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actuallyjustabiscuit · 6 months ago

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Ok thoughts 👏thoughts👏Everyone gather around I have thoughts about this!

Episode 2 was clearly the Pomni episode. We got to see her character get a little more fleshed out and we also got a glimpse of what motivates her which is great.

With this tweet we have solid confirmation on who the upcoming episodes will center on (thanks for not making us guess, Goose) and this lineup is really interesting.

First fascinating thing is that Kinger and Zooble share a spotlight in ep 3. Why is that? Everyone else gets their own dedicated episodes so why are they unique in that regard? What connects them?

Well, I have one idea!

So we know since the pilot that Kinger has been the one to have lived in the Circus the longest out of all of them. We’re still not sure if he was in fact the 1st human to be trapped (maybe we’ll find out in the next episode) but he definitely has the most seniority, both in age and in length of entrapment.

We also know that Zooble was the most recent character to get stuck before Pomni (and considering their attitude, it may have even been quite a while beforehand) AND is the youngest character next to Jax (they even share the same age, which could be a coincidence but it feels too deliberate of a choice).

Which means ep 2 will simultaneously focus on the oldest and the youngest of the characters.

I’m actually curious as to what their dynamic will be because they haven’t really interacted much in the pilot (and like not at all in episode 2), if they end up interacting in ep 3 at all. But mostly I’m excited to see them more fleshed out with hopefully Pomni getting the chance to bond with them (either together or separately).

My guess is that the purpose for them to share focus on an episode is to get perspective from someone who’s been there the longest and has seen more people come and go than anyone else vs. someone who was just recently in Pomni’s shoes and had probably a much different first day experience (we know Zooble cared enough about Kaufmo to personally organize his funeral so they may have some…feelings about who’s essentially his replacement).

Ep3 is also supposedly Gooseworx’s most anticipated episode so I’m extra excited.

Next we have Gangle for episode 4. I honestly don’t have a lot to say about her or the significance in her episode placement outside of her being the closest in age to Pomni (being only a year older). The only hint we get about what her episode will possibly consist of will be on how reliant she is on her ComedyMask to feel happy, which will be very interesting and we might even get some confirmation on whether her avatar was programmed with that feature upon entering the Circus or if it was an add on of sorts by Caine to help keep her sane. A pretty shitty feature if it can’t last for very long but it does make for a nice metaphor about how fragile her facade is (girl is literally masking).

Actually I don’t think her and Pomni have actually exchanged words yet in the show. Wouldn’t it be funny if they don’t up until her episode. Like Pomni is so caught up in between whatever mess episode 3 has in store for Kinger and Zooble that the two of them never actually talk and it just keeps getting more awkward. Gangle wants to talk to her but is so self-conscious about her Tragedy self that she’ll only feel safe to have a conversation if she has her mask, but it just keeps breaking before she even gets the chance.

Again this is all just speculation, if they actually end up talking in episode 3 I’ll…make ship art of them.

Yeah

Anyway, episode 5. The one I’m personally waiting for because y’all should know what I’m about by now.

*Warning: Unhinged, borderline psychotic tangent incoming*

I swear to god if Pomni and Ragatha don’t have a fucking conversation before ep 5 I will launch myself into the sun. I’ll take anything, I just need them to get real for a second. I NEED to know the extent of this woman’s damage. It has to be explored, analyzed, and dissected and I will do so with gusto when the day comes. None of these characters will be safe from my scrutiny, but Ragatha oh ho ho, you have been living rent free in my head for too long, madame. You WILL pay your dues and I intend to collect in every episode until there is not corner of your unsound mind that I have not examined in great detail!

Ahem *Straightens tie* Ok back to business

So yeah, Ragatha.

It may be because we’ve only had 2 episodes but I can’t help but feel like we’re supposed to see Ragatha as a sort of deuteragonist since out of all of the supporting characters she’s so far been getting the most focus aside from Jax, and we’ll get to him in a minute (I promise that’s not just me being biased, or maybe it is, I don’t know, you tell me).

In just two episodes we’ve seen more of what makes her tick compared to anyone else. And of the main cast she’s been the ONLY one to make any kind of connection to the main character and have enough of a meaningful interaction with her to leave an impression.

But this is what really clinched her role as a deuteragonist for me, she’s so far been one of the few to have the narrative briefly shift to her perspective to give us significant character moments like these:

The show REALLY wants us to see just how NOT ok she is.

If she’s meant to be the heart of the group, her heart already can’t take much more damage. Her friendship (if you can call it that, it’s so painfully one sided right now) with Pomni clearly means a lot to her, so much so that her entire sense of self worth seems to be tied to it (and if you’ve been paying attention, she doesn’t have a lot of that as it is). It would be nice to see their connection gradually grow before her designated episode, where she might experience actual growth for herself.

And if episode 2 is any indication of how this show preserves friendships well…

Yeah, I don’t think she’s gonna make it.

In fact, I’m willing to bet actual money that she’s either gonna abstract in episode 5 or episode 6.

