#it was supposed to be a short shift today. quick and easy

[tampon-on-the-sidewalk]

A word to anyone considering leaving their job for whatever reason:

Give two weeks notice AND work the last of your scheduled shifts.

Not only does it make you look better to other potential job offers (you see things through to the end as opposed to dropping prior obligation, ie previously scheduled shifts)

But it makes it so much better for your coworkers, who otherwise would have to work themselves to the bone just to make it through the day.

Sure, fuck corporate. Fuck your managers. Fuck your customers, even, if they ain’t treating you right. But please respect the others who absolutely can’t handle being a person short when hours are already spread so thin.

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

[ssahotchnerr]

could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?

something special

<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining

"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.

"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."

about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.

you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.

when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.

"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"

"since always." jack grinned proudly.

"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"

"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.

a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.

"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"

jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."

"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.

"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."

there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.

"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."

"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.

just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.

in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.

it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.

again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.

"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."

aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.

jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"

"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."

[pers1st]

can't quit you - alexia putellas x reader

pairing: alexia putellas x reader

warnings: bit suggestive, angst but happy ending

Taking a quick breath in after sleepily glancing at your phone to check the time, you shoot up in the bed that is not yours, next to the body that is not your dog's, whipping around. Your head drops as you get ever so dizzy, and you hit the nightstand next to the bed with a loud bang.

"Ow", you wince, holding your forehead tightly and pressing against it, as if that would help your pain in any way.

"Joder", a soft voice mumbles next to you as you push the covers back, revealing your still naked body. Usually, it would be dark when you left Alexia's bed, but by now, the sun had risen and you were late.

Fuck.

"Get up", you instruct her as you crawl out of the warmth of the bed, hastily gathering the clothes you'd left on the floor last night.

"Ale, we have training." The blonde is still laying in bed, the duvet cover all the way up to her nose as she shields herself in comfortability. She doesn't react to your words.

"Ale, we're late", you huff as you pull your sweatpants on. At that, the seemingly unconscious body shoots up, banging her head the same way you had.

"¡Joder!", she curses as she mimics your actions.

It's been two months since you last spent a night in Alexia's bed. Your relationship was a long and stable one, and when you broke the news to your teammates, every single one of them was shocked.

You and Alexia, however, weren't. Despite the two years you called yourself her girlfriend, the both of you agreed that it was time to call it quits. Time to go back to being friends. You let yourself become too comfortable, and, along with it - clingy. The two of you could never be apart, and you both know that it wasn't beneficial for you or Alexia individually.

Still, you know that, no matter what happened, you can always count on Alexia, and so the breakup felt less like a stop in your relationship and more like a shift. That's how you found yourself in her bed after a team night out, and then, just a month ago, the two of you silently agreed that whatever this was - it was okay. You had, after all, agreed to remain friends (with benefits, it seemed).

But the golden rule of it all seems to be that you don't stay over. You and Alexia agreed to spend time apart, to be on your own, and although it included late night calls and (sometimes drunken) hookups, you didn't sleep over anymore. You didn't wake up in her arms anymore. Until today.

"Ale, I don't have any training clothes", you sigh, the realization dawning on you that of course, you didn't pack an overnight bag. Why would you? You never stay over.

"So? Wear mine", Alexia shrugs, throwing a pair of shorts into your face. You duck away quickly and watch as the fabric gets caught on the lamp.

"Yeah, sure", you chuckle.

"You go to training, I'll be there once I've driven by my house."

"But that'll mean more extra laps, no? Just wear mine", Alexia huffs, seemingly unbothered by your problem. It's, however, not as easy as it used to be.

"I can't, Ale. We're not together anymore, we don't share clothes, we don't fucking fall asleep together!"

You didn't notice your voice raised until Alexia raises her eyebrows at you, wincing ever so slightly.

With her still looking at you like a deer caught in headlights, you grab your keys from her wardrobe and leave her behind, not caring to say goodbye.

Your ex-girlfriend confuses you. How does she not see the problem? How does she not see the gravity that comes with the night you spent at her flat? How does she not understand the problems this causes?

You huff in annoyance as you walk towards your car, knowing that you'll be running laps for a good half-hour after training, seeing as officially, you were supposed to be there five minutes ago. With the extra ten minutes it took to go home, and the fifteen minute drive to the training grounds, you know that Jona will have a very stern talk to you. The only hope you can cling onto is that Alexia is already there, and the fact that no one notices how weird it is for the both of you to be late on the same day, when you usually never are.

Jona's words are harsh, but they are nothing you can't handle. Alexia already finished her laps during training, it seems, as she is not with you while you round the pitch over and over again. With only two laps left, you speed up slightly, not noticing the figure sat on the bench before you finally come to a stop, reaching for your water bottle.

Keira raises her eyebrows at you silently as you take greedy gulps. It's not a particularly warm day, but the sun is beaming down on the pitch as if it is Summer and the excessive running left you dry.

"What happened? You're never late."

You know by her tone that she is hinting at something, but you shrug as the two of you begin walking towards the building.

"My alarm didn't go."

It's a lie. You didn't even set an alarm, with how exhausted you had been last night. Keira wants to say something else, you can sense it in the way she keeps looking at you and then back down, but you don't urge her to, because you don't want to hear it. You don't want to hear anything, really. You didn't speak a single word to Alexia during training, dodging her every time you were asked to partner up and not cheering her on the way you usually did.

Even now, as you joined Keira for lunch in the cafeteria after a quick shower, you lead your friend to the table furthest in the back, away from everyone else. She doesn't mind, though, instead yapping to you about everything and nothing. Aitana joins you halfway through your meal, and you quickly become the third wheel, though you can't exactly complain. Your head is dangerously close to exploding, with the speed that thoughts are racing through your head.

Maybe sleeping with Alexia after the breakup has been a bad idea. After all, you split because it seemed impossible to spend time away from each other. With the excuse of remaining "friends", you still partnered with her every time, made conversation with her about everything and nothing, ended up in her bed every evening just to escape mere minutes later and pretend nothing happened. It's a vicious cycle, and it needs to stop. And that realization is what's bothering you the most. The fact that you need to stop. The fact that you actually need to be apart from the woman you still love so dearly.

You don't notice Keira and Aitana already left until a new body appears in front of you. Glancing up, you find the one person you didn't wanted to see.

"Estas bien?", she asks, looking down at your full plate. Feeling nauseous all of a sudden, you declare your lunch finished and throw your wet hair over your shoulder.

"Sí", you mumble as you rise from your seat, beginning to walk to the tray of dirty dishes.

"Estas segura?"

"Sí, Ale", you huff, reaching around her to discard your plate.

"Okay", Alexia shrugs. "Are you coming over tonight?"

You shake your head, looking at her with a stare that, admittedly, she doesn't deserve. Alexia isn't the catalyst of this problem, anyways. It was the both of you who made this decision, silently agreeing on a plan that now seemed so foolish. How did you expect to spend every night with her, not allowing yourself to be embraced by her warmth and love, and not fall for her all over again? Alexia agreed to the breakup. She is okay with the two of you not being together again. So, why the hell aren't you?

"No, I can't tonight", you reply, though it is a total lie. You don't have plans at night, ever, because you always know where you'll be. Where you would have been. If the two of you were still together.

"Okay", Alexia says, though it sounds more like a question. You can't seem to stand in her presence for another second, as you bid her a quick, cold-hearted goodbye only to sprint away from the cafeteria and to the locker room to gather your bags and speed home.

Alexia and you agreed. You need to be alone. And you need to practice it, now that you can't drag yourself into her arms again. There is no space for you anymore.

You can't seem to sleep on your own. Before, you were so worn out from Alexia's persistence to wreck you in every possible, leaving you in a sleep so deep the only thing to get you to stir was your shrieking alarm. Now, though, you fall into bed with a thousand thoughts rummaging through your head, and you lie awake for hours, watching the sun set, watching the sun rise, all while tossing and turning around, desperate to find rest.

It's not difficult for the team to catch on. You sweat off every bit of concealer meant to hide the shadows beneath your eyes, and your movements are slow - hazy, almost. Your performance is average, at most, and no one had ever seen you perform averagely.

Alexia notices too - at least you hope, because there is no way she can just forget about you, is there? She watches you curiously, but she never says a word about your piss poor sprints, your late passes or weak shots.

Even Jona seems hesitant to say something - and that is what you're left with. Everyone looking, no one asking. Everyone noticing, no one checking. The whole situation is beginning to drive you insane - Alexia is starting to drive you insane. Though she is not the culprit of this, you can't help but feel your heart wither away every time you look at her and feel just a little bit of anger. This isn't how you want to feel about the woman you loved for such a long time.

It takes you exactly a week to end up in her bed again. Alexia doesn't ask why you are behaving the way you are, and she doesn't react to your hesitation to come over to hers again, which makes you crave her even more. You're a bit like a child, when it comes to these things. You always seem to want what you can't have, to want what doesn't want you. Her head just peeks up from between your thighs as you lean back into her cushions, eyes hazy and head spinning. Alexia is so, so good to you. The anger is long forgotten, at this point.

"Estas bien?", she asks the way she always does, and it causes you to chuckle.

"Sí, Ale. Muy bien", you huff, as she lays down next to you gently, her own body covered in beads of sweat. You push yourself up from the mattress with the last bit of strength you have left, gently straddling her lap as you lean down to capture her lips in another kiss. Realistically, you are worn out, at this point. You've been in Alexia's bed for hours, and the both of you are likely satisfied. But it is so hard to leave.

She chuckles into your lips, intertwining the both of your hands with hers as you finally steal another kiss from her.

This- it felt oddly domestic. There was a softness in her eyes that you haven't seen- or potentially just not noticed, since the two of you broke up. It makes you stop in your tracks.

"What's wrong?", she asks as you lean back on her lap, looking at this glint in her eyes that completely captures you. You can't describe it, but this feels so right- being here, in her bed, being on top of her, laughing, kissing, sharing intimacy, the look in her eyes as she gazes at your every inch, that it feels entirely wrong. These moments are over. Your relationship is over. You have to remind yourself, again and again.

"I should go", you huff silently, pressing one last kiss to her lips before climbing off of her. You almost whimper at the loss of contact, but you rise to your feet anyways, searching for your clothes on her wooden floor.

"You could stay." Alexia sits up, patting the spot next to her as she looks at you, following your every movement with her eyes.

"No, Ale. I should go", you remind her, and remind yourself, and pull your hoodie over your head.

"I'll see you tomorrow?", you ask, though it is a given. The two of you always see each other at training.

"Will you partner with me for passing?", she asks back, a chuckle on her lips.

"Why? Miss me already?"

You only catch the meaning of what you said by the time you are in her hallway, and you pull the door of her apartment close a little harsher than expected. Alexia doesn't miss you. The both of you know it.

It seems like a vicious cycle that the two of you are caught in. Every time you decide to put some distance between the two of you, it leaves you craving her even more. It almost feels like an addiction you are so badly trying to break, but you relapse every time, soaking in every second you can spend in her arms. You go over to hers a few times, indulging the attention she gives every inch of you, and then you leave her high and dry, the wall between you rising again as you dodge her during training and outside of it.

Just last night, you were in Alexia's arms, letting her take care of you the way she always does, letting her kiss every inch of you until there was nothing left and the two of you were breathless.

Today, you didn't speak a single word to her.

Unable to stand the silence in your apartment, you asked Keira to join you for dinner at home, after texting Alexia that you couldn't come tonight.

Alexia, obviously, doesn't seem to believe you as she knocks on your door furiously, all the while Taylor Swift is echoing off the walls of your kitchen quietly, with Keira sitting on the countertop, stirring the pasta every now and then. It is dark in Barcelona already, and just twenty four hours ago, you were with Alexia. Still, she is the last thing you expect when you open the door.

She is dressed in sweats, but she still looks so good. It takes you a second to actually recognize her presence.

"Alexia, I have-"

a guest.

That's what you intended to say, but the woman pushed past you already, barging through your apartment.

"We need to have a talk", she declares as she strides through your hallway. You only manage to catch up to her by the time she has noticed Keira, who looks between the two of you questioningly.

"You, out!", Alexia points to the door as Keira shakes her head, a grin on her face.

"But we haven't had dinner yet!", she protests with a chuckle, but at seeing Alexia's stern face, which isn't kidding in the least, she looks at you, pleadingly.

You shrug. No one disagrees with Alexia.

"Wow, just kicking me out? I'm hungry, you were supposed to feed me! I can't believe this", she mumbles as she pushes herself off the countertop, shaking her head in disbelief as she walks past you.

"I hope your food burns!", she yells from the hallway when Alexia sits down on the couch and you go to turn the stove off. The door crashes closed with a loud bang.

"That wasn't nice", you point out to your ex-girlfriend. Alexia is strict when it comes to football, but outside of the sport, outside of the captain-responsibility, she is the sweetest teammate, friend, girlfriend. Her behavior towards Keira makes you sense the gravity of whichever conversation she is going to have with you, and it makes anxiety tingle in your stomach.

"Sit with me", she orders, though it sounds more like a question when she looks at you and you can see the slightest bit of doubt in her eyes. Along with that softness. That glint.

You are next to her within seconds.

"Y/N, I need to know. If we are friends or not- I can't do this hot and cold", she starts, and the vulnerability in her voice makes you shudder. You didn't know that this affected her at all, she never voiced any complaints, but the way she looks at you makes you realize that this whole situation had nagged her more than she admitted.

"Why did you agree to this- whatever, if you don't want it?", you ask, not knowing how else to describe the situation, curious to know what she is asking of you. Does she not want you to come over anymore? Does she want you to be over every night?

"Because I can't..."

You allow her the time to search for whatever word she is looking for, knowing that she always struggled with English.

"Quit you. I can't quit you, and seeing you, holding you, if you are in my bed I can convince myself that this isn't real, that we didn't break up", she mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for you to hear. She spins your head.

She agreed to the breakup. She agreed that it would be best for the both of you when you first opened the conversation of how dependent you felt on her. In truth, the realization of how much you love Alexia had only hit you when every footballer had suddenly gotten engaged, and you realized that all you wanted was to marry Alexia. The thought was scary, and it sent you into a rabbit hole for a bit, wondering silently whatever you were going to do with yourself when Alexia decided that this relationship just didn't work anymore. Now, as you look at her, you realize that it's foolish. Calling dibs on the breakup was your worst idea yet. But Alexia agreed.

"But you- you agreed, when I broke up with you. You wanted the breakup", you look at her with a questioning gaze, lingering on the freckles on her cheeks.

"Because I don't want to hold you back, amor. If breaking up with me is what you need then I'll try to survive, somehow. But that doesn't mean I want it."

At that, you throw yourself into Alexia's arms. How have you been so stupid? How have you hurt the one and only person you have ever, truly loved, just because you were scared?

You sense Alexia's hesitancy, but after a few seconds, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you even deeper into her chest. You can feel her heartbeat, and smell her perfume, and it makes you question how you have survived the past months without being hers. Her arms feel so familiar, so comforting, that you crave nothing more than to be here - in her embrace - forever.

"I only broke up with you because I was scared. I was so scared of you ever leaving me, and-"

Alexia interrupts you.

"I could never. I could never quit you, amor. You are stuck with me forever", she mumbles into your hair as she gently rocks the two of you from side to side, her arms never loosening around you. You chuckle at her choice of words, though you do admit it is somewhat fitting.

"You'll never quit me?", you ask, a slight smile on your lips as you pull back slightly. At that, she only tightens her arms around you.

"Never. I will never quit you."

notes: this is literally horrible

[serafilms]

song 35! candy (nct dream) + nishimura riki (spotify wrapped event)

honestly, today's the day, i’m gonna break up with you, i’m going to go see you, hope you'll understand

closest to a happy niki fic we’ll get i guess 😢 but happy birthday to the coolest guy on the planet (a year younger than me and still eating up my whole life’s achievements in one fancam) 🥳 requested by @sammm5225

“I love you.”

