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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Three for One 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: Let's go!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Two days before Christmas. The store is left in tatters. Shelves strewn with sparse lefftovers and aisles hastily paced by those who left their shopping a bit too late. The frantic shoppers searching for a diamond among the sand grains of untouched product.

You work at arranging the remnants of the season’s beauty advent calendars on a table draped in a bright red cloth. There’s a large tag in a metal stand that marks them as ten percent off. On the other side of the holidays, they will drop to a full eighty percent off. You always believed giftcards were a better prize, not that you got many gifts.

That year, Luanne gave you a new journal and a specialty hot chocolate bomb in the department’s secret santa. You go Michelle and gifted her a copy of your favourite novel and some nail polishes. That is the extent of your shopping and gift exchanges. Except for your puppy, Ernie, who will get a bone and one of those special gourmet dog meals.

You finish your arrangement and step back, admiring your work. It’s close to close and so close to the end of the race that the shop isn’t as busy as usual. The only customers you do see are in a rush and horribly disappointed when that very specific thing isn’t in stock.

“Excuse me,” you’re drawn around the deep voice. A man strolls up the center aisle of the beauty section, the tails of his coat flicking behind him, “hi,” he uses your name as he approaches, “I’m so sorry to bother you again but can you point me to, erm,” he looks down at his phone, “a ring light?”

You hesitate. He seems to know you and you admit, he looks familiar. You’re at that point where the faces all blur together. Your one innate flaw is that you really don’t have a good memory for that, bt you definitely recognise his voice.

“Hello, sir,” you fall short of his name. You want to say Alan but you also don’t want to be wrong. “The ring lights are actually with the cellphone.” You gesture back at electronics, “I know it makes more sense to put them with cameras.”

“Ah, oh, thanks,” he nods but doesn’t move to find his quarry, he lowers his phone, “how’s your holiday going? Thing’s slowing down,” he looks around and you can’t help but do the same.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, most people are all done,” you shrug.

“Ha, wish I could say the same,” he sighs, “I thought we were done but the wife just sent me on a wild goose chase.”

“Hm, oh, well, I’m not very busy, did you need help finding anything else?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my manager’s done for the day so doesn’t really matter if I leave my zone,” you say, “kinda boring around here.”

“You’re too sweet,” he smiles, his blue eyes deep and swirling, “and that sweater is adorable.”

You look down at your dark blue sweater with the white crochet peter pan collar. You wiggle your shoulders and grin back at him, thanking him. You know he bought some perfume for his wife but you’re still blanking on his name.

“Here’s my list,” he tilts his phone towards you and looks down, shifting closer to you as he shows you a text bubble.

“Oh my, right. I’m not sure we’ll have everything,” you teethe your lip as you go through the items, “but we’ll see.”

A message pops up over the top and you try not to read, putting your head up as you try to act like you didn’t see it. It’s not that you meant to decipher the words but your brain quickly skimmed that ‘tomorrow night?’ Not much but just feels a bit personal.

“Alright, we’ll go to electronics first, then work our way forward,” you suggest.

“Good idea,” he agrees.

You set off and he follows at just a step. You have to remember to slow down as often you’re so determined you find yourself leaving your customers far behind you. You bring him to the mobile accessories and point to the ring lights.

He considers them and rubs his chin. He points between two; “what’s the difference?”

“Oh, this one comes with a tripod extension and this one is a full kit with a mic,” you point from one to the other.

“What do you think is better for, uh, streaming?” He sounds unsure of that last word.

“I think that kit would have more to it, especially if whoever it’s for is just starting out. But I’m don’t know too much about these things.”

“I’ll take the kit,” he scoops it off the shelf, “the kid can never have enough.”

“Oh? You have kids?”

“One,” he sounds less than excited, “teenager now so he really can’t stand me.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he forces away the shadow across his features, “you know how they can be. What about you? You going to see your parents? Spending the day with someone special?”

“Um, just Ernie,” you answer, “my puppy.”

“Cute,” he remarks, “are you guys open tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, yeah, ‘til five,” you try to remember the next thing on his list.

He seems less concerned with the items than before, instead turn to examine a pop socket, “you have to work on Christmas Eve?”

“Yeah, closing, but I don’t mind.”

“What’s this?” He holds up a pop socket.

“It goes on your phone,” you pull out your phone and show him your daisy one, “see?” You hook your fingers around it, “it’s a grip to help you hold on.”

“Ah, makes sense,” he turns the thin package over, “kid’s always breaking his screen…”

You wait patiently as he makes up the mind to add the grip to his haul.

“What’s next?” You prompt as gently as you can.

“Oh, uh,” he looks at his phone, “video games…” he squints, “V-bucks?”

“Ah, yes, that would be a gift card,” you say, “I can show you the rack.”

He lets you lead him to the large rack of subscription cards. You point out the various currency amounts available and he rubs his brow. His forehead lines as you see the stress needling in his cheek. He’s struck with the late shopper syndrome. He’s start to feel the crush of time.

“So, just your dog?” He wonders as he picks up a $75 card.

“Yeah,” you answer softly.

“No boyfriend? Siblings?”

“Just me,” you assure him, “I don’t mind. I get to choose the dessert!”

He chuckles, “that’s a good way to look at it. Did you buy yourself something special?”

“Not really, I’ve been saving for a vacation so I put most of my overtime into that,” you explain. “You having a big dinner?”

“Last minute change, wife’s parents want to host. Had to figure out travel plans.” He looks at the giftcards again and your eyes fall to the large back curled up in his arm and the card and phone grip balanced between his fingers. He slides free a Netflix card and reads the fine print.

“Do you want a basket, sir?” You offer.

“Oh, well, sure,” he accepts as he looks down, “that’s very considerate.”

“Don’t want you to drop anything,” you smile and turn on your heel.

You go to the stack of rolling baskets beside the electronics desk. Tyler doesn’t acknowledge you as he sorts through game shells to put back on the shelf. You pull the basket behind you, rattling on its wheels as you approach the shopper by the gift cards.

“Here,” you veer it around towards him.

He bends to lower the ringlight inside and drops the smaller items into next to it; he adds the Netflix subscription along with it and holds onto the Kindle card in his hand.

“You got any of these around?” He holds up the card, “the reader?”

“Hmm, we should,” you rub your neck, “I suppose if we didn’t, you can get a tablet and download the app.”

“I guess,” he nods, “can you check?”

“Of course, sir.”

You turn away and call over your headset. Regan tells you there’s a kindle up in return they can sell. You ask them to put it aside.

“There’s one left at checkout. They’re going to have it waiting for you,” you announce proudly.

“That’s great. You like to read?” He asks.

“Oh, sure, my one vice is my book addiction,” you giggle, “how about you?”

“Well, I don’t get much of a chance with work. I’m usually burnt out from all the legal documents,” he drones grimly, “then the kid has extracurriculars or there’s a PTA meeting or the wife needs something done.”

“Sounds busy,” you say empathetically, “I hope you get some time to relax this holiday.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “I almost envy you. I’m sure your dog’s good company.”

“He’s so sweet,” you can’t help but beam at the mention of your boy.

“Big cuddler?” He asks.

“Uh, yeah,” the question is a bit unexpected, “you like dogs?”

“Never really had one. Don’t need the extra work,” he says, “but I don’t mind them.”

“That’s fair. He can be a bit needy.”

He flinches and looks down at his hand. His screen flashes and he gives an apologetic look as he raises his palm, “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.”

“Take your time, sir, I’ll wander,” you point over your shoulder with your thumb.

He mouths a thanks before he answers, “Barber.”

You back up and turn to distract yourself with the shelf of controllers and switch cases. His deep voice carries but you focus on the Sinatra carol playing overhead to drown him out. Still you can’t help but catch a few words.

“Five, yeah…no, she won’t…it’s fine…” He’s quiet for a moment before he raises his voice, “figure it out.”

His stern tone sends a chill through you. It’s a sharp contrast to his previously friendly demeanour. Well, he mentioned he’s a lawyer, you assume he has a lawyer voice, akin to your customer service one.

“Sorry,” he comes back to you, “my wife…” he takes a breath, “you don’t happen to sell wine here?”

You smile. The way he answered, it didn’t sound very affectionate but maybe he hadn’t expected his wife.

“No, sorry, sir.”

“Kidding,” he chuckles, “well, I guess I should get my butt in gear,” he flicks through his phone, “um, I assume toiletries? Face masks?”

“Oh, that’s near me,” you point back towards beauty, “there’s a special for the sheet masks.”

“Great,” he grabs the extended handle of the basket, “thanks so much for this. I’m so lost.”

“That’s fine,” you go ahead of him, “it’s the job.”

🎀

You groan as you put the last empty bin in the stack. You stand and rub your shoulders, traps sore from all the lifting and moving. The night crew will set up for the day after Christmas but in the last hour of work, you and the few others in the store scrambled to get the old displays torn down.

Luanne walks with you to the employee break room. She’s in more of a hurry as she has her three children waiting for her at their grandparents. She goes ahead of you and punches out as you wait and stretch out your arms.

“Have a good Christmas,” she says breathily as she opens her locker and pulls out her purse and jacket, folding the latter over her arm, “I’ll see you after. You’re opening, right?”

“Sure thing,” you say as you punch in your employee number. “Merry Christmas.”

“Give Ernie some pets for me,” she trills as she goes to the door. “Thanks again. You saved my ass today.”

“No problem, “ you shake your head, “Christmas Eve brings out the best.”

“Does it ever. Bye, sweetie,” she waves over her shoulder as he sweeps through the door.

You go to your locket and take out your fluffy pink sherpa coat and purse. You loop your scarf around your neck and slip your earmuffs around your head. You sit to pull on your boots and stand with an ache in your calves. You feel the fatigue finally setting in. It’s not over yet; one day off and you’re right back to the furor.

You yawn as you leave the breakroom and drag your feet across the store. You take out your phone as you pop your earbuds in and choose your holiday mix. You wave goodbye to a few other stragglers and go out the front door, Spencer locking it behind you.

It’s bitterly cold out. You’re surprised by the fresh fall of snow swirling in the air. It gives an extra sparkle to the time of year.

You scroll through your phone. The buses are on holiday hours already. The next one is in an hour. Great. You can just walk, at least until you get to the next stop. More buses stop there and you can get at least ten minutes within your building.

You trod along, kicking through the powder of snow as headlights gleam ahead of you. You walk along the narrow walk beside the hotel on the other side of the intersection and a pair of flashing tail lights blink ahead of you. A dark figure stands beside the white SUV but you can’t make out much more than their silhouette.

You keep going, peeking up curiously as you near. The boot of the car pops up and the stranded driver searches. As you pass, you trip over an unseen shape, the metal clank painfully against your toe. You look down at the small foot jack.

“Oh, shoot, sorry,” the man stands straight and turns to you, “I didn’t see you coming. I was just grabbing the iron–”

“That’s okay,” you pick out your earbuds, “I wasn’t looking.”

“Wait,” he stops short and points a gloved finger in your direction, “it’s you. You work at the store just down the way, right?”

You know the man. He’s the one who was in the store just yesterday. There’s a flutter in your chest at the coincidence of your encounter. It happens, especially in the shopping district. Half the city at least passes through her during the holidays.

“Yeah, uh, that’s me. You finish your shopping?”

“Just about,” he tuts and shakes his head, “blew a tire. So, happy holidays to me.”

“I’m so sorry,” you look down at the snowy walk.

“Mhmm,” he grumbles, “all this snow, I can’t get the jack to work either.”

“Dang, unfortunately, I’m not help. I don’t know much about cars.”

“That’s fine, I called roadside assistance but they’re taking their damn time,” he checks his watch.

“Oh…” you utter.

“Don’t let me rain on your holiday, honey,” he says, “your toe okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” you look down.

“Wait, are you walking home?” He asks.

You nod.

“Wish I could offer you a ride. This weather’s only getting worse,” he bemoans. He slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out his phone, “they should be here shortly so if–”

A set of headlights pull onto the apron and roll towards you. You look over as the man beside you does the same. You stand, somewhat dumbfounded at the unexpected run-in.

“That’s them,” he declares, “hey, guys.”

He waves as the white van pulls up. You were expecting a tow truck. Oh, well. Not your problem.

“Great, I guess I should get going,” you excuse yourself, “have a happy holi–”

As you step back, your heel catches on something. You don’t realise until your plummeting onto your ass that the man stuck his leg out behind you. You hit the ground with an oomph, barely missing the metal jack half-buried in the snow.

You hear the van door sliding open and a clatter of heavy treads. You can barely catch your breath as the world moves fast around you. The man bends over you as another rushes over, grabbing you off the ground as the two vehicles block out the street from view.

“Be nice,” the first man warns as your arms are seized. “Don’t hurt her.”

You suck in a deep breath. What is happening? You go to let out the shriek as you’re struck by the situation. This can’t be real but you’re being half-carried towards an open vehicle. A hand comes up and stifles your scream, smothering you as you’re yanked harshly forward.

“Careful,” the man girds again.

“Shut the fuck up,” the other grits and pulls you away from the other, spinning you around as he hooks an arm around your neck and covers your mouth, forcing you towards the van. He bends backwards, lifting your feet as you kick and squirm.

“Honey, calm down,” the friendly customer coaxes, “it’s okay.”

You don’t understand. Why are they doing this? Why you?

The man’s hand slips as you grab at his arms and your teeth come over the vee between thumb and index. You bite down and he yowls. Even through his leather glove, you give him a viscous pinch.

“Fuck!” He tosses you forward so your knees hit the side of the van and fall half-inside.

“Hurry the fuck up,” another voice calls from inside the van.

“Trying,” the second man snarls as you stand and let out a shrill note, only for a second before you’re caught from behind and muted again. This time the leather glove seals over your nose. “Fucking bitch.”

You’re lifted into the van, writhing and kicking as the door slides shut from the outside. You’re pinned on the floor in the seatless rear of the vehicle. You whimper as your eyes glisten with a sudden spring of tears.

That question rings in your head again; why you? You have no one to look for you, no one to care. It’s only you against them.

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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months

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Not That Kind of Guy

Part Four: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, panty kink, sex daydreams [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is doing his very best, he just loves you and wants you to be comfy around him. Just let him worm his way into your heart babe [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. I’m illiterate so apologies in advance MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: July 8th

Mr. Nelson’s funeral was today, it really was a beautiful ceremony as I look back on it. Even more so when my inner self smears the background enough to bring you to the front of the mental image.

