#and then some rest so that he can hopefully bring the right energy into next year

[dracimexidae]

In other news MITICO GREGORIO HE WON LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

[nevadancitizen]

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale. 

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who. 

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth. 

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says. 

“I know,” you say. 

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.” 

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature). 

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says. 

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his. 

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s. 

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…” 

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that. 

-> KöNIG: 

König nearly always hates going undercover. 

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not. 

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles. 

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear. 

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are. 

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says. 

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor. 

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony. 

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless. 

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath. 

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light. 

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Backburner 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is easy going until he’s not. 

Characters: Sam Wilson, this reader is known as Dizzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The appletini goes right through you. Before you can trade your empty glass for your usual mimosa, you excuse yourself to ladies. You're always the one looking for a bathroom.

You scurry through the bar, growing racuous as nine o'clock approaches. You dip into the women's room and claim a stall. Ahhhh. They say you shouldn't break the seal but you don't have much of one.

You come out of the bathroom humming to the Madonna hit and nearly slam right into another body. Sam catches you by your shoulders and chuckles as he keeps you from falling out of your platforms. You giggle and take a step back, his hands falling away reluctantly.

"Hey, so how about that appletini? Delicious?" He asks.

"Oh, thank you, sir! That was so nice! You didn't have to buy the whole table a round."

"My pleasure. What's a girls night without a free drink or too, heh? I'm sure you get quite a few," he smirks. "With outfits like that?"

You look down at your fluffy sweater and the skin tight miniskirt. You don't show so much in the office. You only realise then you must look silly.

"Ha, thanks, sir, they sorta clash though."

"Look good," he winks, "so when do you girls start dancing?"

"Hehe, sir," you giggle, "my friends aren't really dancers. We're a bit old for that."

"Mm, really? You don't look that old to me."

"Well, I mean, we're not in college, you know," you tug at your feathery cuff, "anywho, my friends are waiting."

"Yeah, so are mine," his timbre dulls, "guess I'll see you Monday?"

"Monday funday!" You agree and bound past him. How nice to run into him.

You rejoin the girls as they chat about a classic movie drive-in being held down on the park. It sounds pretty cool. You offer to bring a blanket if they want to sit on the grass an watch.

The rest of the night blows by. Fridays always do. Saturday is full of catching up with your parents and your to-do list. Sunday still has laundry and groceries on your roster, with a few hours to chill and play animal crossing.

You arrive at the office feeling refreshed. You message the girls before you get started. All of them want to plan your next outing, hopefully sooner than later. It will be nice to get back into that habit, especially with all the changes that seem to be happening with your friends. Maybe next time you'll have something to report.

"Sam," you call over to him as he steps off the elevator, "I have your gym clothes!"

You hop off your chair and swipe up the bag from under your desk. You were sure to toss it all in with your weekend load. You round the desk and hand it over to him as he makes a face.

"What's wrong?" You ask as he accepts the bag.

"This," he raises the Dunkins cup in his hand and gives a blech, "some idiot I know recommended it. Not very good... more sugar than coffee."

"Oh, no, well, I can make you a coffee or run out to Roasters?"

"Ugh, why are you so good to me, b-- diz?" He groans and hands over the cup.

"It's my job! I'll be back in the flip of a bee's wing!" You promise, "not gonna lie, I need a breakfast smoothie like no one's business."

"Damn, that sounds better. Grab me one of those instead."

"Sure, what kind?"

"Surprise me, Diz. You always know what I want," he winks and swings his gym bag as he struts off.

With a mission, you jump into action. You sway in the elevator impatiently then burst out in a flash of energy. You go down to Roasters and join the queue. It's always busy but you don't mind the wait. You can watch the dog walkers and the birds on the wires through the windows. You order two strawberry kiwi shocks and tip the barista.

Back at the office, heads hang over desks, yawns waft through, and grumbles are aimed at screens. You flit by and breeze into Sam's open office door. As you do, he shoves something back into his gym bag.

"Oh, sorry, I... the door was open," you apologise and present the smoothies.

"Ah ha, yeah," he cringes and wipes the back of his neck, "um, I didn't know it was you but..." he dips his hand back in a pulls put a pair of familiar panties with a little blue bow on the front, "think maybe there was a mix up."

You giggle and set down the tray and quickly retrieve your underwear, "so sorry, sir! Must've been static."

"Happens," he chuckles as he watches you tuck the panties onto your pocket. "You know, I almost did think they were mine but uh... not really my colour."

You laugh at his joke, "stop!"

You touch your cheeks in embarrassment.

His dimples soften as he looks at you. His expression hardens and his dark eyes cling to you. His pokes his tongue out and hums.

"You were wearing those on Friday?" He asks.

You squeak, "sir!"

"Curious," he grabs a smoothie as he steps closer, "a skirt like that, what's the point of panties."

You cough and stammer, "Sam..."

He sucks on the straw as he keeps his gaze on you, a fervent heat radiating off of him. He pops his lips free and licks them, "I'll let you in on a secret, Diz," he comes closer and wiggles the straw at you, "I never wear any." He adjusts his stance as he sets his feet wide and watches you, "I like the freedom."

"Sir..." you gurgle.

"Why don't you do me a little favour? Your good at those, aren't you?" He purrs and slurps from the straw again, "go put those on and at the end of the day, you can leave them in my bag."

You're struck dumb by the suggestion. You're not the best nuance but he's being anything but subtle. Sam is a great boss and a nice guy, but he's being anything but right now.

"I can't--"

"You will," he grins, "just like you do everything I tell you, Diz." He looks down at the cup and turns it in his hand, "mmm, sweet... bet you're sweeter, huh, baby?"

He backs up and stirs the smoothie with the straw. You stare and blink. He's going to laugh and tell you he's playing around like he always does. He sits and stares at you. He's as serious as you've ever seen him.

"Don't forget yours," he motions at the other cup.

[berberriescorner]

“Echoes of Redemption”

Characters: Jay Halstead x Black!Reader.

Summary: After a tumultuous relationship marked by Jay Halstead's absences and affairs, you begin to rebuild your life.

Warnings: A smidge of profanity, a bit of humor, angst, anger, fluff, and a lil’ smut👀😆.

Word Count: 5,000+.

A/N: This is my first Halstead fix, but hopefully you lovelies will love it🩵.

Inspired By🩵:

Adam cradled your work bag and purse in one hand, his broad shoulders carrying the weight of your exhaustion. His free hand pressed the down button for the elevator, the soft ping of the mechanism cutting through the silence. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a brief moment, letting the weariness wash over you.

“Tired?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Exhausted. I could sleep for days,” you responded, the fatigue squinting your eyes. A massive yawn escaped your lips as the elevator doors slid open. You leaned against the wall for support, stifling another yawn. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“It’s all good. I hope you can get some rest once you’re home,” he said, as his voice comforted your frazzled nerves.

“Thanks, Adam. For everything. You've all been so supportive. Even if it's a bit awkward.”

The elevator dinged, and Adam gestured for you to step out first. He spotted a nearby vending machine and asked, “Did you eat today?”

Not waiting for your answer, he walked over to the whirring machine and purchased a bottle of water and a bag of smart popcorn. You sank onto a bench, grateful for the brief respite. Adam returned, popping open the snack and handing you the bag and the beverage. The two of you continued on your journey to the parking lot.

“Maybe this can give you a bit of energy.”

“Adam, you don't have to make such a fuss. You, Kim, Kevin, and Voight have already done enough. I can't believe she made a time chart so everyone can take turns escorting me to these appointments. She even has poor Dante in on it. That baby has his hands full taking care of himself. Bless his heart.”

“Are you kidding me? You're family. That’s what you do for loved ones,” he assured you, his eyes steady and sincere.

“Is this not awkward for you guys? Hailey’s your friend too,” you grudgingly admitted.

“Yes, but we knew you first. We're not going to abandon years of friendship over drama. We support her just as we do you. J—”

“Adam, please don't. The thought of him is even more stressful. Thanks for the snack. I can finish this in the car. I'm ready to get home to my comfy bed. It's been a long day.”

You caught a flicker of emotion in Adam's eyes, but he quickly masked it. Clearing his throat, he agreed, “You’re right. Let's get you home. Kim’s making me and Mak’s favorite dinner tonight,” he bragged, trying to lighten the mood.

“You bring baby girl next time. I miss her cute wittle face,” you demanded.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The walk to the exit grew quiet and tense. You glanced at Adam out of the corner of your eye.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah. Just thinking about a case,” he lied, his voice unconvincing.

As he opened the door, you started to press about the case. But your words caught in your throat at the sight of a figure standing across the parking lot. Your gaze locked onto the face, shock coursing through you. You spun around, the question about the case forgotten. "Tell me you didn't. What is he doing here?"

Adam scratched the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Sorry, sis. The moment Hailey found out, she said he deserved to know. It was either she’d tell him, or Kevin and I. Kim was against it all. Voight was neutral.”

“I told you I would tell him on my own time!”

“When would that have been? You've been putting it off for three months now,” Adam argued.

“You don't get it. None of you know the entirety of the situation. I'm not just some home-wrecking whore. If anything, my home was the one that took the damage. You might want to remind Hailey of that, given that she's out here giving an ultimatum based on my life.”

Your gaze fixated on the once-sparkling eyes that had the power to make your heart flutter. Now, those same eyes left your heart in ruins, a painful reminder of what was lost.

“Why are you here? Shouldn't you be somewhere across an ocean or something?”

Jay walked up slowly like he was approaching a wounded animal. He stood a few inches away from you, hands buried in his pockets, looking down. “I just want to talk,” he begged.

“Now you want to have a conversation? Why, Jay? Why are you here? You made your choice.”

“Did I make my choice?”

“Walking—sorry, running—away was a choice. Was it not?”

His eyes locked with yours as he pleaded, “I know you hate me, but please, just one conversation? I took leave as soon as I found out.”

“Are you supposed to get brownie points for that,” you snapped.

“Sweetheart—”

“You don't get to call me that,” you growled.

Adam’s hand rested on your shoulder, the turmoil between two of his dearest friends cutting deep. It reminded him of the trying times he and Kim had gone through. He held out hope that you two would find some resolve.

“You know this exchange needs to happen. Maybe you'll find clarity,” Adam said, looking you in the eyes. “I'm sure he’s come to his senses over the past couple of months. Surely he realizes he could have handled the situation better and that he was being stupid.”

"Thanks, Adam. That's incredibly helpful," Jay retorted with a sarcastic edge.

Ruzek shot him a glare. “As I was saying, this needs to happen. Do me a favor. Let him drive you home. Give him however much time you want to explain himself. Discuss the most important things. Then you can either reconcile or tell him to go to hell.”

Jay threw his hands in the air. Adam cut his eyes to him. “Being my bro doesn't give you a pass. I'm going to call you on your shit. You know that.”

“Reconcile? You must have confused me with Hailey.”

“Damn it, sis.”

“Fine,” you snarled, turning to head toward Jay's truck.

“Thanks! Love you,” Ruzek shouted as you flipped them both off.

Adam shoved your belongings into Jay’s chest. His voice dropped into a menacing, judgemental tone. “Glad to have you back, brother. Try not to leave things as messed up as you did the last time. When are you going to stop screwing her over and flipping her life upside down? You better make this right.”

“I will make it right with everyone involved.”

“No, just her. You've got to choose, and it needs to be her.”

“Who says I hadn't already tried to do that?”

“Yeah, and then you changed your mind.”

“That's not what I meant to do. You know what, Ruzek? I know I screwed up. Can we pause this lecture so I can try and rectify my mistakes?”

Adam paused for emphasis. He needed Jay to listen to the advice he was about to give, to let it sink in truly.

"You messed up, Halstead," Adam said, his voice gruff but laced with concern. "But you gotta fight for her. Show her you mean it this time." Jay clenched his jaw, the truth of Adam's words scraping at his already sore conscience.

“I hear you, brother. Truly. I’ve been stupid far too long, and it’s time I get my life in order. I just–needed to get away. To finish something I’d run from for far too long. I took that time away to figure out how to stop sabotaging the things and people I love most.

Adam nodded his head before laying into him once more, “I swear to God, Jay Halstead, if you mess this up again—if you don't manage to pull your head out of your ass—Kevin and I are going to knock you out cold.”

“It sure is good to be home,” Jay sighed, walking toward the passenger door. He unlocked it and helped you, vertically challenged as you were, into the monstrous truck.

The minute your butt hit the seat, you snatched away from him. He slid into the driver's seat, reaching across to buckle your seatbelt as he had in the past. He jumped back as you slapped his hand away.

“I’ve got it. Just drive.”

Half the drive to your apartment was filled with tense silence. Jay couldn't take it any longer. He cleared his throat, attempting to engage in conversation.

“How have you been? You look as beautiful as ever.”

Your head snapped to the side as if you had been struck. Jay kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel your piercing glare.

“Look, I'm trying not to raise my blood pressure these days. Do me a favor and keep the stupid ass questions to a minimum,” you hissed.

“Jesus, Y/N. No matter what I say, it’s going to upset you. I admit it’s well-deserved, but can't we be civil until we at least get to the house?”

“Civil? Are you trying to gaslight me right now? You don't deserve civility. How about we ride in silence? Nothing I say to you is going to be nice, Jay.”

“Silence it is.”

