#i couldn't help but add the quote

[limefrogg]

"I will follow you, even when I've lost all my senses"

Hatchet, Gary Paulsen // A Beginning, The Dear Hunter // The Orange, Wendy Cope // The Long Walk, Stephen King // At The End Of The Earth, The Dear Hunter

[churipu]

hii hope you’re doing good and taking care of yourself!! Can u do jjk men headcannons when their s/o is finds a bug and is telling them to kill it (can u also add nanami)

JJK MEN KILLING BUGS FOR THEIR PARTNER

featuring. nanami kento, gojo satoru, sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. cursing, bugs ew.

note. hii anonnn, as a person who despises bugs a lot. yes. this request is just *chefs kiss*, and i'm doing absolutely amazing bby, hbuuu?? i hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting mwah mwah <;33

AND U GUYS WE REACHED 800+ FOLLOWERS??? i really don't know what to say, thank you so much <33 this means a lot to me, and i feel so loved i'm gonna cry. i love u all

NANAMI KENTO. your knight in shining armor. the moment you called out for him in a voice lacing with worry, he just knows what was up — you'd be fifteen minutes in your shower, and nanami is in the living room watching the television until you call out to him. voice loud, mixing in with the vivid sounds of water pouring.

"ken!"

he jolts up in surprise and walked towards the bathroom door, raising his hand to knock on the door a couple times, "are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

"come in, please," your voice was meek, and he could hear the shower turn off.

the male slowly opens the door, and he could feel the steam from your shower caressing his face lightly. you were there, still inside the shower with a nervous smile and a towel wrapping around you, "bug. kill. please?" was all you said.

"where is it, baby?"

you pointed at the sink, and there it was — the sacred and vile being, just sitting there beside the sink. though, it was so little nanami almost laugh, but seeing his partner being terrified; he was not going to make fun of them, he finds it adorable actually. and glad that the first thing you decided to do was call him for help.

nanami didn't even use a tissue, no hitting, no slapping, no squishing; he just grabs the bug in his grasp and tells you to have a nice shower and left.

your knight in shining armor.

GOJO SATORU. little bastard would definitely be all bark and no bite, he's all about that "oh, it's just a bug, baby. it's not like it's going to kill you" or "come on, baby, what's a bug going to do?"

until it flies. and he uses you as a shield.

"y/n kill that disgusting thing! holy fuck, i'm going to die." he cowered behind you, pointing at a little bug just resting on top of the kitchen counter — you rolled your eyes at him, not even having the energy to be as scared as him anymore.

"oh, it's just a bug, satoru. it's not like it's going to kill you," you mimicked his words sarcastically, and the male glares at you, wrapping his arms around you.

"it flies," he mumbled lowly, "bugs that can fly are disgusting. and don't quote my words on me, it hurts my pride," he kisses your shoulder, almost pouting.

"rock, paper, scissors? loser kills it," you asked him, raising your balled up fist with a smirk on your face.

he sighs, "bring it on, loser."

gojo lost. it took him half an hour and half a can of bug spray along with a mask to protect his handsome face from a possible bug attack, a pan lid to use as a shield, and a sandal (for protection) to get rid of the said bug.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ignores you at first because you couldn't actually be serious? a human scared of a bug? just the mere thought of it makes him break out into laughter.

until he actually realizes it was that serious.

"brat, are you really not going to come out because there's a bug on the door?" he asks out in annoyance, standing in front of the door where you were on the other side of the open door, nodding with a lop-sided grin.

"come on, ryo. i hate bugs, 've always told you that," you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"it's a bug. it won't do anything," sukuna mutters out.

"bug bites kill more people than shark attacks every year," you informed him, drumming your foot as your anxious eyes looked over to the bug as it moves slowly all over the surface of the door, "ryo, please. just squish it."

"why don't you squish it?"

"because i'm scared."

"well, ha ha. i'm scared too," he tells you with a proud smirk, crossing his arms. he finds joy in seeing you like this, really — he finds it laugh worthy, sukuna could do this all day.

"huh. the king of curses having a fear of bugs? how cute." you muttered out.

alright, that took him by surprise. the male stomps over to the door and got rid of the said bug almost immediately, "'m not scared, i was just kidding."

"i know, i said that so you could kill the bug for me," you walked out of the door, brushing past him with a big smile.

sukuna 00

y/n 01

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[capseycartwright]

just kiss me slowly

tommy does this thing, when he kisses buck. to quote myself, i underestimated your rizz, tommy kinard. the two finger chin pull has been playing on my mind since the episode aired, and this pointless bit of fluff was born. buck and tommy are running circles in my head.

ao3 link

Tommy does this thing, when he kisses Buck. Buck has kissed Tommy enough times in the past couple of weeks to know its a thing, and not just a fluke. He hasn't kissed Tommy enough that he's lost count (27 kisses - he's been counting because it still doesn't feel real, and every time he can add another kiss to the growing list of moments he lets himself linger in as he lies in bed at night, or sits in traffic on the way to work, is another reminder that this is real: that Tommy is real) but he's beginning to learn more about the way Tommy kisses, has begun to map the surface of Tommy's lips with his tongue.

He knows its a thing, is the point.

The first time Tommy had kissed him, he'd tugged Buck closer, two fingers pulling on Buck's chin as he'd pressed that chaste first kiss to Buck's lips. Buck had assumed that had been a heat of the moment sort of thing, Tommy tugging Buck closer so he could get his point across, but then it had happened again.

Tommy had come to pick Buck up, for their date. "Old fashioned," Buck had teased. Tommy had simply rolled his eyes in response, catching Buck's chin between his thumb and forefinger, pressing a brief kiss to Buck's surprised lips. "I didn't want to wait until after dinner to kiss you again," he had said, by way of explanation, and Buck had been in a haze the whole drive to the Italian place Tommy had suggested they grab dinner at. No one - no one had ever kissed him like that, pulling Buck closer with a gentle grasp, as though they didn't want to give him a chance to turn his head away.

Tommy liked to kiss Buck. Buck was learning that too. It was all so new for him, but Tommy was confident, a reassuring presence to - quite literally - lean on as he navigated his newfound bisexuality. Tommy had been thirty-one when he'd come out, he'd explained to Buck - so he understood. Understood why Buck had played their dinner off as a friendly thing, understood why Buck hadn't told Eddie yet, understood why Buck hadn't told anyone, yet, only his sister, and Hen. Understood why Buck was more at ease here, in the warmth of Tommy's apartment, than he was at a bar - for now, at least. Buck wasn't ashamed, he was just learning how to lean into this new part of himself.

Buck couldn't help but flush as he remembered the genuine look of pride on Tommy's face when he'd leaned into the other man's space that afternoon at the farmers market, listening intently as Tommy explained the benefits of using a certain kind of tomato to make pasta sauce - the way his mother had taught him to, growing up in New York. Buck had leaned against Tommy, enjoying the way colour rose in Tommy's cheeks as he'd done so.

He'd earned a reward for it too, Tommy using two gentle fingers to redirect Buck's face toward his own as they'd loaded the groceries in the trunk of Buck's jeep, pressing a brief kiss to Buck's waiting lips.

That was the thing, Tommy did - he touched Buck so gently, always redirecting Buck's mouth to exactly where he wanted it to be, and it made Buck melt right down into his sneakers. He'd - he'd just never had someone kiss him so reverently, before.

"If you think any harder, you'll give yourself a headache," Tommy murmured, glancing up from the sauce he was stirring. This version of Tommy was new to Buck - the version of Tommy in his own apartment, relaxed, shoes kicked off by the door, an unfamiliar jazz album playing over the record player in the living room - because of course Tommy had an actual fucking record player. Buck liked this version of Tommy. He was realising he liked all versions of Tommy, actually.

Buck could tell him. He could tell Tommy that the way he grabbed Buck so gently by the chin so often when he was going in for a kiss made his insides turn to goo. He could tell Tommy how good it felt to have someone want him like that, want to initiate kisses. He could tell Tommy that he had spent years of his life chasing other people's lips, desperate for the affection Tommy was already so freely offering him, a mere three and a half weeks into dating.

He could tell him all that, and Tommy probably wouldn't mind - but Buck wanted to keep the thought to himself, a little while longer. This thing with Tommy was so new, and it was good, but it still felt delicate, and Buck didn't want Tommy to stop the way he kissed Buck.

"I'm admiring you hard at work," Buck tilted his head slightly. It was still strange, to hear himself flirt so openly with another man, but he was getting used to it. He had to, really, when Tommy always responded to his flirting with a delighted grin, or laugh.

Tonight, Buck got both.

"C'mere," Tommy murmured, hand gentle on Buck's face as he caught Buck's chin between his thumb and forefinger, pressing a lingering kiss (28) and then a second (29) to Buck's mouth. "Just wait until you try the sauce. Then you're really going to want to kiss you."

As if Buck didn't spend every second of every day fantasising about kissing Tommy, like he was a horny teenage boy again. "Promises, promises."

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Make yourself useful and set the table," he pretended to order, but he wasn't moving, nose brushing against Buck's. He kissed him again (30) and then kissed the corner of Buck's mouth, right where Buck's grin was splitting his face in two, his delight so overwhelming he couldn't contain it.

Buck leaned into the embrace, cheek scruffy where he pressed it against the palm of Tommy's hand. "I'm glad we're doing this," he admitted. Kissing, dinner - dating. All of the above. Tommy could decide which one Buck had meant.

Tommy's grin was liquid fucking gold. "Me too, Evan."

[puckbunnyera]

Just Friends | Luke Hughes

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

genre: fluff

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none

notes: it's been less than 24 hours since i posted my first fic and i've already received a few asks for a part 2 so here it is. i'll link the first part here. thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read it, like it, reblog it, etc. i'm always really nervous to post my own writing so any type of interaction with it feels good to see.

also, i know the timelines of the games played in both fics don't align with the actual events in real time but we are just going to ignore that for the sake of the plot.

• ──────────────♡────────────── •

I sigh as I stand in front of my bedroom mirror, doing one last fit check before Luke arrives. I'm nervous. I come to this realization as I smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles in my shirt. Why? I couldn't tell you. It's been almost two months since the night I met Luke, and we've talked and texted almost every day since. We've even hung out multiple times since then, but I always seem to get all nervous and jittery anytime he presents the offer. My thoughts start to consume me to the point that I'm almost tempted to text him and ask for a rain check, but before I can fall too deeply into them, my attention is stolen by the two girls lying on my bed behind me.

"I still can't believe you're dating The Luke Hughes." One of my friends says causing me to turn my back towards the mirror to look at her.

"We aren't dating." I scoff. "We're-"

"Right, you're 'just friends'." My other friend interrupts, rolling her eyes and using her fingers to make air quotes as she says the words.

"We are." I shrug, moving to sit in my vanity chair so I can put on my shoes.

"You don't have to believe us if you don't want to, but he totally has the hots for you."

"It's so obvious. Any time he has the chance to get away from his job, he's calling, texting, or coming to see you. Even if it's only for a short amount of time. Those aren't typical behaviors of a guy who wants to be 'just friends'."

They continue to go on and on as if they're trying to convince a jury that they're innocent of a crime. The sound of my phone dinging from beside me on the table finally brings their rambling to an end. I pick up to find a text from Luke.

From Luke🏒: i'm here

To Luke🏒: omw

"I would love to stay and continue this conversation," I smile sarcastically as I stand up, "But my friend is waiting for me downstairs." I make sure to add extra emphasis on the word friend.

They both giggle and bid their goodbyes as I walk out of the room. When I make it downstairs to the lobby of my apartment building, Luke, in all of his handsome glory, is waiting patiently by the door.

"Ready to go?" He questions once I'm standing in front of him. I nod in confirmation and he opens the door for us, placing a gentle hand on my back to lead me out.

"What's the plan for today?" I ask once we're settled into the car.

"I need to drop off a couple of things at the dry cleaners since my brother forgot to do it," He gestures to the items in his backseat. "But then I figured we could go to dinner, catch a movie, and then maybe grab some dessert before I take you home."

"Sounds good!" I reply with a smile, with which he returns one of his own before putting the car in drive and pulling away from my apartment building.

Things are going well today. Really well. We're having fun and Luke is being as sweet as always. However, that's the only problem. Despite the stance I took in the argument with my friends, I can't help but let their words get to me. The whole evening, I've been reading too deeply into every little thing he does. Every door he holds open for me, every chair he pulls out for me, every accidental brush of our hands when we walk side-by-side. I'm trying not to let it show, but when Luke's voice rattles my thoughts and pulls me back down to Earth, I know I'm failing.

"Are you okay?" He asks as we sit in the car, waiting for the red light to turn green. "You've been pretty quiet today."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely confused because I hadn't noticed that change in my behavior. When he responds with a solemn nod, guilt rises in my chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was. It has nothing to do with you." Yet it has everything to do with him.

"Did something happen?" He pushes further.

"No, just have a lot on my mind with work and all, but I'm okay. Promise." I give him a soft smile in hopes that it will give him enough reassurance to drop the conversation. Thankfully he does, but the look in his eyes shows clearly that he doesn't believe me. "So my friends were telling me that you have a home game coming up in a couple of days against your oldest brother's team. Are you excited?" I change the subject quickly.

"Yeah," He nods, a smile gracing his features. "My parents are gonna be in town to watch us face off against each other. All three Hughes brothers on the same ice. I'm hoping it will be as exciting as everyone and the media are making it seem." He chuckles. "I'm also just really excited to see Quinn. We haven't gotten to see each other much since I moved out to Jersey and the season started. I think it'll be nice to have us all back together again, even if it's just for a couple of days."

"I bet it will be."

"I'm glad you brought this up because I've been meaning to ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Would you maybe want to come to the game?"

"Do you want me to come?" I'm praying the hopeful look in my eyes isn't obvious.

"Yeah," He nods. "I really do."

"Then I'll be there." I assure him. "The girls were talking about purchasing tickets anyways, so I'll tell them to make it three tickets instead of just the two."

"Don't worry about it. I got it covered."

"Luke, you don't have to do that." I shake my head, readying myself to argue.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to." The look he gives me makes me forget any rebuttal I had previously prepared. "Plus, I already got the tickets and the seating arrangements set up."

"And you just knew I was gonna say yes?" I reply, crossing my arms.

"No, but I was hoping you would."

"I guess some dreams really do come true." I joke.

"I guess so."

We continue to talk and joke around for the remainder of the drive. It goes by a little too quickly though, because before I know it, he's putting the car in park in front of my building. Being the gentleman that he is, he walks me all the way up to my apartment door. It's not until I have unlocked and opened the door that he finally says goodnight, placing a soft peck on my cheek before walking away. Once he has disappeared into the elevator and I'm sure he's gone, I close and lock the door.

As I'm getting ready for bed, I become aware of the slight ache in my cheeks from smiling so much. As soon as my head hits my pillow, the realization dawns on me. I am in love with Luke Hughes.

• ───────────────────────────── •

I'm still in shock at the fact that he really went all out with the tickets. My friends seem to be as well considering that they still haven't managed to pick their jaws up off the floor yet. Never in my life would I have ever expected to be seated in one of the arena's luxury suites. I feel a little bad the more I dwell on it. There are more deserving fans that could be sitting here, yet some girl who knew nothing about the sport two months ago had them handed to her at no cost.

"Hi, you must be Y/N." An unfamiliar woman's voice pulls me from my pity-party.

"Oh, hi." I greet her as I turn in her direction.

"I'm Luke's mom, Ellen." She smiles and pulls me into a quick but gentle embrace. "And this is my husband, Jim." She gestures to the man beside her.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He offers a hand for me to shake.

"You as well." I accept it before introducing them to my two friends, who are not-so-discreetly eavesdropping on the conversation.

We all find a seat and fall into casual conversation. Just getting to know each other and talking about this, that, and the other. Once the teams begin to make their way onto the ice, our attentions shift away from each other and onto the players.

Having admitted to my lack of knowledge of the sport before the game started, Jim and Ellen kindly explained the game to me so I would know what is going on. By the end of the first period, I'm clued in enough that I don't need it anymore and eventually, I become just as immersed in the game as the rest of them are.

It's in the second period that Luke scores a goal and we all stand up, cheering loudly with the crowd. The excitement is so high that I don't even shy away when Ellen happily pulls me into a tight hug before pulling away and continuing to cheer for her youngest son. Third period seems to go by in a flash and then the game is ending with a 6-5 win for the Devils, both Jack and Luke having contributed to the score with goals of their own.