Riki freezes. What. Why did I say that? Did I just say that?

He did, in fact, just say that, and his face flushes as yours does too.

“W-what?”

Well, he has to commit to it now. “I love you,” he repeats.

Your cheeks redden even further and he can’t help but feel his stomach flutter. “I love you too,” you say, and Riki knows he’s absolutely fucked.

Because there’s no way he just said that, not now, not the day when he was supposed to break up with you.

Nishimura Riki woke up this morning with a warm feeling in his chest. He felt different today. The sun was shining on his face and the air was crisp and he felt light as his feet touched down on the floor. It was a good day, as good a day as any, but something was different about it. He checked his phone and saw a text from you.

Y/N: hii are we still on for today??

Right. Your date at the park today. He felt a twinge of guilt. He totally forgot about that, if he was being honest. He realised now that he’s barely even thought of you the last few days. Was that why you were asking?

Part of him wanted to cancel, because at that moment, Riki just didn’t really want to be around you. Not that he dislikes you, but he thought he’d rather stay home and just chill while watching a movie, or go to the dance studio or play football with his friends.

Riki looked at himself in the mirror in his room. His eyes shifted to the polaroid stuck in the top left corner. It was a photo of the two of you. You’re both smiling and you have a peace sign up next to your face, while his arm is looped around you and his hand is pinching your cheek on the other side.

He smiled at it with some fondness, but even that wasn’t enough to stir his heart. Nishimura Riki is not the type to make impulse decisions. But he does like to base them off of the logistics, and the fact was that he didn’t think he felt anything for you anymore. He still cared about you for sure, and he hoped that you’d still talk sometimes, but the jig was up. The expiration date on your relationship had passed and he thought that today might be the day to throw it away.

He picked up his phone and sent a quick affirmative text. Short and sweet, but not enough to make you think he was super excited for it. Because he was not excited, of course! What kind of psycho would be excited to break up with someone?

“But it is a beautiful day,” he admitted to himself as he walked down the street. The park wasn’t too far from his house, and he wanted to enjoy the time to himself on this lovely walk. Then, as he walked under the shade of a tree, something dropped right in front of him. He looked down and saw a tiny puddle of white and green liquid, right in front of his shoe. Bird poop. Riki stared down in disbelief. Well, thank god it didn’t land on him. They say this is good luck anyway, or something like that.

He stepped over it with a wrinkled nose and continued to walk down the street with his hands in his jacket pockets. By the time he arrived at the park, he could already make out your figure waiting on a bench. You were wearing a parka and your nice jeans, and your hair was neatly styled, and Riki felt a little bad that you put so much effort in. He’d try and let you down easy, he thought.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Riki, hey!” you greeted him with a pretty smile and stand to meet him. When he approached, he felt a jolt of shock when you grab his hand and lean towards him. Before he could stop you, you’d kissed him square on the mouth. Something tickled at his heart and he blinked in surprise before regaining his composure. Okay, this is fine. You’re fine, Riki. Be normal.

“I- uh, do you wanna go get some ice cream?” he asked. Yes, back on track. He’d get a jump on the gun so once he’d broken up with you, you would already be equipped with some dessert to console you. Maybe that’d soften the blow.

“Sure,” you beamed.

Riki led the way to the ice cream truck. He ordered your favourite for you without thinking, and regretted it instantly when you gave his hand a squeeze and leaned into his side.

“Aw, you two make a cute couple,” said the ice cream vendor as he handed you the ice cream.

“Thank you,” you said back.

Yeah, thanks a lot, ice cream guy, Riki thought bitterly. This was not going to be easy. But he knew what he wanted, and he had to stay strong.

As the two of you made your way to a spot under the tree where you usually sit, he steeled himself. He could totally do this.

His ice cream was left untouched as you both sat on the grass and he looked at you happily eating away. Okay, here goes nothing.

“Hey Y/N? I need to talk to you about something.”

You looked a little surprised at his sombre tone but you nodded anyway. Riki’s heart was beating very fast and he’d starting to panic a little bit. Okay, a lot. God, I’m about to go into cardiac arrest. He could see the headlines now. Nishimura Riki dies of heart failure at 18.

He looked out at the park, the grass green, the sun shining above him. The sky was so clear, so beautiful, and his heart seemed to stop for a moment, almost as if being rebooted before it started back up at a mostly normal pace. Something shifted inside him and he wasn’t sure what it was, but he was turning and looking at you and suddenly you looked like the most beautiful person in the world.

Your eyes were wide and glistening like some sort of anime character and your lips looked so pink and kissable, and now his mouth was opening before he’d even realised it.

“I love you.”

“W-what?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He’s speechless. You’re blushing and he can feel himself doing the same. Well, he messed that up. But it’s okay. He can work with this. Nishimura Riki swears he will never leave your side again. That’s a promise.

once again happy birthday ni-ki ‼️‼️ AND HAPPY CANDY SEASON EVERYONE START LISTENING TO CANDY YOU CAN ONLY STOP ON DEC 31ST 🍬

[buckyarchives]

Metal Arms and Short Skirts | Bucky Barnes [2.]

summary: waltzing in as the new head of the Avenger's medical division, impressing everyone, and... scaring Bucky with your incredibly short skirts. while bucky's having a hard time looking at his arm as anything other than a deadly weapon, you're more than happy to help him.

words: 4.3K

warnings; creepy men (+bucky fending them off) slight body dysphoria on buckys end

author note : HI I KNOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UP LIKE & DAYS AGO... aib came out and ive been hyperfixaed on that and my brother got frostbite so wump wump was at the hospital on chrimis. i have mixed feelings on this chapter, but i hope you enjoy. and im still taking request.

READ ON AO3 | masterlist

Bucky wasn't going to pretend to be completely oblivious and say he wasn't finding every and any excuse to visit you. Whether it be a tear in his muscle or the sound of the metal whizzing sounding off, something bucky would have ignored with absolutely no thought. Bucky maintained a comfortable distance between you two, physically and emotionally, staying at arm's length. But something about today seemed to be different. 

Bucky shifted nervously in his seat, he watched your stride around your lab. You finally got your own area after 2 weeks of staying at the compound. It almost put Tony's lab to shame, it was huge and decked out with technology far too advanced for bucky to even understand. 

Today, You wore a black bustier that seemed to shape your form, thick and sturdy paneling sewn into the shirt, if that is what you can even call it. The neck hung low, low enough to leave very little to the imagination. Bucky practically had to tear his eyes away from your neckline when he first walked into the lab.

Bucky's excuse today was a deep cut on the side of Bucky's flesh bicep. Coming back from a quick and easy mission, but Clint needed to watch his arrows since one slit past bucky’s arm on the way to the actual enemy behind him. Bucky had a sneaky guess it was on purpose. 

You gathered the plaster and made your way back to bucky, footsteps echoing as you walked. A sigh escaped your lips, but bucky only caught a small smile. “You know, bucky. You can't come in here every time you have a small cut.”

“Isn't that what you're being paid for?” bucky snarked back, watching your hands as they gently grabbed at his lower arm. Your touch was always so delicate, like you were going to break him rather than heal. 

“Ha, ha.” you mocked. “I could have been making some ground-breaking discovery or invention before you walked in.”

Bucky's eyebrow quirked up eagerly. “Were you?”

A closed-mouthed hum escaped your lips. Your all too perfect pedicured hand wrapped the white bandage around bucky's arm, he was just watching your face as you worked. Couldn’t– wouldn't tear his eyes away. 

“Not really, just researching some stuff about scarring and skin stuff,” you spoke, dumbing it down for bucky. 

During bucky's visit, he’d always ask about everything, trying to catch up with the technology of the 21st century, or maybe just to hear your voice. He didn't understand half the things you spoke about, though he never mentioned it, but you figured it out soon enough and started to simplify it the best you could.

“Scarring?”

“Helen has some idea about how to better rid of scars.” your hand smoothed against his bicep as you finished, and your touch sent a good burn through him. Giving him a warm smile like you always did when you finished.

Bucky's eyes glanced down to his left shoulder for a moment, the ugly scarring that single-handedly destroyed most of his bodily confidence. The permanent mark of what Hydra did to him as they chopped it off and made him part machine. Bucky scoffed to cover up the obvious self-depreciation in his voice, “need a test subject?”

You flinched at his words, surprised, being taken aback by his response. Only then when you looked him up and down, settling on his clothes shoulder, your face fell and a sympathetic look flashed. It was covered by his tanktop but you knew what was under there, you'd seen the photos, you'd seen him. 

You sat back down on your little rolly stool. “I'm surprised you’d suggest that, based on your history, I'd expect you to not be so keen on being poked and prodded.”

Memories flashed Hydra's methods at tearing his humanity, mind, and body apart, all those experiments. But they quickly subdued, how could bucky think of something so cruel when you stat right in front of him, which in bucky's opinion, is perfection. 

“I think I'd be okay with it if it was you.” bucky said quietly, honestly– a confession even. 

A fond smile rose to your face, one you quickly bit back. Narrow eyes met him when you tilted your head slightly, shying away. “Good to know you trust me.”

“Always.”

“But–” you sighed, “I'm going to have to decline, Bucky. For now, you'll have to live with what your shoulder looks like. Sorry.”

Bucky dramatically groaned, trying to mask the obvious pain and disappointment he actually felt. “You're killing me, doll.”

Your ears warmed at the nickname. Averting your eyes for a moment from shyness. You knew bucky despised the scarring that painted his left shoulder, the one that connected the man to metal. You could only lend him some comfort in the situation, no amount of medical technology right now could completely ease his worries.

“Bucky?”

His head perked up, a hum escaped his lips as he put all his attention on you.

“You wanna see something really cool?” you smirked.

Bucky noticed the slight smirk tugging at your lips, he could only react by biting back a smile of his own. “Sure, doll.”

You leaned down to the hem of your right pant leg, slowly hiking up the baggy jeans that hung low on your waist. Slowly revealing a large and messy scar on your kneecap, nothing as bad as bucky's many scars that littered his body. But something definitely bad happened for you to have that, even fully healed now.

“When I was a kid, I used to skate a lot.” you started, bucky's eyes bouched back up to your face. “I got on a gravel road and fell down and my knee landed right on a huge sharp rock and just logged itself right into my knee.”

You laughed looking back on the memory. “Hurt like hell for 14-year-old me and I had to get so many stitched, it was the worst.” a cheeky smile grew as you spoke through a laugh. “Especially for my dream of becoming a knee model.”

Bucky laughed with you as you dropped your pant leg, sitting back up to look at bucky. Bucky didn't say anything and hung his head low when a silence grew in the lab, only the sound of lab tech whizzing in the background. Bucky mostly just wanted to bask at this moment with you, letting himself enjoy the light-hearted nature of your conversations. The way you and he feel warm inside, lighter than ever.

You smacked your lips as you rose from your seat. Bucky's eyes begrudgingly followed you, “you have to learn to love every part of yourself, despite the bad memories. Because it makes you…”

Stopping in your place, turning to him as your eyes traveled up and down his body, the gesture weirdly didn’t make bucky cringe and crawl into himself the way most gazes did. 

“... you.” you smiled again and bucky felt dizzy. “And I think you're pretty cool.”

You turned away to continue whatever you were doing. Bucky muttered your statement under his breath, loud enough for him to hear it again but quiet enough so you wouldn't.

Bucky rose from his place on the workbench, after many visits he practically claimed this spot. As it sat right in the middle of your lab. Despite everything inside of him wanting to stay near you and soak up your presence. He headed for the door.

“Thanks, doc,” Bucky called out.

“Anytime, bucky. I'll be here when you come in with another excuse to see me,” you spoke coyly. Bucky's eyes widened and warmth crept up to his face. 

He sputters for words to save his pride, stumbling over his poor excuse of an explanation. “Maybe I just wanna see your cool outfits.” bucky's face scrunched up, cringing at his own pathetic words. He wondered what the 40s version of himself would say now, probably something sly and confident that’d knock you off your feet.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Barnes.”

“Bucky.” he corrected, again. But maybe it was just an excuse to linger longer at your door.

You smiled at him and repeated, “bucky.”

“You're going on a date with her.” 

Bucky's eyes widened, his head snapping towards Natasha. “I’m what?”

A frustrated groan leaves Natasha's lips as she shifts in her uncomfy office seat. Half of the Avengers team sat in an office going over a mission coming up, but - like most things - it turned into them talking about anything but that, and successfully annoying the hell out of Steve. 

“I set you up on a date with her.” Natasha spoke, referring to you. “I cannot keep watching you get beat up during missions just so you can see her, so you're going on a date.”

Bucky was dumbfounded, to say the least, lost for words as he stared at the woman in front of him. “Why would I go on a date with her?”

Over the past week or two, Bucky began to deny his fondness towards you when you interrupted a meeting to talk to Tony, or popped into the common rooms to talk about new tech, or how you practically strutted through the compound like you own the place. 

or when you slowly build up bucky’s confidence without either or you realizing it. 

Always in short skirts, or colorful and dramatic tops, and in heels or boots that echo loudly throughout the halls. Bucky denies the way his eyes drag along your figure, always lingering on your face longer than he needs to, the way if you look close enough, Bucky's eyes light up a little when you enter the room. Bucky denies it, but he can't fake it.

And Natasha clocked that quickly. 

“the way you look at her tells me you want to,” Natasha spoke coyly. She always read bucky better than anyone else in the room— similar background and all. a defeated groan comes from bucky in return, followed by a slightly pouted lip. Natasha gives him a friendly slap on the shoulder

A scoff was heard from the other side of the table. “Is the cyborg cable of feelings?” Tony snarked, his head down looking at a sheet of paper. Chewing slightly at a pen. 

“Ha. ha. Very funny.” Bucky mocked. “How do you even know she wants to go on a date with me? I can’t imagine she agreed to this?”

self-consciousness slowly crept up bucky's spine, he can’t face rejection if he denies, denies, and denies.

Natasha went to speak but Tony Stark does what he does best and interrupts her. With a hefty laugh coming up from his chest, he dropped the pen and papers down on the table. Leaning forward to face bucky. “Are you kidding me? You’re like a wet dream to her, always injured and part robot. Hits all of her boxes''

“I'm surprised she hasn’t mounted yo-”

“Okay Tony, I think that's enough talking.” Steve interrupted before he could finish his sentence. Tony’s comment earned a choked laugh from both Natasha and Sam.

“Anyways.” Natasha continued. “I know because she already agreed to it. Everything is already set up.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, hoping his hair covers his growing red ears. Steve spoke up, “Just give it a chance buck. You might enjoy it.” oh steve, hopeful as ever.

“I’m sure you'll enjoy it, it’s very much your style,” Natasha spoke, her infamous smirk growing on her face. 

“That scares me.” 

*****

Turns out Natasha was right, it is very much Bucky's style. Natasha had planned (with the help of Steve, because of-fucking-course) a date at a fancy, old-style diner, and every Saturday night they clear the floor and play some old music for some swing dancing. Just bucky’s style, he knows this was Steve’s idea. more than sure after years of watching plenty of girls swoon over Bucky with just one twirl and one short dance, Steve would think this is right up his alley. And it was.

Now Bucky stands outside a busy and bustling diner, upbeat 40s music echoing to the streets. Flowers in hand and a nice black collared shirt under a vintage jacket (it was from the museum and Steve name-dropped at least 12 times to get it back), waiting patiently for you to arrive. Bucky fiddled with his hands a little, his eyes kept darting to his watch— is he too early? When are you arriving? Bucky’s now convinced you wouldn’t show up. Because who would honestly want to go on a date with h–

“James!” a cheery voice broke through his very self-deprecating thoughts. Bucky turned around and swore his heart stopped beating, just for it to speed up even faster when his sights landed on you.

You wore the same boots that caught Wanda's eyes in the common room that quiet day. His eyes followed up your legs, past your thighs as he saw the dress you wore. It was stripped and sparkly, bucky would see the shine from down the street. It felt like you wore the entire rainbow and more as every stripe was painted differently. It was sleeveless and high-necked. And of course, very short.