The sight of your driveway eased the tension in Jay's shoulders. He shut off the engine, the rumble fading into the quiet hum of the neighborhood. Stepping out of the dusty truck, his legs ached from hours on the road, but he glided to your passenger door.

"Hey there," he greeted with a hint of breathlessness in his voice. He started to reach out, but you mumbled a quick "thanks" as you slid out and brushed past him, already digging in your purse for your keys.

Jay lingered on the curb briefly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before the familiar puppy-dog eyes returned. You rolled your eyes playfully, the sound masking the growing unease in your stomach. "Alright, alright. I'll hear you out," you conceded, finally finding your keys. "But I swear if you—"

Your playful threat was cut short by the sudden seriousness in Jay's voice. He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours as he placed the keys inside your pants pocket. "I've got it," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the worn metal in his hand. He chewed his lip nervously a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"Why keep my spare key?" you asked, suspicion evident.

Jay hesitated, his shoulders slumping slightly. When he met your gaze again, his eyes were a storm of hidden emotions. Sadness mingled with something deeper, something you couldn't quite place. "I wasn't planning to leave," he admitted, his voice thick with regret. "Not for good, that is."

You sighed, the energy draining from your body like air from a punctured balloon. The weight of his words settled on you, heavy and unspoken. "Right," you said, your voice flat. "Just unlock the door, Jay. My feet are killing me."

As Jay unlocked the door and pushed it open, you stepped inside and felt a wave of relief wash over you. The familiar comfort of home was opposite the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. You kicked off your shoes and trudged towards the living room, dropping onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Jay followed, lingering in the doorway as if unsure whether to stand or join you.

You looked up at him, the silence between you charged with unresolved tension. "You can sit, Jay. I won't bite your head off. I'll try not to that is."

He nodded and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, his posture rigid. "Thanks."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet settling around you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Jay broke the silence. "I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But I need you to know that I never meant for things to get this bad. Before I get into all of that. I have to ask. It’s a stupid question, and I probably already know the answer. Why didn't you respond to any of my letters? Did you read any of them?”

“No.”

“Not even the emails or texts?”

“Nope,” you responded, emphasizing the letter p.

“If you had read them. You would've known that I tried to explain myself even if they were selfish reasons. Part of you may have understood why I did what I did.”

“Well, I didn't, Jay. You left without even saying goodbye. You didn't deserve another moment of my time. Be grateful you're getting it now.” You glanced at him, your expression guarded. "Why did you come back, Jay? Really?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "Because I found out you're pregnant."

Emotions crashed over you all at once. "So that's it? They tell you I'm pregnant and you come running back?"

"It's not just about the baby," he insisted. "I want to be here for you, for us. I realized that running away was a mistake. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just being a coward. I want to make things right, if you'll let me."

"Make things right?" you echoed, a hint of bitterness in your voice. "You think you can just come back and fix everything with a few words? Every time we've faced an obstacle, you've chosen everything over me. Your career, your fleeting moment of weakness for Hailey, even leaving to return to the army. How do I know this time will be different?"

Memories of your tumultuous past resurfaced. You and Jay had started dating years ago, your connection was instant and intense. Things got serious quickly, but Jay's fear of commitment led him to break things off and pursue a relationship with Erin Lindsay. When Erin left for an FBI job, Jay came running back to you, realizing he'd only gotten involved with her as a means to run from commitment as always.

You took him back, and things got serious again. Only that time his career became increasingly dangerous, and your constant fear for his safety caused a rift. He chose his job over you, and the two of you broke up. That time it hadn't hurt as much. You had no right to force him to choose between a career and the woman he loved. You took it as a sign that perhaps you just needed time apart.

After some time, you started to slowly rebuild your relationship, only for Jay to start having feelings for Hailey Upton. Though you know the responsibility lay mostly in your man. You still felt a way about Hailey deciding to pursue him anyway. She knew the two of you were amid reconciliation. Even with that knowledge, she still initiated the kiss and confession of attraction that confused Jay.

You argued over his feelings for the both of you and eventually, you broke up. Jay pursued things with Hailey, and while at first, it was just hooking up, things eventually got serious. Your weakness for him led to the two of you still sleeping together, but when Hailey discovered the two of you were still involved. Suddenly she wanted a committed relationship, Jay chose her. They got married (out of Jay’s perverse sense of loyalty and obligation to the team), and you tried to move on. But Jay's jealousy and selfish attempts to sabotage your relationships made it clear he was still not over you.

He soon realized he made a mistake getting involved with Hailey. You refused to take him back until he was a single man, and after a quick divorce, Jay struggled with wanting to serve a bigger purpose. It was as if he was in the midst of an early midlife crisis. Just as you two had started to rekindle your romance and rebuild, he up and left to rejoin the army.

As you were trying to pick up the broken pieces of your heart, you discovered the pregnancy. Jay found out from your friends and returned home to explain himself, determined to make things right this time. The touch of his fingers gliding across your cheek brought you back to the present. You tilted back from his touch.

“That's what you always do, Jay,” you began, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. “Run and leave me to deal with the fallout of broken promises and heartbreak. At every turn, you've chosen everyone, everything else, over me. Erin. Your job. Marrying Hailey! Not to mention she's not the first wife, but the second. What is it three times a charm? You’ve already knocked me up. Now all you gotta do is marry me and run. Just like you always do. Hell, you chose the military over me, Jay! So tell me, why? Why should I let you back in and risk you breaking this baby’s heart in the future? Why do you always run, Jay?”

His expression softened, his eyes filled with regret as he listened to your words. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. The pads of his thumbs swiped at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Because I was scared, honey,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of messing things up, of not being good enough for you. But I realize now that running away only made things worse, that I can’t keep hiding from my mistakes. I want to be here for you, for our child. I want to make things right, to be the man you deserve.”

Jay met your gaze, his resolve hardening. "No more running," he vowed silently. The fear of losing you forever was a terrifying prospect, but it paled in comparison to the regret of never trying at all. He had to face his demons and fight for the future he longed for.

More tears fell as you looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of sincerity. And there, amidst the pain and regret, you saw it – a glimmer of hope, a flicker of determination.

The weight of your history hung in the air as you sat together, the past intertwining with the present. Jay reached out, his hand gently covering yours. “I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’ve hurt you more than I can ever make up for. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I want to be a part of your life, and our child’s life, if you’ll let me.”

“I’m tired of being hurt, Jay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But if you’re willing to try, if you’re willing to fight for us, then maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work.”

Jay nodded, his grip on your face tightening ever so slightly. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes, sweetheart. I love you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the pang of regret. “It’s not going to be easy, Jay. We have a lot to work through. But I want to believe that you’ve changed, that you’re here for the right reasons.”

“I am,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve chosen wrong in the past, but I’m choosing you now. I’m choosing us.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice steady. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

Jay nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “One step at a time.”

As you sat together, the first glimmers of hope began to shine through the darkness. It was a long road ahead, but with determination and love, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way, together.

But there was something Jay had kept from you, something he had been working on while he was away. As you looked into his eyes, you saw a hint of hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty.

“There’s something else I need to tell you,” he began, his voice hesitant. “While I was deployed, I... I started talking to a therapist.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a million questions flooding your mind. “A therapist? Did something happen while you were away? Are you okay,” you rambled as your mind raced with a thousand different scenarios.

Jay took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Honey. Honey, relax. I'm not hurt. I realized that I needed help and that I couldn’t keep running from my problems. I needed to confront my past, to understand why I kept making the same mistakes over and over again.”

“And did it help?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. “Yeah, it did. I learned a lot about myself, about the things that drove me to make those mistakes. And I made a promise to myself – and you – that I would come back a better man, that I would do whatever it takes to make things right. I'm going to continue my journey with therapy. After all the pain I've caused. I think it wouldn't hurt to do couples counseling. Only if that's something you're interested in pursuing.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, a mixture of relief and gratitude flooding your heart. “I'd like that. Thank you,” you whispered, the words barely audible.

Jay reached out, gently wiping away your tears. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

You leaned into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. The weight of the past slowly began to lift, replaced by a sense of hope for the future. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew, but with determination and love, you were ready to face whatever challenges came your way, together.

Things grew quiet as the two of you looked longingly at one another. The faintest gasp slipped and you whispered, “Jay, you can't look at me like that.”

His voice low and husky, he responded, “How am I looking at you, sweetheart? I haven't seen or held you in quite some time. Admittedly, I'm the one to blame for that, but there isn't any other way I could look at you right now.”

“Please,” you begged. “Damn it, Jay. Look at me like I disgust you. Just, anything but the way you're staring at me now.”

“You want me to look at you with disgust,” he questioned, already shaking his head no. “That's not possible, honey.”

“Listen to me, Jay Halstead. I'm very pregnant and hormonal right now. I need you to be the bigger person and say that what I'm thinking is a bad idea. You need to be strong for both of us. Go home, Jay. If you don’t, we may give in to temptation. Why did you have to wear that damn uniform?”

He gave you a megawatt smile, slightly nibbling at his lips as if he was embarrassed by your compliment.

“Why, Mr. Halstead, are you blushing,” you questioningly teased.

N-No,” he spluttered.

A brief silence was followed by laughter. Once it ceased, Jay spoke in a soft, warm voice, “To answer your question. This is home, sweetheart. It is in my heart.”

And then, in a moment of weakness, as the pregnancy hormones surged through your body and desire flared between you, you found yourselves giving in to the longing that had been simmering beneath the surface. In each other’s arms, you found solace, comfort, and a renewed sense of hope for the future.

Jay didn't want to ruin things, but if something were to happen. He'd not only need consent and for you to set things in motion. He'd been given a chance to make things right. Jay wouldn't risk it all by making you believe this was the only reason he had come to talk.

“Don’t make me regret this, Jay.”

Before he could answer, you surged onto his lap, kissing him with all the pent-up passion you could muster. You both sighed and moaned as your lips met. Pulling away briefly, you pressed yourself into him. "There's no time for foreplay," you murmured.

Jay groaned as his eyes snapped closed. He grabbed hold of your waist, anchoring you to his lap. Slowly, his eyes peeled open. They were filled with hunger and uncertainty. “Are you sure, honey? I'd understand if you wanted to wait.”

Your hand trailed up his back, sending shivers down his spine as it glided sensuously up his neck and into his hair. Your fingers tangled gently in his light brown locks, tugging playfully. Your other hand encircled his throat in a delicate caress, “That depends. How badly do you miss me riding your thick, veiny, co-.”

Jay's growl silenced you abruptly, shattering his composure.“Ever the little tempting brat. Aren't you, sweet girl?”

In a feverish rush, you tore at each other's clothes. Pushing Jay onto the sofa, you straddled him, reclaiming your dominance. You descended slowly, savoring the sensation. Your pants joined his symphony of groans as you moved your hips. Alternating between rocking and moving in a circular motion. Pleasure washed over you both, leaving Jay breathless.

“F-fuck. Baby, if you squeeze me any tighter, this won’t last long.”

Being the petty brat you are. You allowed your muscles to contract around him again. Jay couldn't help but shake his head from side to side and chuckle. His eyes found yours, turning dark as they simmered with heat. Jay’s hand collided with your soft, ample, flesh. He reveled in the half moan, half whine it pulled from your lips.

His hands pawed at your hips possessively forcing you up to his tip before quickly pulling you back down. You both cried out and you begged him to do it again. Jay repeated the motion as he freed one hand to toy and pinch at your bundle of nerves. With every pinch and circle of his fingers, you climbed higher. The closer you came to falling over the edge the more your walls gripped his flesh.

“Let go for me, sweetheart. Can you do that for me, sweet girl? Hmm? Yes, you can. Can't you, baby? Come for me, sweetheart. Soak me and this damn couch just like I know you can.”

Jay slammed you down one final time locking you into place as he circled your nub. Your face buried into his neck as violent shakes paired with sobs. You ground against his lap riding out the orgasm. Jay held you close as he left kisses against the side of your head. He talked you down from an intense orgasm. “You’re okay, honey. You're okay. You did so good for me.”

He tensed hearing sniffles muffle into the side of his neck. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“Promise you won't leave me again, Jay.”

He lifted your head, his eyes filled with reassurance. “I promise, baby. Never again. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement as he wiped your face. He stole a quick kiss before pulling you back against him to cuddle again.

“Jay,” your question muffled against his neck again.

“Yes, baby-.”

His response caught in his throat as you clamped down on him once more. Your lips trailed from the side of his neck up to his ear. You playfully bit his ear and moaned, “You didn’t get to come.”

“Keep doing that and it won't take long, sweetheart,” he groaned.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as you stirred in Jay's embrace. The events of the previous night played like a dream in your mind, a mixture of vulnerability, longing, and desire. You glanced at Jay, still sleeping peacefully beside you, and couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your shared moment of weakness, you couldn't shake the feeling of hope that filled your heart. Despite the challenges and uncertainties that lay ahead, you knew that you and Jay would face them together, united in love and determination.

With a soft smile, you pressed a gentle kiss to Jay's lips, feeling a surge of warmth and affection between you. The kiss pulled Jay from his slumber. Blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his vision, he rubbed at your small but noticeable bump.

“Oh, I see put me back to sleep so you can nap some more,” you teased. “Fine by me, Halstead.” Jay smirked and continued rubbing in circular motions. Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, there was a loud knock on the door, causing you both to jump.

Jay chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling away. "I'll go see who it is."