Once the final buzzer goes off, my friends bid their farewells before heading out to go home. However, I hang back with Ellen and Jim upon the request of Luke. I follow the two down from the suite until we make it to where the locker rooms are located, waiting in the hall for the three brothers to emerge. We stand around conversing for about ten or so minutes before the men finally make their appearances.

They all embrace and greet each other as I stand back and watch with a smile. They really are a beautiful family. Once they all break away, Luke turns his attention towards me. He steps forward and reaches for me, pulling me into his arms.

"Congratulations." I speak softly as I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, his wrapped around my waist.

"Thank you." I can hear the smile in his voice.

Time escapes me as I stand in his arms. I'm not even sure how long we've been holding onto each other. It's his brother's voice that finally has us separating.

"You must be the infamous Y/N." Quinn steps up, a smug grin on his face. "I've heard so much about you."

"I've heard a lot about you as well," I respond politely, despite the blush I'm sure I'm sporting due to his teasing tone. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" Ellen asks from where she stands, now next to Quinn.

"Oh, um," I look to Luke for an answer. He nods, a pleading look in his eyes. "Yes, I would love to." I finally reply.

With that being said, we all begin to exit the arena and head to the parking lot. We're almost to the vehicles when Luke gently grabs my hand and pulls me to a stop. Once his family is out of earshot, he begins to speak.

"This might seem random and sudden, but I've been thinking about it for a while." He starts, looking away nervously and lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "And feel free to say no because I don't want you to feel like you have to say yes just because I'm asking. Or if you feel like you need time to think it over, feel free to take all of the time you need. Actually, maybe I-"

"Luke," I say his name softly, placing my hands on his reddening cheeks and forcing his gaze back to mine. His rambling comes to a halt. "Breathe."

"Sorry." He inhales deeply before releasing his breath. "I was wondering, would you be my girlfriend?"

It's my turn to take a deep breath. Out of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting this. I take a moment to gather my thoughts as a smile begins to pull at my lips.

"I would love to." I nod, my smile growing larger resulting in his own.

"Well," He takes a step closer to me. "Since you're my girlfriend now, does that mean I can kiss you?" His question flusters me but I try hard not to show it.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

"Really fucking badly."

"Then kiss me, Luke."

And so he does. His lips crash into mine in a soft but passionate kiss. As if he has waited a lifetime to do it. It's gentle yet desperate. As we finally part, he pecks my lips a few more times before pulling away completely. He opens his mouth to say something but is stopped by Jack shouting from where his family is waiting by the cars, surely having seen the whole display.

"If you two lovebirds are done sucking faces in the middle of the parking lot, I would like to leave now. I'm fucking starving." He teases.

We both turn our gazes in time to see Quinn smack the middle brother in the back of the head and both parents shaking their heads at their son's antics. Luke chuckles at the scene as he intertwines his hand with mine and begins to walk to the car. My heart flutters as I finally admit the obvious to myself. Maybe we weren't ever just friends. I mentally roll my eyes as I climb into the back seat, already picturing the two squealing girls in my head and the endless amounts of I told you so's that I'm sure to hear when I fill them in. However, when Luke slides into the car next to me and interlocks our hands once again, I can't bring myself to care. I think I like this little life.

[skxllz]

Hi! IDK IF YOUR TAKING REQUESTS BUT IM GONNA SEND ONE ANYWAY AND YOU DONT HAVE TO DO IT IF YOU ARENT TAKING REQUESTS

Can you do Lucifer, Alastor and whoever else you wanna add with a reader who just swallows/eats anything/weird things?

A piece of tissue? Sure! Plastic? Yippee! A pebble? Why not! Keys? Yummy! A rubber duck? Quack quack! A piece of Alastors cane? Don’t kill me!!

I'm not currently taking requests but I'll do this for you hon <3 I apologize if it doesn't live up to your expectations!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 & 𝐯𝐨𝐱 𝐟𝐭...

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

🐤 - 𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛

➳ when you two first started dating - scratch that, first started talking, he picked up on the fact that you had random quirks. bored? you'd make random noises. sometimes, you'd lay on the floor just to lay there. for no reason, you'd hang upside down on the couches in the foyer. —he once questioned you and you said, I quote, “ I want to feel the blood rush to my head, it's fun. ”— to say the least, you puzzled him, but he brushed it off because who wasn't an oddball in hell?

➳ now, when you actually started dating and you got more comfortable is when he noticed some of his rubber ducks missing - and not just the ducks, but rather some of the things he used on them as well. glue, for example.

➳ “ hey, um, sweetie? ” he approached you one day, quite confused from where his things were suddenly disappearing to. you hummed in reply, looking up from your phone. lucifer blinked at you slowly, trying to come up with a way to word his sentence without seeming like he was accusing you of anything. “ have you seen my glue? the kind I use for- ” — “ no. ” you had answered too quickly for his liking.

➳ as the days carried on, more of his shit would vanish. it got to the point where it'd frustrate him. it wasn't until one day, where his latest creation knocked off of his desk and rolled under it, did he find one of the ducks he had been looking for. except... it had a bite mark taken out of it...

➳ lucifer was dubbed shocked. his eyes widened, lips pulled down in a duck-lipped press. what in the seven rings of hell? he's never seen anything like this, and he doesn't own a hell hound, so who-

➳ and then his mind drifted to you.

➳ he recalled your weird behaviour; the way you were sweating nervously and avoiding eye contact. he should've known you had something to do with it.

➳ but to eat his rubber ducks? he's going to have a serious talk with you about your diet.

+++

📻 - 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛

➳ this radio demon didn't really show interest in you at first. you seemed innocent - too innocent, but still innocent, and that just didn't catch his attention in the slightest. if anything, you seemed bothersome.

➳ I'd like to think he first took interest in you when vaggie found a corner of the end of her spear broken off. no one dared touched it before, and you were new to the hotel - it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. but I guess, in a sense, no one else suspected you since you never bothered anything else.

➳ one night, when almost everyone was asleep, you snuck off to the kitchen to find something to eat. you were starving since you hadn't had dinner and couldn't really bother to just fall asleep on an empty stomach. a certain radio demon had followed you, startling you out of your wits as you turned around only to spot him there. “ funny to see you awake, dear! ”

➳ you explained to him, nervously, that you couldn't sleep. he hummed, pretending to show he was listening, before skipping right to the point of why exactly he was there. “ I couldn't help but realize that, earlier today when our dearest vaggie was rather upset, you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the sofa. in fact, you seemed almost... ” he paused, pretending to ponder, his smile widening. “ guilty. care to explain the reasoning for that, hm? ”

➳ at that point, you were avoiding eye contact. hands twined behind your back, thumbs twiddling out of anxiousness, you searched for an excuse through your jumbled brain, attempting to think of absolutely anything just to slip away from alastor. but knowing him, he'd probably see right through the charade - he's been around way longer than you, and is a mastermind at getting into people's heads. no doubt he'd figure out you fibbed. — “ I just felt guilty that I couldn't help at all. vaggie is a close friend, I hate to see her upset. ”

➳ instead of buying the lie, like you had predicted, the bob-wearing demon leaned down and gave you a close-lipped grin; half lidded eyes flashing dangerously beneath the light that gleamed from atop the stove. “ or is it because, perhaps, you had something to do with it? ”

➳ that's when you blurted out. “ I ate it. ” and, much too afraid to gouge alastor's reaction, you turned and took off running out of the kitchen.

➳ if you would've stayed, however, you would've seen the way alastor's eyes momentarily widened. he was.. shocked, to say the least. he didn't think he had heard you right at first, but he knew for certain his ears didn't deceive him.

➳ with his narrowed eyes now staring after your figure, he straightened his posture, folding his hands behind his back and humming to himself. “ interesting creature, they are... ”

➳ you have now caught his attention. expect more interactions with the infamous deer!

+++

📺 - 𝚟𝚘𝚡

➳ picture this; you're one of velvette's models. you're dating vox, her business partner. they're both aware of how weird you can be, and yet, they both seem to favorite you - hell, even val (but let's face it, he just wants you for your body, which isn't going to happen).

➳ you're in the middle of getting your hair prepped and straightened when you had the sudden urge to just chew. it always came on randomly, but most of the time when you were bored. sitting in a chair, with sprits blasting into your face and hair utensils tugging in your hair, and hell forbid you weren't allowed to move- it was not exactly fun. so you started to eye the new collection of makeup sponges that were just set upon your personal vanity.

➳ they looked squishy, flimsy, chewable... oh so tempting. so while rachelle, your hairstylist, was busy talking her head off, too busy to notice you stretching your arm forward, you snatched one up.

➳ velvette came strutting down the midst of the aisle with a firm hand on her hip and a ripple in the center of her brow, shouting at many of the other stylists on what to do, what not to do - what looked better on her models, what looked cheap. she could not afford to have her best women looking as if they escaped the hands of a hellhound, it just wouldn't do. but that's when she turned, pointing a demanding finger at rachelle to amp up the heat on your straightener because the ends of your hair were curling up. that's also when she noticed you not only chewing on the newly bought sponge, but eating it.

➳ “ oh for fuck sake! ” the dark-skinned demon spewed, catching your attention and making you freeze. velvette reached an arm forward, only to wrap her digits around what was left of the sponge and rip it from your grasp. your chair turned on cue, showing you sheepishly smiling at the fuming female. “ I told you not to stuff your damn mouth full of random shit! especially my new makeup equipment — ” she turned away, stomping her healed foot to the ground. “ fuck! ”

➳ it wasn't long before vox had arrived before the demoness due to her calling him and shouting profanities over the phone. you were left to sit in the chair, huffing nonsense under your breath, while rachelle finished with your hair in silence.

➳ when the overlord made his presence known, rachelle excused herself — and thankfully she had finished your hair. “ y/n, dear.. ” vox smoothly spoke, for once not sounding like an overly cocky twat. it's usually only in the presence of others, but given that not many people were around, he dialed a softer tone with you.

➳ “ I didn't do anything, ” you rolled your eyes, looking away with a puffed out frown. yes, you were spoiled, but who wouldn't be, dating the owner and inventor of voxtech?

➳ vox sharply looked down at you, eyeing you with a sense of irritance —for angering velvette— but fondness —because you're his—. “ don't be like that. how many times have we talked about eating random things, hm? ”

➳ “ ... about- fifty nine? I lost count. ”

➳ “ around there. ” the tv demon moved, placing his hands on the back of the swivel chair you sat upon, while now holding eye contact with you through the mirror to your vanity. “ and what have we talked about, sweetheart? ”

➳ you were silent at first. staring him down, eyes hooded and ghosted over with annoyance. it was irritating how he was speaking to you like a child. “ well? ” vox impatiently, patiently, questioned; his claws dragging along the back of the chair, only to glide over your nape. closing your eyes out of bliss from the movement, you sighed. “ don't eat random things because they're bad for me... ”

➳ “ exactly. ” vox mischievously smiled down to you, squeezing the back of your neck gently. “ now, don't you think you owe velvette an apology? ”

➳ as you nod your head, vox releases his grip on you, letting your hair fall back down against your skin. “ good. come now, we have to get that out of the way; I have things to discuss with you. ”

➳ your discussion ended pretty well :).

[wineauntie]

I DON’T KNOW WHY I AM, THE WAY I AM — the hughes brothers x hughes!sister reader

summary: when things go south, hughes!sister reader finds herself needing her older brothers more than ever.

PART ONE HERE

note: I didn’t expect part one to get so much love and support but I’m so grateful for it, thank you and enjoy part two <33

warnings: fem reader, reader is the youngest, use of Y/N, reader has a mild panic attack and it’s alluded that she has anxiety. Reader puts everyone else before herself. Reader also has self deprecating thoughts and blames herself for a lot things.

word count: 2.1k

"The fine line between roaring with laughter and crying because it's a disaster is a very, very fine line."

You couldn't quite recall where you'd read the quote, nor could you place who had once said it...but perhaps it could offer an explanation as to why you were simultaneously hysterically laughing as horrid sobs wracked through your body.

This whole situation was comical!

Hilarious, in fact.

You'd ruined a perfectly good dinner and everyone's good mood all for the sake of, what? A pity party for your own inner envy? A chance to berate your family? Remembering your outburst as it replayed through your head made your stomach churn and pull in all sorts of directions, forcing you to choke on another sob as you curled yourself up tighter into a ball on the wooden floor beside your bed.

It had been five minutes since you'd fled the scene of your crime and you'd barely been able to keep your emotions at bay until you'd finally shut your bedroom door tightly.

You'd already caused enough issues tonight, best not to add to the problem as your emotions peaked.

You hadn't meant to ruin everything, it had just all built up and now?... now it felt even worse than before. All the emotions you'd been repressing all summer seemed to spill out so easily once the rage had broken through the gates to allow a clear passage for everything else to filter out.

You hadn't been able to register the heartbroken faces of your brothers and parents in the heat of the moment but as their faces flashed before you now, that's all you could see. Your mom and dad had looked devastated and Quinn and Jack looked so concerned and you'd...you'd just ignored it!

And Luke, oh, his face when you'd snapped sent you into another fit of broken laughter as you cried. He hadn't meant to cause you to burst, he'd just been the unlucky one to speak at the wrong time. All he'd tried to do was help you, and you'd practically shoved it right back at him.

His crestfallen face haunted you.

A knock broke through the room and before you could call out, your bedroom door slowly crept open. Your hands quickly brushed away your tears, trying to hide your upset as a pair of footsteps slipped into your room and shut the door behind them. You felt them lower themself to the ground to sit by your side, their hand on your arm.

Quinn let out a little sigh as he let you try to cover your red-tinged eyes from him.

"Hey," He began, his head tilting towards you. His greeting was met with ashamed silence, as you struggled to keep more tears from bucketing down your face.

"Look, no one's mad at you," he started cautiously, his eyes flitting carefully around your face. His words were exactly what you needed to hear even if you didn't want to absorb them. Your tears which had been successfully stopped we're now threatening to spill over onto the cushioning of your cheeks as he pulled you into his side, your head burying itself in his shoulder.

"I don't know how to fix this, Q..." you stammered, your words broken up with staggered breaths. "I was so horrible and—"

"Stop," Quinn cut you off, "you weren't horrible or wrong to say what you did. You have to stop beating yourself up about it."

"But I usually know how to fix everything!" You sniffled through your rambling. "But I can't figure out how to fix myself or fix this big mess. No matter what you say, Quinn, I was awful and Mom and Dad tried to just help and I was a brat to them-"

Your words ended with more cascading tear drops as Quinn gently ran a hand up and down your arm trying to soothe your breathing which was beginning to get more rapid by the second, despite your eldest brother's reassuring words.

"Y/N, listen to me, you're going to work yourself up," Quinn stated as calmly as possible, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. This wasn't the first time he'd helped you through a situation like this, he'd helped you countless times and he would do it countless more if he had to. "You need to slow down and breathe...come on, in and out,"

You nodded quickly as you tried to quash the rising swell of panic whilst you focused on your breathing.

The familiar sensation of a panic attack was slowly fading as your brother continued to coach you to breathe. You'd had these 'moments', as you called them, every once and a while, when everything got too much, and too hard in too little time. The world would cave in, your elbows pressed against an invisible, airless box as you fought to break free. In this box everything swirled in a tornado of alarm; every thought, every whim, every word a flurry of fear designed to target your very being.

You took a sudden and deep breath in, your eyes swimming with tears as you attempted to steady your breathing as much as possible.

"Atta girl," Quinn briefly smiled as his grip on you loosened. He glanced towards the door before concentrating on you once more. You squeezed your eyes shut and leaned into him as the remainder of your panic began to ebb away.

After a few moments of silence and steady breathing, Quinn began to speak again.

"We should've noticed how miserable you've been, hell, I mean I noticed this summer but I just thought...no. There's no excuses." He stopped himself as he trailed off.

"I'm sorry," You sniffed, "I didn't mean to cause a scene, I just...I'm so tired, Q, I'm so tired."

"You always bundle everything up inside when you don't have to," Quinn hummed as his hand brushed over your head, sending a wave of comfort through you.