Which brings us to Jax’s episode! The other deuteragonist…tritagonist? He definitely shares some degree of significant narrative focus along with Pomni and Ragatha. He’s both an active antagonist force and one of the only characters to drive the plot forward every time he’s on screen (then there’s that weird thing where he keeps breaking the fourth wall).

He has so much significance in the story that Gooseworx gave him his own bullet point in her list of content warnings (this could also be a joke, but I mean it would be funny to see just how despicable they can make this character).

Gooseworx also described Jax and Pomni’s relationship in the show as “messy”. After episode 2, I don’t think she considers him as a candidate for any kind friendship like she did for the others, and who could blame her? In just two days the guy abandoned her to deal with an abstraction and chucked her out of a truck. He’s no one’s favorite person, and he relishes that. Bunnyboy definitely has some issues that Pomni would pick up on the more she’s forced to spend time with him. To the point where I can see her trying to eventually form some kind of bridge because, as her previously established character motivation implies, she’s not the kind of person to intentionally leave anyone high and dry. But unlike the rest of the crew, I don’t think Jax would be inclined to change for the better just because someone took pity on him. He seems like the kinda guy to dig his heels in and commit to his bad behavior out of spite.

And for his episode to come after Ragatha’s, why do I get the feeling the reason Gooseworx went so far as to preemptively apologize to bunnydoll shippers specifically is because he’s gonna cause something really really bad to happen to her (could be abstraction, could even be something much worse) that he would come to sorely regret.

And oh boy would that evoke some feelings in everyone!

I feel like if that is indeed the direction this show is going, the rest of the episodes will really be something.

I’m also certain Caine will get his own episode but right now he is very much an antagonist to these characters. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a villain, but he’s certainly not someone Pomni is keen on sympathizing with, at least not currently.

Thanks again @lilyclawthorne for helpfully providing me with the tweet so I can give some context for my ramblings of the week!

#phew finally done with this #I did NOT mean for this to get so long #I should be asleep but decided to do this instead cuz it’s been giving me serious brain rot #I feel like I should start making a specific tag for my unhinged essays #Biscuit Bakes?#Ah whatever it’ll come to me #character analysis #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc pomni #tadc kinger #tadc zooble #tadc gangle #tadc ragatha #tadc jax #tadc caine #tadc headcanon #I have taken WAY to many screenshots of the doll. I am not well #I feel like I could have added some more screenshots about the hints Gooseworx has given for the show but I’m too lazy to go looking

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eldritchqueerture · 8 months ago

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someone in my circle better get caught up with Malevolent and become a Patreon supporter right this second because im going to explode

#aaaaaa its never been more painful #theres too many people on the official discord 😭😭 and i NEED to scream at someone about this choice #genuinely about to start chewing concrete im so fucking normal about this show i swear #need to launch myself directly into the sun #niki.rambles

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currebunz · 6 months ago

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Homecoming (Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader)

A/N: I decided to start something like a series. I'll rework a more detailed version of Captured at a later date.

Word was that Kenji Sato was returning to Japan. The sun rose, the sky was clear and the day seemed just right. Of course, you already knew he was coming back as you were the first person he told about his big move. You were excited to see your long time friend again, but things were different. You both were different. Kenji had become more boastful, the hard work he had put in paid off and he was reveling in the attention. He was a man now, not the boy you had known.

You had also changed, launching your singing career and becoming somewhat of an idol. Although you called yourself a musician and a singer, your fanbase rivaled that of idols. You remained humble, finding the spotlight to be too much and keeping your public appearances to concerts and TV programs. The contrast between you two was nearly like night and day. However, you didn’t let that concern you. All that mattered was getting to reunite with Kenji again.

Kenji had arrived the day before, but he needed some time to sort out his living situation as he told you. Not to pry, you decided to make plans with him before he started to pile on work. You called him with a video call, smiling at his sleepy expression.

“Don’t tell me jetlag kicked the Kenji Sato’s ass” you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. You try taking a red eye half way across the world and then talk” Kenji yawned.

Even if he was a bit disheveled, he somehow made it look attractive.

“Uh huh, and who was it that said ‘the second I get off the plane we are going places?’” you asked.

“I know, I forgot about the press meeting. I’ll make it up to you somehow” Kenji sighed.

Naturally, the moment he returned to Japan the press was foaming at the mouth to get an interview with him. He had his hands tied as he couldn’t deny the publicity and the chance to look good.

“You can make it up to me with…. Okonomiyaki” you said.

“What? Okonomiyaki? You realize you are getting to chill with the Kenji Sato right? We could have anything in all of Japan! Sashimi, Fugu, Wagyu! And you want Okonomiyaki?” Kenji chuckled.

“If I wanted any of that, I’d get it myself. Besides, don’t you remember after every game we’d go out and get Okonomiyaki? You, your mom and dad, my mom’s and I would go to a local place” you began.

“Yeah, and dad would try to flip the whole thing,” Kenji sighed as he remembered.

“And all the toppings would fly off. I smelled like Bonito for three days” you laughed.

Kenji grinned, looking softer now. It made you happy seeing him like this. It reminded you of the past when he would be glued to your side.