As he made his way to the door, you heard familiar voices on the other side. "Come on, man. We gotta make sure Jay's still in one piece," Adam's voice rang out.

"Yeah, and see if they've reconciled yet," Kevin chimed in.

With a grin, Jay swung open the door to reveal Adam and Kevin standing on the doorstep, wearing matching grins and teasing expressions.

"Hey there, lovebirds. Just making sure Jay survived the night," Adam quipped.

Jay rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the concern, guys."

Kevin nudged Adam with a smirk. "Did y’all kiss and make up, or do we need to start planning your escape route? Blink twice if you need help bro."

You couldn't help but laugh at their antics, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "We're working on it, okay? Now, if you don't mind, we were kind of in the middle of something."

Adam and Kevin exchanged a knowing look before raising their hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. We'll leave you two lovebirds to it. But just remember, we're always here if you need a referee," Adam teased, earning a playful swat from Jay. Kim told me to say she expects a full run down over lunch tomorrow. She kept saying she wanted all the tea. What does that even mean?”

Kevin shook his head in disappointment. “Come on big dog. I'll have to teach you some new lingo on the way back to the precinct. Jay? Voight said you always have a job where he's concerned. Before you decline. Hailey is joining the FBI,” he finished with a wink toward you.

As they turned to leave, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the friends who always knew how to lighten the mood, even in the most awkward situations. As you snuggled back into Jay's arms, you felt a surge of passion coursing through your veins, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between you since the moment you first met.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Jay turned to you, his gaze filled with desire. "Well, that was unexpected," he whispered, his voice husky with longing.

You couldn't help but smile at the intensity of his gaze, feeling a rush of heat spreading through your body at the thought of being so close to him again. "Unexpected, but not unwelcome," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

As Jay leaned in to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you melted into his embrace, the passion between you igniting like wildfire. In that moment, all the doubts and uncertainties melted away, leaving only the burning desire that had brought you back together.

“I’m insatiable, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. That makes two of us, sweetheart,” he responded, brushing curls from your face. His heart warmed that he was able to hold you this way. Jay had missed the feel of your skin and moving the hair from your vision. “You might want to put your bonnet on this time. I don’t want to get in trouble for ruining your hair, love.”

“Smart man, Mr. Halstead,” you giggled, leaving feathery kisses along his jaw.

And as the passion between you intensified, you couldn't help but joke, "Maybe it's just the pregnancy hormones," eliciting a laugh from both Jay and yourself, knowing that the truth was far deeper than a mere hormonal surge.

How y’all feeling about this one? I hope I did Mr. Halstead justice. Be sure to comment and reblog lovelies🩵.

Tagging a few lovelies🩵:

@darqchilddaydreamz @sunshine-flower @astoldbychae @1andonlytashae @alertyoulikeitsamber @thirtysomethinganduncensored @starrynite7114

[xanticore]

Can you do a Lars ulrich fic where the reader is part of it can you do a dominant submissive relationship kinks where Lars is dominant and the girl or whoever is a submissive also the as well smut??

Back in 1984 in the hotel room???

I hope you enjoy anon! I don't like going straight into smut so yeah..it's a bit slow in the beginning but it gets juicy. promise.

“𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓’’

Genre: Smut

Setting: Summer of 1984 ,, New York

Warnings: Slight usage of the daddy kink (Lars gets so surprised by it) P in V, oral f receiving, pet names, and sailor mouth from Lars.

Summary: The band had finished their recording for ride the lighting. They all agreed to celebrate by hanging out at a club- getting drunk and hopefully be able to take a girl back to a hotel. Lately Lars hasn't had great experiences with the recent groupies he was with. None of them really fit his sex appeal. That all had changed when he saw a girl smoking alone.

"You gotta be fucking with me!" I blurted out before putting the phone back on the hook. A fan that goes by 'Lola' told me I'm an asshole. Maybe she's right. Only because I couldn't take how fucking horrible she was in bed. It really wasn't that great. I felt utter boredom with that chick.

"Was that Lola?" Kirk said in a teasing tone. I just huffed and rolled my eyes. "Of course it was. apparently I wasn't making her feel good, well tough world we live in because I didn't nut myself. Now we both can't have our way." I heard the other members let out a chuckle and it only made me more ticked.

For some reason, I could never find the fun girls like the others. They always had exciting fucking stories to tell about their night. Me, sometimes I either sleep alone or try to have fun with a girl that I bring back. Nobody was into anything I was. They just laid there and took it.

Im fucking 21! and I start my sex life completely shit. It's like I'm having sex with someone's grandma. Like Gross. I want some action. More interaction at least with a girl. I just wanna have fun till I can't anymore.

"Well, We did decide to hit up a club in downtown Manhattan. Maybe you'll find your girl there~" Cliff said giving me a wink. I forgot that quick we were in New York fucking city. "Oh yeah, New Yorker girls are totally hot too. Maybe you'll find that babe you're looking for." James added on.

I was now stoked for tonight. As the youngest in the band, I wanna try and have a good time and able to tell them stories. Stories that they can possibly relate to.

After being out all day, I took a quick nap in my room so I could have some energy for the rest of the night. I wanted to at least look presentable-but then got a reality check. Its a club filled with late teenagers and early twenty year olds. I just threw on a random band shirt with some black ripped jeans and some Nikes. I sprayed some cologne observing myself in the mirror.

"Come on Lars...you got this. Totally got this. We're gonna have fun and enjoy ourselves."

I talked with myself to give me some self confidence. I was full of it. Overly optimistic. I headed down to the hotel lobby where I was the last one to arrive. We had a personal driver that drove us to the top club strip of manhattan. The city lights of the ads and neon advertisements filled the night sky. It had my eyes 'glimmering' as Kirk would say.

We decided to walk along the strip instead, thanking our driver. "We'll take a cab back~" I said reassuring the driver. I saw him nod and left the van. The night life was now and all the adults were out in their club outfits walking along the sidewalk. It really had my heart racing in anticipation on how I'll end my night. Will it be good? or bad. Find out in the next episode of Lars' questionable sex life.

"Jeez, theres so many clubs. Should we just go to a typical twenty-one plus?" Kirk asked looking carefully at the signes that were out. It was different prices of alcoholic drinks during happy hour if you joind this club or that club. "No- Lets go to The Phantom." I said pointing at the bright purple neon sign. The club had a line literally wrapped around the corner of waiting club goers to get inside.

"Uhh. do you know that the Phantom is for...big shots?" Cliff asked as if he was confused.

"Uhh?? yeah. Thats why I said we should go there. Come on, I think we're big enough of a shot to party with the top class people." I said borderline excitedly, but still kept my cool.

"Ok but, we didn't even dress the part?" Kirk and James added in unison. I just sighed.

"Who gives a shit? Like come on it's a club. its gonna be dark. No one is gonna care about what we wear. Now get your asses over there."

Surprise surprise, there were people who recognized us. We did have shows in New York but it was nothing too extravagant. We were escorted to the front, showed our IDs and were in like a blink of an eye. "I guess you're right larsy~"

I just smirked at Cliff's comment. The music was pumping through its speakers and the flashing club lights were going in random directions. Everyone, dancing; and Kirk was the first one to get dragged out onto the dance floor with a girl. Cliff and James also had a pair come up to them, making me alone.

I just chuckled awkwardly looking around for somewhere to sit. All the seats at the bar was taken so that was out the picture. I didn't really care for sitting right now but I did want a drink in hand as I danced. I ordered myself a bottle of beer, taking it with me to the dance floor. Everyone had their partners but I didn't mind dancing alone having the occasional girls come and go.

Eight songs had passed already and my beer was halfway gone. I wasn't drunk but I desperately need another one to keep me occupied when i'm alone. I pushed my way through the sweaty crowd and back to the same bar. I gestured the bartender for another bottle and gave them a five dollar bill. I scanned the room to see my band mates with girls they found. I was a bit jealous to say the least.

James had two girls on him.

Cliff sharing a smoke with some biker chick.

Kirk was full on making out with someone at a vip table.

Me...at a bar on my second beer bottle with no action. It was time to mingle. I looked around for girls but every girl I saw just reminded me of fucking Lola. All the girls were just copy paste. Just when I was about to give up an leave, I see a girl alone at one of the vip tables. She was alone smoking a cigarette and drinking her drink.

Her hair was jet black and I couldn't tell what she was wearing from where I was standing. She looked hot from a far- could she be hot upclose?

I walked up towards her table- casually passing by Kirk who was still kissing mind you. I sat my beer bottle on the table causing a reaction out of her. "May I sit here?"

I asked politely..oh and by the way- she was totally my type of girl. She gave a gesture and I got in sitting across from her. "You know VIP only right?" Fuck, her voice was deep. "Yeah. What you don't think im an important person?"

"You're from Metallica aren't you?"

"I am sweetheart."

I saw her smile when I answered. She looked so shy and I couldn't really make out what she wanted. I kinda dig it. It was something new from a girl that I just met. "Well~ are you a fan- oop...speak of the devil hmm?" I asked her and just in the nick of time, one of our songs started playing.

"I'm a huge fan actually.." She confesses; tapping the cigarette ashes in the ash tray. Just by looking at her and her body language, I could tell she wasn't a groupie. She wasn't quick to ask anything about my wealth or even anything sexual. She was a genuine fan.

She made many first moves, by that I mean questions. Given her shy and quiet nature, she asked very interesting questions about the music and what's it like being famous. I never took the time to even think to myself about these things. With every questioned asked; I answered with full potential.

Being in the vip section of the club, waiters would come and go with drinks. She would get something fruity while I only had my beer. Luckily for this spot, I didn't have to pay.

"Excuse me sweetheart, I forgot to ask you your name."

"it's (name)"

"(name)? such a pretty name you got there baby. Care to join me on the dance floor?"

I gave her a wink before getting up from the booth. I walked towards her side pulling my hand out waiting for her to grab it. Her hands are so soft and pretty. Her nails were painted in a baby blue and a mood ring on her ring finger. When stood up I was almost towered. I was able to look her up and down and oh my god, she was so beautiful. From her height, her mannerisms, her features of her face-she seemed too unreal.

I manned up and guided her towards the glowing floor. It was a different song now. When Doves Cry by Prince was playing and I could clearly see little miss was a fan of him as well. All she needed was a couple more sips of her drink and baby was good to go. I watched as she mouthed the lyrics turning her back against me. I grabbed her hips helping her keep the rhythm.

I drunk a little bit more of my beer and carelessly threw it somewhere off the floor. Both of my hands touching her. She turned back around and her face was a soft color tint. We were both slightly drunk but still was able to recognize what was going on in our surroundings. I couldn't help but lay a kiss on those pretty plump lips.

It was a real pleasure feeling her kiss back. It was expected. I let her pull away and letting her continue dancing. She was teasing me and damn it I wanted her...

So i got her

The taxi ride back to my hotel felt like it was going on for hours. I opened the door to my room, I had her back against the door. I picked her up letting her legs wrapped around my waist. Our kiss was sloppy and desperate, no order was necessary.

We struggled to get our clothes off once we made it to the bedroom. I laid her down gently before taking my shirt off and letting her take off any piece of clothing she desired. She didn't have a bra on so her chest was immediately exposed to the cold air.

My lips around her hardened nipples as my other free went along to squeeze and grope her. She hummed and I enjoyed the reaction out of her but sadly it wasn't enough to my standards. I went up to her neck licking and biting the sensitive area that didn't take me long to figure out. My hands went down to her legs opening them, helping her slide her lace panties down.

I pulled away to see her now raw, naked body. She was fucking beautiful. She even had some tattoos, and a belly peircing. Fuck. My next move was to eat her alive. I saw her exposed pussy and couldn't help but smirk how wet she was. "You're glistening babydoll" I said slowly lowering myself down. My eyes locked with hers and she was shy at the fact of how I explained how needy she was. It was so fucking cute.

I let my tongue gently rub against her clit and the moans she made was what I was looking for. I continued confidently eating her out, making sure I tasted every drop of her wetness.

Hearing her whine and her fingers getting tangled in my hair was sending me into a frenzy. My jeans getting too fucking tight to handle but I was too busy to even care. All my focuse was on her and her only. Her moans were loud and desperate. Just how I like it.

Her back arches as she pushed my head further into her and of course-i didn't mind that at all. I tongued and finger fucked her hole, letting my other fingers slowly rub against her wet folds. She tasted like sweet sugar; something I never experienced before. I could tell she was close by her breathing patterns. I stopped causing her to groan in annoyance. "I wanna have some fun too~" I cooed lifting my head up to caress her cheek.

I took off my jeans and right when I was lining up to her hole, I had no condom. Fuck, I forgot to buy some earlier. I took a deep sigh smiling at her. "You don't mind me going raw do you babydoll?"

"I don't mind~"

I grinned and slowly pushed inside her. We both let out a sigh of relief feeling each other in intimacy. "Feels good baby?"

I asked. She hummed and that was my go to-to start thrusting. I found a rhythm but didn't necessarily followed it as my pace became desperate when I started to get used to feeling her. She was a moaning mess and her whimpers only made it better. I couldn't help but go a little harder on her.

"Daddy...it feels so good-"

My heart literally did at least two somersaults. I wasn't expecting her to pull that kink card on me and fuck I liked it alot. A little too much. "Oh yeah??" I smirked. I leaned down to kiss her on her neck, biting every possible place that I haven't touched yet. I moved my hand down to rub her clit in circles wanting her to be extra stimulated.