"You should've just told us,"

Both, you and Quinn's heads snapped towards the door where Luke and Jack stood quietly. Jack, who'd spoken, stepped forward and took the space on your other side, his legs stretched out ahead of him as he fixed the hat on his head.

"We could've, uh, stopped, y'know?" He continued, clearing his throat as he looked at you. "Didn't mean to make you feel left out and we should've gone to more of your events."

"That was selfish of us," Quinn added, looking between Jack and Luke, who both nodded in agreement.

"You're not selfish," you mumbled, looking down at your hands which were fidgeting on your lap. "You're just busy. You all have your own lives, I can't expect you guys to be at everything, I'm sorry I threw it in your face."

"Stop saying sorry," Luke scoffed, his eyebrows furrowed as he moved around the room. You bit your trembling lip as you watched him pick up a few trinkets lying on your dresser.

"I..." you looked at Quinn and Jack in slight bewilderment, before focusing on Luke again. He moved closer towards the three of you before crouching down in front of you, his eyes locked on yours. "But I am sorry...to you especially, I blew up on you– all of you actually, and you guys were only trying to help me."

"Stop," Luke repeated himself, "Listen, look, we fucked up here. Stop feeling sorry." He didn't bother to look at Quinn and Jack, his eyes solely on you. Luke's sincerity caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but stare into his eyes, searching for any signs of resentment. Instead, you found a mix of concern and understanding. It was as if he wanted to convey that your feelings were valid, even if your actions were flawed.

You and Luke had always been close. You were the closest in age and it came as no surprise that you two were always thick as thieves in your childhood and yet you'd never seen him be quite as careful as he was right now.

"We all have our moments," Luke continued, his voice softening. "But now that you've let it out, let us help." You gulped and nodded half-heartedly, dropping your head to your chest.

"I don't know why I'm like this," you slowly confessed with a croaky voice whilst a shaky hand ran through your hair. "It's all so..." You paused and waved your hands around before they fell back to your lap. "...and I just feel so stupid."

"I always thought you were part robot, honestly" Jack chuckled, earning hums of agreement from your other brothers and causing you to let a small smile cross your features. "You're human, Y/N, congratulations, we all have our breaking points, and it's alright to reach them sometimes," his eyes widened before he rushed back into the conversation. "–as long as you let us help, of course."

"Look, we're here and we'll figure it out." Quinn supplied as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, while Jack offered a genuine smile. "We don't want to make you feel as you have ever again."

As you absorbed their words, a gentle wave of gratitude and relief washed over you. It wasn't fixing everything immediately, but the reassurance that you didn't have to carry the weight alone anymore made a world of difference. You let out a shaky breath, feeling a sudden shyness creep over you.

"I appreciate you guys being here...saying all this," you admitted, your voice steadier. "I let things just build, and I convince myself that I can handle it all on my own, but I don’t think it worked for me this time."

"Stubbornness runs in the family, doesn't it?" Quinn chuckled softly, "But around here we share the load."

"Ew," Luke recoiled with a look of disgust, earning a brief melodious laugh from you.

"Not like that, idiot," Quinn scoffed and reached forward to whack Luke over the head.

"Strange that your mind went there, Lukey boy," Jack joined in on the teasing, nudging the boy with his foot.

"Alright, alright," Luke huffed as he rolled his eyes and settled cross-legged on the floor.

You found yourself caught in a strange mix of emotions. The laughter and tears that had been at odds earlier now seemed to blend into a bittersweet symphony. The camaraderie and support from your brothers were a soothing balm for your wounded soul. It was as if the disaster you had unleashed earlier was being slowly pieced back together, not perfectly, but with a promise of conclusion.

With a small sigh, you finally let go of the tension that had gripped your body, allowing yourself to relax into the makeshift circle of comfort your brothers had formed around you. The room felt warmer, the air lighter, and the fine line between chaos and resolution became a bit clearer.

"I needed to let it out...I needed this to happen," you admitted, a small smile playing on your lips. "I am sorry about the execution, but sometimes, it's hard for me to see beyond the mess."

"That's what we’re for, right?" Quinn reassured, exchanging glances with Jack and Luke. "To help navigate the mess."

"Yeah, like, y'know, sometimes it takes a breakdown to experience a breakthrough," Luke spoke, still seated on the floor, tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Pack it in, Einstein," Jack teased, earning a playful shove from Luke.

"Yeah, yeah," Luke grinned, his eyes flickering with a rare vulnerability. "I've been paying attention, y'know."

The room filled with a light-hearted atmosphere as your brothers continued their banter. It was a strange dichotomy—just moments ago, you were drowning in a sea of self-loathing, and now, you found solace in the warmth of your siblings' presence– a solace you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in a while.

Luke's eyes softened as he caught your wandering gaze once again, a silent understanding passing between you two. The air was completely clear between you and him. It was a relief to know that beneath the chaos of the evening, there was a foundation of unwavering support on his half which allowed for the knots in your stomach to gradually loosen.

"You're not alone in this, Y/N." Quinn leaned in, ruffling your hair affectionately. "We've got you…always."

"But I should go talk to Mom and Dad, shouldn't I?" You spoke up, looking at your brothers nervously. "I feel bad that I just left them there."

"What did we just talk about?" Luke poked your leg, "No feeling bad is allowed and I know that Mom and Dad don't want you to feel bad, they just want to see you be yourself again." You nodded and took a shallow breath in before letting it out. "Now bring it in team!'

Luke grinned as he flung himself towards you, landing on top of you, his arms outstretched to drag Quinn and Jack into the somewhat embrace, crushing you in the chaos.

"Luke—" you choked out, your eyes wide as Jack and Quinn struggled to get loose from Luke's chokehold.

"You love me, I know!"

"Yes, but please get off...I can't breathe!"

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I have a bunch of other imagines on the way ranging from more hughes!sister ones to ones based on the boys themselves 🫣

[neighborlystudios]

💜:Hey(I'm new in your blog)

I have a little request about Jax x Reader: What if Reader ignored Jax causing him to get kind of angry about it and Jax goes into Reader's room and finds Reader diary (Reader not being in the room).

(Do it if you want)(^w^).

・﹒・ jealousy, jealousy - request

Other Request by anon: **konck** **knock** **knock** Headcanon de Jax the amazing digital circus or jelouse....? Sorry i don't good with inglish :"<

Summary: You had hung out with Kinger quote often, he had become someone who you felt bad for and wanted to make sure he never felt alone. You wound up genuinely enjoying his company and had become good friends with. However- Jax didn't like that. He had found and taken your diary and had read from it just to show how much he wanted your attention.

Warnings: None

Pairing: Jax x GN!reader

Notes: Hello! I got 2 separate requests and combined them into one since it seemed fitting!

The Digital Circus had very few members, yet you always found someone to interact with here, whether it was Gangle or Kinger, but you never felt too lonely. However, you did keep a small diary to keep yourself sane, writing down thoughts and what happened during the "day" helped to keep you grounded here and from truly going insane. But it was private of course, you wanted absolutely nobody to read it under any circumstances. You always kept it in a chest right in front of your bed along with a few other items that you grew close to and wanted to keep.

You especially didn't want one person to read it- Jax. He was someone who would use that shit as blackmail against you and force you to do things you definitely would not prefer to do. Mainly considering you jotted down the possibility of forming a crush on him, it wasn't a sure thing, just a "maybe" thing. He often antagonized everyone and was a huge asshole, but there was just something so tantalizing about him, you couldn't help but want to learn more about him and spend time with him. 

So, naturally, you ignored him, in fear of actually crushing on him and making it obvious nonetheless. Nobody could blame you as he was the most deplorable out of everyone. You ignored his taunting, his smug smiles, his pranks, you ignored it all in favor of remaining neutral to his mischievous self. Jax didn't say anything about it, but Ragatha worried that you would eventually break from letting him get to you after a while. It was quick to reassure her that that would not happen, that you were stronger than he was. 

However, you were worried when he would eventually break from your lack of reactions to his behavior. Jax was most likely angry from it, but he wasn't acting any more aggressive than how he normally was. He was probably internalizing it until he couldn't one day and you were not looking forward to that day. But that was a later problem as right now, you were helping Kinger build an awesome fort for "protection", making it big enough for the both of you. He was supposedly here the longest, so since he held on this long without being abstracted, he was losing an even bigger grip on himself in this new reality. The chess piece became a good friend to you though, even if his memory and spatial awareness was completely shot.

"Ok let me add one more block here!" You placed a big, yellow block on one side that was open, smiling at how the fort was slowly coming together. Kinger often preferred small pillow forts just for him, but you both occasionally would build larger ones to fit you both.

"Oh that looks wonderful!" He sounded happy as he clapped his not-attached hands in glee, enjoying your presence and "creative mind" as he puts it. He slid over- doesn't have any legs so he just floats- and examined your current area, humming. He then looked over to you, suddenly screaming in fear and fell down on the colorful ground. It was sad, he did this so much because he forgets who he was just talking to and who was right next to him.

"Kinger its alright its just me" You smiled softly as you extended your hand, him grabbing it and you pulling up. You never dared to get mad at him, never allowing any mistreatment of him as his mind was similar to one with Dementia. Unfortunately, the one person here that often didn't enjoy being with anyone was Jax. The amount of times you scolded him for scaring Kinger and he didn't care at all. Went in one ear, out the other as they say. 

"Sorry…what were we doing? OH right, the fort!" Chuckling, you looked at the probable old man as he struggled with simply having as normal of a time here as possible. Besides that, everything was going well as you handed him some red blocks to make a chair when the familiar sights of a tall, lanky, purple, red overall wearing rabbit came through and stared at you.

"You, with me, now" Jax spoke and he was absolutely pissed off, his usual expression of a smile was replaced with a serious one. How dare he try to order you around? Stood with your hand on your hip, you raised your eyebrow as he stood there, expecting you to just go with him.

"No" You didn't have time for his shit, you were having such a fun time being with Kinger and he was not going to ruin that for you. Scoffing, he walked closer with arms crossed and stared you down as he was taller than you was. You weren't afraid of him, there were more things to be scared of here than a simple bully that got dealt the same fate as you.

"Yes, now, I mean it" At the same time, the chess piece came back and stared at the current interaction, eyes wide. His posture became curled up as if he was trying to make himself smaller, not enjoying that Jax was in his safe space.

"Am I uh…interrupting something?" He asked nervously, glancing back and forth. You were about to say no and to tell Jax to f off when he spoke first.

"Everything is fine, Ho-ha, now leave since Mx. "I'm staying" won't" One death glare caused Kinger to rush off in fear, causing you to get so angry. Stomping up to the rabbit, you said nothing for a few seconds as you sized him up, staring at him with a scowl.

"Why are you so fricking demanding all the sudden? And stop-" 

"Calling him Ho-ha. Yeah I don't care. Stop hanging out with him anyways" The rabbit plucked the teddy bear you placed on a pillow and started to boredly play with it. Ripping it from his hands, you gently placed Mr. Cuddles back on his rightful throne and pushed  Jax around towards the exit.

"Ah, now I wouldn't do that Mx." He said, just knowing he was smirking right now.

"And why not?" You stopped right before he would have been pushed through the door when he chuckled and out of nowhere, a very familiar book appeared in his hand. Your diary! Swiping at it, he unfortunately was too tall as he held it above your head, making you jump, curse your height!

"Give it back Jax! Seriously give it back now!" Jumping didn't help at all as he turned around and stared you down, holding it up at its highest point. Growling, you grabbed his arm and pushed it down, earning a "hey!" as you managed to snatch it back from him.

"That's mine thank you very much" You huffed and flipped through the pages, making sure everything was in working order when he said something you would not expect.

""Jax is a rather…interesting fellow. He is rather charming, but also a very rude person, I do not know how to feel about him, yet I want to be close to him"" A large smirk showed on his face with a knowing look, knowing he got you right where he wanted you to be. That bastard quoted from your diary!

"Say, you seem so utterly fascinated by me, why are you hanging out with Kinger instead of me?" He asked with an inflection that was hard to get a read on at first, however, it didn't take long for you to put the pieces together. He was completely jealous. But why? This was Jax you were talking about, who knew anything about him?

"Wait…are you…jealous, Jax?" Hook, line, and sinker. Sputtering, he faltered before a face of anger took place.

"I am absolutely NOT. Don't be delusional" He scoffed, deflecting the fact that he was indeed, very jealous as he crossed his arms and leaned to one side, looking away from you.

"Oh really? Then you wouldn't mind if I brought Kinger back in then! Oh Ki-" Jax covered your mouth, a blessing for him since if you didn't have one, he wouldn't have been able to stop your yelling for the chess piece. You ripped his arm away from you and walked out of the fort, no longer seeming fun to be in anymore, maybe you can build a new one after this asshole leaves.

"Ok I AM jealous. Are you happy now?" You were now outside of the fort, Kinger nowhere to be seen. Jax stood in front of you as he rolled his eyes, not happy with admitting that he was jealous. But why was he so jealous of you just hanging out with Kinger?

"No, because you somehow broke into my room and stole and read my private information!" Huffing, you hid your journal behind your back as you stared him down. 

"Why are you so jealous, Jax?" He was the one in control, now it was time for YOU to be in control now.  You spoke confidently as you walked closer to him, getting into his personal space. 

"Because-" He matched your confidence for a few seconds before pink dusted his cheeks, he went silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say as his eyes drifted everywhere but you. His black eyes finally landed back on yours and he took a deep breath in, and then out.

‘It’s because…I like you ok! That’s…that’s the only reason!” He raised his voice but not to the point of yelling as he curled in on himself, crossing his arms and holding them tighter than usual, he was scared. Slowly walking up to him, you smiled softly as you laid your free hand on top of his.

“It’s ok Jax, I won’t tell anyone. Not unless you want everyone to know you’re a big softie?” You teased, causing the rabbit to grumble as you stood on your tip toes and kissed his cheek. He froze, not expecting it in the slightest as you pulled away. The temptation to be snarky even as a joke crossed your mind, but knew he had issues being vulnerable, so instead, you smiled as you called for Kinger to finish the fort as Jax stood there like a deer in headlights

[dumplingsfordays]

30 strales

blade x florist!gn!reader

genre - fluff

summary - after you fall down into some metal buckets in your flower shop, a certain raven-haired customer happens to be walking by and helps you clean up.

cw!: swearing, blade kinda wants to murder you but ends up changing his mind because he likes uuu <3

note - i hc that blade smells like citrus. no, you're not getting an explanation, sorry lol.

and as always, thank you for reading!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

When you got your job as a florist at Petals and Pollen, you didn't expect this many people to talk to you - you were just there to make bouquets, but most of the time when someone came up to you to ask for a recommendation or advice on what flowers to give someone, your conversations would end in 'hey, are you free this week? I know a great coffee shop that you'd like' or 'there's this cute bookstore a few blocks away, wanna go there together sometime?' or just straight-up 'do you want to go on a date?'. Of course, you weren't angry or anything, but a part of you felt annoyed. Did these people come up to you only because they thought that you look nice, or did they actually want to get a bouquet and they picked up on your personality midway?

Either way, you always declined. You weren't really interested right now, and besides, you had stuff to do. Planning dates wasn't exactly part of your job description anyway.

But one cold autumn afternoon during a thunderstorm, a rather peculiar man entered the shop - his expression wasn't one of boredom or neutrality like most other patrons, it was one of rigid, almost angry determination. He stomped up to the counter with quick steps, long navy hair flowing behind him as he stopped suddenly in front of the counter.

"How do I say 'fuck you' in flower?" he growls. "Use any flowers you need. I have the money."

You blink a couple of times in surprise at the taller man, processing his request. You knew flower language, it's just that you were wondering who it could possibly be for - a nasty coworker? A disrespectful teacher or boss?

Deciding not to dwell on it, you nod and get to arranging the bouquet. From some nearby stands, you pick out some geraniums, foxglove, meadowsweet, and orange lilies, cradling the flowers in the inside nook of your elbow. You place them in a clear glass vase and tie them together with a sunset-red silk ribbon. You feel the man's eyes linger on your fingers as they knot the ribbon in a bow, and finally, you finish the bouquet and hand it to the man.

"120 strales, please," you say, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. The man quirks an eyebrow.

"No dahlias?"

"Dahlias? Why would you need dahlias?"

"Ka- I mean, I read that they meant disappointment."