You’d spoken to the man a handful of times, but I didn’t expect you to come. When I saw you accept the invite to the event on Facebook I thought surely it was a mistake. That was until you messaged Luke and asked him to accompany you, funerals make you nervous, but feeling obligated to do something and avoiding it makes you more nervous.

So your moral support was happy to attend and fight off dear old Alan’s corpse should he rise from the casket and set his sights on you.

And I though I had irrational fears, geez babydoll, how old were you when you watched Night of The Living Dead for the first time? If I had to guess it was too young. It’s alright though I get it, you know what movie traumatized me? The Mummy. Heebied my fucking Jeebies so bad I avoided the beach on family vacations.

You’re telling me there’s not a sarcophagus under all that sand? There’s at least one under there and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Solid ground for me only, please and thank you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I had a thought that I initially considered to be a sweet reminder of my dear friend Alan. His obituary was in the newspaper and I happened to swipe one from the guest book table at the viewing as well. Have you ever scrapbooked before? I bet you’ve at least tried it.

Well I thought it would be nice to make him a page in my journal. A little celebration of life for the man who gave me an opportunity to grow and nurture my love for you.

Then I realized mid-glue stick on the newspaper clipping that the idea was something that a clinically insane person would do.

I’m not that guy. That guy’s not me.

But the glue was already on there and it felt wrong to toss Alan’s wrinkly old face into the trash so I pasted him into my journal anyway.

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy. I’m well aware that little idea was less than tasteful, just felt like I should mention that.

Date:

July 28th

Anakin Skywalker hadn’t been this happy since… ever. The previous record being his discovery of you, was now toppled into second place and overshadowed by ‘Move In Day’.

He could hardly contain himself. It was a dopamine high that he would ride out until he’d drained every last drop.

The movers lugged in box after box, furniture and books, until finally they dropped off the last load and thanked Anakin for the business. He eagerly shook their hand and shoved them out. He had preparations to make.

He set up his Tv, screen mirroring the live feed of the apartment building entrance to the big screen so that he could easily keep an eye out for you while he unpacked his kitchen.

He’d planned your ‘meet-cute’ meticulously, looking to your bookshelf and streaming services to gather intel on your ideal scenario. You were an odd bird, but he liked that about you. It’s part of your charm, it’s part of the challenge. You’re not as predictable in your tastes and interests as others can be.

Anakin formulated the interaction step by step, frame by frame in the storyboard of his imagination until he had the perfect scene. His box office hit that he’d replay over and over again until the next time he stood face to face with you.

It took quite some time and a load of practice. Discarded dialogue, awkward movements that made him feel stiff and less than human when he practiced them in the mirror. Endless options of clothes, shoes, and hair.

Should he get a new piercing? He wanted to. So he did, he knew you’d like it.

It’d match the one he already had on the opposite nostril. It made him feel more complete to add something so permanent to his body, he wished he could do something similar with you. He wanted you to be permanent, so maybe it’s his subconscious’s way of telling him that this was going in the right direction.

He was on the right path. His journey of life alone was coming to a close and a new trail would reveal itself. No more rocky, unsteady tread. No more sharp turns and blind spots, no more impossible inclines.

Scraped knees and bloodied hands would be distant memories. Maybe even distant enough that he could toss them into The Pit.

He would have no need for anger or sorrow anymore.

How could he feel anything but the warm embrace of love as he strolled down the flowered path ahead with you?

Who knew that you could position one box in 83 different ways and hate every single one of them? Anakin was so thankful there weren’t any actual surveillance cameras in the apartment building. It’d be really difficult to explain why he was in the hallway for an hour with his hands on his hips, scooting a box of books a centimeter or two at a time. Turning it sideways and then making sure the book on top was perfectly positioned and would effectively fall to the ground to catch your attention.

He checked his watch nonstop, stared at his Tv screen, willing you to just hurry the fuck up before he vomited from anxiety. He’d waited months for this. If he fucked it up now he’d… well he’d probably keel over on the spot.

Which would promptly traumatize you and not even his ghost would be able to peacefully haunt you. It’s hard to peacefully haunt someone if they watched you die, or at least Anakin assumed it would be difficult. He wasn’t willing to test that theory though.

So, he puffed up his chest and walked back into his apartment and rehearsed the upcoming conversation a few more times. He needed, desperately needed to ensure his facial expressions conveyed what he wanted.

Soft, trustworthy, dependable, safe, caring.

He practiced softening his eyes, knowing sometimes he stared alittle too hard. He worked on his facial fidget; chewing on the inside of his cheek was a quick tell of his nervousness. He didn’t want to be perceived as nervous, he wanted to be confident and sure of himself so that you would be confident in your soon to blossom affection for him.

His eyebrows, that’s a hard one, but he’d meticulously watched bar goers trying to flirt. The successful ones he learned, sometimes use their eyebrows in place of questions or words. A difficult concept, but one he studied until he mastered it.

Now, the other facial expressions and mannerisms… he gathered that information from your watch lists on your streaming services. For the visible examples at least, but your books were just as helpful in describing how he should approach you, speak to you, and simply exist near you.

He hadn’t realized these things were this important until now. Standing and posture was surprisingly very, very important to women. As well as hand movements and subtle glances and minuscule changes of expression.

You were worth the time and effort it took to learn all of it. He’d read and research and practice until he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror any longer. He was determined to make sure you were happy with the results.

He was startled by a loud ping, someone had entered to building and holy shit it was you.

Anakin shook out his hands frantically, remembering the breathing techniques he’d learned as a child, he grounded himself quickly.

It’s okay.

‘She’s gonna love you. She’ll warm up to you quickly, you know everything you need to know about her to make her comfortable and loved.’

‘There’s no way she won’t fall head over heels.’

He smoothed out his band-tee and ran his hands through his hair quickly and headed to his door that was propped open slightly. A few boxes sat in the hall, including the most important one, the one instrumental to his plan.

The apartment hallway was ridiculously tiny, which worked in his favor in this situation.

He heard you come up the stairs, counted your steps until he knew you were almost at the door, 17 and a half steps. Then he swung open the door and bent down to grab one of the boxes.

As expected, he startled you and you dropped your keys. You always wore your backpack on one shoulder, one strap. So when you quickly went to scoop up your keys, your bag swung out of place and toppled a few books from one of the boxes.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Anakin could gloat to himself about his magnificent setup later, right now he needed to woo you with his sweet words.

“Oh, sweetheart I’m sorry.” He said softly, coming over to offer you a hand up.

“It’s okay, my bad.” You laughed, taking his hand.

He managed to keep calm and collected despite his insides boiling him alive at the willing skin contact.

“No, not at all. It’s my fault for startling you like that.” He chuckled, squeezing your upper arm and using his hand already in yours to give you a small handshake. Smooth.

“I’m Anakin.” He said with a bashful smile, dropping your hand and reveling in the lingering warmth your palm left on his.

You introduced yourself in return, gesturing to his apartment door.

“So I take it that you’re my new neighbor huh?” You said, making small talk as you crouched down to pick up the books you’d knocked over.

“No I’m just a one man moving crew.” He grinned.

“Very funny.” You laughed, standing up as you looked through the titles. “Hmm, you’ve got good taste.”

“You think so?” He asked, remembering to make his eyebrows swoop up toward the middle of his forehead to give a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah, this is one of my favorites.” You said, showing him the cover of The Silmarillion by Tolkien.

“Not many people actually read that one, I’m impressed.” He smiled.

“Impressed? Yeah well I’m jealous.” You laughed.

“What?” He chuckled, holding his hands out to take the other books from you.

“This is a really nice edition, it’s similar to mine. I recently lost it.” You sighed. “I think I must’ve left it the park or maybe it fell out of my bag or something.”

“Ah, that sucks… well, I mean I’ve read that one a few times now. It’s been well loved.” He said tipping the books in his arms toward the one you were holding. “Why don’t you keep it?”

He shrugged, acting nonchalant as though this didn’t mean the entire world to him and if you said no he’d sob about it later.

“You’re serious?” You asked in surprise, he was offering you a 50$ special edition book and you’d barely known him for a minute.

“Yeah, ‘course sweetheart.” He said with a cute, crooked smile. “Think of it as a… reverse house warming gift.” He chuckled.

“Thank you, I- this means a lot to me.” You said, grinning widely. “That’s real sweet of you Anakin. I owe you one.”

“No worries.” He chuckled, “I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it even sweetheart.” His gaze flickered quickly from your eyes to your lips, and he turned to go back into his apartment after giving you an almost-missed wink.

You stepped inside your home, and went straight to the bookshelf to put your new-to-you book where it belonged. After the fact you stood there and buffered, just staring at it.

‘There’s no way, this guy has to be too good to be true.’

But he seemed… so genuine. He didn’t ogle you, he didn’t make you feel weird or like he just felt obligated to speak to you.

He seemed to actually, really be a good guy.

Rare. Few and far of those exist in this day and age. It’s uncommon to meet someone who would do something, even as simple as giving you a used book, without expecting anything in return.

But he didn’t seem to expect anything. He didn’t seem to even expect a thank you, it was like he’d already decided he would give it to you before he even offered.

What are the odds that a hot, tattooed and pierced man moves in next door and gifts you an expensive book that just so happens to be an even better replacement for the one that you just lost? That couldn’t happen twice even if you tried to make it happen again.

What kind of second dimension did you step into? The land of dreamy men?

Diary Entry: July 28th

It’s late. But I have to write to you, it can’t wait til tomorrow.

Everything went more perfectly than I could’ve imagined. Thank you so much for being you sweet girl. It made my job of curating the scenery so much easier, you clumsy little thing. I am sorry for having to spook you though, but it worked didn’t it?

Research pays off. Always.

And of course there’s the issue of your book, I hated to see your frustration and your mad scowl when you realized it was missing from your backpack. I really did.

But I’d do it every goddamn day if I knew I’d get the same reaction out of you from giving you that new copy.

Oh god you’re… you’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful. You look angelic when you sleep but you look like competition for Aphrodite when you smile at me.

You smiled, grinned. You smiled all the way up to the corners of your bright and beautiful eyes. For me.

You even laughed for me.

It was so sweet I could taste it. The honey of your voice, I could fucking bathe in it. Just the sound of you speaking, knowing you were speaking to me. Really speaking to me.

In the flesh.

It’s intoxicating. It’s emboldening, it’s dangerous. I’ve never been more worked up in my life. I’m torn all to pieces from at two minute and 6 second conversation.

I think I’ll have to fucking recover from this like a damn hangover.

But what has me so drunk you might ask? Was it your laugh at my stupid jokes? Was it your perfect smile, your radiant glow, your soulful eyes? The softness of your skin or you willingness to let me touch you?

No baby. It’s how you said my name.

I wish I could’ve stayed longer, I wish I could’ve spoken to you more. But it’s so hard to concentrate when my dick is leaking precum down my leg at a rate that should probably be concerning.

The minute you closed that door I shoved those boxes into my apartment and locked the door. Took my elated ass straight to the couch and watched you in your living room, admiring your gift from me while I fucked my fist with a pair of your dirty panties in my mouth.

I couldn’t have your honeyed lips soothing my angry red cock just yet, but I sure as hell could imagine licking your gorgeous little cunt while I tasted you.

I tugged my balls and pumped my cock for over half an hour until I was a fucking mess for you in my new living room’s floor. The cool hardwood letting the heat from my flushed skin seep away from me as I came back down to earth.

I made myself dizzy. Didn’t give myself a break, didn’t slow down, just stroked my cock like the desperate little manwhore that I am for you. The only thing missing was you being there to watch me fall apart.

I think you’d like that wouldn’t you? Watching a man like me get on his knees and beg for you?

Diary Entry: July 29th

I’ve replayed that moment in my head for hours on end. The beginning always stays the same, but the ending… that’s been subject to many changes. It started off simple, we’d chat alittle longer, I’d ask you how your day was; you’d tell me it was ‘fine, thank you’.

Or you’d ask me why I decided to move in, why I chose this side of town, this side of town, this apartment building, across from you. That one always ended questionably and I’d rather not explore that one on paper.

My favorites however were the ones where you’d laugh at a stupid pick-up line and somehow we’d end up in your bed. The bed I’ve sat and watched you sleep in. Those were the best additions.

Now, I’ve been fortunate enough that you’ve been loyal, faithful and devoted to only me since the very beginning. So I don’t really have a clue what you’d actually be like in bed.

But god it’s so fun to imagine it.

You’ve got such pretty, soft skin. You let me mar it up with my teeth and soothe it with my tongue. You let me grip the pillowy flesh of your thighs to spread you open for me. You let me pinch and roll and pull your nipples until they were raw and begging for a break. You let me caress the sensitive slick covered folds between those beautiful pussy lips, plunge my fingers in as far as they’d go.

I took you from behind, watching your perky little ass bounce off my cock while I plowed into you. Your face smushed against the couch cushions and your body folded over the arm rest for me to fuck you like the good little girl that you are.

Against the wall with your arms around my neck while I’ve got my hands holding you spread open and in place by the crook of your knees. You promised you stay real still so that I could drill up into you like you deserved.

God damn. Do you know how good you look like that? Back arched against the wall, tits jiggling in my face with every thrust. Your legs pushed up and back to the sides of your torso, to pin you in place?

It was like a pretty pink flower had bloomed and spread its buttery smooth petals just for me.

Don’t even get me started on how good you suck cock. Have you ever been told you could be mistaken for a warm, wet Hoover? No? Didn’t think so cause that would be rude as hell, but I bet someone’s thought it before.

(Me. It’s me, I thought that.)

Fuck those soft lips. Fuck that smooth snake of a tongue. Fuck that tight, hot throat that just loves to take a beating from my dick.

Can’t wait to prove my imagination right.

Speaking of, my dick has been beat. Like actually. If one didn’t know any better they’d assume it’s on life support, but I’m a freak of nature. Cumming upwards of 16 times in the span of 40ish hours would probably put a weaker man in a hospital bed. Or maybe a psych ward.

But I am not a weak man even if my dick feels raw. I’d still fuck you if you asked.

I’d be curious to know if I’d be able to stave off cumming longer from all the abuse or if I’d be so fucking sensitive that I wouldn’t make it in half an inch.

Probably the latter.