"FUCK..Don't stop please..." She cried out. I just chuckled.

"I had no plans to darlin." I responded, reassuring her. I pulled back and had my hand around her neck choking her. She was the first girl to even let me do this. Her eyes were turning red as it was starting to water. She looked so helpless..so submissive...it turned me on so fucking much. I was nearly close.

"Im gonna...cum...."

"Me too darlin...cum for me..cum for daddy yeah?" I continued to pound into her, the room filled with the sounds of our moans and skin on skin contact. "Fuck.." I quickly pull out and start to stroke myself. I released all of my cum on her stomach just in time. I fell down right beside her as we both tried to relax after coming down from our high.

I turn over to her and saw she was already asleep. It was a perfect opportunity to clean her up and let her rest through the night with me.

The next day

I was woken up by an empty spot in the bed. I frowned but it was flipped when I saw her note on the night stand.

Thank you for last night, I had fun. Sorry I couldn't stay until you woke up though, I had to meet back up with some friends. But here's my number if you still wanna keep contact *** **** - (Name) xoxo

I couldn't believe it, she gave me her number. My heart was honestly beating against my chest hard already.

It was time to head back home and of course, the last person to arrive. The others looked pretty bummed. "Good morning everyone...why the long faces?" I asked in concern. They just sighed. "I didn't get no action, nor sleep because all I heard was you and that girl" Kirk said as he had his arms crossed.

Lars couldn't help but blush out of embarrassment at the last part, but at the same time-couldn't help but laugh. "Seems like I'm the only one that got action huh? oh boy do I have a story to tell~"

a/n : Im still getting the hang of writing smut so please be kind!!!

dividers: cr to owners

[demonvampire180writes]

Groundhog Day Chapter 1

BuckTommy Fix-it Fic Rated: T

3,008 words

No editor/editing, Angst with a happy ending (Hopefully)

TW: Broken body parts, head injuries, major vehicle crashes, minor descriptions of blood

x-x-x-x

The sun is already high in the sky by the time Tommy pulls into the gas station, driving up the right side to a pump so he can fill his tank. He’s been driving since before dawn, already dreading the next week. He’s struggling to understand why his captain decided that he needs a break. He’s been fine. His work-life balance is just fine.

He’s definitely not picking up as many extra shifts as he possibly can just so he doesn’t have time to think. To contemplate. To regret.

Hopping from the truck, he stretches his arms above his head, exposing just a little sliver of his tanned stomach as he moves from one side to the other. Letting out a soft groan he taps his card to the reader and pushes the nozzle into his tank. As it fills, he absently observes the environment around him. There’s a lot of desert; soft brown sand and hard packed earth as far as the eye can see. A copse of trees a few hundred meters out from him blows steadily in the arid breeze, and he tastes the dryness on his tongue. It tastes like a southern evening sitting out on the porch in the dead of summer, a beer in one hand and nothing but the chirping of cicadas as white noise. Small tumbleweeds lazily crawl across the ground, being pushed this way and that.

Almost every car that approaches pulls off; it’s the first gas station he’d seen in going on a hundred plus miles. His truck still has nearly a full tank of gas, but he was itching for some form of caffeine, and it’s not like he has a destination in mind. Tommy’s plan is to drive until he feels like he can’t, and then hole up in some roadside roach motel and hope he doesn’t get eaten alive by bedbugs. It’s not been a full day and he already feels the way the thoughts are creeping in; the urge, the desire, to pull out his phone and dial a number he knows he should have deleted months ago but can’t.

The pump finally clicks and he drags himself back to reality. Without so much as a wayward thought, he returns the nozzle to its holder and heads into the small convenience store that’s attached, praying that it has more than black sludge to slake his thirst.

While the station did in fact have coffee, it wasn’t much better than the sludge found at the bottom of an ashtray, but he was drinking it for the energy boost and not so much the taste. Ever since he ended things with E… with Buck… he’s found himself drinking his coffee black. Is it punishment for finally finding happiness and throwing it away? He doesn’t know. What he does know is that he has to force it down his throat as it constricts because the stuff is so foul.

He’s probably only another thirty-five or so miles out from civilization when he manages to choke down the rest of it, tempted to throw the empty in the passenger side footwell but deciding to not be the sulky adult he is and placing it in the front cupholder. All the windows of his four-door are rolled down, scenery whipping by as old-school country blares from the speakers. Tommy installed it a few months after they’d gotten together, dreaming of one day taking a trip just like this with him. They would hold hands across the center console, Tommy bringing those rough knuckles to his lips to kiss as the younger man regaled him with fun facts about any and everything. Tommy’s plan had been to spoil the hell out of him. He wanted to show E… Buck… just what it means to be loved for everything you are.

A sob works its way up his throat and he can’t fight it back. The tears follow soon after and it doesn’t take long for him to feel like he’s driving blind because his vision is blurring. The sun sinks beyond the horizon as well and his headlights can only pierce the darkness so far.

Tommy grips the steering wheel, hard, as thoughts he buried deep resurface. Barbed wire made of steel snakes around his heart, leaving carnage in its wake as it tears the fleshy organ to shreds. His chest aches and he can’t draw in a breath. Is he hyperventilating? His thoughts are a jumbled mess and his body is on fire.

That’s the only logical reason he doesn’t see the semi with its brights on, careening towards him around a curve, its cargo tilted on two wheels trying desperately to right itself. He doesn’t even feel the impact at first. One second he’s driving along half blind and the next he’s strapped in his seat while the ceiling of the truck is now the floor. Pieces of the windshield crunch under his hand as he groans, groping for… Anything. His head throbs and he smells gas.

“Fuck.” He swears, fingers finding the release on the seatbelt. It clicks and he drops unceremoniously to the ground, hissing as pain he doesn’t have words to describe rips across his left arm. Vision bleary, he’s definitely got a concussion, he glances down and moans. The arm lays limply next to him, the index finger barely twitching when he tries to get it to move. Broken - shattered more like - but the nerves are still intact.

His head throbs and makes his vision swim, but he has to get out of here and call for help. If his phone still works that is. He looks to the driver side window and is thankful to see that, while the frame is bent, he can still probably wiggle his way out. It wasn’t going to be comfortable, but that doesn’t matter right now. Grabbing a sweatshirt that was nearby, he wraps his hand in it, tilts his face away, and breaks out the rest of the glass, attempting to sweep it out and away from the truck so he doesn’t have to drag his already battered body over it.

Once as clear as it’s going to get, Tommy lays on his back for what could’ve been hours, trying to will away the no longer dull ache in his head. His vision is a kaleidoscope of color and seems to be getting worse. He’s fighting to keep his insides where they belong, despite wanting to desperately throw them all up. There’s a high pitched ringing in his ears that he hasn’t had since his combat days overseas. Brief flashes of his time in Afghanistan flicker behind his closed lids but he manages to bat them away. They’re trying to lure him into sleep but no. Sleep is bad. He can’t. Not yet. He’s still in danger.

Grunting, he unglues his eyelids and peels them open, chest hitching as he forces back the nausea. Giving himself just thirty more seconds, he turns onto his stomach and begins the arduous task of dragging his 6'2 frame through a window not designed to be exited from. He cries out unbidden when his broken left arm catches on something, and he has to lay there for an eternity, sucking in deep breaths through his nose as he fights through the pain. “Get it together, Kinard. You’re a soldier.” He hisses through clenched teeth. Who cares if he sounds crazy? There’s no one around to hear him.

Finally, finally, he’s on familiar black asphalt. Heaving, he gets into a sitting position and leans against the cab. His arm is no longer in pain which isn’t a great sign. Neither is the fact that he can’t feel the pain in his temples. He’s likely going into shock, his body shaking from blood loss due to the innumerable cuts all across his body. One of his ankles is swollen all to hell as well. “Fuck.” He reiterates. What a shitty end to what was going to be a shitty week. At least now he doesn’t have to find a shitty motel to bed down in. With their current location he may not ever need to worry about laying down to sleep again.

That’s when he hears it. The silence of the night makes it echo. A voice, calling for help. Swiveling his head this way and that, Tommy tilts his head ever so slightly, trying to locate the sound. “H-help. P-please. Someone please. Hel-p me.” Following the plea is a whimper that shoots straight to Tommy’s firefighter heart.

The other driver he realizes. Instincts kicking in, Tommy hauls himself to his feet. Testing his one ankle he decides he can hoof it as long as he doesn’t put too much weight down on it. If you can call it lucky, it’s thankfully also on the left side so his damaged arm won’t be forced to dangle away from his body as he limps to the semi.

The cargo container is flipped fully on its side, having skidded ten feet from the bed. The chain holding it to the cab is clearly snapped. Tommy notes the much stronger gasoline smell. Then he spots what he can immediately tell is a fuel line, or something similar. Fluid trickles from the hose, making the puddle it’s in bigger by the second.

“Hang on tight, I’m coming.” He yells, hoping the driver is still conscious to hear him. He stopped calling out, or making any noise at all, as Tommy limped his fastest. The snub nose of the cab is totaled, looking like a poorly made white accordion. The driver’s door is more distorted than Tommy’s had been, showing him exactly why the driver hasn’t gotten out. The area near the handle is shoved so far back it’s making a triangle. There’s no way one person, an injured person no less, could push it open.

Finally he’s within reach. He’s not sure what he’ll be able to do, being injured himself, but he knows he’s going to damn well do everything he can. That’s when he notices the embers. Embers growing steadily bigger as they crawl their way along the mystery liquid. Tommy’s eyes widen comically. It doesn’t matter how injured he currently is, he’s suddenly on a very strict timer. The clock has been ticking, but for how long? The steel cargo hold must have sparked as it skidded. Tommy doesn’t know just how long he was out of it before he woke up and got himself to safety.

As he starts to yank on the distorted door, fingers digging into whatever open space he can find, he yells, “Hey, can you hear me? Is anyone there?” It’s hard to focus between his useless left arm, the concussion, and using his one good limb to yank at the door. “Hey, I’m firefighter Kinard. Say something if you can hear me!” The door gives just a little and he gets excited for a split second before realizing that it refuses to budge anymore. The embers are now an actual flame, and they’re gaining ground fast. “Dammit.” It doesn’t matter if the driver is dead or alive, he’s getting him out of there. No one deserves to burn to a crisp in the cab of their vehicle, dead or alive.

Hobbling around the semi he searches the surrounding area for anything he can use as leverage to get the door open. Unfortunately he left his own jaws of life at home, he can’t just carry them around in his back pocket you know, so he has to improvise. That’s when he sees it, a fallen tree branch as thick as his forearm and as long as his femur. Hopefully it will do. It has to. He pleads to a God he doesn’t even believe in. God forsook him years ago.

Gritting his teeth, he grabs the branch and drags it behind him back to the wreckage. With more difficulty than even the most uncoordinated person, Tommy manages to wedge the branch between the door and the frame. It groans under the pressure but doesn’t break. Sweat beading along his brow and under his pits, the back of his shirt soaked with it or who knows what else, he braces one end of the branch between his bicep and his chest, wrapping his arm around it like a cobra. Planting his foot, he wrenches his make-shift lever towards the truck. He leans against the cab as his muscles screen out in agony and the metal screeches as it rubs against itself. The branch begins to crack and Tommy is on the verge of passing out.

Please. Just a little bit more. He can feel the heat of the flames at his back, licking up his calves.

The door gives and Tommy lets out a surprised laugh sob. Dropping the branch he peers into the truck and sees the driver slumped over the steering wheel. Not even bothering to check for his pulse, Chimney and Hen would absolutely murder him for not doing his ABC’s before moving a patient, Tommy cradles the man’s head as best he can against his shoulder before wrapping an arm around his middle and tugging.

Thankfully the driver is light, a very slight Asian man, probably in his very late fifties to early sixties, likely just a few years from retirement, making it that much easier to pull him to safety. And he couldn't have gotten away even a second later because the next moment the entirety of the rig went up in a fiery explosion of flames, shrapnel like bullets flying everywhere. The ringing in his ears increases tenfold and he has to cover one with his hand and the other against his shoulder.

Once he’s certain there’s no shrapnel left to injure them further, Tommy begins the search for his phone. He finds it inside his own truck but his heart sinks upon seeing the cracked screen. Fingers shaking as the adrenaline high starts to wear off, he presses the power button and nothing. On the verge of a breakdown, he bites his lip and presses and holds the power button, sending out another prayer. At first nothing happens, no response. But the screen flickers, distorted and hardly legible, but that’s fine. As long as he can dial for help.

It takes an inordinately long time for his phone to boot up, especially considering it’s one of the more recent models because Ev… Buck… was tired of his phone always taking so long to load. His lock screen flickers into view, though it flashes in and out of focus, colors bleeding across the cracks. When he attempts to enter his pin to unlock it, the screen doesn't respond. He curses yet again when he remembers that most smartphones have a feature that can dial 911 without using the screen. His brain more scrambled than eggs on a Sunday morning, he wracks it trying to remember. Eventually it comes to him. It wasn’t a feature all phones have, but it’s one a lot of first responders used because they knew calling wasn’t always feasible. Fingers unsteady, he uses his thumb to hit the power button three times in rapid succession. He whimpers in relief as it begins to ring despite there being no more than one bar of service.