“You think you had it bad? My uniform smelled like Okonomiyaki sauce for a week!” he laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh, recalling the tragedy of Kenji’s baseball uniform. Thankfully, your moms helped Emiko get the scent out in time for his game. As the laughter subsided, you had a silly smile on your face as you looked at Kenji.

“Well, I still want Okonomiyaki” you said.

“Fine, how about afterward?” he suggested.

“It’s gotta be before my concert” you reminded him.

“Shit, that’s right. You have a concert tonight” Kenji hissed.

You had to resist the frown from showing on your face. Of course he had forgotten, Kenji Sato was a busy man. So busy he couldn’t keep track of your schedule, even after you shared it with him.

“It’s alright, we can do it another day. Maybe when we both aren’t so busy” you sighed.

Kenji looked a bit panicked, his steel blue eyes going wide before he cleared his throat.

“N-No, no. I want to do it as soon as possible. I mean… I want to see you. In person” he said.

You hung your head low and sighed. Honestly, hearing him say that made it hard for you to meet his eyes. You slowly raised your head and gave him a wry smile.

“Alright, we can try,” you agreed.

“Maybe Kenji Sato could get VIP backstage access to the concert and surprise you?” he smirked.

“Uh-huh, I’ll let the staff know to let you in. Just don’t make yourself at home in my dressing room. I have important things in there” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Things more important than me?” he teased.

“Oh please, you know there isn’t anything more important to me than you. Well, maybe my bass guitar” you snickered.

Kenji started laughing too, relaxed that you had forgiven him and given him another chance.

“I’ll see you tonight, you’re going to be great,” he said.

“Hit a home run at the press meeting” you said back.

The call ended there, as both of you were called away for the evening. You had been in your dressing room preparing for the concert. On a large monitor was the press meeting where Kenji was… well, himself. It made your stomach tighten over how cocky he was being. You knew it would spell trouble for him with his team. But hopefully they would see the Kenji you knew.

Or rather used to know.

“[y/n] The venue has let the audience in, we're ready to go on,” your secretary announced.

“Right, thank you Kohaku” you nodded.

The show must go on, regardless of how you felt. As you left your dressing room, you turned off the monitor, Kenji’s smirk faded to black before you turned to leave. Your mind shifted to the performance, clearing your head of any other thoughts than your songs and choreography. As you stepped onto the stage, the venue exploded in cheers.

“What a huuuuuge crowd! I think we could bring the whole venue down!” you shouted.

Your fans screamed a loud response back, not that you could really understand it.

“Let’s get this show on the road! One, two, three!” you shouted.

As the music began, the crowd sang along and cheered. It was no different from your previous concerts, everything came to you easily. You could feel yourself begin to sweat as the set list made it to the halfway point. Just as it was about to reach the point where you did your signature set, a loud alarm blasted through the venue.

“Warning, Kaiju attack” came through the speakers and on every screen.

You watched as the fans began to file out, the staff guiding them to the nearest exits. You jumped off the stage, assisting the people in barricades to take the back stage exit with your staff.

“[y/n]! We have to get going!” Kohaku called to you.

“Not until everyone is safe!” you shouted back.

You looked around for any stragglers. There was a group of teens carrying one on their shoulders. You ran over to assess the situation.

“She fell and her leg got trampled, she can’t walk” one of the teens explained.

A loud roar came from above and the ground began to shake.

“Take her through the back, follow Kohaku out” you took them as you pointed to your secretary.

The teens nodded, hurrying over to Kohaku who took on the weight of the injured teen. As you watched them leave, you hear another loud roar. Metal crunched and screeched as a huge shadow loomed over. You weren’t sure what you were seeing but it was a Kaiju for sure. And it was falling backward onto the venue.

Your legs felt stiff as you hurried to run away, just in any direction to avoid being crushed. When the Kaiju finally fell backward onto the venue, you were launched into the air. Everything went dark as you felt heavy weight on your body and pain radiating through your limbs. It hurts to breathe let alone move.

“[y/n]! [y/n]!” Kohaku called for you.

You couldn’t open your mouth, the dust and dirt surrounded you. Nearby, you saw a light stick and turned it on. You hoped the light would signal to Kohaku where you were. After a few minutes, you could hear footsteps approaching.

“Right here! I need a rescue here!” Kohaku shouted.

The debris keeping you down was removed and you were rushed to a hospital.

----

The next day, you had your arm in a sling. It wasn’t bad, but you had bruises and pulled muscles. But you weren’t cleared to do any work. You had been lucky enough that Kohaku let you still attend the TV program you had agreed to be a special guest for.

“It’s not like they are going to make me do push ups,” you sighed.

“You're injured, that is going to be a beacon for gossip,” Kohaku said.

“People are going to talk regardless, at least let me have some fun while it happens” you begged.

That was how you ended up on a chair in a TV studio waiting for the cameras to start rolling. What you didn’t expect was for Kenji to be the other special guest.

“[y/n]? You’re the other guest? This is… this is great-” he stopped when he saw your arm in a sling.

“Oh yeah, we got good chemistry so we can bounce off each other” you grinned.

But Kenji just stared at your wounded arm.

“It looks worse than it feels, I’ll live” you began.