An excited smile greeted him as you waved your hand. Your pace sped up as Bucky met you, he wondered how you didn't trip in those high heels constantly.

 “Hi,” Bucky said, wanting to hit himself for how awkward he sounded. 

“Sorry for being late, I didn't mean to make you wait.” you stood before him, and he noticed your makeup. You painted your lips with a darker shade than usual and you had little shiny gems glued around your eyes. 

“Don’t worry about it, I just got here too,” Bucky spoke softly, bringing the flowers up to you. “For you.”

Your eyes instantly lit up at the sight, taking the bouquet from him “thank you! you didn't need to get these for me, James.”

 Bucky's heart fluttered slightly at the name, it was rare for people to use his first name nowadays. You brought the flowers to your nose, smelling them with a blissful look on your face. Laughing to yourself.

“What's so funny?” the super-soldier asked.

“Oh no, it’s nothing.” you looked back down at the flower. “I don’t think anyone has ever gotten me flowers before.”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, “really?”

“Mhmm.” you rocked back and forth on your heels, “thank you for being the first.”

You smiled warmly up at Bucky as you did so often, but the aura of everything made it so much more this time.

“Let's head in?” Bucky cocked his head towards the diner. 

Nodding, “yes, please.” you threaded along, catching Bucky off guard when you swiftly grabbed ahold of his hand. Your fingers wrapped around his flesh hand, the warmth made Bucky feel funny in his stomach. Yeah, Bucky might have a crush on you.

You lead him into the diner, confident in your walk like usual. Your eyes spotted an empty seat and the both of you settled yourselves in a booth. You make quick eye contact and Bucky's mouth gaped like he's going to say something but is stopped when the waiter comes up. The waiter looks like she blends in with the scenery, with pinned-up hair and a bright red lip. She asks for your order and you both get water, and a milkshake. 

“I can imagine why Natasha picked this place out of everything,” you say, eyes off into the distance, Bucky follows your gaze and sees the dance floor of people together with large smiles. “Though, I don't know how to dance.”

Bucky's lip quirks up slightly, “I can teach you.”

“Perfect, let’s go then.” your smile widely, and your already getting up, standing next to bucky's seat and holding a hand out. Bucky’s surprised by your sudden willingness but despite the nervousness in his stomach - he takes your hand. 

Bucky may have been nervous standing outside the diner. May have been nervous as he greeted and met you outside. May have been nervous as you led him inside and watched you from across the table. But once he stepped out onto the swing floor, the soft sound of 40s music playing in the background. The sweet-talking James Buchanan – that seemed to flirt with every girl that met him – came back from the dead, and he had his arm around your waist in no time.

You noticed the sudden confidence and glint in his eyes suddenly, reaching up to grab his neck. Bucky held you at your waist, then he noticed the gold chain hung around your hips. His fingers grazed over them for a moment before they rested at the smallest part of your waist.

Your wide eyes met his and bucky swore for a moment, he couldn't breathe. “How was the mission?”

A groan escaped Bucky's mouth, playfully he rolled his eyes. Trying to sound annoyed, but his smile said otherwise. “Oh god, I don't wanna talk about work.”

Bucky’s hands stayed planted on your waist. You smiled as you continued to sway together along to the soft jazz in the background. You tugged nervously at your lip, “you know, I was getting worried when I heard you guys weren’t getting back on time.”

“You worry about me?” Bucky was stunned, an unfamiliar warmth shot through him as you averted your gaze. He took one hand to pull at your chin, so you were looking at him. Your mouth gaped open for a moment and your brain studdered before you just shrugged in response, a slight nod.

The familiar sound of the music speeding up, the upbeat sound of Harry James filled Bucky’s ears and for a moment Bucky was in the 40s again with a girl in his arms ready to be shipped out to war. A sentimental smile grew on his face.

“You ready to learn how to dance.” Bucky beamed down at you and before you could even respond, Bucky pushed your body away from him abruptly. Just to grab your hand before you could fall, twirling you around and back close to his chest. 

It all happened so fast and you yelped once your back hit his chest. His arm wrapped across your body and held your hand. You breathed and smiled widely. “I might step on your toes.

“I can handle it, doll.”

******

A few songs later and a couple of toes crushed, followed by a slew of apologies from you. You and Bucky ended up breathing heavily and slightly sweaty from dancing. Bucky swung you around like you weighed nothing - which to him - you probably did. Lots of music ranging from the 40s to 60s played throughout the diner, to which Bucky snarks at the fact he didn’t recognize the songs, always followed by light laughter.

The dancing came to a slow, but you two remained on the floor still. It was getting late and you hadn’t even eaten yet and most couples and groups of friends had gone back to their seats. You swayed comfortably in Bucky's arms still, your head laid on his chest listening to the soft beat of his heartbeat. 

Bucky Barnes is a more than qualified trained assassin with heightened senses. He's very aware of his surroundings at all times, so when he notices the man peering at your thighs and ass, his eyes narrow toward the man. A glimpse of the winter soldier showed, but the creep didn't seem to pay any attention to Bucky's gaze.

Every so politely, Bucky attempted to tug at your dress without it seeming like he was trying to grope you. Also, swiftly and smoothly twirling you around so the man's gaze would be fixed on bucky's broad shoulders. Effectively protecting you from perverted stares as his body towards over you.

You noticed the way Bucky's body stiffened when he spun you, looking up at him once again. “You okay?”

Bucky nodded and gave you a reassuring squeeze around your waist. “Let’s head back? I'm hungry.”

You agreed quickly and grabbed Bucky's hand, pulling him off the dance floor and guiding him back to the table where your two drinks sat warm now. You slid into the booth with a large exhale, sitting across from Bucky. The waiter decked out in 40s apparel and took your orders, your food coming in no time. It was a poor excuse for dinner per se, only ordering fries and cheese curds to simply snack on. 

“You make a good dance partner.” Bucky mutters, mouth muffled with fries. 

“Chew.” 

Buckys recoils in embarrassment and covers his mouth, face tinted red from dancing. He swallows and lowers his hand. “sorry.”

“Thank you.” you sigh, pushing your food away from you. “You did most of the work, but I'd like to keep practicing.”

Bucky stopped, and looked at you as you stared intently into him. Bucky flustered mix. 

“Are you gonna keep blushing or accept my offer on a second date.” you shoot back and Bucky feels the air leave his lungs. His ears are definitely burning red.

“I'm not bushing? What are you talking about? This is me worn out from all the dancing.`` Bucky plays dumb, throwing a fry into the basket between the two of you. Slowly pulling out his billfold from his jeans.

Your eyes roll dramatically, as a scoff escapes your lips. “Yeah, okay. Super soldier.” 

Bucky narrows his eye’s toward you, a grin plastered on his face. “I'd love to go on a second date.”

You bite back a grin. “Ready?” you asked, bucky puts down the money to pay and nodded. Bucky gives you a boyish smile that you'd only recognized from old war photos. It warms you to the core, leaving you flustered. He grabs at your hand as you let him drag you out of the diner, a secure arm around your waist.

The light breeze of new york hit both of you, your hands instantly going up to your arms to warm yourself. Bucky notices all too quickly and instantly wraps his jacket around you. 

“Oh, thank you. Are you cold?” you ask, seemingly genuinely worried.

“Doll.” he stares down at you, and bucky speaks like the answer is obvious, which– it kinda is. “I hiked through Siberia in less.” 

“Whatever.” you scoff and roll your eyes, tugging the jacket closer around your body. the corners of your mouth slowly creeping up.

The faint scent of bucky comes off of it, sandalwood and pine mostly. You're used to the smell when he's not coming into your lab sweaty or bloody from missions and workouts. A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, filtered out by the busy city around you.

“So… I’ll see you tomorrow?” you speak awkwardly, unsure of where to go from here.

“Yep, tomorrow.” Bucky strings on the word, are also awkward. 

You could cut the tension with a knife.

“Or…” your voice raises a few octaves as you turn on your heels to face him, barely a foot between the two of you.  

Bucky's eyebrow quirks up, “Or?” 

“Or you could come back to my very, very nice and cozy apartment that isn't full of agents and superhumans.”

You flashed your best and greatest grin toward Bucky, and the way you were looking at him made Bucky want to crumble beneath his knees. You shouldn't have this effect on him, his heart tugged towards you in a weird, mysterious way that Bucky wasn't familiar with yet. He wasn't going to lie and say it didn’t stress him out a tiny bit.

Bucky let out a heavy, pained exhale and stepped a little closer to you. “Not tonight, doll. sorry.”

“It's okay.” your face dropped slightly, but then you looked up at him and a flash of something came across your feature and soon a smirk was replaced. “Then let me have this.”

“What–?”

Bucky was cut off by your warm hands cupping his face and lips as he received the most gentle kiss he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Initial shock ran through his body at the suddenness, and just as he accepted the feeling and went to melt into the kiss— you pulled away. Bucky felt so cold without you against him, he hated feeling cold.

“Wait, no.” he eagerly grabbed your face to pull you back in. Bucky didn't care if he sounded needy, because he did need this. noticing a glimpse of your more than satisfied grin before he shut his eyes and let himself feel your touch.

It was like you were meant for bucky, the perfect puzzle piece as your lips molded against each other. Slow and passionate, his hand ghosted above your waist before he pulled you full against his body. If it wasn't for your wedged heels, Bucky wasn't sure if you'd even reach his lips with the way you stood on your toes. 

Pulling away, Bucky felt dizzy, like he was drunk off of you. He swears he saw stars in your eyes, the street lights reflecting off your irises. Soft laughter came from you, you bowed your head as bucky stared at you. Practically mesmerized. 

To you, Bucky looked like he was in some sort of shock. Which wouldn’t be too far from the truth, which scared you slightly.

“Everything okay? Did I do something wrong?” you asked innocently, a pang of worry laced your tone.

Bucky frantically shook his head, “no, no– god no. just not used to that.”

“That?” 

“I mean.” Bucky thought for a moment, collecting his mind. “Being kissed. I've always been the one to initiate.”

You smiled sweetly, seeing hints of a flustered, young boyish version of Bucky. One that he, and everyone else swore was long gone. You had always thought otherwise, and tonight proves you right.

“I hope it wasn’t too jarring for you.” you nervously chuckled. 

“It was perfect.”

_

tag list;@matchat3a @sebsgirl71479 @heavenswrld @ivywasmaroon

[blushingwife]

I've Got You - a soft!Ghost x OC short story

When I say I'm very anxious about posting this, I mean I'm *deathly* anxious. HOWEVER. I'm so very proud of myself for completing this. You did it, hun :) This is what I've chosen to kickstart my "writing career". I decided to indulge in my deepest guilty pleasure: soft!Ghost. My teenage self would gag at how cheesy this is but you know what? She was lying to herself because she loved the cheesy stuff. There's something in me that wants to keep writing for her. So I think I will. I hope someone enjoys this as much as I loved writing it. More to come. CW: some self-deprecating thoughts. Otherwise, just pure unadulterated fluff.

Failing at his attempt to not panic was causing Simon to panic even more. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt scared in this relationship with Liz. The initial few weeks had been a constant battle with himself to stop believing she would leave once she realized his facade was a scam. A feeling had nagged at the back of his mind telling him he was a fool to trust her. That he was setting himself a trap. Then, the first time they’d argued with intensity, he’d been ready to end it and spare her from the effort and pain. But, truthfully, the thought of leaving was more painful than feeling unworthy of her. They both wished to do better. He’d apologized. She’d apologized. They’d basked in each other’s company after that and realized the experience had brought them closer to understanding how to make it work.

In time, his instincts calmed down. He learned to lean on her when he needed support and also to be her support as needed. So the current rising panic in his gut brought him to those first months and he did not like it one bit.

He kept playing with the loop of his black tie, never quite satisfied with its position. Liz’s younger brother was getting married, the first in the family. Everyone was coming, no matter how remotely they knew the bride and groom. Simon had never been anyone’s plus one before. Was convinced he’d never be. But as he raised his eyes from his neck to the deep brown irises of his reflection in the mirror in front of him, he remembered all of this was as real as it was gonna get. And after today, it would be official. All her family would know they were together.

“You’re fidgeting,” Liz’s voice said behind him. He forced the tension in his neck away with a quick roll of his shoulders.

“’M not” He dropped his arms as a pair of hands rounded his waist and then her weight settled on his back.

“Right.” He could almost feel her amused smirk. “You’re not.”

He raised his arm and reached back, inviting her forward. Liz slid underneath it to his side, never leaving the embrace. She raised her hand to his tie, arranging it exactly to where he wanted it to be, then glanced at him.

“You look handsome.” She kissed his cheek. Simon leaned his head toward her but kept staring into the mirror, into that maskless face that was supposed to be him but felt like someone else.

She ducked her head into his neck as she studied him through the mirror, trying to guess what it was that kept Simon’s attention.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered. That made Simon divert her eyes to her reflection. “Whatever you’re worried about. It’ll be okay.”

He turned his head to her real self, getting trapped in the depths of her eyes. He swallowed the urge to deny her statement, out of habit. It was still not easy to believe that she actually meant her words. “Yeah,” he agreed, then pressed a light kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be with you,” she said, pressing her palm to his chest. “You know that, right?”

He nods, shifting his stance toward her to pull her into a hug that he felt deep into his soul. The knot in his stomach relaxed when she didn’t press for further explanations. He should tell her what was going through his head. He’d always felt better when she knew. This wouldn’t be any different. Would it?

“Come on,” she pushed him back gently. “We need to get going.”

As they separated, Simon kept his grip on her hand and followed her out of their apartment into the elevator to the garage. They were silent the whole time but she drew small circles in his hand with her thumb. It grounded him. Left room in his mind meanwhile to gather the courage to tell her why he was anxious.

She offered him the car keys as they approached her vehicle. He tilted slightly his head at her as a silent question and she shrugged.

“Not really in the mood to drive,” she explained scrunching her nose. Simon took the keys as Liz dropped them in his hand, then entered the driver’s seat, started the engine and began the ride.

Liz spent most of the silent trip sparing brief glances at him, hoping she wasn’t making him too uncomfortable with her observation. He was gripping the steering wheel too hard almost since they had left. For a whole minute she thought she might have been paranoid, seeing things that weren’t there out of a desire to understand, but she’d watched him enough to know the difference between him being alert and being nervous. Something was bothering him. None of her theories were enough to bring proper conclusions.

“Simon?”

His hands relaxed in an unconscious reflex. His eyes moved for a second toward her before turning to the road ahead.

“Are you okay?” she asked. He rolled his shoulders again, giving her a nonchalant look.

“Sure” She glanced down. Wrong question to ask.

She looked at him for a long time, unable to figure out her next words. How to help him. None of the sentences she thought about seemed decent enough. He would shut down or lie. She swallowed a sigh. It was beyond frustrating. Feeling like being there for him wasn’t enough.

“What?” he asked and arched an eyebrow at her once he noticed she’d been staring. She pursed her lips into a slight smile.

“I love you.”

She had said it so easily he was unable to hide his own grin. His scalp and cheeks warmed. He switched his own palm from the wheel to underneath hers as it rested on her leg and clenched it firmly. Something inside his body stirred uncontrollably every time he heard those words. He wanted to think his actions talked louder. That he always demonstrated his love for her through small daily acts. Trying to say it out loud still felt scathing. Like it would become a duty he needed to step up for while in reality he had nothing to offer. And yet, when he dared ask her why she had not given up on him, her answer was always the same: she didn’t want anything else.

He straightened in his seat as he realized. Yes, he was still scared. Of not being worthy of it. Of fucking it all up. If he said it… there was no going back. But wasn’t he already too far down at this point?

The sound of the GPS reminded him they were arriving at the venue.

The crowd started from the parking lot. Not even minding the unrelenting heat of the sun above their heads, little groups of people talked and laughed while others headed toward the yard or restaurant beside it. Simon chose to park further down, a bit more isolated from where most cars were. He switched off the engine, glancing to his left at the building as Liz stepped outside. Too many people to meet. Would they consider him enough for her, like Liz did? He didn’t want to know.