Setting his phone aside, he begins his cursory checks of the other driver. Placing two fingers at his throat, he finds a pulse. While slow, it’s beating steadily. The man has a nasty cut across his forehead in a diagonal line, bleeding sluggishly. He most likely has a concussion as well. All of his limbs seem to be okay, though they were likely going to be heavily bruised for a very long time. Tommy is counting respirations when the line clicks.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“My name is Tommy Kinard, firefighter pilot at Harbor station in LA. I was in a head-on collision with a semi in my personal vehicle.”

“Thank you, firefighter Kinard. Can you tell me your location?”

Tommy blinks. His vision is narrowing in, the edges turning black. His awareness is going. It takes her asking a second time for him to find his voice. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay, stay on the line with me while we find your location. Is anyone injured?”

“Yes. Myself and the semi driver. There was a gas spill or something so I was forced to extract him before it went up.” He breathes deeply and leans back against his totaled truck. “We’re both showing signs of concussions. He unfortunately passed out before I could get to him so I’m not sure how serious it is. My left arm is completely broken and my left ankle is swollen. Not sure of its status. He’s got a diagonal gash along his forehead that’s still bleeding and we’ve both got plenty of cuts.”

“Head wounds tend to bleed a lot. Is it still bleeding a concerning amount?”

Tommy assesses the driver before answering. “No. It’s almost stopped.”

“Okay, that’s good.” He hears her fingers dancing over the keyboard. “We’ve located you and I’ve sent emergency vehicles to your location. While you wait for them to arrive, I need you to stay awake. Do you have anything you can use to splint your left arm?”

Her words fade and his head lilts to the side. When he speaks he knows he’s slurring but he can’t stop it. “N-noo. No s’lin’t.”

“Firefighter Kinard, please keep talking. I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me? The ambulance is less than twenty minutes out. You’re in quite a rural area.”

No. No he can’t. His vision darkens until it’s just pinpricks of light. The last thing he hears before his body collapses to the side is the dispatcher frantically screaming out his name. His world goes dark and he’s dragged under, into the unknown.

He wishes that he could have seen his Evan just one more time, even if it was only to apologize.

My Original Word Vomit Inspo Post

Ao3

[cdmagic1408]

Okay…gonna break my Tumblr radio silence for a sec here because as a Quest Master, I feel that this is definitely important to address…

Yes, I read Dan Scanlon’s comic about him leaving Pixar on social media last night

I’ve been trying to figure out just the right words to say to you all because I know in some ways, this isn’t easy news to hear, and it’s definitely news like this that really makes a QM feel uncertain about what the future holds

But I think the most important thing I want to say about this is I feel incredibly grateful that Onward is in our lives ✨

Many movies and shows take several years to make, and ultimately, some of them never see the light of day...

Meanwhile, there have been times where I spend so much energy wishing Onward had more content and more respect/recognition than it has, that I take for granted the fact that we even have this magical world of wonder at all. If anything, that’s the main thing I’ve taken away from Dan’s comic and this news :)

There are not enough words or thanks I can give to Dan for bringing Onward to life, and how thankful I am that he made it from his own personal story that in many ways relates so much to my own life story to the point where I feel safe, and represented and seen as a fantasy nerd and younger sister with a loving older sister and mother as her family whenever I see or think about it in any context

I've also been reading the comments from other people on his posts and it really makes my heart aglow to see that this news has also brought a sort of unity in terms of how much Onward means to us all. That has shown me once again that while it's not always clear, many people do love this movie and consider it to be one of their all-time favorites from Pixar as much as I do, and the rest of you guys do!

So am I happy for Dan and excited for his new chapter? Absolutely!

Over these last 4 or so years, Dan Scanlon has been a big inspiration to me. His ideas, passion, and advice have inspired me to be a better storyteller, via Onward fan-novels and original ideas, and will hopefully continue to do so for years to come!

I’ve also really been enjoying the comics he’s put out this year, and I can’t wait to see what else he creates! I love his style, Onward and beyond, and fully support and wish him the very best of luck in whatever he decides to do next! 👏👏👏

So yeah, that’s all from me. I will definitely have more to say about Onward and how it has impacted my life by the time we reach its 5th anniversary in March. But until then, who knows when you’ll hear from me again, I just wanted to check in/say something 💜

[s-wave-entertainment]

Two original posts in one day, looks at how I spoil y'all (the three people who follow me)! Anyway

Due to the events of episode 2, "Heartbeat," I have been lead to hold the headcanon that Disassembly Drones do in fact have a heartbeat.

(New watchers, maybe hold off on reading this one-)

Hear me out - the solver core that came out of J's chest started pulsating almost immediately. I know that shortly after this it "activated" and unleashed "eldrich J" as we know her, but listen here - there's NOTHING THAT SAYS OTHERWISE. There is no logistical reason that I cannot hold the belief that the DD's core acts as a "heart" of sorts - ESPECIALLY SINCE THEY FUCKING BREATHE.

AND THEY DO FUCKING BREATHE.

"But Myrah it's probably just artificial and progra-" SHH. SHUSH. HIS CHEST RISES AND FALLS. LOOK AT IT. GO TO EPISODE 4 AND LOOK AT HIS CHEST RIGHT AFTER HE HAS THAT FLAHBACK, THE MF ACTUALLY BREATHES. AND IF HE BREATHES, THERE HAS TO BE A REASON. AND I CHOOSE TO BELIEVE THAT THAT FUCKED UP LITTLE T H I N G IN HIS CHEST IS THE REASON.

Now, that brings me to my next point. You may be saying to yourself, "Myrah, what about Uzi?"

A) She's a Solver drone which, due to Doll (and Nori), we know she DOES also possess a core, and

B) Tbh?? I'm lead to believe that workers have a heart-like mechanism in their chests as well.

Why? I'll tell ya, but it'll cost ya...

...The mental energy of reading the rest of this fucking post hear me OUT, hear me out, other drones breathe too (thank you Sam, episode 4; RIP in peace). And again, if they breathe, there's gotta be a reason. He also put his hand over the spot where there Would be a heart, if he were human. Now is this a silly gag that Liam did because haha funny? Maybe, but I choose to believe that there IS actually some sort of heart-like mechanism in there. Why? Well I can take this from episode 4 as well. When that one guy's head got shot off, the oil continuously spewed from his head, up and over. Gushing out, if you will.

BLOOD HAS A REASON FOR GUSHING. AND THEREFORE, SO DOES OIL.

Anyway. All this to say I need to see Nuzi content where one is lulled to rest by the other's mechanical heartbeat I need it and now hopefully you do to. Okay goodniiiiight ✨️✨️

[draconicsparkle]

So @kazinsblog and I had been talking for a bit and we decided that it would be fun to collab on something! So I drafted up a story and she drew a comic based on it! We will link each other’s posts so you can check each other’s parts out. Here’s Kazin’s side!

But yeah! This was a ton of fun! And I hope you enjoy it.

Even CEO’s need TLC

How long had it been since their clash in the Mystery Labyrinth? Days? Months? Years? He didn’t know. And truthfully, he didn’t care to remember.

Ironic, coming from the detective who was an amnesiac at one point in his career.

But it mattered little. All that was important was the here and now. The ‘here’ in question being the grand penthouse suite on the top floor of Kanai Tower, where the CEO of Amatarasu resided. Not many were permitted access to this place. After all, it was the home of the most powerful person in Kanai Ward. But Yuma had… special privileges here, being the original of the CEO and all.

Currently, said CEO was in his room, hopefully getting some sleep. Yuma had returned to Kanai Ward to check on his homunculus only to find him exhausted beyond belief from overwork. Of course, he couldn’t exactly fault Makoto when he himself had been guilty of that exact same situation. So he had simply closed the laptop, and guided the poor homunculus to his luxurious bed, and had turned the lights off.

So now, Yuma was cleaning the penthouse to pass some time. He reorganized the papers and books, tossed the snack wrappers in the trash, and dumped out the old coffee and energy drinks that were scattered around the desk.

Everything had been nice and quiet. A peaceful evening that would hopefully result in Makoto getting a good night's rest.

But those hopes were tested as he heard something concerning. The sound of glass shattering coming from the homunculus’s room.

Yuma dashed over to investigate, slowly cracking the door open and peeking inside. Makoto was sitting up on his bed, panting harshly and staring wide eyed at the destroyed mirror in the room. A small statue was on the ground near the glass shards, the likely candidate to have been thrown to break the mirror.

But the destruction wasn’t the concern at this moment. Makoto looked terrified and he needed to understand why.

“Makoto, what happened?” he asked in a level voice. He kept calm as those fearful eyes shot to him, the rest of the CEO’s body tensing upon catching his original in his sights. “Makoto, I promise everything is okay. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“No… no more. Please… no more,” the clone whispered desperately, his body starting to shake.

Yuma had a feeling he knew what had happened. A waking nightmare, possibly recalling memories from his captivity at the UG labs. He had read the reports on what they had done to their perfect homunculus, and the only way he could describe it was torture. Makoto had been made to suffer in so many ways for no sensible reasons. And it was clear that his exhausted mind hadn’t been able to handle the memories as well as he usually did. Leading to the mirror’s destruction, likely a defensive reflex from seeing what he perceived to be another person.

But the detective also knew a good way to help. So he slowly stepped forward, his expression calm and reassuring. “It’s okay, Makoto. I’ll help you. I’ll protect you. No one can hurt you anymore if I’m here. Okay?”

Makoto didn’t reply until Yuma had climbed on the bed and sat right next to him. “You… promise?” the all powerful CEO whimpered.

Yuma carefully wrapped his arms around his homunculus, bringing the shaking body in for a comforting hug. “I promise.”

Makoto almost instantly leaned into the hug, burying his face into Yuma’s shirt. The detective rested his chin on top of Makoto’s head, using one hand to stroke the unbrushed hair. He made sure to continue to be careful, as the man was in a fragile state. But he had no intention of going anywhere.

After a minute, he began slowly laying their bodies back down onto the mattress and letting their heads hit the silk pillows. Makoto kept clinging, and Yuma didn’t let go.

Yuma then recalled a song that he had heard Yakou hum on multiple occasions when he had been that helpless rookie sleeping on the couch. A nice tune that helped calm him down despite the constant stress he had felt on a daily basis. Maybe, just maybe, this might also work on his double.

So he began softly humming, continuing to stroke the long bleached hair. He felt the other’s shaking diminish until it stopped entirely. The grip he had on the shirt also loosened, the shaky breathing evening out and quieting as he listened to the song. It must have been a familiar tune to the CEO, as another voice joined in as the song started for a second time.

A good sign, because this meant that Makoto’s mind was focusing on the song more than the memories. So the humming continued, their voices working together to fill the bedroom with their own music. They continued until halfway through the third repeat, when the homunculus’s voice started growing quieter and quieter. Soon, it had disappeared completely.

Yuma let his own voice rest as he peeked down to observe. Makoto’s face was far more peaceful, sleeping without a hint of worry. Good, maybe this time he could stay asleep.

But the detective didn’t let go, continuing to hug his double to his chest as he closed his own eyes. Companionship and accepting help were still new concepts to them both. But perhaps, this night could be the starting point of something. Proof that they could get better.

But those thoughts could wait until the morning. For now, the two could sleep. To rest with the one who they trusted the most.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

hello i’ve got some thoughts and updates for this blog.

i’ve been on a bit of burnout for a while, including life outside of writing. naturally the termination has sped up that burnout. i’m exhausted and struggling to be graceful about it, but that’s to be expected. i’m not one to sit on my feelings even though i’ve lacked the energy to write. which really bites because that’s my number-one passion really.

however i’ve taken some time to relax by diverting my attention away from social media and niji streams. i’ve relearned an old hobby and splurged a little too much on a new one, and i kind of can’t believe how much i missed drawing on real paper with a real pen and pencil. and thank god the love and deepspace sponsorship wrapped up before the termination, because that game has me in not just a chokehold but like one of those umbilical cords from astral projection. the silver cord? that

i’ve been watching other vtubers lately as well. i’ve always considered adding holostars en to my list but hesitated because everything else on my blog was niji-related.

consider this confirmation that i will be adding holostars’ tempus hq, vanguard and armis, and first stage productions’ avallum to my list of characters i will write for. i admit i’m not as familiar with armis, but i’ll be paying closer attention in the near future as i branch out from strictly watching niji only.

