#benny's big score

[ncttytrack]

Valedictorian - l.hs (m)

He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it. 

☆ Summary: Heeseung is your sworn enemy and you hate everything about him. You hate how he looks, you hate the fact that he gets better grades than you, and you hate the way he makes you cry. The problem however, is that you are his favorite plaything, and he couldn't get enough of you.

☆ Genre: Academicrival!Heeseung, Badboy!Heeseung, nerdy!reader, virgin!reader, SMUT

☆ Words: 5,2k+

☆ Warnings: Dacryphilia, a looot of crying, Dom!Heeseung, Sub!Reader, Manipulation, Heeseung is super mean, degradation (praising in the end though), chocking

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You had always been at the top of your class, getting straight A’s throughout all of high school. You didn’t care that you never went to parties, never talked to boys, or the fact that everyone calls you ‘teachers pet’ behind your back. It’s you who are going to have the bright future you have always dreamt of, and not them. And, if you are at the top of your class at the end of high school, the valedictorian title would be yours, and the dream of attending a top university would be achieved. But it was one person that was ruining everything for you. 

Lee Heeseung. Even his name makes your blood boil. Lee Heeseung. Leeee. Heeeeseung. Urgh. He wasn’t always there, and oh you wish you could turn back time to freshman year when he wasn’t present in your life. When you first saw him, you didn’t think he was much more than a low-lifer like your other classmates. Black hair, eyeliner, tight black clothing? Ah so an emo then, probably too depressed to be good at school, spending all day rutting in his room listening to mcr. Or he was maybe a bad boy, spending all his weekends on parties and fucking girls without even knowing their name.

But you were so wrong.

You clearly remember the day when you realized Heeseung might even be smarter than you, which was also the first day you talked to him. You had just got back the result from a massive math test, and of course you got an A. You triumphantly look at your score, 96/100, not bad - you thought, could definitely be better, but surely no one else got as high of a score as you did. That’s what you thought until you squinted at Heeseungs table beside yours. 

Down on his desk you saw his exam paper, and you could not believe your eyes. To make sure you saw right, you adjusted your thick glasses. 100/100. What? How is that even possible? Was Heeseung a nerd?

Not realizing that your stare caught his eye, you get surprised when his voice interrupts your thoughts. “Jealous? People have told me a lot about you.” Wtf? You get startled by his dark voice, looking up at Heeseungs dark orbs with an irritated expression. You observe him. His body is tilted back against his chair, legs spread wide - as if he wants to show off his dominance. His ripped jeans and the shirt he was wearing was both black, which is the color he always wears. His black hair was peeking out from the same coloured bennie, and his ear was covered with silver piercings. You hate the fact that his bad-boy-emo persona makes your heart skip a quick beat. He is so annoyingly good looking that it hurts, hurts even more now that you know he is a smart asshole. 

“What the fuck did you say”, you say, trying to sound intimidating even while wearing your thick nerdy glasses. People have told things about me? What? His lips turn into a smirk, and with his elbow on the table in front of him, he leans his head down on his hand. His eyes look at you up and down to take in your appearance. You are wearing a neatly ironed shirt, paired with a pastel yellow thick sweater and a pleated skirt just above the knees. The skirt looks way too big for you, and way too long. How old were you, fifty? The tights that you were wearing were thick, making anyone unable to see your skin through the fabric, and your hair was far from styled - messy, as if you just woke up. Probably were up all night studying for the test he aced. You looked like a nerdy-virgin (which you were), and he couldn’t help but to imagine what you would look like under all that clothing. 

“Well, that you were supposed to be this wannabe smart-ass, and annoying, really…” Oh so he is not just a nerd, but also an asshole. In frustration you turn your whole body facing him, before standing up so you can look down on him - getting the upper hand. With a hand on your hip and another on your glasses, you really do look like a smart-ass. “So, what? Are you saying I'm not smart?” He chuckles at your attempt in challenging him and stands up, looking down at you. He tilts his head and pouts his lips at you. Fuck he is tall. Embarrassingly, you look down at your feet and begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. No boy has never been this close to you, especially someone like him, someone bad. 

“Maybe you are, but you are nothing compared to me, bunny”. Bunny. Ah hell nah. You quickly look up at him again with furrowed brows, oozing with anger. Did he just use a pet name on you? How dare he look down at you like this, and how dare he try to flirt with you. “Please, everyone knows that I am going to be valedictorian, dick” You say and cross your arms in front of your chest, puffing out air and looking to the side to avoid his gaze. What you don’t know however, is how your arms in front of your chest pushes your boobs up, making Heeseung able to look down your shirt. “Let’s see who gets that title, Sweetheart.” He bites his lips to hide the laugh he lets out, enjoying the state you are in right now. “By the way, cute bra. I love the color blue” he says and walks out of the classroom leaving you speechless. You look down. Fuck. You didn’t know that one of the buttons had opened up when you crossed your arms. You will never wear stupid this bra again.

This was just the beginning, and during the last years of high school Heeseung could not stop bothering you. And as the times passed, the hatred for Heeseung increased. The way he looked at you teasingly when you got something wrong in class makes you want to vomit, the way he would brag when he got a better grade, makes you want to punch him hard right in his face and the way he was watching you throughout class, making it impossible to concentrate, makes you want to scream in his face.

But that was not even the worst thing about him. He knew he was hot, and he knew that you thought so too. Therefore, at least once a day he would embarrass you, torment you, flirt with you. How could someone be this bad, this sinful disturbing a girl like you. He would always sit beside you in every class, even though you protested him not to. Occasionally you would feel his hand on your thigh sliding up and down, making you shiver. You would always immediately slap his hand away, ignoring him throughout the day. What was his deal? 

Another day you remember clearly, exactly a year after first talking to Heeseung. You were starting to get used by his daily torment, almost getting immune from his mean comments. I guess he wanted to step it up a notch, and decided to do it during a presentation in English. You were as prepared as you could be, wearing a neatly ironed blazer and a hair up in a ponytail to look professional during your speech. Your speech cards were decorated with blue paper, perfectly organized in order for you to ace the speech in front of your classmates. 

The teacher called up your name, you got to the front, and started talking. You were good, so good, and you could see the anticipation throughout the class. Your flow was on point, not showing a single sign of nervousness. That was until you met Heeseungs gaze in the back of the classroom. Heeseung hated to see you succeed, including this geeky english speech. He was even more annoyed when he saw what you were wearing. Again with the try-hard-good-girl clothing. The blazer? Too big. And could you not let your hair out for a single day? Nonetheless, he got bored doing nothing but listening to your nonsense, his speech was better anyways, but he couldn’t let you go away unbothered. 

With his legs wide apart, and a hand on his thigh he looked at you, smirking - licking his lips even. You begin to stutter with your words, losing the confidence you built up for the presentation over the last four days. You couldn’t look away, and continued to watch Heeseung grace his veiny hand up and down his leg. Everyone else noticed that there was something up with you - the top student stuttering during a graded speech? Still, you continued - and tried to calm yourself down, until you met his eyes once again. Now, he was sending you a wink, while biting his lips. You unwillingly let out a surprised gasp, his actions making you drop all your cards on the floor. In panic, you quickly let out a weak “sorry..”, before dropping down on your knees, picking up all the cards. 

The teacher looked at you concerned, “Are you sure you don’t want to do the speech again?” You looked down on your feet, too scared to look up knowing who is watching you. “No, it’s okay”, you say before storming out of the classroom. While you do so, you look back to see a laughing Heeseung.

Since then Heeseung could never stop bother you, he loved to see you so worked up. He loved the face you would make when seeing his result on a test, he loved how irritated you became when he talked loudly with his friends about how much better he was than you. But he also loved how quiet you would be when teasing you. Seeing your flushed face when being touchy, stuttering when he lowered his face towards your neck to whisper something in your ear, only for him to say how much of a loser you were - making you punch him away. He never knew that the nerdy-virgin thing you had going on would turn him on, but maybe it did. And he needed to do something about it. 

“Man, why are you always staring at her? Give her a break” Jake says, looking at Heeseung. He was sitting at a table eating lunch in the cafeteria with his closest friends. He had known all of them throughout high school, and they were even close now in senior year. They also knew his obsession with teasing, as Heesung himself likes to call you, his ‘loser classmate’. He looked at you, you were sitting alone reading a book - as always, eating a sandwich your mom probably made. You were wearing the same ugly skirt you always wore, with a blouse that was way too big. The thick glasses that were helping you read your boring history book, were resting low on your nose bridge. Sensing that someone was watching you, you looked up only to see Lee Heeseung staring at you. Urgh, Why does he always do this? He smirks when you look at him, biting his lips to make you nervous. As irritated it makes you - it works, making you look down at your History book you were reading for the massive test later the same week. 

Heeseung lets out a chuckle when Sunghoon punches his arm. “You sure love to tease her, why do you even do that anyways”. Heeseung looks at him and cocks an eyebrow, as if the answer to his question isn’t obvious. How can you resist making fun of something like that? “Because she is a loser, and the way she acts when I tease her is way too enjoyable for me to stop?” He says and takes a sip out of the cola in front of him, still staring at you. “Hmm, I don’t know Heeseung. Maybe she has a freaky side, all nerds do” Jay says and turns around to look back at you. Jay also staring at you is too much for you to bear, so you quickly gather your things and leave, looking back at Heeseungs table. That was when Heeseung got an idea, something that would sure really rile you up. 

“Of course she has a freaky side, Jay. Haven’t you heard?” He says and looks at the others. With wide eyes the boys look at each other, shaking their heads. “No, bro, what do you mean? '' Jake says with a curious expression, always a sucker for some high school gossip. Heesung signals them to lean in so he could whisper, and they do. “Last week y/n got a B on a super important math test - oh you should’ve seen her face, and because she was so desperate to get an A, she gave Mr.Park a blow job after the lesson in his office.” He lied, of course. He knew that you got an A from that test and would never suck off a teacher. But he can just imagine the look on your face when you find out about the nasty rumor. His friends let out a big gasp at his words, not believing that the school's good girl did something like that to get a better grade. “ No way dude, you are lying”, Jay says and punches Heeseungs chest. Heeseung brings his hands in front of his chest to defend himself. “No, trust me! I saw everything.” 

The rumor spread like wildfire, and It didn’t take long before everyone knew about it, including you. You already knew who would come up with something like this, and that’s why you are running towards the library to find him. He may have made everyone in school think that you went down on your teacher for a better grade, but oh but you were not going down without a fight. You hurriedly run down the hall towards the library.

With tears embarrassingly streaming down your face, you run up to Heeseung and his friends in the library. He looks up at you with a cocky expression, laughing when he sees your tears behind your thick glasses. He looks at Jake, “Do you see her? The way she cries? So embarrassing” You are now standing right infront of him. He continues, “What do you want? Do you want to suck me off too, bunny?” You swallow down your saliva, gaining courage to look deep into his eyes. “Stand up Heeseung” You say, your hands formed in fists. He looks around at his friends, laughing, before standing up crossing his arms in front of his chest. Heeseung looks down at you. You are wearing the same thing you wore the first day he talked to you, although now the sleeves on your shirt is wet from wiping your tears. Your face is red and puffy from crying, and small parts of your mascara are now under your eyes. He towered over you, making you feel small and fragile. But that was not going to stop you from standing up to yourself though.

“Why did you spread a rumor about me sucking off Mr.Park for a better grade?” You say, still looking at Heeseung. He lets out a chuckle and tilts his head to the side. He walks up to you, getting closer with any second. “Who said that was a rumor? What I know is that you went down on your fragile little knees and wrapped your dirty little mouth around Mr.Parks cock. I heard you were good too, really knowing how to use that soft tongue, and here I thought you were a virgin. Maybe you want to show me how you did it? Of coarse if you are even able to fit my massive cock in your mouth” 

Oh he was sooo dead. “What the fuck did you say to me?!” You scream at him, punching him in his stomach. He lets out a grunt from the pain. Right after, he grabs your wrist and lifts it up - almost making your feet leave the ground. You breath hitched, surprised by his sudden movement. His face is close to yours, making you feel his hot breath on your face. “Did you just fucking punch me?” If you thought Heeseung was scarry before, it was nothing compared to now. You immediately regretted punching him. Before the conflict could escalate any further, a teacher stormed into the library and separated both of you. “What is going on here? Y/n I thought higher of you, and Heeseung, why are you threatening another student! Detention, after school, both of you!” She says and storms away.

Detention. No way. You look up at Heeseung with tears in your eyes. “This is your fucking fault.” He only looks at you with a smirk on his face. “Let’s settle this in detention sweetheart” 

You were already crying when you walked to detention. You hate Heeseung. Hate the fact that he is so smart, even getting better results than you - probably making him earn the valedictorian title instead of you. You hate the way he looks. How can someone be so smart and look like that? Dressed in all black, eyes coated with black eyeliner, hair covered in a dirty beanie, his stupid piercing that made him look like a bad boy, stupid combat boots that would echo the halls when he stomped his feet on the ground, how stupid you felt for thinking he was hot, stupid, stupid, stupid! 

The classroom is completely quiet, the only people in detention being you, Heeseung and the teacher guarding you. You had brought your history book, still studying for the same history test - at least you were productive to keep your grades up. But still, this bothered you. Of course it was only you Heeseung in detention, wouldn't it be other students too? At least then you wouldn’t have to be alone with him. As if the devil heard you complain, the teacher suddenly stood up from her chair. “I’m just going down for a coffee break, don’t do anything stupid - I’ll be back in twenty minutes” She says and walks out, slamming the door after her. The classroom was at first completely quiet, before someone spoke up. 

“Twenty minutes?" That is a looong time”. You look besides you at Heeseung from across the classroom. His body is facing you and his hand is on his thigh, creeping up closer to his cock, the same way he did during your speech that one time. You were already weak, unable to look away from the thing you swore you hate. His tight ripped jeans hugging his thighs perfectly makes your mouth water, but the way he looks at you makes you want to run away. Stop it y/n! He is doing this on purpose! You were already trembling, your feet bouncing against the floor while biting your nails anxiously. You tried to read your book, tried to concentrate on the French revolution you were supposed to have a test on, but Heeseungs gaze was - something. 

Heeseung stands up from his chair, walking towards you until he is right beside you. You glance at him behind your glasses, still trying to concentrate on your studies, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach. You really are a loser, only his presence makes you want to cry. “Look at me, bunny” He says and licks his lips. Oh, he loves this. Loves how he can see your bottom lip tremble. You didn’t look at him however, still reading your book. 

Irritated, he pokes the inside off his cheek with his tongue, and lets out a sigh before grabbing your chin, almost lifting up your entire body using his strength. The chair you were sitting on falls to the ground from his movement. Tears are already forming in your eyes, before sliding down your cheeks. Why is he so scary? “I said look at me? What is it in that demand that you don’t understand, sweetheart?” He says and backs you up, still holding your chin, making you sit on the desk behind you. You bite your lips trying to muffle your cries, but it was no use, Heeseung could still see how scared you were from your tears. “T-this is unfair!” you try to let out between hiccups, your thighs clenching together from being this close to your sworn enemy. Being this close to him, you are able to smell him - a mix of mens perfume and sweat filling up your nostrils. 

Heeseung looks down on you with furrowed eyebrows, he slides his thumb across your swollen lips. Damn you cry all the time, is it this easy to make you upset? “What is unfair, baby?” He says, trying to sound sweet, even though he is forcing you in this position, the thumb leaving your lip so he can wrap his hand around your neck. You let out a yelp, which makes him chuckle. Through sobs you try to let out an answer. “It’s unfair how much I've fought to be at the top of my class, only for you to barge in and be better than me. Not only that but you're so mean to me, using your strength to force me like this” 

First, he doesn’t answer, suddenly putting his hand on your thigh to spread them apart. You don’t even try to fight back anymore, lost in the way he looks at you. Heeseung grabs the end of your long skirt, and pushes it up to your thighs. “Mhm, using my strength to force you? Am I forcing you baby?” He says and bites his lips, his hand still playing with the hem of your ugly rolled up skirt. He tilts his head, and the hand leaves the front of your neck to pull out the ponytail you were wearing, letting your hair down. “I know how you look at me. Probably loving the idea of a bad-boy fucking the nerdy good girl up, making you sweat, making you tremble with my touch” The hand leaves your head and wraps around your neck again but from the back. His other hand is closing up towards your inner thigh, and the closer he gets to your core - the heavier your breathing gets. 

“That’s not true, I could never find someone as irritating, mean, annoying as you attractive. Even though your tal frame, your strength, and your black silhouette would make any other girl fall, I’m not like the others” He chuckles at your statement, you just exposed yourself by the way you described him. Suddenly, he leans down towards your neck, giving you kisses with his soft lips. The sudden contact, that you had never experienced before, makes you bring up your hands to Heeseungs chest to grab his shirt, trying to push him away. But he is too strong, and your grip loosens when you feel his other hand just above your core. 