You sigh. "Well, that book must've been wrong. Dahlias are a symbol of commitment, not disappointment. I think the author must've meant to write "yellow carnations", but I don't know how you would mix it up that bad. Should I add them?"

"No, that's fine." The man slides you the payment and, grabbing the bouquet, storms out the glass door to the shop.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Fuck!" he mutters under his breath as he speedwalks angrily through the crowded streets of Xianzhou, his delicate bouquet gently cradled in his arms. What the hell was Kafka thinking? He was going to bring this to the General as quote unquote "thanks", and she tricked him? Oh, he was going to kill her when he came back.

But this florist was rather... different than others he'd been to in search of a "fuck you" bouquet. They had a special sort of air about them, an air that he couldn't quite pinpoint but knew that it was addicting. Well, maybe not addicting - he just wanted to see them again, that's all.

Wait, see them again? No, he didn't do that sort of thing, he never wanted to up and start conversation with some random stranger that he saw once while buying flowers. He didn't spontaneously show up at their doorstep and ask what their name was - he only did that to his victims, and in this case, this person wasn't a victim. He barely even knew who they were (with the exception of the obvious title of "florist".)

What if they would become his victim, then? He would have a chance to talk to them without feeling guilty of doing so, and maybe murder them at the end. That's what happens to everyone anyways, how was one less person in the world going to impact him?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next day, a few hours after opening time, you see him again. He's calmer than yesterday, opening the door to your shop with a small squeak and taking his time to look around at the flowers you have on display. He pauses next to a small tin pail of yellow pansies.

"Those are pansies," you note. He turns his head sharply to meet your gaze with those blood-red eyes and turns back to the flowers.

"They're pretty," he says under his breath, lifting one out of the pail and examining its petals. "What do they mean?"

You can't read his expression at all - it's just neutral, with a small hint of fascination that immediately vanishes when he puts it back.

"They mean 'I'm thinking of you'," you reply as you pull some leaves off the stem of a tulip and throw them into a paper bag. He blinks in response and continues examining the various flowers, finally coming over to your counter a couple minutes later.

"I'd like some daffodils, please." He slides over 230 strales.

"The largest bouquet costs 200, you can keep the extra 30."

He stares at the currency in silence as you pick out the freshest daffodils and bind them together with a pale yellow ribbon, adding some white lace frills into the midst. You hand him the bouquet and he looks up at the nametag pinned to your left.

"y/n," you say. "Nice to meet you too, um..."

"Blade."

"Blade, okay."

You give a small, awkward smile. He takes the rather large bouquet from your hands and leaves the extra 30 strales, which you grab and run after him with as he leaves the shop.

"Blade! Blade!" you yell as you run after him. "You forgot your-"

He's gone, blended in with the crowd, probably, but you daren't go look - you have a business to run, and you already see some potential customers approaching the establishment. You decide to wait for him - if he comes back tomorrow, you'll give him the strales back.

As you're making a rose bouquet for a middle-aged man in a grey suit and tie, Blade pops into your mind again. His eyes were... eerily captivating, like bloodied dark iron magnets that pulled your gaze toward him. Combined with the fact that he was hard to read, and that you've never seen him before in your life, made him the most mysterious person that you'd ever interacted with. But a part of you wanted to see him again, to talk to him, to find out who he really was and what he was doing in your shop in the first place. Guess you'd have to see tomorrow.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Tomorrow was a mess.

You estimated that about 200 customers came in, most leaving with flowers in hand, and to your disappointment, none of them were the dark-haired, red-eyed, "fuck you"-bouquet-ordering man who somehow forgot that he'd left 30 strales lying on your counter before yesterday. By the time you had shut your doors, the floor was completely littered with little pieces of leaves and small, multicolored petals. Guess you had to stay after to clean up.

You pulled out your best weapon, a wide mop, from the cleaning closet in the corner and got to work. Pulling it along the tiled floor, you decided that it was rather boring to mop in silence, and pulled out another one of your favorite items - a pair of headphones, which you promptly connected to your phone and resumed mopping, now with a spring in your step. This spring turned into occasional hopping, which then turned into full-on dancing as you got caught up in the music.

Blade was watching all this unfold outside your shop, standing in the darkness and staring dumbfoundedly through the glass window. He was planning on murdering you tonight - it was horrifying that you were dancing so carefreely, without even noticing his piercing gaze on your moving form.

Abandoning the mop, you grabbed onto a column and twirled around it several times in musical glee before tragedy struck and you fell into a shelf of those goddamn tin buckets. Luckily they didn't have flowers in them, but they still hurt like a bitch - you tried pulling yourself up, only to fall down again and wince in pain as the metal edges of the buckets dug into your skin. Your legs are probably going to be covered in bruises the next morning.

You hear the door open with its signature squeak and a sinking feeling of embarrassment flooded your system.

"Need help?" the navy-haired man standing in the doorway askes, stone-faced. He stared at your trapped form blankly as you gaped at him.

"It's nine, no- ten in the evening," you stammer out, "how are you here?"

"Passing by." He feels a strange pang of guilt when lying to you. "You didn't answer my question."

You swallow and look around helplessly before replying reluctantly. "Yes, please."

Blade walks into the shop and grabs you by your hands, hoisting you up with ease onto your legs for a second before catching you when your knees buckle almost instantaneously. He sighs, lifts you up, and carries you to the nearest chair, setting you down like a fragile vase.

Blade's touch was comforting, and he smells like citrus, which is a very unexpected scent for him to have in your opinion. You thought that he might've smelled like- wait, why were you even thinking about this? The way in which his lowkey kinda attractive strong arms carried you was completely irrelevant to the current situation - why was your brain hung up on this while the poor guy has to clean up after you?

Speaking of cleaning up, he was almost done. He was now putting the mop back in the closet, and after he shut the door, you took this moment of silence to ask a question.

"Can you carry me upstairs, please? Just to my bed."

He freezes. You desperately hope that it's not a bad thing - your legs are starting to actually hurt and you don't think that you can carry yourself up a flight of stairs.

Luckily for you, he walks over and scoops you into his arms once more, carrying you with relative ease to the wooden stairs, which creak a little under your combined weight. You loop your hands around his neck as you climb up, holding on for dear life. When he reaches the second floor you thank him quietly, and he returns the gesture with a nod, turning on the lights by raising his knee up to flick the switch. The hallway fills with a golden light, and when you point to the door to your room, he heads there.

You hope that your room doesn't seem too messy - there's plants everywhere (which probably isn't that much of a surprise given that you're a florist) and the occasional book is lying on every wide surface like your desk and the bookshelf. Blade strides over to the bed in one corner, moving a leather-bound book aside titled "A Complete Collection of Native Bee Species" when he lifts the blanket. He sets you down onto the mattress with that same gentleness and you lean into the pillow, eyes already drooping shut at its softness. You turn your back towards him, and he takes this as a signal to remove your apron, which he hangs on a nearby chair. You, in your near-sleepiness, hear him sigh as he turns off the lights and closes the door, leaving you to drift away in peace. The scent of citrus lingers in your mind.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next day, as you're setting up shop, you find a note on the counter, written in black pen and a quick hand.

Locked front + back doors. Exited through window, keep the 30 strales.

[reloha]

Jacobi and McKellen as grand marshals of New York City's 2015 pride march.

All Good Omens (show) fans will know Derek Jacobi as the Metatron. His brief role on Doctor Who is also getting a lot of mention in recent posts, but I'm not going to talk about any of that.

Like his Vicious co-star Ian McKellen, Jacobi has had a long and illustrious career in theatre, television, and film. McKellen and Jacobi met when they were at Cambridge.

I'm not a huge fan of the Daily Mail, but this article, an interview with the two actors, is quite interesting. I'll just quote this part:

Jacobi says he came out to his mother when he was at university. ‘She said, “All young men, go through this phase, don’t worry.” I remember saying, “Don’t tell Dad.”’ He doesn’t know to this day if she did. ‘I think she did, but I don’t know. But they were wonderful, my parents, not much was said but they kind of knew, they got it.’

McKellen hasn’t heard his friend talk of this before. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that,’ he says, genuinely moved. ‘I never came out to my family. Biggest regret of my life.’ It turns out he didn’t even come out to Derek at university, even though it’s always been reported that he had something of a crush on him. 

‘Yes, I did fancy Derek, but I didn’t act on it, God, no. It was illegal, remember. I do get on my high horse about it, because it was so difficult. There were no gay clubs you could go to. No gay bars, no gay newspaper, nothing. What there was was a bit sleazy, I suspect. One of the reasons I became an actor was that you could meet gay people. Even then everything was difficult. When you went to America they asked, “Are you now, or have you ever been, homosexual?” I lied on the form. It was a different world.’

I want to talk about Vicious for a bit, the ITV britcom in which Derek Jacobi and Ian McKellen play an aging gay couple, (respectively) a homemaker, Stuart Bixby, and an actor, Freddie Thornhill, for fourteen episodes.

Freddie (McKellen) tells Stuart (Jacobi) about a part he's hoping to get.

I had to add these for the Broadchurch reference.

It's a law that British actors of a certain age play this part.

I couldn't find one with Michael Sheen and the skull, but here he is in the role.

McKellen did the part again at 81 in an age-blind production.

Jacobi's big breakout was the titular role in I, Claudius on the BBC in 1976.

In the '90s, Jacobi played amateur sleuth and 12th century monk, Brother Cadfael on the ITV series.

I had watched some of Vicious before, but, spurred on by Jacobi's reappearance on Good Omens, looked for it again and watched both seasons a couple of weeks ago. Because I love a good fancast and Jacobi and Sheen (at least as Aziraphale) remind me a little of each other, I couldn't help but think that Jacobi and McKellen in their youth could have played a version of Aziraphale and Crowley. (There have been a couple of posts noting this about Jacobi, and that he might have been up for the part if it had been done soon after the book came out.)

Jacobi, left, and McKellen, right (obviously).

I also think that Tennant and Sheen could have pulled off playing Freddie and Stuart in a flashback.

An even younger version of Freddie and Stuart does appear in the series, however, played by Luke Treadaway and Samuel Barnett.

Also good casting! They do a great job playing McKellen and Jacobi playing Freddie and Stuart.

Shoutout to this post by @ember-knights, that suggested Good Omens fans should check out Vicious for a glimpse of what life in the South Downs cottage might be. And also to other posts mentioning Vicious and Good Omens in the same breath, as well as comparing Sheen and Tennant to Jacobi and McKellen (which I probably reblogged but can't find right now).

Cast of Vicious: Frances de la Tour, Iwan Rheon, Philip Voss, Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Marcia Warren (Wikipedia). (Yes, the upstairs neighbor (Rheon) does go on to play Ramsay Bolton on Game of Thrones. He's a sweetheart in this, though.)

Now, I don't think Crowley and Aziraphale are the same as Freddie and Stuart, by any means. Freddie and Stuart say quite cruel things to each other. The characters become deeper in the second season; it’s a little sweeter than the first. I enjoy the bitterness of the first season too, though. It is funny, and Good Omens fans may enjoy watching it if only to see Derek Jacobi (who plays the Metatron) in a comedy role and a role that's sympathetic, especially if they are not familiar with his large and impressive body of work.

I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley's life in the bookshop as a couple, not just a group of two, or life on the South Downs, would be exactly like this, but there are somehow some similarities that I don't even know how to begin to pinpoint or explicate.

Crowley and Aziraphale’s affection is always so palpable and that’s not always clear with Freddie and Stuart. Crowley and Aziraphale are so loving that, even when they're bickering, it's joyful, even when they're arguing, even when they're coming apart (temporarily) at the seams, their love is undeniable. I don’t even think their breakup was toxic; although they were desperate at that point and hurt each other badly, it wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes it's that way.

And, lest I'm putting you off Vicious here, the Ineffable Husbands are a high bar as love stories go, but you will get to see some love and affection between Freddie and Stuart too, and I'd really love to see these actors work together more. (I am happy with how the show ends up, by the way.)

Toodle-loo! Hope everything is tickety-boo with you.

[grimesgirll]

you couldn't help but stare when rick and daryl got dressed.

they were typically racing off somewhere early every morning or daryl was slipping out to wake up before the deer, so most mornings you woke up to an empty bed and started your routine yourself. whenever you complained about this to rick, he would just ruffle your hair and tease, "we all can't run on beauty sleep."

this morning was different though; daryl's dip in the bed and rick untucking his arm from around your waist roused you before anything else. your eyes flicker open to see daryl hauling himself to the en suite bathroom while rick walks around into your line of vision.

the sheriff is tugging his pants on, and you can’t tear your eyes away. not that you had a reason to, besides modesty. you spectate as rick adjusts himself in his pants, pulling on a belt from his top dresser drawer.

you can’t help but finding yourself licking your lips and doing a nice wide stretch. rick doesn’t notice you as you recline on your elbows to watch as he begins to button his shirt.

behind him, the toilet flushes and you see daryl through the cracked door. his jeans ease over his hips and you're realizing how much you saw him shirtless more often. outside of the bedroom and fucking you, he rarely stripped down in any capacity. you wished that would change; you couldn't get enough of him in any capacity.

chocolate tousled curls moused up from the night before, rick looks amazing, given what the world had put him through by forty. your eyes glaze over as he slides his watch on and you feel a tingle from down under.

a blush creeps on your face and you're having trouble keeping your thoughts clean. how could you him dressing in front of you and daryl in the bathroom?

you imagine what he must've looked like fresh out of the academy, young and handsome. still was handsome, not anywhere close to your age though.

the man breaks you out of your thoughts when he catches you staring and you just smile sheepishly at him. "look who decided to wake up."

"you should fuck me since i'm up early."

"'that a challenge?" rick raises an eyebrow. you shake your head yes and rick is sitting on the bed, snapping back the duvet to snake his hand up your bare thigh and crooking a finger into you. it's not as hard as he thought, smiling as he easily jostles another finger into you. "you wake up this horny, darlin'?"

"mhmm," you confirm.

"this the," he does an air quote inside of you, "'lady boner' daryl was talkin' about."

"you're looking at it."

the older man chuckles. the curl of his finger works a groan out of you and its hard to focus. your eyes linger on the doorway. when is daryl coming out? you muse, wanting to see your favorite archer - maybe even beneath you.

your thoughts jolt back to rick who has added another finger despite the resistance from your tight cunt. "what a stretch," you breathe shakily.

"think you can stretch a bit more than this."

"think i can cum on your fingers?"

rick laughs. “you think since you’re awake for once you deserve to cum?”

"please!"

"you wanna start your day off cummin' on my fingers?"

you nod your head vigorously.

"go ahead, baby."

tipping your head back, you babble and clench around rick's fingers. a distorted moan comes from your throat when he adds some pressure to your clit to pleasure you through your orgasm. it's all made even better by how rick is gazing at you with darkened blue eyes, like playing with your clit is the perfect way to start off his morning before he has to go on watch.

you may have to start waking up earlier.

"'fuck did i miss?"

[nev3rfound]

anyone but you : b.b

you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way? (2.6k)

we've got ourselves a good'un today angels, and you have @imagine-all-the-fandoms for the brill idea :)

warnings - graphic descriptions of torture and wounds. (but fluffy ending)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

“Mmh, okay. So, our options- wait stop laughing at me!” Throwing the menus in his direction, Bucky stifles the rest of his laugh by trying to play it off as a cough.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up the menus that had been promptly thrown at him. "I'm not laughing at you doll." Bucky reasons, moving across the sofa to now kneel in front of the coffee table where you're perching opposite him looking through your phone for alternatives.

"Sure sounds like it to me." You chide, glancing up with a mischievous glint in your eyes, one Bucky can't help but get lost in, completely missing the words sounding from your lips. Clicking your fingers in front of him, Bucky snaps from the depths of his mind.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks, only elated as your grin widens into a playful smile. "Right, dinner!" Bucky slaps his hand down on his thigh before rising to his feet and dramatically clasps one hand over his eyes. "How 'bout we do the random selector, huh?"

Chuckling to yourself, you nod along before rising to your feet. "Let's do it, Barnes."

Covering your eyes as well, the pair of you reach down and clutch a menu in your grasp and open your eyes. "I got Chinese!" You announce, and Bucky grunts in disappointment as he holds up the leaflet loosely.

"I got the shitty pizza place a few blocks away." He groans, watching you cheer victoriously. "You won this time, Y/n." He rushes over to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around your waist before lifting you up, hearing you squeal before dropping the menu. "But I'll win next time, mark my words."