(might also be adding idol corp’s e-sekai? maybe? i watch them once every few months and i haven’t seen pochi or yuko stream since they debuted 💀 no clue on their gen 2 either)

i’ll be overhauling my masterpost for organization soon. so apologies for the horrors about to come… to be clear i will not delete any of my writing so don’t worry!

i’m unsure how much niji i’ll write in the future. give me some time to think as the situation hopefully cools down. i appreciate your patience.

and who knows maybe i’ll write for non-vtuber fandoms too

i think it’s about time i clean my inbox out soon too. i‘ll answer what asks i can and delete the remaining ones. i’ve had a few requests sitting in my inbox for nearly a year now and i’ve recently realized how stressed i was over them and learned about some boundaries i didn’t know i had beforehand, among other things, so so it’s about time i face them head-on. i apologize if i never got to your request! please don’t take it personally if i don’t answer your request. but above all else thank you for being patient, understanding, and kind enough to send in a request. even though i tend to bite off more than i can chew i always get so happy whenever i see a notif in my inbox and i appreciate your time for a little unit 4402.

even though i’m not watching niji streams atm i’m hesitant to stop writing for them because, like, i keep thinking of this clip of doppio saying he feels like he’s allowed to buy healthy/organic food because of fan support and donations, and among other reasons... it’s very easy to make conclusions on people you only know through a screen and i just can’t bring myself to cut them out so abruptly, even if i’m a fan creator on a site none of them use.

idk when i’ll post next and it feels nice to say that. i usually try to post once every 2 weeks, but considering how i’m trying not to think about niji right now and am instead embracing other parts of my life, i dunno. it’s nice. this blog is a major source of joy for me and it feels like i’m preserving what makes it so special for me instead of turning it into a chore. hopefully with time and rest i’ll have a clearer idea of where to go from here.

that’s pretty much everything on my mind, i think? thank you for bearing with me and my yapping. i hope to return soon and that the next time you see me, my blog will be cleaner, more expansive, and with a fresh mindset. take care of yourselves and don’t get immersed in toxicity. don’t forget to do what you love 💛

[spaceratprodigy]

✏ WIP Wednesday ✏

Thank you for the tag @the-lastcall @captastra 💖💫

I haven't got any new drawings to share just yet! I'm taking a lil break to let my body and my brain rest. But I have been excitedly planning out the things I want to work on next and I genuinely can't wait! Not putting pressure on myself, but I've been super excited to work on some smaller oc stuff, some au stuff, and hopefully I'll have the energy to make some fun things for Halloween this year! :3

I haaaave been messing around with some quick ideas in my notes app tho, so I can share those today at least. Hope y'all like reading! 👇

🔍 — Detective au

"Maximillian, could you hand me that?" she asked, a soft teasing in her voice.

Max reached for the seasoning his companion pointed at, their fingers brushing against each other during the hand-off. Losing himself only for a moment thinking about the way his name sounded on her lips.

"I've never cooked anything like this on my own" he said, holding his head over the pot to take in the aroma.

"It's never too late to learn" Faith practically sang. "Thank you, again. For helping, I mean."

Max's eyes softened looking at her, the smile on her face was genuine. One she had hardly shown during their time together on this case. He wanted to spend every day in this kitchen with her, seeing her glow like this.

"Salami soup is an interesting choice, I've never heard of it before tonight. I'm sure yours is quite the delicacy." He meant it sincerely, but couldn't resist trying to get another playful smile out of her with flattery.

He began cleaning up the mess they had made while prepping. Carefully moving the knives and cutting boards to the sink, wiping up any straggling ingredients that didn't quite make it to the pot, turning down the volume of her little kitchen radio. The way she couldn't resist dancing along to the tunes she liked filled Max's heart with a feeling he still didn't quite understand yet. One he was afraid to acknowledge.

Faith looked at him with a comfort she'd never felt before. She ladled up some broth, offering him a taste. Her smile only growing when he winced from the heat, but agreeing it was quite delicious. She didn't expect to become so fond of her new partner, even less did she think the man she met her first day on this case would enjoy the quality time as much as she did. She heard the whispers about him, the warnings, but that clearly wasn't the man that stood before her.

Faith looked back at her pot with a tired expression.

"Funnily enough, there were quite a few of us in the same crowd who had grandparents or parents that came from Puerto Rico. It was a dish we all knew well, we loved talking about the differences in our family recipes" she stirred slowly, the sounds of the kitchen becoming drowned out by her thoughts.

"But weirdly, we all knew it as Spanish Soup! What a coincidence our parents all had the same name for it" she let out a short, quiet laugh. The corners of her mouth perking up, but her eyes unchanged, fixed on the simmering.

"Not quite the right name for it, though, but a weirdly consistent one. I'm not sure if it was a language barrier translation or what..."

Faith began trailing off and mumbling, not necessarily talking to Max anymore so much as she was reminiscing to herself about mundane moments from her past.

"Sopa de salchichon" she breathed, her voice almost inaudible.

"Is it a favorite of yours?" Max asked, trying to bring her back to reality. A slight bit concerned by her sudden change in tone.

Faith blinked.

"One of them, yes. But not my absolute favorite by any means" Faith began thinking about when she should make Max cook potato soup with her next. "It brings me some comfort, though."

"Does it, now?"

"Unfortunately, yes. My dad used to make it all the time" her voice had no enthusiasm in it anymore. She inspected her brightly colored concoction carefully. "He never did figure out how to cook the potatoes all the way through."

She attempted to ladle up a little bit of everything, admiring how warm it looked. Salami. Potatoes. Pasta. Onions. They radiated in their bath of popping reds, oranges, and yellows. She looked as if she was going to give it a taste, herself, but dropped it gently back into the pot.

The shift in her attitude worried Max, who was unsure of the direction this topic was heading.

"Were you close with your father?" he finally asked.

Faith was silent for a moment.

And another moment.

And another.

Max had realized too late the weight of his question when he heard Faith start sniffling.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't.. I didn't mean to overstep-" his own voice coming out and wavering before he had time to think.

He took a step towards her, immediately wanting to make it better, wanting to go back just a few minutes ago when she was smiling and dancing around the kitchen. Not knowing how to fix it, how to comfort her, not knowing her boundaries and not wanting to cross them.

Faith wouldn't look at him, the hot tears broke through and were running down her cheeks. Her eyes stung. She was desperately trying to dry her face.

"N-no, you're fine.. you didn't.." she was trying to speak, but her cracking voice wouldn't cooperate "M-max.." she wanted to reassure him he didn't do anything wrong.

Finally, she looked at him. Max had never seen her like that before. It made his heart sink in his chest. Instinctively reaching his arms towards her before he realized what he was doing. His hand so close to cradling her cheek when–

"Fuck!" — "Jesus Christ!" they exclaimed in unison.

The intrusive ringing of her home phone made them jump. Stunning the partners in place, left staring at each other and wondering what was about to happen between them.

📿 — Midnight Mass au [previous tidbit]

The light of the morning sun kissed her skin with a comforting warmth. The scent of honeysuckle on the faint breeze. It was peaceful. Normally she would have considered this the perfect start to her day.

Today, however, was far from perfect.

The gentleness of it all, it mocked her. How can the sky be so clear, the gardens blooming so beautifully, the children laughing so innocently. How can it go on when a storm was about to blow through. A storm no one else was going to feel, to even know was happening.

Faith felt her heart cracking and crumbling. She didn't know how she was supposed to do this.

Trying to keep her breaths calm, she continued pacing around the road she knew like the back of her hand. The one she often walked with a confident stride. Today, it was a walk of shame. Guilt. Her choices finally catching up with her.

Faith plucked a small flower from a neighbor's garden, hoping they weren't around to notice. She began pulling off the petals one by one, trying to keep her shaky, fidgeting hands occupied. It was so delicate between her fingers, so pretty.

It frustrated her.

Not because it had done anything in particular to upset her. She just wanted somewhere to direct her own internal conflict, and the little flower in her hands was the closest casualty.

Faith's heart began beating hard when the church began peeking into view. She swallowed hard, not realizing how dry her throat had become.

How do I tell him?

It was her one place of solace. She was kind, caring, reserved, but never cold. Faith tried her best to be an active member in her community, but it was still a bit out of her comfort zone at times to put such a strain on her social battery. Even more so when her Hiram had left for war.

She enjoyed the solitude of the church. She enjoyed even more what she never expected to find in it.

The last thing Faith thought she'd ever learn about herself, was that she didn't actually marry the love of her life. That becoming more involved in her local church would lead her down a blasphemous path.

An adulterous one.

Finally standing before the building in question, Faith took a moment to admire the architecture. It was a stunning building, a real work of art.

She began her trek up the stairs. The weight growing on her feet with every step. It was agonizing.

With the town's vicar, no less.

Faith felt light headed when she reached the top. Her ears were ringing, darkness was peering in from her peripheral vision.

What greater sin could we have committed?

The doors were open, the morning air saving the church from its usual stuffiness. The sun rays beaming in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the space with colors and dust particles alike. Faith had eyes for only one thing that stood in that room.

Vicar Maximillian DeSoto, very carefully tending to the appearance within his church's walls.

Faith's cheeks were hot, no doubt turning red just at the sight of him. Her heart fluttered in a way no one, not even her Hiram, ever made her feel. She never quite believed in soul mates, until she met Max, and they realized they were meant to be together. Unable to bear being apart from each other's side for too long.

Faith felt the tears welling up in her eyes, not knowing how she's supposed to have this conversation with him. Not knowing what news she was supposed to tell him first.

That she was carrying his child.

Or that her husband just returned home.

🚀 — Canon (summary; not the actual wip)

Faith has an emotional moment (more like an existential crisis) in Phin's lab regarding having been spontaneously dropped into Halcyon to fend for herself + an identity crisis about who she was and who she now has to be. Finding unexpected comfort in him being the only person who believes and understands her complicated existence.

They have a proper heart to heart and Phineas apologizes for the mess he's thrown Faith into without warning or preparation, finally filling her in on what the hell is going on.

Phin confesses that during the unthawing process he saw some things that gave him a clue about Faith's past. Being concerned for her wellbeing, he brings up the uncomfortable information he discovered. His new friend, quite unhappy with him, was hoping to put as much distance as possible between her past on Earth and her newfound identity.

[the-wintershade]

sleep companions

pairing: jacob lee x reader summary: black irons is a hard place to break free from; its roughness seeps into everything. But sleep helps brush off the hard edges and allow for a tenderness found in napping. wc: 1.5k+  genre: COMFORT, soft!Jacob, a lot of fluff, napping, caring for each other!! a/n: i too am a sleepy one; hopefully, this piece brings you wonderful dreams.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Jacob!” His name rushes past your lips as he stumbles into you. Exhaustion steals his energy. His steps drag against the ground and his breaths are slowing.

Your arm reaches to curl around his side, pulling his armored body into your own. You try to compensate for his lack of coordination as best as you can, walking slower and leaning into him so he can prop himself against your body.

He grunts as you weave his arm around your shoulders. “Sorry,” he huffs, voice right near the shell of your ear, “I just can’t get my feet to act right.”

The last few battles between those weird mutated creatures must have worn him out. Jacob took more hits to the stomach and torso than usual in your last skirmish. You had done your best to give him as much covering fire as possible, but eventually, you were tackled to the ground and forced to concentrate on saving your own life.

You haven’t seen many of those creatures in the last hour or so. Maybe it was about time to give yourselves a break before moving on to the surface.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” you adjust your grip on his torso. There are a couple of crates in front of you. He could rest there while you count your ammo, medical supplies, and other trinkets you’d picked up along the way. “Give you a chance to sleep for a bit.”

Jacob hesitates before continuing, your momentum dragging him along. “No. I’ll be fine. We should keep going.”

“You’re not. Besides, you’re not in any condition to fight should those things come back.” You lead him over to the crates and help lower him to the ground so he can rest his back against one. “We’ll be safe here, for now. I’ll keep look-out. Go over inventory.”

You slip Jacob’s arm, originally on your shoulders, over your head. Before you can drop it into his lap, his hand curls around your arm. “Really. We should keep going.” His eyes are wide and pleading, but the corners around them droop and his gaze is slightly unfocused. 

There’s no way you should keep going. The longer you take in his features, the more relaxed his body becomes. According to your calculations, he’ll be asleep in a few seconds.

“Sleep, Jacob.” You place your hand over his hand and squeeze it. Gently, you pry it off and carefully place it in his lap before moving up to check his health status. It’s green but teeters on yellow. He’ll need a med pack before you move to fight again.

You feel his gaze as you inspect his armor. “Hey.” His call is gentle and you meet his eyes with a softness you haven’t been able to muster in a while. Between the fights and general fear for your life, there hasn’t been much room for tenderness.

Jacob takes a deep breath, letting his eyes linger closed for a moment before he opens them, looking considerably closer to dosing off. A small grin crawls onto your face. He scoffs at your new expression but a light lingers behind his eyes. “You hear anything and I mean anything,” he leans over to nudge your shoulder, “wake me up.” 

You chuckle before tapping him on the shoulder. “The world will still be here. I promise.”

“Whatever,” he grins before closing his eyes. As he relaxes, his body learns toward where you’ve perched on the crate next to him, as if instinctively wanting to be closer to you.

A small, shy smile spreads across your face as you start to count your magazines for the second time. 

…

You jolt awake, frantically brushing off clawing hands and faces with sharp teeth. They felt like they were all over you, but now that you’re looking around, you realize you are inside the lab.

Jacob said he wanted to go over some upgrades. You only remember sitting down before blinking awake, arms swinging and flailing. 

The weapon machine’s whines mix with your cries of fear. As much as it grounds you, the noises combine in an overwhelming combination of sounds and you clench your eyes shut, trying to fight through the lingering screeches of the creatures in your ear.

Jacob’s voice cuts through it all, concerned and gentle. “Hey, hey, hey. You’re alright.” You hear him getting closer, now sitting next to you, body angled toward you, his hands automatically reaching for yours. “You’ve only been asleep for a little bit. Figured you needed the rest.”

You take a deep breath and slowly open your eyes, focusing on the ground first and then on his gently determined gaze. It made your stomach warm. It made being vulnerable easier. “I saw those…things. It was like they were all over me.”

He squeezes your hands. “I get what you mean. I see them too.”

You nod, both saddened that this horror-filled place still follows you into your dreams and comforted by Jacob’s presence and admission. At least if you both have to witness deadly beings, you don’t have to do it alone.

You try to blink away the sleepiness, but it doesn’t work. You can still feel sleep’s pull.