“What happened?” he asked.

“D-Don’t worry about it” you said nervously.

Before he could press further, the host interrupted you both to start the show. You forced the best smile you could, feeling Kenji’s eyes on you. The talk show started on a humorous note as the host made puns regarding both Kenji’s and your profession. It was only a matter of time before the conversation shifted to your injury.

“That’s quite the shiner you’ve got there, wasn’t it from the Kaiju attack last night?” the host asked.

“Uh… yeah. Neronga kinda fell on the venue. These things happen” you replied.

“Talk about going out with a bang, how are you holding up?” the host asked.

“I’m fine, I just need some rest” you said.

“You should’ve rested today” Kenji scolded you.

You turned to him, keeping your lips in a thin line.

“Who knew Kenji Sato was a mother hen? Looks like he does care about something other than baseball!” the host joked at your expense.

The audience laughed but you ignored his comment.

“Anyways, the KDF took care of that monster before it could turn you into a pancake. Any thoughts about it?” the host asked.

“I mean, I’m grateful the KDF managed to take care of the situation. But Ultraman kept the fighting away from my venue. I think if the KDF had let him fight it at least the destruction would have been avoided” you answered.

Kenji stared at you, swallowing as a frown set on his features.

“But didn’t Ultraman run away? I think he bit off more than he could chew back there” the host laughed.

Cue another laugh from the audience.

“We all have our bad days, I want to believe he’ll save us next time” you argued.

You turned to Kenji, noticing he looked rather guilty.

“Don’t you think so too?” you asked.

“He snapped out of the dark thoughts swarming in his head, blinking before nodding.

“Uh yeah, sure he will,” he said with false confidence.

After the show had concluded, you started to meet up with Kohaku. You heard someone jogging behind you and already knew it was Kenji.

“Hey, can we talk for a minute?” he asked.

“What’s this about? You standing me up or not answering your phone?” you asked.

Kenji cursed to himself, he had told Mina to direct all calls to voicemail.

“Both, let’s go. Right now. I know you have nothing planned with that keeping you busy” he said as he pointed to your arm sling.

You pouted at him, furrowing your brows.

“Okonomiyaki” you huffed.

“Yeah, yeah. I know” he laughed.

Kohaku was annoyed to hear that you had skipped out with Kenji. You hadn’t said that it was on his motorcycle either. There had to be some kind of rule against riding with only one good arm. But you threw caution to the wind as you used one arm to keep you grounded to Kenji. Although, he had driven more carefully knowing you were at risk of falling off. When you both reached the old Okonomiyaki restaurant, the memories began to come back.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit,” you said in awe.

“Don’t fix what isn’t broken or something” Kenji chuckled.

You both sat down and began to create a monster of an order. It felt like you were both kids again, mixing things and exploring new combinations. When it came time to make the pancake, you looked at Kenji with a sly grin.

“All right hot shot, you gotta cook it,” you said.

“You can at least put the topping on with your good arm,” Kenji rolled his eyes.

“Just make sure you don’t flip it on my head” you snickered.

“Oh ha, ha. Like I can’t flip a pancake” Kenji sarcastically laughed.

“Says the guy who ended up taking an Okonomiyaki shower” you continued to tease him.

“Hm, maybe you should try one,” he said as he filled a spoon with Okonomiyaki sauce.

Kenji leaned over the table to push it closer to your face.

“Ken! Don’t you dare!” you squealed.

You both began to calm down as your hunger became more apparent. Kenji managed to keep all the toppings on and flip the pancake. Now it was time to eat. You grabbed a spoon, unable to eat properly with your non-dominant hand. Kenji watched you clumsily try to eat with the spoon.

“Okay, hold up” he said and stood up.

He grabbed his chair, moving from sitting across the table from you to sitting adjacent to you. He was close enough to bump elbows with you. He raised his chopstick to your mouth.

“Say ‘Ah’” his voice came out playful as he held up a bite sized piece.

“You can’t be serious” you said as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Hey, I’m doing you a favor,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth. The both of you moved forward and the bite sized piece of Okonomiyaki made it into your mouth.

“Oh! So good!” you exclaimed as your cheeks tingle.

“Uh huh? See? And you didn’t want my help” Kenji smirked as he fed himself.

As much as you hated yourself for thinking about it, this was an indirect kiss. You pushed the thought to the back of your mind and hummed loudly.

“Well, if you insist. Then you can feed me” you laughed.

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato x you #kenji sato #ultraman rising #reader insert #x reader #reader-insert

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nestasminiaturepegasus · 7 months ago

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Because y'all love selective reading...

Nesta doesn't care about anyone but herself.

refusing to leave Cassian as he dies in ACOWAR

"What I care about is making sure no children-fae or human-are harmed."

Staying by Cassian's side as he dies in ACOSF

Staying behind so that her friends could survive the rite.

"She would save him, save them, even if it took everything."

Nesta needs to acknowledge what Feyre did for her/how she treated her!

"But beneath the wall, I witnessed children-entire families-starve to death. Were it not for my sister...I would be among them."

"It consumed me so much that...that I let Feyre go into that forest and told myself I didn't care."