Diary Entry: August 2nd

Being so close to you is killing me. Truly it is.

You’ve sunken your claws so deeply into my very soul and you don’t even realize it. It’s torture. To you, I’m just the new guy, nice dude who gave you a book. But to me? You’re my entire world.

I’ve been told I have the personality of a guard dog. Soft and squishy on the inside, dangerous and fierce on the outside. Which I suppose could be true, but really I think it’s for a different reason. For a human, a dog is one small but very impactful blip in your life. But for the dog? You are it’s life.

Am I comparing myself to a dog right now? Yes I am.

I’ll beg for you to throw me the scraps of your affections until you finally toss me a bone.

Bark.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I’ve been trying my best to give you space. To plan accordingly and in advance. I have our next two interactions simmering on the back burner.

I know that if I go too hard, too fast, you’ll be overwhelmed. That’s the last thing I want. I never want to be the thing that causes you stress, I want to siphon it from you. So, in one week I will set out to help you with a few of your errands and plant a few seeds.

But until then, we have late night snacks and couch chats with Boogie.

I’ve also been doing- you guessed it- more research to do with helpful vitamins and medicines. You’ve responded so well to your SleepyTime tea and since I’ve started making sure your birth control packet is plainly visible in the countertop basket directly beneath that cabinet, you’ve been taking it so well.

I’m so proud of you sweetheart, that’s my girl, look at you taking care of yourself. You’ve done so well in fact, that it’s in my personal opinion that you have earned a very special reward.

Anakin sat on his couch, the live feed of your living room screen mirrored to his Tv. He was watching you cook dinner, he knew you’d be making a stir fry. He’d seen it in your planner, so he’d taken the liberty of ordering himself the same, it’d be here any minute. As would your good friend Sam.

Anakin had originally burned red hot with jealousy at the thought of you inviting a man over to your apartment, that he hadn’t vetted via social media and a quick drop-in. But he was relieved to discover that Sam was just a girl from your book club.

This wasn’t one of his well thought out plans, this was decided upon this morning after you’d returned from book club. So, he was anxious to see if his hunches served him well. Sam seemed like a punctual gal, at least from what he’d seen on social media and the text messages between the two of you from weeks/months before.

Anakin had the wonderful idea to log into your cell service providers website to pull your deleted messages from their data bank. You really should have better passwords.

The thing he was most worried about was his door dasher arriving on time. It was rare that one was too far off on arrival time, but it would be his shit luck and lack of planning that could ruin this little glimpse of you.

The minutes ticked by and he was alerted to the new motion sensors he’d placed near the LED pathway lights on the paved entrance to the apartment building. He quickly switched over to the hallway feed at the front door, seeing that it was his door dasher.

Damn you Trevor. How dare you get there before Sam.

Not to worry, he’d call for the door code and Anakin wouldn’t answer the first time. It wasn’t much but it would buy him a few seconds.

Though it seemed to be that luck was on his side as it often was when it came to you. Sam was so kind, kind enough to let the delivery guy into the building. Which is technically a security concern but Trevor didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d be able to remember a 6 digit door code.

He was too busy staring at your friends ass to pay attention to the numbers she entered anyway.

The footsteps approached your door and his, Anakin waited until he heard Sam knock on your door before he opened his. Trevor stood patiently as Anakin slowly counted out his tip in cash and thankfully you were quick to let your friend inside. After the exchange was complete Anakin gave you a smile and wave.

He could’ve had a heart attack at the response you gave him.

A flirty little finger waggle and smile.

He had to remind himself to breathe and keep his expression a happy-neutral. He’d hate for you to see his blushing cheeks this early on.

“Have a good night girls.” He said as he closed his door and to his surprise you actually answered.

“You too!”

If he weren’t confident that you were a sweet and loving soul, he’d think you were trying to kill him with the siren song of your voice.

Stir fry had never tasted so fucking good.

Diary Entry: July 8th

Grocery day baby, here I come.

I love that you’re so predictable. I love that you’re so fucking cute and always try to strong arm your groceries in one trip. I love that it takes at least two good whacks to the trunk of your shitty old Nissan to properly close it.

It’s cute to watch you struggle with it, the annoyed huffs and angry scowl.

I thought you’d combust on the spot once when your paper grocery bag of flour and sugar ripped open and sent a plume of flour up on your black jeans. The parking lot was very empty and I was very glad because I’d hate for someone to have seen the cursing contest you had with yourself as you picked up your spilled items. Very unladylike you know. But it’s you so I don’t mind, I just like to hear you talk.

It’s almost time. I’ve been sitting in my car for about 10 minutes. Gotta account for the traffic on highway 76. Do you really have to shop all the way out there just because of the Whole Foods? C’mon baby they have the same shit at Kroger.

I’ve been watching your little blue dot on my phone and you’re rounding the corner so I’ll write you later doll.

I love you.

You pulled into the parking lot and sat in your car for a moment. Giving yourself the much need quiet to decompress from your work day and the grocery trip. After you’d checked your messages and scrolled for a moment you decided it was time to head inside before your frozen foods got… not so frozen.

You popped the trunk and fumbled with the faulty latch, your fingers feeling blindly under the metal lip until it finally detached and you were able to open the trunk.

You took a deep breath and scolded yourself for buying the extra few things that could’ve waited till next time. Second trips are for wimps and you weren’t one. So you loaded up your left arm bag by bag until you heard a humored puff of air and the beep of a car locking behind you.

“Need a hand sweetheart?” Anakin grinned, shoving his keys into his front pocket.

He waltzed over and took a few bags off your hands without waiting for a response. It took you aback, not because he hadn’t waited for permission, but because of the way he exuded an odd charm that made you falter.

“Anakin, really it’s alright I can get it.” You said, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion by his kind gesture.

“Mmm no, this seems like a two man mission sweet girl.” He smiled, gathering up a few the last few bags from the trunk and shutting it with one solid push.

“You really don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to.” He said tilting his head toward the apartment building to encourage you to walk with him. “I want to.”

“Thank you, that’s… thanks.” You smiled, a light blush creeping across your cheeks.

“Atta girl.” He chuckled, tapping in the door code and holding it open for you despite holding many more bags than you.

Something about the low tone of voice or maybe just the way he looked at you with his icey blue eyes… just sent a chill down your spine. A quick one that was gone in an instant, replaced by a warm glow in the center of your chest.

“Guess chivalry’s not dead.” You joked.

“I’m no knight.” He laughed, “but you’re sure as hell a princess.”

‘Oh that was smooth.’ You thought, trying to ignore the heat at the bottom of your stomach.

What is happening? How on earth can one man be so… everything? Kind, caring, chivalrous and gorgeous to boot.

You felt a wave of embarrassment at the squeaky giggle you let out. He had you tore up from one little comment.

True to the gentleman he seemed to be, he chose not to push it and tease you about your beet red cheeks. He just waited patiently for you as you unlocked your door.

“Do you want me to bring these in for you?” He asked, watching your movements closely.

“Oh that would be great.” You said in relief, leading him into your kitchen.

“Cute little place.” He said, looking around the kitchenette and over to the living room.

He sat down your bags on the counter and started unloading them neatly into rows.

“Oh, you-“

“Mmm mmm.” He shook his head with a smirk, “Just let me help, it’s no big deal.”

You let out a puff of air in an amused sort of amazement and pulled out your little step stool to open up the cabinets. Anakin snickered from behind you as you stepped up and started putting things away.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder and almost said something snarky until you realized he was folding your paper grocery bags in the same way that you always do.

“Huh.” You laughed. “I thought I was the only one who did that.”

“Did what?” He asked, his head cocked to the side.

“Fold the bags.” You said, turning back around to continue placing your things where they belonged.

“Oh,” he chuckled, “I dunno it’s just a habit I guess. Fits better in that stupid slot on the recycling bin this way.”

“Yeah I never really understood why they made them that way? I guess so people don’t just shove other trash in there.” You mused.

“Mmhm probably.” He agreed, stacking them neatly and gathering it in his hands. “Do you want me to take these out back for you?”

“I can do-“ You stopped yourself when Anakin raised his eyebrow and cocked his head to the side with a crooked smirk.

You sighed and gave him a downturned smile. “Yes, I would love for you to take them out back for me.”

“Good girl.” He nodded, clicking his tongue and heading for the door. “See ya princess.”

After he shut the door you let yourself breathe alittle easier, blowing out the air in a short puff through your nose. Maybe even letting a little smile cross your lips before you finished up your task.

You’d be thinking about that low rumble of his voice later. Good girl? Shit.

PART FIVE

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @doblasftcisco @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141 @nico-velvet @rorysbrainrot @hopesworlld @mawhOre @lonaah @t8Izw @guiltycherries

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

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feyhunter78 · 10 months

Text

Pink Pastels Pt 17

Description: It's a three-day weekend, so you go out dancing, run into Miguel, and Gabi does her own investigating.

Pt 18

You’re really not sure how you didn’t make the connection between Miguel and Spiderman before. They have the same build, similar voices, they do that same head tilt thing, and they call you cariño, along with a few other heart-stopping petnames.

“Y/N, y/n, earth to y/n.” Janey is waving her hand in front of your face, her bag on her shoulder.

You snap back to reality and scroll past the news footage of Spiderman saving a bus full of senior citizens. “Yeah, sorry, I’m listening.”

“Are you? Because Principal Alan just emailed us saying a water line broke, so school is canceled tomorrow, and I was trying to tell you about it.”

“Really? So, we get a three-day weekend?” You set down your phone, face down, so you aren’t tempted to pick it back up and obsessively search for more footage of Spiderman.

“Yeah, so I’m thinking we go out tonight?” Janey suggests a mischievous expression on her face.

“Oh no, no, are we going to one of those weird clubs where all the drinks aren’t called what they actually are, and the DJ wears a mask or something weird like that?”

Janey rolls her eyes playfully. “I take you to one speakeasy that’s a little weird—”

“A little? Janey, people were having sex just like, on the floor.”

“That is not usually a part of it, that was really weird.” Janey admits, giving you an apologetic smile. “But still, I know this new club, it’s really cool, and not weird at all.”

Janey is a liar. The club is super weird. All the employees are dressed in an odd sequined fabric, the drinks are dirt cheap, the DJ keeps switching up the songs halfway through, and the whole place is housed in an abandoned hospital.

“Janey, this place blows, can we please leave?” You shout over the music, trying to pretend you’re not grossed out by the couple making out on a decades old hospital bed.

“It’s an experience, y/n, just relax, have another drink, if the music doesn’t get better by the time, it’s midnight we’ll leave.”

You look at your phone, it’s eleven thirty now, you can tough it out for thirty more minutes.

“Okay, but you get my drink, and I’ll save our spot.”

Janey smiles and thanks you, then disappears into the crowd.

You sway to the music, watching the others around you. Everyone seems to be having a lot more fun than you. Then the song changes, the bass so loud you feel it in your chest.

Janey returns and hands you your drink. You both clink your plastic cups together and down them.

“Oh, that is so bad, ew, ew, ew, what the fuck was in that gasoline?” Janey crinkles her nose, coughing into her elbow.

Yours was pretty bad too, but you’re used to drinking shitty drinks from your time with Todd.

“Let’s just dance, I kind of like this song.” You say, holding your hands out to Janey and pulling her further into the crowd.

You leave the club right at midnight, pleasantly buzzed but not drunk, and you two share a cab back to your apartments, with Janey promising that next time she’ll pick a better place.

You wave goodbye and take the elevator up to your apartment, smoothing out your dress in the reflection on the doors. Tight, low cut, a gorgeous color, you love this dress because you just look so damn good in it.

Part of you wonders what Miguel would think of it. You toy with the idea of knocking on his door, pretending you need his help with something but think better of it. It’s midnight, Gabi is most definitely asleep, you don’t want to accidentally wake her up and have her see you in a clubbing outfit.

The elevator doors ding, you step out, and run straight into Miguel.

He looks you up and down, then cocks an eyebrow. “Night out?”

You try to subtly tug down your skirt. “Yeah, but it was kind of lame, so we left early.”

His eyes flicker behind you. “We?”

“Janey and I.”

He visibly relaxes and stretches his arms behind his head. “Can’t sleep, thought I’d go for a run.”

Your eyes drink in the bend of his arms, the flexing of his muscles through the long sleeves of his form fitting gray shirt.

You want him bad, so bad you start to open your mouth to say something you’ll blame on the alcohol flooding through your system, then you remember Gabi’s face. How she clung to you crying, how scared she was that you’d never come back.

You can’t mess this up, can’t throw yourself at Miguel just because he’s kind, smart, handsome, a good dad, and he eats pussy like a fucking champ. You have to be smart about this, it’s not just you and him, but you, him, and Gabi. And you will never do anything to hurt Gabi, and you’re sure neither would Miguel.

“That’s too bad, hopefully it’ll tire you out.” You say, forcing yourself to meet his eyes and steady your breathing.

“And what about you? Up for a run?” His voice dips low, and you know exactly what he’s asking.

“I can’t.” You say even as you scream internally, the parts of your brain fueled by lust cussing you out six ways to Sunday. “I’m so beat, and I’ve been drinking, it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Miguel scans you once more, then nods. “Take an Advil before you go to bed, I’m making you breakfast, I’ll see you at ten.”

You buffer for a moment. Is he asking you out on a date?

“If you’d like, no pressure.” He backtracks, rubbing the back of his neck, his expression sheepish and nervous?

Is Miguel O’Hara nervous?

You step closer to him and brush your painted lips across his cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of your lips, the pink of your lipstick complimenting his tanned skin. “I’d like that. I’ll see you at ten.”

Then you slip into your apartment, flop down onto your couch, and scream into the nearest pillow.

“Lyla?”

“Yeah, Gabi?” Lyla pops into the room, her form dimmed to match the low light of her room.

“Is Papá here?”

“It looks like he’s in the hallway with y/n, do you want me to tell him you’re awake?” She’s sitting beside Gabi’s bed now, a concerned look on her face.

Gabi turns onto her back, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling. “No, it’s okay.”

Lyla hums in response. “Anything else kiddo?”

“Can you see if Ms. Y/N is single?”

“Sure, one second.”

Gabi hugs her bear tighter as she waits.

“She is, and it looks like…oh, ya know what, maybe your dad should tell you this stuff.”

“Lyla, come on, I thought you were cool.” Gabi pouts, sitting up in her bed and staring at Lyla’s shifting form.