Liz had walked out and to his side of the car. Her eyes were on him, expectant. He stood, closed the car behind him, then took Liz’s hand in his. As he started walking, Liz pulled him back.

Simon swung to her as she dug inside her tiny party purse and brought out a carefully folded piece of black cloth with white paint.

“I brought it for you,” she said, as she offered his old ghost mask. Simon blinked, tempted by the offer to hide behind his usual facade. He shook his head and she tilted hers to the side, inquisitive. He was not about to turn back on his decision.

“I want to make a good impression on your family.”

She frowned.

“They already know you.”

For the last couple of years, her family had already hosted several Christmas parties and other gatherings to which the 141 was invited. Yes, they’d met Ghost. But they hadn’t met Simon.

“It’s not the same.”

She watched him, as she usually did and only put aside the mask in her purse when Simon pushed her hand down in confirmation. Then, she closed the distance between them as he glanced to the ground. She lifted her hands to his cheeks and forced him to look at her.

“Why not?”

“It just isn’t”

She caressed his cheeks with her thumbs. “Okay. Well… You know you’ve already made a good impression, right?”

He slid his arms around her in silence, holding on to the comfort of her presence.

“They have loved having you around. A mask didn’t make a difference.” She leaned forward, bringing his forehead to hers. His frown deepened Liz’s own. Her heart accelerated in silent outrage.

“Do you know why I know?” she asked. He waited.

“Because wearing it or not, I still see the same man I fell in love with.”

He swallowed thickly. Closing the distance to her lips with his own, he savored her sweet taste like a man drinking in a desert oasis. When they parted for air, Simon leaned into her neck and closed his eyes, trying to print the memory of her scent into his brain as she slid her arms above his shoulders.

“I’ve got you, okay?”

He nods as she strokes his scalp soothingly. She was in no hurry.

“I love you too,” he said, after a while, before the impulse grew weaker.

Her grin lit up her whole face.

“I know.”

When they separated, she was the one to kiss him one last time before walking toward the venue hand in hand, his step lighter than what she had seen for the entire day.

As they made their way toward the entrance, Simon instantly recognized Liz’s mother, Mrs. Hale, a woman in a pale green floral dress with a slight hunch, gray hair in a high bun and still commanding her surroundings with a kind smile. Judging by her welcoming stance and eagerness to spare a greeting to everyone passing, she had taken the role of greeter and guide, pointing out areas of the venue. When Liz and Simon came in, almost the last ones in the queue, the woman immediately lit up at his sight.

“My! Dear, how wonderful to see you again,” she said, going straight for a hug towards a stunned Simon. As far as he remembered, the woman had never seen him before without his mask.

“Good to know you missed me, Mum” Liz retorted with a chuckle “You know I always do but him, I don’t see him that often.” They parted and it was Liz’s turn for a motherly hug.

“How’d you know who I was?”

The woman turned to Simon again with a wide grin, the skin around her eyes wrinkling deeper but in the same way that Liz did when she smiled.

“How could I not?” she waves away his puzzled expression as if it were obvious what she meant. “Dear, let me introduce you to the other side of the family, come, you two,” she urged, then walked further inside without concern about the last of the guests she hadn’t greeted.

Liz felt Simon’s hesitation but she squeezed his hand and when he looked at her, she nodded again to let him know she would be right beside him. Always.

[ddejavvu]

you’ve probably done something like this before but stepdad hotch when the reader comes back late after a hookup or smth and he’s just pissed off cause like..what??

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+ and dark, minors dni.

You're a master at opening the door silently, but it doesn't matter, because Aaron is sitting in the living room when you get back.

You freeze up when the door swings open and reveals him, and at the sight of your too-short shorts, he does too.

Then he speaks, voice low and sharp, "Where have you been?"

"Out." You shrug, slipping your keys back into your pocket, "I don't have a curfew. I'm not a kid."

"Out? Oh," He chuckles, but there's absolutely no humor in the sound, "You mean out in the driveway? That engine was loud. Did you really think no one would see you two through the windows? You really thought it was a good idea to fuck in the backseat like some cheap hookup?"

"It was a cheap hookup!" You fume, "All he had to do was pay for dinner."

Aaron's jaw clenches, and he squeezes his eyes shut, "You are worth more than that."

"What, you think a hookup determines my worth? I know I'm worth more than dinner, Aaron," You huff, "But I don't define my worth by my body, or who I give it to."

"I'm not saying that you're only worth your body," He scoffs, "I'm just saying you deserve better. You deserve someone who takes you inside and doesn't bend you against the center console."

Your nose scrunches, your chest hot, "Were you watching?"

"No! I wasn't watching," Aaron insists, his eyes blazing, "All I'm saying is that you don't have to cram yourself against a car door to get a quick fuck."

"No one's offering anything else," You laugh, sarcasm bleeding through the raw cracks in your voice, "What am I supposed to do, huh? Who's lined up to romance me, Aaron? You know someone?"

He looks to the ground. It's the first time he's broken your gaze since you stepped through the door, and it makes you feel like you've won, somehow.

"Go to your room," He murmurs face faintly rose-colored, "Clean up. You need to rest."

"What?" Your stomach churns slightly at his shift in tone, softness not a typical component of his grumble.

"Did he- are you... okay?" Aaron glances back up at you through his lashes.

"I'm fine." You mumble cautiously, "It.. it was fine."

He stalks off to the kitchen without another word, a scowl on his face.

You walk up the stairs with an uneasy feeling in your stomach. You like testing boundaries with him; he's easy to rile up and some rebellion leftover from your teenage years helps your case. But this seemed different, he... broke.

Changing into your pajamas feels nice, the soft fabric a stark contrast against your skin from the jeans and sticky underwear. When you step out of the bathroom with a clean body but a muddled mind, Aaron is sitting on your bed.

You stiffen at his presence, and he stands.

"There's water there," He motions to your nightstand, "And a cookie. Just... rest. Okay?"

You eye the chocolate treat on your side table warily, "Thank you?"

"Yeah. And sleep in tomorrow," He orders, stern once more after his strange lapse of grouchiness, "I'll tell Jack to leave you alone."

You slip under your bedsheets in lieu of a response, reaching for the water to take a sip. It only delays your response more, and Aaron stands there awkwardly.

"Thanks," You finally breathe, throat refreshed and muscles relaxing against your mattress.

He looks like he wants to tuck you in, fingers twitching at his sides. He stares for just a moment too long, then meets your eyes once more to nod silently. Once.

"Goodnight," He murmurs, letting himself out and shutting the door behind him. He's such a presence that your room feels empty without him, too empty. The cookie helps, though, heart-shaped and chocolatey, just as gooey as the feeling in the pit of your stomach as you recall Aaron's pinky cheeks.

[oumaheroes]

Now I have to send this answer back to you! Do you feel you have changed the way you write England (and France!) since the beginning? In what ways do you think you have improved when writing them?

Oh GOD yes!

On England:

I used to write him more as per old fandom norms: stereotypically tsundere, grumpy, quick to react, and emotionally a bit all over the place in regards to how he came to certain conclusions. All from the anime, of course, which definitely flavoured how the fandom wrote and portrayed him as a whole

But mostly, he's unchanged. Most of those traits didn't last too long for me. As soon as I tried writing him in a long form story he rigidly rebelled haha. He's always had a very strong and set personality in my head and my Arthur from 2011 is the same guy he is for me today, just with a few more bells and whistles that I've since chipped off

The main ways he's changed I think is just through me improving as a writer and being able to better understand and portray nuance. I think he's a very complciated person, very layered and confusing even to himself, and whilst on the surface he might be contrary or stubborn the reasons he has for his behaviour make sense to him. I wasn't very good at showing this when I started out writing and my early Arthur is clearly written by a less mature writer and person. As I've grown, he's grown with me

On France

Boy, my old France got the short end of the fandom stick whacked at him. Unlike Arthur, who has always been himself with me for the most part, my old Francis personality was much more fandom incarnate from the early twenty tens. Bit of a sexual leech, a nudist, a party animal... a bit of a silly show piece with not too much thought into him. Dramatic for no reason

I think my old France is probably still recognisible as the character I write today for the most part, but I've since taken away all of the old silly fandom traits he was given and matured him up to make him more complicated. As the fandom has aged I feel we've all moved further and further away from the old anime portrayals, and I loved reading stories of Francis as this hyper intelligent cruel and vulnerable guy. I love giving him that capacity now, along with Arthur, and layering him up like a pretty lil onion

FrUK together

Honestly, I have said this before somewhere but as soon as I put the two of them in a scene that was it, they were the stars of the show. The first proper Hetalia fic I tried to write was USUK and Francis was supposed to be Arthur's childhood bestfriend and instantly they were the main characters. Instantly, their scenes together were my favourites, their dialogue my best, and they had more chemistry and intimacy than anything else. I converted myself to FrUK, I am the problem ahha

As soon as I wrote them together their relationship set solid and it's been unchanged ever since. It wasn't even planned, there was no room for growth- how they are now is how they were then. I abandoned that USUK fic and shifted to Reset and welp, been here with them arguing in my head ever since

The only way I write them differently is maybe how easy they are together? I used to write England more reluctant with affection and France more forceful, and they've softened with age as I've smoothed out the old rigidities of their characters. It's the same now, just softer

[debu-neko-kun]

Sammy’s Formula

Short second-person weight gain and moo-cow TF; I kept it pretty gender neutral, since everyone can be fat and moo-y. Anywho, is this my first story in several years starring my boy Sammy? Yes. Is he going to make you a giant obese milky cow? Also yes. Enjoy! “Alright darlin’, drink up when you’re ready!” 

The wide, green-haired moo-boy stood in front of you, his sizable hips taking up most of your view of the back of the spacious barn-turned-laboratory. An excited grin is plastered on his chubby face; his fat-heavy arms jiggle as he hands you a cup. It’s a regular clear plastic cup labeled “Serum B”, the pink liquid contained within smelling strongly of sweet cream and strawberries. 

“I’ll be filmin’ this for scientific record, just like we talked about; that still okay, sugar?” 

You nod. You’d come this far, traveling all the way out here to Sammy’s Sunshine Dairy, answering an ad calling for volunteers to help with a product trial. You skimmed it, noticing that It promised 500 dollars, and with Sammy being a reputable local business owner that specializes in weight-boosting milkshakes and products for moo-boys, you figured it was easy money. Taste testing for 500 bucks? Yes please. Besides, Sammy’s calm and friendly demeanor instantly put you at ease, which made it all the easier to say yes.

With one last little breath, you bring the cup to your mouth. As soon as it hits your tongue, your senses are awash with sweet, fresh strawberry flavor; it’s like the best strawberry ice cream you’ve ever had, but somehow better. You can’t help yourself and take another big gulp, then another and another.. Before you know it, you’re standing in the middle of the room holding an empty cup. Sammy beams at you from behind the camera. 

“I reckon that means you liked it.” he chuckles, shifting his stance to get a better angle with the camera, black skirt riding up to expose a considerable amount of his girthy cheeks. If he noticed, he didn’t say. “Lemme know if ya feel anything yet.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, your gut rumbles loud enough to echo across the walls. You put your hand to your stomach, a little embarrassed; maybe dairy wasn’t quite agreeing with you today. As you hold your hand there, you begin to notice something; your shirt is shifting beneath your grip, sliding and bunching, tightening around your middle… and that’s when you feel the mass of your belly growing out, pushing your hand away as it thickens and softens into a proper belly right before your very eyes.

“Woah, that’s fast! Didn’t expect it to go so quick, sugar. Should stop right about… now.” Sammy spoke. 

You watch in stunned silence as the soft swell of flesh begins to peek out beneath your shirt, the fabric unable to cover it any longer; a small sliver quickly turns into a wide patch of exposed flesh. You can feel a strange soothing warmth as the rest of your body begins to rapidly soften like rising bread, pants pulling tight around your growing cheeks, underwear receding, shirt sleeves gripping the dipping lard-wings you’re developing. 

“U-Uh, any second…” Sammy shuffles nervously, watching you grow fatter and fatter. 

What was that stuff? What’s happening? These questions escape your lips as your chest fills out like water balloons stuck on a milk spigot, blowing up and up, nipples perfectly visible through the tightening fabric, growing faster than the rest of you to catch up; the sudden onslaught is too much for the shirt, and it begins to tear from the collar straight down the middle. 

“W-Wait, didn’t ya read the advertisement?” Sammy speaks, a look of confusion now mixing with mild panic. “It said you’d be testin’ my new line of moo formula; y’know, like the formula that turns ya all chubby and cow-like? This was supposed to be the beginner dose, but it looks like ah might have… well, overshot it…” 

Your pants are the next to go, a catastrophic failure beginning with the sudden rupture of the seat of your pants and culminating in so many ripped and snapped seams you were rapidly left standing in just your underwear. The camera captures your enormity in frame, from your bare rolly thighs that squish together in silken flows to the gut dipping down and encroaching on their territory, to your bra-obliterating breasts that encroach on your belly in turn. As if turning into a parade blimp weren’t enough, you feel a warm, numb tingle on your head like running water; reaching up, you can feel two cow horns poking out of your skull, nubby and short, but otherwise sitting amongst your hair like they’d always been there. You turn your head, fat cheek pressing into shoulder in an effort to look at your couch-filling ass, and feel two fuzzy new cow ears flopping against your cheek. 

You reach out to your belly with lardbag arms as thick as bed pillows and place your dimpled hands on the gut that grows, and grows, and grows some more… you feel your back fat touch the shelf of an ass that has by now outgrown even your underwear and you shiver; everything on you is softening, drooping, widening, filling, touching, jiggling. The sensations are almost overwhelming, but… 

It’s not bad? 

Not something you’d thought you’d think, given the circumstances, but it was true. You felt like you had just crawled beneath a comforter straight out of the dryer, or slipped into a hot tub: only the hot tub is *you*, your girthy circumference and sheer volume certainly enough to fill one at least. 

“Oh, it looks like it’s slowin’ down… a-at least, ah hope so…” he mumbled in his thick southern accent, looking more than a little embarrassed himself over his formula error. 

You confirm his suspicion: the growth is finally slowing, the last pounds creeping in at close to solidify you as a nearly spherical ball of lard. But just as it stopped, a tingle began at the peaks of your breasts; you pat at them, hammy arms squishing them together as you work to try to soothe the tingle. 

The tingling builds and builds until finally, like a dam breaking, streams of milk begin pouring down your breasts, tickling your belly before dripping to the floor.

“W-Well… if’n you want, ah can just… pay ya now and send ya home with some of my pajamas…” Sammy spoke sheepishly. “But bein’ that large, might be a little bit of an adjustment… ah can always set you up a room in the farmhouse, let ya work here for a while if you’re interested. Long as you want, ‘till you’re adjusted to bein’ a cow– seein’ as it’s permanent an’ all– or just for as long as you wanna work ‘round here as a dairy cow. What’ya say? You want to hang around?” 

You grip your belly and let out a long, happy moo. 

“Good enough answer as any, I reckon.” 

