He could be your grandchild!""I have eyes Janice, just because I'm old doesn't mean I can't see""You're legally blind."). Robin earnestly agrees. As they leave, Robin makes plans with the man, making sure the others can't hear so they don't show up. Robin makes plans for Tuesday at 4.

Except on Tuesday she gets sick. She's laying on the couch pathetically, lamenting about how she never gets sick. Steve is like "oh nooooo guess we have to cancel" with a shrug, cause he could not care less (he had wanted to spend a relaxing night off). Robin convinces him to go. Cue Steve meeting Eddie at a diner, essentially a blind date. Steve shows back up at the apartment him and Robin share and is smitten. Starts telling Robin all about the date not date. Eddie goes home to Wayne, gives him a grumpy look (he didn't want to go out to some "stupid" hangout), then goes to his room. Wayne could hear his squeal of delight and then hear Eddie talking to himself about the prettiest guy he's seen. Wayne just sips his coffee and goes back to reading the paper.

[shattersstar]

secrets.

pairing: jason todd x reader

prompt: say my name (cover) by hozier

a/n: 1/3 :) enjoy <3

—

He had come home through the front door, black duffel bag slung over his shoulder despite the ache starting to spread across his body. He shuffled in with a low sigh, the pain from falling off a fire escape finally settled in as he crossed the threshold. He let his bag slip off his shoulder, catching it seconds before it slapped the hardwood as Jason remembered he wasn’t home. Well he was, your apartment was more a home than his or even the manor ever was, but it wasn’t a place to be loud without a care. Not at this hour at least. Jason set it down carefully instead, trying to ignore the pain shooting up his back as he kneeled to unlace his boots.

He heard your door creak open, soft shuffling as your silhouette appeared in the hallway. He hadn’t even looked up yet and your presence soothed something wild in him instantly. “Hey baby.” Jason grinned, surprised you were awake, but happy to see you nonetheless. “How come you’re up, thought you worked in the morning?” You stayed unmoved and Jason looked back up at you, fingers stilling on his laces.

He opened his mouth to speak, throat starting to feel thick at the cold demeanour rolling off of you, but you replied before he could, “Someone wanted my shift so…” Your voice was above a whisper, unsteady and it had Jason standing at his full height. He reached over to flick on the hallway light, letting the yellow light fill the space more than the one lamp in the living room could. You looked tired, face tear stained and your massive comfort hoodie on. He remained unmoved, swallowing the dry and bloody taste in his mouth while you shifted your weight.

Jason knew he had been distant lately, but a new dealer had popped up and was causing him problems, ones that left marks too unexplainable. He called you most afternoons when he could, but it had been almost a month since you two hung out properly, let alone went on a date. You had always taken Jason’s life in stride even if you didn’t know the details, you knew it would demand more of him than you could ever have, but what you got was enough so you didn’t care. It was what you had told him, so sincerely and earnestly when he finally agreed to go out with you again. It had been a good decision—great even—but it wasn’t easy. And Jason wasn’t stupid, he’s cancelled your Tuesday date nights twice this month and the fact he left your apartment after being there for two hours last week were stupid choices that lead to more violence Jason had to keep you from. He should have apologized then, but he was just so relieved to be able to spend a night with you.

He didn’t have to lie today, Jason wanted to tell you that so badly. That he did fall off a fire escape, slipping in the rain and landing smack on his back in a dark alleyway. And while he was in his gear, fell from seven stories up and had a helmet to protect what could have been a lethal mistake into just a stupid one. Yet, as you let out a breathy shuddering sigh, Jason wondered if half of the truth would be enough. It seemed as if you were after much more.

“Are…are you okay?” He found himself asking, voice betraying him as the nervousness he was trying to hide poured out. And he knew you weren’t okay, it was a stupid thing to ask and Jason was angry at himself for not being able to understand more.

“Just…are you—“ You stifled a sob, taking half a step back which made his veins run colder, “Are you cheating on me?” Jason’s face fell at your words, they were so far from the truth, but hurt deeper than he could have ever imagined. They scathed something raw in his heart, and he was crossing the small space in a handful of strides.

“Fuck no—no, never. I would never do anything like that to you baby, never. There is no one else, but you. You’re—fuck you’re everything okay? Just no, no, I’m not fucking cheating, no, not on you.” He was angry, stammering and tripping over his words, but held your face in his hands so gently. Jason’s capacity for tenderness even at his angriest never ceased to make your heart flutter. Tears spilled over your eyes at his words, you wanted to badly to believe him.

“But you’re so far away, distracted and carrying that bag I can’t fucking stand the sight of. And I get shit is gonna come up, but three date nights in a row? Seriously? You didn’t even say anything about Friday either Jay! I was outside my apartment for an hour and waited inside for two more.”

His eyes fell closed, Jason had completely forgot he was supposed to take you on his bike around the outskirts of the city for a picnic. It was to makeup the fact he’d miss your date on Tuesday, instead he was following a lead to Bludhaven that had him there till last night. He had been so caught up in work he didn’t even realize that Friday had came and went.

“Fuck I forgot about that.” He muttered in explanation, eyes dropping from yours.

“Yeah I kinda figured,” You sniffled, letting a moment of silence pass before as your anger simmered more into desperation. “God, its like I know you’re keeping things from me, and I accepted the secrets around your life when we first started dating, but this? This is another level. Jason, I know you’re hiding something intrinsic and meaningful to you—from me—and now you’ve just…left me in the dust.” You couldn’t tell if you had said all of that, or if it stayed locked inside your throat, until regret started to flash across Jason’s face at your words. You couldn’t stop the sob that escaped your throat, wanting to collapse into the floor while he still held you so close.

“I know, I know.” He whispered, teeth tugging on his bottom lip. He wanted to be able to say anything to break the tension, to make you smile or slap him, but you had been more than gracious. Jason had known that, it ate him alive most nights, and he couldn’t even find anger towards you within himself. Couldn’t force himself to lash out and push you away because it made it digestible and easy to leave. “I’m not cheating on you, I cant even look at anyone else–but I can’t tell you everything, I just can’t. Because Gotham, this city? It’s dangerous, and I am…close to that danger. You know me and what I would or wouldn’t do, so know I’m doing what’s right. I just can’t let you into this world, its not safe and I can’t lose you to it.” You urged his eyes back to yours, only stray tears escaping as you searched his gaze for the truth. It was so sincere, which should’ve been horrifying, but it brought peace to your chest. Something violent enraptured this man you loved, and yet it settled something in your core.

“And I’m, uh, I’m sorry. For keeping you in the dark.” He added, averting your gaze at his apology. Jason was never good with faults, with accepting them gracefully and apologizing for them, but you knew he meant it. Meant the words that often struggled to escape his lips. He only looked back when he felt your hands nudge his sides, your head moving from his hands and tipping into his chest. Jason let his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close as you let your last few tears stain the front of his shirt. He smelled clean, like his body wash and gasoline.

“Did you ride your bike over?” You mumbled into him, feeling the vibrations of his voice as he spoke.

“Yeah, why? Wanna go on a drive?” You nodded against Jason’s chest, but held him tighter first. He got the message, and kept holding you, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. When you untangled yourselves, he dried your face with the sleeve of his shirt, a watery laugh bubbling from you.

“Fuck that bag though.” You suddenly said, nodding over his shoulder. It made him laugh in turn.

“I’ll keep it out of the apartment.”

“Out of sight works fine for me.” You replied, before Jason pulled you in for another embrace, a beat of silence before he lead you towards your bedroom. You sat down as he rummaged around your closet, finding the helmet he gave you on the highest shelf. He passed it to you before slinking out of his brown leather jacket and tossing it your way. Jason couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips as your eyes lit up once the fabric landed in your lap. You had always loved his jacket, it smelled like him and was worn down to the point of being one of the most comfortable things you got to wear. Jason instead slipped on the black leather jacket you had gotten him on your first anniversary, yanking it out of the front hall closest before sliding his hand into yours.

You walked to the parking garbage hand in hand, Jason keeping you pressed close while stealing glances down at you every few seconds. He was searching for a moment of hesitation—regret—in your eyes. His heart was still raw from it all, as was yours, but the idea Jason could even entertain being with someone else made his skin crawl. He had always felt a shade too possessive over you—you both knew that—he was trying to work on it, but god if he didn’t want to double down now. Jason wanted to show you the darkest sides of himself, to let how you made him feel consume him whole until he was an ugly, unrecognizable thing built only for violence and loving you.

An unholy beast whimpering in the dark of night.

But it wasn’t the time, not when your hands snaked around his waist and your helmet rested on his back. It made it hard to wallow in his own pity with your hands burning a hole through his torso. Instead, Jason peeled off into the Gotham night.