"Wished someone would smother the voice that whispered every horrible thing she'd ever done, every awful thought she'd had, every person she'd failed."

"You loved me when no one else would. You never stopped. Even when I didn't deserve it, you loved me, and fought for me."

"I swallowed my shout of pain as Nesta's arms went around my neck, and she embraced me so hard it snatched my breath away." "Her body shook, shook as she sobbed, and said over and over and over, thank you."

Nesta didn't experience enough trauma to act the way she did!

girl, bye be so fr

comparing trauma is gross, and if you think you have any right to do so, you won't fit in on my page :)

Nesta thinks she is superior to everyone around her.

"I am worthless and I am nothing. I hate everything I am, and I am so, so tired. I am tired of wanting to be anywhere but in my own head."

"You're right to hide your children from me, I am the monster you fear."

"She had been suffering, and he'd had no idea how much it consumed every facet of her life. He'd seen her self-loathing and anger-but hadn't realized how much she'd been away of it. How much it had eaten her up."

Nesta can never allow anyone to love her.

"Nesta leaned forward until their brows touched. And despite all that brimmed in her heart, all that flowed through her body, sure and true, she merely whispered, thank you."

"I love you, too, Feyre whispered to her sister, and smiled. Nesta didn't stop her sob as she launched herself onto Feyre and embraced her."

"I didn't know how long my sisters and I lay there together, just like we had once shared that carved bed in that dilapidated cottage. Then-back then, we had kicked and twisted and fought for any bit of space, any breathing room. But that morning, as the sun rose over the world, we held tight. And we did not let go."

#nesta archeron #I will teach you how to read if you ask politely #acotar #archeron sisters #feyre archeron #acotar series #pro nesta #acosf #come on people

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starlightsuffered · 8 days ago

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My Girl

A/N - wrote this bc I’m cold and I miss the sun also I had a dream about it

Info - fingering, friends to lovers, pda, a little sex, getting caught in heavy make out, tasting pussy juice, finger sucking

I popped a cherry into my mouth and noted how Timothée looked at my lips. The air was thick, though humidity was low. My ponytail brushed my shoulder as I turned to grab another piece of fruit.

I felt a tentative hand on my bare ankle. I pretended I didn’t notice. His thumb moved slowly over my skin.

Since winter, things had been very different. Timothée and I had been friends forever, but in December he’d become single again. On new years, he’d decided that we would kiss to usher it in. At that moment, everything had changed.

His moustache was gone, and his hair was now fluffy and tousled like it used to be. He’d been home spending time with his niece for a while. He hadn’t taken a new project for a while and I wished desperately that even a little of it was for me.

We’d reconnected in a heavy way. We spent days and nights together. He seemed to always be inviting me over. We shared bottles of wine and late night confessions. The alcohol always had us falling over each other with giggles. Then we’d take a moment and stare into the others eyes. Our friendship wore thin as one of us would inevitably push a lock of their out of the others face.

That was how we had lived for months. We’d walked that edge of the precipice so many times. I wondered if we were both waiting on the other to make the final move. I wondered if he’d find me less desirable if I broke first. I wondered what was taking so damn long.

“Would you rather,” he mused, picking up the game again.

We were having a picnic in the park. I wore a new sundress that he had barely removed his eyes from the entire afternoon. He was in jeans and over sized t-shirt. The sun had finally begun to warm New York City and he’d eagerly called me, begging for a picnic lunch in the fresh air.

“Kiss someone, or hug someone?”

“It depends,” I said, tilting my head to the side.

“Oh?” He asked as his fingers drummed on my leg. I wanted to pounce on him.

“Hugs are almost always good, kisses are only good with some people,” I shrugged. I threw a blackberry in my mouth now.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“What makes someone the right person?” Timothée asked in a dangerous voice. I gulped and looked up to meet his gaze.

“Someone who is kind, sexy, matches your energy, knows you well, cares for you the correct way…” I trailed off. I felt a burning between my legs even though this was just a conversation about kissing. He always launched me into neediness so easily.

“And am I-“ he sucked in a deep breath. If he was breathing harder, I wasn’t breathing at all. He was preparing, I could tell. He was closer to that precipice than he’d ever been. He was going to jump.

“Am I the right sort of person?” He whispered.

I leaned back on my elbows. Ever so slightly, I spread my legs. His grip became tighter on my ankle. His eyes darkened and he watched me as if I were stripping instead of leaning back casually.

“Yes,” was all I breathed.

He lurched forward, a desperate hunger in his eyes. My back hit our fuzzy blanket. His mouth was glued to mine. His large hands held my face. I was hot all over as our tongues danced together. I couldn’t have cared less who would see us.

His hand moved to my thigh and went up, lifting up my dress. I gasped into his mouth.

“I love you, fuck I love you, I’ve wanted this so long,” he heaved, he was panting as he grabbed at every bit of my skin. My leg wrapped around him. I pressed myself into the feeling of him, memorising it.

“I want you, I need you,” I repeated myself over and over. He mouthed over my neck. His long fingers crawled to my pink panties.

“Shit!” He sucked in a breath when he felt my wetness.