[shitouttabuck]

wip wednesday

tagged by @forthewolves @rewritetheending @try-set-me-on-fire @jeeyuns @rainbow-nerdss @alyxmastershipper @eowon @giddyupbuck @icecreampotluck 💘

from i love you like a dog

When he comes back out to put his shoes on, Eddie’s obediently heading to bed, albeit muttering grouchily to himself the whole time. Buck’s struck by this sudden and violent urge to stride over and kiss him on his forehead, just a short and sweet goodbye. He wants to do it now, and he wants to do it tomorrow and every time he ever has to leave, however brief it may be. Eddie pauses at his bedroom door and peers back at Buck down the dark hallway. Then he grins, quick, before bossily saying, “Well, don’t keep my kid waiting. And expect that list. I will not be taking comments on my friendship with our meat vendor today, so not one word if you also happen to receive some questions to relay to her.” With that, he marches into his bedroom, leaving Buck’s face aching with the span of his smile and his heart aching with the easy way Eddie’d referred to Mariana as an our. It's hard to know when something shifts when you’re living in it. But if Buck from two weeks ago had harboured any thoughts of dizzyingly domestic goodbye kisses, he’d have folded it up as small as possible and tucked it into the recesses of his mind. Today? Buck folds it once, twice, and tucks it into his back pocket. It’s not that it’s suddenly conceivable, more that—the last couple weeks have felt like such a dream already, and maybe Buck’s feeling indulgent. He knows he’ll have to wake up soon, so until then, he’ll let himself pretend it’s within reach.

i think. this might be the last i love you like a dog snippet i post? i only have one scene left to write and then. PLENTY of editing. i love u guys SO bad for sticking w me and being so unbelievably lovely through the whole deranged writing of this fic like i want to kiss each and every one of you. she is so special to me but so personal it would’ve driven me insane in a bad way if i didn’t have y’all. do u wanna guess how long she accidentally became. it's stupid long for a fic that was never supposed to be more than 15k at MOST.......

tagging @anxieteandbiscuits @colonoscopys @transboybuckley @zahlibeth @diazblunt if y’all have anything 💗

[angelofrainfrogs]

Going Back: Ch. 14

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: Things are looking up for Gregory. After putting the soul of a formerly-immortal killer to rest, he and his new family can finally begin their lives anew. Sure, Gregory might have been cursed with mysterious Remnant in exchange for being involved in this mess—not to mention his caretakers consist of sentient robots and ghosts… But there’s no doubt that the bond they share is unbreakable. They love him, and he in turn. 

All in all, life is finally starting to go right for once. 

…Unfortunately, true peace is a hard-won battle. There are other things to contend with besides William’s decrepit soul, and Gregory will learn that his role in the lives of the Aftons and Emilys is far greater than anyone could’ve imagined. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Amazingly, Michael slept until the crack of 3 pm. He left the land of sleep in a daze, barely registering he was awake at first. Rolling onto his back, he stretched his arms out and accidentally smacked Charlie’s face with the back of his hand in the process. It was her retaliating punch to his ribs that fully brought Michael to reality and with a mumbled apology he got out of bed, rubbing his side like it was now a bruised as he meandered to the shower. Clean and refreshed a short while later, Mike headed off to the Pizzaplex. Thankfully he didn’t need to eat and was therefore able to head straight to Sam for an update on the day and to see what was on the docket for tonight’s tasks.

Meanwhile, Gregory stirred a few minutes after Michael left the hotel room. Freddy had been dozing, getting more used to the concept of sleep as time went on, although he immediately perked up when the boy next to him began shifting.

“Good morning, Gregory,” Freddy said, pressing a quick kiss to his son’s forehead. Amazingly, the hoodie was mostly still on, having shifted only slightly during Gregory’s deep slumber. Bleary silver eyes peered up at Freddy from underneath the set of bear ears, making the ursine man’s heart absolutely melt. 

Charlie was lucky Sam didn’t want her in “officially” to work until Monday. That’s when she was supposed to be settled to help Sam out; invoices and directing his calls sounded fairly easy when it came to her more logic oriented brain. For today, Charlie was content to sleep with her now-bruised cheek facing the ceiling.

Gregory had been mindful of Charlie’s slumber in the bed next to them as he quietly greeted Freddy. “Morning, Dad…”

A fast smile returned to his face. He was the luckiest kid—not just statistically. Today he felt good. With no hide nor hair of his foster parents around, Gregory was relaxed and happy to wake up with people who actually cared about him. He rolled over, throwing his arms around his dad as he thought of how close he was to never having a life like this.

***

Sam looked a lot better. The bags under his eyes were beginning to clear up nicely thanks to those strange melatonin candies Moon carried around, the natural sleep aids doing wonders for Samuel’s complexion. Outside the Daycare, Sam met with Michael and instructed him on what this shift was going to look like this afternoon.

“I was going ask you to help me get started on Roxy’s restoration, but Sophie’s going to meet you in the main security hub first,” Sam said, refilling a coffee thermos in a break room behind a Staff Only door. “She’ll show you the security route and protocol stuff. You know, newbie training and everything. It would be kind of unfair if everyone but you had to do orientation and all." Grimacing, Sammy leaned in close and cupped a hand over his mouth. "Plus, between you and me, she's the most suspicious about you guys—best not to give her any reason to make it worse.”

“I understand,” Michael replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. He raised an eyebrow as Sam inhaled the coffee, recalling the days when he too survived mostly on pitchers of the stuff. “I’ll meet her now then, I suppose?” When Sam hummed in confirmation, the guard nodded and headed off to the security hub. He wondered what Sophie thought of all this…

Would she still be mildly terrified of him as the Afton heir, like she’d been during past interactions? Thankfully Mike could now do away with that stuffy persona modeled after his cold-hearted father, although he knew the personality change would probably throw poor Sophie for a loop.

And speak of the devil—she was waiting for Michael right where Sam indicated, staring off into space.

“Hey!” Mike greeted as he approached, giving Sophie a little wave. He lowered this hand and offered it for her to shake with an apologetic smile. “Sammy said you wanted to show me a few things? I, uh… I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot earlier this week. I promise I’m not a complete asshole.”

Inside the room, Sophie had paused the video feed she was reviewing. Michael didn’t ask why, so she didn’t explain her reasoning for looking over the tapes. She tried hiding her jump when Mike began to speak, and his suddenly friendly demeanor had her very confused.

This was the same Michael Afton with the shitty attitude and muscle shirts, right? Sophie decided for the sake of their jobs, it was best to throw that mess under the bridge.

“Oh, it was a stressful week for everyone, Mr. Afton. No worries!” she replied with an easy going shrug before reaching out and taking his hand. She shook it firmly, and felt more at ease when she could feel him respond and match the strength of her grip. “But hey! Now that you’re here, I can start your tour!”

“Sounds good,” Michael responded, although he grimaced slightly at the name. “Oh, and no need for all that formal stuff anymore—Mr. Afton was my father. Just call me Michael or Mike; whichever you prefer.”

“You got it.” An easygoing smile returned to Sophie’s face. Perhaps the off-putting behavior had all been caused by stress. Intrigued, Sophie stood and began explaining the typical duties of a Fazbear night guard. “So—if you're doing nightshift, the first stop is making sure the auto locks go off at twelve at night. Starting from there, I'll show you the route we normally take! I personally just like taking a walk down the atrium from the front doors. Then it's just checking the backrooms in the fastest way possible before making it back to the security room.”

Gathering her flashlight and walkie, Sophie was sure to log out of the computer before hitting the door button on their way out of the room. No one needed to know she was snooping through video surveillance...

Michael instinctively patted down his work belt as he watched Sophie get her supplies. Everything was intact and accounted for, as usual. The day Michael Afton forgot or misplaced a piece of security guard gear would mark the failing of his mental capacities—after everything he’d been through, he’d never lose a potential weapon unless it was from throwing it at an animatronic that was after his blood. Hopefully they’d never have to worry about that again, though.

As Sophie continued speaking, Mike managed to pull his thoughts back to the present and follow her out the door. “Auto locks go off at twelve, then case the back rooms and return to the security office—got it.”

His gaze swiveled around as they walked, really trying to take in the building he’d be working and half-living in for god knows how long. “I know there’s multiple offices, though the one by the stage is the central hub. Does the night guard switch between them, or are the others more so there for back up or extra dayshift security?” 

“Daytime security mostly. We used to have... More night guards. And day guards.” Sophie subconsciously reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Yeah, Vanessa had scared off a few newbies trying to learn the ropes. Honestly she was glad that Ness decided to take a wellness trip. Someone that high-strung sorely needed it, especially if she was keeping other people from doing their jobs.

When they hit the atrium, Sophie explained it a bit more thoroughly. “Usually if we had more staff, they’d be helping you out by watching their own sectors while you do rounds. Not many people want to work here these days... Go figure.”

Sophie spoke honestly, maybe even against her better judgement as she knew Mike and Sam must be friends of some kind. Still... Everyone knew this place had a weird history. Sophie was aware before even taking the job, and yet—probably against her better judgement—she still signed the employee contract.

“Speaking of which...,” she began, slowly drawling her words as she carefully meandered around the subject. “Why did you want to work security anyway? It doesn't exactly have the best reputation as a fun job...”

A wistful smile crossed Mike’s face.

“No, it certainly doesn’t,” he agreed, pale eyes flickering to Sophie’s briefly before looking away. “I’ve got personal stake in this place, for one thing.”

He might as well flaunt the Afton name even though he hated it. Maybe he could even reclaim it in time. While he’d never be rid of the dark blot of terror William created that forever loomed over Fazbear Entertainment, Michael could at least do his best to convince his coworkers that not every Afton was evil… or dead.

Kind of.

“Also, like we told you before we came to check in on this place per Sam’s request,” Michael went on as he and Sophie meandered casually through the Pizzaplex. “When I saw the state of things and the clearly overwhelmed night guard, I had to stick around to help. I might not look like it, but I’ve got a fair amount of security detail experience under my belt.”

He stopped himself from rambling more, not wanting to say too much. Michael got the strangest sensation that Sophie might actually understand some of his sordid past if he told her—or at the very least accept it. But that wasn’t a fair burden to put on anyone, let alone someone so young just trying to do their job. For now, Michael would remain the enigmatic Afton willing to help his family friend Samuel anyway he could.

The pair meandered through the Pizzaplex, chattering idly as Sophie explained the standard duties of what security here entailed. Eventually, their trip took them to the Daycare. The closer they got, the more Mike realized that this might not be the best idea. So far, Ennard had done a great job of avoiding dayshift staff, although they’d never been so close to Michael as they would be in the Daycare…

Of course, it was entirely possible that the amalgamation was chilling in the basement with Henry, though with technically two new friends if counting Sun and Moon separate, Ennard was spending most of their time in the rainbow room of fun. It would be too suspicious if Michael asked Sophie to wait outside while he scouted the area. Instead, he opted for loudly announcing their presence, hoping the knowledge that he was with someone else would be enough to send Ennard running for cover if they were around.

“Sophie, have you gotten the chance to visit Sun since he got all fixed up?” Michael asked, speaking a bit louder than might be necessary as they ducked under the garage door leading to the drop-off area.

“Oh yeah! I visited him this morning,” she answered in a perky way, figuring he was just making conversation. She approached the slide, which was honestly one of her favorite ways to enter any of the attractions. “Dude, I felt so bad. I tried asking Sun what was wrong but he just sort of covered his mouth and screamed? I think Sam said he was stuck between personality matrixes. And because he's sort of scared of the dark, it left him freaked out for like the whole weekend!”

Standing aside, Sophie waited for Mike to go down first. “Have you ever taken the slide into the Daycare? It's so much more fun than it looks.” 

Inside, Mari was currently having the time of her life. Running around and chasing after both Sun and Ennard in one of the more enriching games of tags she's ever played, mostly her and Sun were the ones shouting over any attempts at signaling those robots inside the Daycare. 

Well, shit. Michael caught a flash of movement—three shapes, and that’s all he needed to know. Sun and his new friends were playing and clearly didn’t hear his warning. Mari he could explain away: Charlie’s little sister, come to visit the Pizzaplex and Sam. The CEO needed to get some work done, and therefore dropped her off in the Daycare for Sun to watch over. Ennard though… now that would be a tough one.

Michael ran a stressed hand through his hair. As usual, that thing was the bane of his existence. Thinking quickly, he flashed Sophie a grin and took her offer of going first down the slide. Wasting no time, he practically threw himself down feet first, landing in a crash of plastic that instantly caught the yelling robots’ attention. They had about ten seconds max before Sophie made it into the ball pit, and as Michael scrambled out of the way he hissed frantically: “Dayshift guard right behind me! Ennard, GET OUT!”

Ennard briefly caught that flash of muted white and black of the security guard uniform. They were excited to see the human man and shouted a greeting to him.

“MIKEY! I AM WINNING TAG!” They stopped right by the ball pit, leaning over to loom over Michael, excited to finally talk to his friend after some silence for the past few days. But when they felt Mari's strong little hands shove them hard into the ball pit, they knew they were out of the game for now.

“TAG!” Mari shouted at the big old mess of wires and gears. “Now stay hidden you big goober!” She said, clapping the dust from the grody carpeting she had to touch.

Behind Michael there was a shout of joy from Sophie as she slid face first down and crashed into the ball pit, unaware what was lurking just out of sight in the plastic pool.

“Wooo... Man, that never gets old!” she laughed, shaking her hair out as she resurfaced. Though confusion quickly over took her as she saw Mari standing before Michael at the edge of the pit. “Oh—hey? What's your name? Are you lost...?”

Mari was quick to answer, her only downside being that she was a very truthful person by nature.

“No ma'am! I'm not lost; I'm Mari!” she protested, a cheeky grin on her face. Very cute, but Sophie did not quite like being called ma'am. It made her feel far too old. Standing up and wiping invisible dust off her pants, Sophie slowly made her way over to the young girl.

“Well, sweetheart, we've been closed for the past week. Do your parents know you're here?” she said, taking a very gentle approach to helping her. Although Mari looked kind of old to want to hang out in the Daycare area...

“This little angel is Charlie’s sister!” Michael quickly chimed in, scrambling out of the ball pit before a wiry tendril under the surface could fully wrap around his ankle and lock him in place. Once on the padded floor of the play area, he snaked an arm around Mari’s shoulders and pulled her into a side hug. “She came to visit Sam, but he must’ve needed to get some work done and dropped her off in the Daycare. Right, Sun?”

Michael shot a glance over his shoulder to where Sun was stooped, gazing at the interaction with rapt interest. It was a good thing his static face was stuck in a permanent smile, for the way he wrung his hands together indicated his nervousness at the situation. However, he immediately latched onto Michael’s direction, shifting his hands to clap them together.

“Oh yes!” the lanky animatronic exclaimed, bells on his wrists jingling as he swayed from foot to foot. “I’m watching over her until Sam or Charlie comes to pick her up! Ooh, but isn’t she just the cutest little ray of sunshine?!”

In a fit of what could only be described as cute aggression, Sun bent at the waist and reached forward to pinch both of Mari’s smiling cheeks at once, much to the girl’s chagrin.

“Sun?! How could you!” she said, feeling betrayed that her friend played along a bit too well as to treat her like a small child. She reached up, grasping his wrists and silencing the golden bells there. “You’re it now…” Mari said, reminding them that they were still playing a game. Sophie cracked a smile, believing them right off the bat due to the sheer resemblance she saw between all the Emily’s.

“Yes—” Sophie laughed, watching the maliciously compliant little girl interact with Sun. “—she’s cute. Looks just like the boss and Charlie. Are you having fun, Mari?” 

“This is my second favorite place to be. But Sun’s one of my best friends…,” Mari admitted, now rubbing her face into the soft fabric of Sun’s stripped pants in a way that made Sophie's heart melt. 

It took literally all of Sun’s willpower not to scoop Mari up and squeeze her until she was out of breath from the affection. To be called one of her best friends was the highest praise in Sun’s book. He patted the top of her head, slightly mussing up her shaggy waves in a way that framed the cherubic face even more adorably.

“Like Mari said, we’re playing tag!” the Daycare attendant exclaimed, looking to the guards expectantly. “Do you want to play with us?! It’s always more fun with more people!”

“Uh, well we're kind of on a schedule,” Mike explained. It’s not that he didn’t want to play tag—he was more worried about Ennard’s weird obsession that might entice them to stick an eyeball out of the ball pit to watch the fun. If Sophie caught sight of the creature lurking in the depths below, she’d probably freak out. With an apologetic smile, Michael shrugged up at Sun. “Next time, for sure; I’m technically in a tour right now for my new job, but we wanted to check in on you.”

“How sweet!” Sun gasped, completely unfazed by Michael’s denial of playtime. “I’m doing just great! And so is Moon! I’m sure he’d say hi to you both if he could!”