“Ugh, okay but, promise me you’ll tell your dad you heard about this on the news or something.”

“I promise.” Gabi says, rubbing at her eyes, sleep already pulling at her, beckoning her back to dreamland.

“Todd Jameson, twenty-six, found dead in the Brooklyn River. Apparently, he was pretty scratched up, but that was probably from the stuff that was in the river.” Lyla bites her lip then continues. “Anyways in other news, a water pipe burst in your school, so you get a three-day weekend! That’s super exciting, congrats, kiddo.”

“No school tomorrow, yay.” Gabi yawns and lays back down, snuggling closer to Oso.

“Yep, no school, so just get some sleep, okay? Don’t think about anything but how much fun you’re gonna have with your dad on this three-day weekend.” Lyla urges, her tone soft as Gabi drifts off to sleep.

“Promise me you’ll tell Papá that Ms. Y/N is single.” Gabi insists, fighting sleep like a wild honey badger.

“I will, I promise. Now sleep, three-day weekend.”

“Three day weekend.” Gabi whispers, her head drooping, and her breathing evening out as Lyla dissipates from the room.

Miguel checks his watch to see a message from Lyla.

You couldn’t have been any more subtle with his death, could you?

He chuckles and dons his suit. Looks like he needs to get rid of a body.

Posting this while I wait for my flight bc I couldn’t wait any longer to get it to y’all!!!!

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue

#meg’s writing #miguel’s pastels #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara #Gabi’s pov #a little bit!!!#baby bug makes her first pov appearance!!!!

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 13 days

Text

04/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika; Samson Kayo; Kay Buchanan; Nathan Foad; Watch parties; GLAAD LAST DAYS; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so I apologize all-- somehow I missed that all the David Jenkins pics going around were NEW. I don't know why but I thought they were from a while back. My taxes brain really has me messed up. So these are from the past 2-4 days. Now it makes a lot of sense too as to why everyone's been honking louder! You can see him there at WB Studios, and yes that is him with OFMD fan-stickers on his laptop.

Source: Kinga Malisz' IG

== Taika Waititi ==

A small glimpse of Taika and his ginormous doe eyes on the set of Klara and The Sun. Src: Vas J Morgan's IG

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson was out in Abu Dhabi U.A.E sporting his Prada Sun Glasses! Chaos Dad and Samba happened to pop into his comments as well! Thanks @ashes-skye for pointing out these great photos! SRC: Samson's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan posted lots of cool things today on her instagram! Stede's Dagger Sheath

Next up was the Gunpowder Pouches for OFMD

== Nathan Foad ==

Some first shots of Nathan in his role in #LovesLabourLost! Src: Royal Shakespeare Company IG

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Season 1 is done! Season 2 starts tomorrow with Episodes 1 and 2! Join Save OFMD Crew, and @/ iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== LAST CHANCE FOR GLAAD ==

Voting closes in two days, get your votes in while you can! Remember: you can vote more than once. 😉🏴‍☠️

IMG Src: @saveofmdcrewmates

== Fan Spotlight ==

One of our crewmates @/RabinaryCode on youtube has put together this cute Queen Parody for Rhys! Give it a listen if you have some time :) Vocals: @ferventrabbitao3

Lyrics: @tanteclem

youtube

== Cast Cards ==

To quote @melvisik "Tonight is Ian Alda (yup, related to Alan Alda) playing the clerk... reads notes Clark Clerkwell... person who told Stede he's dead "

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you all are having a fresh start to your week. I've heard good news and rough news, so I truly hope if you have good news, it stays that way and if you have bad news, it looks up for you!

I really am so glad to see people clowning though. I know no one wants to get their hopes up, but it's nice to see that kind of energy flowing through the fandom again. We deserve a little treat of hope once in a while and it warms my heart how much people are running with it.

Hope is the dream lovelies. All things spring from hope. Don't give up on it. Even when things feel the worst, hope is what keeps us going. I have so much love for you friends. I know we have our bad days, but I hope you know that no matter what happens me and the crew will send you love. We love sharing this space with you. Rest well lovelies. Some quotes about hope tonight:

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." - Emily Dickinson

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Sorry, tonight's theme is just... this interview because every time I see it it makes me smile so horrendously huge. I love them so much and certainly together like this. The goofy bastards. Gif Courtesy of @captain-flint

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #our flag means death #ofmd #rhys darby #taika waititi #david jenkins #chaos dad #samson kayo #ofmd bts #kay buchanan #nathan foad #watch parties

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pedriscroquettes · 1 year

Note

Pedri smut?

unless he puts a label on it, he’s single. | pedri

summary: you make sure pedri is single.

warnings: allusions to cheating (not really), smut. read at your own risk.

listened to butakera by la joaqui, alan gomez, & el noba.

the three girls, isabel, maria, and bianca all stared at you in disbelief. they seemed as if someone had run over their pet by the looks they had on display. you weren’t quite sure why they were all shocked at your behavior, you were being perfectly reasonable.

“she’s our friend.” isabel tries to reason with you to leave pedri alone.

“no, she’s your friend. i barely even know the girl.” you argue back. “plus if they were even serious he wouldn’t be looking at me like that.”

it was common knowledge that pedri and sylvia, a random girl that had just moved to the city, had been talking for the past couple of days. she had managed to somehow enter your social circle and claimed that her and the canarian had hit it off instantly. you didn’t wanna sound like a pick me girl but you’d known the player since he arrived in barcelona and he had never really made it out of the talking stage.

“what about girl code?” maria chimed in.

“what girl code? they’re barely even talking as it is. you saw him hook up with that girl gavi slept with the week before!” you defended yourself.

“okay but you saw her story she was at his apartment two days ago. you need to respect their relationship.” bianca decided to argue against you this time.

“okay? i was at his house yesterday doesn’t mean anything. besides i’m just looking for a one night stand.” you drown your drink.

“okay. fine but if that girl never speaks to us again it’s on you.” isabel directed her voice at you.

“sure, whatever.” you reply.

not a lot of time goes by before you’re in a bathroom stall with pedri. he was quite easily persuaded and had instantly hit it off with you. gavi had laughed at your whole interaction since all of y’all had known each other for some years and he knew both of you were bound to hook up at some point.

“so, how are you and uh-” you feigned ignorance. “what’s her name i can’t remember?”

“sylvia?” he asks.

“yeah! her. sorry just think the alcohol is getting to me.” you lied.

“why do you wanna know about her, right now?” he insinuates to the comprising situation you’re in. “you jealous?”

“i don’t really have anything to be jealous about, we’re just friends.” you reply. “besides i don’t wanna make out with somebody who’s in a relationship.” he laughs. you realize you really like his dimples.

“no, i told her from the beginning that i didn’t want anything serious.” he explains. “i also kinda have my eyes set on somebody else right now.”

he places his hand on your thigh and he slowly starts moving it up your leg. he gets dangerously close to your core before pausing. he looks you in the eye and you know he’s asking for consent.

“fuck me.” is all you could muster out and he just smirks before continuing his actions.

he manages to move your panties to the side to give him better access. you brace yourself but find that he pauses once again. you also realize that he thinks too much for his own good.

he drags two of his fingers to your mouth.

“open up.” and you do. you lick his fingers as soon as he places them in your mouth.

he doesn’t hesitate before he brings them back down to your core. this time he doesn’t pause again but instead he inserts both of his fingers inside of you. you immediately moan out, mentally thanking the dj for having the music on maximum volume. his fingers feel so good inside of you, you wonder why you didn’t approach him earlier.

he gets closer to your body and starts leaving kisses on your shoulder and in return you give him better access to your neck. you try your best to muffle your moans but the pleasure is too intense and soon pedri places his thumb on your folds, rubbing them. you’re sure you’re about to cum but almost immediately the door to the bathroom bursts open.

“he’s such a dick, he promised to take me home tonight and he’s not even here.” you recognize sylvia’s voice almost immediately.

you expect pedri to stop but he does the complete opposite he adds in another finger to which you respond by clinging harder onto his forearm. almost immediately he also places the palm of his free arm over your mouth to silence your moans.

“keep quiet.” he whispers into your ear.

“maybe he had somewhere to go?” isabel responds.

you just wished they would leave the bathroom soon. pedri was working your pussy too well and you were bound to cum soon. that man was talented on and off the field it was insane. not to mention the wet kisses and hickeys he was placing on your shoulder were driving you insane, he truly was the whole package.

“no. i think it has to do with the other day.” sylvia’s voice flattens. “he practically ended our relationship.”

you can’t help but clench harder around his fingers at her comment. it felt so satisfying. although, pedri can’t help but notice you squeezing harder around his fingers.

“i think you were a bit jealous.” he whispers against your ear.

you can’t help but come at the sound of his seductive voice. you pant against his hand hoping the girls don’t hear you. pedri slowly removes his two fingers and drags them to your mouth. you don’t know why you immediately open your mouth, maybe it’s because you’re fucked out of your mind, but regardless you suck his fingers tasting yourself. he then brings his fingers to his own mouth sucking on them himself and you’re about to go insane just looking at him.

“hey, i think i left my phone back at our table. can you guys come help me look for it?” and the four girls leave.

“fucking hell.” you drag your dress down and head for the door of the stall you’re in before pedri stops you.

“whoa. this isn’t a one time thing is it?” you’re confused.

“uhm, i thought it was?” you explain.

“what? i thought it was obvious that these last two years i liked you the whole time?” now you were completely lost.

“what the hell are you talking about?” you ask.

“my talking stages haven’t worked out because i can only think about you. you cloud my mind all the time.” he confesses.

“pedri-”

“no. please, let me take you out on a date?” he pleads. “next week after my game?”

“i’ll see you next week then.” you kiss his cheek and walk away.

#i cannot write established relationships for the life of me #pedri gonzalez #pedri #pedri smut #football smut #football imagine #ash writes #request

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babyangelsky · 2 months

Text

BL Challenge 2k24 ✨Day 4✨

Hello and welcome to @negrowhat's 15 Day BL Challenge! Full challenge can be found here.

Favorite Ship Dynamic: Sensitive Seme + Tortured Uke

I would like to thank @absolutebl for perfectly phrasing this dynamic in this post because it's an absolute favorite of mine. I love seeing someone who's been through the wringer finally get taken care of and loved by someone who adores them, I eat it up every single time.

To quote them directly, this dynamic consists of: An older sensitive sweetheart sunshine seme and a tortured dark scared tsundere uke.

Some of my favorite examples of this are:

King and Uea in Bed Friend

♡ gif by @heretherebedork from this set

Alan and Jeff in Pit Babe

♡ gif by @firstmix from this set

Prapai and Sky in Love in the Air

♡ gif by @nooowestayandgetcaught from this set

Runner Up: Black Cat + Golden Retriever

This dynamic is a very close second for me so I'm including it. It's just so fun. It brings me so much joy to see an aloof black cat of a person be loved to within an inch of their life by their golden retriever boyfriend who has zero chill about loving them.

Some of my favorite examples of this are:

Punn and Ashi in Be Mine Superstar

♡ gif by @gunsatthaphan from this set

Li Cheng and Mu Ren in HIStory 4: Close to You

♡ gif by @gabrielokun from this set

Ye Chan and Seon Yul in Love Tractor

♡ gif by @hup123hup123slapslap from this set

#BLChallenge2k24 #kinguea #bed friend #alanjeff #pit babe #prapaisky #love in the air #punnashi #be mine superstar #li cheng x mu ren #history 4 close to you #ye chan x seon yul #love tractor

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tokyo-debunkers-headcanons · 4 days

Note

is it possible to request da vagastrom ghouls + jin and luca and their reactions when someone makes their s/o cry (preferably romantic if that’s okie) i would really love to see ur ideas on this!

Ooooh! I love this one! Thank you for sending in a request!

ALAN MIDO

Alan is VERY protective of his partner. It doesn't matter if they could kick his ass in a fight, he is protective. The second he catches wind of his MC crying for ANY reason, he drops his tools and goes RUNNING to them (like my mans is SPRINTING).

He first and foremost makes sure that MC is physically okay before getting to what happenedm He's not the best at comfort so he starts by using his size and reputation to get info from any witnesses.

It actually manages to work somehow and as soon as he gets his hands on the jackass who made them cry. Its straight to the pit to make an example of them.

When the two of them are alone at last. He does his best to try and comfort them, but like I said he's not the best with that stuff. So the best is an awkward hug, a listening ear, and him trying very hard to find and play a YouTube video to make them feel better....but very they have to help him with it.

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

He heard from Leo that MC was caught crying while he was cooking and for once, he quickly made sure that there was no chance of a fire, and stops in the middle of his cooking to go find MC.

Sho, on the other side of things, kicks ass before anything else. He's dragging the dumbass to the pit and kicks the shit out of him. Sho doesn't hold back like Alan does. It was an clear win from the get go, so the Sho betters in the pit were taking candy from babies.

After wiping the floor with the dipshit, he runs back to MC, gently taking their hands and lead them right back to the Vagastrom kitchen. He sets aside whatever he was cooking beforehand and asked what they wanted to eat.

He won't take no for an answer, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't have the ingredients. He will take them out on Bonnie to get their mind off of things. When he has everything he needs, he'll make whatever they want to eat.

If they want they want to, he'll even try his hand at baking. With their help of course, but he's more of a cook than a baker. Anything to help his MC feel better

LEO KUROSAGI

Oh HELL no! They're done. Absolutely destroyed. No not physically, Leo doesn't fight.

But word gets around quickly, especially on the social medias but Leo waits for MC to come to him. In the meantime, he finds as much dirt as possible on whoever the hell was there.

He's looking at security cams, wickchat posts, tiktoks, etc. It takes him at MOST half an hour to find who fucked up. And another half hour to find out some pretty juicy dirt on whoever it is.

He used an alt account to leak said juicy dirt by the time MC came to him. When they do, he lets MC cuddle up to him and doomscroll tiktok with him, filtering out anything about what happened and focusing on animal and funny tiktoks.

JIN KAMURAI

This is another who would wait for MC to come to him. But if they take too long he's sending either a text or Tohma to go bring them to him

He actually sends Tohma to get details on what happened as soon as he can. Tohma being Tohma, gets all the details that Jin needs.

Jin looks for things he can use to make that person's life a living hell. Assuming they're a student, he uses his connections to get them all the way down to probation.