You unwillingly let out a moan at the feeling. What is going on? “Oh, are you not? So you don’t like it when I touch you like this?” He says, pressing his fingers harder down against your clit, making your back arch. The humiliation is too much, and your entire face is wet from the crying. You hate how weak he makes you feel, and how much you know he can do to you, and how much you would let him. Your glasses are getting foggy, making Heeseung chuckle, before taking them off. The sight of your teary eyes without your glasses makes his cock twitch. “Aw, baby, don’t cry. I’m going to take care of you, bunny” 

You pathetically nod your head, before letting out a high-pitched moan at the feeling of his finger on your clit, making soft circles through the fabric. Only this could bring you over the edge, this being the first time someone touched you. Heeseung let out a chuckle when seeing how desperate you were, making him want to push you even further. Therefore, he stopped touching your clit to pull off your thighs under your skirt. “No- stop!” You say, trying to push him away for the last time, even though you secretly want him to continue. You can’t let someone like him touch you like this, your reputation would be ruined. 

“What baby, you want me to stop?” He says, while pulling off your panties and letting his finger come in contact with your bare skin. You don’t answer, too busy letting out sweet moans from his touch. God he was good at this. Your hand leaves his chest, and grabs his shoulders to keep yourself from falling back out of pleasure. Heeseungs other hand begins to button up your blouse, laughing when he sees the same blue bra you were wearing at your first encounter. 

“If you want me to continue, you have to actually beg for it bunny” Heeseung says, laughing in your face at the whine you let out when he stops touching your clit. Desperate to feel pleasure, desperate for his touch, desperate for him, you unwillingly get down on your knees in front of him. Heeseung gets surprised by this, thinking you would never do what he says. 

Through ugly cries, tears running down your cheeks in desperation, you clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look up at the man in front of you. Because of your open blouse, the tears from your eyes run down your neck, between your boobs, something that Heeseung can’t keep his eyes away from. He always adored your cries, definitely if it came because of him, definitely if it made you look like this. “Please Heeseung, please”

You sure knew how to beg like a bitch.  

“Don’t worry bunny, I’m going to take care of my nerd real good” He grabs the back of your hair and pulls you up to your feet- earning a loud whine from the pain you feel in your scalp. He flips you around so your back is against his chest and punches you down on the wooden desk, while throwing away your history book with his other hand. You let out a pathetic cough from the hard impact from the fall, feeling the air being pushed out from your chest. Knowing he does not have a lot of time to fuck you, Heeseung quickly wraps the hem of your skirt, dragging it down to your ankles. The sight of your bare skin makes him let out a groan, making you wet. He unbuttons his pants, pulling them down alongside with his boxers to let his hard cock free. He looks at the clock on the wall beside him, 10 minutes before the teacher gets back. 

The contact of his cock against your wet folds makes your knees buckle, only being able to stand up from the grip Heeseung have on your waist. The embarrassment you are feeling is still making you cry, feeling defeated with your bare ass up in the air in front of the biggest asshole you have ever met. Heeseung leaves his hand from your waist up to your mouth to cover your cries, he was maybe an asshole but he doesn’t want to get caught.  

Before you could protest any further, he pushes himself into you, making you cry out of pain and pleasure. He was massive, and if you weren't so wet already from his harsh words, then you would never be able to take all of him. “Shh, shh, bunny, I’m going to be careful alright? I know it’s your first time taking cock”, he says, while pushing in and out of you slowly. Everytime he pushes himself into you, your back arch, making Heeseung let out a chuckle from your pathetic movements.

The only sound coming from the classroom was your muffled cries alongside with wet slapping sounds from the way Heeseung fucks into you. But Heeseung can’t resist, he needs to hear more of you, so he removes his hand from your mouth so you can let out your moans free. When he does, he grabs your waist again, stabilize himself, before fucking harder into you - getting impatient by treating you like a fragile doll. 

His cock is hitting into you as deep as it could go, making you let out a loud cry. It's painful and you can’t feel more disgusting than what you already do, pushing back to make him go even deeper. He lets out a loud groan from your sudden movement. How did he turn this nerdy good girl into something so nasty? 

“You’re such a dirty girl, y/n” Heeseung says, not slowing down his pace. Too lost in the pleasure you agree, giving him a weak nod between moans. “Tell me you are dirty, say it!” He says, feeling how he gets closer and closer by any minute, looking at the clock between thrusts to make sure you don’t get caught. “Im a d-dirty girl, Heeseungie” The way you say his name could make him cum then and there, but for your sake he tries to hold back. 

He lets out a laugh at your response, realizing that he finally got you under his spell. “Say how much better I am than you, tell me that you are nothing, nothing more than my little nerdy loser to play with, say it bunny” Heeseung says, slapping your ass right after, making you cry even harder. The pain, the pleasure, the fury you feel inside of you is making your head fuzzy, not caring if the words you are about to say will make you look pathetic. “Yes! You are so much better than me, I’m nothing except yours Hee!”

The guilt you feel inside your chest is almost unbearable. Your worst enemy had just made you swallow your pride while fucking roughly into you over the schooldesk in an empty classroom. All this work to seem like a good girl, wasted, only to get dicked down by someone who makes you cry every night. He has taken everything from you, your virginity, your confidence, not to mention the dream to become valedictorian. Heeseung can feel the shame oozing out of you, and he hugs your body from behind to get a stronger grip so he can fuck into you harder. You feel his sweaty, muscular, chest against your back, and you lean your head back against his shoulder to feel some sort of comfort.

 “Fuck yes, your mine alright baby? Now cum all over my cock” He says, fastening his pace. You cum because of his words, his commands, and the feeling of your juices covering his cock brings him over the edge, making him cum as well. He doesn’t pull out however, fucking his cum into you for a few seconds before realizing that the teacher is back in any seconds. 

Heeseung pushes your body away from him, and you are too weak to stand so you fall down on the hard floor. Your whole body hurts, and you try to use your strength to stand back up, until you feel Heeseungs arms wrap around your body. He helps you to pull on your clothes, helping you sit down in your chair as he brushes your sweaty hair away from your red face. “You were so good baby, so good for me”. He says as he gives you your thick glasses, dirty from being on the floor. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, and rubs your cheek with his thumb. “You are mine now bunny, understand?” You give him a weak nod, before he walks away to his desk.

When the teacher got back, she had no idea that the schools ‘good girl’ finally got ruined by her worst nightmare.

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Finally another fic! Rebloggs are really appreciated :)

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: I

Chapter One: Signed and Sealed

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 4,353

Content Warning: Not smut yet (apologies), references to SA, drugs, violence, threats of violence, crime, food talk, weight talk

Author's Notes: An everlasting and beautiful thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for their never-ending THOTs, hot takes, and for beta'ing this. Your support is why I adore this platform - Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜 Y'all say thank you to Nevy for basically brainstorming this with me!

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry.

I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! 👌

--------<3---------

The reality of the situation was hitting you hard. Your older brother, the one most would think of as a protector, had betrayed you in the worst way imaginable.  

He had a drug problem for the majority of his adult life, but now it had become a full-blown catastrophe. Steven, your brother, owed money to some of the worst people in the state, maybe even the country. The Frontiersmen, a powerful syndicate, had allowed him to rack up a ridiculous debt that they knew he wouldn’t be able to pay, but you didn’t know what he’d put down as collateral – you. 

You were now nothing more than a bargaining chip to prolong your brother’s coke problem and buy him more credit. You were now property being handed over to a terrifying group of men who made a profit off of people’s darkest needs. 

“I know... I know I fucked up... I know I did.”, Steven sobbed into his hands in front of you. “I thought I’d be able to pay them back...” 

You sat in your living room, numb to it all, watching Steven cry. You knew he was sorry now, but you doubted it was because of what he’d done to you. No, you were sure it had more to do with the fact that the Frontiersmen had cut him off until he paid his debt. Until you were turned over to pay that debt. 

You weren't sure if it was minutes or hours that you sat and watched him sob in your living room, but it was interrupted by a knock at your door. Your head took a minute to process that your body was already moving and opening the door. 

Standing in front of you was a tall, blond man and a shorter, dark haired man. Both their eyes were on you in cold stares. You just stared right back. You guessed who they were, or at least what they were doing here at your apartment. Wordlessly, you stepped aside and opened the door to allow them entrance.  

The taller, blond man moved passed you and into the living room while the smaller, dark haired man waited for you to move so he could close the door and lock it. 

You gave him a curt smile and nod, stepping back away from the door.  

After closing the door, he turned around and looked you up and down, with a small, yet menacing smile. He huffed in a dry laugh before motioning you to the living room. 

A sour feeling washed over you and your mouth salivated like you were going to be sick, but you looked down and walked into the living room where your brother was on his knees in front of the blond man. 

“... so she had no idea you signed her life away?”, the blond man scowled then turned to look at you. 

His icy stare caused you to shrink and wrap your arms around yourself.  You stepped back, bumping into the shorter, dark haired man. His hands came to your arms gently and he held you in place. 

“Benny...”, he warned in a low tone. “We came here for two things: payment and a reminder.” 

Your body trembled in his hold, and he rubbed your arms gently. You knew better than to believe he actually gave a shit about you, and he was more than likely doing this to get you to go with them without making a scene. You weren't going to resist; their reputation was more than enough incentive to go quietly. 

“He’s a shitbag, Pope... fucking sold out his sister!”, he barks, his eyes narrowing at you, then snapping to the other man while he motioned his hand at you. “She didn’t even know!” 

“Payment, Benny!”, Pope spoke sharply. “Payment and a reminder. That’s it.” 

You jumped when Pope’s volume increased but stayed in place, and Benny looked at you again, his eyes now reading more furious than cold. 

You swallowed thickly, the lump in your throat growing, and looked down.  

“I’ll fucking remind this sonofabitch...”, Benny muttered as pulled out a rag and wrapped it around his fist. 

Your lip trembled and Pope’s hands stopped their gentle rubbing, and he held your arms a little firmer, pulling you back against him. 

“You don’t need to see this, honey.”, he said softly in your ear, causing you to shudder at the warmth and tenor of his voice. “Unless you want to...” 

You kept your gaze low, not noticing the look of remorse and sympathy Benny gave you as you shook your head.  

“Come on then.”, Pope said softly, turning you around and tilting your face up to his with his finger and thumb on your chin. “Are you gonna behave or do I have to cuff you?” 

Your eyes widened and your body’s trembling intensified; you shook your head and squeaked out, “I... I’ll behave.” 

Pope smiled at you, eyes roving over your face, and he nodded. “Let’s get some things packed up for you and head to the car.” 

He watched as your shaky hands packed a bag in your bedroom; clothing, toiletries and personal items. He confiscated your cell phone and laptop, saying that they had to be secured first and you might get them back.  He picked up your packed back and led you to the door. 

The last thing you heard as Pope led you out was the sickening sound of a fist hitting flesh and Steven scream. 

***** 

Frankie was a reluctant leader. He didn’t ask to be put in charge, but his strategic problem solving, and his restrained demeanor worked in his favour to put him at the top. 

Since Tom was taken out, both Pope and Will had said that Frankie was the best choice to lead the Frontiersmen if he gave up his coke habit. Kicking that was easy; the hard part was filling the void that was left. But he found something with relative ease. 

Will watched Frankie as he finished his large pizza; he was now used to watching Frankie eat in their meetings. He’d watched as Frankie had gone from being a lean and muscled soldier with an angular face to what the new leadership role had carved him into over the past few years – big. His thick and muscled arms stretched his sleeves, his face was fuller with a patchy beard, and big belly pulled every shirt he owned taut around the middle when he hadn’t eaten to capacity. Despite his weight gain, Will was glad his friend and boss was off the smack. 

“Where’s Pope and Benny?”, Frankie asked between bites. 

“Picking up payment from that skid, Steven. Not money.”, Will said, eyes down in his notes, avoiding Frankie’s questioning look. 

“Not money?” 

“The collateral he put his debt against.”, Will said in a blunt tone, hoping to move on before having to elaborate. “We have a few things we need to iron out when they get back...” 

“Collateral but not money?”, Frankie asked again in a firmer tone. “Explain what the fuck that means.” 

Will sighed. This ‘collateral’ was a holdover from when Tom was in charge, and despite him not liking it, he felt it necessary to hold Steven accountable and take what they were owed; he agreed to the decision with Pope to move forward, and they were both going to tell Frankie about it. But Pope wasn’t back yet, and it was left to Will. 

“It’s not money.”, Will said, avoiding Frankie’s raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah... I got that. So, what is it?” 

“His sister.” 

Frankie groaned and put his head in his hands. “Please, for the love of god, tell me Pope isn’t bringing back a person in lieu of payment.” 

“He is.” Will kept his eyes low. He knew he and Santi were taking a risk doing this, especially given they were going above Frankie’s head. But they also knew that Frankie needed to put fear in the minds of anyone who had a debt to pay. 

Frankie’s jaw tightened and he sat back and looked at Will. 

“Will.”, he barked. “Look at me and tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

“It’s an old contract we had with this guy... it was done up under Tom.”, Will paused, then sat forward, hardening his tone. “Look, Pope made the call and I agreed. You need to scare the people that owe you money; you need to collect on your debts. People are starting to think you’re going soft, Fish.” 

It wasn’t a lie. Frankie was more lenient than Tom was, allowing for extensions and lighter repercussions. There were more people willing to deal with late penalties than actually pay, and Will didn’t want this to get out of hand. He just wished Pope was here to tell Frankie himself. 

“Fuck.”, Frankie snapped. “Maybe so, Will, but we’re not human traffickers! We don’t take people!” 

“Steven has a big mouth. He’s not going to sit on this. He's going to run his mouth, looking for help to get her back. Words going to get out that you – YOU, Frankie – took his fucking sister. He’s not going to tell anyone that he put her down as collateral. He’s going to paint you as the asshole who took what he was owed. It’s good PR.”  

Will sat back, hoping this would be enough to keep Frankie from losing his shit. 

“So, we took some girl because this fucking skid couldn’t pay.”, Frankie spat out, clenching his fist. He raised his voice, yelling, “And my name gets dragged through the mud as the fucker who called for it?” 

Will raised his hands, trying to calm him. “Your reputation as someone not willing to let debts go unpaid is solidified, Fish.” 

Frankie sat back, aghast. His mind suddenly went to Steven’s sister.  

“Did she know?” 

Will looked down at his notebook, then up again. “I don’t think so. Pope messaged and said she was pretty shook up.” 

Frankie let out a heavy sigh and put his head back in his hands. “What else did he say?” 

Will hesitated with a smile on his face and waited for Frankie to look at him. “He said she’s hot.” 

***** 

You didn’t look out the window to see where you were headed. Sitting between the two men, you glanced over at Benny, seeing the small spatter of blood on his sleeves – your brother’s blood. A sick vindication warmed your cheeks, knowing he was at least bleeding for what he’d done, even if it wasn't specifically for what he’d done to you. 

Benny noticed you looking at his hands, and he grinned.  

“He pissed his pants.”, he chuckled. “Had the nerve to beg me not to hurt him.” 

You nodded, eyes darting back to your own hands in your lap. While it gave you a moment of reprieve from the imminent doom creeping through your mind, it didn’t help the situation he put you in. 

The car slowed to a stop and Pope opened the door, getting out.  

“Benny, take her to the rec room. I’ll get Fish.” 

Your blood ran cold. Fish, otherwise known as Big Fish, was the head of the Frontiersmen and it scared you shitless to know you were going to meet him. 

Benny nudged you. “Come on, honey.” 

You looked up at him, trembling, and nodded. Shakily taking his hand, he helped you out of the car. Grabbing your bag from the trunk, he put his hand on the small of your back and guided you inside the building. 

“Shakin’ like a leaf, honey.”, he mused. “Just behave like a good girl and you got nothing to worry about.” 

You nodded again, feeling your chin quiver. Behave like a good girl. What does that mean? Sudden realization washes over you in a cold sweat as to what payment they could want from you. Your breathing became ragged at the thought of what they would do to you, do to your body.  

Benny opened a door to a rec room with some men playing darts, drinking, talking. 

“Clear out, boys. Boss’s coming down.”, Benny boomed. 

All eyes were on you now, and with a firm look from Benny, they began to leave, murmuring and hushed voices wondering who you were and what was going on.  

“Didn’t ask for you to clear out slow, boys!”, he barked angrily, making you flinch. “Fuckin’ move!” 

With that, the room was cleared almost instantly, and Benny led you to an armchair, guiding you to sit. 

“You want anything, honey?”, he motioned to the fridge, walking towards it, looking at you with a warm smile. 

You shook your head, keeping your eyes low.  

“You sure? We got some soda, beer... “, he said, taking stock of what was in the fridge, then turning back to you. His face fell when he saw the thousand-yard stare in your eyes. 

He tapped the fridge with his fingers, thinking. He didn’t like that you were being used like this. You were pretty and seemed sweet, and definitely didn’t deserve what your skid mark of a brother had done to you.  

“Hey. Can you cook?” 

You look over to him and nod slowly.  

“What’s your specialty?” 

“My… my what?”, you asked, shaking your head. 

“What’s your go to recipe that you know you’re good at makin’, honey?”, he responded, closing the fridge and leaning against it, facing you. 