Under the pit, Ennard's wires shuttered and stalled with having almost gotten their prize. It was like Mike had developed a sixth sense when it came to their attempts at grasping for him. Despite his wishes not to play, Ennard knew he would be back later. Then they could chase each other down like old times once more…

As Sophie rose herself out and carefully over the lip of the rainbow river, she told the Daycare Attendant: “I’ll be back before my shifts up, Sun! I’ll bring some Fizzy-Faz to make up for it. We still have to get back to the security office for midday clearance.”

It was a rule from the start that all personnel that clocked in had to be accounted for by midday. A safety precaution that Mr. Emily took very serious. She was hardly worried about the boss’s daughter. The girl was in the safest part of the Pizzaplex. With its own lockdown features and 7 foot tall animatronic, people were hesitant to break rules under their charge.

“WAIT!” Mari shouted, jumping and grasping onto Sophie’s arm which had nearly been enough to make her panic right then and there. “I need your walkie talkie, please!” Before Sophie could answer, the communication device was slipped off her belt loop.

“Dad? It’s Mari! Do you copy?” she asked over the thick static.

A short pause followed by some feedback static was the only barrier between Sam's confused-sounding answer. “Uh—Mari? Yes, what’s wrong?”

“DRINK SOME WATER! You’ve been drinking too much coffee,” she shouted knowingly into the receiver. There was a long pause then after, followed by a heavy sigh on the radio.

“I’ve got water. Thank you, sweetheart,” Sam replied, probably relieved there wasn’t a real issue.

Mari then clipped the walkie back onto Sophie’s belt, leaving the security guard slightly dazed at the young girl’s responsible demeanor. Hell, she might make a good security guard when she’s older…

Michael had to stifle his laugh by turning it into a rather furious coughing fit. It was sweet to see Mari still fully invested in her role as the security bot of her earlier days, but imagining the look on Sam’s exhausted face when she called him “dad” so casually was enough to set off a fit of poorly-disguised giggles. Sophie would never know how absolutely bizarre their whole twisted “family” situation was…

“Thanks for helping keep your dad in check, Mari,” Michael eventually managed to say with a roll of his eyes. “God knows he needs it…”

“She’s so thoughtful!” Sun praised, jumping on the opportunity to shower his new friend in even more affection. This time he did pick her up, gently rubbing his face against hers while being careful of the bright spokes signaling his sunny disposition.

“Best mini-security guard around, that’s for sure,” Michael agreed, flashing a grin up at the pair. He then stretched his arms out, miming the action of cracking his joints as he looked to his coworker. “I guess we should head for that check-in?”

“Yes, yes, you don’t want Sammy to worry!” Sun encouraged, setting Mari back on the floor so she could say her goodbyes. Before she got the chance to though, the Daycare attendant crossed his arms overtop each other and grasped one of Michael and Sophie’s hands in his own, shaking them vigorously. “It was soooo good to see you! We have to play a game next time you both come around!”

Mari looked over the moon. She seemed to love the attention from others, and especially from one of the animatronics she chose to spend a lot of her time with. Until very recently, she couldn't express herself much. A living doll limited to its mask. Thanks to her creator, she could experience the world as the others did and finally share all that she knew. 

Sophie, none the wiser to the twisted monster in the pit could eagerly shake Sun's hand carefree. There was nothing amiss at all in the Pizzaplex today. Sam would be happy to hear that after so many nights of constant stress... which might give her some the opportunity to do some snooping without anyone watching too closely. Though Michael knew his stuff—she would have to be careful around him when maneuvering the security cameras and other employees later.

“I'll bring a board game next time I come on by, Sun,” Sophie promised, knowing soon it would be her turn to watch the Daycare. Turning to Michael, she nodded her way to the door with a casual smile. “We're making pretty good time today—how are you liking the Pizzaplex so far?”

“It's growing on me,” Michael replied with a little smile that was hard to read. With a final wave, he followed Sophie to the exit. As he crossed the threshold of the doorway, he swore his slightly advanced hearing picked up on plastic shuffling from the ball pit, as well as a near-imperceptible “Wait, silly!” from Sun. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes with all his might, Michael picked up the pace until they reached the entrance lobby, upon which he slowed again for Sophie to take the lead.

It wasn't yet time to come out, Sun and Mari had to practically wrestle him back below the plastic balls. Sophie would look over her shoulder at this display with the expectations of seeing them messing around playfully. As Ennard sucked Mari into the pit below, making her break into a giggling fit, Sophie smiled at how much Mari was enjoying herself. Completely clueless as to the happenings of the Pizzaplex, she was quick to guide Mike back out and into the main atrium where people remained busy in order to have the place opened on schedule.

“It sure is eventful around here though,” Michael commented as he saw some staff members bustling around. He knew it was nowhere near what it'd be like when the place was actually open for business, and admittedly he was glad he worked mostly night shift. Over the years he'd gotten used to the relative quiet of darkness.

...Well, when he wasn't cursing in terror from bloodthirsty animatronics at the office window, that is. Soon enough they'd made it to the check-in location, where a few other staff members were milling about. Michael looked around for Sam, wondering if he'd make an appearance—clearly he was awake from Mari's recent short, chiding call.

Currently, something huge was being taken on a dolly and into the freight elevator by a few workers and Mr. Emily himself. Whatever it was had been covered by a large canvas sheet, wrapped in hooking bungee cords to keep the canvas from slipping off the odd shape. Samuel was currently holding the elevator, allowing the people helping it upstairs to fit inside the lift without it shutting on them. When Sam spotted the pair walking in tandem, he waved to them.

“How's the tour going, guys?” he asked, seeming in a better mood than the last week as a whole.

“Good!” Michael replied, staring at the elevator curiously as the large object was finagled inside. Another animatronic, perhaps? There were still a few more to get up and running, after all… 

“Sophie’s been taking me on her daily route,” Michael elaborated, sticking his hands on his pockets and slouching casually to the side. “We stopped by all the animatronics to check in, too—DJ, the Glamrocks and Sun. They seem to be doing great!” A corner of his mouth twitched up in a knowing smirk.

“Also, Sophie got to meet your daughter—Mari’s certainly keeping Sun entertained.” Mike tilted his head. “How’s the coffee to water consumption ratio by the way, boss?”

Sam should’ve known that was the reason he received such a strange call coming from Mari; it’d really thrown the employees he had asked to help him for a loop. One remarked how they didn't know he had a daughter, while the other had spoken up to say they thought he had two. It made answering Mari just the slightest bit difficult. Then again, he was so tired, he could deadpan a lie fairly easily.

Sam chuckled, finding it weird how he had to pretend he had two kids—one being his sister, and the other a robot designed to protect both himself and said girl...

“Was she being good? And I'm drinking more water than I was before, if that's helpful,” Sam replied in a cheeky way.

“Oh, she was just fine. The Daycare attendant loves her, predictably,” Sophie said with a shrug. Sun loved all the kids, of course, but she reckoned he probably had a soft spot for his creator's daughter.

“I think she’d live in the Daycare if she could, to be honest,” Michael chuckled. If Mari could have a permanent slumber party on that padded floor surrounded by all her friends new and old, he just knew she’d be the happiest little robot in the world. While he couldn’t offer her that, Michael could give her a chance to experience something potentially just as exciting… He’d have to stop by on his way out to see if she’d be up for an adventure.

“Anyway, am I allowed to ask what you’re up to, or is it top secret?” Michael inquired, tilting his head towards the elevator as Sam let the doors close after staff finally got the mysterious object inside.

Sam looked around him and as the handy men loaded his project into the lift, he would let the door shut before saying anything—leaving quite the suspenseful beat for Sophie and Michael to endure. Then, he waved them closer and whispered just for their ears only. “It was a project I’d been working on for a while before this whole fiasco started. You guys remember Foxy the Pirate, right?”

Sophie’s eyes couldn’t get any bigger. Another employee passed them by to make use of the lift and Sam gently herded them both away while Sophie asked in awe: “Wait—was that why we couldn’t go to Parts & Service?”

“Mhm; partly,” Sam said, dodging her eye contact by pretending to look at his watch. “We are switching the department, however. I don’t know what we’re going to use that room for next. Maybe a break room—we just need more space for the newest animatronic line.”

The explanation eased Sophie’s conscience a little. The more she learned, the more most of this sounded like it was in the works for a very long time, and not just a spin on last ditch cover up.

“I’ll be powering him on shortly, but he needs to charge. I think someone accidentally left his roaming mode on sometime last week… You guys think Roxy’s ready to meet her brother?” he asked, hoping Roxy wouldn’t take it harshly to have a family member performing in the band with her.

“Holy shit,” Michael murmured under his breath, followed by a whispery chuckle. He knew it was coming, yet somehow the announcement of Foxy the Pirate Fox in the official lineup was still surprising. A bright smile lit up his face as the initial shock wore off. 

“Sammy, this is awesome! And I think Roxy’s going to be just fine.” He snickered, lips twitching into more of a smirk. “She’ll have someone else to get into trouble with."

As way of explanation for his reaction to a refurbished children’s character, Michael told Sophie: “Foxy used to be my favorite as a kid.”

Sophie could see the way Michael brightened when speaking about the character and his hardwired personality. It gave away exactly who Mike’s favorite was. Sophie was interested in seeing how the animatronic was going to stack up against the already established cast.

“Foxy was so cool—” Sophie agreed, seeming to be a big of a fangirl herself of the rowdy cartoon pirate. “—did you tell any of the Glamrocks yet?”

With a finger pressed over his lips, Sam made a soft shushing sound.

“No, keep it a surprise until tonight. I’m going to get the band all together then introduce the old Fox. Mike, come up to my office after you’re done with check-ins.” Sam flashed him a self-satisfied smirk, taking pride in the thing he had created for the brand new line up. “I want you to be the first to see his design. I think you’ll appreciate the work I put into it.”

“Will do, boss-man,” Michael replied with an overzealous salute. He was desperately trying not to laugh, his movements seeming a bit manic for no apparent reason. It was simultaneously so ironic and entertaining that Mike already knew about the Glamrock Foxy model in a more intimate way than anyone but its AI would ever get to. He'd have to explain—and apologize on everyone's behalf—to Sam later this evening why the fox had disappeared from its hidden storage and “free roamed” over the weekend...

But even though they'd been bonded for the better part of twenty-four hours, Michael still hadn't gotten to meet Foxy's programmed personality like he'd done when hitching a ride with Freddy. A flush of childlike excitement filled his eyes as he thought of meeting what was sure to be the friendliest iteration of the fox to date. He had a few more things to do first, though.

“So it's back to the security office after this, right?” Michael asked Sophie, not intending to rush her but simply to indicate he'd like to get a move-on now that they'd confirmed they were still alive and well (to Sam's satisfaction, at least).

Sam may have given him a cockeyed glance. Michael's sudden bursts of mania usually meant there was something strange afoot. Though with nothing else to go by, he departed with an equally ironic salute to his two guards. With Sophie's attention back fully to Mike and her job, she grinned.

“You want to go see the Fox, huh?” she asked almost teasingly. Before he could answer her, seriously or otherwise, she raised her phone from her pocket and checked the time. “Yep—so looking around everywhere, if you're not distracted, should take about an hour.”

It was time to head on back to the main office. Sophie made conversation as she led them back to home base. “I don't blame you, though. You're lucky to be helping Sam work on those things. And I mean you... made it so far; so to speak. He must want your opinion on it as a mechanic.”

Clearly Sophie had paid attention to their introductions during the meeting and was fairly aware of the vast number of safety protocols they normally need for doing work on an animatronic.

Michael's enthusiastic smile slipped into one that was a little more subdued as he followed after his new coworker.

“Well, unlike most franchises, the owners of Fazbear Entertainment have always been rather hands-on,” he said. Contrary to his chipper personality moments before, Michael's tone was relatively flat. Not wanting her to perceive this as him being haughty, he was quick to add: “I learned a lot from my predecessors; probably more than ever wanted to know, honestly.”

He gave a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But it's definitely useful when animatronics go on the fritz like they did this weekend. I really don't mind helping out with that sort of stuff if anyone ever needs it. To be honest, it can get kind of boring sitting in that security office all night...”

Not that I want any action—PLEASE let things stay calm for the foreseeable future... Michael silently prayed to whoever was listening.

Sophie nodded, taking in what he said. It would probably be useful to listen to him about the history of this place given how vested he was in the company from what she assumed was a young age. He was related to the original owners, too.

“Tell me about it. For the most part, the band and everyone else reminds people to behave. The day shift is here pretty much for making sure dads don't get into fights at Monty Golf and throw a putter through the set props...,” Sophie remarked so specifically, one would probably think she was speaking for a real experience. “But usually people behave. Unless they want to get shaken down by a bunch of giant robotic animals dressed like the Twisted Sister front-man...”

“Mm, yeah, I'd hate to be on any of those robots' bad sides,” Michael responded with a little hum. His eyes shifted around, unable to stay on Sophie for a moment as the previous weekend flashed through his mind in rapid succession. Oh how far those animatronics had come from their dirty, broken shambles as they chased down an innocent child with the intent of ripping him apart limb by limb...

A small shiver ran through his body, though Michael ignored this as they stepped into the safety of the central hub yet again. He stretched out his arms with a sigh, then plopped down in one of the swivel chairs and used the momentum to do a 360-degree spin, braking with his foot to grin up at Sophie.

“Thanks for showing me around,” he told her, already stealing a glance at the security feeds as was habit. When there was a set of monitors and live camera feeds in front of him, Michael had to watch them. Managing to reign in his gaze, he leaned casually back in the chair and looked to his coworker again. “I'll be sure to reach out if I need while I adjust to things around here.”

“No problem! I look forward working with you, Mike,” Sophie replied with a thumbs-up, before grabbing her coat from one of the storage lockers. Her footsteps disappeared down the hallway while Michael's phone buzzed in his back pocket. Charlie had been trying to reach him through text. There were several photo attachments.

Mike it's Charlie. How do you use clippers?

Like the electric ones for hair

OK I figured it out never mind.

OK maybe not. duck

I meant Duck not duck

The texts became decreasingly verbose as Charlie panicked. Then, there was an album, a photographic progression of a haircut Charlie was apparently giving to Gregory. There was hair everywhere as a shaggy mullet was now cut into the kid’s head. He stood on the bathroom sink, glaring into the camera as Charlie took pictures of him. She eventually figured out how to take a selfie in the ending photo, managing to get the boy to smile after styling the old school cut.

“No fucking way,” Michael chuckled to himself as he scrolled through the pictures. They were ridiculous, the lot of them...

Out of all potential hairstyles, she'd gone with a mullet? Well, it'd certainly be hard for the Smiths to recognize Gregory at first glance, that's for sure. Plus, Michael couldn't deny his soft spot for the style... Pulling up the virtual keypad, he typed a response as quick as his fingers would go.

Sorry, was getting a tour from Sophie; all done now. Gregory looks adorable... don't tell him I said that

I'm hanging out for a bit then coming back w/a surprise... be there in 1-2 hours, & we can go to the Pizzaplex together for night shift later

With that Michael slipped his phone back in his pocket, though he'd barely gotten to roll his chair into the prime camera-watching position before it buzzed again.

***

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[aung-khant-kyaw]

How Viral Memes are Shaping U.S Elections and Public Opinion

Back in the early ages of the internet, memes were just supposed to be fun, mischievous and shareable jokes that many young users used to express themselves. But in recent years, memes have become such a powerful tool to use even for business or politics. The most notable example of this is how in recent U.S. elections, politicians use memes in their promotional campaigns to raise polls, especially among younger voters. In this blog, we are going to look at how meme culture is growing to be a powerful weapon to harness if you want to attract more attention online.

How the Internet Changed Political Communication

Because of the internet, we have shifted the way we engage in politics. While traditional media is still alive and around, younger generations, especially people younger than 35, Millennials and Gen Z, are getting more political news from social media platforms like Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, Reddit and even YouTube. Memes are a huge part of today's online world, offering either long, detailed video essays on platforms like YouTube or quick attention-grabbing content such as memes.