It was late enough the streets were quiet, the long stretching and twisting highways that connected the sprawled out city were empty save a few cars. City lights streamed by and Jason felt your head left to watch them in their neon haze. You both let the truth wash over you, you knew he wasn’t seeing anyone else, you believed him despite how daunting the truth may be. It seemed graspable, aligned with the splintered edges of his past and personality you had been exposed too. You still loved him all the same, you told Jason that enough, but as you rode through the city, you couldn’t help how your mind began to swirl. How well did you truly know the love of your life?

Jason sensed it, how your grip faltered and you suddenly felt so far off. Like you’d float away both in body and mind.

He slowed down after a turn, pulling off before a bridge and down to those small area of greenery hidden amongst exits and signs. Jason shut off his bike, letting you shuffle back as he clambered off carefully. He pulled his helmet off and helped you out of yours before setting them aside. “You okay?”

“Yeah, its just a lot of think about and I thought my head would be clearer now.” You admitted with a shrug.

“Well tanks full so we can keep riding till your head is clear.” He said, half teasing, but it sounded appealing. Jason noticed your contemplation, and smiled at you, spending a night roaming Gotham on his bike with you till sun up was nothing short of perfect for Jason, and you shouldn’t have been surprised at the suggestion let alone his silent agreement to do so. He handed you back your helmet and slouched against the side of his bike for a sec. You stared into the visor before one of Jason’s knuckles knocked your chin, pulling your attention to him. “It’s always gonna be you y’know? You’re the only one allowed this close.”

You leaned into Jason’s touch, kissing the palm of his hand before he pushed himself up and grabbed his helmet. You slipped yours on and smiled wildly underneath it. Things were going to change, but he was still the man you loved, and you were happy to share him with the grittier parts of this city if he was coming home to you. And as Jason flipped up the kickstand and started his bike to ride on through the remaining hours of dark till sunrise for you, you both knew it would be your bed he fell into every night. Or so help Gotham.

[tavolgisvist]

gif by evansbuckely

Sitting on a cornflake waiting for the van to come Corporation tee shirt stupid bloody Tuesday man, you've been a naughty boy you let your face grow long

(I Am The Walrus, 1967, Magical Mystery Tour)

Sunday's on the phone to Monday, Tuesday's on the phone to me

(She Came In Through The Bathroom Window, 1969, Abbey Road)

Tuesday afternoon is never ending, Wednesday morning papers didn't come. Thursday night your stockings needed mending, see how they run!

(Lady Madonna, 1968)

“Every Tuesday, Paul and I used to go to the pictures. One night, John, Paul and I went out for something to eat to a little cafe. We had nearly finished the main course and they both winked at each other and then they started to have this terrible row across the table. I’m thinking, what’s going on? They were shouting at each other until we all got thrown out so we didn’t have to pay.”

(Iris Caldwell, Oct 2012, BBC News 12: Looking back at the birth of The Beatles)

Paul's Tuesday as the theme of an animated film based on David Wiesner’s children’s book and the track on Paul’s Working Classical

Just for fun - and for your, lovely @i-am-the-oyster, joy <3

[spacerockfloater]

House of the Dragon, Season 2, Episode 1: Discussion

Overall, I did not like the episode at all.

First of all, am I crazy or was the whole scene at Winterfell and the Wall purely fanservice so that HOTD can gain the sympathy of old fans? I mean, it lasted like, 2 minutes, and added nothing to the plot. Cregan’s speech was amusing though.

Daemon didn’t let a single moment go to waste before he started acting like a king. Typical and at least consistent with his character.

Sigh. Preparing myself for the backlash I’m going to receive for this. I did not like the way Rhaenyra’s and Jace’s emotions were portrayed. Where was the shock? The agony? The horror? The pain? Too much silent grief for someone who just found out that their son/ brother was murdered. Hell, Rhaena showed more emotion than both of them combined and we saw her face for merely a second.

Good for my girl Alicent for finally getting some I guess, but the Alicole sex scenes were weak as fuck. No passion, no chemistry. It was robotic as shit. All that subtle tension between them during the first season led to nothing. Rushed as fuck and not at all what they made us think it would be. Provided absolutely zero context. Boring as hell, too. Thank fuck that it was leaked because it would have been a jumpscare. Nothing could have prepared me for it, it came out of nowhere.

Alicent standing her ground against Otto was surprisingly very good. I loved seeing her take the lead. And it was touching to see her light a candle for Luc, too.

Aegon II was very entraining. Refreshing to see him try to be a good king, actually care for his subjects and love his son. Distracts you from the fact that he’s still a stupid unseasoned teenager. Looking forward to some more character development on his part.

Now, what the actual fuck could Aemond ever possibly have to be angry about? Didn’t he just have his revenge? Who is he so pissed at?

Daemon and his murder cloak are the strongest ship in HOTD, which they should rename to “House of Misunderstandings” at this point.

I nearly pissed myself when Cheese’s super secret hidden path through the castle, that only he as a specialist knows, was crossing the fucking throne room on their tippy toes. Did they sneak back outside to meet Daemon the same way while leaving a bloody trail behind them? Are the writers actually insane? Who gave that shit the green light? Why does the door to Aemond’s room open by a lever? Is he Batman? Where the actual fuck was literally everyone? The guards? The servants? The ladies of honour? How was the fucking queen all alone?

And lastly, speaking of the queen… Oh my God. This was the most anticlimactic scene in the whole episode. I nearly fell asleep. I don’t know what’s Helaena’s deal, like is she neurodivergent? Is she just not fazed by anything because she has already seen everything play out in her head before it actually happens? It’s never explained and it makes it so infuriating that she looks just… concerned. Not traumatized or shocked, just perplexed and worried, lol. She pointed to her son faster than lightning. Did she just want all of it end as fast as possible? No idea. All the tragedy of the situation was removed. Luc’s death was much more impactful and shook the audience. This seemed so underwhelming and stale. And then Helaena quietly goes to her mother’s room, walks past her riding Criston like this happens to her every Tuesday, sits down, refers to her own son as “the boy”, and looks slightly distraught. Dian Doesn’t even shed a single tear. Nothing like the mourning woman gone mad by grief we saw in the trailer, though maybe we just have to wait I suppose. Like, lol okay. This was not giving like y’all promised it would. The only grotesque thing about it was listening to them sawing Jaehaerys’ head off.

The episode felt rushed as fuck and has severely reduced my interest in hating or loving any of the characters. There’d better be some top notch acting next Sunday or I’m dropping the show.

All opinions are welcome, just please be civil to one another!

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 4 - You've Got A Friend

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Set a couple of months after Chapter 3, Benedict and you are becoming best friends.

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: discussions of sex, swearing, publically faked orgasm

Word Count: 3.1k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, we see vignettes of Benedict and reader's growing friendship. And well... this ends with a twist on the famous scene. Yep. You know the one. Enjoy <3

21 months ago (3 months later)

Benedict Bridgerton is one of your best friends. 

If you had uttered that sentence to yourself ten, even five, years ago, you would have laughed your head off. But it's funny how life turns out. In the months after you reconnect, you start to meet up regularly, at least once a week, sometimes more, and you text almost constantly. Becoming each other’s crutch as you rebuild your lives as single people. 

On the surface, you couldn’t be more opposites, but he’s matured, and you find his company the most soothing and the most fun. Be it while having dim sum in Chinatown, wandering Victoria Park or helping him set up his new warehouse flat. There's always a tiny frisson, an undercurrent of something between you that, to be honest, makes it more appealing. A pilot light of heat that could, maybe one day, become a bonfire if the timing were right. You are not sure it ever would be, but it would be stupid to deny to yourself that it's there. There is certainly no one you like to verbally spar with more.

He FaceTimes you as you lay in bed on a regular Tuesday in September; it's become a habit. Just jabbering away until one of you falls asleep. Talking about everything, anything, and something nothing, watching a show or film together in digital silence. A comforting presence. 

“What are you watching?” he hums, scratching his beard.

“Don't judge me,” is your instant response, and he chuckles.

“Tell me,” his voice drops an octave in a way you are sure he knows has an effect on you. Physically. A little shiver down your spine. Bastard.

“Titanic,” you mutter as he bursts out laughing.

“You hate that film!” he exclaims, and you wish you could throw a pillow through the screen.

“That doesn’t sound like not judging!” you bemoan but concede he is right.

“Channel?” he asks, still giggling.

“Four… wait, are you going to watch too?” 

“Of course, then we can argue about it in real-time,” something in that offer makes you feel comforted. “It's near the end!” he decries after briefly pausing to change channels.

“How would you know?” you lobby, and he fixes you with a pointed stare.