With your arms around his neck, Bucky dips you lowly with a smirk. "That so, Barnes?" You tease, leaning closer to his face. "We'll see." You add, closing the distance between you both with a sweet quick kiss. "Now come on, I'm starving!"

*

"Thirty minutes til we land, guys." Natasha announces from the front of the jet.

Unable to keep his knee from bouncing once the announcement was made, Bucky cannot stop his thoughts from returning to you. It had been a longer mission than anticipated with little to no contact with the outside world. He's so used to sending a text, a quick call to just hear your voice and know you're okay whether it be doing a mundane task or listening to you moan about a colleague.

That's one of the things Bucky loves about you; the normalcy of it all. You couldn't be more of a polar opposite to the former soldier, with a 9-5, a pension scheme, and health benefits included. Whereas he just gets thrown into the unknown more than he cares to admit and comes out slightly more traumatized with each mission.

Noting the nervous actions of his friend, Steve nudges Bucky's arm. "You got plans with Y/n once we get back?" Steve asks, knowing it'll help pass the remaining time until they land.

Within seconds the tension melts from Bucky's body and even Sam catches the barely there smile on the soldier's face.

"Going to this movie theatre she loves, it's kinda run down but she likes to call it 'old school.'" He quotes, picturing the first time you dragged him along to the theatre. "And well, I've got something planned for her, but I don't know." Bucky trails off, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Well, sounds great to me, Buck." Steve comments, moving slightly closer, and lowers his head in an attempt to keep the overs from interrupting. "So, you ever gonna bring her to the compound?"

Bucky sighs deeply and Steve backs up, knowing it's useless to even pry further into it.

"It's just so good, Steve." Bucky starts, glancing around at those around him, some looking through reports and others dozing off. "I don't want her to get enveloped in this side of our life." He explains and Steve simply nods. "I love what we have, and, and I don't wanna risk ruining that."

"Understood." Steve pats Bucky's arm. "She really brings out the best in you, you know?"

"Yeah, he's been notably less grumpy since they got together." Sam comments from the other side of the jet, receiving a brief glare from Bucky. "Less grumpy, Barnes. You're no ray of sunshine yet."

The rest of the flight sped by whilst Bucky remained deep in his thoughts which mostly circled around you. He was jolted from his memories once the jet landed and they all began to disembark.

As the team began to walk through the compound, Bucky quickly got his phone out to send you a message. But before he could even start to type one, a series of urgent texts flash up on his screen.

"Bucky?" Steve calls out to his friend who is almost frozen in place, staring down at his phone with panic written across his expression. "Buck?" Walking toward his friend, he looks down at Bucky's phone and feels his heart drop at what he's reading.

With a shaky hand, Bucky forces his head up to meet Steve's eyes. "Steve, I," He can barely form the right words, unsure what to even say. "This, this can't happen." His mind shifts to denial, but upon hearing his name being called urgently up ahead by Tony and Bruce he can feel his whole world crashing down on him.

*

The first sensation that came back was your smell. In hindsight, you wish it wasn't and that you could've remained senseless, but you weren't so lucky.

It smelt like metal, smoke, and sweat. Little did you know, that was all coming from you.

Your eyesight followed suit and quickly alerted your captures with delight that you were conscious at last. "Help!" You cry out, now noticing your arms shackled to a wall in a dank-looking cell. "Please, help me!" Within seconds the screams tear at your throat, scratching it raw as laughter enters your ears.

Through the shadows, a large figure emerges holding up an old school camcorder whilst he grimaces at you, eyes roaming over the wounds inflicted. "Bout time you woke up darling." The man snarls, moving closer into your enclosed space. "Wanna say hi to your friends?" Forcing the camera to your face, you're quick to turn your head away, only to feel a sweaty hand clench your jaw and force you to look directly into the lens as tears glisten in your eyes. "You know what to do if you want her back." The man comments, further confusing you about the situation before he reveals a small knife in his grasp.

"No, please," You plead, shaking your head at the sight of the knife rising before plowing it down into your thigh.

The last thing Bucky sees is your face contorted in pain, the movement of your lips as you scream in anguish. But all of the sounds have become white noise.

"Do we know who sent this?" Steve is the first to ask, noting Bucky standing too still for his own liking.

Raising his hand, Bruce swipes across and reveals three headshots of so-called reformed criminals. "Jason Donahough, Mark Whitehall, and Edward Polaski." Bruce points to each, pausing at the sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring, the plates sliding as he clenches both fists at the images.

"I know them." Bucky states through gritted teeth.

"A message was delivered with the video, we're trying to locate the source with the help of FRIDAY." Tony explains, revealing the two simple sentences.

Come get your girl, Winter Soldier. It's time to resume the game.

A shudder spreads through Bucky at the second sentence. They still remember what he did, and clearly aren't messing around this time.

"I have to go." Bucky tells himself, too in his own head to notice several pairs of eyes fall on him in alarm.

"Bucky, that's," Steve starts, but Bucky is already walking out the door before he can finish his sentence. "We gotta go, who's in?"

Almost every hand shoots up and Steve nods, everyone starts to file out, knowing what needs to be done.

*

They came in abruptly, knocking the chains on your ankles to alert you of their presence. Mostly they just wanted to taunt you, sometimes they'd spare you the pain of reminding you that you were alone and no one would come for you. But more often than not, they'd add to your growing list of injuries, conflicting another wound to your skin as more blood stains the tiles.

No one answers the questions you ask when conscious enough to form words. 'Where am I?' 'How long have I been here?' and the one that scares you most of all, 'Why me?'

"You think he'll come?" Your ears perk up at the question, and you force your heavy head up an inch to see two of your attackers conversing outside of your cell.

One of them is holding a phone tightly in his grasp, chewing on his lip at the question. "For her? Hopefully." He scoffs before looking back at you, noticing the corners of your lips rising weakly. "What're you smiling at, bitch?" His voice rises before he marches over to you, grabs a hold of your face with one hand, and stares you dead in the eyes. "Somethin' you wanna say?" He demands, eyes widening awaiting a response.

Instead, you spit in his face, watching him recoil in disgust.

"You'll pay for that," He states, reaching into his pocket for something whilst your eyes grow heavy once again, unaware of a red light flickering through the base and alarms blaring.

The two men exchange a look, one you're oblivious to when your head slumps back down to rest against your chest.

"Showtime." One of the men laughs, clapping his hands before they both exit the cell, leaving your weak body alone-something you can be silently thankful for.

"Bucky," His name passes from your lips before your eyes drop once more.

Leading the mission, Bucky refuses to trail from the plan. Sometimes, he'll swerve from the set motions, but when it comes to you, nothing is to be changed or come as a surprise.

Continuing through the dank corridors, Bucky keeps his gun aimed in front of him whilst Steve and Natasha follow behind. So far Bucky has not left a single guard standing, and some without breath.

"You think this is it?" Natasha questions, looking at a series of locked doors, each with a number printed above and the red light flashing.

Bucky remains silent, trying to zone out from the murmurs behind him. His eyes continuously scan over the doors, he homes in on the furthest down the corridor, noting the light flashing white instead of red.

"There." Bucky speaks up, picking up pace toward the door only to be surprised by three guards who start shooting.

Wasting no time, Bucky tears the three down with ease. He ignores their screams whilst he shoots and punches his way through them.

Breathing deeply, Bucky leans forward to see a series of buttons to unlock the door. "Got any idea-" Steve starts, only to be met with Bucky smashing his metal fist into the panel, causing the door to open.

Adjusting their eyes to the dimly lit room, the trio enter apprehensively.

Scanning the room, Bucky's breath catches in his throat at the frail figure in the corner of the room. "Y/n?" His voice croaks, wasting no time to rush to your side, delicately lifting your head up to his lap. Eyeing over your various injuries, Bucky shakes his head and nestles your cheek with his hand. "What've they done to you?"

"Buck, we've got to get her out, now." Steve places his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching his oldest friend help you up and break the chains keeping you cemented in place. "Nat's clearing our exit, we don't have long."

Upon picking you up, Bucky freezes at your loud cry. "I'm sorry, doll, I'm so sorry." He repeatedly mumbles into your neck as he cradles your body in his arms all too aware of you dipping in and out of consciousness.

Much to their surprise, their exit is easier than anticipated. With you lying limp in Bucky's arms breathing heartlessly, Nat starts the jet up.

"It was all just to prove a point." Bucky states quietly, an oxygen mask now covering your nose and mouth. "just to show they could still get back at me, after all this time." His fists begin to clench on the edge of the seat, something Steve quickly picks up on as he moves to sit beside the pair of you.

Looking down at you in daylight, Steve could feel his heart clench in his chest. From what he saw of you briefly in photographs, you were shell of the woman you were physically, let alone mentally when you eventually come to.

"She's safe now, Buck." Steve reminds Bucky, feeling a sense of hope wash over the jet at your eyes open.

"Buck?" You croak, trying to lift your hand up, only for it to be held tightly by Buckys. "You, you found me." Tears start to build in your eyes upon seeing his, only for them to quickly refill with black spots.

"Of course, I'll always find you." Bucky whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a tear glides across your skin.

two months later

"Okay, okay!" Bucky chuckles heartfully, clutching the menu in his grasp above his head whilst you pout up at him. "Just say sorry and it's yours, doll."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lightly sigh. "Come on, that's not fair. Steve will agree with me on this, right, Steve?" Glancing over your shoulder, Steve doesn't move a muscle from the armchair situated in the compound living area. "Steve?" Waving your hand, you reach for a cushion to throw at him, only for it to be deflected at the last second.

"I think you've got a slight advantage here, Buck." Steve chimes in, much to Bucky's playful dismay.

Lowering his arms back down, Bucky kneels in front of you with the menu in hand. "Here you go, doll." He winks, watching you snatch it from his grasp before wheeling backward toward the coffee table.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes." You salute, reaching across for your crutch to ease you out of the wheelchair.

Upon hearing a quiet wince, Bucky's gaze falls upon you, and starts to walk in your direction to assist. "She's got this." Natasha pipes up, now entering the room to see what all the commotion was.

"Thanks, Nat." You smile, now using the crutch you reach for your phone, revealing the scarring on your forearm which sometimes hurts to see.

With a quick tug, you pull on the sleeve of Bucky's henley you've stolen before dialing for the takeaway and leaving the room.

Now left alone with two old friends, Bucky can practically hear their questions protruding. "She's just taking things a day at a time." Bucky explains, burying his head in his hands at the memories of the past few months.

"I mean, I haven't heard her laugh like this since before," He trails off, not wishing to finish the sentence as images of blood, your screams, and pleads replay.

"It's alright," Natasha comments with a soft smile. "She's tougher than she looks, for a civilian that is." She adds.

"Who're you callin' a civilian?" You speak up, feigning shock at Natasha's remark. "I happen to be a very special person." You add, slowly making your way toward Bucky.

Smiling at the interaction, Steve dares to ask. "And what makes you special, huh, Y/n?" He plays along, thankful to see Bucky's smile growing as you reach him, wrapping your free arm around his middle.

"'Cause this guy gets to date me." You state with a smug grin, feeling Bucky kiss your temple with a smile on his lips. "Nothing more special than that, right?" Looking up at Bucky, his smile only widens as the sparkle in your eye flashes for a moment, slowly making its return.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky tells you. "Luckiest guy around."

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[jokeringcutio]

Reader x William Afton - Best Friend's dad (Explicit, SMUT)

Below you'll find a FNAF Ficlet, Rated Explicit for Sexual Content, Dub-con elements, unprotected!, fingering, creampie, forced creampie/breeding kink, older man x younger woman, loss of virginity, Best friend's dad x reader, William Afton is not a nice man, dark romance, Penis in v smut, (f) reader. Summary: After working on a project with your classmate (who is also your best friend and secret crush) Michael Afton, you forget your phone and head back to his house to retrieve it. Michael's dad has plans for you.

~ Best Friend's Dad ~

The floorboards creaked under your feet as you tiptoed over to Michael, leaning over his shoulder to watch what he was scribbling. He was seated on his bed, both of you in his bedroom, as you tried to work on a group project.

“It’s looking good,” you said, a bright smile on your lips. “Better with the colors added.”

Michael smiled up at you, a spark in his eyes while his arm brushed against yours, making goosebumps prickle your skin. “Well, it was your idea. And since we need to hold a presentation on this, I suppose aesthetic is just as important," he rolled his eyes, voice jocular, but you knew that he at least had taken your suggestions to heart.

You were there to work on a college assignment with him, but the atmosphere felt charged with something else - tension, desire, and silent communication. You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your body betrayed you, responding to every gentle brush of Michael's arm against yours.

"Hey, do you think we should add this quote here?" Michael asked, his voice low and soothing as he leaned closer to you, his breath tickling your ear. His fingers brushed against yours, causing your heart to race with anticipation. You blushed, shyly glancing up into his intense gaze, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Though you had been friends for years, it was only recently that you began to feel attracted to him. But you wanted to take things slow; you didn't want to risk ruining the friendship if things didn't work out.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you stuttered, attempting to regain control over your body and thoughts. It wasn't easy, especially with Michael sitting so close to you.

"Come on, don't be so nervous," Michael teased, noticing your discomfort. "It's just me, after all." He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief, making your stomach flutter with excitement. You knew he was right, but you couldn't help feeling overwhelmed by the situation.

"Sorry," you mumbled, ducking your head down to avoid his probing gaze. "I guess I'm just...overthinking things." You focused on the assignment, trying to keep your mind off the electric energy that seemed to flow between you and Michael.

"Nothing wrong with thinking," he said, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Your eyes traveled to where he had held you, as if the touch still lingered. Your skin burned where he had touched you, your pulse quickening. Then you looked back up at him, trying to read his expression. Did he feel the same way you did? Was he testing the waters, or just being friendly?

The sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and you frowned at Michael, who seemed just as surprised as you were. The two of you shared a look before he shrugged it off and returned to the assignment.

"Didn't expect Dad to be home this early," he murmured, his pen scratching against the paper.

"Michael, is that you?" A deep voice called from downstairs, and your breath hitched.

William Afton, Michael's father, had an imposing presence that made you feel uneasy in his company. As he appeared in the doorway of Michael's bedroom, you couldn't help but compare him to his son. He was taller, his hair peppered with grey strands, and his beard gave him a distinguished air. The aviator glasses perched on his nose gave him somewhat of a stern appearance, and you wondered how Michael would look if he wore glasses. Pretty similar, you mused.

But beneath the similarities, there was something darker lurking in his eyes – something that sent shivers down your spine.

"Ah, I see you have some… company," William sneered, his gaze traveling over your body like a predator sizing up its prey. He greeted you by your name, “It’s been a while since I last saw you,” he said.

“Hi Mr. Afton,” you stammered, cheeks red as you felt uncomfortable being addressed by Michael’s father directly. You were happy that he usually wasn’t around much, being too caught up at work in the restaurant. The way he looked at you was making you feel uneasy.

While his eyes remained fixed on you, his words were clearly directed at his son again while he loomed in the doorway, hands pressed against the doorpost on either side. "Well, Michael, I didn't know you had your girlfriend over.”

"Dad, she's not my girlfriend,” Michael replied, a bit too fast for your liking, and you cast him a curious glance to see how he shifted uncomfortably next to you.

“She's my classmate. We're working on a project together," Michael snapped, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You could tell he was annoyed by his father's insinuation, but you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

"Right, well, don't let me interrupt your… studies," William drawled, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he retreated down the hallway. "I'll be in my workroom if you need anything."

As soon as he was out of sight, you exhaled the breath you'd been holding, feeling the weight of his stare lift from your shoulders. You didn't like the way he looked at you, as though you were nothing more than an object for his amusement. It made your skin crawl.

"Sorry about that," Michael muttered, his eyes downcast. "My dad can be a bit…intense."

"It's okay," you reassured him, attempting a weak smile. "Let's just focus on the assignment."

You tried to push the encounter from your mind, but the tension in the room was palpable, even after William had disappeared down the hallway. Michael clenched his fists, his jaw tight with frustration. "I swear, he's such an asshole," he muttered under his breath.

"Hey, it's okay," you tried to console him, laying a gentle hand on his arm. "Let's just get this assignment done and forget about it."