“I… I make a pretty good lasagna.” 

Benny’s grin was wide, and he nodded. “Perfect.” 

***** 

“What the fuck were you thinking?”, Frankie bellowed at Pope, slamming his fist down. 

Both he and Will were seated at the table in the office while Frankie stood, reprimanding them. 

“Fish… the guy’s a fucking junkie and he wasn’t going to be able to pay. Just took what we’re owed – what you’re owed!”, Pope tried to reason. 

“I’m not owed a fucking person, Pope! You shoulda just let Benny break his legs or something.” 

“Broken leg isn’t enough for his debt, Frank.”, Will said calmly, leaning back in his chair. “He owed way too much money. Broken leg, even legs, isn’t going to cut it. Needed to be bigger. Something to scare him and anyone else not paying shitless.” 

Frankie held onto the back of his chair and shook his head angrily. “Why didn’t you ask? Why didn’t you fucking talk to me first?” 

Before Will could try and reason with Frankie, Pope casually said with a smile, “Because I knew you would’ve balked at it. Would’ve said no.” 

Will sighed and gave Pope a glare and Frankie looked at him, furious. 

“So, you run this fucking show now?”, Frankie growled with his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the chair.  

Pope’s smile fell and he raised his hands. “Not what I meant, Frankie. I just saw an opportunity for you to make a statement and – “ 

Frankie harshly threw the chair out of his way and stalked over to Pope, leaning over him and spoke in a terrifyingly low growl. 

“You go around me one more fucking time, Santiago, I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” 

He kept his face, full of contempt and fury, close to Pope’s, and Pope nodded at him, sweating under Frankie’s glare, knowing full well what he was capable of – cutting off limbs being one of those things. 

“You, too.”, Frankie snarled as he stood up, pointing at Will. “Understood?” 

They both nodded. Frankie’s loud voice and stature, wide shoulders and strong arms, already made him intimidating when he was mad, but with the added bulk he was carrying, he was downright terrifying. 

“Yeah, un-understood.”, Pope stammered.  

“What do you want us to do with her?”, Will asked quietly. 

Frankie leaned back on the table; it groaned under his weight.  

“You brought her here with no plan for her? What the fuck is wrong with – “ 

Will interjected quickly. “She could be useful… for you.” 

“What?”, Frankie barked, standing up. 

Pope knew where Will was going with and added with a dark grin. “She’s a fucking hottie, Fish. Could be useful.” 

Frankie shook his head and looked at Will, ignoring Pope’s comment, and speaking in a harsh tone. What do you mean – useful for me?” 

Will swallowed. “Maybe she’s got some skills, can be put to work. If Pope’s right and she’s cute, what’s the harm? Not like she could say no to you.” 

Frankie thought for a moment. She could say no… and if he fucked her anyway, what did that say about him?  

“Jesus, Will…”, he huffed, shaking his head. His eyes coldly looked up and met Will’s, and growled loudly, “The fuck is wrong with you? I expect that kind of shit from him, but not you.” 

Frankie moved and stood right in front of Will, arms crossed and glaring down at him. 

“That’s not what we do.”, he snarled lowly. “That’s what fucking Tom did.” 

Will glanced at Pope before nodding at Frankie.  

He held the glare with Will for a moment longer then looked between the two men. 

“Where is she?”, he sighed. 

“With Benny. In the rec room.”, Pope murmured. 

Frankie rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, then motioned for Will get her. 

***** 

Benny had been trying his hardest to keep you calm and distracted with questions and musings for the last hour and a half. He was occasionally interrupted by one of the grunts – as he called them – wandering in to hang out, not having gotten the run down from any of the other guys that the rec room was closed, and Benny would chase them out. 

“… so this guy’s got a wrench and I only got a plastic spoon, and he’s comin’ at me with it – “ 

Benny’s story is interrupted by the door opening. He turned to yell at whoever it was to get out but stopped when another tall, blond man walked into the room. He looked you over quickly and nodded his head to Benny. 

Benny stood up and walked towards the man and speaking softly. As they spoke, you could only hear bits and pieces, but you were able to pick up was that this man’s name was probably Will and Benny told him you could cook. 

Will held his hand up to shush Benny and walked towards you. He sat down in the armchair Benny previously occupied, while Benny stood to your other side, hands in his jean pockets. 

Will let out a long sigh as he sat back, elbow on the armrest and chin on his fist. You could feel his eyes burning over you as you kept your own low and on his shoes. 

“Benny says you can cook.”, his voice was cool and flat, with a slight lilt to it.  

You nodded. “Yeah… yes. I can cook.” You tried to match at least his flat tone, but the fear Benny had spent the last while trying to quell had sunk its fang s back into you. 

Will nodded and looked at Benny, nudging his head to let him know he could leave -  he should leave.  

Benny huffed a nervous breath and left the room. But he didn’t go far; you could see his shadow lingering under the door. 

“Not gonna beat around the bush, honey. Boss doesn’t want you here, and frankly, neither do I.”, he said plainly with a hint of warmth. 

While there was no malice in his voice, the smoldering anger in his eyes said otherwise. You nodded.  

“But you’re here, and you say you can cook. Boss needs someone to cook for him since the last one was caught stealing and… went for a swim.” 

“I can cook… wha-what does the boss like?”, you ignored his last statement and forced yourself to speak. 

“Boss likes pretty girls.”, Will chuckled with a small smile, leaning forward and putting a hand on your knee. “Especially likes pretty girls that can be useful.” 

You lowered your head and nodded, trying to hold back the full body shudder that was desperately trying to rip through you. 

He watched you closely when he spoke, trying to get a reading on how easily you were intimidated. While he knew Frankie would more than likely act like you weren’t there, he couldn’t say the same for Pope or himself, let alone any of the other men, and until Frankie said you were off limits, you were fair game. 

“Don’t be shy, honey. No one else here is gonna be.”, he said with a dark chuckle. “Look at me.” 

You looked up at him and the menacing glare in his eyes glowed.  

“Just behave like a good girl. You might make it out of here alive.” 

***** 

The Benny who had tried to console you was gone the moment you walked out of the rec room with Will. He was now cold and stoic, no emotion, and he was intimidating. Benny walked ahead of you and Will walked beside you, his arm around your waist and they led you down the hallway. 

Benny turned and opened a door, walking in and standing to the side, remaining at the door as if to keep guard. 

It was an office. At the far end was a floor-to-ceiling window that spanned the wall, looking out onto the pier, with a desk in front if it, facing you. Behind the desk was a large, high back swivel chair, and in front of it were four plush lounge chairs, arranged to face the desk. Along the sides of the office were shelves containing books, pictures, and other personal odds and ends. Everything was either wood or brass, unless it was upholstered; the room was dated and smelled like stale cigars, old wood, and another scent that took you a minute to place - pizza. 

Will ushered you to sit in one of the centre chairs facing the desk and stood behind you with his hand on your shoulder, as if he thought you might try and escape – you’d given up on that idea back in your apartment. 

There were a pair of footsteps approaching outside the door and your body stiffened; Will gave your shoulder a squeeze as the door opened. You kept your head low and forward, not daring to look at who came in, although you were sure you knew who it was. 

Pope came and sat in the chair next to you and smiled. Will removed his hand and sat in the chair on your other side, and Benny stood behind you. Heavy footsteps moved between your and Will’s chairs, and then you saw him.  

He was tall with broad shoulders, and was wearing fitted, faded jeans and a black and red bowling shirt. His crossed arms stretched the sleeves, and the desk creaked as he leaned back on it. You dared to look up at his face, and you were taken aback; instead of the steely blue stare you got from Benny or Will, or the dark, cold void that Pope had, you were met with big brown, warm eyes looking you over, and a soft face sporting patchy facial hair and mustache. His hair was dark brown and slicked back. Your eyes flicked down his large frame quickly and you noted how his buttons pulled across his ample stomach.  

“Huh.”, he mused quietly as his eyes trailed over you more blatantly. His tongue flicked between his lips softly as if he were thinking.  

“Pope was right. You’re cute.”, he huffed, putting a toothpick in his mouth. “I don’t have any fuckin’ use for cute.” 

“She cooks.”, Will interjected.  

Frankie’s eyes darted to Will and then back to you, and he looks you up and down again. 

“Okay… so you cook.”, Frankie said with a hint of annoyance. “What else you got?” 

Your eyes looked up to his face and you were met with his mouth pulled into a tight line and his eyes baring down on you; the intensity of his stare was almost too much. He raised a brow at you as if to say I asked you a question. 

You looked back down at your hands, needing to break the connection your eye contact with him had made. 

“I used to… used to work in an office. I can file, balance books… other administrative… things - ” 

“Interesting… Tell me you’re thinking the same thing I am, Fish.”, Pope chuckled quietly. “A hot secretary.” 

He turned his attention to you and his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers roving under your skirt and up closer to your crotch. His voice dropped into a honeyed tone, dripping in venom. “You ever fucked your boss, honey? You’ve got four now.” 

You try to not make any movements, but the subtle way you shift screams your discomfort.  

“Jesus, Pope. Stop.”, Benny huffed under his breath behind you.  

Pope chuckled and gave your thigh a squeeze before removing his hand. Frankie’s stare didn’t leave you; he wanted to see how well you handled being the target of men’s overt advances and their groping. His narrowed eyes watched as you tried not to squirm or give a reaction to Santi’s hand or words, and he frowned. 

The only sound in the room was the desk Frankie rested on creaking as he shifted his weight. He sighed deeply.  

“Ben, get her a room set up in the barracks. Take her with you. I’m fuckin’ done looking at this.”, he grunted, motioning his hand aggressively in your direction.  

“I can take her.”, Pope chimed in with a low and crooning voice. You could hear the grin in his voice and his eyes in you, and you wondered what changed from when he came to your apartment to now. 

“Fuck off, Pope!”, Benny hissed. 

“Hey!”, Frankie yelled angrily. “Pope, stay right the fuck where you are. Benny, get her out of here. Now!” 

Benny’s hand quickly came around to your arm, tugging you out of the chair, and out of the room. The last glimpse of Frankie you got was watching him glare at you from his position against the desk. 

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @noxturnalpascal

[bellebridgerton]

Best Buddies: Chapter 1 (Modern Benedict Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

Y/n walked into the Number Five, she laughed as Hyacinth and Gregory circled her, "Hello loves, what's up?"

The two started talking over each other, trying to tell her about their day.

Benedict leaned in the doorway of the drawing room, "Ah, now you've got them going." He smirked, admiring his best friend and how well she handled his younger siblings.

Y/n smiled, "That all sounds lovely, we'll talk later, okay? Benedict asked me to come over, my loves."

Hyacinth and Gregory nodded and ran off to play.

Yn turned back to Benedict, "So what do you need help with?"

Benedict raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, "Am I not allowed to simply enjoy your company?"

Y/n walked closer to Benedict and put her hand over his crossed arms, "Of course you can, but I sense you need something more from me than just my company, Benny."

"Oh, you know I don't like that nickname!," Benedict whined.

This made Y/n giggle, "It's never going away, it's been the same for the last ten years. Year nine art class, and the rest is history, my dear Benny." She gave him her best smile and he couldn't help but fold.

Benedict kissed her head, "You know me too well, love. I need a distraction, I'm wracking my brain waiting on a score for a very important exam." Thing is, despite how well she knew him, he had one very big secret. She's his love.

Y/n nodded, understanding, "Then you've called the right lady! What did you have in mind? Movie and take out? Games? Smoke sesh?" She looked up at him like he hung the moon, because to her, he did.

Benedict gently took her hands in his, "Dealer's choice, love." He'd do whatever she wants to.

Y/n gently squeezed his hands, "How about we smoke, I'll order your favorite take out, and we'll put on a show, just waste the night away. We can worry about the score tomorrow."

Benedict grinned and wrapped her up in his arms, "You are amazing!"

Laughing and enjoying the moment, Y/n hugged Benedict back, "Thank you, Benny." She looked up at Benedict, "I love your family, I really, really do, but can we do this in your bedroom or our flat?"

Benedict rubbed his hand up and down her back, "Our flat sounds perfect, love." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

Y/n squealed and lightly, playfully beat on his back, "Benny! Put me down!"

Benedict placed Y/n in the passenger seat of his car and fastening her seatbelt for her, "There you are, love."

Y/n blushed a bit and raised an eyebrow at Benedict, "I'm a big girl, I can buckle myself in."

Benedict just chuckled, slipping into the driver's seat, "Even so, I just did it, so deal with it." He starts the drive to his flat, "What kind of movie do you have in mind?"

Gently poking his cheek, Y/n smiled, "I was thinking either something scary or something funny."

Benedict thought for a moment, "What about a rom-com?"

Y/n groaned, "You know I don't like those, I know it's your night, but please no rom-coms, Benny."

"Fine, fine, how about a horror movie and a romance movie?," Benedict replied as he parked in the parking garage.

As she was undoing her seatbelt, Y/n nodded, "Sounds perfect to me."

Benedict rushed around to open her door for her, they may have loved to tease each other, but he was a gentleman regardless. He took her hand to help her out of the car. Y/n accepted his hand, "Thank you, Benny."

Benedict wrapped his arm around her waist and walked with her to their shared flat, "Will I ever hear the end of that nickname?"

"Nope!," Y/n patted his chest a few times with her hand, "We'll be old and grey before I even think of not using your nickname sometimes."

~

Benedict unlocked the front door to their flat, "You're so lucky I love you."

Y/n walked in before Benedict, "I love you too, Benny." He groaned, but didn't feel it was worth the bickering for the moment. Y/n smiled, "What are you in the mood to have for dinner?" She made her way to his bedroom, opening his dresser drawers and finding some short shorts and an old shirt. She loved that she could somehow fit his more relaxed clothes.

Benedict leaned in the doorway of his bedroom, "I have been craving Chinese all week."

Y/n whirled around and looked at Benedict, "You don't get to watch me change, you cheeky man!"

Benedict held his hands up in surrender, "You left the door open, love. I will close the door on my way out." He sat on his bed and watched for her next move.

She narrowed her eyes at Benedict, "Out! This is not a free show, Benny!"

Benedict whined playfully, "Oh come on! If only for artistic reasons?" Y/n shook her head, pointing towards the door. Benedict sighed, "Well, it was worth a shot!"

A smile cracked on Y/n's face, "Cute, but seriously, Benny, a little privacy please. I'll be all yours for the rest of the night, after I change clothes."

He relented and stood up, making his way out of his bedroom, "Fine, I suppose." He closed the door behind himself and muttered, "All mine for the night, if only."

~

Before finally getting settled into the sofa, Y/n put the boxes of Chinese she ordered for herself and Benedict in the microwave. Benedict rounded the corner of the kitchen island and stood next to her, he held up two forks, "Let's dig in!"

Y/n smiled up at Benedict, "You need to finish your joint first, you said you wanted to get high."

Benedict picked up the small piece that was left of his joint, "Finish it for me?" He gave her his best puppy dog eyes.

She sighed, "I'll take a drag, but I rolled it for you." She grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to her lips. Y/n took a long drag, then leaned in close to Benedict's face, aiming the smoke towards his slightly parted lips, "There, all yours, Benny."

He was in a daze, it was almost as bad as it had been earlier when he watched her lick the paper to seal his joint for him. The way her tongue moved had him weak in the knees, luckily he was sitting down then.

Benedict finished his joint and opened the microwave, "Can we eat now?"

Y/n smiled, "Yes, let's eat!" She helped him bring the bag the boxes were delivered in to the living room. She got comfortable on the sofa and opened the food she got just for her, while handing him his food, and leaving their shared food untouched for the time being.

Benedict found a movie that he had been wanting to see, it was a romantic comedy, but he wasn't about to tell Y/n that. He hoped he could open her mind a bit, Daniel Radcliffe was the leading actor, after all.

Y/n could quickly tell it was a romantic comedy, but she chose not to get on Benedict about it and give this one a chance.

~

The movie was very funny, and the story was sweet, Y/n actually enjoyed it. She lifted her head from Benedict's shoulder and looked at him, "I will admit, I enjoyed that one." The smile that broke out across Benedict's face, she'd do anything to see that smile all the time.

He chuckled, "I'm glad, love. What did you have in mind for a horror movie?"

Y/n shrugged, "Let's see what's available." She flipped through a few before settling on The Barbarian. While she did love horror movies, she had an ulterior motive for picking a horror movie, Benedict held onto her whenever he got scared, how could she pass up the opportunity?

Benedict wasn't a huge fan of horror movies, although they did give him an excuse to hold her closer than usual, but she didn't need to know that.

~

Unveiling his face from Y/n's hair, Benedict watched the end of the movie, his hands still around her waist. Y/n smiled faintly and was gently rubbing his back, "It's almost over, don't worry."

Benedict rested his head on top of her's, "Can we put on something a little more lighthearted?" He made no attempt to release her from his hold.

Y/n grabbed the remote and put on his favorite show, That 70's Show. She relaxed in his hold, slightly craning her neck to meet his eyes, "How are you feeling, Benny?"