“Please. This was Gen’s favourite; I had to sit through it five bloody times.”

“How is she?”

“No idea. She didn't speak to me after the breakup. Besides, wasn't she your friend?!”

“Yeah, but we lost touch,” you sigh, “sometime about seven or eight years ago, she moved to Bristol, and then we sort of drifted.”

He hums noncommittally, watching the movie, “So you’re saying Rose should not have saved him by sharing that door,” he states as the final scenes unfold onscreen before you both.

“I never said that!” you argue.

“Yes, you did! In the car on the way from uni!” he smirks.

“No, I didn’t!” you volley back indignantly.

“Fine, okay, you didn’t.” He rolls his eyes.

“I mean, that dick was so good, they fucked one time, and she returned to the ocean to say goodbye to it 70 years later,” you point out drolly.

He tosses his head back and laughs so hard you can’t help but join in. 

“Fuck that’s the funniest take on this film I’ve ever heard,” he wheezes.

“Right?! I can’t take credit; it's a comedy routine; I’ll send you a Spotify link,” you offer.

“Look forward to it,” he giggles.

The urge to ask him if he’s ever had sex so good he’d go to the spot it happened to commemorate it is on the tip of your tongue. You’re almost surprised he doesn’t use the opportunity himself. He’s definitely grown up.

“Are you sleeping okay?” he asks, rubbing his eye wearily.

“Doing better,” you admit, “not completely there, but better than I was.”

“Do you still sleep on ‘your’ side of the bed?” he inquires with air quotes.

“No. I’ve taken to sleeping wherever now,” you answer truthfully.

“Wow, you’re doing so well,” he sighs. “I feel weird if even a leg wanders over to ‘her’ side… and this isn’t even a bed we shared.” 

“Yours was a marriage, mine merely a long-term relationship,” you try to justify why he might still be more impacted than you.

“Same difference, except you don’t have a lawyer bleeding you dry arguing about shit…. Urghh, I need a drink.”

“No, you don’t,” you argue, “stay in bed and drink your water.”

“You can be very bossy sometimes, you know?” he opines but reaches for his glass of water on his bedside table as he says it, doing exactly what you suggest.

“It’s for your own good,” you point out.

“I know, I know. I suppose I should thank you. You’d be surprised how little men give a shit about their friends' well-being, even their best friends.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you fire back. “You’re all clueless idiots with the EQ of a shrimp.”

“Wowwww, okay,” he mimes being shot in the chest, “please don’t take out your Dr Tom issues on the rest of us unsuspecting shrimps.” It’s in jest, but you can hear the underlying argument and know he’s right.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You don’t have the EQ of a shrimp. I’ll give you, hmmm, a crawfish,” you offer with a giggle.

“Oh great, thanks,” he deadpans, “Could you not at least give me lobster?”

“Okay, fine. I hear lobsters are very smart, so you flatter yourself there, but yes, okay, lobster Ben. Please go get some sleep.”

“Alright,” he yawns, “can I call you my lobster too?”

“Why?” you frown sleepily, bemused.

“Some lobster thought it could predict the World Cup winning team—always thought it was right. That’s very you,” he stares pointedly down the phone camera at you.

“Fine, I’m your lobster too,” you stick out your tongue a little.

He chuckles as you settle deeper into your pillow, flicking off the TV as the credits scroll. Even you can acknowledge having a person to talk to is so comforting right before sleep. 

“Goodnight, lobster Ben,” you yawn, your eyes drooping.

“Goodnight, my little blue lobster,” he murmurs.

“Why blue? Cos I’m sad?” you hum, eyes closed.

“No,” he chuckles gently, “I have my reasons,” he says quietly, and you pass out as the call drops off. 

——

“So I had that dream again,” you mention offhand as you wander down the Southbank from Waterloo a few weeks later. It’s a crisp October day; you’ve taken the afternoon off work to visit the Tate Modern—there’s some exhibit he wants to see.

“The sex dream?” he verifies, weaving around an old lady who shoots him a disapproving look.

“Yup,” you confirm, kicking through the colourful pile of leaves under one of the trees. “So we are going at it up on this roof terrace, and this time he flies away just before I orgasm. I mean, what the fuck is that!?”

“Let me get this straight: you’re having sex with some mythical half-man half-dragon creature?” he seems completely bamboozled by the idea. “And just before you can come, he flies off?” 

“Yeah. What do you think it means?” you ponder.

“I think it means you need to get laid,” he laughs.

“Great fucking insight Sherlock Holmes,” body-checking him with your shoulder. “What about you? What’s your latest sex dream?”

“It’s always the same one. There’s this woman. She walks in, just wordlessly strips off my jeans and climbs onboard,” his cheeks have a high dot of pink that looks adorable, almost as if he’s embarrassed to say it.

“What does she look like? Are we talking Halle Berry? Helen Mirren? Florence Pugh?”

“I dunno… she’s just sort of faceless,” he gestures vaguely.

“Hmmm. Unusual. So then what happens?”

“I always wake up,” he sighs, staring into the middle distance, over to the Millennium Bridge.

“Wait….,” you stop walking and grab his arm, “...a faceless woman strips off your jeans and sits on you, and that’s the only sex dream you’ve had… ever?!” You can scarcely believe it.

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous, I know. I’d like to state for the record that I’ve had a much more varied actual sex life. And daydreams? Top fucking notch. But my unconscious, sleeping dreams? Very not sexy or just this one recurring one.”

“Does it ever change? At all?”

“I mean, sometimes I’m wearing trousers, not jeans?” he offers, looking nonplussed as to what else to add.

You cannot think of anything to say to that, so you just shoot him an exasperated look and walk away towards the entrance. How on earth can he get to sleep at night if that’s all he’s got to look forward to?

“Dinner after this?” he offers as you stare up at the giant sculpture suspended in the main Turbine Hall. It's been a fun few hours of wandering the exhibits.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t,” you obfuscate, feeling sheepish as you bring your gaze to him.

“Hooking up?” he inquires with a comedy eyebrow wiggle.

“Maybe,” you deflect, tucking your hair behind an ear, somehow bashful to talk with him about your first date in six years. “I’ll have to see how the date goes first.”

“A date? That’s wonderful!” He seems genuinely enthused, a big smile claiming his whole face.

“Yeah, I mean… I hope so? Let’s see. It’s been a bloody long time,” and saying that, nerves flare in your belly. “Not sure what I should wear, to be honest,” you admit, glancing down, self-conscious of your jeans and simple black top. “You think this is okay?”

“Of course it is,” he dismisses casually. “You look as beautiful as you always do,” the compliment just falls from his lips as if you asked about the weather. It still gives you that slightly gooey sensation under your ribs. Bastard.

——

The next evening you’re three cocktails down at Bar Americain on a night out with some work friends when your phone buzzes. 

BB: How was the date?

Y/N: He cried about his custody arrangement at the table.

BB: Divorced dad, eh? How fast did you scarper?!

BB: Guess it will be a while until you can get that orgasm, lol.

Y/N: ... I err, didn't?

Y/N: Oh, I got one.

BB: You slept with him?!? 

You always love to push it with him when you are tipsy, be a little daring with what you say. So you have your tongue in your cheek, wishing you could see his face when he reads what you are about to reply.

Y/N: Yeah, I mean, to be clear, the crying didn't turn me on. Not one of my kinks. But he had these nice hands, and I could tell from his jeans something good was going on down there. I was right. 8 out of 10, very nice. 

Y/N: And he didn't grow wings to fly off before I had an orgasm, either…  so win!

BB: How does one hang up on a text….?

Y/N: 😜

Five minutes later, your phone buzzes again.

BB: Wait. Do all women rate the dicks of the men they sleep with?

Y/N: I don't know all the women in the world, Ben…

BB: How is that an answer?

Y/N: 🤷‍♀️

“Ant…” Benedict calls, tossing his phone aside on his kitchen island and going to consult his brother across the room. He’s pretty sure that can't be all women, can it?

——

“I don't understand this at all,” Kate frowns, resting her weapon on her shoulder like a lumberjack.

“What don’t you understand?” you reply, staring at the target at the other end of the cage. You've decided this is an excellent cathartic way to do girls' night—just flinging axes at Whistle Punks after a hard work day in early November.

“You think he's attractive?” she pauses to applaud your throw as it smacks just below the bullseye.

“Yup.”

“You get on really well and Facetime and text every day?”

“Yup.”

“He’s straight?”

“Yup.”

“But you’re NOT fucking?” Kate quizzes, shooting you a look as she steps up to the plate.

“Nope.”

“I literally don't understand,” brow creasing as she takes her aim.