“You’re perfect, I can’t breathe, I don’t want to,” he told me. I was keening and arching as his deft fingers plunged into me. He curled them in my wet heat.

“You’re so pretty in this dress. I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispered, kissing the hot skin of my clavicle.

I loved how he worshipped and praised me, as if he hadn’t been around a million celebrities. He could see me as less or not be interested at all. Yet, he touched me like one would touch a deity. I was in heaven.

“Mmmmm,” Timothée moaned as he lifted his digits to his mouth. His fingers were so slick. I watched him mesmerized by the beauty.

“Baby, you’ve got to taste yourself. Come on pretty girl, it’s ambrosia,” he coaxed. He looked love sick and hazy. He smiled dreamily as his finger were sucked by my needy mouth.

“Atta girl,” he whispered. He was kissing me again now. My bottom half was almost completely bare. The grass was on my ass and my dress was hitched up around my waist. Timothée’s hands dipped into the cups of my bra. He massaged as he kissed me and kissed me and kissed me.

“What are you two doing,” asked a harsh voice. A park ranger took in our heady gazes and the tent in Timmy’s pants, and the way I was scantily clad.

“Get up!” He snapped gruffly.

Timothée had Trouble moving from his hard on. He was pulling me along desperately. He’d left behind the blanket, the lunch, all in an effort to get to his car.

He whips open the door and pulls me on top of him in almost one movement. Out kisses are sloppy and hot. His hands are up my dress again. I could hardly catch a breath.

“Fuck me, there will be pictures everywhere,” he said, but he didn’t sound like he actually cared that much.

“Fuck that,” I giggled as I nipped at his lip.

“Fuck me,” he moaned, a request.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. I pushed my panties to the side and he pulled out his cock. I sunk down and settled into the place I was meant to be.

“My girl,” he groaned as I began to bounce and he began to thrust.

“My girl forever.”

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker

#reader insert #x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x you #timothée chalamet smut #timothee smut #my girl

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metallicames · 12 days ago

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I needed to vent my dirty thoughts about late 80's James(AJFA) so I wrote this.

Thanks as always for your help @nausicaamusiclover20 ❣️

Nothing Else Matters

Description: you and James are best friends and practically inseparable but something changes when one day he invites you into the band's studio to listen to some new tracks.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, sex, oral sex, dirty talking.

It’s a warm mid-May afternoon when I step off the plane at LAX. The New York shoot had been nonstop—flashbulbs, stylists, chaos—but the familiar California air feels like a balm on my skin. As I wheel my bag through the arrivals terminal, I spot him immediately. James is leaning against his black Mustang, arms crossed, his aviators glinting in the sun. Lars is there too, animated as always, gesturing wildly while James listens with an amused smirk. The sight of them makes something in my chest loosen, something that’s been knotted tight for weeks.

I drop my bag and rush toward them, my smile widening. Lars is first, scooping me into a quick, playful hug, his energy infectious as always. Then I turn to James. His arms open, and the second he pulls me in, I feel it—the weight of the past month without him falls away.

“You’ve been missed, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice soft but steady, his breath warm against my hair.

“So have you,” I reply, my voice quieter than I mean it to be. It’s the truth. James isn’t just my best friend he's also my family since I don't have one.

The Mustang roars to life as James merges onto the freeway, the sound of the engine almost drowning out Lars’ running commentary from the backseat. Almost. The stereo is turned all the way up, blasting rock and metal that James drums along to on the steering wheel. When Harvester of Sorrow comes on, it’s over for all of us. Lars grabs an invisible pair of drumsticks, attacking the back of my seat in time with the beat. I throw myself into the vocals, headbanging until my hair flies into my face, laughing through the lyrics.

James glances at me, his grin widening as he belts out the chorus, his voice gravelly and loud. His energy is magnetic, the kind of presence that pulls you in until you forget everything else. I’m laughing so hard my stomach aches, and for the first time in weeks, the world feels… light. Free.

This is what life is supposed to be, I think. Loud, messy, and completely perfect.

As the city melts away behind us, the horizon stretches out in golden waves, sunlight streaking across the dashboard. I lean my arm out the open window, fingers slicing through the warm breeze, and let myself relax into the rhythm of the road. James glances over, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

“So,” he starts, his voice casual but curious, “how was New York?”

I launch into stories about the shoot—grueling hours, impossible expectations, the occasional flashes of brilliance that made it worth it. He listens the way he always does, his attention steady, his face lit with interest. When I finally stop to take a breath, he nods, his expression softening.

“I’m proud of you,” he says simply.

The words hit harder than I expect, leaving a warm ache in my chest. Before I can respond, we pull up to Lars’ place. I hug Lars goodbye, watching him disappear, and then James turns to me.

“Feel like coming to the studio?” he asks, one hand draped casually over the wheel. “The others aren’t around, but I’ve got some stuff I’d love for you to hear.”

I hesitate for a moment, the exhaustion from the flight catching up with me. But the way he looks at me—hopeful, expectant—makes it impossible to say no.

“Let’s do it,” I say, and the way his grin widens makes me glad I did.