He smiled lazily, "Relaxed, happy. Thank you for taking care of me, love. Could you give me a tattoo? You left your home kit in my room last week, by the way."

Y/n laughed, "I knew it! I couldn't find it anywhere! Are you sure you want a tattoo?"

Benedict grinned, he trusted her, as she was a very talented tattoo artist, "Honestly, I'm surprised you never asked me to be your guinea pig when you were learning."

Y/n smiled warmly, "And you would have let me tattoo you then?"

He nodded, "Of course, we always support each other in our endeavors. Could you do something with color? Not too large, on my inner left forearm?"

Y/n shifted in his hold, "I would love to, you get comfortable, I'll get you prepped." She gently left his side and stood up, "Do you want numbing cream?"

Benedict smiled, "I should think I can go without numbing cream, you can certainly withstand tattoos without it," he lightly teased.

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/n went to grab her kit from his bedroom, she calls, "Just for that, you won't get any numbing cream, Benny!" She came back and cleaned up the coffee table, wiped it down and pulls a short stool over to the sofa. She put on gloves, then gently took Benedict's arm, "I'm going to shave the area, then cleanse it." Benedict nodded in understanding.

~

Y/n put the tattoo gun down and gently wiped down his fresh tattoo, she looked at his face, "You did sit very well, Benny. I'm proud of you!"

Benedict nodded, "Thank you, love. Although, it does feel a bit sore."

Y/n grabbed a black patch from her kit and placed it over Benedict's new tattoo, fastening it with tape, "It'll be fine, your muscles just got repeatedly stabbed, it's going to be sore for a bit." She kissed his cheek softly, "You sat wonderfully for it, thank you, Benny."

He chuckled, "Thank you for doing this for me, love."

She cleaned up her kit and disposed of the needles she used and her gloves, "Any time, friends and family discount. Plus a little practice for me never hurts." She knew he would never abuse the privilege to get free tattoos.

~

Benedict gently carried Y/n to his bedroom since it was closer, using one hand to open the door, then pull back the covers. He placed her in his bed and tucked her in, kissing her forehead, "Sweet dreams, my darling."

Y/n grabbed onto his t-shirt as he was pulling away, "Come to bed, please."

Benedict smiled softly and gently stroked her hair, watching her sleepy face, just barely seeing her irises through her heavy eyelids, "Oh, I was going to take the couch."

She opened her eyes a bit more, "I don't bite, you can also sleep in your bed." She gave him a sleepy smile, how could he ever say no to her?

Benedict gently touched her cheek with his thumb, "Okay, I'll stay." He got up and turned out the light, street lights outlining Y/n's tired form. Benedict climbed into bed on the opposite side of the mattress, opting to keep some space between himself and Y/n. Of course he'd much prefer to have her close, but he couldn't find an excuse to hold her.

Y/n rolled over as she fell back to sleep, her arm resting across his stomach. She cuddled up to Benedict and rested her head on his chest. Benedict gently pulled her closer, rubbing her back and kissing her head, "Goodnight, my love." He felt he could call her that since she was asleep.

✨Next Chapter✨

Tag list: @coolepowersthings @khaylin27 @m-rae23

[lady06reaper]

kyle broflovski x reader academic rivals PLLSSSSS rivals-friends-lovers like headcannons

OOOOOOOOOOO

yes.

Kyle x reader hc of academic rivals to lovers trope

first of all, to explain the photo this is how he would look at you anytime you'd beat him at ANYTHING academic

I feel like he wouldn't see you as threat... at first

but then that big test that he spent night and day studying all the notes for comes up, and he gets a 99.5%

YOU GET A 100% AND HE IS FURIOUS

asks your tactics and strategies for studying and remembering the information

you invite him over for a study session *COUGH* date *COUGH*

thats where things get interesting, like he starts to fall for your intellect more than your looks (he prefers brain (( ;) )) over beauty)

if one of you one-ups the other, its just a back and forth battle of who can get the highest score on the next test or project

I can see him being in debate club so if you are too be prepared for the massive blow out drag out arguments that continue even after everyone else has left

and they're over the most stupidest things ever

"The toilet paper is supposed to face the toilet"

"No, it faces the sink you imbecile"

always partners for group projects

after a few study dates, he actually asks you out on an actual date, which is really just you two spending the night at Bennys guzzling coffee studying for the test that is legit in 3 HOURS

after that, you two both get 100%, and thats where he decides to pop the question

"(Y/N), will you be my official study buddy?"

heres where it gets relationship-y

im sorry, but if yall studying theres gonna be a reward system

like every question you get right you get a kiss or if you get one wrong you have to purposely get that question wrong on the test

study dates turn into cuddle sessions to relieve stress before the test or presentation esp. if you have anxiety when it comes to things like that

if you don't feel like studying for whatever reason, that boy will drop his studies for your needs

like yes both of your academic careers are important, but you're more important to him than a letter grade

i feel like during a test one of you will get distracted by the other and it gets hard after that to focus

really you both just want the other to try their hardest and get the best grade yall can get

I hoped you enjoyed it anon! thank you for being my first request!

[wannab-urs]

Burn Slowly/I Love You | Chapter 1

Warnings/Content/Summary: As always I live in a fantasy world where no one gets pregnant or gets STDs and no one uses a condom. This is fiction. Wear a fucking condom. Sex while intoxicated but like it’s two maybe three beers y’all they aren’t drunk. Alternating POV kind of? Reader has burn scars on her left arm, wrapping over her shoulder and a bit onto her chest. No other physical descriptors. Remember that Frankie is strong as hell so it doesn’t matter if you’re petite or amazonian, this man can toss you around all he wants to. Fuck first feelings later type beat. Eventual descriptions of PTSD, trauma, minor character death, panic attacks, flashbacks, etc.

Word Count - 2.2k

Your Chest is Heavy

You’re sitting at the worn oak counter of a dive bar just a few blocks from your apartment with a cheap beer and a copy of The Secret History. Reading at the bar is a good way to scare off most men who would normally approach you. The rest usually fuck off when you don’t even look up from the book, muttering “not interested” in their direction. It’s really hard to focus on this book, though. The plot is a little meandering, for one, but there’s also a lot of people here tonight making it loud. 

A sudden burst of laughter draws your attention. A group of guys stand around a hightop table on the far side of the room. At first glance, none are particularly appealing to you. Rowdy, obscenely muscular, clean shaven, close cropped hair. Not your type at all. You’re just about to go back to your book when one of the guys catches your eye. He doesn’t look quite like the others. Unruly dark curls stick out of a ballcap, a scruffy beard clings to his cheeks. He’s got broad shoulders and big arms like the others, but his face is softer around the edges. His eyes are still caught in the crinkles of his laughter when he meets your stare. Shit you’re staring. 

You quickly look back down at your book, curling in on yourself, hoping he doesn’t come over. You’ve basically used universal bar sign language for come talk to me and that is not what you want. Even if he’s really cute. 

“Dude, she was practically eating you with her eyes. Go over there!” Benny playfully nudges Frankie on the shoulder. 

“You haven’t had any action in ages, Catfish. Go,” Pope teases. 

Frankie scrubs a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. She was probably looking at you, Benny.” 

“She was definitely looking at you, Fish,” Will seems genuine, tone softer and less like he’s setting Frankie up to fail. 

Frankie sighs, lifting his cap and running a hand through his curls before stuffing it back on his head. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.” The boys cheer like his love life is a fucking football game and he just scored a touchdown. 

Frankie slips into a bar stool beside you. “Uh… hi,” he says sheepishly. He feels like an idiot for doing this. 

“Not interested,” you mutter, barely even looking up from your book. Frankie’s face grows hot with shame. The boys will never let this go. Not a shot in hell. He sits there for a second, caught between facing your wrath if he doesn’t leave and facing the humiliation if he does. But just as he makes the decision to go, you look up at him. “Wait! I’m sorry. Habit.” 

Frankie cocks an eyebrow, but settles back into his seat. “I’m Frankie. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Yeah, Frankie. I’d like that.”

It wouldn’t have been right to send the man away without at least talking to him. That’s how you justify it to yourself. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous up close. In that first quick glance you’d caught the curve of his aquiline nose, the pout of his plump lips, and the blush creeping over his golden cheeks. That was enough to warrant at least a conversation. 

And fuck it was a good conversation. He asked about your book, which led to a rant about all the reasons you didn’t like it and all the reasons you were still reading it anyway, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he grinned at you. “What?” 

“It’s cute when you ramble,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck. 

You talked about your job at the library and he told you he’s an ambulance driver. He jerked a thumb toward the guys still nursing their beers behind him, “Firefighters. Buncha pendejos,” he’d said a little too loudly, winking at you. 

You had fully intended on letting him down gently. You didn’t come here to find someone to go home with, you came here to have a beer. And yet you had asked him if he wanted to head out of the bar. And now you’re sitting in  his truck, rolling down the highway.

“Can you turn the AC on?” You’re sweating through your long sleeve black shirt from the heat and your own nervousness. 

“Uh… It’s broken. I’m sorry,” Frankie kind of winces, like it physically hurts him to admit. “Not far from the house though.” 

“It’s fine! Just a little warm,” you play with the sleeve of your shirt and take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s just a little heat. You’ll be okay. Breathe. “Actually, can I roll the window down?” 

Frankie chuckles and hits the button to roll all the windows in the truck down. Your heart rate evens out as the night air hits your face. 

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a small white house. You pick at your fingers, seriously questioning if you made the right choice. He seems so sweet. You feel… safe with him. But-

“Cariño? We’re here,” Frankie speaks low, like he’s worried you’ll spook and take off. He slowly reaches over the console and takes your hand, stopping your fidgeting. He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” you say too quickly, too loudly in the stillness of the truck cab. “It’s just, uh… It’s been a while. I’m nervous.” Frankie pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it before laying it gently back down on the console. 

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ll take care of you, though. Promise.” He winks at you and it’s so dorky and cute that it calms you down a little. 

Frankie barely gets you through the door before he gently presses you into the wall and his soft, plush lips find yours. You melt into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. You knock his trucker hat to the floor and bury your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and his beard scrapes against the soft skin of your face. He smells like citrus and sandalwood. Your senses are gently overpowered by him, a soft wash of Frankie covering you and settling what remains of your nerves. 

Every fear you had comes rushing back as he slips his fingertips under the hem of your shirt. You freeze before grabbing his wrist and placing a palm on his chest, pushing him away gently. “Shirt stays on and hands stay outside of it, okay? I’m sorry…” Your body tenses in anticipation of the rejection you know is coming. He’ll kick you out. Or disregard your wishes. 

Frankie’s hands find your cheeks, drawing your face up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses you gently, reassuringly. It hits you again that you trust this stranger you just met in a bar. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hitches his hands under your thighs and pulls them up around his waist, settling you against his very prominent arousal. You roll yourself against him and he groans into your mouth. His hands wrap tightly around your body and he carries you down the hallway. 

He lays you gently on the bed and immediately goes for the button of your jeans, making sure to stay clear of your shirt. He tosses your jeans and underwear on the floor and drops to his knees beside the bed. 

“Oh, Frankie, you don’t have to-” your sentence is cut off by the low moan erupting from your throat as Frankie pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and buries his face in your cunt. His hooked nose grinds against your clit as he licks into you. Your hands find purchase in his curls and you roll your hips into him, grinding on his face. Frankie eats it up… literally. He groans into your pussy and you feel it reverberate through your entire body. Your head is thrown back in absolute ecstasy as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it rhythmically. You clench around nothing, pleasure curling up in your core. “Please, fuck, don’t stop. So close,” you cry out. Your voice is desperate, wrecked, and your hips are thrusting involuntarily against his face. 

You come with a near pained shout, hands tightening in Frankie’s hair and pulling him into you even harder as you grind on his nose. Frankie licks a trail from your entrance up to your mound, then presses kisses all the way up your clothed stomach and chest. He nips at your jaw as he unbuttons his pants and clumsily shoves them off with one hand, like he can’t bear to take his mouth away from you. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, hermosa,” he rumbles in your ear. “Could eat you out all night, if you’d let me.” 

You think you would let him, if you couldn’t feel his hardness pressed against your thigh. “Another time, Frankie.” You push your thigh against him. “Fuck me, please.” 

Frankie doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and pulls you further to the edge of the bed. He looks down at you, unconsciously licking his lips. “Fucking gorgeous…” he says under his breath. You could say the same about him. Half his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and half are standing wild from your fingers raking through them. His big brown eyes are wide, almost in awe. His upper half is wrapped in a tight white t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. 

He grips his thick, uncut cock in his fist and lines it up with your entrance before grabbing your hips. He pulls your hips into him, splitting you wide open without moving his hips an inch. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so full in your fucking life. Your hands fly to his muscular forearms, hanging on for dear life as he sheathes himself inside your tight heat. “Holy fuck, Frankie.” 

“I know, baby, I know,” Frankie whispers as he bends to cover your body with his. He drags his cock out a couple of inches and rolls his hips in a fluid motion, sinking back into you and grinding against your clit on every stroke. Moans spill from your lips unchecked. You don’t care if you sound sexy or if the words you’re babbling make any sense because he feels so fucking good. 

Frankie sits up and wedges his knees under your thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He grips your hips in his strong hands and easily pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your arms fly above your head, grasping onto the sheets. Your shirt rides up a little with the motion and you almost panic, but Frankie tangles his fingers into the fabric and holds the hem tight against your torso. Safe. You trust him.

Frankie grips you so hard you know you’ll bruise and slams his hips into yours, driving you closer and closer to coming. “You feel… so good, cariño. So. Fucking. Tight,” Frankie bites out between thrusts. You babble incoherently, the head of his cock is slamming into your cervix and it’s making you feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Nothing matters except Frankie’s cock buried inside you and the coil of pleasure building in your gut. He’s fucking you like a rag doll, now. Your body has gone boneless with the intensity of him inside you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a flame, burning you up from the inside out. You scream his name as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes taut with pleasure. Frankie steadily, brutally, fucks you through it. When your cunt finally stops convulsing around him, he drops your hips and leans over your limp, fucked out body. 

Frankie kisses you with a tenderness that seems at odds with the way he just fucked you, stuttering his hips into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and nestling his cock into the crease between your thigh and your torso. His cum splatters across your shirt in long spurts, coating you in his release. 

His forehead drops to yours and your heaving breaths mingle in the space between you. You meet his gaze and there’s something in his eyes… something like adoration. Affection. He shakes his head slightly and stands up. 

“I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” his voice comes out hoarse, rough with the after effects of his orgasm. He disappears into his closet and comes back with a big, long-sleeve t-shirt. You sit up slowly and take the shirt from him. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper. 

Frankie wakes up in his bed alone. His brow furrows in disappointment. He usually likes to make his hookups breakfast and drive them back to their car. He knows it’s a little weird, but it’s important to him that he takes care of you. He flops onto his side and catches a glimpse of a piece of  paper on his nightstand. It’s your number, your name signed with a heart and a note promising to return the shirt. 

Frankie smiles, feeling something dangerously close to hope for the first time in a long time.

A/N: This fic has been in the works for a while now. The initial idea was pitched in a chat with @beskarandblasters and she supported me every step of the way <3. Thanks to the Whorehomies for hyping me and this idea up! I appreciate y'all more than you'll ever know. And thanks to @str84pedro for the beta/grammar edit I love you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @harriedandharassed, @jksprincess10, @fishingforpike, @dreamingofdaddydin, @sad-bitch-disorder

[spnhunter4life]

Winchester's Girl

A Dean hockey AU. I went to a game with my coworkers last night and came up with this idea. However, since I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of the sport to write out a full-fledged fic for this, have a bullet pointed summary of what I came up with. (What would this be called? An imagine maybe? I feel like I've seen posts similar to this called imagines.)

A/N: Ok, so this turned out to be longer than I anticipated (imagine that). This is a bit more actual story and less summary than I expected when I started this. I still think it fits better in this format though, because it's easier to skip around where I want and not put the effort into combining it all together somehow. Also, just a heads up, this is tagged friends to lovers because I think that's the best way to describe it. I also think the lovers part tends to imply that there will be smut, but that is not the case here.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

You and Dean have been friends for so long, you can barely even remember life without him. You met in eighth grade when your family moved to Kansas and immediately clicked. You had a lot in common, but you especially bonded over your shared love of hockey. You were there to be proud and support him as he transitioned from the local high school team to the college team, and then again when he made it to a professional team. Nothing made you more proud or excited than hearing that he had become center for the Kansas Hunters.

All the guys on the team knew you. You were even pretty good friends with a few of them. Since you attended more of his games than you might care to admit and had even been known to attend a practice or two if you and Dean had plans after, the rest of the guys jokingly referred to you as Winchester's girl.

"Hey, Winchester! Your girl is here!" They would call out to him when they spotted you entering the building on practice days. It was Benny who said it the first time, and it just sort of caught on from there.

"Who is that girl?" Cas's new girlfriend asked one night, spotting you at a party following a big win. "I think I've seen her at every single one of your games." Cas barely even needed to glance in your direction to know who she was talking about. "Who, Y/n? That's just Winchester's girl."