“Why can't you be proud of me? Not just crawling into bed with him on the rebound. He’s become a really close friend. Plus, I get the straight man’s perspective on things. It's really helpful now that I’m back on the market again. I can talk to him about sex stuff, and he's honest,” you argue.

“Sounds wrong to me…”

“Kate, you are fucking a married man,” you point out her hypocrisy archly.

“Yeah… and that's the point! I'm actually fucking him. What sort of Bert and Ernie shit do you and this Ben have going on?!”

“Please. Bert and Ernie are lovers,” you answer scornfully.

“Well, if they were, all the more reason you guys should be?!” she practically yells, hurling her axe with such gusto the manager comes to check on you.

——

Benedict takes you for dinner in the run-up to Christmas at some place so trendy it doesn't even appear to have a name. It's also where something transpires that haunts your spicier dreams for weeks. 

As usual, it starts with you both squabbling.

“Oh please, women fake them all the time,” you dismiss, stirring your soup.

“I don't doubt it,” he agrees, “but men can do it too.”

You shoot him a withering look. “Please. Half of men can't even fake enthusiasm; there's no way a man could fake an orgasm,” you argue with finality.

His eyebrows shoot up briefly as you take a triumphant sip. He puts his fork down and wipes his face with a napkin. Then he makes a low rumbling noise. Perhaps the food doesn't agree with him. When he does it again a second later, you get concerned.

“You okay?” 

He doesn't answer; he just makes the noise again. It's a low growl that almost reverberates around in his chest cavity, and something about it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Is your food bad?” you ask, a frown flitting over your face.

Again no answer. Benedict just makes another noise, louder this time. It’s definitely closer to a moan, and he takes a deep breath rolling his head to one side as if he's stretching his neck and really enjoying the sensation. Somehow you can't look away; you just stare at him, spoon in hand. Wondering what the hell he is doing, but captivated at the same time.

“Mmmm, that's it, baby,” he groans, and your insides are suddenly aflame. You've never heard his voice go into that register, it's low and throaty, and you feel a flush creeping up your chest. 

“Don't stop,” he moans and throws his head back with a gasp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing hard, and it's then you realise what he is doing. He is faking an orgasm. Right here. In public. In a bloody restaurant.

“Okay, Ben,” you hiss, “fine, you win the argument,” attempting to get him to stop.

But it doesn't work. His head tips back down, and two dilated pupils bore into yours, a hazy ring of blue around black.

“Do you like that?” He’s staring you down as he says it, panting slightly, his jaw firm, challenging, goading.

You want to crawl into a ball and disappear. How much of that is because your fellow diners are starting to look over versus how much your body is rioting is undetermined.

“Yesssss,” he hisses, closing his eyes and biting his lip. 

“Ben,” you warn, but again it falls on deaf ears. There is nothing you can do to stop this. Mortification routes you to the spot—that and the pounding in your ears and the little frisson of static running down your spine.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans with a tiny tilt of his body; it's enough to make your imagination run wild—places it shouldn't. Dear god, this isn't right. He is your friend, one of your best friends; you can't be thinking such things.

To distract yourself, you look around at your fellow diners apologetically, shrugging as if you don't understand what he is doing. Thankful there are no kids in sight.

“Look at me,” he commands gruffly, and without thought, you obey; your eyes tear back to his. He is doing this deliberately, goading a response from you, from your body. And something in your snaps, you won't let him win like this.

“Go ahead, do it,” you mutter through slightly clenched teeth, so quiet only he can hear it. If he is going to do this, damn him, let him. 

His hands wrap around the edges of the small table separating you, long fingers splaying out, and then his short blunt nails scratch down the wood. You don't think about those big, shapely hands doing the same thing on your body, no, definitely not. He is groaning and panting hard now, and it's utterly convincing. You can just picture him on top of….. STOP IT! You screech your mind to a halt. Don't go there.

“Come with me,” he snarls softly, just for you, and part of you wants to whisper back: yes, please, but instead, you bite the corner of your tongue to prevent a sound from escaping.

Then he turns theatrical, open hands thumping the table, grunting hard and rhythmically, and you just have to sit there and take it, so to speak. Just endure this weird mix of utter embarrassment and confusing arousal. Knowing you are flushed from head to toe. You daren't look around at the rest of the place, the buzz of conversation mostly dying out as they watch this formidable reenactment.

“Yessss, yesss, yessss,” he chants, and with a few convulsive body jerks and a long groan, his head lolls back, and he exhales a ragged breath loudly. 

There are a few seconds of silence, and then he clears his throat, straightens up in his chair, shoots you a shit-eating grin, picks up his forks and jubilantly takes a bite of his dinner. He doesn't even bother to say anything; he knows he has won that argument, fair and square. You are still too shocked and disconcerted to speak.

“Sir, Ma’am,” the maître d' is suddenly at your table, “we would like you to leave, please.” his tone is decidedly stern. After a brief exchange of glances, you both burst into spontaneous giggles.

As you are bundled out of the door unceremoniously, not even being asked to pay, you hear a man ask a waiter a question that makes you laugh even louder.

“Did he have the daily special?”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[shadowcats4]

@freddie-221b Here you go. Hope you enjoy.

This is basically the first idea @phantomlemon348 and I had for our 'Little Alec' fanfiction. And it all evolved from there.

Graphic depictions of violence

In very short: Alec has a bit of a fight with another kid called Paul

Notes:

The paper version has water drops on it to make it look like Alec cried

Charlotte and Paul are made up characters

Alec is 13, Charlotte is 15 and so is Paul

Tuesday 13.05.1982 12:49

It was the twelve o`clock break and you know how the teachers are. As soon as it´s warm they try to get you outside whatever the weather. Although it wasn`t that bad today, only cloudy. I was in my usual spot, just watching like I always do. I felt at the time I had a particularly mardy scowl on my face. But I don’t see the point anyway. My mum always tells me to smile, look friendly. Why bother when there’s nothing to smile about?

Charlotte was with her friends again, talking and laughing. Like usual, Paul went up to her and started chatting her up. I’ve noticed he’s started talking to her more and more lately. He’s new-ish at our school. I’ve heard rumours about him. All the girls think he’s handsome. I can’t stand the sight of his stupid face. I don’t know if they’ll still do, after I finished with him. I watched him lean against, his disgusting, self centered grin on his face. Just like Friday. And on Wednesday. I felt the hate and anger rising inside me again. She obviously didn’t want to talk to him. Last week she`d clearly told him to clear off and leave her alone.

He leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed him away. I felt my fingernails digging into my palms, my teeth grating so hard, my jaw hurt. Before I really knew what I was doing, I`d already started running over. He had her pinned against the wall, still trying to get her to kiss him.

I shoved him hard by the shoulder, pushing him off her. He still had his repulsive cocky smile on his face, when he sneered down at me. He was a head taller and stockier built.

He laughed scornfully, “And what are you-“

And then I wiped the expression straight from his face with a full swing of my arm, my fist into his nose. I heard a satisfying crack as he staggered back, blood gushing out from under his fingers. My knuckles throbbed with the impact. I`ve got a bruise now. I just stood there as shocked as everybody else, realising what I`d done, trying to play it cool in front of Charlotte. Breathing heavily through my mouth. Then I just straightened my uniform and wiped the blood off my hand on my trousers.

Suddenly I was pushed up against the wall. My head hit the brick, sharp pain shooting through me. There was a bright stream of red from his nose across his lips to his chin, dripping on my shirt. He lifted his fist to punch me, and I put my hands up to defend myself, but he got me once, hard on the cheek with his ring. “Hey! Get off!” I heard her voice and shortly felt Paul`s grip loosen around my collar as she tried to pull him off. A blow to the other side, my eyes watering as I saw her over Paul`s shoulder, her friends trying to keep her distanced from the fight.

I felt the blossoming pain and slight blood trickles. I really hadn`t thought this through. He was a lot stronger, and I flailed rather pathetically, attempting to land a few half-hearted punches. Another one to my cheek until I caught his hand, digging my fingernails into his wrist. He pulled my tie tighter and I started choking. He kept shoving me against the wall and I kicked his shins, hard. And I know it hurt because he was limping afterwards.

Mr. Walker pushed us apart, his voce raised and shouting, which he usually didn’t. Paul let go of me and I released his wrist that was slightly bloody. I loosened my tie and gasped in air, rubbing my neck and cracking it to a few alarmed looks from the watching crowd. I ignored them and sneered at Paul who was being held by the scruff of the neck on the other side of Mr. Walker, “See who`s going to fall for your pretty face now.” He tried lunging at me again, but he was held back.

“Smith” Mr. Walker warned sternly.

I noticed he didn’t say anything about my comment. I think he secretly agrees that Paul Smith is a twat. I felt like grinning myself stupid, but the slightest movement of my mouth made the throbbing in my cheek almost unbearable.