He let out a deep breath and nodded, forcing a smile. "You're right. Grumping about it won’t help us score an A."

“A plus,” you joked, happy to see him smile again.

The two of you scribbled down notes and discussed theories until you both carried honest smiles again. Silly jokes slipped through, weird suggestions for the project were made, and in the end, the two of you were laughing on the bed.

You couldn't help but feel Michael's eyes on you every now and then. It wasn't unwelcome, but it stirred a strange mix of warmth and unease within you. You really liked him. But did you like him enough?

"All right, I think we've got everything we need," Michael announced as he closed his textbook. He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed. "Damn, I need to head to soccer training."

"Already?" you asked, surprised by how quickly time had slipped away.

"Unfortunately,” he moped, standing up from the bed and putting his book aside. “But hey, thanks for your help today."

He stretched his arms before offering a hand to help you up from the bed. "I'll walk you out."

You smiled as you collected your bag, putting your own textbook and pencils inside before zipping it and flinging it over your shoulder. Michael waited patiently before walking ahead of you, through the clean hallway and toward the front door. He only halted once to grab his soccer bag.

As you reached the door, Michael hesitated. "Listen, I'm really sorry for the rush. I completely forgot the time and you know…"

"It's all right, Michael," you reassured him, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Don't worry about it. We finished what we had to do. We can play one of your games later," you said, knowing how you usually loved to spend your time together playing games on his game consoles or by watching silly videos online. You still tried to convince him to start a channel of his own. His impressions were the best.

Michael closed the door behind you before he offered a small smile and pulled you into a hug. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you in for a hug.

The scent of his cologne filled your senses, making your heart race. You hesitated for a moment before returning the embrace.

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he whispered in your ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow at college.”

With that, you both pulled away and said your goodbyes.

The cold air nipped at your skin and you huddled your coat closer around you. As you walked away from the Afton house, you reached into your bag to grab your phone, seeking a distraction, only to find that it wasn't there.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, stopping in your tracks. Panic set in as you realized you had left it behind at Michael's place - and it had crucial notes for college on it.

The haunting memory of Mr. Afton’s gaze lingered in your mind, making you shudder involuntarily. You had to go back there, you realized. And without Michael, it meant you would have to face his father again.

Alone.

But it seemed you had no choice. You turned back towards the Afton house, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of facing Mr. Afton again sent chills down your spine, but you knew you couldn't afford to leave your phone behind.

You hesitated at the front door of the Afton house, your hand hovering over the doorbell. Your heart raced in your chest, the pounding a constant reminder of what you were about to face.

"Come on, it's just a phone," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up the courage to ring the bell. Finally, you pressed it, the chime echoing through the seemingly empty house.

Not much later, the door creaked open, revealing a displeased William Afton. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, an irritated sigh escaping his lips. "Back already? What do you want?"

"Um, I-I left my phone inside," you stammered, glancing nervously into the dimly lit hallway behind him. "I need it for college."

"Fine," he snapped, stepping aside to allow you entry. "Make it quick."

You stepped into the house, your pulse quickening with each step you took toward Michael's room. The door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open, relieved to spot your phone between the covers of Michael's bed. Bending over, you reached for it.

And then you froze as you felt a presence behind you, too close for comfort. Something hard and hot was suddenly pressed against you. Mr. Afton’s hands found your hips, steadying you as if you were about to fall.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you managed to choke out, your voice barely audible.

"Isn't it obvious?" he replied nonchalantly, smirking down at you. Panic coursed through your veins, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

William Afton’s hands started to unapologetically roam your body, his fingers tracing the outline of your trembling form. Each touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for the attraction you felt toward him. He leaned in close, his warm breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "I've wanted you for so long, watching you with Michael every time you came over. How I wished it was me touching you instead."

"Michael never touched me,” you whispered, uncertain why those words came out. Why did you feel like you had to defend your relationship with Michael in front of his dad? “We are just friends," you insisted, your voice shaking.

"Really?" William sounded genuinely surprised. “Does he know this?”

You blinked, uncertain of what Mr. Afton meant.

An annoyed groan came from behind you as one of William’s hands roughly kneaded one of your breasts through your shirt. You yelped, arching your back and accidentally pushing your hips right against his crotch. His erection pushed back, making you freeze in his hands once more.

“I suppose what I am trying to ask,” Mr. Afton rasped, his breath tickling the skin of your neck and voice hoarser than you ever heard it before, "is if you ever slept with my son?”

You trembled slightly in his hands, mind reeling. So many memories of being in the Afton household emerged, but they were all friendly. Never like that.

“Not even a blowjob?” He whispered, voice dripping with sin.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you shook your head determinedly. “Like I said, Mr. Afton, we are just friends.”

A low hum escaped the older man, his fingers tickled down your skin thoughtfully. “Hard to believe a pretty girl like you never got laid." Something changed about his tune then, as his words turned into a rasped whisper, "I suppose what I want to know is...”

Here he hesitated, brushing his lips past the shell of your ear while his arms kept you trapped against his body, “Are you a virgin?"

The question shocked you to your core, and you stammered, "Mr. Afton! That's... inappropriate."

"Is it now?" he teased, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, making contact with your sensitive clit. The feeling surprised you, your body instantly responding to his touch. You gasped as he began rubbing slow circles around it, igniting a fire within you that you'd never experienced before.

"You're wet," he stated, his voice low and dangerous. "You must want this, don't you?"

"Please," you begged, unsure whether you were asking for him to stop or continue. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts and desires, your body betraying you as it craved more of his touch.

"Such a good girl," he murmured, inserting a finger inside you, making you whimper. The haunting tone of his voice seemed to wrap around you like a vice, tightening its grip on your very soul.

"Mr. Afton," you moaned, unable to resist the urge to push back against his hand, seeking more of that intoxicating pleasure he offered.

“Oh-ho, Mr. Afton,” William said while his fingers continued their sinful dance, sliding in and out of your cunt with sopping wet sounds that sounded so sinful, you felt like you were losing your mind. Especially when he started flicking his thumb roughly past your clit.

“I like that,” his words came out as a growl while he nipped his teeth at your ear. “Makes me feel in charge.”

Without a warning, Afton’s fingers slipped deeper inside your sopping wet cunt, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the lewd sounds that echoed throughout the room. Your thoughts raced, unable to comprehend that it was your best friend's father who was currently fingering you so expertly.

"God, you're so tight and wet," he growled, his voice sending shivers down your spine. Your walls clamped down on his fingers despite their punishing pace. It felt so, so good. "You must really enjoy this, huh?"

His words were like a knife, cutting through any remaining self-control you had left. You bit your lip, trying to focus on anything other than the pleasure that threatened to consume you. But it was impossible – every stroke of his fingers, every teasing touch against your sensitive clit, only drew you deeper into the dark abyss of desire.

"Please..." you whimpered, the word barely audible as it escaped your lips. You didn't even know what you were begging for anymore – relief? Mercy? More?

"You're such a good girl," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. "So eager to please... Just imagine if Michael could see you now."

The thought mortified you, but it also sent a perverse thrill through your body. The idea of being discovered in such a vulnerable state only served to heighten your arousal.

"Look at me," William demanded, grabbing your chin and forcing you to meet his icy gaze. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to look away as he continued to finger you mercilessly.

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice dripping with authority. It took every ounce of willpower you possessed not to obey him instantly, but in the end, your body betrayed you.

With a cry, you climaxed on his fingers, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a relentless tidal wave. As you trembled in his arms, he smirked down at you, clearly enjoying the sight of your complete and utter submission.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, slowly retracting his hand from between your legs. You felt a pang of loss as his fingers left your body, but that feeling was quickly replaced by shame as he held them up for you to see.

"Look," he commanded, making sure you watched as he brought his wet digits up to his face. His lips parted, agonizingly slowly, and then his tongue darted out between them, the tip twirling around his fingertips.

He made sure that you watched him as he licked each finger clean, the wet trace of your arousal glistened before his tongue lapped it up. His cold blue eyes were fixed upon you, their pupils blown as he savored the taste of you. A low hum escaped him as he finished the last of your juices. "Tastes sweet."

Then his blue eyes settled back on you, dark and gaze heavy.

His words made something snap inside of you. What the fuck were you doing? You’ve let your best friend’s father finger you?

No.

He had made it look all too easy, and if there was something you were not, it was an easy lay. You had saved yourself for someone special. For Mr. Right. You hadn’t decided who it was yet, but Michael was high on your list. Not his creepy father who he seemed to hate passionately.

Your eyes darted down, away from William’s glistening fingers and to the tent he sported in his pants. The shape of his cock was perfectly outlined beneath the fabric, looking large and heavy.

He wasn’t done yet.

You had to get away.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to push past William and make a dash to Michael’s door, desperate to escape. But he was quicker. Large hands wrapped around your upper arms. You instantly struggled and kicked at him. But he was too strong, easily tossing you back onto Michael's bed like a ragdoll. The air was knocked from your lungs as you landed, gasping for breath.

"Imagine how dirty it would be," William whispered, crawling on top of you. The sound of rustling fabric reached your ears as he undid his fly and pulled out his hard and glistening cock, palming it. "If I took your virginity right here on my son's bed."

Your cheeks burned with shame at his words, but a traitorous part of you couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought.

"Please don't," you whimpered, even as your core throbbed with a mixture of fear and desire. But your pleas only seemed to amuse him. He smirked, easily parting your legs with his strong hands.

"Come on, work with me," he ordered, his voice dripping with authority. His hands pushed against your legs, making it clear what he wanted you to do.

Reluctantly, you spread your legs wider, not fighting when he started to pull your pants down, making it easier for him to slip your panties off. You knew it was wrong, but the heat pooling between your thighs refused to be denied.

With a predatory grin, William came to stand between your spread legs, wrapping his hand around his cock, sliding his palm up and down, smearing pre-cum from the tip all over his shaft until it glistened.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight– it was as if you were under his spell. Your heart raced, torn between terror and anticipation.

His eyes flitted down to your exposed core and he tutted.

“My, my, such a pretty little pussy,” and you felt your cheeks flush at his comment. "All mine."

The low rasp of his voice sent sparks of arousal deep inside.  

"Look at me," he commanded, positioning himself at your entrance. You no longer saw his cock, only felt it as it pressed hot and wet against your entrance.

You locked eyes with him, unable to look away. Slowly, his lips curled into a grin. And then, without warning, he thrust inside you, bottoming out, claiming your virginity in one swift, brutal motion.

The pain was sharp and intense, but it was soon replaced by an overwhelming wave of pleasure as William started to pump into you. First gently, then a bit faster.

Your world narrowed down to the sensation of his hard length filling you completely. You knew it was wrong – so very wrong – but you were powerless to resist the pleasure he was giving you. You parted your lips in silent gasps while your hands sought his arms for leverage.

William's thrusts grew more rhythmic, his hips grinding against yours with a hunger that both terrified and excited you. He leaned down, close enough for you to feel his breath on your ear as he whispered, "You like this, don't you? You like being fucked on my son's bed."

Your cheeks burned with shame, but you couldn't deny the pleasure that consumed you. It was intoxicating, the way William seemed to know exactly how to touch you, how to make your body sing.

"Answer me," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His hand snaked around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Do you like this?."

"I... I do," you admitted, the words spilling from your lips before you could stop them. You felt the stutter of his hips, how he stilled, then looked up to see him frown down at you.

"Do you?"

You frowned as well now, the haze of your building orgasm already slowly fading. It was as if William saw what was happening, for he pushed his cock deep inside, nudging the entrance to your womb painfully with the head, staking dominance.

"Tell me you are mine," the words came out with an animalstic growl that indicated he wouldn't take pleasure with anything less than your compliance. You hesitated, breath caught in your throat, then complied, placing your hands gently upon his clad chest. The checkered blouse crumpled beneath your fingers.

"I'm yours," another raised eyebrow and deep nudge of his cockhead against your cervix, and you flinched.

"Whose?" he asked you sternly, reminding you of a schoolteacher with the way his dark eyes penetrated you from over his glasses.

"Yours, Mr. Afton," you gasped, instantly feeling his hips move again. A low, satisfied growl escaped the depth of his chest. You felt it, felt the rumble beneath your hands.

"Atta girl," you heard the breathless words from his lips. "Call me Mr. Afton more, sweetheart. Show who is in charge."

"Y-yes, Mr. Afton," the words came out as gasps, unable to utter them fully with the way William was moving inside you.

A wicked grin spread across William's face, his hand slid past your forehead and gently down your cheek, almost lovingly. And then he rewarded your honesty with a particularly hard thrust that sent shivers down your spine.

"Good girl," he purred, his fingers digging into your skin as he picked up the pace. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent pressure that begged for release.

“You can come again, can’t you?” It wasn't really a question, more like a demand. “I want to feel you come on my cock."

His command echoed in your mind as his movements grew rougher, more desperate. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans intertwining with his grunts and groans.

William Afton was larger than you, bulkier, and incredibly strong. His hand slipped back to your throat, tightening a little, just enough to make you gasp for air. The action made your walls clench down his cock even harder. The way he overpowered you, the way his cock hit that sweet spot deep inside, had you mewling with pleasure. Sweat slicked your bodies, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight," William growled, his voice strained with pleasure as your pussy pulsed around him.

"Please," you whimpered, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "Please, I need to..."

"Then come for me," he ordered, his grip on your throat tightening, literally taking your breath away. "Show me how much you want this."

As if on cue, your world shattered into a million pieces, your body convulsing with pleasure. Never had you experienced such an intense orgasm, and it left you breathless, oversensitive, and desperate for more.

You threw your head back in ecstasy, feeling his fingers slip from your neck. Your pussy pulsed wildly around his cock. William's laughter filled your ears, malicious and victorious.

"Feel that?" he asked, his voice rough with lust. "That's how much you belong to me. And now,” he said in between gasps, his hips pushing harshly against yours. You felt how your walls fluttered around his cock as it kept battering your cervix with fervor.

A low grunt escaped the depth of his chest, “I’m going to come,” he panted. Another gasp and deep thrust of his hips that had you shoved up the bed, pussy still pulsing wildly around his cock, “inside you,” he promised, each word punctuated with a fresh thrust. "Deep inside of you."

You were faintly aware of murmuring something incoherently, to which Michael’s dad replied with a murmur of his own, “Inside, love. Put my baby there. See how Michael's gonna like a baby brother or sister from the girl he loves." The thought both thrilled and scared you, and you shook your head no - not yet, too young, not ready - but William growled above you, uncaring about your wish. "Gonna fill you up good."

The thought sent another wave of desire through you, and you found yourself clenching around him, desperate for more. With a roar, William drove himself deep inside you one final time.

Warm liquid flushed into your pulsing core, his hot cum flooding your insides so much that some of it started to drip down his cock, as he, too, reached his peak.

For a moment, the room was consumed by the sound of your mutual pants and gasps, the aftermath of your frenzied coupling.

You felt the hot rush of his release deep inside your tummy and realized what had been done. How you had just allowed Michael’s father to rut into you like an animal in heat.

The room smelled heavily of sex, the scent mingling with the musky aroma of Michael's bedroom. Shame started to creep upon you as you floated back to earth, the afterglow of your orgasm fading.

Slowly, William climbed off you, his cock sliding out of your abused cunt, leaving you feeling strangely empty. You felt a wet trail on the inside of your legs, a mixture of slick and cum.

"Stay here," he commanded, his tone sharp and cold as he strode over to the window, flinging it open, allowing the cool evening air to filter into the room. The breeze stirred the curtains, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

As William returned to the bed, he casually reached for a napkin that was tucked under Michael's pillow. You followed his movements with your eyes, feeling them grow wide as they came to rest on his softening cock. It glistened in the light of Michael’s bedroom lamp. Covered in juices.

And blood.

You watched how Michael’s dad meticulously used the napkin to wipe the remnants of your virgin blood from his cock. Without a word, he then folded the soiled napkin and slipped it into the breast pocket of his blouse, patting the pocket, as if it were a trophy.

The sight made you shudder.

His gaze fell upon the blood and cum-stained sheets, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Well, I suppose Michael's bed has seen better days," he mused. "We shouldn't let his mom see this." Then his eyes locked onto yours.

"But you, my dear... You've been such a good girl, letting me be your first." His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of shame and excitement coursing through your veins.