A couple years ago, during the off season, Dean decided it was time to take you skating. Despite being a lifelong hockey fan, you'd never actually learned to skate. You were a little nervous about falling over a lot and making a fool out of yourself, but mostly you were excited. You loved watching Dean on the ice, the speed and ease with which he moved. It was like he was flying. You wanted to be able to experience that freedom for yourself.

Despite his laughter and teasing -- "How can someone who spends so much time at a hockey rink be so terrible at skating?" -- he was a very good teacher. He had endless patience and was familiar with the way you learned which made it easy for him to pass on the secret knowledge of how to balance on two blades in a way you quickly understood.

By the end of the first lesson, you were a little bruised from falling so many times but had also figured out how to stay upright and move around. And if you were still moving at a snail's pace as you got used to things while Dean zoomed by you, at least you were on your feet.

You and Dean have this years-long running bet of sorts. It started in high school when the two of you were in chorus together, you because you enjoyed it and wanted to be and Dean because he had to in order to get his fine arts credit -- although you suspect that no matter how much he denies it, there was a small part of him that enjoyed it. Your teacher had a requirement that at the local band/chorus contest, everyone must participate in at least one small group piece on top of the pieces you sang as a full choir. Dean pestered you for days before you finally agreed to do a duet with him. "But," you told him, "only if you score a goal within the first three minutes of the game tonight." You weren't sure why you decided to make him work for it instead of just agreeing. After all, you knew he was a decent singer and would make a good duet partner. Not to mention you enjoyed spending time with him, so working on a song together wouldn't exactly be a hardship. But you'd already offered the deal and weren't about to take it back. Of course Dean's eyes lit up at the challenge and he immediately agreed. That night, just over two minutes into the game he scored a goal. He immediately looked up, finding you in the crowd quickly since you tended to sit in the same place, and winked at you. You knew it was his way of gloating in the couple seconds he had available to do so, and you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't contain your smile.

After that it became a thing. If there was something Dean wanted from you -- something he wanted help with or something he wanted to do that he knew you'd enjoy but you were a little hesitant about (like going to homecoming with him) -- he'd use the "if I score a goal in under three minutes" challenge as a way to get it.

After a while, it evolved into more of a silly game. It became an almost every game occurrence. He still brought up big things once in a while -- "if I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to go talk to that cute guy from the library you won't shut up about" -- but it was mostly little stuff. "If I score in under three minutes tonight, I get to pick the movie we watch this weekend; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you're buying me a pizza; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to come with me to the show my friend and his horrible band are putting on. If I have to suffer through it, so do you."

You suspected that he liked the challenge of it, that he wanted to give himself a reason to really work hard. While he definitely wasn't managing to score in time every night, he managed it enough to gain a reputation for himself as an early game scorer. "Watch out for Winchester in those first few minutes of the game," you'd heard people say. "If he gets anywhere near your goal, he will score."

Just like the first time, if he won the challenge, he would find you in the stands and wink at you. In the college years, this led to the more intense fans -- particularly the young women who knew what he looked like beneath the helmet -- to speculate who he might be winking at and why. In the last couple years with the Hunters, it led to even more teasing from the guys about you being Winchester's girl.

It has been a brutal game against the Hunters' biggest rival the Leviathans. More fights have broken out than you've seen in probably the last three or four games combined. One of the Leviathans' defenders broke his wrist in the first period. The score has been neck and neck, neither team able to gain a lasting advantage over the other. There is about a minute and a half left in the game when Dean scores a goal, putting the Hunters two points ahead, the biggest gap of the whole game. The crowd cheers, none of them louder than you, you're sure.

It happens in the middle of the next play. One second Dean is flying down the ice, all fire and determination. The next, there's a collision of bodies. You don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. Until three of the bodies pull back and the fourth is left lying on the ice. You can't do anything but stare as the big black 67 of Dean's jersey stares back. Fear holds you prisoner and you can't move, watching helplessly as the coach steps onto the ice, followed soon after by an EMT. He manages to find his feet and is escorted slowly off the ice. You're on your feet in an instant, heading for the locker room where you know he'll be looked at.

You pace back and forth outside the locker room, not daring to actually go in. You know you're not allowed. So you pace, biting your fingernails as you listen to the final moments of the game and wait for some sort of news on Dean. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and you know it's only a matter of time before the rest of the team is here. Maybe then you'll get some answers.

"What are you doing back here?" A hard voice demands. You look over to see the Leviathans' coach staring you down. He must have been passing by on the way to the other locker room. "You shouldn't be here," he says, not giving you time to answer.

"I know, but-"

"Get out of here," he demands. You know he's doing the right thing. He's probably dealt with overzealous fans before that wait for players outside the locker rooms and is only defending the privacy of the opposing team. But you don't appreciate his tone, especially given the circumstances.

"She's fine," a second voice says before you can answer. You look over the coach's shoulder to see Cas standing there, the rest of the team behind him. None of them look happy.

"Novak," the coach says. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't bothered. Fans shouldn't be back here."

"You're right, they shouldn't," Benny agrees. "But that's Winchester's girl. If she wants to be here, she has every right." The nickname that at first made you blush and now makes you roll your eyes never sounded so good. It's like a badge of honor. In a way, the team sees you as family. They will defend you and let people know you belong here with them. With Dean. The coach backs off.

"Just tell me how he is," you ask, turning to Benny and Cas with pleading eyes. Of course they don't have any more idea than you do, but you just want them to go in, assess the situation, and come back to tell you what's going on.

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Benny answers. You look at him in surprise. "I can't go in there," you tell him.

"Sure you can," Kevin disagrees. "Nobody's undressed in there. You can be in and out before we've got our pads off." You wait for only a second to see if anyone will protest and when they don't, you rush inside. Your eyes zero in on Dean immediately, sitting on a bench and talking with the EMT, who turns his head at the sound of the door opening. A look of surprise crosses his face and he stands up. "Young lady, you can't-"

"Yes she can," Dean cuts him off. His eyes are looking slightly unfocused, but they are fixed on you. You hear the rest of the team file in behind you as you make your way over to Dean, slowly, like you're afraid he'll break if you move too fast. You look him over as you move. His helmet, gloves, and skates are off. He looks ok, except for the eyes. "What happened?" You ask, sitting carefully beside him. "Are you ok?"

"That depends," he responds. Fear fills you again. Is the injury that bad? "Depends on what?" You ask. On if he has surgery to fix it? On if he never plays hockey again? The horrible possibilities flood your mind.

"Did we win?" He asks. You're too stunned to answer. You replay his question in your head a few times, sure you must have misheard him. "Are you serious?" You finally ask.

"Yes, I'm serious," he responds. "Did we win?"

You let out a frustrated breath. "You were up by two with barely more than a minute left. Of course you won," you answer. "Then I'm fine," he says. You feel like you could smack him. Why must he be so difficult? Why couldn't he just answer your question.

"Dean. What happened?" You demand. You can hear the edge in your voice.

"It's just a minor concussion. It was nothing. I'll be fine," he says dismissively.

"It was not nothing," you argue.

"It's hockey," he answers, as if that is explanation enough. "People get hurt. You should be used to that by now."

Sure, you've seen lots of players injured throughout the years. You've even seen Dean injured. But it was always something minor. Bumps and bruises, a sprained wrist, a broken nose one time. It wasn't the same. "I should be used to seeing you laying flat out on the ice and not moving?" You demand. Something in your voice alerts him to the fact that you're done with the joking and avoiding.

He sighs. "What do you want from me here, sweetheart? It's over and I'm fine. There's nothing more to do about it."

His question catches you off guard. What do you want from him? For him to never play hockey again? No. That wouldn't ensure he was never hurt again, and he loves it too much. There are many reasons you could never ask that of him, not the least of which being you have no right to ask. Do you want him to assure you that he's alright? Because he's already done that. So, what then? If you're being honest with yourself, what you really want is to hold onto him for a while, and for him to hold you back while your brain works on accepting the fact that he really is ok. But you can't ask that.

Instead, you agree with him. "You're right. I'm sorry. You just really scared me out there."

"I'm sorry you were so scared," he says sincerely. "But I promise, I really am ok."

"I know," you say with a forced smile. You give his hand a squeeze before leaving the room, giving the rest of the guys the privacy they've been patiently waiting for.

It's a couple weeks after the concussion incident. Things between you and Dean have been the same as usual, except they haven't been. Not really. You can't pinpoint what it is that's different, but there's definitely something. It's New Year's Eve. You're at a party with Dean and a bunch of guys from the team. Dean has been at your side all night. You wouldn't go as far as calling it weird, but... it's definitely not usual. You've attended a lot of parties together and while you make a point of knowing where the other person is and even spending a fair amount of time together, you do usually hang out with other people too. Not that you're not hanging out with anyone else. It's just that apparently you're staying together while doing it. Not that you're complaining.

The midnight countdown is fast approaching. You're not currently dating anyone so you've resigned yourself to not having a midnight kiss this year. You don't mind. You don't really see it as the big deal a lot of people seem to. You think to yourself that Dean better find someone very quick if he plans on kissing someone though. For some reason, that thought doesn't sit quite right with you. You're not sure why. You've never cared before who Dean kissed.

The countdown starts. You watch the people around you as they scurry to be near their partners. The count reaches two and you turn to Dean, preparing to clink your beers together in celebration. The count reaches one and Dean's free hand goes to rest on your cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. When he pulls away, it leaves you breathless. The room explodes into cheers and the clinking of bottles and glasses.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask, ignoring the celebration going on around you.

"Should I not have?" He asks. It's a mild question, but there's a challenge in it. As if he's daring you. But daring you to do what?

"No, it's not- I didn't say that." You're not sure what he was hoping you'd say, but this is clearly at the very least not the wrong response. He waits for you to continue. "It's just... we've both been single on New Year's Eve before. You've never kissed me."

"It's never been right before," he shrugs. He sees your confusion and explains. "You and me, I think we've been heading in this direction for a long time. And I think everyone but us could see it. It's why the guys tease us so much. It's why there's a bunch of hockey obsessed girls out there who are insanely jealous of you even though up until now there hasn't been anything to be jealous of. I think it's why all of my girlfriends haven't liked you very much and your boyfriends have hated me."

"I wouldn't say they hated you," you protest. You're not sure why. It's probably the nerves at the implications of what he's saying. It makes you feel better to say something, unhelpful as it may be. He just gives you a look before continuing.

"I don't know if we honestly didn't know we felt this way or were just lying to ourselves about it. But you can't tell me things haven't been different between us lately. I know it's not just me." Was he right? Was that the change you've been noticing? You're not sure if you would have come to this conclusion on your own. After all, this was Dean. Steady, reliable, Dean who you've never seen as more than a friend. But now that the possibility has been brought up, now that he's kissed you, you can't deny what you're feeling.

"Things have been different," you admit. "I just..." How to finish that sentence. You just what? Never saw Dean in that way? Not untrue, but what was the point in bringing it up? Objectively you've always been able to clearly see why other girls fought tooth and nail for his attention. And now that you are looking at him that way, it is a pointless statement. You weren't expecting it? Also true, but obvious enough without having to say it.

Dean is usually good about letting you sort through your thoughts at times like this, but today he doesn't have the patience. "You just what?" He prompts. "Didn't expect the night to go like this?"

"Well no, I didn't. But that's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," you sigh, frustrated at your inability to find the words you want. You start speaking without really thinking, and thankfully the right words come to you. "I guess I just didn't realize why things were different. I noticed it, but I couldn't figure out what it was."

"And now that you know?"

You give him a little mischievous smile, feeling more confident after having some time to process. "Being just friends was getting a little boring anyway. Too predictable. I think it's about time we change things up."

Dean grins back and it lights up his face. You nearly catch your breath at the sight. Having your eyes opened to your feelings is like peeling a film off your eyes that you've lived with your entire life without knowing it's there. It's like seeing him for the first time, and he is the most stunning man you've ever seen. "Alright," he says. "Let's change it up then. If I score in under three minutes at the next game, you have to go on a date with me. Maybe you even have to kiss me."

You stop your jaw from literally dropping open, but you know he can read the look of disbelief on your face. "Your next game isn't for four days." You point out. "You're really going to make me wait that long?"

He shrugs, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye. He's all talk. "We've waited for ten years. I don't see what another few days could hurt."

"Screw that," you say. You set your beer on the table next to you and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. His hands settle automatically on the small of your back, arms around your waist, and you can feel his smile as he kisses you. You can't help but to smile back.

You're soon interrupted by a shouted, "Hey, Winchester finally got his girl!" from a drunken Benny, followed by whistles and catcalls from the rest of his teammates. You can't fight the heat that rises to your cheeks, but you sit through the ensuing teasing and congratulations as patiently as you can. Thankfully it's short lived as there's more exciting things happening -- it is a party after all -- and Dean's arm around your waist certainly helps calm your nerves.

"Don't be embarrassed," Dean says, knowing you've never been one for PDA. "You know they don't care." You aren't so embarrassed that you won't get over it in a minute or two, but you appreciate his attempts to calm you nonetheless. "And look on the bright side," he adds, brightening at whatever he's thinking. "At least now we're all on the same page the next time they call you my girl."

You smile. He's right. 'Winchester's girl' has a whole new ring to it now. It might have taken us a while to catch up, but they were right. You are, and always were, Dean's girl.

Secondary note: I realize I switch tenses halfway through this. I don't really feel like fixing it though. Also, I've tried to at least keep the present tense section all present tense, but I wouldn't be surprised if I'm switching back and forth. I usually write in past tense and found myself reverting back to it without realizing multiple times. I've reread it to try and catch anything, but it's late and I'm tired, so I probably missed some. I'll probably read this over again sometime in the next day or two to find any errors, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[svechnikovvv]

roadies

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: panic attack, don’t think there’s any profanity

summary: jack is on the other side of the u.s for his roadies and something happens with him.

a/n: my writing schedule has been messed up 🫠 back at school and apush is kicking my ass. so apologies for the lack of content.

masterlist: here

jack was currently on the other side of the united states playing the kraken.

i make my way to the bar downtown to watch the game since they always play every devil’s game.

“y/n! there she is!” i smile and take a seat at the bar.

“tito! how’ve you been?”

“i’ve been hangin’ in there.” he nods up at the tv. “you here for the game?”

“you know me so well.” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“you watch every game of his, huh?” i nod proudly

“what’ll it be tonight? shirley temple?”

“i drove here. just pour me a water?” he nods and pours me a glass of water, sliding it down to me. i take it and take a big sip of it. i look up at the tv and see there’s only five more minutes until puck drop.

“you think benny will make me one of his famous burgers?”

“he’s been asking when you’d come back again. told ‘em there’s a game soon so you’ll be back quick. but let me go ask.” he then walks off into the back and i sit there, sipping on my water. i look around and see some familiar faces, some new ones.

soon, the puck drops and i see jack front and center. i get excited at seeing him and they win face-off. tito walks by and looks at the tv. he points up at it.

“there’s jackson. tell him he needs a haircut.” he then walks back off and i laugh to myself at his comment. i loved jack’s long hair, but it did need a bit of a trim.

a plate is then placed in front of me and i see it’s my burger.

“wondering when you’d come back, kid.”

“now benny, you make the best burgers in jersey. i would never forget about you.” he rolls his eyes and slings his towel over his shoulder.

“they score yet?” i shake my head

“he’s gonna score the first goal. kid’s got magic”

“whatever you say, benny.” he shrugs and walks back into the back. i take a big bite of my burger and the taste is amazing. he always manages to make them taste better every time. i didn’t understand it. i look up at the tv as i eat my burger and sip on my water, and jack then scores a goal. benny was right.

everyone in the bar, including me, starts cheering. everyone continues to watch the game and then nico scores the next goal.

it was down to the last few seconds, and they were tied.

“cmon j, score” i whisper and as soon as the devil’s get the puck down to seattle’s side, the buzzer goes off. end of regulation.

“oh come on! hughes was about to fuckin’ score!” i hear someone yell at the tv and it makes me laugh. i anxiously watch the tv as OT is now underway. everyone else in the bar is tense as well and watching the game.

nico wins face-off and everyone cheers. the kraken and devil’s continue to go back and forth and soon, OT ends and it’s time for shoot-out. the whole bar goes quiet as we watch.

first up is nico and some other guy and they both make their shots. next is jack and a younger guy and the other guy makes his.

“you got this jack,” i whisper to myself and watch the tv closely. he misses his shot, resulting in the kraken winning.

“damnit!” someone yells and i deflate slightly. they played a good game nonetheless, but i know jack’s going to take this to heart. i say goodbye to tito and benny and make my way back home.

an hour or so later, i get a call from jack. i answer it and i can hear sporadic breathing on the other side.

“i need you.”

“what’s wrong?”

“so much.”

“hey, take a deep breath in.” i hear him inhale on the other end.

“now breathe out.” he exhaled and does that two more times before he tells me what’s all happening.

“i feel so awful. i lost us the game. i disappointed everyone. and i found out i sprained my wrist in the third.”