There`s something enormously satisfying, knowing I heard his nose crack, he`ll probably have a black eye too. Just like me. He had one of those big chunky rings so the whole right side of my face is blue.

As Mr. Walker led us away, I heard my name from a voice I thought would never address me. I`d recognise her voice anywhere, except maybe in heaven because that`s what it sounded like. I turned to see Charlotte looking at me with concern in her beautiful eyes, but I simply smiled at her. Well, it almost immediately turned into a wince, but she`s the only person worth smiling at in my little world. The only person worth the smile that comes with knowing that she somehow knows my name. I felt my heart swell and flutter in my chest. She knows my name and it was the only thing playing to the throbbing kick drum bass off the pain in my head as we walked to the headmistress` office.

We had to explain what had happened and stuff, witnesses and everything. It was very roughly like a court case on telly. It was actually quite interesting.

I had two things in my favour and two things against me:

• I started the fight • I was acting in defence of Charlotte (who fully supports my claims)

V.S.

• I broke his nose • Paul is considerably older than me and did fight back (more violently) but this could (to a certain extent) be classified as self-defence

Which means I was suspended on the spot for the next three days and got detention for the next two weeks because I was defending someone who was being harassed, but resorted to violence immediately and broke his voice. You will never hear me say that I am sorry. I won`t even think about regretting it because his stupid smug face deserved it.

Paul was suspended too, I wasn`t told how long. They immediately rang up my mum to tell her I`d been in a fight and that I`d been suspended. Of course she wanted to hear it all from me, but I didn`t want to talk about it. Not again. Mainly because my head ached and my cheek hurt and my lips felt swollen when I talked and my heart felt so light compared to my leaden body. I just wanted to be by myself. Nobody, just the beautiful silence of solitude. But if you listen often and close enough, you`ll find even it has a melody. Sometimes it sounds a bit lonely without another voice to join its song, but I`ve got used to that. I welcome its musical attempts and occasionally add my own shaking, sobbing melodies.

I came straight home; kids were staring at me in the hallway already. News like that obviously spreads fast. I just want to say, before you think I`m an arrogant idiot, I forgot to mention it earlier because I was more focused on protecting my face than acting weak. It hurt and yes, I did cry. His eyes were watering too, but I have to say I`d rather have a bruised cheek than a broken nose. I`ve read that they`re extremely painful.

The school nurse gave us each ice to keep down the swelling and I did quite well at keeping myself together. Nobody except Mr. Walker actually asked me how I was though. He had a stern word with me in the hallway and I felt the tears pricking my eyes.

I do think it was a brave thing to do. Brave maybe, but very stupid. Nothing interesting ever happens at school anyway. It`ll be the gossip of the next few days, maybe a week if we`re lucky. It`s better than who asked who out or who fancies who.

I`ve got music turned up loud because no one`s home. Mum`ll tell me to “turn that rubbish shit down” but I`m playing it while I can. My parents don`t understand good music.

I don`t know what I`ll do for the next three days. Same as now, listen to music? Read? I suppose I`m going to get house arrest too, so I can`t even go out anywhere.

All I can hear is the crack of his nose and the pain in my face. The thrill of my heart when I realised she`d said my name. My hot salty tears as I gasped for breath and the bright bloody stream down his broken face. I`m still not sorry, I won`t ever be.

[fandomwritingbit]

(bf's dad) william afton x (fem)reader pt.2!

WARNING: swearing/blasphemy. smut. oral sex (male) vaginal sex, age-gap, inappropriate relationship, guilt. sort of exhibitionism, sort of. 

NOTES: afab reader. After hiding her "session" her besie mate's Michael's dad, reader avoids them both for a couple of weeks. But Mr Afton catches her off guard in a shop shit goes down... Cameo from big tescos and another character crops up a bit later on too. 

Pt.1 here

It had been easy to move on from your night at Afton's...in practicality. You'd been able to physically leave William Afton at the door. After cleaning yourself up, post the mind-blowing sex, you'd look Mr Afton in his eyes and implored him to never mention this to Michael. He'd scoffed telling you that you'd needn't worry, his tenuous relationship with his son wouldn't be improved by bragging to him that he'd fucked you stupid against the side table in the living room. Still though, you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't engage in this inappropriate shagging again, even if the thought of his solid frame pinning you against the wall made your mouth fucking water.

And you'd stuck to it, of course not going over to Michael's again, shit not even speaking to Michael really. He'd come up to you at Uni the following day and the second his dark eyes locked on to yours - so like his father's - you were filled with guilt and the image of Mr Afton. And the worst part, you sort of enjoyed it. God, he'd asked you why you looked so tired that day, you nearly laughed: "Well mate, I'm knackered because last night when I came over to see you, your dad gave me the best fucking I’ve ever had and I stayed up all night reliving it over and over again.” Of course you didn’t really say that, you’d thought it though, so you’re pretty horrid. In reality, you’d quickly made up some excuse about staying up late doing your coursework and got the fuck out of dodge, avoiding your friend’s eye line all week. Then the week after.  And then today.

 ~

It was Tuesday evening, not that it mattered really, you were so run off with your feet with pissing work to do you weren’t really counting days: truth be told you’d almost put the whole situation out of your head. 

You’d think your local big Tesco would be quiet on a Tuesday night, but of course it wasn’t, there are fuckers everywhere, stocking up on alcohol most likely, you want to yourself but no, your budget certainly isn’t allowing that. You make your purchases as fast as the bloody queues will let you and head for the door. 

Stuck in your head as you’re leaving, you hear a crisp whistle - the kind that says ‘yoo-hoo’ as opposed to the wolf variety - and you turn, ready to tell some teenager to swivel. But no. Of course. OF FECKING COURSE. At the end of the aisle you see a chuckling Mr Afton slip just out of sight. The reminder that he existed and wasn’t just something you’d wank to, nearly made you double-take, you were close to just walking out and pretending you hadn’t seen him, but the man obligated you to approach when he re-emerged beckoning you over with a mouthed “Away, y/n.” So you went over, wrapped in a lovely blanket of nervousness.

Rounding the corner of the aisle to where he stood, you didn’t stop yourself from looking him up and down, yeah, he was still a good-looking bastard. You weren’t a jittery sort of person really, yet this man threw you so much on the back foot you couldn’t find anywhere to look. 

“I know it’s cliché: but fancy seeing you here.” He rested his elbows on the front bar of his trolley, bringing himself to your eye level, you’d forgotten what an impossibly tall fella he was. 6′6 at least, crazy in comparison to you or indeed anyone.

You weren’t exactly sure how to respond to him, eventually settling on:

“Yeah, believe me I did not expect to run into you.” You were smiling as you spoke, partially at your own embarrassment and at the stupidness of the situation - this is exactly the sort of thing that would happen to you, the universe must really have a grudge at your expense. He laughed at your curt response, the heat of your cheeks exposing your discomfort at this encounter.

“Charming. Am I really that bad? As far as I’m aware, we left on good terms.” He was teasing you, shaking his head as he spoke mockingly.

“We really did, sorry I’m just-” Just be fucking normal, you internally berate yourself, this really isn’t that shocking. “I don’t know... surprised to see you.”

He nodded, bringing the back of his thumb to his mouth as he considered your statement. There was something about silence when stood with this man that you couldn’t stand, it gave you time to think about last time: about his hands pulling you across that table by your ankles, the feel of his chest against your head as he pounded into you, good God. 

“I get that, sweetheart. Jesus, I hardly believe you’re real.” He laughed briefly before continuing, “When Michael talks about you now, I have to remind myself to behave.” The mention of Mike’s name made your eyes widen, you were lost in the effect Mr Afton had on you, it almost physically hurt to be slammed back into reality like that.

“Yeah, I can’t even look at him at the moment... He does this thing with his head as he listens to someone talking, like tilts it to the side. And you do exactly the same thing.” You looked down as you said the last part, unable to hide the slight smirk grazing your lips; seemingly knowing what you were referring to, he grinned. 

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding him then?” Yeah, mate, that really isn't the half of why you've been staying away from Mike. “He’s been complaining after you all week... to be honest I think he’s got a little crush on you.” Eyeing you up as he spoke, he watched you rub your arm in awkwardness, bloody hell you were a sweet sight to see. 

“I feel bad.” You somewhat explain, hands rising into a shrug. He moved closer to you slowly, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was about in the aisle behind the two of you, running his tongue between his lips before he spoke.

“Well...” he leaned down close to you and you gulped, the invasion of your personal space should have been unwelcomed, but it really wasn’t. Quite the opposite, you pressed your thighs together, the smell of him arousing you more than it should be possible. 