And te thing about Jin is, his lasts. He makes an example of this person for MONTHS or at least as long as he can get away with it.

As for what he does with MC when they're crying. I think he takes them to his room and puts down the tough guy act for once. He'll give them a little forehead kiss and talks all nice and quiet with reassuring words, but just this once. (That a bald faced lie, he's just too stubborn to admit he's soft for his partner)

#tokyo debunker #frostheim #jin kamurai #lucas errant #headcanons #luca #Vagastrom #alan mido #shohei haizono #sho #leo kurosagi

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ohanny · 3 months

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my take on what happened to kenta after canon and how he grew to love himself (and kim)

after it’s all over, kenta gets into some legal trouble. pete, of course, bails him out of it and gives him a job in his company but it very quickly becomes evident neither one of them is doing well. they have this weird dynamic where there is just too much water under the bridge for a fresh start. pete is way too distracted with his own angst to accommodate all of kenta’s needs and kenta is walking a tight-rope of needing to be good and useful to pete but not wanting to turn pete into another tony-figure.

they’re too awkward and can't communicate properly and one evening pete just pulls out a bottle of whiskey and they sit down and drink. they both get shit wasted and neither one of them knows who leans in first but then they're kissing. it’s… bad. neither one of them truly wants it and when pete pulls back, kenta gets up and walks away.

if they were struggling to work together before, they start downright avoiding each other after. one day, in an effort to get kenta out of the office, pete sends him over to the x-hunter garage to bring alan some papers to sign and that’s when kenta runs into kim again. their eyes meet and that familiar tension is back but this time kenta breaks first, looking down at his feet. “not gonna lie, i thought i would feel some kind of way about this,” kim says, “but man… you look like shit.” kenta huffs out a laugh and looks at kim out from under his bangs and okay, kim thinks, he is kind of cute. and he did finally shish kebab the right person.

so kim agrees to show kenta where alan is working and their stilted attempt at small talk goes a little like:

kim: so you work for pete now?

kenta: yes.

kim: you don’t sound too happy about it.

kenta: it’s something to do.

kim: some friendly, unsolicited advice? You look like you need a break. and like you need to figure yourself out.

kim walks away but what he said sticks with kenta even after he's handed alan the papers and gotten the signatures he needs. he is tired. him and pete can barely look each other in the eye and every time it happens, he gets this familiar sense of doom and anxiety in the pit of his stomach, feeling like he's done something wrong and is about to get punished for it. so when he returns to the office, the first thing he does is ask pete for a leave of absence.

pete agrees immediately, handing kenta a credit card and telling him to take as long as he needs. so in the first selfish act in possibly forever, kenta packs his meager belongings and books a one way ticket to japan for the very next morning. he lands in tokyo and spends the first few days walking around but leaves the city pretty quick, taking a train and then a bus to a village he has no memory of but was listed on his birth certificate.

he works on his rusty japanese. he eats the food. he rents a small bungalow from an elderly lady and settles in. then one evening as he's watching the sun set on his back porch, he texts pete asking for kim’s number and after receiving it (with a question mark he does not answer), sends kim a picture of the said sunset with a simple “thanks for the advice.”

kenta doesn't mean for it to lead anywhere but they start texting. it starts out slow but as the days pass, the messages increase in number. kenta mostly sends pictures of his every day life with short captions because he still struggles with expressing himself. kim tells him about the new racing season and the ongoing saga of north and sonic dancing around each other, about how they’re finally getting their acts together but are so uncertain and awkward about it that both of them constantly keep asking him to third wheel.

and it's easy and safe and kenta never feels pressured so when at the end of the season kim mentions having some time off to travel, kenta doesn't hesitate to offer his services as a tour guide. they meet again at the airport where kenta drove to pick kim up and yes, it is a bit weird at first but then kim rolls his eyes and asks “so are we going to kiss or not?” and kenta laughs. kim’s never heard him do that before and he sounds so happy and looks so pretty that kim doesn't eve wait for an answer and dives in because they only have ten days and he is not going to northsonic this. (yes, kim would use that as a verb.)

they spend their time glued to each other, living in this happy bubble, but all good things must come to an end. kim is flying back and on the final day before his departure, he asks kenta to return with him. “if only for a visit. people care about you, you know? you’re still family to them.” when kenta says he doesn't know if he'd like to stay kim says it doesn't matter. “you don't have to. but you can't hide here forever either.”

and that's how kim ends up coming home from his hush-hush vacation with kenta in tow. this kenta is different than the one that left bangkok nearly a year ago. he looks healthier, has some color to his skin and walks with his back straight and head held high. still, he's nervous as hell as he walks into the x-hunter garage.

he's barely set a foot inside when jeff steps up and pulls him into a hug, telling him how happy he is to see kenta doing so well. babe is the next one up, looking kenta up and down and going “if this is what taking a break does, i might need one too.” (meanwhile sonic approaches kim, wiggles his eyebrows at kenta and goes “... nice,” offering a totally unsubtle high five that kim gladly accepts.)

kenta knows eventually he’ll need to go see pete as well and kim offers to go with him but he knows it's something he has to do alone. so he shows up at the office, near closing time, and knocks on pete’s door with a “you have some time for your brother or do i need to make an appointment?”

pete looks up from his paperwork and sees kenta. and fuck if he doesn't feel an enormous amount of relief? because kenta looks good. because kenta called him his brother. because in that moment he feels like he can have his old friend back without the baggage of the muddled feelings of adolescent love and sense of betrayal. pete needs that desperately. ever since way, he's buried himself i work to cope and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't close to his breaking point.

kenta: you know, a smart man once told me i needed to take a break and go figure myself out.

pete: and is the smart man in the room with us?

kenta: no. but he’s probably bothering your secretary downstairs even though i clearly instructed him to wait in the car.

kenta sounds so stupidly fond when he says this and it's very clear to pete exactly why he was asked for kim’s number all those months ago. but after that brief moment of kenta letting the simp shine through, he does get back into pointing out how pete looks pretty ragged and should rest, if only for a week. pete asks him if kenta would be willing to hold down the fort for that week but kenta just laughs, telling him he's shit out of luck. “i think i’m done doing business with you. or anyone for that matter.”

he explains how, while staying in japan, he started teaching basic martial arts and kendo to the neighborhood kids and he really likes it. that he's good at it and it makes him sleep better at night, knowing he’s helping kids defend themselves. he also hands pete his credit card back with a sly little “i don't think kim and his sponsor money approve me having two sugar daddies” and then says he really should go, that he has plans for the evening.

“are you free tomorrow?” pete asks as they stand up to say their goodbyes. “we could get dinner. as old friends.” “sounds good. i’ll call you?” and this time when kenta walks out of the office, he does it with the final weight off his shoulders. he goes downstairs where kim is, in fact, bothering the secretary, fingers nervously tapping against the counter. he looks so pretty in the late afternoon sun and kenta is struck by the sudden joy of just… being alive to experience this.

he takes kim’s hand in his and walks them out, knowing he’s going to be okay.

do i want to write this out as a proper fic? yes. is it likely i will create something i feel confident posting? no. so take this extremely self indulgent offering in the meantime?

#pit babe the series #kentakim #kimkenta #welcome to my delusions #if i'm not getting an epilogue i will make one up #i am so normal about these two

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muiitoloko · 3 days

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Hiii! :D I LOVE your writing!! Every day I come home from work I go to your blog to read if there is a new story🌟 I don't know if you're taking request; i would like to make a request about Frank Benson (Eye in the sky) x reader I haven't read anything about him 🥲 and I would like if you could do something fluffly❤️‍🩹 with smut💥 maybe like something about him being married to the reader and coming home after a bad day at work and he just needs to be in control and some release🔥and then the reader being comforting💖🫶

I don't know if that makes sense🙈

Title: In control

Summary: He wanted to be in control and you gave him control.

Pairing: Frank Benson × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, foul language and fluffy.

Author's Notes: Hey there! Thanks a ton for the love and support! Your dedication to checking out my blog every day seriously warms my heart! 🌟 As for your request about Frank Benson from "Eye in the Sky," I'm all ears! 😎 Your idea sounds like a rollercoaster of emotions, from fluffy to smutty to comforting—it's a wild ride! 🎢 And don't worry, even if it sounds a bit wild, it totally makes sense! 🙃 I've whipped up something I hope you'll enjoy! As for Alan Rickman in that military uniform, oh boy, does he look like a sin! 😏🔥

As Frank stepped through the threshold of his home, his shoulders slumped with the weight of the day's burdens. The familiar scent of home greeted him, a comforting reminder of the sanctuary that awaited him within these walls. Yet, even as he longed for the solace of his haven, the remnants of his stressful day clung to him like a suffocating shroud.

His brow furrowed in frustration as he struggled with the keys, his fingers fumbling with the metal implements in a futile attempt to unlock the door. With a muttered curse, he finally managed to coax the stubborn lock into submission, the satisfying click of the mechanism echoing in the stillness of the evening.

"Darling, I'm home," Frank called out, his voice a weary rasp as he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

As you heard Frank's weary voice calling out from the hallway, you quickly turned off the stove and removed the pan from the fire, setting it aside. With practiced ease, you slipped off your apron and made your way to where Frank stood, struggling with his uniform.

Seeing him wrestle with the buttons of his military coat, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the man you loved. His gray hair was slightly disheveled, and the furrow in his brow spoke volumes about the weight of the burdens he carried.

"Hey there, soldier," you said softly, stepping closer to him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Rough day?"

Frank let out a frustrated groan, his shoulders sagging even further under the weight of his troubles. "Everything's gone to hell today," he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I can't seem to catch a break."

You listened patiently as he vented his frustrations, offering him a sympathetic ear as he unburdened himself of the events that had unfolded throughout the day. His words painted a picture of chaos and uncertainty, a world where everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.

With a heavy sigh, Frank finally paused, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of weariness and longing. "I just... I need to feel like I'm in control," he admitted, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, you knew exactly what he needed—to let go of the burdens of the day and be comforted by you. With a gentle glint in your eyes, you reached for the buttons of his uniform coat, your fingers deftly working to release them one by one.

As his coat fell to the floor, revealing the holsters of his gun beneath, Frank pulled you close, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that left you breathless. You stumbled against him, the heat of his touch searing through you like wildfire as he pressed his lips to yours in a fierce, desperate kiss.

As the passionate kiss finally broke, you took your husband's hand, leading him to the bedroom with a sense of purpose. Frank followed, his steps heavy with the weight of the day's burdens.

Entering the bedroom, Frank began the familiar ritual of putting away his weapons, his movements precise and practiced. The holsters of his gun were set aside with care, each motion a testament to his disciplined nature.

But as he turned to undo his tie and the buttons on his shirt, you sat on the bed, watching him with a mixture of admiration and longing. Frank noticed your gaze and paused, his brow furrowing with concern.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You shook your head, a playful smile playing on your lips. "Nothing, love," you reassured him. "Just enjoying the view."

Frank's expression softened, a hint of amusement flickering in his brown eyes. "Flatterer," he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

As Frank continued to undress, you couldn't help but notice the frustration still lingering in his demeanor. His movements were stiff and mechanical, a stark contrast to the controlled precision he usually exhibited. It was clear that the events of the day had taken a toll on him, weighing heavily on his shoulders like an oppressive burden.

You watched him silently, your heart aching with the desire to ease his troubles and bring him the comfort he so desperately needed. But as he paused halfway through undoing his wristwatch, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of uncertainty, you realized that perhaps what he needed most was not your comfort, but your submission.

You stood up, approaching him with purpose in your stride. With a gentle touch, you reached out to caress his cheek, your fingers trailing lightly along his stubbled jawline. "Let me take care of you, Frank," you whispered, your voice a soothing melody that washed over him like a warm embrace.

Frank's brown eyes softened at your words, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the steely mask he wore. He nodded wordlessly, a silent acknowledgment of the trust you placed in him as he stepped back, allowing you to take the lead.

With a sense of purpose, you reached for the buttons of your own blouse, your movements deliberate and unhurried. Frank watched you intently, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and anticipation as you revealed the curves of your body inch by inch.

As the fabric fell away, pooling at your feet in a heap of discarded clothing, you stood naked before him, your skin flushed with anticipation. Frank's eyes roamed hungrily over your exposed form, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he took in the sight of you.

With a seductive smile, you dropped to your knees before him, your hands trailing lightly along his thighs as you looked up at him with adoration. "I'm yours to command, Frank," you murmured, your voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

Frank's chest swelled with pride at your submissive gesture, his arousal evident in the bulge that strained against the fabric of his trousers. With a confident smirk, he reached down to undo his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

As his pants and underwear fell to the floor in a heap, Frank stepped out of them with practiced ease, his arousal standing proudly at attention. He approached you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached out to pinch one of your breasts, making you moan softly in response.

With a hungry glint in his eyes, Frank caressed himself lightly, the sight of your kneeling form before him sending a surge of desire coursing through his veins. "You look so beautiful like this, my love," he murmured, his voice a low growl that made your heart race.

But even as desire threatened to consume him, Frank remained in control, his gaze unwavering as he issued his command. "Open your mouth for me, darling," he ordered, his voice tinged with authority. "I want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours today."

Eager to please your authoritarian husband, you obeyed without hesitation, parting your lips to accommodate him. Frank's arousal throbbed with anticipation as he positioned himself before you, his hands gripping your hair firmly as he guided himself to your waiting mouth.

With a sense of reverence, you took him in, your lips wrapping around his length as you began to suckle gently. Frank groaned in pleasure, his hips rocking forward as he buried himself deeper in your mouth, the heat of your tongue sending bolts of ecstasy coursing through him.

Lost in the rhythm of your movements, Frank's control began to slip, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he surrendered to the pleasure you offered. But even as his arousal threatened to overwhelm him, he remained mindful of your boundaries, his touch gentle and considerate as he guided you with a firm hand.

"Tell me if you want me to stop, darling," Frank murmured between ragged breaths, his voice thick with desire. "Just give my thigh a little tap, and I'll pull back, okay?"

You nodded in understanding, the sound muffled by the thickness of him in your mouth. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more intoxicated by the taste of him, the heady scent of his arousal filling your senses until you were lost in a haze of desire.

As Frank's arousal reached its peak, he couldn't hold back any longer. The controlled, disciplined soldier he once was faded away, replaced by a primal, insatiable hunger that consumed him from within. With a low growl of desire, he began to thrust into your mouth with increasing urgency, his movements rough and relentless.

Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, the heady mix of pain and ecstasy driving you to new heights of arousal. Frank's grip on your hair tightened, his fingers digging into your scalp as he used you for his pleasure, his baritone voice a symphony of sinful promises that sent shivers down your spine.

"Such a good little cocksucker, aren't you?" Frank purred, his voice thick with lust as he rocked his hips against your mouth. "Taking me like the obedient little slut you are."

His words sent a surge of heat pooling between your thighs, your own arousal building with each passing moment. You moaned around him, the vibrations sending Frank over the edge as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure.

But just as he felt himself on the verge of climax, Frank forced himself to pull back, his hand gently urging you to release him from your mouth. He groaned in frustration as he watched you obey, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his brow as he struggled to regain his composure.

"Fuck, my little slut," he gasped, his voice thick with desire. "You're incredible at that. But I'm craving something more. Turn around and grip the edge of the bed for me; I need to be inside you now."

You nodded obediently, eager to please your dominant husband as you reached out to grasp the edge of the bedframe. As Frank fell to his knees behind you, you couldn't help but protest about his knees, but before you could voice your concern, he silenced you with a sharp slap to your ass.

The sudden sting made you gasp in surprise, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you as Frank's calloused hand connected with your flesh. He caressed the spot he hit, his touch both soothing and electrifying as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

"Don't worry about me, darling," Frank said, his voice dripping with authority. "I'm in control here, and I know exactly what I want."

With a sense of anticipation, you held onto the edge of the bed, your heart pounding in your chest as Frank's hands roamed over your body. His touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

As Frank positioned himself behind you, you braced yourself for what was to come, your body trembling with excitement. But before you could prepare yourself, Frank slapped your ass again, making you cry out in surprise at the sudden blow.

"None of that, love," Frank chided, his voice firm but tinged with amusement. "You know better than to speak out of turn."

You bit your lip to stifle a whimper, your arousal building with each slap of Frank's hand against your flesh. Despite the sting of pain, you found yourself craving more, eager to surrender yourself completely to his dominant touch.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Frank playfully tugged your hair and brought his mouth close to your ear. "You enjoy that, don't you, my dear?" he whispered huskily, his voice carrying a commanding tone.

You whimpered in response, your body trembling with desire as Frank's words sent shivers down your spine. "Yes, sir," you gasped, your voice thick with need. "I love it when you take control."

A satisfied smirk spread across Frank's lips as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "Good," he whispered, his voice a husky rasp that made your pulse quicken. "Because tonight, I'm going to make you scream my name until you can't think of anything else."

With that, Frank's hand trailed down your spine, sending sparks of electricity dancing along your skin. You arched your back in anticipation, offering yourself up to him completely as he teased you with his touch.

As his fingers dipped lower, trailing along the curve of your ass, you couldn't help but moan in pleasure. Frank's touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

With a sense of purpose, Frank reached between your legs, his fingers finding your slick heat with ease. You gasped in pleasure as he teased your folds, his touch sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

"Look at you, so wet and ready for me," Frank murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You're going to take everything I give you, aren't you, my little whore?"

You nodded eagerly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Frank's fingers delved deeper, exploring every inch of your trembling body. You were his to command, his to please, and you relished in the knowledge that he would take you to heights of pleasure you had never imagined possible.

As Frank's fingers teased your slick heat, you let out a low moan of pleasure, your body arching instinctively into his touch. The sensation was electric, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you as he explored every inch of your trembling body.

"God, Frank," you gasped, your voice thick with desire. "Please, I need you."

Frank's brown eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to get everything you want, my little slut," he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "But you have to beg for it."

Without hesitation, you nodded eagerly, your arousal reaching a fever pitch as you pleaded with him. "Please, Frank," you whimpered, your voice desperate and needy. "I need you inside me, now."

A satisfied smirk spread across Frank's lips as he positioned himself behind you, his arousal pressing against your slick folds. "That's it, darling," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Beg for my cock like the filthy whore you are."

With a sense of urgency, you pushed back against him, your body trembling with anticipation as you felt the tip of him teasing your entrance. "Please, Frank," you begged, your voice a desperate plea. "I need you to fuck me, now."

Without warning, Frank thrust into you with one swift motion, filling you completely as he buried himself deep inside your throbbing heat. You cried out in pleasure, your body trembling with ecstasy as he began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate.

"That's it, my dear" Frank growled, his voice thick with desire. "Take my cock like the filthy whore you are."

With each thrust, Frank's control slipped further, his movements growing faster and more desperate as he surrendered to the pleasure of being inside you. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you chased your release together.

"Fuck, Frank!" you moaned, your voice thick with desire. "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

The sound of your voice sent a jolt of arousal coursing through Frank's veins, his arousal peaking as he felt your walls clench around him in a tight embrace. With a primal growl, he thrust into you one final time, sending you both hurtling over the edge into a sea of ecstasy.

As the waves of pleasure washed over you, you cried out Frank's name like a prayer, your voice echoing in the stillness of the room. Frank's release followed soon after, his body trembling with the force of his climax as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan of satisfaction.

For a moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a blissful embrace. With each ragged breath, you felt the weight of the day's burdens melt away, replaced by a sense of contentment and fulfillment that only Frank could provide.

After reaching the pinnacle of pleasure together, Frank withdrew from you, his body trembling with the remnants of his climax. Slowly, he stood up, feeling the ache in his knees that he chose to ignore for the moment. With a gentle tug, he pulled you to bed, wrapping you in his strong embrace.

As he held you close, Frank's chest swelled with a sense of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, my love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "For giving me control today."

You smiled softly, running your fingers through his gray hair as you leaned in to press a tender kiss against his lips. "Anything for you, Frank," you whispered, your voice filled with love and devotion. "You know I'll always give you whatever you want."

Frank's brown eyes twinkled with amusement as he pulled back to gaze at you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Well, my dear, in that case, get ready for the next round," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

You chuckled, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes as you playfully pushed him. "Oh, I'm always ready," you replied, your voice laced with anticipation. "But are you up for it, old man?"

Frank feigned exasperation, shaking his head with mock indignation. "Ah, the audacity of a woman," he exclaimed, his baritone voice filled with amusement. "Give me a minute, or perhaps ten. The refractory period is shit at my age."

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I know, darling," you said softly, stroking his chin affectionately. "But I miss the times when we were young and had sex all night."

Frank's smile softened, a hint of nostalgia flickering in his brown eyes as he pulled you closer to him. "Those were the days, weren't they?" he murmured, his voice tinged with longing. "But even now, with age catching up to us, I wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world."

You snuggled against him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a cocoon. "Me neither, Frank," you whispered, pressing a tender kiss against his cheek. "As long as I have you by my side, I have everything I need."

Your words trailed off as Frank's stomach let out a loud growl, prompting a blush to spread across his cheeks. He chuckled softly, a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression as he realized his hunger. "I guess I've worked up an appetite," he said sheepishly, his deep voice tinged with amusement.

You smiled warmly at him, the affection in your gaze evident as you got out of bed and wrapped yourself in a cozy robe. "Don't worry, darling," you reassured him, your voice gentle and soothing. "I'll have dinner ready for you in no time."

Frank nodded gratefully, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him as you took charge of the situation. With a contented sigh, he settled back into bed, the soft sheets enveloping him like a warm embrace.

As you left the bedroom to prepare dinner, Frank couldn't help but admire the way you effortlessly took care of him. Your love and devotion were evident in every gesture, and he felt a surge of gratitude for having you by his side.

With a sense of purpose, Frank made his way to the bathroom, his steps heavy with exhaustion. The warm water of the shower beckoned to him, offering a brief respite from the stresses of the day.

As he stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over his weary body, Frank felt the tension begin to melt away. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the warmth and comfort of the moment, relishing the sensation of being cleansed both physically and mentally.

With practiced efficiency, Frank washed away the grime of the day, the steam of the shower enveloping him like a soothing blanket. The rhythmic sound of the water against the tiles echoed in the small space, a steady cadence that matched the beat of his heart.

As he lathered soap over his body, Frank couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. It had been a challenging one, filled with difficult decisions and unexpected obstacles. But in the midst of it all, he found solace in the knowledge that he had you waiting for him at home, ready to offer him the love and support he so desperately needed.

With a sense of determination, Frank resolved to leave the worries of the day behind him, focusing instead on the simple pleasure of being present in the moment. The warm water of the shower was a soothing balm to his weary soul, washing away the remnants of stress and tension until all that remained was a sense of peace and contentment.

After thoroughly enjoying the rejuvenating shower, Frank emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and revitalized. He quickly dried himself off and dressed in fresh clothes, the weight of the day's burdens lifting from his shoulders with each passing moment.

As he made his way to the kitchen, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafted through the air, filling him with anticipation. He found you standing by the stove, a look of concentration on your face as you put the finishing touches on the meal.

"Smells amazing," Frank commented, his voice filled with appreciation as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace as you stirred the pot on the stove. "I'm glad you think so, darling," you replied, your voice warm and affectionate. "I made your favorite."

Frank's eyes sparkled with delight as he caught sight of the meal you had prepared. "You spoil me," he teased, a hint of mischief in his voice as he took a seat at the table.

You smiled fondly at him, the love in your gaze shining brightly as you served him a generous portion of the delicious meal. "You deserve it," you said softly, your voice filled with sincerity. "After the day you've had, you deserve a little pampering."

Frank's heart swelled with gratitude as he took a bite of the food, savoring the familiar flavors that reminded him of home. With each mouthful, he felt a sense of warmth and comfort wash over him, filling him with a sense of contentment that he hadn't felt in days.

As you watched him eat, a sense of satisfaction filled you, knowing that you had brought him the comfort and nourishment he so desperately needed. In that moment, there was no greater joy than seeing him happy and at ease, his troubles forgotten in the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal and the warmth of your love.

#frank benson #frank benson x reader #alan rickman #alan rickman x reader

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emblazons · 5 months

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Note: I am finally posting this (something that has been in my drafts for actual months) because @pinkeoni hurt my feelings talking about Will and Alan Turing). So...you can inavertently thank Robin for this LMAO

I don’t delve much into Stranger Things analysis anymore, but having just watched The Imitation Game, the biopic they made about Alan Turning in 2014—I’m thinking that maybe Will doing his presentation on the man might have an delightful (secondary) parallel to this film’s exploration of him, given Will’s burgeoning queerness + ongoing relationship with normalcy.

Throughout the film, the ongoing theme of "differences bringing about greatness/change" permeates every character, but Turing especially—something that the conversation he has with a character named Joan near the end of the film showcases well:

In this conversation, Joan is trying to encourage Turing to come out of depression and rely on her, given he is struggling immensely with physical effects of chemical castration—which he obviously resents, but feels is better than giving up the life he has and being “entirely alone” because of his sexuality / desires (sound familiar)?

This ongoing exploration of queerness as tied to greatness and/or otherness is something that is very often explored in Stranger Things as well, primarily with Will—to the point where Will has nearly the exact conversation Alan has with Joan with Jonathan in S2:

—in addition to us exploring the relationship between a lack of normalcy, queerness and even nerdiness through/by other characters like Robin, Mike & Lucas.

Now (as we all know), Will’s homosexuality has been forever and inherently linked to his otherness/lack of normalcy—whether with how he was bullied in S1-S2, his struggle to be open with his feelings for Mike in S4, or the million literal / metaphorical things in between, Will has always been encouraged not to conform, but still struggles to self-actualize enough to embrace himself fully…which most of us expect for him come S5.

Basically: the underlying theme of this film for Turning (much like the underlying themes at the heart of ST) revolves around how most people strive for normalcy, despite normalcy being undesirable if you expect to do anything great/interesting. While Turing was a homosexual man, he was also one who struggled greatly with fitting in overall—much like Will, which I think perfectly reflects how the Duffers have set up their S5 resolution + solving Will’s ongoing internal struggle with his romantic feelings for Mike + ongoing dissonance with normalcy.

(sidebar: there are articles exploring the idea of "embracing difference" in this movie that parallel Will's "Being Different." See: Embracing Difference - The Imitation Game)

Both TIG!Turing and Will exist in on the fringes on their respective worlds due to their differences and homosexuality—just as both of them are both most inspired by their (romantic) love for their male best friends....to the point that those relationships define their contributions to the story: Turing with the machine that helped the Allied powers break the Nazi Enigma code, and Will in ways I'm sure we'll be talking about in 2025.

TL;DR: While Will still has another season to sort through what his love for his best friend means for both his rejection of normalcy and his greatness, it's fairly apparent that (much like Turing) it is the embracing of both difference and homosexuality that leads to greatness—no matter how the world feels about that overall.

(We love it when the gays learn life lessons (and when they win)).

#byler #will byers #will byers core #alan turing #st analysis #my st commentary #st commentary #st parallels #stranger things #suprise byler commentary from Marie for Christmas? more likely than u think #this has literally been in my drafts since...at least four months lol. I pulled a bunch to finish it and I'm glad I did lowkey.#Its not stuff I talk about much anymore but. you will never not see me showing the masses how ST storytelling is reflected a MILLION places #ANYWAY #the me tag #gay mike wheeler #only kinda but. yes lol

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monaisdark · 9 months

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KEN x READER

➵ cws; f!reader, noncon, misogyny, talk of virginities, unrequited feelings, slight thoughts of death at very end, reader is a doll, bad ken :( ➵ a/n; ken is definitely ooc but idc i need him carnally. wrote this so fast after seeing the movie (amazing btw) spoilers be warned!!! p.s inbox is open ^^

Barbie's plan is in motion, and it seems like everything is going perfectly. Dolls are getting un-brainwashed left and right, including you. The moment you snap out of your trance and look down to see the incredibly small pink skirt and lace top dawning on your body, you can’t ever believe you agreed to wear that when Beach Ken gave it to you from Stereotypical Barbie’s wardrobe.

Ken. The one who started this mess. The one had you serving brewski beers and listening to long explanations on stuff you pretended to care about. A certain emotion pooled in your would-be stomach.

The Ken you used to watch pine after Barbie so deeply, the one that you always tried to console when Barbie rejected his advances. Now he’s taken over her house; well, Barbieland in general. How could he?