“jack, baby, you didn’t disappoint anyone. you were playing on a sprained wrist. yeah, it isn’t the brightest idea, but it also affects your performance. it’s not your fault, my love. you went out there and played your best and you did a damn amazing job. tito, benny and i were cheering for you the whole game.”

“really?” he quietly asks

“absolutely. couldn’t be more proud. did you get something for your wrist?”

“yeah. nico took me to the hospital and i got it checked out. can’t play for a while”

“i’m sorry babe. i know how much hockey means to you.”

“that means i get more time with you.”

“it sure does. i’ll take care of you until it heals again if i have to.” i hear him slightly sniffle and i assume he’s stopped crying.

“if it makes you feel any better, tito said you need a haircut.” i hear him quietly laugh and i smile. anything is better than him crying. i hate when he cried, it absolutely broke my heart.

“i do need a trim. anyways, i’m going to go to sleep. im exhausted. i love you though. so much. thank you for always being my listening ear.”

“you don’t have to thank me for anything, j. but go get you some rest, you deserve it. i love you” he then hangs up and i go to sleep with him on my mind. thankfully, he only had two more games over there and he was back to new jersey. obviously he wouldn’t be able to play, but showing up was better than nothing.

that’s the one downside about roadies. something happens and you’re not there to help. hopefully these next few days go by quick.

the days pass by and i get a text from nico saying they’re back in town. i grab my keys and rush over to the arena to pick up jack. i end up getting there before the bus does. only ten minutes, but still earlier than it.

when i see the bus pull up, i head inside and walk to where i need to go. i then see all the guys coming out and some of them give me a wave. jack then rounds the corner with nico and nico nudges him on the shoulder and nods in my direction. jack looks and when he sees me, he drops all of his stuff and runs over to me. i pull him into a hug, being cautious of his wrist. his arms wrapped around me as best as they could and mine go around his neck.

“hi j. i missed you”

“god, you have no idea how much i’ve missed you. i’ve been so miserable.” i pull apart from him and cup his face with my hands.

“i’m here now, yeah?” he nods and i place a kiss on his nose, causing him to scrunch it up.

“come on, let’s get home. we’re long overdue for some cuddles.” he nods and grabs his stuff, taking my hand with his non-injured one and we walk to my car.

tags: @goldenbrokenheart @alhanna05 @woodruff-edwards @i-padfootblack-things @fanboysfangirl @hughesx3 @austinbutlerscaresme @theywantedplayer

a/n: guess who lost her airpods at the park 🫠

[possumcollege]

Most fantasy realms score their street scenes with the dooting of ren-faire flutes, epic orchestral fanfare, or a nice royalty-free oud number if they're feeling mysterious in a racist kind of way.

Know now that the bustling, prosperous, and as-yet-unnamed urban landscape of Crittertongue is just lousy with big band covers of early 90s EDM. Like Rhythm is a Dancer by Chick Webb. Like if Duke Ellington played Mr Vain. Pump Up the Jam by way of Benny Goodman.

The city's a centuries-old conglomeration of cultures, traditions, tastes, styles, and influences that span generations across numerous intermingling species. As with any dense cohabitation of sentient beings, there are sounds endemic to particular enclaves, neighborhoods, guilds, settlements, and subcultures. Music is borne through time on the shoulders of novelty, nostalgia, and the creative urges of beings longing to speak and be heard.

For the most part, in Crittertongue that sounds like Eurodance fucked the Jazz Age.

[lepartidelamort]

AP Finally Reports Israel is Losing the War, So This is Now a Big News Story

Andrew Anglin

The way the Western media functions is super bizarre. Basically, we have all of these different sources of information now – social media and foreign media – but Western society acts like something isn’t true until there is a big report from a legacy media outlet.

We’ve been reporting that Hamas still exists and hasn’t really been deterred at all by Israel, despite the fact that Israel has destroyed most residential buildings in northern Gaza. We’ve been reporting that Hamas is actually moving back to positions they’d abandoned in northern Gaza – positions that are good for firing rockets into Israel.

This information was all widely available and not any type of secret. But the media wasn’t reporting it widely, so no one was talking about it. Then, this week, the Associated Press prints a big thing about “actually, Hamas is doing pretty well,” and then all of a sudden this is a big story.

AP:

Diminished but not deterred, Hamas is still putting up a fight after seven brutal months of war with Israel, regrouping in some of the hardest-hit areas in northern Gaza and resuming rocket attacks into nearby Israeli communities. Israel initially made tactical advances against Hamas after a devastating aerial bombardment paved the way for its ground troops. But those early gains have given way to a grinding struggle against an adaptable insurgency — and a growing feeling among many Israelis that their military faces only bad options, drawing comparisons with U.S. wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. This was the subtext of a rebellion in recent days by two members of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s three-man War Cabinet — Defense Minister Yoav Gallant and Benny Gantz, Netanyahu’s main political rival — who demanded that he come up with detailed postwar plans. They supported Israel’s retaliation for Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack, including one of the heaviest bombing campaigns in recent history, ground operations that obliterated entire neighborhoods and border restrictions that the U.N.’s World Food Program says pushed parts of the territory into famine.

It’s not “one of the heaviest bombing campaigns in recent history,” it’s “the single heaviest bombing campaign since World War II.” Gaza is obviously a small area, but inch for inch, it’s worse than the bombings of Dresden or Japan, meaning that it would actually be accurate to call it “the heaviest bombing campaign in all of history.”

But now the two retired generals fear a prolonged, costly re-occupation of Gaza, from which Israel withdrew soldiers and settlers in 2005. They are also opposed to a withdrawal that would leave Hamas in control or lead to the establishment of a Palestinian state. Instead, they have put forth alternatives that many Israelis see as wildly unrealistic. Hamas, meanwhile, has proposed its own postwar plan. Here’s a look at four ways this war might end. FULL-SCALE MILITARY OCCUPATION Netanyahu has promised a “total victory” that would remove Hamas from power, dismantle its military capabilities and return the scores of hostages it still holds from the attack that triggered the war. He has said victory could come within weeks if Israel launches a full-scale invasion of Rafah, which Israel portrays as the last Hamas stronghold. Amir Avivi, a retired Israeli general and former deputy commander of the Gaza division, says that’s only the beginning. He said Israel would need to remain in control to prevent Hamas from regrouping. … A LIGHTER OCCUPATION, AIDED BY ‘UNICORNS’ Netanyahu has said Israel will maintain security control over Gaza but delegate civilian administration to local Palestinians unaffiliated with Hamas or the Western-backed Palestinian Authority, which governs parts of the occupied West Bank. He has suggested that Arab and other countries assist with governance and rebuilding. But so far, none have shown interest. … A GRAND BARGAIN Instead, Arab states have coalesced around a U.S. proposal aimed at resolving the decades-old conflict and transforming the Middle East. Under this plan, a reformed Palestinian Authority would govern Gaza with the assistance of Arab and Muslim nations, including Saudi Arabia, which would normalize relations with Israel in return for a U.S. defense pact and help in building a civilian nuclear program. But U.S. and Saudi officials say that hinges on Israel committing to a credible path to eventual Palestinian statehood. Netanyahu has ruled out such a scenario — as have Gallant and Gantz — saying it would reward Hamas and result in a militant-run state on Israel’s borders. … A DEAL WITH HAMAS Hamas has proposed a very different grand bargain — one that, ironically enough, might be more palatable to Israelis than the U.S.-Saudi deal. The militant group has proposed a phased agreement in which it would release all of the hostages in return for hundreds of Palestinian prisoners — including senior militants — as well as the withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza, a lengthy cease-fire and reconstruction. That would almost certainly leave Hamas in control of Gaza and potentially allow it to rebuild its military capabilities. Hamas might even claim victory, despite the extensive death and destruction suffered by Palestinian civilians since Oct. 7. But thousands of Israeli protesters have taken to the streets in recent weeks calling on their leaders to take such a deal, because it’s probably the only way to get the hostages back.

They “might even claim victory”? What the hell kind of sentence is that?

Yeah, I think after a full Israeli surrender, Hamas would claim victory. I think, in fact, everyone in the world other than the American media would acknowledge this not only as a victory, but as the single greatest victory of a paramilitary resistance group in all of history.

“Yeah but we killed a lot of people though” is not the definition of a military victory. If that were the case, the US would be recorded as having won in both Vietnam and Afghanistan, where they for sure killed a whole lot of people before offering unconditional surrenders.

But it’s not going to happen that way in Gaza.

The only real option for Israel is to continue to escalate this campaign outside of Gaza to the point where people just sort of forget about Gaza. This is fine for the Jews, because that was always the plan in the first place.

[silversoulstardust]

“Have you got what it takes, Eddie?” challenges Steve with a smug smile. “2 vs 2. The goal here is to help Lucas practise his offence and defence. Team with the highest scores win.”

“And the reward is?” asks Eddie, rubbing his chin as he considers, lips curling at the corners, looking like he’s already 75 percent sure he’s joining them, but needed that extra 25 percent push. 

It didn’t occur to Steve to have a reward at the end of the practice because well, as a former sportsman, practice is practice, and it’s done once they are done, with nothing more to it. So he makes one up on the spot, just because Eddie asks for one. “A treat to Benny’s Burger.” He points in the general direction of the store, two blocks away from the park.

With hands on his hips Eddie hums, kicking a pebble under his feet. Moments later he looks up, beaming at Steve with a conceited smile inches away from his face. “Game on, big boy.”

Eddie sheds his leather jacket and vest, handing it to Dustin for safekeeping. He then fishes a hair tie from his pocket and places it between his lips as he gather his curls up to tie it in a loose bun, with side fringes framing his face. Suddenly the weather gets unbearably hot and Steve’s throat goes dry. The sight of a sliver of skin of Eddie’s hips at the motion is making him blush, like a Victorian man who caught a glimpse of a woman’s ankle. Except that it’s not a woman, it’s Eddie, and it’s not an ankle, it’s the sharp bony part of his hips above the waist of his black skinny jeans. 

Steve looks around at the others present on that courtside. Dustin is too focused on slowing down his breath, staring at his feet as he heaves his chest to inhale and exhale in controlled rhythm. Lucas’ eyes are trained on the basketball he’s bouncing against the concrete ground, passing it between his legs and around his body with practised ease. Mike is the only one who probably shares the same sentiment as Steve. He too, was looking at Eddie when Eddie’s shirt rides up while he was tying his hair. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, fanning himself at the collar of his shirt. Right. Mike saw it too, and he’s reacting the same way Steve does. This is a totally normal reaction. Steve’s fairly sure of it. 

-- Whatever It Takes, chapter 3

Reposting an excerpt from a fic of mine, the one where Steve travels back in time to save Eddie. Read the rest of it here <3

[adventure-showdown]

What is your favourite Doctor Who story?

ROUND 1 MASTERPOST

synopses and propaganda under the cut

The Magic Mousetrap

Synopsis

Switzerland, 1926: the Doctor finds himself halfway up an Alpine mountainside, on his way to an exclusive sanatorium for the rich and famous run by the Viennese alienist Ludovic "Ludo" Comfort. In between bouts of electric shock therapy, Ludo's patients — including faded music hall turn Harry Randall, chess grandmaster Swapnil Khan and Lola Luna, darling of the Weimar cabaret scene — fill their time with endless rounds of Snap!, among other diversions.

But the Doctor soon suspects that someone's playing an altogether more sinister game. Someone with a score to settle...

Propaganda

Great atmosphere and mystery. Probably its villain's best appearance, although saying who that is would be a spoiler. (anonymous)

The Company of Friends: Benny’s Story

Synopsis

Deep in the mines of Epsilon Minima, Professor Bernice Summerfield is up to her neck in it — as usual. The Countess Venhella has hired her to recover a lost Time Lord artefact: a TARDIS key, it turns out. Guess whose?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Company of Friends: Fitz’s Story

Synopsis

On the planet Entusso, the Doctor and Fitz Kreiner investigate Alien Defence Incorporated - your one-stop shop for protection against extraterrestrial invasion! But which is the greatest menace: the hideous Vermin Queens or ADI itself?

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Company of Friends: Izzy’s Story

Synopsis

TARDIS travel opens one's eyes to a universe of possibilities, reckons the Doctor. For geek girl Izzy, it's also a fantastic way to track down ultra-rare back copies of Aggrotron!, the most dangerous comic in history...

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

The Company of Friends: Mary’s Story

Synopsis

Switzerland, 1816: at the Villa Diodati, Lord Byron's house guests tell each other tales to curdle the blood and quicken the beatings of the heart. With a monster on the loose outside, young Mary Shelley isn't short of inspiration.

Propaganda no propaganda submitted

A Death in the Family

Synopsis

"The future folds into the past. The homeless hero has fallen. Now begins the time of three tales: The Tale of the Herald. The Tale of the Hidden Woman. The Tale of the Final Speaker. When the last tale is told, all the lights shall fail. The world will end."

21st century London: Nobody No One, the extra-dimensional Word Lord, is again running amok. Only this time, he's unbeatable — and a terrible tragedy is about to unfold.

It is written.

Propaganda

Possibly the wildest and most wonderful plot of any audio, ever. The villain is none other than Nobody No-One, a Word Lord who has the power to rewrite the world using language itself. There’s wordplay, there are exploding duck ponds, there’s grief, there’s Ace being awesome, there’s Hex being sad, there’s the acceptance of one’s own inevitable death, there’s an infinite, living, eternal story where an entire planet’s dead go to live out their afterlife… The whole thing is a love letter to Doctor Who, and it’s as strange, sad, funny, and brilliant as the show gets. Also— spoilers!!— big spoilers— on top of all that, it’s Evelyn’s final story, and the final episode makes me weep every time. (@partiallithopseffect )

[bettyweir]

Old Fresh TV Article

My Babysitter’s a Vampire Music: The Big Score

January 29, 2013 5:44 am | by Brendan Refresh

Every so often we’ll get questions from My Babysitter’s a Vampire fans here on re:Fresh wanting to know the track names for all of the music used in the show.

The answer is actually perfectly simple: there aren’t any!

Yabuhwah?

Alright, so maybe it’s a little more complicated than that.

All of the music for My Babysitter’s a Vampire is created specifically for the show by composers like Jarrett Randazzo led by our music director Earl Torno.

Collectively, the music used for any kind of production, be it television show, movie or even stage play, is called ‘the score’.

Not like your high score on Humans VS. Vampires; ‘scoring’ can also mean arranging music for a particular instrument.

That means that those pieces didn’t exist before they were created for the scene they’re used in and generally don’t have the sorts of names you’d see on an album.

Incidental Fight Scene Track 7 doesn’t exactly pop on the Top 40 chart!

It may seem strange to go to all the trouble of coming up with whole new pieces instead of just using music that’s already out there but there are two main reasons why it makes more sense.

First, the legal side of using music or any kind of audio created by someone else is trickier than you might think.

A licensing agreement has to be arranged where the song or specific parts of it are allowed to be used in specific ways.

For a show like My Babysitter’s a Vampire which airs in multiple countries, its even trickier since the laws governing licensing can differ around the world. That’s not even getting into having to translate lyrics into different languages or removing them so that they don’t block out the actor’s dialogue!

The second reason is on the other side of the coin: instead of being about practicality it’s about artistry!

This probably won’t surprise any of you, but we take making every episode of every show we make as amazing as it can be.

Crafting music specifically for each scene means that the timing of each note can be chosen to perfect accentuate the suspense of a monster stalking Ethan and the gang or give subtle hints about exactly what’s going through Benny’s head without every saying a word.

With all the jokes, action and special effects right in your face it can be easy to miss the score but if its doing its job right it’ll bring the whole scene together without you ever realizing it.

What’s your favourite musical moment from My Babysitter’s a Vampire? How about another one of Fresh’s shows? Let us know in the comment section below!

[beefrobeefcal]

Dark!Frankie Saga: VII

Chapter Seven: Bring It Home

Pairing: Dark!Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. Since the original ring leader, Tom, was allegedly taken out by a rival gang, it's now run by Big Fish, with Pope second in command. Ironhead runs the numbers and Benny is the muscle. Your family member put you down as collateral when they needed credit to score more smack. Problem is, they can't pay it back, and Big Fish & the Frontiersmen always get their payment...

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Chapter Word Count: 3,740

Content Warning: angst, threats of violence, crime, snark, Major Character Death, stabbing, violence, betrayal, kissing

Author's Notes:

Y'all, I know you had big dreams for this chapter... and I thank you for your patience. Please don't hate me 🥺

The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for being the Beta Fish for Big Fish (get it? Beta'ing the story about Big Fi-... okay, you got it). Thank you, Nevy! 💜🥩💜

thank you to the following for being supportive good eggs & sounding boards: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @xdaddysprincessxx @thehalflifeofloveisforever @rebel-held @gracieispunk

And this is not the Chubby!Frankie we know and love in the Catfish & the Mouse universe; he's dark, mean, and hungry. I'll be updating this each week (Monday/Tuesday) until you lose interest or I finish it - let's see what happens first! when i feel like it👌

On the Waterfront Masterlist | Previous Chapter

--------<3---------

From the time Frankie pulled you onto his lap at the bowling alley to when he stood with you at your bedroom door, you felt like you were in a dream. A beautiful, hazy dream that you were pretty sure was going to end with him fucking you in your bed.