The studio smells like it always does: wood polish, leather, and the faint tang of old metal strings. It’s familiar, grounding, like stepping into a place that’s half museum, half home. Instruments are scattered everywhere—guitars leaning against amps, Lars’ drumsticks on the floor, a pair of headphones abandoned on the mixer table. I trail my fingers along the edge of the console as James hands me a cold beer.

“Hungry?” he asks, holding up a takeout bag.

“Starving,” I admit, cracking open the bottle and taking a sip. He grins and sets out the food, motioning for me to sit.

“Listen to this and relax,” he says, pressing play on the mixer. “It’s new. Just an idea we’ve been messing with.”

The track that fills the room is raw and heavy, a mix of blistering riffs and experimental rhythm changes. I kick off my shoes, curling up on the couch, and let myself get lost in the sound. My fingers drum against my knees, my feet tapping out the beat. For a moment, I close my eyes, letting the music wrap around me like a warm blanket. When I open them again, James is standing a few feet away, watching me with a curious intensity.

“I love seeing you like this,” he says, his voice low but clear. “You’re always honest with us. You’ve got great taste.”

I laugh, brushing off the compliment, but something about the way he says it sticks with me. We sit side by side on the couch, devouring our burgers and swapping stories until James suddenly gets up and grabs an acoustic guitar.

The melody he plays next is soft, haunting, and completely unexpected.

“What’s this?” I ask, my voice hushed.

He doesn’t look up, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings. “Just something I’ve been playing around with,” he says. “You’re the first to hear it.”

I don’t respond. I’m too busy watching him—his focus, the way his body moves with the music, the sunlight catching in his messy blond hair. James has always been good-looking, but right now, he’s something else. His tanned skin glows in the fading light, and there’s a calmness to him that takes my breath away.

It’s dangerous, the way my thoughts start to drift. I quickly look away, forcing myself to focus on the music.

When he finishes, I clap, my cheeks warm and my chest tight. “That was incredible,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “Seriously, Jamie. It gave me chills.” He sets the guitar aside, his gaze softening. “Come here,” he says, opening his arms.

I hesitate for a second before leaning into him, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me close. His chin rests on the top of my head, the warmth of his chest against my back reassures me like a blanket.

“Are you tired?” he murmurs, his hands moving to my shoulders. His thumbs begin to knead the tension there, slow and deliberate.

“A little,” I admit “But this is nice.”

Minutes pass like this, his hands drifting lower, skimming along my sides and back up again. His breath brushes against my ear, warm and steady, and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me. My heart races, a mix of confusion and something I can’t quite name.

James’s lips trail gently along the curve of my neck, his breath warm against my skin. His hands move with deliberate care, resting against me, their strength both grounding and exhilarating. My heartbeat races, the rhythm wild and unsteady as I try to catch my breath, The idea that James had these intentions had never crossed my mind and right now I feel overwhelmed.

“James… we shouldn’t…” The words slip from me in a breathy whisper, barely audible over the pounding in my chest.

“Why not?” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, a subtle edge of desire beneath his usual calm. “Just… relax. Enjoy the moment.”

His lips find the hollow of my collarbone, pressing there with soft insistence, and I shiver. Slowly, I turn to face him. His eyes meet mine, and there’s something different in them—a quiet intensity that takes my breath away. Before I can overthink it, I lean in, closing the distance.

The kiss starts slow, almost hesitant, but the moment his lips part against mine, it’s as if every inhibitory brake has fades. The taste of him is familiar and yet intoxicating, a heady mix of his cologne and the faint bitterness of beer. Our movements sync instinctively, like this was always meant to happen, as if some unspoken rhythm has finally been realized.

His hand then lower on my womb and lit my mini skirt and insticively I spread my legs letting his hand touching me. His fingertips caress the soft fabric of my panties and he lets out a low growl. I stop kissing him, resting my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes desperate of wanting more. I felt James’ other hand slips under the sweatshirt snd then touching my naked breast. He starts touching my nipple in a circular way that made me gasp. He let out another moan, closer to my ear this time louder, which makes my weak knowing that he craves more. I know that this isn’t right, he is my best friend, but his touch is like a drug and I want more. As he said, I let myself enjoy the moment. With a determined movement I lower my panties, kicking them with my feet. James takes his hand closer to his mouth and spit on it and he reaches my clit, starting rubbing it wiht his movements that made me lose my mind. “Fuck, he’s so damn good” I think as he continues to stimulate me. I let out a soft moan, I open my eyes and the scene hit me: the sun outside is setting leaving the sky with beautiful colors making the studio magical. The blurred light create a sensual atmoshpere while James' muscular arms envelop my excited body.

“Show me what you like…” James whispers, his voice low and laced with a quiet urgency. His lips brush against my ear before he catches the lobe gently between his teeth, sending a shiver down my spine. His hand rests against my breast, warm and steady, until I guide it to my groin, my fingers trembling slightly as I lead him in my entrance, where I need him most while the other hand is taking care of my clit. The delicate movements he enters make me gasp, my body arches into him, my back pressing against his firm chest as his rhythm finds something instinctual, something perfect.