Jacob picks up on the way your body slouches over and your responding grip on his hands weakens. “Come here,” he mumbles, wrapping his arm around your waist and drawing you into his chest. 

Your heart picks up before a sense of comfort douses any rising anxiety. His head curls into yours. His lips ghost over the crown of your hair. “I’ll be right here. Go back to sleep.”

It takes no time for your eyelids to droop closed as you relax into his torso. It’s the first time you can remember Jacob being so physically affectionate with you but you’re not complaining. You like it, being close to him like this.

Before you sleep, you register a dorky smile on your face and a feeling of gratitude that you have each other.

You don’t have any more dreams of creatures. 

…

You’re on the tram, traveling between the colony and the inner lab. Wind rushes past as you sit with your back against a stack of boxes. They buffer the wind while your blinks start to slow into sleep. 

Absentmindedly, you register the cut along your cheek but you don’t think much off it. Your body is too tired to worry about wounds right now.

Jacob’s hands against your shoulders and cheeks slowly close your eyes as you absorb his tenderness. His thumb ghosts along your cheek as he tilts your head.

“You look alright. We’ll see what they have back at the lab to cover that.” Jacob sounds focused but you know he’s as drained as you are. Another stint with the creatures always does this. The only difference is this was the longest battle you’ve had yet, and there was one much larger than the rest this time.

It took almost everything you both had to beat them all.

Your eyes flutter open before you muster a weak smirk. “You look as tired as I feel,” you mumble, reaching up to grasp his arm before tugging him over near you.

He crawls so he’s next to you, resting his shoulder against yours. A painful grunt echoes off the box as he tries to get into place. You keep ahold of his arm, sliding your hand down to interlace yours with his.

Your squeeze is answered by him. A relaxed breath slips through his nose as his grip carefully tightens. 

“We should rest for a little while.” You whisper, already starting to lean your head toward his. To your pleasant surprise, your head brushes against his less than halfway. He must have been leaning toward you already. 

You feel him rest his cheek against your head, bringing your joined hands closer to him. “Yeah, good idea.”

“Jacob?” He adjusts his head so his cheek brushes tenderly against your head. 

He hums, “Yeah, (name)?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

“Yeah — yeah, of course. And thank you. You know, when we get out of here, let’s make sure we sleep on some actual mattresses.”

You chuckle and his giggles blend with yours. “Sure. But we have to sleep near each other. Just to make sure we hold up our side of the bargain.”

“Of course. I mean, that’s only fair. Have to make sure everything’s been honored.” 

You blush and shake your head, leaning into him further. You knew just as well as he did that the chances of you getting out were slim, but you also knew that you would not sleep nearly as well if he wasn’t there with you, right near you. Somehow, you think that Jacob thought about the same.

…

After a few years of being separated, fighting your way around other planets and new people, your paths meet again. For a minute, it’s awkward and you both stumble over words, but soon, it’s like you both were never separated.

And you get that nap. Together. Except, instead of separate beds, you both lay near each other, facing each other’s chest. 

Jacob reaches out first, an arm tentatively wrapped around your waist before drawing you gently closer until your hands are curled against his chest. He presses his cheek into your head as before and you press your nose into his collarbone.

You sigh and feel his smile as he does the same.

Finally. 

[taegularities]

hiiii, i’m new here so just a warning this is gonna be a long one 🙃 okay so i just wanted to say I FUCKING LOVE YOU RID!!!! I actually cannot stress it enough i have fallen in love with your writing, your art is so beautiful, and you know what makes it all a 100xs more enjoyable? your kind nature, YOU’RE SO KIND <33 i kinda scrolled through your account a bit after reading a few chapts of cmi and you’re the sweetest lil honey the way you take so much time to respond idk it’s so endearing to me mayn i’m in love w u 🙈.. i have fallen into a trap named rid and i fear you’ll never be rid of me (okah ahhh this is embarrassing, unfortunately my jokes don’t reach level kim seokjin butttt oh wells i tried :)

Anyways now that i’ve given you a lot of my attention (😅) let’s give some to cmi eh?! I’m currently on chapt 3? but first off CMI JK!!!!!! i’m sorry but he’s mine forever i adoreeee him. He’s a silly lil man but he knows when to be serious and he cares for her so much 🥺 right from the beginning girl chap 1 i’m telling you he’s her lovr boy from day 1 no one can change my mind.

And mccccc i acc love herrr, she has the vibes where she’s like ‘ugh i hate you🙄’ whilst her insides are totally squealing overwhelmed with butterflies, pls she’s so me in that sense. My lifestyle isn’t in anyway like hers but somehow someway i manage to relate to her she’s such a comfort to me i can’t explain it :( her inner monologue it’s like she just gets me, the over-thinker in us 🤧 so thanks for bringing her character to life :))

Also, i’d say i’m v good at reading characters, predicting stuff here and there but for the life of me Rid, i cannot read jk. he’s impossible. One minute i think oh he knows he’s in love the next i’m like ??? are his thoughts just as jumbled as hers? He’s just so ?:?/?/?/? Either way they break my heart and manage to piece it all back together in one.

and YOUR SMUT???? oh your smut is oh so delicious! like the ‘jk knitting his brows together and aggressively hmm-ing’ kind of delicious. YES. YES. YES. however.. i’m hoping for dom mc to come out. she was teased the teeniest tiniest bit in chap 3? and now i’m just a tad curious.

Also them talking about percy jackson and me currently reading percy jackson 🤭

AND all the star talk has me WEAK. i LOVE STARS, i love the sky, they’re such romantics, he’s such a romantic, a dreamer, he’s perfect god i’m such a sap

also really random but we have the same mbti Rid :) and then i got curious about who’s your bias bcs i have this thing where i believe you bias who reflects your personality most and we literally have the same biases and bias wrecker 😭taegikook will be the death of me 🙄😩

(okay so bcs i’m anon i stil want you to remember who it is everytime i post feedback so it’s Riaaaa. maybe i’ll add an emoji? 🐈‍⬛? yeah i’ll go with the 🐈‍⬛)

thank you for writing i’m excited to read the rest of the chapters i’ll be back with an update hehe and hopefully a better review and less waffling. love yaaa 🫂

- Ria🐈‍⬛

WELCOME THERE, RIA! please, i love your energy already, it's nice that you weren't too shy to reach out <3 and with a seokjin joke right away? cmon, that's so sweet 😭 i'm so happy you have been enjoying my blog, me AND my stories, like, what more do i want 🥺

YES YES, cmi!jk has my entire heart. i don't think i've ever felt so close to a character i wrote, so he just means a whole lot to me (and hopefully, to cmi readers as well) – he's silly, and he'll get sillier. reading him won't get easier either, and as you'll see, oc is gonna have a hard time doing so, too hahaha buuuut he's adorable and i love him :( same with our overthinking baby, oc :(((

AH YOU LIKE THE SMUT? lmfao i've been having a hard time with it, so it's good go know i'm not entirely failing and you're enjoying it :'D sub jk, yes? we'll see 😌

ahh yes, the star talk. you said you're new here so you're not used to it yet, but i love my stars and the sky (a little too much), so you'll find talk about it every now and then, in most of my fics 😭 honestly, i even tried to lessen that bit in cmi and replace it with flower stuff... there's a lot worse out there in my masterlist :')

your name and the 🐈‍⬛ emoji are so cute, babe !! drop by anytime 🥺 and i'll be waiting patiently hehehe i'm so happy they're comforting to you, and super excited to hear what you think of the rest 👁 enjoy it and welcome again, lovely 💕

[bubblyleaf-42]

Walvion: the time i let mages probe my mind and i killed a celestial 3/3

“Wake him up” a mage said. I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling. It was made of leaves and let in sunlight. My eyes darted around the room. Four mages surrounded me, one had energy leaving its body as it casted the last of the waking spells. To my left, Witxha sat in a chair half-asleep and leaning on the hilt of the sword I had in my consciousness. Asterion leaned on the wall next to her with his arms crossed. He shakily smiled at me and pointed to my right. I turned my head to see what he was pointing at. It was Euclapidices. He had tears rolling down his cheeks and a big goofy grin when he saw my eyes land on him. “We’ll leave you all to catch up.” The grand mage said. The mages left and Witxha shot up straight. “Oh my gods, you're alive!!” Witxha screamed. “Why wouldn’t I be?” i asked “Young friend, you almost died. Twice. You’re extremely lucky for your gauntlet to have an attachment to you.” Asterion said. “Yeah TWICE, YOU FORGOT TO MENTION WHEN HE DID DIE ASTERION!” Euclapidices shouted. “Wait, wh..” I tried saying. “Yes, you died, little stalker. The mages said you disappeared from them and your heart stopped beating. For several minutes, we thought you for sure were gone.” Eclapidices interrupted. “I was so scared you wouldnt come back that the mages had to put me to sleep so I wouldn't distract them.” Euclapidices was crying again and he tried his best to hug me while I was still laying. “Yes, the demigod does not lie. In fact your scars were glowing at such an intensity we thought the gods had claimed you in the afterlife. Then Zeus be damned, your gauntlet encased you in armor and contained your energy as the mages grabbed at the slightest hint of your consciousness. They said you were intertwined with some ancient being and were literally fighting something in the deepest parts of your mind.” Asterion added.

I smiled and sighed. “You guys have no idea what it was like in there, i’ll tell you guys sometime in the future, but right now, can i get some rest?” I said. “Absolutely, you looked like you killed a god, you deserve some rest.” Witxha said. Asterion proceeded to wrap me in the blanket again and carried me away from the Mages place. Euclapidices grabbed my hands again and led us through the valetudinaria. We passed the room I was in before our visit to the mages. “Hey isn't that my room?” I asked Euclapidices. “It was, we’re bringing you to a more permanent place to stay until you heal fully.” The dreamy demigod said. “I hope you like it, I went looking for it while we waited for the mages to finish.” Witxha said. “I’m sure I will.” I replied. “Good, cause it’d be a shame if you didnt after spending several days being worked on.” Asterion added. “Days?” I questioned. “Yes, four.” Euclapidices said. “FOUR!” I exclaimed. “Four.” The three of them said at the same time. “Hey, we all said that at the same time!” Witxha said excitedly. We kept walking, and eventually left the valetudinaria. Asterion placed me on a cart and the other two sat with me as Asterion sat in the front with the driver. We talked about food as we traveled to the place Witxha found for me. Soon enough we arrived at a gate, and we made our way through it. A portal opened and we went through. Traveling through a wormhole while being carried is a whole new form of trippy i wasn't expecting. We stepped out of the other end almost instantly. I looked around, the place looked quiet and peaceful. I saw insects similar to bees flying around and making upbeat buzzing sounds. I looked to the sky, there I saw a circular cloud formation that looked eons old. It contained the same energy I absorbed when I banished Agnarbog. “Welcome to Walvion, hopefully your new home little stalker.” Euclapidices said. “Walvion?” i asked “Yes, why?” Eclapidices said. “Oh nothing, i thought i misheard you” i lied. “Oh, well in that case, we do have one more thing for you before we show you your place.” Euclapidices said. “OH?” I sounded. “Yes, how do you feel about the name ‘Epizón’?” Witxha asked. “I like it, what does it mean?” I said. “In my language, it means survivor, but to you, it could mean whatever you want it to.” Euclapidices said. “That’s so sweet guys.” I smiled at them as I said this. “Well, let’s get you to your place, my arms are getting tired just standing here.” Asterion said. We promptly made our way through the valley and arrived at my new place.

[fumikomiyasaki]

ⓦ for our muses sharing a watermelon at a picnic table

Adam & Carol

Summer Starters

Even if she disliked the summer heat, at least there was always ways to counter it... and also she at least needed to get a little of this sun energy... and so she invited Adam to a nice picnic, finding a good picnic table slightly covered by the tree... She placed many different cold fruits and drinks on the table preparing it a little as he stopped by.

"Just at the right time, I was just done with it all... it might not be special but I hope you like it."

"I never can say no to food, even if you are probably tastier."

She grew red at this comment. Hiding her face behind her hands.

"D-don't get me into my weird thoughts again... sit down and enjoy. I brought hopefully enough for us both."

Instead of sitting on the other side of the table, he sat next to her, both of them enjoying the shade of the tree while grabbing some of the fruits... eventually he offered her one half watermelon.

"We could eat it together. If you want to..."

With a firm nod she smiled and took the other side of it... both of them munching on it untill meeting in the middle cheek against cheek... he leaned close to kiss her, feeling a bit how he tried to lick some of the water from her lips away...

"Now you are as red as the watermelon." A bright smile from his she sighed a little.

"You really have it out for me today huh?..."

She smirked a little looking back at him... taking a small bite from one banana on the table before putting her hands on his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

"I could turn you as red as a strawberry too..."

Without hesitation she leaned fully against him and let her lips linger back on his... having his arm around her fully giving into the sweet taste of the previous fruit she ate, growing red as she giggled a little after the kiss was done.

"Guess I was sucessfull."

"I am glad you don't mind the fruit puns that much."

"Whats the worst they can do, make me sigh a little sure... people should loosen up more... I always told my parents if I want a boyfriend, a little humor would be great."

"Speaking of Family."

He ate another strawberry and then looked down at her a little hesitant.

"What is it?"

"Applecakes, would you accompany to my kingdom during summer vacation? I would be happy to introduce you to them."