“You did good tonight, Honey.”, Frankie said sweetly, cupping your jaw and cheek in his big hand.

You couldn’t help but stare back, falling further for him through his deep, brown eyes. He but the softness in his gaze hardened as he sucked in a breath and released your face, stepping back. He broke the connection with you and looked away. He cleared his throat and nodded towards your door, leaving you feeling cold and confused. What did you do wrong?

“Night, baby girl...”, he mumbled as he turned, heading towards the lounge.

You opened your mouth to say something to him, but all you could do was feel your body react to the lack of his touch and your cheeks burn from the rogue tears that fell. You were alone in the hallway, and you didn’t know why.

*****

Pope had been outside in the shadows, trying to remain inconspicuous while on his phone, when the blacked-out SUV pulled up at the front doors.

“Yes, I know!... fuck you... I’ll call you back...”, he hissed quietly into his phone before ending the call and focused on the two of you returning.

He watched as Frankie got out of the SUV, holding his hand out to you, and saw the stupid look on Frankie’s face as he helped you down from the vehicle. Pope shook his head and rolled his eyes, watching Frankie pull you in for a disgustingly sweet kiss before he tugged you into the building.

He scoffed as he brought his phone back up to call his contact back, a message popped up on the screen.

Steven is done. Now what?

Pope grinned as his deviously sadistic mind’s wheels turned; he pocketed his phone and walked into the building.

*****

Frankie’s heart was beating fast as he walked away from you, and his palms were sweating as he clenched his fists. He didn’t stop until he was standing in his office, shakily sucking in his breaths, and he allowed himself to think about what had just happened. It was one thing for him to go down on you in the bowling alley and hold you as your body came back down – he was still in control. But looking in your eyes as you looked back at him, seeing the same thing he felt staring right back told him he was no longer holding the reigns in this, and it terrified him to his core. He felt like you could see who he really was under his harsh and mean exterior; under it all he was just the former drug addict who battled his demons daily to keep himself upright; just the man who made himself bigger so he could be respected, because no one was going to respect a scrawny junkie. And if you did see it, why did you still want him at all? Did you see weakness? Did you know that just asking him for a kiss would make him weak in the knees? Why did he allow you to get under his skin?

He was finally broken from his trance when the door to the office opened behind him. Frankie whirled around and found himself facing Pope.

“Fish... you got a sec?”, Pope asked, cautiously approaching him, with a judgmental eyebrow raised. When Frankie nodded, trying to shake the weakness of you from his mind, Pope nodded back in kind.

“What d’you need?”, Frankie said coolly as he made his way around his desk and sat down heavily on his chair.

Pope walked up to the desk and leaned heavily on, deciding not to tell Frankie that he saw him come back with you, and how he saw the look on his face and knew what it meant. He instead decided to set in motion what he hoped would be the last thing he needed to.

“I got a message... from one of the grunts under Will... he was making the rounds and checking in on people that owe us...”, he said quietly, trying to sound nervous about what he was going to say. “and, he - uh…”,

“Fuckin’ spit it out, Pope.”, Frankie groaned after a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes.

“He went to Steven’s...”

“Who the fuck is that and why do I care?”, he growled, not looking up at him. “Get to the fuckin’ point!”

“It’s your girl’s brother...”

“What about him?”

“He’s dead.”

Frankie looked up at Pope, feeling his blood run cold.

*****

After being left on your own, you sat in your room, feeling the buzz from the beer slipping away and letting your thoughts drift towards more nefarious avenues. It hurt to know that no matter what happened, you would end up alone; your brother sold you out for more drugs, Benny hated and abandoned you, Will threw you into the lion’s den, and Frankie didn’t want you beyond getting what he could from you. And Pope... you knew what Pope wanted and it made your skin crawl.

The tears that you’d cried had mixed with your make up had dried on your face, leaving your skin feeling itchy and tacky. You needed to clean yourself up and give yourself some comfort, even if it was small. You stepped into the shower and tried to wash away your sadness.

After drying off and getting into your pajamas, you once again sat in your room alone. The weight of solitude was heavy on you, so much so, you could barely stand it. All you could do was pick up your Kindle and try to distract yourself until you fell asleep.

*****

Benny sat back and watched the other guys play a round of foosball. They’d invited him to join but he’d waved them off. He’d wanted to sulk and be angry with no interference; he couldn’t get your face out of his head from the last time he’d seen you the night before, and Frankie’s words to him sounded off like a fire alarm in his skull: She’s not here for you. Stick your dick in literally anything else, but that is mine.

He’d replayed your last interaction with him over and over in his mind over the past 24 hours, building up more rage and fury over how stupid you were being. He didn’t want you for himself; he wanted something better for you. There’s no way Frankie could offer you what you deserve. Fuck, no one in this fucking building could. He sneered as he shook his head, anger rising further each time Frankie’s words bleated in his brain and deafened the rest of his thoughts. Frankie told him to fuck anything like you weren’t even a person. You were just part of the wide scope of anything, like an object he could own and devour like he did everything else he wanted.

Will watched Benny silently from across the room. He saw his brother furiously twisting his hands and clenching his jaw; saw the vein in his forehead pop out as his face turned red with rage. Will knew he was at fault for this; he knew Benny had a soft spot for vulnerable people, especially women. He knew Frankie was wrong about how Benny felt, but he wasn’t willing to correct him and confirm that Benny wanted to fuck her as much as Frankie wanted to diet. But the powder keg that was hitting a critical point across the room in his brother was far more worrisome than he’d accounted for, given even a day going by hadn’t managed to dampen his rage. Benny could be a dangerous man, given the right mindset, and he wasn't afraid of violence or being violent. It was the reason he was so valuable to the Frontiersmen - he wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty for the right cause, and Will worried that you were becoming the right reason for Benny to unleash that terrible dog in him at Frankie.

As Will decided it was in everyone’s best interest to try and quell the fire, Pope walked in with a smug grin aimed directly at his brother, and Will felt like he was about to watch a train derail.

“What’s with the long face, fucker?”, Pope crooned sadistically as he sauntered towards Benny.

“Fuck off, Pope.”, he growled in response, his eyes glaring up at the smiling man.

 Will saw the determined, toothy smile breakout over Pope’s face as he squatted down in front of Benny.

“What’s the matter, baby Benny?”, Pope mockingly cooed, amusement bleeding from his tone. “You mad that Fish is cockblocking you from that sweet little puss – “

Benny’s hand jutting out and gripping Pope’s throat stopped him from finishing his sentence. He stood up, pulling Pope into a standing position as he stared wide eyed and clawed at Benny’s arm and wrist, gasping and choking.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”, Benny snarled, pulling Pope’s face close to his.

Will ran up beside Benny and gripped his shoulder, shaking him. “Benny! Drop’im!”

He yanked Benny’s arm back and Pope collapsed on the floor, gasping and coughing.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS OFF ME!”, Benny roared as Will’s arms wrapped around him form behind and pulled him back.

“Fuck you, Pope! Fuck you 'n fuck your fuckin’ smug mouth!”, Benny screamed at him as Will continued to restrain him. ‘FUCK, WILL! LET ME THE FUCK GO! I’ll FUCKIN’ KILL YOU!”

Will knew Benny didn’t mean it. Sure, he’d probably take a swing and hit him – he’d done it before. But beyond that, he knew it was Benny’s rage talking.

Pope shakily looked up at Benny and offered him a cruel smile. Benny saw red; that fucker fueled his blinding rage, and he threw Will off him, storming out of the rec room.

“Don’t move, Pope!”, Will yelled, pointing his finger at him as he turned and ran out after Benny.

Pope smiled, watching him leave after his brother, seeing a brand-new opportunity. Fortune favours the brave…

*****

Benny was on a rampage. Like a rabid bear, he stalked the hallways, making a beeline to the barracks. He’d walked right past Frankie’s office, not even considering stopping there first to tear into him over what he was doing. Will quickly caught up to him, yelling for him to stop.

Frankie sat in his office chair. He heard heavy footsteps coming towards the door and he looked up, but they moved past.  He thought nothing of it until he heard Will.

“Ben! Stop!... Stop 'n take a fuckin’ breather, man!”

“FUCK YOU AND FUCK POPE AND FUCK FISH AND FUCK THAT STUPID BITCH!”

“You’re not thinkin’ this through! You don’t wanna hurt her, Ben! BENNY!”

Will’s panicked voice caught Frankie’s attention and he stood up, listening to the sounds move further down the hallway. He knew not to get in Benny’s way when he was mad, but he was heading towards you and the idea of Benny being in this foul of a mood and even Will wasn’t able to placate him didn’t sit well with him.

Benny threw the doors to the Barracks open and screamed your name. Even being in a separate area, the volume at which he called you made you jump. You dropped your Kindle on the bed and moved cautiously to your door. You clicked the flimsy lock on the doorknob, and you jumped heard the door to the hallway slam against the wall from how hard it was flung open.

Your heart was beating deafeningly loud in your ears, and you backed away from the door as the thumping footsteps got closer and your doorknob jiggled.

Just as soon as you were mentally thanking what every deity was listening for that lock, the door was kicked open and there was Benny. Breathing hard, his face twisted in a snarl and his fists clenched.

You looked up at him, not sure what he was going to do. “Benny... wha - “

“You're so fuckin’ dumb!”, he yelled, stomping towards you and cutting you off. “You’re fuckin’ smarter than this!”

He stood over you, his hot furious breaths fanning over your face. You tried to back away, but he grabbed at your arm.

“Don’t fuckin’ move!”, he yelled in your face, his hold on you tightening.

You yelped and tried to pull away from his grip. He shoved you back, sending you to the floor. Shock gave way to fear and anger as he stalked towards you, and you scrambled back into a standing position.

“Just fuckin’ stay down, you- “

“What do you want from me?!”, you cut him off, yelling in a cracked voice as tears welled up in your eyes.

His eyes narrowed at you and his scowl set further in his face. “I want you to smarten the fuck up! I want you to stop bein’ a dumb bitch!”

You angrily wiped at the tear that fell down your cheek, and, for a brief moment, Benny’s eyes looked at you almost horrified at what was happening. Your face contorted with a frown, and you pushed him with all your strength, making him take a small step back to keep his balance.

Neither of you knew that Will was in the hallway watching this unfold, not sure how to intervene, and his focus was torn away from you both as Frankie walked into the hallway and stood next to Will, ready to jump in.

“What is your problem?!”, you screamed at him.

His menacing glare returned, and he stepped up to you, challenging you.

“My fuckin’ problem is you’re not thinkin’ with your goddamned brain!”, he bellowed. “My problem is you’re thinkin’ with your pussy like a fuckin’ whore- “

Before you could register your actions, your hand harshly made contact with his face; you slapped him hard.

The room fell silent, and Benny’s head snapped back to you, all fury gone. What was left was the look of hurt and disappointment, and you weren’t sure who it was directed at – you or himself. Will rushed in and grabbed Benny, hauling him back. Benny’s eyes didn’t leave yours until Will had dragged him out of the room, cursing at him for his temper.

And once again, you were alone. Your chin quivered and your body trembled as the rage dissipated from your system, replaced with shame and remorse. What did you do?

Before you could collapse under the weight of your actions, Frankie stepped into the doorway.

You raised your eyes to him and held back a sob as you shook your head, silently saying please – I can’t handle any more.

“Baby girl...”, he spoke softly as he walked slowly towards you and pulled you into his arms. You tried pushing him back, but he gently used his strength against you, holding you in his embrace. His gentleness after the harsh intensity of what you’d just experienced with Benny broke you, and you let out a heavy sob that wracked your body. His large hand held your head against his chest and he murmured softly, trying to soothe you.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl... come on, Honey... calm down... he’s gone... I know, baby... I know... he’s gone now... I’m sorry... he doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground, baby... he doesn’t know what he's talkin’ about...”

“Stop... just stop!”, you squirmed out of his hold and stood back from him. You furiously wiped your face again and shook your head. “He’s right! He’s right about everyth - “

“No, baby girl... no, he’s not!”, Frankie pleaded, holding his hand out to you, beckoning you to come to him.

It made you angrier, his actions seemingly still trying to train you to be his good little bitch, coming when he calls. You shook your head, rage taking over. “I’m not a fucking dog! You don’t order me around like one!”

His voice was so soft. “Baby... Honey, please...”

“No! Mr. fucking Morales! He’s right - I’m just another one of your dumb whores that you can throw away! I’m no better than that bitch you had on your lap at the bowling alley! You just keep me like a pet and bring me out when you need a fuckin’ fix! You don’t want me - no one does!”

You didn’t realize you were screaming at him and walking towards him.  Frankie’s hands were held up, trying to calm you. His eyes were wide and pleading, his mouth was open and frowning, as he shook his head.

“Baby girl… shhhhh… no… no, Honey…”, he shook his head, and cooed, moving towards you again. “No, Honey… you got it all wrong…”

“Don’t…”, you warned as you stepped back, glaring up at him. To Frankie, you must have looked like a cornered, feral cat, fueled by rage and fear.

You didn’t intimidate him. He reached out and cupped your cheek, as he’d done countless times before, but this time you pulled out of his grasp.

You didn’t scare him. But he needed your softness back; this harsh and jaded version of you hurt him in ways he didn’t know he could be wounded. His heart ached as his other arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into him again. He smoothed his hand over your jaw, his thumb gently caressing your lips. You tried, albeit half-heartedly, to get away, but he saw the softness slipping back into your eyes.

You didn’t deter him. “Don’t push me away, baby girl…”, he said softly, bringing his face close. He ghosted his lips over yours. “I want you here… with me.”

He pressed his lips gently against yours. Your resolve to fight dissolved and you wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping for more contact with him. Opening your mouth to deepen the kiss, he followed suit, slipping his tongue against yours. You were both desperate. Yes, you’d fooled around in a bowling alley, but this was something that wasn’t scratching an itch or a power play; this was the two of you finally, without words, admitting that you needed one another on a baser, more human level.

Frankie pulled back first, breathing heavily and his eyes scanned yours, asking silently for more. You nodded, and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of your room and into his.

*****

After his run in with Benny and making sure his windpipe wasn’t crushed, Pope was back outside around the building in an alleyway. Hidden in the shadows, the only sign of his presence was his phone screen lighting up his face.

As he searched through images confirming Steven’s demise, a call came through. He answered it quietly, keeping his voice low but harsh.

“I need more time - … no, you don’t understand, he - ... I know that was the deal, but you gotta hear me out- … I can’t just… I know it has to look like an accide-… I tried! The fuckin’ little brother… Yeah… fuck, no… No… I know, but I ca-… fuck. Okay… I understand… Yes! Fuck! I got it!”

Will watched from the far end of the building. Pope’s voice, although quiet, carried, and Will’s mind raced, putting piece by piece together, not quite being able to wrap his mind around what he was hearing. He didn’t know what he was up to, but he knew he didn’t like it.

He watched as Pope hung up and stopped himself from throwing his phone against the wall, and he clenched his fists and teeth. Will moved on his feet, causing the gravel to shift and crunch under him.

“What do you want, Will?”

He stopped, feeling his body tense at Pope’s recognizing his presence, even in the dark.

“Who you talkin’ to, man?”, he asked. Will tried to keep no discernable emotion or feeling in his tone, trying to keep Pope off his anxious scent.

“No one… one of the grunts fucked up… just tryin’ to set them straight.”

Will hmm’d in acknowledgement; he knew it was a lie and he knew Pope wouldn’t be convinced that he believed him, but he knew saying anything more would probably drive more suspicion.

“I’ll ask again, Will… what do you want?”

Will moved closer to Pope, trying to keep his voice down when he spoke.

“You gotta stop rilin’ Benny up. I know you think it’s funny, but he’s gonna really fuck someone up and we don’t need that.”

“Fuck you, Will… what are you, his keeper? His fuckin’ nanny?”

“I’m the last thing keepin’ him from killin’ someone… If wasn’t there tonight, you think you would’a made it?”

“So, what you’re saying its you’re the one keeping a leash on him?”

Even in the dark, Will knew Pope was facing him. He could feel the breath on his face. He was close – too close.

“If you weren’t around, no one could stop him?”

“Jesus, man… You know he’s got a fuckin’ temper... he needs someone to hold him back.”

“Yeah, he does have a temper.”

“Then stop pushin’ him! Stop antagonizin’ him!”, Will pleaded. He heard Pope huff a laugh.

“You’re in his fucking way, Will.”

Will heard the smile in Pope’s voice, and his blood ran cold.

“The fuck is that supposed’ta mean?”

Pope got close to Will and grabbed the back of his neck and held his face to his.

“You’re in my fucking way.”

Will felt a sharp sting in his stomach, and then warmth. Wet, hot warmth on the skin of his abdomen. The sharp sting erupted into searing pain, and he sucked in a ragged breath as his head spun.

“Santi… wha- don’t….”