As Stereotypical Barbie hugs and welcomes you back as you leave the van, a thought pipes in your head. Maybe he’s doing this because Barbie doesn’t want him. She was so headstrong, front and center in every party she hosted, her smile iconic in every way imaginable. And Ken… was always on the side. Whenever he danced with you at her parties, his eyes were glued to her.

It hits you, he thinks this will work. That maybe she’ll turn around and jump into his arms once she notices what a big, strong, man he is. It won’t work and you know. But, he doesn’t.

A Barbie fills you in on what they’re doing, and how they want you to distract Beach Ken as long as possible while they round up more Barbies to un-brainwash them. Telling you how it’s perfect since he had you around a lot and he’ll be none the wiser to realize everything that’s happening.

♡♡♡

“Hi, Ken!” You exclaimed as he let you into his dojo mojo casa house. “Hi, (Y/N)!” A smile framed his face once he saw you. The artificial-looking moon hovered in the sky as a quiet hum surrounded you in the empty neighborhood.

“I was looking for you, how come you aren’t with everyone at the bonfire on the beach?” His face seemed to drop but he didn’t let go of his macho persona. “Wasn’t feelin’ it. Rather…” He thought for a second, “Watch horses. Y’know. Man things.”

You nodded, “Oh, yeah! Love all these horses you have around.” It clicked that he was avoiding things, avoiding Barbie. He wanted so desperately for her to come to his door. For her to come to him. Instead, it was you who knocked and stood in her clothes.

He huffed thanks and sat on the couch, you following beside him as he stared at a white horse gallop loop on the screen in front of both of you. It was obvious he was still bothered by his situation. A pang of sympathy left at the tip of your tongue, “Are you okay?”

This seemed to stir something in Ken, the air felt thick. “What am I doing wrong?” His voice was low. So quiet that you were almost sure it was like he didn’t want you to hear him.

But you did and you felt… bad for him. You grabbed his hands that laid on his lap with one of yours, “Ken, you can’t make something that won’t happen, happen.”

He brought his eyes from the TV to now stare at you. His blue eyes held something brooding behind them, but it didn’t deter you from continuing. “Some Barbies don’t have a Ken. Not everyone is made to follow a set of expectations, like how there’s one Alan… or me.” You trail off to include yourself, hoping he sees how you understand him.

“What I’m saying is, it’s okay that Barbie doesn’t want to be with you. I’m sure there’s more for you out here. Someone for you.” You tighten the soft grip you have on his hands to show comfort.

His face is almost unreadable, an uncomfortable silence echoes in the living room as you wonder if you messed up in trying to help. His hands now grasped yours, although a lot tighter than you’d liked. Ken chuckled, but it carried a sense of something you couldn't quite place.

“I’m an idiot!” His voice finally booms to break the silence in the house, “You’re right. You’re right. I don’t need her.” You would’ve been more optimistic in helping with his realization of independency but the grip he had on your hand was starting to hurt.

“I’ve spent so long trying to make her notice me, but why would I need her when I have you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to stand but he immediately brought you back down on the couch.

“No, no. That's not what I meant, listen to me–” He inched closer to you, using his strength to pin you down on the large couch. “No, you’re supposed to listen to me.” Betrayal, sadness, fear. So many emotions you weren’t used to swirled inside of you.

“You’re perfect, y’know? I’ve been thinking about this, us. I wasn’t sure but the way you’ve been by my side all this time, so ready to make me feel better.” He speaks as one of his hands leaves your wrists to dough at your breasts through your lace top.

“So happy to follow me around with bewski beers and to wear the cute little outfits I picked out for you. Dare I say, you look better than Barbie in them.” A dark laugh left his lips, the contrast making your stomach turn as he ignored your small pleas for him to let you go. “Now I see so clearly. We should’ve been together all this time! Ken and (Y/N). I like the sound of that more.”

You weren’t sure why your chest seemed to pound, or your mouth felt dry, or why tears pricked in your eyes. This wasn’t meant to happen. “What– what are you doing?” You felt almost twice as small as you normally were, wishing your body would shrink and wiggle out of his grasp.

His hand trailed from your chest to under your skirt, between your legs. A gasp left you when he rubbed the foreign part of you covered by a thin underwear.

“The books I’ve read said this,” His hand gave you an oddly warm sensation down there, “It’s important for us to be together. To make you mine.” Suddenly he spread your legs apart to peel down your underwear.

You’re terrified to move, not even noticing that there wasn’t a grip on your wrists anymore. His demeanor alone was enough to keep you down.

You knew what you had down there, a vagina, and you knew Ken had a penis. Though everyone in Barbieland had one or the other, nobody acknowledged it. It wasn’t something that was shunned per se, but it was like how some dolls had breasts and other’s didn’t. The peak of anything suggestive was making out, and even that disinterested you.

Now, whatever Ken is doing, is making you feel as if you're about to melt. His fingers circle around your entrance and you don’t even get enough time to get used to that feeling before he pulls away and starts lowering down his joggers to free his aching cock. His stupid faux mink coat already having been long discarded right next to your underwear.

His breathing is heavy, “That should be good, right? You’re ready now? For the sex?” Ken stares at your flushed state with lidded eyes, “I can’t wait anymore. Don’t worry, it should feel amazing!”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. He’s kissing you now, loud moans leave his lips as he sinks into you. Pain. It hurts so bad. Whatever he said about being ready, you definitely weren’t.

The stretching tears you apart and you’re unsure if the burn will ever go away. Ken’s body lays on top of you, a blubbering mess. “Ah, ah, this– this is great, so good.”

So many feelings overwhelm you in a way that it makes you want just to scream. Hate. Hate is the strongest one. You guys used to be good friends. Everything used to be right. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. You can only repeat that in your head once he starts to thrust into you.

“Y-you’re mine, aren’t you? Ah– I, I took your virginity. That means, agh– that means you have to stay with me.” His voice mixes in with the sound of his skin slapping into yours, he says something about patriarchy and virginities. He’s claimed you, as the book says.

You wonder how long this is going to last, you’re pretty sure he’s feeling amazing, but all you feel is an ache. The pain travels up and down your body as all you can do is whimper weak cries. “(Y/N), ah-- I love you.” Ken’s thrusting faster, trailing kisses down your jawline. “Say it back, (Y/N).”

No, you can’t and you won’t. Ken keeps moaning and saying he loves you over and over again. Each time it’s like he expects you to respond with the same thing back, you don’t. It doesn’t stop him though, his movements become more and more messy. You think he’s getting tired when a harsh snap of his hips with an especially loud moan takes your breath away. A new feeling. Full.

Again, you didn’t know what just happened. A confused sob is finally let out once you catch your breath, “Ken, what did you do?” You hope he understands you through your choked breaths.

He ignores you, taking sight at the mess he just made. White cum drips out of you, a beautiful scene. “Oh, (Y/N). I wish you can see how perfect you look right now.” His hug around your body is suffocating, "I'm so excited for us to do so many new things tonight."

The new thought of dying creeps into your mind.

#barbie 2023 #ken x reader #ken barbie #ryan gosling ken #cw. noncon #cw. misogyny #fem reader #dark blog #dark fanfiction #sorry for the hiatus lol

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

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Three for One 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: How are these getting longer lol

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

If you thought the darkness was torturous, the light proves to be worse. You look at your surroundings. It’s eerie. A room curated for one. For you.

The white fluffy stool in front of a matching vanity. A picture of a woman in white sitting in a meadow, flowers all around and a stream flowing through the lush field. A vanity painted with flowers, the night tables matching; the bedspread under you similar woven with pansies. The trim at the top of the wall is pink petals on white and a soft rug under the foot of the bed.

It’s all very cute but deranged. You’d love to have all this and more but you’d rather your apartment. If the price is those three men then you’d rather a gutter. Most importantly, you want your dog.

You can’t even make your demands. The walls can’t give you what you want. You doubt your captors will either but you can try. You can wear them down. You can be nice sure, you prefer that, but it doesn’t mean you can’t be your own brand of evil.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. The noise needles in your ears and you hear the mechanism click. You raise your head to watch the door open and the one with the beard enters. Alan, Arnold? Ugh, you don’t care.

He doesn’t break the threshold. He crosses his arms and stares at you. A ripple in his forehead underlines his thoughts.

“I’m going to bring you out but you have to be good,” he says.

You close your eyes and drop your head. You fill your chest and let out a blasting wail. He grunts and stomps to the bed. He grabs your shoulders, shaking you until you nearly swallow your tongue. You bite the tip as he sits you up and you’re forced to face him.

“No, no more of that. Or you don’t get your first present.”

“I don’t want any of your presents,” you sneer.

“This one, I think you do,” he intones, “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Let me show you that this isn’t just for us. This is about you, honey.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you hiss, “why can’t you just let me go?”

He shakes his head, “it’s too late for that.”

“I won’t behave. I swear, I’m going to scream–” you inhale and he quickly covers your mouth, his other hand coming around the back of your skull.

He hushes you as his blue eyes darken, “honey, I’m being nice right now, so you need to go along with this. If you don’t…” he pauses and looks over his shoulder, “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

You furrow your brow. Getting out of this room is one step closer to escape. You can be good. For now.

You let the tension leave your body and soften your expression. He senses it and slowly slides his hand away from your mouth. You flick your lashes, putting on your best pout.

“Okay, Alan, I’ll be good,” you avow.

His brow tweaks and his cheek ticks. His nostrils flare as his chest rise and falls, “it’s Andy.”

“Right, I’m sorry, I’m really freaked out,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “that other guy… he hurt me.”

“Which one?” He asks.

“Er… stache guy.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he huffs, “can I untie you?”

“Yeah.”

“No, honey, I’m asking,” he looks you straight in the face, “you’re not going to try anything, right?”

“I can be good,” you squirm, “my wrists hurt.”

“Alright.”

He lays you back and rolls you over. He pulls the tape away from your arms, then your ankles. You think of the trick from the van. You know his weak spot but it’s too soon for that. Timing, it all comes down to the right opportunity.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand and helps you up.

You get to your feet and let him lead you out. His large hand clings to yours as he pulls you after him like a child. As you go into the hall, you examine every inch of the place. He takes you into the front room, a low din that in any other circumstance would be cozy.

It looks like any other living room. A sectional and an armchair, an artificial fireplace set into the wall, a mantel trimmed in tinsel, a rich carpet spread over the dark hardwood, and shelves of books along with a television mounted to the wall. The tree in the corner stands bare over a red velvet skirt.

“We can decorate the tree tonight and see if Santa leaves anything for tomorrow.”

You hold back a scoff, “um, I know Santa isn’t real.”

He chuckles, “it’s a joke.”

“Is this the surprise?” You deflate. Sounds like work to you. Of course, your apartment is too small for a proper tree but you’re less than excited for a pastime you always longed for.

“No, not the only one,” he lets you go as you tug on your hand. “Honey, we did this all for you.”

You turn on him, “I didn’t ask you too.”

“Hey, hey, why are you acting like this? You’re such a sweet girl.”

You swallow tightly and hear beeping again. Then a clamour that includes a scramble, some scraping and the thump of a door against something else. You try to see past Andy as you feel cold air rush in from outside. You want to race past him but he’d be on you in a moment.

You hear a familiar growl before another voice wafts in from the entryway.

“Ah, he bit me. Again!” One man says.

“You think I’m having fun at the ass end?” The other retorts.

“Woah, oh, shit–”

There’s a duller thump and you hear claws and paws on the floor. Your heart leaps and you look around Alan– Andy as you hear the heavy breaths bounding towards you.

“Ernie!” You squeal as the Saint Bernard lumbers in, furtively searching before he spots you. “Ernie, my boy. Oh, baby boy.”

He nearly knocks over Andy as he barrels into your arms. You hug him around the neck and inhale the scent of his fur. His collar tinkles and let his warmth ease your fear. You were so worried about him, more than even yourself.

“You said it was a puppy,” the bare-faced man snarls as he shakes his hand.

“I didn’t know…” Andy says.

“He is a puppy,” you insist.

“Who let the pussycat out?” The mustachioed creep asks.

Your eyes shoot darts in his direction and his hand shields his pants, almost instinctively. Ernie drags his large rough tongue up your cheek. He was scared too but now you have each other.

“Surprise,” Andy says, “so now, honey, you’re going to be good, right?”

You look at him and chew your lip. His eyes fall to Ernie and you put your arm in front of the dog. He doesn’t need to put his threat into words.

“Shit, I’m bleeding. That thing got shots?” Scarf asks.

“What about the girl? She got me good,” Mustache snickers.

“No, but maybe I should get checked now,” you snip.

“Woa-ho!” Mr. Caterpillar exclaims, “she’s got a mouth.”

“Honey,” Andy warns, “we’re being good, right?”

You huff and nod.

“So, apologise.”

“What?” You burst out, “he–” You stop and look between all three men. You have Ernie but you’re more worried about him getting hurt than knowing he’d hurt them in an instant. Even then, he has his head low, a steady rumble brewing in him.

“That thing needs to calm down,” the naked faced one whines, still cradling his hand.

“He’s confused,” you defend your son, “okay? And I’m sorry, er, dude, I’m sure you don’t have any communicable diseases.”

“The fuck? Disease– Alright,” the man steps forward, “that’s it. First she bites me, then she kicks me in the dick and now–”

“Lloyd,” Andy puts his hand up, “no. We’re all just getting used to each other. You’re not exactly easy to be around yourself.”

“Fuck that, I’m funny,” the fuzzy lipped man, Lloyd, argues.

“Everyone just quit,” Andy demands, “alright? Did you get the food?”

“Food?” The bare-faced man shrugs out of his jacket, “what food?”

“For the dog? I told you–” Andy begins.

“Ah, shit, knew we forgot something,” Lloyd chuckles, “he’ll be fine. He can eat chicken, can’t he?”

“He has a sensitive tummy,” you say.

“Jesus,” the third man grumbles as he hangs his scarf over his coat. “I’m not going back. It’s late.”

“Can he have rice? Carrots?” Andy suggests.

“I guess, I don’t know if he’ll eat 'em,” you look at Ernie as his deep brown eyes meet yours. You pet his head to keep him calm. He doesn’t like these men any more than you do.

“Fine,” Andy huffs, “go get the decorations,” he orders the others.

“Why don’t you get the decorations?” Lloyd sneers.

“She needs to change,” Andy explains.

“Like we can’t help her,” the other man challenges.

“I don’t often agree with him, but he’s right. We’ll get her changed.”