"Please don't tell anyone," you pleaded as you tried to push yourself up on your elbows, your voice trembling with vulnerability. You knew that if word ever got out about what had happened, your life would never be the same again.

"Of course not," William said, his smile taking on a predatory edge. "As long as you’ll be my good girl,” he came to kneel on the bed, a knee at either side of you, cupping your cheeks in his hands and forcing your eyes to meet his.

His thumb slipped in between your lips, pressing down on your tongue, making it impossible for you to speak. You tried to swallow around the digit, mouth suddenly dry as he spoke slowly, as if he were talking to a small child and wanted to make sure the child understood.

“Just remember who you belong to."

The implications of his words hung heavy in the air between you, and despite the lingering thrill of your climax, a cold dread filled your stomach.

Then his thumb was gone from your lips and Mr. Afton had turned away from the bed. You gazed up at him confusedly, watching the movements of his arms as he seemed to zip his pants and straighten his blouse.

He then turned around, pushing his index finger against the front of his aviator glasses. His expression was stern, lips pressed into a thin line, voice betraying no emotion.

"Make yourself presentable, and go home," he commanded coldly. "You wouldn't want to fall behind on your homework, would you?" His tone was callous, as if nothing had just transpired between the two of you.

Confused and still trembling, you pushed yourself off the bed.

Mr. Afton leaned in the doorway of Michael’s room, arms crossed in front of his chest, a bored expression on his face as he watched you get dressed. You tried to straighten your clothes and fix your hair, arms trembling.

"Go home," he told you once you were fully clothed, his voice devoid of any warmth or affection. "Don’t forget your phone.”

You nodded numbly, unable to speak, swung your bag over your shoulder and picked up your phone. Carefully, you stepped toward him, only to watch him step aside so you could pass him without so much as brushing past him.

A little voice piped up inside your head, telling you that it had always tried to warn you of this. Mr. Afton’s coldness had returned in full. His searing hot gaze had been replaced by one you could not read. Distant and cold.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stumbled through the hall, each step a painful reminder of the heavy fucking you had just endured. The reality of what had happened began to sink in, and you couldn't help but wonder what would become of you now that you'd given yourself so completely to this dangerous man. The promise of having to be his good girl - of now belonging to this man - lingered in the back of your mind. Why had you made them?

William followed closely behind, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. As you reached out to open the door, thinking this was it and you would leave without another word being said, his hand shot up and pushed against the wood before you could turn the handle.

"Look at me," he demanded, forcing you to look up and meet his eyes. His gaze bore into you, making you feel even more powerless.

"From now on, I expect you to milk my cock whenever I desire." Chills ran down your spine at his words, a mix of fear and unwanted arousal stirring within you.

He lifted a finger to your lips, brushing the fingertip past your sensitive skin and silencing any protests you might have had. "This is our little secret, understood?"

The threat was in there, clear as day. You had to keep quiet about this.

Not that you could tell anyone. Not with how famous and influential of a man Mr. Afton was. And you? Who were you? Just a silly college girl.

You nodded, unable to speak.

William gave you a sinister smile before gallantly opening the door for you. “Atta girl,” you heard him say as he watched you intently while you stepped outside. “Come visit again soon," a command. You heard his low voice, a raw hunger underneath, "Michael loves it when you're here.”

And so does he, you thought, because being here meant he could get his hands on you again. It was clear by the way he carefully phrased things. He was abusing Michael as an excuse to lure you back in.

Your name fell from Mr. Afton's lips like dripping honey, a dark promise hidden within them, obviously coated with desire. He wanted to see you again. Do this again. And you realized with a start that you would be back... for Michael. But could you dodge his father? Prevent this from happening again? Did you even want to?

Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you wondered what kind of twisted nightmare you had just become entangled in.

“Good evening, Mr. Afton,” you whispered, then turned your back to him and slowly started your walk home. Aware of the secret you now carried. Bound to your best friend’s father.

Perhaps forever.

~

AN: I am open for prompts. ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

[nickfowlerrr]

call it what you want to

pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. pet names. dirty thoughts. uhhhh that's all? also not sure what trope this is lol but when i nail it down, i'll add it. i'm thinking it's just friends to lovers? frenemies to lovers maybe? idk lol.

words: 3.1k

notes: this was my attempt at writing a stand alone, less than 1k drabble. it did not go well. there will definitely be more lmao. eventually. <3 hope you guys like this, and thank you in advance for reading. as always, feeback and reblogs are more than welcome and are so appreciated! let me know your thoughts :)

“Fuck!”

Your voice echoed in the hallway of the apartment complex as you stared down at your take out now spilled all over the floor.

“Stupid goddamn key,” you cursed again, the key to your apartment caught in the metal loop of your lanyard. Truthfully, you knew you had too many keychains and this happened every time you had to jingle your keys from your bag. You should’ve set the food down, but you were too impatient to get inside.

While you struggled with your keys, the door to the apartment down the hall opened, the sound of it catching your attention.

You looked over and then quickly away as you saw him. As if things couldn’t get any more embarrassing, of course he had to be a witness to the mess that was you for the second time this week.

“Locked out again?” the tall, built brunette asked as he walked down the hall, his brilliant blue eyes set on you.

“No,” you grumbled, avoiding his gaze as you tried to free your key from the lock of rings it had become stuck in.

He stopped right next to you and you took a deep breath as you felt him watching you intently, analyzing the predicament you'd found yourself in. His eyes were on you for too long, making you more flustered than you already were, before they fell to the food laying on the ground by your feet.

He raised a brow before looking back up at you, leaning against the wall beside him, crossing his arms as he examined you further but continuing to say absolutely nothing.

“Is there a reason you’re staring, Mr. Barnes?” you huffed, annoyed.

“Mr. Barnes?” he questioned. “I’m not 80.”

“Could've fooled me," you mumbled under your breath with a roll of your eyes, "damn it," you whined, growing more and more frustrated at your lack of success in getting your key unstuck. You began shaking the set of keys from the base of the lanyard, hoping to get it free that way.

He grabbed the keys from your hand with a scoff and you watched as he easily pulled the key out of the rings it was caught in before dangling them in front of you.

You narrowed your eyes as you scowled at him and his obnoxiously smug face. Reaching to snatch the keys from him, he pulled them back right before you had them in your grasp. You could’ve growled with how irritated you were.

“I’m not in the mood, James. Give me my keys,” you demanded.

“James?” he repeated, sounding even more offended than before. "Christ, doll, let's go back to Barnes."

"I told you to stop calling me pet names not more than.. two days ago, did I not?" You shot him another sharp look as he smirked in response.

"Well, I believe your exact words were, 'Bucky, if you call me sweetheart one more time tonight, I'm going to file an official complaint against you with management for harassment'," he quoted you verbatim.

Your mouth parted as you furrowed your brows, you couldn't help how obviously taken aback you were at his apparent perfect memory and he smiled at the impressed look on your face.

"Huh, so you remember exactly what I said, and yet," you tittered humorlessly, "you're still doing it."

"You said nothing about being called 'doll' and your warning was clearly for that night only, so," he shrugged, blue eyes still on you while he simpered.

"Were you not on your way somewhere?"

"I was," he nodded before he pushed away from the wall, beginning to walk past you as you watched him, turning to follow his movements, dumbfounded at his dismissal. “I am,” he finished smoothly as he kept walking.

"The hell you are," you called after him, following him down the hall. "Give me my keys."

"Okay," he said, continuing to the stairwell. You scoffed in disbelief as you followed him through the doors and down the steps.

"Now," you specified as if he didn't know what you meant in the first place.

He seemed to fly down the stairs as he ignored you and you huffed in annoyance, resigning yourself to following him all the way down. When you reached the first floor, he was waiting for you with a boyish grin.

You shot daggers at him as you scowled, putting your hand out, palm up for him to drop your keys into. He looked at your hand quizzically, an eyebrow quirked before he took your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing them across your skin.

Your heart skipped a beat and you embarrassingly felt your breath catch in your throat the moment his eyes looked up to meet yours, the bright blues twinkling as his soft lips lingered on your hand.

It wasn't even a second before you pulled your hand away like he'd burned you.

You swallowed hard, standing straighter as you eyed him.

"Well, definitely gonna be making that harassment complaint now," you said, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his actions and the way his bright, easy smile had your heart fluttering.

"I don't think you'll have to go through the trouble. I'm thinking about moving out next month," he told you.

You felt your face drop slightly as you blinked at the news, a wave of disappointment and sadness running over you. "Oh," was all you breathed.

You both stood there for a moment, a charged silence between you and your neighbor begrudgingly turned, dare you say, friend...

Would he consider you a friend? Did he consider you at all? Of course he did. You'd been hanging out at least weekly for the past almost three months. You were friends. Right?

You forced the ridiculous thoughts away, not needing to dwell on them. It didn't matter.

"You just moved in a few months ago, you're trynna leaving already?" you asking trying to sound nonchalant.

He kept his eyes on you, and you could feel him keenly watching your every reaction. You just prayed he couldn't see too much. You didn't need to embarrass yourself anymore today.

His tongue jutted out past his pink lips before his ever-present smirk returned. "No, I'm not. Just wanted to see your reaction. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a little let down there, sweetheart."

You clicked your tongue, scoffing while you fought a smile as you eyed him challengingly. "Good thing you know better, then."

"Good thing," he nodded as he smiled wittingly at you.

"Can I have my keys back now?"

He took a deep breath in through his nose and out before turning around to continue out the gate and down the street.

"After we eat," he said over his shoulder, expecting you to follow him. "We're going to that Chinese place I was telling you about the other day." He held the gate for you and after a second, you walked out, waiting for him to lead the way. As easy as it would be for you to argue, you were starving.

"You're lucky I'm hungry, Barnes."

You were walking side by side as you felt him look over at you, simpering. You looked over to him in return and despite the brisk air hitting your face as you walked, your skin felt flushed - the look in his eyes causing warmth to rise under your cheeks as your own eyes flitted away, back to the street in front of you. You took a grounding breath.

“Lucky for a lot of reasons, doll. Guess good timing’s one of ‘em.”

"Joe's gonna have my ass if he sees the food I dropped on the floor," you laughed as you remembered the mess you’d left outside your apartment door. Bucky looked straight ahead then, too, unconsciously puffing out his chest as he brought his shoulders back and stood straighter. In that moment, you couldn’t help but admire how built he was, his tall stature and muscular frame. You wondered if he noticed the people who were avoiding him as they walked by, or the ones who ogled him as they passed. You certainly did.

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about it. Just take him up on that coffee date he keeps asking you for and he'll be cleaning it up himself." The normal levity his voice carried when he spoke to you was gone. He sounded...off, maybe a little huffy. You weren't sure why.

"How do you know about that?" you asked.

He took a second before he responded, a smirk gracing his face once again as he looked at you. "Thin walls," he answered, his eyes running up and down your figure as you faltered for just a moment, keeping your gaze ahead of you.

"Thin walls? Or super hearing?"

"A bit of both, maybe," he considered as he walked a bit closer to you. When he took another step near you, his arm brushing yours, you stopped walking, glancing over to him but not turning to face him head on. He leaned into you and spoke near your ear, his breath warm on your wind chilled skin, "You'd be surprised all the things I'm able to hear. Even the tiniest little squeaks in the middle of the night."

His voice was quiet and close and so damn suggestive. It made your stomach flip and sent a tingle through you as you took an unintentionally shaky breath at his proximity.

He leaned further past you and when your eyes followed his movements in front of and across your body, you realized you were standing in front of the restaurant, and he was pulling the door open for you.

When you finally managed to bring yourself to look at him, he was wearing a cocksure smile, while you worked hard to make sure you didn't let your mortification show, tried to play it cool like you had no idea what he could possibly be referring to. But with the way he was looking so sure and satisfied, you must have failed.

You cleared your throat as you turned sharply to walk past him into the restaurant, through the door he was holding for you. The second you stepped in, he was right behind you. You were halted in your path almost immediately after walking further inside as a man was leaving. There was a tight little hallway that led from the front entrance to the rest of the restaurant and you almost ran into him in the tight space, apologizing as you pressed yourself closer to the wall next to you so you didn’t touch him. There was a feeling of self consciousness threating to take over as you assessed the space you were taking up as opposed to that of the people trying to pass you. It was evident, at least in your mind, that you were the problem. You figured it'd be best to just back up out of the hallway and let them walk by without being so in the way. So caught up in your distance between you and the people in front of you, you hadn’t even recognized Bucky’s chest at your back, or your ass unintentionally flush against his crotch until his metal hand gripped your hip when you wiggled back to make room for the new people who were leaving.

You heard his sharp inhale as he held you still and wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole so you wouldn’t be able to keep embarrassing yourself. You weren't sure if you should mention it and apologize or just act like nothing happened…

“Sorry,” you breathed. Bucky didn’t respond, only squeezed your hip lightly again.

When the people who were leaving were past you, you turned your head to look at Bucky. “Go in front,” you ordered a bit snippy, not wanting to lead the way. You’d never been here and you didn’t know where to go and you were, understandably, already feeling flustered.

“Can't,” he responded, voice tight, urging you forward with his hand still on your hip. Your eyes widened though he couldn’t see before your brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Are you joking?”

“You were just wiggling your ass against me, doll, it’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. I’m only human,”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose, either,” you hissed quietly. "I can't believe you,"

Truth be told, Bucky couldn't believe himself either. He had a lot more self control than most, and such a light touch from anyone would never have him this visibly worked up. But the second you grazed against him, he immediately felt his cock stirring. It certainly didn't help that he'd only just been replaying the sounds of your desperate little moans, the ones he hears in the middle of the night along with the soft rumbling of whatever toy it is you use. The sweet sounds float into his room and all he can do it groan and torture himself with the thoughts of you, with the thoughts of one day getting to hear those whimpers in his ear as you wrap yourself around him and not just through the painfully thin walls of your apartment all alone...

He likes to imagine it's a sleek black rabbit. Envisions you pumping the silicone length in and out of your slick cunt as your head is thrown back in ecstasy, your breasts on full display, pert nipples just begging to be lavished upon as you arch your back, your thick thigh parted to afford him the perfect view of your glistening sex. Your tight pussy taking the toy so nicely, he can only imagine how incredible your silky walls feel gripping the length and squeezing along it as you work it in and out of yourself. He can't help but imagine what you'd feel like on his thick cock...his cock that, fucking hell, at this moment, was only growing harder and if he wasn't careful, he'd make himself look like even more a perverted jackass than he already had.

He forced himself to stop thinking about it, but it was impossible to stop thinking about you. Even if you weren't right here with him now, he was sure you'd be on him mind. He'd been finding himself having thoughts of you more and more frequently, even about the most mundane things. It seemed like every little thing led back to you.

He'd only known you now for a few months, but you seemed to occupy enough space in his mind that he would've sworn he'd known you for years. It felt that way, too. Like he could easily be himself around you, his true self. He wasn't sure you knew what effect you had on him, how you effortlessly got his walls down without even trying. He had no idea what it was about you, but it was something.

He's always being told how he was short with people, cold, closed off, grumpy, blunt, etc., etc., and he knew he was. There weren't many people he wanted to get to know, not many he wanted to even have to speak to. But with you.. It was almost embarrassing how excited he'd get when he'd hear your voice in the hallway, bounding up from wherever he was inside and heading straight for the door, pulling his boots on as fast as he could and grabbing his keys, then taking a second to compose himself and regain his air of cool before walking out the door. It didn't matter he had no plans of going anywhere, he just wanted an excuse to see you, to talk to you even if only in passing. He had a system to it now, too. If you were just getting home from somewhere, he'd pretend he was on his way to check his mail and if you were leaving, he'd be leaving, too. Taking the elevator with you, or the stairs depending on your mood, and then begrudgingly parting ways so he didn't appear like such a pup.

Occasionally, normally if it was late when you were headed out, he'd invite himself to go with you wherever it was you were going. On the times he'd miss your leaving, or you seemed like you wanted to be alone, he'd just...very nonchalantly, super casually, stealthily... follow you around the city. Not in a creepy way, he told himself. Just in a, a friendly, watching out for you way. It hadn't happened more than a handful of times, so it wasn't like he was stalking you. He really just wanted to make sure you were okay.

"You okay?" your voice asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

"'M fine, doll,"

"Great, well are you gonna apologize?" you said expectantly, turning your eyes on him as you looked up over your shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he breathed a smiled.