“Fuck you, Will.”, Pope huskily whispered, ripping the knife out of Will’s gut. “This is on you. You wouldn’t let him just...”

“San-Santi? Pope? … why?” Will gasped, stepping back and clutching his middle. He stared up at Pope, wide eyed and trembling as he fell against the wall behind him and slid down to the ground. A tear slipped down his face as he watched his friend – his murderer – turn and walk away, leaving him alone in the alley to slip away into the inky darkness.

--------<3---------

TAGLIST:

@theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @blackfemalenerd @toxicanonymity @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @gwendibleywrites @romanarose

[bellebridgerton]

Best Buddies: Chapter 2 (Modern Benedict Bridgerton x plus size!fem!reader)

✨Masterlist✨

✨Last Chapter✨

Benedict woke up in the morning, he felt Y/n still in his arms. He looked at his left arm and noticed the black bandage, Benedict carefully lifted it off his arm to look at his new tattoo. It was beautiful, an old fashioned paint pallet, it looked like swatches of paint covered the pallet. He knew she was skilled, and he was proud to have her art on his body. Benedict gently stroked her hair, kissing her temple, he would stay in bed with her all day if he could.

Y/n shifted against Benedict and opened her eyes, "Good morning, Benny." She looked at his arm, gently touched around his new tattoo, "It suits you, full of color, expressive."

Benedict rubbed her lower back, "It's perfect, love." He pulled her closer, if that was possible, "What are your plans for today?"

Y/n rested her chin on his chest, "Not much, probably draw, read, bug you. What do you have planned?"

Benedict chuckled, "Well, I have to check my score for the exam, but other than that, I'm free today." He picked up his phone and checked his school email, opening the email about the exam. Benedict saw that he aced it, he leapt up from his bed and threw open the window, yelling, "YOU SHALL ALL BARE WITNESS TO MY TALENTS!"

Y/n sat up in bed, laughing, "You're such a dork, Benny!" She got up and gently pulled him back inside, "I'm so happy for you, but you need to relax a bit."

Benedict pulled her into his lap, "Thank you, love. What should we do to celebrate?"

Y/n gently played with his hair, "We could have a lazy day, whatever you want."

Benedict smiled, "That sounds great, what do you want for breakfast?"

"Surprise me!," Y/n stood up from his lap, "I'm going to take a shower." She walks to the master bathroom, swaying her hips.

Benedict couldn't tear his eyes away from her arse.

~

Slipping on her pajamas, Y/n was quick to leave her bedroom for Benedict's. She laughed and smacked at his hands playfully when he greedily pulled her into his bed.

Benedict sat up, "I want to cuddle. I missed you."

Y/n smiled wickedly, "I was only gone for like 30 minutes!"

He ignored her expression, "Don't care, I want to cuddle."

"Okay, okay, get comfy then," Y/n resigned herself to whatever Benedict wanted.

Benedict rested his head against Y/n's chest, he didn't let her be the big spoon very often, but he couldn't say no to being close to her. His eyes were heavy in relaxation as Y/n's fingertips gently raked over his scalp. If she truly knew how much he enjoyed her touch, he'd constantly be at her mercy, even more so than he already was.

Y/n wasn't watching the show Benedict had picked, her focus was more on him. They didn't get to have many moments like this. She loved his family, sometimes more than her own, but they were certainly nosey. Although, she'd like to think they wouldn't have been who they were without being in one another's business, at least a little bit.

Y/n soaked up all the alone time she could get with Benedict, getting lost in the feeling of his back shifting against her as he breathed, the small sounds he made that he didn't notice, but she did.

There was a knock at the door, he reluctantly got up and answered the door. His mother, Violet, was on the other side of the door.

Violet smiled, seeing her second eldest son and Y/n. Violet adored Y/n, she was like the fifth daughter Violet never had. Violet saw the love Y/n and Benedict shared, even if they can't see it. She hugged Y/n, "Hello, dearest!" Violet kissed Y/n's cheek, "I'm glad you're here, I have missed you."

Y/n blushed, hugging Violet back, "Hello, Violet! Awe, it's not even been a week since we last saw each other."

Violet looked at Y/n lovingly, "Dearest, you are practically my child, I miss you all the time."

Benedict watched from the living room and chuckled, "Hello, Mother. What brings you here?"

Violet moved her gaze to Benedict, "Can I not drop in on you? I am your mother, after all." Benedict raised his eyebrow at her, not that he minded her visit, he just could tell she was up to something. Violet sighed, "You caught me, dearest. We're having a very large party, and I want you two to attend. The party is this Saturday, it starts at 8 in the evening. It's very formal, there will be a lot of family as well. Also, it will last the whole weekend, so pack a bag!"

Benedict nodded and walked over to his mother, "Yeah, I'll be there." He didn't want to speak for Y/n, he'd made that mistake before and she put him in his place.

"I'd love to go, I'll likely arrive with Benny, as always," Y/n always tagged along with Benedict to family events, she loved his family and had ingrained herself in his life like no one else ever had.

Benedict looked at his mother, "Would you like some tea, Mum?"

Violet smiled, "That sounds lovely, dearest, but I must get going, much to do for the party! It was lovely to see you two, I will see you both soon!" She touched both Y/n and Benedict's cheeks at the same time, placed a kiss on Benedict's cheek, then kissed Y/n's cheek again.

Y/n kissed Violet's cheek in return, "See you soon!"

Benedict gave his mother a gentle hug and kissed her head, "Drive safe, Mum."

Violet hugged back, "I will." As she was walking out the front door, she called back, "Love you two!"

Y/n and Benedict called to her at the same time, "Love you too!"

Benedict closed the door behind his mother, turning to Y/n, "How about we get back to relaxing?"

"Yes!," Y/n ran back to Benedict's bedroom and leapt onto his bed, getting comfy. She patted the space between her legs, so Benedict could resume his previous position from before Violet arrived.

Benedict crawled back onto the bed and laid his head on Y/n's chest "You're comfy."

Y/n laughed, "I'm glad, I think."

Benedict laughed, "It's a compliment, love."

Y/n gently played with his hair while they watched Y/n's favorite show. She watched his eyelids grow heavy, holding back a laugh when he was fighting so hard to stay awake.

~

"Benny, hey, you fell asleep an hour ago, wake up," Y/n gently shook Benedict's shoulder, she couldn't get up with him sleeping on her.

Benedict groaned and opened his eyes a bit, "Why are you waking me up?"

Y/n softly poked his cheek with her fingertip, "I need to get up, and you're heavy."

He didn't move, "But I'm comfy here."

Y/n pushed him off of her as gently as possible, "I have to use the bathroom, Benny!" She ran to the bathroom.

Benedict chuckled, "Okay love, I want to cuddle when you get back."

After a couple minutes, Y/n walked back into his bedroom, laying down with Benedict, "My turn to be the little spoon."

Benedict grabbed her and moved her like she weighed nothing, bringing a squealing laugh out of Y/n. He pulled her close to his chest and gently traced shapes on her arm.

Y/n shifted in his hold, her face eventually buried in his chest, it was her turn to nap.

Benedict kissed her hair, feeling his eyes close.

He dreamed of a life with her, it wasn't much different than their current life, but he could was able to love her the way he wanted to.

~

Y/n woke up at midnight and buried her face in Benedict's chest. She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to sleep for a few hours.

Benedict rubbed her back, "Hey love, sleep well?"

Y/n looked up at him, "Yeah, did you?"

Benedict nodded and smiled softly, "I did. Today's been perfect." Y/n nodded, relaxing into his chest.

✨Next Chapter✨

Taglist: @coolepowersthings @khaylin27 @m-rae23

[a-canker-in-a-hedge]

the people (read: like 4 of you) have spoken! musicals only jfj playlist incoming!! brace for impact!!!

curator's notes below the cut, if you're interested in that sort of thing. otherwise, have fun! maybe i'll drop the frmc one next!

Into the Fire, The Scarlet Pimpernel

I think we as a society are sleeping on The Scarlet Pimpernel the musical, it's bonkers. This one's from act 1, where the titular Scarlet Pimpernel (arguably the first masked vigilante in English literature) and his buddies take off to rescue poor trapped aristocrats from the French Revolution. In a lot of ways, it's best read in conversation with Les Mis (the original novel was written by a baroness, it's reactionary as shit), but here I think it expresses an enthusiastic (and to be clear, Bad) English nationalism that speaks to a young JFJ and precisely what he thinks he's getting out of joining the navy. He is Not Correct, as we shall see.

2. Glory, Pippin

I think this one speaks for itself. Patina Miller as Pippin's Leading Player brings a terrifying, seductive irony and contrast to this number, contrasting the horror of war with the rhetoric that convinces people to go die in the name of the king. The narrative here is I think pretty clear; this is what it's actually like to nearly die in battle. It's bizarre and dizzying and confusing and kind of silly, and you'll only make sense of it later when you can build a performance out of the experience.

3. The I Love You Song, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee

Oh James. If only mommy and daddy loved you. This one breaks my heart. Neglected children will do a lot to fill that void. This song provides context to the previous two. He wants to be loved, and he confuses love with attention and praise and power. And it will eventually kill him. Again too we see the theming of fantasy as a narrative device. James makes up stories about himself, for himself, contextualizing and recontextualizing James Fitzjames to suit his needs, whatever they may be.

4. The Last One You'd Expect, A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder

Men Will Tell Such Lies About Themselves. Gentlemen's Guide is so funny, everyone should go give the whole album a listen. I like the conclusion of this one as the high point of JFJ's pre-Terror success. Specifically, I like the struggle to stay ahead of the tidal wave he's built himself that's rolling up on his heels. It can't possibly catch up with you if you keep moving, right?

5. Where I Want to Be, Chess

CHESS THE MUSICAL BABEYYYY I AM NOTHING IF NOT ON BRAND. This is a pair with the previous song, an internal monologue as opposed to the external perception of success we've seen previously. The emptiness, the sense of loss of self, the fear and paranoia of living with one's lies, sacrifices, and the harm one's own ambition has caused those around you. It's also got those big stupid melodramatic violins. Fun Fact! The score for Chess was written by Benny and Bjorn from ABBA! I also think JFJ would have really enjoyed Mamma Mia. This is also the Josh Groban concert version, partially bc if I had to pick someone to be jfj's singing voice in the disney animated Terror, it would be him.

6. 30/90, tick, tick...BOOM!

Oh shit death is coming for you king, You Are Running Out Of Time. I feel like this one speaks for itself, if instead of grey hairs you could see the blood at your hairline. Well, not yet. But soon.

7. Is This What You Call Love?, Passion

Speaking of getting slept on, Passion my beloved. This is the most underrated Sondheim musical imo, and is one of the few songs on this playlist where I had a specific scene in mind when I added it. Yes it is that one. Songs to get punched in the face by your captain to.

8. Totally Fucked, Spring Awakening

Do I even need to say? You get it. We understand each other. Yes. This was the toughest one to fit in aesthetically with the soundscape of this playlist, but I think it works where it is.

9. You Gotta Die Sometime, Falsettos

Oh Shit Death Is Coming For You King. You Are Running Out Of Time. This is the 2nd song from a William Flynn show on this bad boy, which feels appropriate to me, somehow. I can't explain it, it's vibes. I think this song really gives JFJ a beat to breathe, to sit in the inevitability of his fate, and a bitter kind of acceptance. It works for me.

10. Any Kind of Dead Person, Ghost Quartet

And now we're having fun with it! This is the only Dave Malloy tune on here, and it's also one of the most lighthearted. As has happened several times before, this song is in direct conversation with its predecessor. You need to keep going somehow, even if you're only walking to the end. Very Samuel Beckett-core, now that I think about it.

11. I Don't Know How To Love Him, Jesus Christ Superstar

We understand each other. You understand why I have done this. I picked the movie version because I like the orchestration better. I have no other notes.

12. Come to My Garden/Lift Me Up, The Secret Garden

This is the most distant parallel line in this whole playlist, but this one is in conversation with The I Love You Song. Reconciliation with an absent parent, with the wounds of the child. They are calling you on. Make peace with yourself. We are almost there.

13. Love To Me, The Light in the Piazza

Please excuse Matthew Morrison's bad Italian accent. I love this song so much. There's a note in Sondheim's collected lyrics about simplicity, and I think this song embodies it. This song is so much about seeing someone for who they are, and it shows in the lyrics, in the lack of both musical ornamentation and complex text, even in the delivery. If I may have one more direct parallel, this song is speaking to 'more than god loves them.'

14. Finale: Make Our Garden Grow, Candide

Let me preface this by saying that this is not a fix-it ending. James does not live at this time. With that being said, I picked this one for two reasons. One, the resonance sonically and lyrically with the previous two songs, and two, the theme of letting go of ambition/expectation/demand. The acceptance of imperfection. The resolution into the simplicity of the body/existence/the reality of one materiality and mortality. There is no Eden to return to. We have only each other. JFJ has the only peaceful death we see onscreen, and for me, this song resonates with that. The release on that last note. 10/10 thank you Mr. Bernstein. That is all there is no more, thank you for coming to my ted talk. Goodnight <3

[jazzandother-blog]

GENE KRUPA

(English / Español)

Gene Krupa (January 15, 1909 - October 16, 1973) was a famed and influential American jazz musician and big band drummer, known and recognised for his energetic and brilliant playing style. His parents were Polish immigrants to the USA and he was born in Chicago, Illinois. He began his professional career in the mid-1920s with bands in Wisconsin. He emerged on the Chicago music scene in 1927, when he was selected by the MCA to become a member of the orchestra of Thelma Terry and Her Playboys, then the most notable American jazz band led by a woman.

Krupa made his first recording in 1927, with a band led by banjo player Eddie Condon. Krupa also appeared on six records by Thelma Terry's band in 1928. In 1929 he moved to New York City and worked with the Red Nichols band. In 1934 he joined Benny Goodman's band, where his unique drumming made him a national celebrity.

In 1938, after a public falling out with Goodman at the Earl Theater in Philadelphia, he left Goodman to launch his own band, with which he scored several big hits alongside singer Anita O'Day and trumpeter Roy Eldridge. Krupa made a memorable cameo appearance in the 1941 film Ball of Fire, in which he and his band played different versions of the hit song Drum Boogie.

In 1943, Krupa was arrested for possession of cannabis and briefly imprisoned.

Krupa retired musically in the late 1960s, although he played occasionally in public until his death from leukemia in Yonkers, New York. He was buried in Holy Cross Cemetery in Calumet City, Illinois. He became the face of Slingerland Drums, which later launched a "Radio King" series in Krupa's honour.

Krupa is considered by many to be the most influential drummer of the 20th century, especially for the development of the drum instrument itself. His main influence began in 1935 in the company of Benny Goodman, where he excelled as a true star, but above all for his use of the bass drum pedal. This particular method of playing was published in 1938 and became a standard text for the study of the instrument.

*****

Gene Krupa (15 de enero, 1909 – 16 de octubre, 1973) fue un afamado e influyente músico estadounidense de jazz y un gran baterista de big band, conocido y reconocido por su energético y brillante estilo de tocar. Sus padres eran polacos emigrantes en USA y el nació en Chicago, Illinois. Comenzó su carrera profesional a mediados de la decada de los años 1920s con bandas en Wisconsin. Emergió en la escena musical de Chicago en 1927, cuando fue seleccionado por la MCA para convertirse en miembro de la orquesta de Thelma Terry y Sus Playboys, entonces la más notable banda americana de jazz liderada por una mujer.

Krupa hizo su primera grabación en 1927, con una banda liderada por el banjista Eddie Condon. Krupa también aparece en seis discos de la banda de Thelma Terry en 1928. En 1929 se mudó a New York City y trabajó con la banda de Red Nichols. En 1934 se unió a la banda de Benny Goodman, donde su particular forma de tocar la batería le convirtió en una celebridad nacional.

En 1938, tras una pelea pública con Goodman en el Earl Theater en Filadelfia, dejó a Goodman para lanzar su propia banda, con la que obtuvo diferentes grandes éxitos junto a la cantante Anita O'Day y el trompetista Roy Eldridge. Krupa hizo un memorable cameo apareciendo en la película de 1941 Ball of Fire (Bola de Fuego), donde él y su banda tocaban distintas versiones del éxito musical Drum Boogie.

En 1943, Krupa era arrestado por posesión de cannabis siendo brevemente encarcelado.

Krupa se retiró musicalmente a finales de los años 1960s, aunque tocaba ocasionalmente en público hasta su muerte por leucemia en Yonkers, New York. Fue enterrado en el Holy Cross Cemetery en Calumet City, Illinois. Se convirtió en imagen de las baterías Slingerland, fábrica que posteriormente lanzaría una serie "Radio King" en honor a Krupa.

Muchos consideran a Krupa como el más influyente baterista del siglo 20, especialmente por el desarrollo del propio instrumento de la batería. Su principal influencia comenzó en 1935 en compañía de Benny Goodman, donde sobresalió como una auténtica estrella, pero sobre todo por su uso del pedal del bajo de la batería. Este particular método de tocar se publicó en 1938 y se convirtió en un texto estándar para el estudio del instrumento.

fuente: last.fm