You grimace as your eyes ping pong at the back and forth of their conversation. This isn’t good. You don’t enjoy being talked about like you’re not there.

“How about I get myself changed?” You offer.

The men turn to you. None of them seem impressed. A sudden peel of thunder fills the room and you look at Ernie. His bark echoes in your ears.

“Shut that thing up,” Lloyd snaps.

“He’s quiet,” you say, “he was just saying the same about you.”

“Really?” He goes to take another step forward and the other man stops him, “Ransom, let me go.”

“I’ll take her, you two go get the decorations,” he says.

Andy frames his hips and sighs, “fine. We all know the plan. Let’s stick to it.”

You want to raise your hand and clarify that you do not, in fact, know the plan but you suspect you’re not a part of the collective. You keep your hand on Ernie and gulp. He nuzzles your hip.

You bend and pet behind his ear, “it’s okay.” It’s not. You move to face him, “sit,” you raise your voice, “stay. I’ll be right back.”

As you stand, the dog obeys. He’s a gentle giant, at least with you. You pat his head and turn away. The men watch you.

“That thing listens?” The one they called Ransom asks.

“He can.”

“Come on,” he beckons you with two fingers, a smirk ghosting on his lips.

“This is bullshit,” Lloyd mutters as Andy approaches him.

“We can keep talking all night,” Andy pats his shoulder, “or get things moving.”

“Whatever,” the man smooths his mustache.

You reluctantly move towards the third man, the one with no personality grown out on his lip or jaw. A baby face if you ever saw one. The way he leers makes you uncomfortable. He smells like Armani.

“Not smiling now, are you?” He says under his breath as he ushers you down the hall.

He points you into that same bedroom. You stop just inside and he shoulders past you with a grumble. You watch him go to the wardrobe and open it. You look between him and the door. You could make it.

You wait a few seconds as he pushes hangers over the bar. You take a step. He doesn’t notice. Another and he’s bitching about colours. You didn’t think men were that picky. You get right in the frame of the door and back out. He looks around the open wardrobe.

“Bye,” you wave and pull the door shut.

You know he’s probably swearing at you but you can’t hear him. You hold onto the handle and hit the little lock icon in the corner of the keypad. The deadbolt rolls into place.

This is it. You edge out to the living room. You don’t see anybody. Ernie sits where you left him, sniffing the air. He sees you and perks up. You wave him over and he lifts his rump, taking careful steps across the room.

You grab his collar and take him with you to the front door. You twist the handle, it doesn’t budge. You flip the lock over it, still nothing. You don’t know what to do. What the hell?

You search around you. The windows are barred, you can’t get out that way. There’s a small box right beside the door. You flip it open to reveal another keypad. Fuck.

“And where are we going, pussy cat?” The question nips your ears as a plastic ornament pings off the wall beside you. You spin and face the mustachioed menace.

“You know, I just need some fresh air.”

Ernie growls and puts himself between you and the man, keeping the distance with his body. He prowls around, snout low as he paces back and forth. Lloyd steps closer and the dog mirrors him.

“Call that thing off,” he demands.

“Why would I do that?” You challenge.

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I made him stop,” he opens and closes his fist.

“You wouldn’t hurt a puppy–”

“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he tilts his head.

“Ernie,” you call the dog, “quiet. Sit.”

The dog lets out a wispy boof but listens. He flops his butt down and glares at the man. You put your hands up and step forward.

“You’re mean. How can you threaten an innocent dog?”

“He drooled on my Jimmy Choo’s,” he says, “come on,” he grabs you by the back of the neck, “let’s go get the dumbass out.”

Ernie barks as you whimper. You flutter your hand at him as Lloyd’s fingertips pinch into your tendons, “Ern, it’s okay, I’m okay. Stay.”

He must hear the panic. He remains, restlessly shifting his front paws. You march beside the man back to the hallway. You reach to touch his arm and he only squeezes harder.

“Shouldn’t blame you for trying,” he says, “but I will.”

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idontknowreallywhy · 2 months

Text

Resurface 2 - React

Smashed out some more words on the old commute. Am writing poor Virgil’s story from both ends now - this sits somewhere in the future where it all comes back to bite him (and happens immediately after this scene).

Train fic means unedited for now so please forgive heinous errors. Also it was a toss up between “solar flare” and “rare earth minerals” (thanks @gumnut-logic) for what is hampering Five and EOS for tension purposes - had to hamper them somehow else they are a bit OP. Also one of the other Thunderbirds has Magic so… *fudges everything*

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

“HOW CAN HE HAVE DISAPPEARED? WE LIVE ON AN ISLAND!!”

“I’m doing my best, Scott, but the solar flare is overwhelming some of Five’s sensors… there are only so many overrides EOS and I can…”

“Sorry. Yes. I’m sorry, John, it’s just…”

“I know.” The precise set of John’s jaw revealed his tension but otherwise he was projecting calm, sympathetic professionalism.

Scott looked around at the various shades of brave face the remainder of his family were wearing. Allie looked sick as a dog but stood tall and his shoulders were squared. Gordon was muttering aggressively and glaring at the island infographic as if it was deliberately withholding information. Brains was whispering to MAX and recalibrating scans at the speed of desperation. Kayo’s expression had set into neutral with the slightest tension in her frame which he recognised as her readiness to spring to their defence against… whatever was happening.

What WAS happening? It had been so fast and Scott had been so absorbed in his own thoughts he didn’t have any answer for what happened in the seconds between Virgil cheerily entering the room bearing coffee and him bolting like a startled hare.

“And he’s not been hiding an illness? His vitals were…”

“Entirely within normal range until 14 minutes ago when there was a sharp spike in heart rate and blood pressure for 6 minutes then he…”

“Disappeared.”

“Became invisible to Five’s scans, yes.”

“Maybe he took one of the boats?” Gordon ventured.

“Negative, EOS has scanned the dry dock, they are all still down there.”

“And no unexplained life signs?” Scott knew they’d covered this but he just couldn’t accept the answer.

John sighed but answered patiently “No, Scott that was the first thing we checked.”

Scott paced and tried to drag his mind out of the spiral of imagining the various scenarios in which his brother could be somewhere a life sign wasn’t. He needed to compartmentalise. This was just another search and rescue mission.

Rescue. Not recovery. Please not recovery.

“Ok. Manual search it is. Brains, you and Max use the drones to access the caldera and the more remote parts of the western slopes. Kayo, Gordon take Thunderbird Four on a clockwise sweep to check the beaches. Alan, you and I will…”

“JOHN!” EOS‘s voice was shrill and Scott’s heart froze.

“Thunderbird Shadow has commenced her launch sequence!”

Kayo’s eyes widened in shock.

“SHADOW? What? Why?”

Everyone looked blank.

“Is Virgil in there? Can you reach him?”

“Sorry Scott, she’s already cloaked and there’s no reply on comms.”

“Stop the launch then!”

“I can’t, we’re locked out.”

“I can.” Kayo, pulled up her remote access and wrestled with the controls for a few seconds before breathing a sigh of relief. “Ok, she’s not going anywhere. Um…”

Scott was already heading for the elevator to the hangars when his sister’s uncharacteristic uncertainty arrested him. He looked back. She swallowed.

“We may have a slight problem.”

“What? What is it Kayo??” Scott knew he was raising his voice but it was that or burst into frustrated tears which was… not an option.

EOS answered first.

“Thunderbird Shadow halted her sequence on the outside of the cliff face.”

Virgil was suspended over a death drop.

“Can we lock him inside?” Gordon had clearly reached the same horrified conclusion as his eldest brother had. Kayo shook her head.

Brains stepped forward “Unf-fortunately n-not as currently configured. The p-pilot’s ability to exit is always p-prioritised over remote a-access in c-case of… c-compromise.”

“I get it. Not your fault Brains. EOS?”

“I’m working on it Scott.”

“Good, in the meantime I’ll grab a couple of jet packs.” Scott headed for the hangar again.

“SCOTT! Wait!” John had dropped the professionalism which arrested Scott’s momentum faster than a brick wall.

“What now John??”

“Let the others go. You have to change.”

“WHAT?!”

“He can’t see you wearing… that.”

Scott looked down at the dress uniform he had forgotten he was wearing and ice crept down his spine. This… was the problem? He suddenly realised John knew something that he didn’t and cursed himself for not finding out what it was already. But now wasn’t the time.

“Right. You three, take jetpacks and get up there but don’t let him get out before I’m with you. I’ll be there asap.”

“FAB.”

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

continued…

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #kayo kyrano #thunderangst #earth and sky #Resurface fic

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maboroshi-no · 4 months

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Hamefura Movie Special Episode 1 (Novel) Translation

I Created a New Piece of Culture…

Author: Yamaguchi Satoru

I, Katarina Claes, was, since morning, happily working in the fields of the Claes house, when…

Geordo: Katarina, what are you doing?

Geordo, who had just arrived, called out to me like this.

Katarina: What I'm doing? I'm harvesting vegetables.

After I had cheerfully replied this, for some reason, Geordo put a hand on his forehead.

Geordo: No, I can tell this just by looking… Weren't we supposed to head to the Multaq caravan's tents today? And yet, why are you currently harvesting vegetables?

Katarina: Yes. I'm thinking of bringing my vegetables as a present to the caravan people, so I'm harvesting them.

Geordo: Bringing your vegetables… as a present?

Katarina: Yes, because freshly harvested vegetables are delicious.

I said this with a grin and next to me, Keith, who for some reason was making a tired face, said…

Keith: This morning, upon waking up, she seemed to have suddenly hit upon this idea, so she eagerly started harvesting vegetables like this.

…he said as if to add to what I said.

A while had passed since the arrival of the Mutlaq merchant caravan and the incident. With most of the reparations completed, I asked the caravan if we could watch their wonderful show again, and they agreed. So with everyone, we had planned to head to the caravan's tents together once we had all gathered at the Claes' house. I had prepared sweets to bring as a present, but in the morning, after I had woken up and looked at the garden bathed in beautiful weather, I could see my vegetables had ripened, so I had thought they would make the perfect gift and decided to harvest and bring them.

Good, they were perfectly ripe. As I was grinning while looking at my freshly harvested vegetables,

Alan: Why the heck are you harvesting vegetables right now?

After saying mostly the same thing as his older brother, Alan arrived. Next to him, there was Mary, whom he was escorting.

Katarina: I will bring them as a present to the caravan people.

After giving him the same explanation I had given Geordo,

Alan: But a duke's daughter of Sorcier giving them vegetables, this is just weird. They will think things about it.

…he said while laughing.

Katarina: But there may be vegetables they can't eat in Mutlaq, and more than anything, my vegetables are delicious, so it should be fine.

After I had replied this, Mary backed me up.

Mary: I agree. They mentioned that cultivating crops on Mutlaq's land was difficult in many ways and that they only had a few types of vegetables, so I think vegetables would actually make for a fine present.

Oooh, I see. I didn't know that at all. But after hearing Mary's statement, Keith and Geordo, who had previously looked reluctant, now seemed to think that it could work. Thank goodness.

Keith: But handing them vegetables like that is just…

After Keith had said this, Geordo also…

Geordo: I agree. Handing them vegetables like that lacks charm.

…he said. Hmm. It was true that normally handing them a basket might lack charm as a present. In that case,

Katarina: Please wait a bit.

After saying this, I grasped the basket containing the vegetables and returned to my room. There was a wrapping paper there that I had set aside thinking I might use it one day, so I cutely wrapped the basket with it. When I brought back my proud achievement to show it to everyone, the Ascart siblings, Sophia and Nicol, had just arrived.

Katarina: I'm thinking of bringing this as a present, what do you think?

I showed the wrapped present to the two of them. They couldn't see the content since it was enveloped in wrapping paper, so…

Sophia: What is it?

Sophia tilted her head. I told her "Just open it.", so Sophia said "In that case…" and carefully unwrapped the present.

Sophia: Eh?! Vegetables!

She was shocked.

Katarina: So? What do you think? Simply giving vegetables in a basket lacks charm so I tried wrapping them!

When I said this a little triumphantly,

Keith: In that case, just handling the vegetables in a basket would have been better.

Geordo: I agree. Their reaction when unwrapping the present and finding the vegetables inside will be awkward to deal with.

I got a "no" from Keith and Geordo. Alan just laughed like earlier, so I turned my gaze to the reliable Mary.

Mary: Well, this may indeed bewilder them a little.

I made her show a troubled face. And I thought it was a good piece of work.

Sophia: But the wrapping itself was cute.

Sophia tried to make me feel better, and Nicol too,

Nicol: It reminded me of the vegetable bouquet you gave me before.

…he said.

Katarina: A vegetable bouquet?! It might be a good idea.

The vegetable bouquet that I had given Nicol at his graduation ceremony in place of a flower bouquet. It had looked quite nice.

It hadn't included a gorgeous lineup of seasonal vegetables, but right now, I felt like I could make a good vegetable bouquet.

I tried rolling the previously used wrapping paper around the vegetables to make a vegetable bouquet.

The result didn't look so pretty since I made it quickly, but I felt like it would look great if I did it with more care.

Katarina: How about like this? Doesn't it look better compared to earlier?

After I had said this while triumphantly holding out the vegetable bouquet, everyone said things like "Better than the wrapping earlier", "Better than the wrapped thing", and "Better than the thing that we can't tell what it is because it is wrapped". And finally, Maria, who had arrived last,

Maria: It reminds me of the graduation ceremony. It is lovely.

…she said, so my vegetable bouquet safely got a passing mark as a present to the caravan. And like this, my vegetable present which had stirred a little commotion, the vegetable bouquet, was safely offered to the Multaq caravan and…

?: Sorcier sure has a unique culture

?: A major power really has a culture unique to a major power.

They said these in admiration and accepted the vegetable bouquet as part of Sorcier's culture.

Keith: Why did you allow Big Sister's nonsense? It was because I had seen the complete wrapping beforehand that I felt like it could pass.

Geordo: Mutlaq ended up thinking that Sorcier had a strange culture. What should I do as a royal of Sorcier…

Keith and Geordo held their heads, overwhelmed by the situation, and the others were looking at something in the distance.

And like this, I created a new piece of culture in Sorcier: the vegetable bouquet.

#hamefura movie #hamefura #my next life as a villainess: all routes leads to doom #katarina claes #geordo stuart #keith claes #alan stuart #mary hunt #sophia ascart #nicol ascart #maria campbell

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