Why Memes Click with Young Voters

First of all they are short. With so much information and posts out there, memes offer a fast and often fun way to break down complex political topics. Second of all relatable. Political memes tap into everyday frustrations or experiences, making politics feel more connected to real life. And finally they are easily shareable. Memes spread quickly, making it easy for political ideas to go viral on different social platforms.

Politicians Are Jumping on the Meme Bandwagon

Seeing how effective memes are, politicians have started using them in their communication strategies. This marks a huge shift in how they connect with younger voters.

Barack Obama’s 2008 campaign was one of the first to really use social media well. This has made other politicians hop in the meme whip to use on digital political campaigns. Now, we see politicians like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (famous on the internet as AOC) taking it further, using platforms like Instagram and Twitch to engage with voters. AOC mixes internet humor with serious politics, making her relatable to Millennials and Gen Z.

The Two Sides of Political Memes

Memes can shape a politician’s public image, but this can go both ways. They can make politicians seem more down-to-earth and relatable, or they can dig their own grave by accidentally making their past mistakes come out and harm their reputation.

Making Politicians Relatable

Bernie Sanders has become a stable in the political meme world, with images and videos like “I am once again asking for your financial support” and his viral mittens moment at Biden’s inauguration. These memes showed Sanders as authentic and down-to-earth, even appealing to people who might not agree with his politics.

Another great example of a politician connecting with voters through memes and social media is Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC). She frequently hops on Instagram Live to talk directly to her followers while doing everyday things like cooking dinner or getting ready for bed. These casual, relatable moments have been meme’d endlessly, with screenshots and clips from her live streams spreading across platforms. The combination of her authenticity, humor, and openness has made AOC a favorite among younger voters. Memes from these streams reinforce the idea that she's not just a politician but someone you could hang out with, and that helped her build a strong connection with her fun base.

Another example is Hillary Clinton's attempt to reach younger voters with her infamous "Pokémon Go to the polls" line. While the intention was there, it instantly became a meme because of how forced and out of touch it sounded . The internet took it and memed the living world out of it, highlighting her struggle to connect with Gen Z and Millennials.

When Memes Backfire

On the other side, memes can also be used to mock politicians. Donald Trump’s interview with Jonathan Swan on Axios became a meme when people focused on what they saw as his poor response to the COVID-19 pandemic. These memes made the interview go viral and the video made its impact way beyond its initial broadcast.

And then there’s Joe Biden, who has had plenty of meme-able moments. One of his infamous blunders was when he said he could sum up China in "one word," and then proceeded to say something totally incomprehensible and totally not "one word". That moment, along with other slip-ups, fed into memes questioning his ability to lead and questioning his health especially related to dementia. In fact, Biden recently dropped out of the 2024 election, and many believe it’s partly due to the accumulation of these viral stumbles. The memes, like ones showing him mixing up numbers or fumbling sentences, stuck with people and shaped how they saw him as a candidate.

Memes as Political Game Changers

Memes aren’t just for laughs—they can actually influence political outcomes. They spark conversations, spread messages, and get voters, especially younger ones, involved.

During the 2016 election, Trump’s campaign got a boost from meme makers who helped make his anti-establishment image. Memes like “Covfefe” and “God Emperor Trump” spread his message on platforms like 4chan, Reddit, and Twitter .

In the 2020 election, both Trump and Biden’s campaigns used memes to rally their supporters. Memes about Biden’s speaking style or Trump’s tweets helped shape how the public viewed their leadership.

The Future of Political Conversations

Looking ahead, it’s clear that memes are more than just online jokes. They’re becoming important tools in politics, influencing how people vote, shaping public opinion, and giving politicians new ways to connect with younger audiences.

For Millennials and Gen Z, memes offer an easy entry point into politics, making complex issues more relatable. As meme culture keeps evolving, its influence on U.S. elections is likely to grow, becoming a part of digital politics.

While we still are not sure about the true impact of memes on political conversations, one thing for sure is a meme can be more powerful than we think.

References

Cillizza, C., 2020. 'The absolutely remarkable social media power of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez', CNN [online], 24 July. Available at: https://edition.cnn.com/2020/07/24/politics/aoc-ted-yoho-cspan/index.html [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Donovan, J., 2019. 'How memes got weaponized: A short history', MIT Technology Review [online], 24 October. Available at: https://www.technologyreview.com/2019/10/24/132228/political-war-memes-disinformation/ [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Douglas, E., 2022. 'Texas GOP's voting meme shows how Trump-style messaging wins internet's attention', The Texas Tribune [online], 8 January. Available at: https://www.texastribune.org/2022/01/08/texas-gop-voting-covid-meme-trump/ [Accessed 28 October 2024].

King, A., 2023. 'How meme culture is engaging Gen Z in politics', Canvas8 [online], 3 January. Available at: https://www.canvas8.com/library/reports/2023/01/03/why-satirical-memes-have-gen-z-talking-about-politics [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Mina, A.X., 2018. 'Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez Has Mastered the Politics of Digital Intimacy', Harvard Kennedy School [online], 30 November. Available at: https://cyber.harvard.edu/story/2018-11/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-has-mastered-politics-digital-intimacy [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Ossorio, M.A., 2024. 'Do memes affect our political ideas?', Universitat Oberta de Catalunya [online]. Available at: https://www.uoc.edu/en/news/2024/memes-affect-political-ideas [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Pew Research Center, 2018. 'Social media outpaces print newspapers in the U.S. as a news source', Pew Research Center [online], 10 December. Available at: https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2018/12/10/social-media-outpaces-print-newspapers-in-the-u-s-as-a-news-source/ [Accessed 28 October 2024].

Costa, P.O., n.d. 'Barack Obama's use of the Internet is transforming political communication', Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona [online].

[paleparearchive]

Soothing Singing Voice

Renoir's 1st initial 3★ story (1/2) ( 1 - 2 )

Location: entrance (morning) | Characters: Renoir, Sisley

Renoir: (Fufu, that was fun. And the ladies were nice too…)

Sisley: … Phew.

Renoir: Ah, Sisley. You had a part-time job this morning, didn't you? Good job.

Sisley: Ah… Renoir. Thank you. I see you were out too.

Renoir: Yes, I was out shopping with some ladies I met the other day. There were so many nice things, we couldn't stop looking.

Sisley: Fufu, sounds like you had a lot of fun. I'm glad.

Renoir: (If it were Bazille, he would've had a wrinkle between his eyebrows and said "Aren't you bothering people?”... If it were Courbet, I'm sure he'd let out a sigh and say, "You've been playing around again?”.)

… Hey, Sisley. I've been playing around again... You don't find that appalling?

Sisley: Fufu, I don't. I think it's very typical of you.

Renoir: I see…

(Sisley basically never denies anything. He's open to everything… Fufu, I feel at home with Sisley.)

Oh yeah, how about we have some tea now? I bought some nice tea leaves from a lady I met today.

Sisley: Ah… Alright, then should I invite Monet and Bazille too?

Renoir: That would be okay, but… now I might be in the mood for a cup of tea with you alone.

Sisley: …

Renoir: Sisley?

Sisley: Ah, sorry. Did you say something?

Renoir: I said I'd like to have tea with you alone... Are you tired, by any chance?

Sisley: N-No! I'm fine.

Renoir: Hmm, You're so quick to say you're fine. I'm not sure I can trust you. Is that the truth?

Sisley: … Just a bit. I think it's because I've been working part-time these past few days.

Renoir: That's why I haven't seen you for the last few days. You should loosen up, you know? Why don't you get some rest?

Sisley: Of course, I know. I was actually supposed to take the day off today… but suddenly they said they were short on people, so I had to take a shift.

Renoir: (He's always been the kind of person who can't say no when asked to do something. That's what I like about Sisley, though.)

I know I'm the one who invited you, but shouldn't you take it easy?

Sisley: It's okay. I don't have any plans after this.

Renoir: But you have another part-time job tomorrow, right?

Sisley: About that, well…

Renoir: What job?

Sisley: … Construction sites, restaurant kitchens, and then maybe handing out flyers.

Renoir: That many!? And they all require physical strength…

No matter how much you want to do, you'll collapse. Don't push yourself. Come on, let's go back to our room. I'll bring some restful aroma there later. If there is anything else I can do, please let me know.

Sisley: … Anything is fine?

Renoir: What about it? The only thing I can do is to ask young ladies in town out on a date.

Sisley: Oh, Renoir… Bazille will scold you again if you keep talking like that, you know?

Renoir: Oops, that would be a problem. Let's not joke about this. So, is there anything you would like me to do, Sisley?

Sisley: Well... Oh, I'd love to hear you sing. That might cheer me up.

Renoir: Sing?

Sisley: Yes. You were a stage singer during our art school days, weren't you?

Renoir: Aaah… Come to think of it, you, Monet and Bazille came to listen to me. Fufu, I remember you drawing pictures of me on stage as a model.

Sisley: Right, right! Then we would ask you to decide whose painting was the best. I still have the pictures from that period. They're a precious memory.

Renoir: Oh really? Typical of you, Sisley.

Sisley: I haven't heard you sing since that time, and it's been a while since I've had the chance to do so. And you have a beautiful singing voice, so I'm sure it'll help... But maybe not?

Renoir: Hmm, well…

[ofmoonlitmagic]

Everything about her was intoxicating, especially like this. Each one feeding on the actions of the other, and Briggs had no intention of stopping anything. Bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, he could hear the rate of her heart shift as her breath gave the louder hint of success. "I think I will," he murmured, leaning back only far enough to allow his gaze to take in the view of her, "because I want what's being offered." His lips pulled upward, eyes flickering in equal parts desire and amusement, "then we'll give the ghosts and our new friend a show..." His head dipped down, mouth parted slightly against her neck, aiming to push her a little before he put the cloaking spell on them when the resident killjoy decided to make herself known. With a groan, he grumbled, "it's mutual."

He knew this laugh well, as though it'd been curated and patented for him. It was truly his favorite sound in the world, and it was always the sign he'd done something extra special: made her feel free. It was the sound of their happiest times, and the one sound he'd wanted to hear more than any other when she was gone. Pressing his face briefly into her shoulder as he did nothing more than listen to it, memorize it again. It almost felt as though nothing had ever been wrong. As he pulled back again to meet her gaze, he enjoyed winding her up a little, the perfect payback for earlier. "You said it yourself, I don't want to hold you back from your final girl dreams, do I?" He kept up the taunt until he broke, even more laughter rising as she promised to sacrifice the realtor for her own survival. "That's kinda hot, me and the other ghosts will be enjoying every bit of that." He nodded as they continued to joke at this lady's expense, "oh, it's definitely for us." Making a face at her next suggestion, he wasn't sure he'd put it past the dragon actually. "Is she even ready to share you yet?" He teased, "sometimes I'm surprised she lets me take you home."

As they took those few steps, he mumbled her words as if it made it reality, "an innocent basement." There wasn't anything to fear, they'd obviously just made this up in their heads. However, lights aren't supposed to swing like that on their own. He laughed most of the way up as they were lucky to not end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, maybe through the grip on his hand alone. "Someone might need me to make it to final girl status, huh?" As he shut the door and its ghosts out with it, he exhaled out some of the nervous energy, muttering more under his breath than to anyone, "I hate basements." Turning his attention back to his wife, that was an easy answer, "she's gotta be messing with us."

The realtor looked ready to drink Rousseau's dry, but they were still having the time of their lives. The look of pure excitement and bliss on Billie's face was all he needed to continue. "Goblin house it is!" The sighs were becoming less and less hidden behind an illusion of professionalism.

Getting the next address before climbing back in the lambo, it was a quick drive--and a short reprieve from the realtor--but today was all about them, and it truly couldn't have been a better day. "What do you think? This gonna be even grander than the others because Zera and Klaus are probably together right now one-upping or do you think we're gonna get an actually viable option? I'm thinking gate made of gold."

Billie knew exactly what she was doing and that confidence was further accentuated by Briggs’ responsiveness towards her. The way that his eyes fell between hers and her lips, the way his breath was labored and his ability to form a coherent response seemed hindered. Oh yeah – she was enjoying the hell out of this. As his fingers pressed against the thin material of her top, there was hardly any barrier between skin to skin as her lips grazed against his as she released a steadying breath herself. Her invitation was becoming less a temptation and more of a need as his hips held her against the wall and her body arched into his touch, the dominance shifting from one to the other as for a moment, she had forgotten where they were. “Don’t tempt me” she teased, her words becoming a little more serious and her lips twitched at his taunt, “you married a banshee – there’s not a hope in hell of that.” Billie’s voice had dropped to an intimate whisper, a breath knotting in her chest as she honestly was ready to say to hell with it – before, the realtor cleared her throat loudly at the foot of the stairs – imminent to bring Billie back into reality. “She so hates us.”

This kind of laughter was purely for Briggs – the sound unique in its own right, a melody of pure elation that hummed throughout their surroundings without a single care in the world. He was the only person on this earth capable of coaxing that sound from her. Every single inch of her frame felt light – completely free of any burdens. A concept that was entirely unfamiliar for her, but craved with everything that she had. Billie practically dissolved into his touch as his arms enclosed around her, feeling safer than even she believed possible as she held onto him with an equal intensity. Knowing exactly where his taunt was heading, her eyes widened and it was her turn to mouth ‘don’t you dare’, before of course – her husband dared and addressed whatever forces they were playing their jokes off of. “Now you’re just asking to be dragged by your ankles.” Addressing the ‘ghosts’ herself, she bellowed “he’s kidding – he’s totally kidding” before glancing expressively back to Briggs, speaking in a strained whisper “babe – don’t you dare la llorona us.” Before, her laughter returned, “nuh-uh, the second things turn ugly, i’m throwing her to the ghosts. It’s final girl baby – not final girls.” Her laughter was interrupted by the kiss and she certainly wasn’t mad about it as she leaned into his embrace, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt and tugging him closer, enthralled by his promise. “You and me, baby.” Only when it was necessary to come up for air, did she and her lips tugged into an immediate smile given his taunt, “maybe the recommendations are for us” she taunted, “or just a ploy from Zera to try and get grandkids.” Speaking against his lips, she grinned “– i’m kidding.” 

Given the amount of fun they were clearly having, Billie was certain they were about to end up on some realtor blacklist – as theirs was clearly unimpressed by their methods of house viewing. The unamused glances hadn’t gone unnoticed and the image of such only encouraged Billie’s enjoyment of the whole thing. Encouraging their mischievous behaviour. 

“There’s building suspense and being paralysed with fear, baby” she teased, her lips twitching as she attempted to suppress her smile – but even she had to admit that she will filled with nervous energy now, gripping onto him tighter. “It’s just an innocent basement, right? How bad can it be?” If only she knew. 

As the lightbulb began to swing, there was a clatter which sounded like a window closing – which the rational explanation would be a racoon escaping or something similar, but to Billie it was absolutely haunted and she would not be walking out of there with some malevolent spirit attached to them. With their luck that was sure as shit the way things would be heading. No movement was rapid enough and clumsy as she was, she practically tripped over her own feet as she backed out of that basement ten times normal speed. His taunt barely registered against the ferocity of her heart beating in her ears, but she did manage to laugh even if the sound was slightly breathless – despite being at the top of the steps, she continued to back away down the hall, still pulling against his hand as the realtor offered an audible sigh. “We’re the hot couple who survive, I already told you – you’re not getting away from me that easily” she teased, thankful when the door was closed with a sharp thud. Billie was still holding onto Briggs, practically on top of him and from some angles, absolutely using him as a human shield as laughter once again tumbled from her lips. “She’s definitely screwing with us, right?”

As the realtor explained that there was another house to view, Billie fought to hold onto her giggle, releasing a slow and steady breath to try and calm herself as she nodded – her hand still holding onto her husbands “if that place is as fun as this one, count me in. Hey maybe the next ones got goblins instead of ghosts."