He continued; his voice low “Do you feel guilty ‘cos you did something wrong? Or because you enjoyed it?” You laughed, almost in disbelief that he said that and that when he did you felt butterflies like an idiot. Squaring up to him nearly, you kept your eyes anywhere but his as you replied shortly.

“Both. But also because I’d do again.” He was very bloody close to you now, unable to help himself once you’d said that. He felt his cock twitch against the fabric of his trousers, the idea of fucking you again driving him near crazy.

“Oh. Would you now?” His breath stroking the side of your neck as he talked. 

An old woman walking past the two of you towards the cereal aisle, reminded him of where he was and what he was doing: flirting hard with a lass half his age in a fucking Tesco, poor Ethel didn’t need to see this. He moved away from you and for a brief moment you forgot how to stand up on your own.

 Checking the time on his watch, he smiled to himself. “Did you walk here?” He asked innocently enough, somewhere subconsciously you must have been able to tell where this was going, but it hadn’t been brought into the light yet.

“Yeah. I don’t live far away.” Your eyebrows narrowed as you answered, the important part of your brain not up to speed or grasping the relevance of this question.

“It's late, I’m giving you a lift.” It was a statement not a question and you giggled at his blatant excuse to get you alone.

“Do I have a choice?” “Nah. it’s dark out. I think.” he said smirking, craning his neck to try and see over the aisle divides to a window. 

“They’re tinted windows, mate.” You laughed into the back of your hand. He nodded his head pulling a face that said, ‘yup I realise that...now’. 

“Alright.” he grinned, voice reeking of mock offence. “And how was I supposed to know that, you minx?” You shrugged, still grinning at him. “Anyway, my point stands.” 

“Isn’t this the same thing you did last time? Using my safety as a ploy to keep me around?” you enquired, doing your best to try and wind him up. It looked like it was working but in fact your cheekiness just made him want to pursue you more - he had exactly the same issue last time. 

“Yeah, and you bit then too.” He winked at you, before beginning to push his trolley out of the aisle. You shook your head, hating that it was this easy for him to make you want to follow him. For fuck’s sake you barely knew him! This was something they warned you about as a kid, really not a good idea to get in strange men’s cars, especially when they evidently have an ulterior motive: and yet you were still going to, weren’t you.

~

When he was done checking out, he met you at the door to the shop with his bag. And you follow him like a lamb to his car. It was dark and he smirked at you smugly, a mouthed “I told ya '' on his lips made you giggle as you got in his front seat. He joined you, seconds later, and that familiar feeling of nervousness crept up your spine as you were in the confined space with him. 

“Well, lovely. Where am I taking you?” He watched your face for reaction and you froze a bit, deer in headlights and all that.

“I should say: nowhere. And get out your car...” you think out loud, sitting up in your seat a bit, mock motioning to the door handle, which prompted him to press the lock button on the driver's side, rather dramatically, he just grinned, not even moving his gaze from you. Man, he’s something else, you think to yourself. Just blinking in response before you turned fully towards him in the seat, giggling mischievously.

“You’re kidnapping me?” you state, raising your eyebrows in feigned disapproval.

“I wouldn’t say that. It's more...” he paused thinking, half a smile on his face. “Smuggling. I’m not kidnapping you, just moving you from one place to another.” He ran a hand over the top of his head, chuckling, you really always had something to say. “

Ah that makes it okay then.” you say sarcastically, snickering at the look on his face. “But... stupidly I might ask if I can come to yours.” Your own audacity was really surprising you, not long-ago sharing floor with this man made you unable to string together a sentence; here you are now, a hair trigger away from saying ‘Oh aye mate, I’m after going to yours on the hope that you’ll shag the life out of me again.’ 

He didn’t say anything to you, just sniggered as he turned on his car and began making an exit. He’d really hoped that that would be your answer, God, he’d been banking on having you again, in truth there was a lot more he wanted to do to you, and he’d been thinking about it non-stop for the past fortnight.

~

The journey back to the Afton residence really wasn’t very long, only about 15 minutes due to the lack of traffic, the roads deader than that poor old Ethel in Tesco. As you began to recognise the familiar turn of the road, the stupid flitting butterflies came back; unlike last time this was a deliberate choice with the activity about to transpire on the table, in consequence you were practically buzzing with nerves just thinking about it. 

The time in between stopping the car, taking the keys and unlocking the door, and Mr Afton cornering you in his bedroom passed in a blur, maybe it was the nerves, more likely though the arousal. Let’s face it, all your cards were known and neither of you could wait much longer. 

You had so many comments to say about how boring his bedroom was, honestly it was like a showroom, no personality just bed, tv, drawers. It was very fucking clean too, you had a joke banging around in your head about his last encounter ending in a professional deep clean, but before you could demonstrate your comedic genius, your back was against the wall and his tongue was down your throat. You couldn't complain though, nor did you want to. 

There was just something about how he kissed you that knocked the air from your lungs and filled your pretty little head with cotton wool; it was embarrassing really and part of you sort of hated him for being able to do that. So, in true stubbornness you elect that this time the bastard’s not bettering you. Pulling yourself away from him, he grunts slightly at the lack of contact, his arousal evident in front of you.

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice thick with restraint, it was taking a lot for him not to grab you right now. But there was something about the mischievous glint in your eye that made him hold on - at least for now. 

“I hardly got to have a look last time. I’m doing it now.” you state, the ability to be clever gone. It was true, in your rush during your last meeting, you’d been too focused on yourself to get a proper gander at the bloke before you and there’s no time like the present. 

Though your face felt hotter than the sun, you find the courage to start undressing him, unable to glance at the snug expression leering down at you. 

“You just broke your own fucking clothes rule.” You couldn’t help but laugh, his voice was a bit too serious given what he was saying, but you suppose that’s understandable when you have what he’s thinking with in your hands. Moving to continue, he catches your arm. Clearly, he wasn’t joking about the rule because his hands are cold against your flesh, sliding under the fabric of your shirt, close enough to your waistband that your legs quiver slightly. Hooking the shirt, he pulls it from you, grinning at how your bravado had faltered a fair bit already and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“Satisfied?” You ask, the grin on your face not nearly as brave as you wanted it. The way he was looking at your chest told you the answer already, he looked hungry, and the only thought bouncing around his brain was how crazy you were driving him.

Not letting him distract you too much, you slide your hands down his torso, eventually landing at his belt, which you soon pull free. With a hum of slight amusement from above you.

“God, you’re driving me fucking mental.” He half-moaned, breaking into a slight chuckle at the sight of you, it was disbelief. Honestly, he’d only popped out for some shopping.

Perhaps you’re enjoying playing with him a bit too much because before you can even get to your knees to take this ‘exploration’ further, you can feel your knickers clinging to your slick. You hadn’t even really seen it last time, he was big, almost intimidating, and for a moment you kneel looking at him, before slowly taking hold of his cock, smirking as you dare to look at his face.

Continuing with your agenda, you take the tip of his cock in your mouth and run your tongue over it, now able to taste the precum already there. The thought of him aroused just from seeing you at the shop made a pang of want chime through you.

As you became more confident with it, taking more of him, a firm hand grabbed hold of your hair - not guiding your movement exactly, but grounding himself. You weren’t able to take all of him, but you didn’t need to, your focus on his tip and simultaneous stroking with your hands was more than enough. 

The groaning above you almost made you want to smile in a kind of dirty victory, but you keep focused on your task. You were a bit too good at this and not wanting to... ‘over-exert himself’ too soon, he pulls your head away, quickly bringing you to your feet.

“Did I offend?” you ask as he turns you from him, biting kisses down your back whilst experienced hands pull your clothes from you. It didn’t pass you by that doing so was somewhat considerate, the marks he was leaving wouldn’t be seen by anyone else, they were personal. 

“Fuck, no.” he answered finally, through a smirk. He’d stripped you so fast it could have been a magic act and now you stood, naked, save for your panties. His fingers plied under the fabric and began toying with your abundance of wetness. God, you were fucking precious, your little mewls as he played with your clit, making his cock ache. Stiffening, as he changes the patterns he draws on your bundle of nerves, you feel the pressure of your high building, he was much too good at that. Pressing his fingers into your pussy from behind, your back arches involuntarily, the mix of his digits pulling slowly in and out of you and the mean biting kiss he burned into your hip was insane. 

And before long you were so desperate that you pulled away from him with the intention of enticing him to you. But you didn’t have to, he grabbed you and turned you to face him, so quick that you giggled in his rush. 

Letting him push you back onto the bed, you can’t manage to shift a stupid smile off your face.

“God, you’re fucking precious, you.” 