She fumbled with her fingers nervous.

"I would but... isn't it a bit odd... royal families I heard often expect you to bring potential suitors not just a girlfriend."

"So? I want you to get to know them a little. They should know the one I love."

She let out a deep breath but then cuddle against him a little.

"Alright... then I would be happy to join you, Adam... just tell me if I need to pack anything appropriate in clothing or something."

He chuckled a little putting his hand on her head.

"Then lets enjoy the rest of the sweet taste you brough me, alright?"

[simpscripts]

Say My Name ( Bernard the elf x Reader)

Part 1 of Naughty or nice series, Smut next chapter, 18 +, Nsfw, Brat reader, afab reader, she/her reader pronouns

Summary: You decide to skip out on work and mess with your favorite head elf.

The snowy village was peaceful as you sat outside the small cocoa cafe waiting for your drink. You loved this blissful moment in the last moments of November before the holiday season swept everyone into a frenzy. From your spot you can see the front of the workshop, plenty of elves coming and going with a few loitering outside in groups planning their game of tinsel football. A few shops also had some elves bringing out their big Christmas decorations out early to start prepping. It was calm and happy, no stress yet with all the hope and excitement of the month to come. This moment was special and warmed your heart. A moment you doubted the others even noticing it happening every year like clockwork.

The calm was a nice ritual but is only one reason why you snuck out of your office. You knew here soon it would be too busy for you or any other elf to be anything less than perfect at your jobs. So one last opportunity to hopefully mess around with the very busy head elf you loved to tease was the top priority right now.

You take in the calm while you can though, knowing sooner rather than later he will come find you. The waitress comes by delivering your cocoa and you take a moment to admire the whipped cream and sprinkled mug before taking a sip. The cocoa warmed your veins, sugar giving you the energy you’ll need here shortly. Then you heard his voice clear as a bell from across the square.

“Not now, Curtis!”

Looking up you spot him charging down the steps of the workshop, head flicking frantically side to side as Curtis ran alongside him, desperately trying to keep up. Curtis spots you first and freezes to watch this play out, quickly giving up whatever purpose he needed Bernard for. You watch with your head resting on your palm until you see the head elf himself freeze as he spun around and catches your gaze from across the way. You reach your other hand up to give a simple wave and a cheeky grin, which is all he needed to push himself out of his trance as he continues his path over to you.

“You’re supposed to be working, not drinking coffee, does Santa pay you to drink coffee?” He says sarcastically after he stopped his march and crossed his arms.

“Oh, hey Bartholomew.” You toss to the side without taking your eyes away from the beautiful whipped cream towered mug in front of you.

“Bernard.” He spit out with a curt click of his teeth. “You have several reports I have yet to see on my desk, and you didn’t request a break. So you need to stop drinking your coffee and Get. To. Work.”

You smirked to yourself, taking a short sip of your mug letting the tall tower of whip cream coat your upper lip and skin. You loved riling him up, and it was so easy to do with him. His eyes scrunched up, his voice cracked with the volume he reached sometimes, and his cheeks became flushed the angrier he got. You had a tiny tree you decorated in his honor on your work desk with each little bobble a different shade of red for each stage of his anger.

“Don’t get your stockings in a twist there Bernie.” You smiled before turning to face him. Your chest always bubbled in excitement when you see him in his usual grumpy stance with hands on his hips. Maybe it was the look in his eyes, or you wanted a new red ornament to adorn your tree to commemorate another special memory between the two of you, but you knew you were going to try to push him to his limits today.

“And you do know it’s hot chocolate not coffee right? You should really get those old eyes of yours checked out.” You finished with licking up the whip cream before letting your tongue drag slowly back inside your mouth.

Your cheeks burned with happiness watching his eyes narrow in on your action, his face flaring a shade darker, and chest rising with deep breaths that flared his nostrils. Your whole body already wanted to celebrate but you had to keep it cool to push him to his breaking point. So much restless energy flowed through you already that you have to push it all down to wiggling your toes excitedly inside your plush boots.

“My name is Bernard, we have known each other for centuries, and we are the exact same age.” He grinds out once more, voice raising in pitch. “You will give me the production and quality reports I need by the end of today or else Y/N.”

“Or else what, Baxter?” You beamed up at him, realizing that he has inched closer to you and now towers over your sitting form.

“For the love of snowballs its Bernard! You need to get back to work, respect your superior elf by calling me my correct name, or I will bring you straight to Santa and let him deal with you.” He starts leaning down to get in your space.

You watched as the light snowfall collected on his hat, tips of his ears, and nose. Your own nose tickled at the soft minty breath that fanned across your face as he spoke, it warmed your heart a bit more knowing he indulged in some candy canes in secret today. You have caught him in the past hiding around corners to have his candy breaks, scrambling to hide the evidence whenever you jumped out.

Your breath always hitched a bit whenever he heated up like this and you craved it. This was still just a small altercation and you couldn’t wait to push and push until he popped like a jack in the box.

“Make me” You quickly stuck a finger into the mug and scooped a bit of the whipped cream before smashing it into his nose and dragging the cream covered digit down his lips, chin, and neck. “Barney.”

“For Frosty’s sake!” He snaps before roughly grabbing your waist and with a surprising amount of strength that makes you yelp, he pulls you over his shoulder.

“Jeez calm down Blaine, and theres really no need to drag Frosty into this, the poor snowball has been through enough.” You chirp as he bounces you along through town towards the workshop. Despite all the fun you’re having, you still take the opportunity to hide in his curly hair to avoid the stares of all the other elves. The younger ones were drawing more attention to you with their snickers and ooo’s. Most are acclimated to this sort of reaction when the two of you are involved together but with the war path he carves through the snow paved town they knew you were being nothing short of naughty.

“Isn’t Santa supposed to be gone taking Ms. Claus on a trip before the holiday season?” You mutter out, anything to distract yourself from the knot in your stomach. Every part of your skin tingled like frost in the way his arm wrapped around your waist, fingers kneading into your stomach. His other hand clung to one of your legs just above the knee to keep you from fleeing or kicking.

“He got back this morning and has had plenty of time to unpack. Now he can deal with you.” He grounds out, voice evident of his growing frustration.

“Jolly old Nick loves me Bailey! That big old softy can’t even hammer a toy correctly in fear of breaking it.” You yelp out an oof as he jostles you around roughly at yet another nickname you’ve presented.

“Luckily as top elf I can and will break it as long as I have his expressed permission to do so.” His hand flexes around your leg once more, sliding a bit more up the leg as he tries to get a better grip with your wiggling.

Your thighs instinctively clenched and your gut was pulsing from the way he grabbed onto you. You were faced once again to acknowledge the slight crush you’ve been harboring for centuries. Your mind is running laps in this close moment, nose being overwhelmed with his slight cinnamon scent as he pulls you through the workshop. You no longer care about the stares as your mind drifts off to fantasize and think about the surprisingly strong elf carrying you.

You’re more than guilty for stirring up trouble for him just to have the chance to speak to him. Although you report to him its usually just a brief moment of contact before he zooms off to be the strict, serious, and hardworking head elf he takes prides in being. The more you teased him, skipped out on work, and lead him on a series of chases meant the more time you got to spend with him.

You prided yourself a bit on helping him earn his strict reputation, most of the elves being scared straight just by seeing his most strict moments when he reprimanded you. He wasn’t just a hard gumball all the time though. He only gets so worked up because he cares, more than any elf you ever met, about Christmas. His bossiness just came with a deep need of it all to go right but you could always see the care behind his actions despite his angry tones and fell more in love every time.

Even with your bratty elf behavior he always gave you a beautifully wrapped gift every year. Always hand made and always perfect. Whatever current hobby you indulge in, books you are reading, or food you craved he always got something completely perfect for you. You hoped it was a small sign he didn’t truly harbor any frosty feelings towards you.

Your mind started twisting from nice to naughty fairly quick the more his hands squeezed. Now most of your wiggling was to shake away the tingling need begging for attention which only caused him to squeeze more.

Suddenly he pulled you back to the ground right in front of ‘the big mans’ ornate wooden door. Your heart clenched as his hands pulled away from your hips, your dreaming hazed state hoping it wasn’t just you imagining his fingers lingering for a moment. You didn’t have to endure the madness of his skin leaving yours though, as he quickly wraps his hand around your wrist and leans down to stare you in your eyes.

“You have been acting up nearly every day the past month so you are going to go in there and tell him everything you have done.” He clipped through some heavy huffs most likely from caring you the whole way.

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m 200 and why do I have to be the one to tell him?”

“Because I’m head elf and my seniority means you have to listen to everything I tell you to do.” The more he bosses you around the more your mind clouds with dirty thoughts of listening to some different commands from him.

Without giving him a response you knock on the door and walk in with the call of puppets screaming to enter. You quickly bounce in as nice as sugar, twirling the bells adorning your skirt, and toss a wave towards Santa. Bernard marches in and stands tall right in front of Santa’s desk, ready to exert his rank. You happily slide up next to him and give him a small jab of your elbow.

“Uh oh.” The puppets immediately call seeing you and Bernard enter, causing Santa to laugh brightly.

“Oh Ho Ho, its never a good sign that both of you are here.” Santa chuckled, sparing a glance at Bernard and raising his eyebrows at the state the elf was in. “So what squabble brings the two of you here again?”

“I’ve been nothing but Jolly to him I swear Santa.” You smile brightly before leaning in. “And can I just say that you look positively glowing with that tan. We should put you at the top of the tree this year.”

“Rednoser.” Bernards quickly coughs out before looking to the side and up.

“Carol killer.” You snip back at him just as quickly under your breath.

“Blizzard box” He shoots back.

“Tinsel tool!” You raise your voice as you both continue slinging insults.

“Toy Twat!” He pivots his view from Santa to stare you down.

“Stocking sniffer!”

Both of you start raising your voices in unison, throwing insults and yelling every thought that can cram its way out of your throats. The volume in the room triples as the puppets start mimicking your fighting and start smacking each other with rolling pins.

“Hey stop it, everyone stop right now!” Santa’s voice cuts through, lacking any real bite but filled with exasperation. Every one takes a moment to collect themselves as Santa stares at both of you while rubbing a hand through his beard.

“Oh boy, those were some new ones. I really hope the younger elves don’t hear those.” Santa hums to himself quietly for a bit in contemplation before sighing and leaning back in his chair.

You shoot a quick glance at Bernard a shoot him a smirk as Santa makes a series of contemplating noises as he rubs his temples.

“Bernard do I really have to deal with this, I just got back and haven’t even taken my boots off, and I need to check on Mrs. Clause.” Santa huffs out in a plea.

“Of course not Santa, I just need your permission to deal with her.” Bernard easily slips back into his head boy pose.

“Alright but it’s officially Christmas season and I really need you both to work together so please go easy on her. Oh and go somewhere private, I don’t need the rest of the elves distracted by your boxing match or to hear your colorful language.” He ends with a chuckle.

“Of course, thank you very much Santa.” Bernard quickly nods and grabs your hand before pulling you out with him.

“And Y/N don’t try to shove a snowball down his pants again!” Santa calls out quickly.

“No promises!” You shout back before stumbling to keep up with Bernards pace.

The march to presumably his office is quiet besides the thud of shoes on the floor as he pulls you down hallways. His silent anger was frightening you just a bit so you decided to poke the bear a bit more for a reaction that would end this silence.

“Brad you really need to slow down!”

His grip on your hand tightens but for now he keeps quiet.

“You heard Kringle, you should be nice to me. I think your heart may be two sizes too small Ben.”

Again no response and the silence was starting to gnaw at you. You were desperate to be acknowledged by him, anything was better than silence.

“Bill? Did you hear me?” Nothing, the fear and guilt start climbing your throat.

“Bob?” Your hands are getting sweaty.

“Benedict!” You finally scream while taking note of how fast your approaching his office door.

“Son of a nutcracker!” He finally screams out, yanking open his door and pulling you in quickly.

“You know my name Y/N! You snarky sarcastic sadistic snowflake! We have know each other over 1,000 years and you still don’t call me, your superior, by my proper name!”

You relished in a brief moment of happiness when he spoke again but it quickly corrupted to a warmth spreading through you again as he paced in front of you. Every time he spared a glance in between each turn of pace his eyes bore into your own, melting away your resolve and making your legs shift under his gaze.

As he slowed his pacing down he leaned back against the wall, breathing deeply as he glared at you. Every muscle in his body looked tense as he awaited whatever snarky comment you were constructing in your mind. Usually your quick wit would take over but your eyes stayed glued to his teeth gnawing on his lip. You sat back against his desk unable to speak, pushing yourself up to sit on the flat surface.

After a few moments he pushed off the wall and approached you, step by step. Finally his legs stopped a breath away from your knees, so close the fabric of his pants brushed past your skin as he shifted his weight back and forth. He breaths out a huff, lowering his eyes to be at level with your own, and boxes you in with his hands resting at either side of your thighs.

Your lungs ceased working, time froze as you waited for him to talk. You’re left with endless amount of time focusing on how cold the room suddenly felt, goosebumps pricking your skin and air bubbles clogging the back of your throat. Your pelvic floor was clenching and it caused a pressure too sharp and needy for you to handle, and you’re quickly trying to unclench and relax.

“What do I have to do to get you to respect me?” His voice came out low, frustrated, and coarse.

Before you knew you even opened your mouth, the words tumbled from your lips. “Make me.”