[ikehoe]

A Mess in the Kitchen | Beezlebub x MC [SMUT, 18+ only]

TW: Smut! 18+ only please. Cunningulus is performed on MC and Beel is (really) good at it. 

A/N: This is my first smut-fic ever, so please bear with me! I was fuelled by my love for Beezlebub from the Obey Me series (though Satan is a close second for me). 

WC: 3,480 

*beep*

*beep*

*beep* 

What in the world is that sound? You thought, grumbling as an incessant chirping noise coming from your bedside table rudely disturbed you from your sleep. 

You had been in the midst of a steamy dream featuring the one and only Avatar of Gluttony, Beezlebub, also known as Beel. 

It all started when Mammon had managed to persuade you to ask Beezlebub for a few extra dollars so he could place a bet on some devildom sports team, or something else equally useless. Initially, you refused, hellbent on cutting off Mammon from his terrible gambling addiction, but the convincing demon had gotten the best of you. After many hours of begging, pleading, and false promises, you ended up agreeing just to get him out of your room. 

That’s how you ended up knocking on Beel’s room right before bed, gently biting your lip in nervousness. The orange-haired demon was usually fairly easy to handle, but you knew he’d see right through your excuse and know instantly the request for extra cash was for Mammon. 

 “Come in,” a deep voice called out from beyond the oak doors. 

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open only to find one of the most exhilarating sights you’ve seen since having the (mis)fortune of landing in Devildom. 

 Beel stood in the centre of his room, sweat glistening off his naked chest and loose shorts hung low around his waist. He had 50-lb dumbbells in each hand and was curling both from alternating arms with ease. His fiery-hair was pressed to his forehead and you could see his chest rising up and down in effort. 

“Oi! What’cha doing here so late at night?” Beel asked cheerfully while setting down his dumbbells. His handsome face broke into a grin as he gave you a quick once-over. “Nice pyjamas by the way.” 

“I--… I--… I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were … preoccupied,” you stammered, immediately shifting your eyes to the ground. 

You had heard from Mammon, Levi, and Asmodeus just how diligent Beel was when it came to working out, but up until that point you had never seen it in action. It was a sight for sore eyes, and your eyes had been sore for a long time. 

 “Huh? What’re you all red for? You got a fever?” Beel asked, catching you off guard as he approached you and put a large hand up to your forehead. “You okay? Are you sick or something? Did you want me to go ask Lucifer for some medication? Is that why you’re here?” 

“No!” You squealed, backing yourself up against the demon’s heavy oak door. 

With the handsome man now centimetres away from your face, you could see his piercing violet eyes flash with concern. If it were any other situation, it would have been sweet, seeing how concerned the demon was – especially since 90% of the things he thought about were food, and when to get his next meal. After what felt like an eternity of silence of you two just staring into each others eyes, your right hand finally found the knob to the door and frantically turned it. 

“I’m… I just… I need to ask you something! I’ll tell you on Saturday!” 

 Beel furrowed his eyes as he watched your figure disappear down the hallway and around the corner. Running a hand through his damp hair, he shrugged to himself and shut his bedroom door. 

Well, I’m sure I can ask Lucifer tomorrow for some sort of medication for humans. She was definitely being weird… weirder than normal. 

***

With a groan, you were jolted back to present day and the frustrating chirping sound coming from your phone. Rubbing your eyes to wipe the sleep from them, you reached over to grab your device only to realize in horror that Beel had sent you 4 text messages. 

 Hey, [Y/N]. 

 Are you awake yet? I thought you wanted to ask me something today. 

Aren’t you coming down for Pancake Day? How am I supposed to make 20 pancakes for myself without help? 

 Hello? You’ve been acting kinda weird for a couple days. Are you ignoring me? Are you feeling okay? 

 This was turning out to be a terrible day for you already. Although, Beel had a cheerful exterior and seemed like one of the most simple-minded brothers, there wasn’t much you could get by him – this included. 

The truth was that ever since you saw him working out you couldn’t get him out of your mind. Specifically, you couldn’t get the image of his sweaty, glistening, chiseled body out of your mind. It didn’t help that you already had a major crush on the demon, having spent many hours together slaving over the stove in an attempt to appease his endless appetite. 

 Hearing your phone begin to ring, you jumped out of bed and answered Beel’s call while attempting to get dressed with your free hand. 

 “Hey Beel! Sorry, I’m on my way. I overslept! I promise I’ll be there in five minutes!” You squealed into the phone, hanging up before Beel even had a chance to respond. 

 After a frantic five minutes of rushing to get ready, you ran into the kitchen with your breath heaving. 

 “I’m so sorry, Beel!” 

 “There you are! What’s going on with you? I thought you were about to leave me hanging.” Beel grinned, gesturing to the mixing bowls and baking utensils already laid out on the counter. It seemed as though the demon had done a fair amount of prep work so the two of you could get started on baking as quickly as possible. 

 You looked over at Beel and cursed yourself as you felt your heart rate begin to speed up. Despite the handsome devil being fully clothed in his parka and black tee, all you could imagine was his chiseled body underneath. After a numerous amount of apologies on your part, and further teasing from Beel, the two of you began to work up a storm in the kitchen. However, what was once an extremely innocent activity between two friends seemed to be extra sexually-charged today. 

Normally, the heat of the kitchen wouldn’t bug you so much, but with the combination of Beel hanging around you so closely and trying to get you to lick batter off the whisk and the heat of the oven, it was absolutely sweltering. You wiped your arm on your brow and fanned yourself in a futile attempt to cool down. After a couple minutes, you resorted to just tying up your tank top above your midriff, relishing in the cool air against your stomach. 

 If it were any of the other brothers, you probably wouldn’t have dared to be so revealing. With Beel, with the exception of the occasional harmless flirting you two did, you had the utmost faith in him. He never failed to make you feel protected and safe – almost too safe. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t tried to tease Beel before to see if you could get him to reach his breaking point. The closest you’d gotten was when the two of you had gone on an outing to the human world to find the latest manga release for Levi. You’d intentionally worn your shortest skirt and most revealing top to see if you could catch Beel checking you out, only to garner too much attention from annoying perverts and lecherous freaks. 

What you didn’t notice at the time was Beel’s eyes trailing up and down your body when you weren’t looking. Not only that, the tall demon was shooting daggers from his eyes at any man daring enough to look at you while he was beside him. Beel watched, eyes glazed over as you began to lift your shirt and swiftly tied it into a knot above around your ribcage. 

“Are you hot?” Beel asked stupidly, mentally kicking himself for sounding like Stupidmammon for a second. 

Of course she’s hot, you idiot. Why else would she randomly tie her shirt up?Don’t read too much into it, Beel. He chided himself, tearing his eyes away from your figure. 

 “Oh, yeah. Sorry if it makes you uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s going on, the kitchen is sweltering today,” you grinned, turning to him with a bashful smile on your face. 

That’s when you noticed there was a slight flush covering Beel’s cheeks. 

Is he getting shy around me? You wondered as the demon seemed to be staring at everything else in the kitchen except you. 

Beel had vowed to befriend you, ever since the whole incident with Luke, but damn if it wasn’t hard to keep his hands off you for the past couple months. You’d been nothing but sweet to his brothers and you were always down to help him with his latest food experiment. Although there was undeniable chemistry between the two of you, he figured that you’d be more suited for someone like Lucifer. However, in the past couple weeks, it was harder and harder for him to not imagine you naked. The first time it had happened, he immediately wolfed down an entire bucket of ice cream in an attempt to distract himself, but it had only been a temporary relief. Now, with the two of you so close together in a small space, it was getting even harder. 

 Beel willed his heartrate to slow down, along with something else closer to his nether regions, and turned back to you with a breezy smile. 

“By the way, didn’t you want to ask me something a couple days ago when you barged into my room? Were you alright? You looked kinda feverish.” Beel asked, approaching you without any warning once again. 

 “Oh, I… Well… I actually… I wanted to ask you if you could lend me $200,” you stammered out. 

 “Huh?! You want me to lend you $200? For what?” Beel retorted, eyes widening incredulously. “Wait a second… It’s that sneaky bastard, Mammon, isn’t it? He managed to rope you into his latest get-rich-quick scheme and now he’s making you do his dirty work!” 

 “Er… I can’t confirm nor deny that!” You screeched in defense. “Please, Beel! He can be so annoying! He promised me that if I got you to lend him $200 he would stop asking for money for a whole month!” You clasped your hands together in front of you and tried to put on your best puppy-dog pout. There was a 50/50 chance it would work on Beel, but you’d never tried to convince the demon this way. 

Beel looked down at you, eyes wide with innocence, small hands clasped together, and cleavage threatening to spill out of your nearly see-through tank. 

 What in hell’s name is she wearing today? He wondered, eyes glazing over with lust. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but times like truly tested his restraint. Fuck… Look at her, she doesn’t even realize what she’s doing to me, does she? 

 You watched as Beel’s eyes glazed over. It didn’t seem like the demon was focusing on what you had to say anymore. In fact, his violet eyes seemed to be trained on your chest. Never in a million years would you imagine that Beel was attracted to you, especially since he seemed to be one of the brothers that hit on you the least often, but it was now or never. 

“Oh, and I wasn’t sick when I went to see you. I actually wanted to ask you about Mammon’s request that day, but something else … or someone else distracted me,” you said, murmuring the last part under your breath. 

 With a low groan, Beel trained his violet eyes back up on yours as if he was daring you to look away. “Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” He asked darkly, placing one hand behind you against the wall. The gap between you two seemed to be getting smaller and smaller by the second. “Just tell me if you don’t want this and we can pretend like nothing ever happened.” 

You bit your lip nervously and looked up at his towering form. A shiver ran through you as the demon waited expectantly for your answer. “I want this. I’ve wanted you for a while, Beel. I – mmph!” You murmured, as Beel’s lips crashed into yours with a fervor you’d never expect from him. Despite his rugged exterior, his lips were so soft and lush against yours. Your lips molded against his in a haze of passion while his free hand gripped your chin. Everything that you two had struggled to find words for seemed to be crystal clear while your lips were locked together. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” Beel murmured against your lips. 

You smirked in response and laced your fingers through his thick locks, deepening the kiss. 

Suddenly, Beel wrapped his hands around your thighs and lifted you up with ease, trapping you between the wall and his body. You could feel his large bulge press up against your crotch. If there was any chance of either of you stopping before, that chance was now long gone. His large hand palmed the soft flesh of your breast, stopping to tweak your hard nipples with his skilled fingers. 

“I want you to taste them, Beel… Please,” you begged, thrusting your chest into his large palms even more. 

“Oh fuck,” Beel cursed under his breath as he helped rid you of your flimsy tank. A second later, his hand reached around your back to quickly unhook your bra clasp. A quiet gasp came out of him as he watched your bra fall to the floor, revealing your shapely breasts and hardened peaks. “You—this – hell, you’re so fucking beautiful,” Beel stammered out in awe. 

You shyly tried to cover your chest but was stopped a second later by Beel gripping your wrists in one palm and keeping them above your head. He gently lowered himself and began to pepper your chest with soft kisses while nuzzling his nose back and forth. 

Suddenly, you felt his hot breath on the peak of your breast as he took it into his mouth and began sucking. His tongue circled your hardened peak again and again as you moaned wantonly. He switched back and forth from one breast to the other, making sure no part of your chest was left untouched. The heat and desire began to pool in your lower body. It was like every part of your body was screaming for Beel’s touch, his caress, anything he could give you. 

Breathlessly, you pulled yourself away from Beel’s lips and let out a throaty moan. “Beel, I need you now,” you whispered, looking up into his sultry gaze. 

“Yeah? My little sweet human wants me to make her feel good?” Beel cooed as he nuzzled his nose against yours. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m famished. Looks like you’ll be my first meal of the day.” Beel’s words sent heat straight to your core. 

You could feel your wetness pooling in the crotch of your lace panties as he made quick work of unzipping your pants and discarding them. 

“Mm… I love it when my meal is all ready for me.” He chuckled, trailing one finger along your moistened panties. “You’re absolutely soaked.” He dropped to his knees, wrapping your legs around his shoulders while keeping you pressed against the wall with one hand on your lower stomach. All of a sudden, you heard a loud rip and the sensation of cool air against your nether regions. 

“Wha—those were my favourite!” You cried out, looking down to find one of the most erotic sights you’ve seen. Beel had buried his nose into your ripped panties and was in the midst of taking a deep whiff, groaning deeply as the luscious scent filled his nose. 

“If you already smell this good, I can’t imagine how good you’ll taste,” he smirked. You were about to respond when you felt his long tongue gently lick from the bottom of your pussy to the top, quickly circling around your clit before drawing back. 

 “Oooh, Beel…” You moaned loudly, only to remember a second later that you two were still in the very public kitchen and anyone could walk in at any second. 

 “Baby, you’re going to have to keep quiet unless you want Asmo to come in and do some fucked up shit like film us or something,” Beel chuckled. 

You opened your mouth in shock but before you could do anything Beel had shoved your rip panties past your lips. With a smirk, he returned to his position kneeling before you on the floor and began to lick you with a fervor. With every movement of his hot and wet tongue, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming. With a groan, he shoved his mouth against your dripping pussy even more and began to focus on the sensitive bud near the top, gently sucking and licking it side to side. 

 “Mmmfff, Bpheel,” you groaned, voice increasing in volume as he continued with his ministrations on your core. That familiar heat pooling in your lower belly was now slowly spreading across your body when you felt one of Beel’s thick fingers prodding at your soaked entrance. 

 “Ah, dfbon’t stop,” you moaned, rocking your hips into the demon’s face in an attempt to chase your high even faster. A second later, you felt Beel’s thick finger stretch out your tight hole and begin to curl against the front of your pussy. A flaming white heat spread throughout your body as your orgasm hit you, causing you to gush onto Beel’s tongue. 

“Oh f—fu—Beel!” You screeched as your vision went black. Beel’s hand immediately reached out to make sure you were steady against the wall. As he continued to suck up the rest of your juices, his eyes glazed over in adoration, watching you as you came down from your high. 

 After a couple of seconds, Beel smirked and grabbed you around the waist with one arm. He gently nuzzled his nose into your neck and suckled softly, garnering a quiet moan from you. Though that was one of the best orgasms you’ve ever gotten in your life, you were acutely aware that Beel’s manhood was tightly pressed against your belly. With a smirk, you gripped it with your delicate hand and giggled as he grunted into your neck. 

 “Come on, don’t tease me. You know I’m still hungry for more,” Beel pleaded, licking the sensitive part of your neck. 

 “OI! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” A familiar gruff voice hollered, rudely interrupting the two of you. Beel immediately placed his entire body in front of you, shielding you from any unwanted visitors – especially the one that had just shown up uninvited, Mammon. 

“Get the fuck out. What do you think is going on?” Beel shot back, rolling his eyes as Mammon glared at his brother. 

“This is the kitchen, you filthy animals! The great Mammon eats in here! Get a fuckin’ room if you’re going to do shit like that! I’m giving you two minutes to put your clothes back on and get out of here. Oh, and I’m telling on you!” Mammon hollered at them as he stormed out of the kitchen. 

With another eye-roll, Beel turned back to you. “I’m sorry Stupidmammon had to ruin the moment, but I’d really like this to continue… If I’m being honest, I don’t think I’ll be able to let go of you now that I’ve had a taste. Would you want to maybe go back to my room so we can finish what we started, and then talk about … this?” Beel asked, showing a surprising amount of vulnerability in his eyes that had never been seen before. 

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you responded, giving him a quick peck on the lips and drawing a brilliant smile from the demon. As you began to get dressed with Beel’s adoring eyes on you, you reflected on your dynamic. 

You never thought you would have done something like this in the kitchen with the avatar of gluttony, but in hindsight, it seemed like the most fitting place for your relationship to start. As for the mess in the kitchen? That seemed like a problem for future Beel and future [Y/N] to deal with. After all, there were more pressing matters at hand.