You’re laying on your back and he kneels between your legs, not wanting to mess around any longer. The sight of your wet little cunt was too damn tempting and slowly stroking himself he rubs the tip of his cock between your folds, spreading your slick and laying a blanket of anticipation at the pit of your stomach.

So many dirty words were on his lips but before he could say any of them the clear sound of the front door slamming made both your heads turn. You look at him with half a grin and look back to the door to hear the sound of heavy feet clumping up the stairs: Michael was home. 

Of course he fucking was, now of all times. Not 5 minutes earlier, not 5 minutes later, now. As his dad was teasing the dripping entrance of his best friend’s needy pussy. Both breathing heavily and fuming with his arrival.

You see the older man fold his lips between his teeth, an expression of unbelieving annoyance beginning to form. But you wanted it too much, and the idea of your mate being in his room was not enough to stop you raising your hips to feel William’s cock pressing against your hole. 

A voice above you, makes you look up. “You don’t care that Michael’s home?” he teases, letting you continue rubbing against the length of his cock, having to battle with the urge to shove into you, as he knew just how thin the walls were in this shit house.

You laugh a little, “I’ll be quiet...” you try, voice as sweet as the arousal between your legs. A sudden hand grips your hips, pulling you up with ease, the tip of his dick pressing just inside you, enough to make you gasp. 

“Not if I’m doing a good job, you won’t.” He laughs, thrusting halfway inside you, making you yelp in surprise, a hand flying to your own lips. “See?” He continues chuckling, but the feeling of your walls tight gripped around him, broke him down enough to thrust shallowly inside you. His hands holding your hips to keep you still whilst he did so, the image of your lip between your teeth testing his patience.

From in his adjacent bedroom, Michael’s head piques in doubt at what he was hearing, but the realisation of the low grunts of his father mixed with a steady whimper of a lass, made his jaw drop slightly in disgust and disbelief. He turns his tv up, trying to distract himself, shaking his head.  

“I-I don’t... he won’t know it’s me...” You begin, your persuasion interrupted by the moans he plucked from your lips. “He’ll think you’ve got some random lady in here.” And that was enough for him.

Sold.

He pressed himself fully inside you, setting a slow but tantalising pace, his cock deep and brushing that fucking amazing spot inside you, that made you whine.

You’re so close already, all his teasing had paid off, and you find yourself gripping at his forearms, eager to taste your climax. Your fluttering walls give you away and the man above you smirks as he presses his thumb to your clit, circling it, slamming you into orgasm sharpish. 

“Fuckin-” you start, lost in the pleasure that coursed through your veins. You felt so fucking tight around him like that, pulsing sporadically around his cock, fucking bliss. He groans, dragging your body forward, his hips rutting against yours, fucking you through your orgasm. Near addicted to it, he pulls you so far, your lower body completely off the bed, useless to do anything but accept the pace you were given which had become rough. The sound of the two of you was accompanied by skin slapping hard against skin, the lewd noise of your cunt taking what he gave you topping it all off. You were so fucked up already and couldn’t give less of a shit at that moment, only clawing at what parts of the man you could reach. 

From across the room your phone buzzes unnoticed. Messages from Michael, relaying the events that you already, but shouldn’t have known. ‘Can’t fucking believe it’ - ‘my dad’s got some lass over and I can hear everything 😭’

God, you wanted to fucking cum again, rolling your hips to meet William's thrusts, trying his restraint. You were like a vice around him and the moaning was taking him over the edge. As much as it pained him, he pulled himself from you, grinning at your almost instant,

“What are you-” 

He takes hold of you, picking you up from the bed and dragging you across the room, slamming your desperate body against a wall, your back to him. For a moment you’re confused, not exactly complaining, but confused. 

“If he can hear it... he might as well hear it all.” he grunts into the back of your head. You’re about to protest this, but it's lost in your head when he presses back into you rough, fucking you dumb from behind. Everything else was gone, except the want to feel this man cum inside you. You were close yourself and the laboured groan against your skin, pushed you closer to your edge. His pace was hard, but becoming more erratic and greedy against you, the thump of his chasing clear as day on the other side of the wall. 

“Fuck, I’m going to-” You didn’t really need to hear the rest, cutting him off with an eager plea for him to cum inside you. He presses you flush against the wall and you smash into your climax as he hits you just right, your flexing grip triggering his own. His pace stammers as he cums, each movement accented with a near animalistic grunt. Your eyes were wide at the feeling of his release inside you and beginning to trickle down the back of your leg.

He holds you there for a moment, before slowly pulling out, wanting to see just how pretty you looked with him dripping out of you. Turning to face him, you smirk, your face hot. 

Seeing him looking at you thoughtfully, your brow raises, 

“What?” 

“We’re not done.”

~

God, long one there! 

PS: sorry Michael, even I feel kinda bad about that lmao. 

[jellyfiishatr]

Hi I heard you do Lackadaisy stuff and I'm obsessed with Rocky. Just a quick idea but how about a a near death experience (aka an average Tuesday for Rocky) confession? It can be hilarious or angsty, whichever you prefer!

a/n : I feel like near death experiences are the ONLY way rocky confesses to anything; be it that he ate your sandwich the other day, or may have accidentally lost your favorite item (also the "boss" character is made up)

☆☆☆

content : angst/fluff , romance , confession

content warning : Use of a weapon , fight scenes

" Reader! " rocky shouted as he saw you from above

" Rocky! " you screamed in horror as you ran down to where he was tied up

" Ah! My savior, you truly are a Saint reader my love! " he hummed with a stupid grin on his face.

You hit him lightly in the shoulder, concern written all over your face.

" what were you tied up for this time? "

Noticing the worried look in your eyes, he gave up the humorous front and confessed what he had done.

" good God rocky, I wonder how you've managed to live this long sometimes " you sigh, untying the rope and letting him loose.

He chuckled,

" me too sometimes.. Actually! There was this one time I was almost beste- "

Cut off, he was a little bummed out he couldn't tell you the rest of the story, hiding behind cargo.

" oh no, not this time! Everytime you get away! " a gruff voice said in an exasperated tone.

Looking for a chance to get away, you get picked up and tossed infront of the "boss" by one of his lackeys.

" Who's this? Who's sitting infront of me right now, " he questioned, studying you.

With the fire staring to be lit under you, you pull out your weapon and lunge at him. Beating him to the ground with everything you've got, taking out anyone else who tried to get to you.

Now, exhausted and all bloodied, rocky runs to be at your side and checks if you're alright,

" Reader! " he screamed, " are you hurt- ofcourse you are, what kind of question is that! "

Rambling on, you warn him before finally dozing off to watch out behind him.

" huh? " giving you a questioning look, he turns around and narrowly dodges the boss's tough punch.

" that was a close one! You should watch where you're going! " he joked lightly.

Growling, the boss grabs rocky before he gets away and knocks the sly smirk he had on his face.

Before he gets thrown around for the 10th time this week again, he screams out your name hoping you'll hear him. Interested in what he has to say as his last words, the boss let's him go on.

" Reader! I really hope you can hear me! "

looking over to your weak figure blinking slowly you groan.

" I need you to know that you're what kept me going! In moments like these- " he coughs.

" I remember I have you by my side! "

The boss laughed, " okay I've had enough of this sappy sh*t, it's time for you to go now "

You get back on your feet and pounce on the boss; screeching in pain, the both of you fall to the ground with him bleeding out from the neck.

You scream at the top of your lungs in pain from having fought even after getting beat down.

" reader.. " he whispered, as if talking any louder than that would break you.

You sat there breathing hard, lungs feeling like they're going to explode from breathing so hard. Many thoughts going through your head, giving you a great migraine.

Falling on your side, rocky slides quickly under to catch you before you hurt yourself anymore.

" reader " repeating your name as he caresses your face, he sighs and lightly gives you a kiss on the head as to not wake you up.

" my savior.. "

☆☆☆

I hope this is alright! Enjoy ♡

[sebbbongs17]

"ZOMBIELAND in 560 days," a SEVENTEEN fanfic.

Summary: A young boy realizes what has been unleashed on the world and doesn't hesitate to survive along with other boys. Oh, and with a pretty moody girl too.

Genre: Humorous horror, suggestive, angst, crack, fluff.

Warnings: Clearly blood, bites, violence, weapons, stupid deaths and some dark humor.

Pairing: ot13 x fem!reader

A/N: English is not my first language so there may be some mistakes, so please excuse me. Also, this is not going to be that descriptive, so there may be several inconsistencies and nonsensical parts, but it's all fiction. xoxo ♡

Day 1; Act I. Do you really think I would walk all the way from home to here? No way!

Chan couldn't even explain to himself the adrenaline he was feeling right now as he ran down the hill, being chased by none other than bloodied people. Yup. You hear- well, read that right.