"Thank you," you stated simply before turning back around to look at the menu board. "And you can take your hand off of me now," you added, not wanting to say it while facing him, lest he catch the look in your eyes making it evident you wouldn't mind all that much if he kept his hands on your forever. And you wouldn't say it, but his touch was oddly comforting. You found yourself disappointed when he let his hand slip down from its place on your hip.

"Did I tell you my couch got delivered?"

"Oh yeah?" you laughed, grateful for the change in conversation.

"Mhm," he affirmed. "It could use some wearing in," he hinted.

"Not comfy?"

"Not just yet."

"Hm. I'm sure it'll get there."

"Come on, don't make me beg here,"

"Beg? For what?"

"You know what I'm getting at,"

"Do I?" you questioned, playing dumb. He sighed loudly as he stepped from behind you, moving instead to stand next to you again.

"Would you come over tonight? I'll even let you pick what we watch,"

You narrowed your eyes at the proposal. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

You pursed your lips, pretending to think on it, knowing full well your answer was a 'yes' the second he brought it up. "Okay," you agreed with a soft smile that you tried to hide.

He looked down at you next to him, admiring the way it felt so right to be near you, even as simply as this, as he smiled in return. "So you wanna eat here or take it back to my place?"

series masterlist

[petermorwood]

Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)

Long ago, @dduane and I had a Whirlpool combi microwave - micro, grill, fan oven - and It Was Great, big enough to use as a proper oven when what needed cooked in a proper oven was small enough that powering up the big proper oven in the cooker was a bit much.

Still with me...?

IIRC it was one of those Christmas presents where Mum, ever-practical, told us; "get yourselves something really useful but not too expensive (I did say practical!) and I'll go halves."

In 2016, after something like 15 years of pretty-well daily use for one thing and another, the old thing expired by stages, micro first, grill second, oven last - it made great bread up until the end - and went to recycling heaven.

*****

We couldn't find a one-for-one replacement (we needed a free-standing counter-top appliance, everyone was selling built-in), so until once was available (optimism) we bought an ordinary microwave.

NB, this and its successors were only used for ordinary microwave things like reheating, defrosting and dealing with freeze-cook stuff. They got nothing like the amount of use of the old combi, mostly because of being incapable of doing a lot of it. As things turned out, this didn't help much.

About eighteen months later, we had to buy another. If a microwave's enamel interior develops a crack (to this day I don't know how), moisture gets in, rust begins and the enamel pulls off the bare metal. That's when you get "sparking".

This demo is deliberate; believe me, when it's unexpected it's even worse.

A private welder show or lightning storm at the end of the kitchen counter when all you want is a hot cuppa is distinctly unsettling. Also, it's only going to get worse, and we could imagine - boy, could we - what "Much Worse" might look like.

To the recycle dump!

(NB, micros with stainless steel interiors don't seem to do this, probably because they're already tuned to deal with the bare metal.)

The replacement, another ordinary micro, Just Up And Died after eighteen months and, guess what, the quote for a check-up and replacements-if-required was as much as the price of a new one.

(Inkjet printers seem to operate on this principal too.)

To the recycle dump again!

We got a third new one (which BTW is still running just fine, because it's been downgraded to Extra, read on), totalled up what we'd spent on ordinary microwaves, said a few well-chosen words about planned obsolescence and the "Vimes 'Boots' Theory of Economic Inequality" and got ourselves a pre-pay credit card whose top-ups were dedicated to Get A Combi Again.

We didn't bother with GACA baseball caps.

That would have been silly.

I don't know if these cards exist in the USA; we treat them as the modern version of a piggy-bank...

...except that to get at the money you need two people acting in accord.

*****

And in 2021 we got one.

Okay, this next bit is going to read like an ad.

It isn't, because the appliance is discontinued. (Whirlpool FINALLY do something similar but not identical.) It's just enthusiastic users discovering there's even more to a gadget than expected.

*****

The New One even bigger than the old one, which had 28 litres capacity; the new one was 33 L (was .99 ft³, is now 1.16 ft³). In non-tech terms, wow, More Room To Cook In.

Reading the figures was no help (to me, anyway) in visualising what a maw the thing had, but opening the door did that and no mistake.

I said something to DD about "bite radius"...

...and she instantly responded with "anyway, we delivered the bomb".

We're a quotesy household. ;->

BTW, The New One does a very good job on seafood, too...

*****

Since we got this, almost exactly two years ago, we've used it from reheating tea to roasting meat to making chilli / goulash / stew / curry (you can run the oven / grill separately or add simultaneous zaps of microwave for much less cooking time) to baking bread.

One of the best things about it is that when the set cooking time is done, the appliance switches off automatically. No risk of busyness, absent-mindedness or out-in-the-garden-ness ending in clouds of smoke, ruined food and possibly even worse.

As for breadmaking, it has a dough-rise setting which is a Time Machine, reducing a two-hour "doubled in size" rise time to about 35-45 minutes...

It also has the most reliable Defrost Butter setting either of us have ever encountered, turning a rock-solid butter brick from the freezer into something spreadable while never - to date - doing the "never mind a butter-knife, give me a spoon or a paintbrush" thing.

*****

However...

There's also a "Chef Setting" where there are some simple recipes. Here's the pastry page.

Basically, you assemble and mix the ingredients, input the correct settings and the machine does all the timing, heating and cooking.

We'd never used this until yesterday, when DD said, "Let's try the sponge cake..."

Yes, this post was entitled "Microwave Sponge Cake (eventually)..." and here we are...

We did all the measuring correctly and checked it by pouring the mixture into a baking container while on the scale, wondering betimes why the recipe says 900g, the ingredients total 925 and what actually poured into the container reads 906... Weird. Really weird.

Then we put the container into the oven, entered the correct code, and let things do what they were going to do.

A little later we discovered something else about the recipe besides a weight anomaly.

It didn't mention the required size of the container. Or or how much the mixture was likely to rise.

It rose...

Let's say more than we expected...

The fluted ceramic container used for baking this one makes it look like a Vesuvius cupcake; not quite a pyroclastic flow, but a lot of flow regardless.

Once it cooled we separated the sponge-cake from the escaped sponge in the same way as sculptors work with wood or marble - "Chip away everything that doesn't look like a cake" - and found that despite its misshapen looks, it tasted pretty good.

So today DD made another, this time using a larger container.

...and this time it stayed put until removed using the cunning base-and-lifting-straps of baking parchment.

It's not the loftiest or best-risen sponge cake either of us have ever seen (a smaller-diameter higher-sided container would probably deal with that) BUT if there's something needing sponge cake in a hurry - this went from cupboard ingredients to done and cooling in less than 55 minutes - that treatment seems to fit the bill.

We're now wondering what other secrets lurk in the simple recipe pages; falafel, quiche Lorraine, stuffed peppers, even Flammkuchen* from scratch.

(*Though I have my own views about Flammkuchen, mostly involving a plane flight...)

And we'll be paying a lot more attention to what size of dish we put them in. :->

[iichaeyj]

TOMORROW'S ESCAPE

marriage or death

the sun had set a while ago and the moon shone above you as you walked back to your home with sunghoon. after a long day of walking, eating, and hanging out with him, he seemed much more docile compared to your most recent interactions with him. as you glanced over at him, admiring his side profile, you couldn't help but feel as though today was a success in terms of getting closer to him.

"you didn't have to walk me home, you know," you tell him as you two walk up the sidewalk. you kick the stones on the ground as you walk, still unable to process this entire day and the time you've spent with your bias.

"i wanted to," he replies calmly. "and like I said, i live close by," he adds, shrugging casually. he turns his head, biting back a smile before looking back forward with a calm demeanor.

"how close do you live anyway?" you ask curiously, glancing up at the taller figure next to you.

he looks around awkwardly, shrugging while gesturing vaguely toward random directions. "just nearby," he says, clearing his throat.

you nod in response, unsure of how to respond to his short statement. to you, it seemed as though he didn't have much interest in talking or laughing or anything at all. even through the day when you two walked around the park nearby and got food together, he always looked around or turned around to mutter something to himself. in all, getting close to him was harder than expected despite the progress that was made.

"the photobooth we went to was a lot of fun," you tell him, smiling at him as you refer to the pictures you two took together in the tiny photobooth by the park.

"yeah, it was. i've never really been done that before, so it was nice," he tells you, giving you a small smile before he looks away again.

if you weren't on an insane mission to save him, you might've fainted from the sight of his smile.

and as you two approach your home, signaling that the day is about to come to an end, you try and figure out what to say. could you invite him out again? would he find it weird for you to be so eager? but then again, you have no clue as to how this will all work out and what will happen in the future. for all you know, the future could be changed for the worse if you didn't act soon.

pulling you out of your thoughts, sunghoon clears his throat as he stands in front of you. "i actually have something to tell you before you go," he tells you.

"what is it?" you ask curiously.

you look up at him, waiting patiently as he clears his throat once again and looks around awkwardly. his hands are tucked into his pockets as he looks down at you, standing straight as he meets your gaze.

however, before he can respond, you suddenly hear the sound of somebody walking up from behind you.

"hey! sunghoon, right?" a voice chimes in, catching sunghoon visibly off guard.

as you turn around, you're met with the sight of jay, aka jongseong park and your first crush, casually walking up to you two. he smiles casually at sunghoon, giving him a curt nod. "i thought i recognized you. you're jake's friend, right?" jay asks sunghoon. jay smiles calmly at him, completely unfazed by sunghoon's gaze hardening at the sight of him.

before sunghoon can respond, jay's eyes shift down to meet yours. he blinks in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "oh hey, y/n," he adds, clearly surprised to see you there.

"why are you here, jay?" sunghoon asks him, subtly looking jay over.

"just taking a walk," jay shrugs, either unaware or ignoring sunghoon's pointed looks thrown in his direction. "but i didn't think i'd see you here," jay adds, looking over at you again.

"i live here," you deadpan, giving him a weird look.

jay smiles at your reply, now clearly more interested in you than sunghoon. "no need to be so hostile," jay chuckles, tilting his head as he looks you over. "i thought i was the 'peanut butter to your yummy jelly,'" he quotes, reciting your love letter.

you flush in embarrassment, your cheeks burning red. you cursed out your younger self, wishing that you could've been sent back in time a few days earlier so that you could avoid the embarrassment. seeing your reaction, jay chuckles and reaches out to ruffle your hair.

however, you suddenly feel yourself being pulled back and placed behind a taller figure.

"can't you see that she's uncomfortable?" sunghoon asks, frowning as he stands face-to-face with jay. sunghoon straightens up slightly, looking down at jay as he meets his gaze confidently.

jay watches sunghoon curiously, observing him and his reaction as he pulls his hand back. "it was just a joke, park," jay shrugs casually, intrigued by sunghoon's strong reaction.

"save those jokes for someone else, then. we're busy," sunghoon snaps back, his lips curling down into a frown.

"didn't know you two were a 'we,'" jay snorts, rolling his eyes as his smile turns even bigger in amusement at this unexpected situation. he shrugs and turns around, beginning to walk away. "whatever! have fun, you two," jay calls out before he disappears down the street without glancing back.

sunghoon turns back to you, concern evident in his gaze. "are you alright?" he asks you, holding onto your upper arms as he tries to comfort you in whatever way he can.

you nod, unable to tell him that you were feeling more embarrassment from your past self's actions rather than jay himself. in this moment, all you could really see was sunghoon. and if you even tried to think too long about sunghoon's hands on your arms, you might faint from heat exhaustion. "yeah, i'm alright," you tell him, fanning your warm cheeks as you try and stop the redness that's spread all over your face.

mistaking your embarrassment as shame and sadness, sunghoon only holds onto you tighter as he rubs your arm to soothe you. despite your best efforts throughout the day, it was you looking vulnerable that seemed to have the most effect on him.

deciding to take advantage of this current situation, your mind suddenly focuses on your plan. "thanks for being such a good friend," you tell him suddenly, appearing pitiful as you gently touch his hand on your arm.

sunghoon freezes in place, looking at you with wide eyes. he clears his throat, thrown off by both your words and your touch. "friends?" he questions, almost in disbelief.

"we can be friends now, right? surely, you won't mind after all i've been through today," you sigh dramatically, pretending to look off into the street that jay went down.

sunghoon nods, albeit hesitantly. "yeah, friends," he says, his face stiff as he pats your arm in an awkward motion.

"great!" you say cheerily, feeling accomplished as you smile brightly at him. "thanks for hanging out today, it was a lot of fun," you tell him, already making your way to the door of your home. however, before you can go in, you suddenly turn around and look towards him. "oh but before i forget, what did you wanna tell me earlier?" you ask him curiously.

"it's nothing," sunghoon tells you quickly, running his hand through his hair. "good night," he says, giving you a small smile before he runs down the alleyway whilst trying to hide his ears that are burning red.

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A/N: decided to get rid of the views thing bc they're annoying and have no purpose 🥲💔 also this is cheesy ik but idc i love romance

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

01/25/2024 OFMD Recap

TLDR; Cast & Crew Sightings; Queerties; How to Help; New Renewal Effort Resources; stats; gifs; petition status; morale boost ; self care pitstop; love notes; Rhys

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

While not related to OFMD-- Leslie Jones has been nominated for Outstanding Performance Award from @naacp for "After the Cut" on The Daily Show! Just something to celebrate for our crew!

Nathan Foad, Samba Schutte, and Con O'Neill are obviously excited about OFMD coming to the UK! All seen on their instagram stories.

Next, Kristian Nairn answered some fans on the #WeeJohnDays Coming back. You can add to the thread here if you'd like.

== Queerties ==

If you're down, please vote for the Queerties each day! If you want to just vote for OFMD categories, feel free to visit: TV Comedy Best TV Performance

== How To Help ==

How To Help Save OFMD Task List - US How to Help Save OFMD Task List - Outside US

= New Renewal Campaign Resources =

Found some cool resources today if you're out campaigning on any of the platforms, feel free to use these, they're all tagged with sources. (These have been added to the Daily Recap Task Lists)

== Stats ==

Srcs (in order of appearance LTR): @lucyrosebutler , @bonnypitty @meowzawowza_ on Twitter

== Gif Resources ==

Our lovely @kiwistede made some gorgeous gifs that you can use on social media when you're @ing the networks.

==UK News==

@lamentus1 Gave us a brief update on the happenings in the UK:

Not much to report today, I’ve just been focused on promoting the show off the back of the UK talent, hoping to enlist new fans now that we have a date for season 2 on the BBC. The Guardian article was great, despite ending on a somewhat pessimistic note. It links to the petition though, which is amazing! The Guardian Article

==Articles==

We made it into the guardian! Holy Crap!

‘Unhinged – in a good way’: Our Flag Means Death was cancelled. Its fans are fighting back"

As @lamentus1 mentioned, yes, the last quote in it is very pessimistic, however I don't think that's the part we should focus on, instead we should focus on the fact the campaign got big enough to warrant getting picked up by The Guardian AND our petition was linked in it. Think of how many new folks will be clicking in?

The 20 best feel-good TV shows

Our Flag Means Death Season 2 Finally Confirms UK Release Date

‘Our Flag Means Death’ Season 2: Fans Petition To Save Beloved HBO Show (this last one has a weird date at the end, which @OFMDBingo42 on Twitter speculates coincides with the end of the Social Media Strike for Palestine, just fyi it was confusing many of us).

==Petition Status ==

Almost at 81K!

== Morale Boosts ==

Feeling low cause things have slowed down? A lot of crew have brought up some excellent points across the platforms as to why things aren't as down as they feel right now. Please check out: @PehmoKoira's Take on Tumblr

== Self Care Pitstop! ==

If you are feeling overwhelmed-- stop by @flowelineblog's post! It's quick, and efficient :)

== Love Notes ==

So while looking for cast and crew sightings I found this lovely message on @VicoOrtiz's IG Story, so I'm going to share it instead tonight by @thebehappyproject.

==========================================

Our Rhys picture tonight is courtesy of @rhysdarbinizedarby via a post about "The Jaquie Brown Diaries": Night on the Brown (2009)"

I couldn't get over the look, so now you have to see it. It's literally haunting my dreams and I haven't even fallen asleep yet.

Anyway, night lovelies, hope you all have a great day/night <3 Stay safe, hydrated, and keep being the ever wonderful yous <3