He had thought that having read so many comics and having seen so many zombie movies and survival documentaries would help him if one day a horrible apocalypse were to break out, but now he was beginning to believe that that wasn't the case at all. Because, look at him, he was a scared boy who was still sleeping with the door open at night. And he never believed that an apocalypse could ever happen! Like ever!

But it was.

And if you're wondering how the hell he figured it out, well... It all started less than twenty minutes ago perhaps, when he went out to his yard to water his lemons before going to school, like any other day. Chan immediately felt that something was off in the air and in the environment itself. And, then his elderly neighbor climbing the fence to bite him confirmed it even more. I mean, he wouldn't have complained if it had been her hot granddaughter instead, but back to the topic..

If you're also wondering why he didn't enter his house to take shelter, the answer is simple: he stayed locked outside. So his first instinct was to run outside, like any idiot would do, isn't?

But before focusing on the running thing and talk about his wrinkled uniform, let's delay a little, yeah?

09:25 AM.

Poor Lee Chan let out a deep sigh as he walked lazily through the halls of the school, feeling like his heavy backpack would break his spinal column at any moment. Today was tuesday. A very nice and sunny tuesday indeed, but as always, none of his days weren't meant to be good.

His eyelids and damp scalp were still itchy, but he tried not to scratch too much or he was afraid of getting irritated. And all thanks to those stupid senior boys who had no better plan than to have him as a punching bag whenever they wanted, and today was no exception since they saw the option of putting his head in a toilet that had chlorine water, as fun.

And the worst thing was that in the end he was the only one sitting in the director's office, receiving absurd lectures about things he clearly didn't do. But since the man in charge of the institute was the uncle of one of Chan's main bullies, he didn't pay absolute attention to Chan but to his innocent and responsible nephew, with the excuse that they were only boy's games and that he needed to get used to it. But who in their right mind would get used to receiving flying balls on the nose on purpose during gym class or shoving against lockers or even hard slaps behind the neck every morning, among horrible insults and petnames?

What's more, who in their right mind would call that a boy's game?

Chan tried to arrange his worn uniform as best he could and opened the door of the Principal's office, not even taking 3 steps inside that the voice of the man in charge stopped him.

"Ah ah, Mr. Lee, no one comes in before knocking on the door and receiving permission," the man indicated, making a mocking gesture with his fist. Chan looked at him with some hatred before bowing slowly and subtly turning around and closing the door behind him. Knocking three times on the door loudly. "Who is?"

Chan rolled his eyes. "Lee Chan, Mister," he responded under his breath, his patience still stable.

"Oh, come in, Lee Chan." The man exclaimed in a cheerful tone which he believed was completely false, but still he entered the room, closing the door again behind him and taking a seat in front of the desk, placing his backpack on the floor. "So, Lee, what other problem is there now?"

Chan looked at him strangely and pressed his lips into a grimace.

"Ah, sir, you summoned me," he said, obvious.

"Oh yeah right, well, the reason is that I have a proposal that may interest you." Mr. Kang said, looking at him like he was some kind of gangster.

Chan nodded slowly and somewhat suspiciously since this was something new. Principal Kang never offered him anything, even if it was something bad.

"So, what do you think of being the leader of the student committee?"

The boy raised his eyebrows in surprise and disbelief. "What? Me?"

"Yeah," the man nodded.

"Why?"

"Well, ignoring the part that you are a somewhat annoying student," Chan grimaced, as that was clearly a lie. "You have good grades and according to the teachers you maintain good behavior in class and activities. So, I would like you to be leader of the committee." Mr. Kang spoke, leaning over the desk.

"What do you say?" He asked.

"Well, unless it's a joke, I'd like that very much sir!" Chan exclaimed, smiling. "But, what happened to Yeonjun?" He questioned confused.

"The boy Yeonjun has suddenly changed of school, and since it's almost the end of the year, I can't afford to leave the committee without a present leader. So, you will be some kind of temporary leader until next year," He told him, with some tiredness. "You agree?" The man looked at him exasperated.

"Yes! Of course sir!" He nodded effusively.

"Very good then! You start your position tomorrow, so come to school early. Maybe an hour or two before the usual time," he said, already indicating him with his hand to leave.

Chan stood up and grabbed his backpack, feeling his cheeks hurt a little because of the huge smile he kept.

"Oh, and Chan.." Principal Kang stopped him just before he walked through the door.

"Yes?" The boy asked.

"Try to wear a more presentable and new uniform, you will be the head of the committee, not of some street gang." He told him, making a slight face, looking at his faded clothes.

Chan furrowed his eyebrows before nodding furtively.

"I sure will, sir, thank you!" He exclaimed before running out of there, smiling happily again.

He couldn't believe that finally the opportunity to be part of the committee, in fact, LEADER of the committee, had come to him. He had wanted to be one for several years, but strangely he had never been chosen no matter how high his grades were and instead, a boy from his same year, Choi Yeonjun, was chosen.

Chan was walking so happy through the hallways that he didn't pay attention to the mocking comments of his bullies, nor so much to the tremendous slap that one of them give him in the back of the head.

The boy left just in time when the bell rang indicated the end of the classes, causing scores of students to pile up the stairs to leave. As he made his way down the sidewalk, Chan visualized a group of three boys, one of them being the famous Kim Sunwoo, who seemed to be playing with what appeared to be a poor dead or almost dead animal, presumably a deer. He unconsciously formed a grimace of disgust, as these three fools laughed while poking the deer with sticks.

Suddenly, Sunwoo noticed Chan's displeased look, and quickly gave him a dirty look. "What the hell are you looking at, Lee? Go wait for your mommy somewhere else, worm," Sunwoo said in a mocking and rude manner, causing the silly laughter of his friends.

Chan just rolled his eyes slightly and just started his way home, trying to ease his bitterness by remembering that he would now be part of the committee. And looking forward to tomorrow...

Present.

Chan felt that at any moment his lungs would give away but surprisingly they didn't. Turning back, he saw how the bloodied ones were diverted and instead, they were going to attack another neighbor, who was just collecting his mail.

Hearing the poor guy's screams of horror and pain, Chan turned onto the last street. Which, ha!, had no way out. Great.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." He muttered agitatedly, looking back several times just in case.

Where the hell he was supposed to go right now? To the city? No, he didn't know if it was safe or not at this point. The countryside? Could be a possibility, but he didn't want to go alone.

He stood still for about two seconds before his mind clicked. Chan desperately seek through his pockets and let out a sigh of relief when he felt his phone in one of them. With trembling fingers he scrolled through the contact list and hesitantly pressed one of it.

1 ring...

2 ring...

3 ring...

"Hello?" A raspy and lazy voice was heard from the other line.

"HYUNG! Thank god! Where are you? You're ok? Nobody bite you, right? Tell me that you're safe right now..." Chan muttered at the speed of light.

"Chan, what the hell are you talking about? Why would someone bite me?"

"There's no time to explain, Jeonghan-ah! Whatever you do, don't leave your house and close the windows and doors with locks and cover them as much as possible," he indicated, starting to walk around.

"Woah, woah! Calm down kiddo. What's going on? Also, I can't do any of that since I'm not at home right now," Jeonghan muttered softly, not caring at all why Chan wanted him to do that.

"Huh?! Where are you then?!" The boy groaned against the phone.

"At the supermarket," he simply responded.

"Damn it... OK. Tell me which one. You have your car with you, isn't?" Chan's knees shook and almost best towards the floor due to nervousness, but he was able to straighten himself up.

"Obviously. Do you really think I would walk all the way from home to here? No way!" Jeonghan giggle, making Chan roll his eyes. "I'm on the Sansok one..." He finally told him after.

"Alright, don't move from there hyung! And don't interact with anyone, I'm on my way!" Chan said and without waiting for the older man to respond, he hung up and turned around, seeing where he could go.

The boy's head stuttered in various directions as he barely spotted a bicycle near the porche of one of the houses. Chan carefully reached out and took it, beginning to pedal clumsily, almost falling in the process.

Briefly thinking about how he was wearing his new uniform in vain today.

[•••]

The brunette sighed heavily as he put his phone back in his pocket.

"Who was it?" The other boy questioned, without looking at him, while continuing to examine the cereal boxes. 

"It was Channie. He sounded a little... weirded out," Jeonghan responded, dropping his weight onto the shopping cart.

"You asked him what was wrong? Maybe he had another nightmare again..." The guy finally turned to look at him as he was wearing a worried frown. "Or perhaps he smoked again that strange weed Soonyoung gave him."

"Oh, don't worry, Shua. It didn't seem like that... Well, actually, he didn't give me many convenient details. But I told him to come here if he was so worried," humming, Jeonghan walked to the ice cream section, closely followed by Joshua.