I can feel his erection against my lower back. I also feel the tension in him too, is evident in the way he moves, the way his breath grows heavier with every reaction he draws from me. His fingers’ movements start being faster and I couldn’t help but moan and sigh.

“James…” I gasp, his name spilling from my lips unbidden, a desperate prayer in the heat of the moment.

“Let me take care of you” he murmurs, his voice low and velvet-smooth, sending another wave of heat coursing through me.

His hands are everywhere I want them to be, skilled and unrelenting, drawing sensations so intense that I can hardly keep up. The way his fingers enter and exit from my entrance make me feel dizzy. My head tilts back against his shoulder, and I close my eyes, losing myself in the moment, in him. Every nerve feels alive, every touch igniting something deeper.

I know I'm going to cum. I feel a rush building inside me, a warm wave starting deep within, growing stronger with every passing second. I hold onto James' ankle tightly, the connection between us feeling more intense with each movement. My breath becomes shallow, harder to control, and I can’t help but let out soft sounds as my body responds instinctively, moving in sync with him. Every touch, every gesture seems to amplify the moment, making my hips move a little in time with his fingers. He’s damns fucking me with his fingers and he fuck knows how to do it.

"Come for me, Y/n, let me feel how much you enjoy this..." His voice, thick with desire, is the spark that sends a wave of intense pleasure coursing through me. I cum in his hands followed by a strong orgasm. A rush of sensations floods over me, overwhelming and almost indescribable, as I give in to the moment.

"Fuck..." I gasp, my voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. I can feel the satisfaction in his smile against my skin as he continues to touch me, his movements slowing down. I instinctively close my legs, holding onto his wrist, and he pauses for a moment, gently slapping my clit.

He pulls his hands away, and I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. His gaze lingers on me as he brings his fingers to his lips, savoring the cum with a satisfied hum.

I'm breathless, overwhelmed by the sensations, feeling a deep sense of peace wash over me, still caught in the aftermath of what we just shared. I'm trying to make my breath regular but then James comes closer to my ear. “Now, I need to lick it” With his husky voice that makes my heart skip a beat.

I don't know how to react. The orgasm I had earlier was the best I ever had. It left me breathless, and the thought of him taking me to that peak again sends a shiver through my spine, both startling and thrilling me.

I shift, allowing him to move in front of me, not saying a word but watching his every movement, completely captivated by his presence, his scent, the way he moves with such confidence.

He gently pulls at my skirt, his voice low as he commands, "Take it off... I want to see your body." His gaze, filled with intent and admiration, sends a rush of excitement through me. I pull off my sweatshirt, and the skirt locking eyes with him as he kneels on the couch, fully dressed, and I can feel the intensity of his attention on me.

I bite my lip instinctively, heart racing as he watches me. While I lay back on the pillow behind me, he gently spreads my legs, and his gaze falls on me, lowering on my pussy, slow and deliberate, as if he’s memorizing every detail of me.

"I think I just fell in love," he says, his gaze never leaving my cunt. He moves closer, his hands gently gripping my buttocks, parting them just enough to bring his head between my legs. I grip the pillow behind me with one hand, the fingers of the other one running through his hair, as he starts to lick my clit, each lick sending waves of pleasure through me.

His eyes meet mine occasionally, filled with desire, and I couldn’t help but move my hips toward him, drawn to him, making him licking deeper, lost in the sensation. I felt completely overwhelmed, consumed by the moment, as he continues, never slowing down, his focus unwavering. "You taste amazing… You’re perfect" he murmurs, his voice thick with passion. And I couldn’t deny it—every part of me craves him, every second more intense than the last. I find myself wanting more, needing to feel him even closer, my heart racing as I whisper, "I need you, James... now." He pulls back slightly, giving me a teasing smile as he raises an eyebrow. With surprising speed, he removes his pants the subtle line of his tan and the hint of blonde hair just below his stomach catch my attention, causing me to let out a soft sigh.

When he removes his boxers I couldn’t help but stare, I was surprised, I had never seen such a big cock. He looks at me with a smirk. Then he comes closer to me, kissing me with such passion and pressing his dick’s tip toward my entrace. I'm wet and excited, but I'm tight, so fucking tight for his dick. I take off his t-shirt and rest my hand on his ass guiding him to my entrace. He opens his mouth letting out a little sight as he penetrates me, stopping halfway. “Fuck, you’re so tight” he says, his breath quick and uneven. I try to relax, feeling the warmth of the moment and knowing that soon it will transform into pure pleasure. I gently touch his chest, feeling the strength and warmth of his body. His gaze meets mine, eyes wide, and I could tell he's losing control.

He moves slowly, making sure I adjust to him, and I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut from the growing sensation.

"James, it’s too big.. my god," I whisper.

"Take your time," he says softly, leaning down to kiss my forehead gently.

He moves with a natural sensuality, gradually increasing the pace, his breaths becoming deeper and blending with mine. The sensations intensified, overwhelming me in the best way, as I felt chills running through my body, drawing me closer to him. It’s as if the connection between us both is growing stronger with every moment.

At one point, he shifts, adjusting my position gently, but without losing his rhythm. He places my leg over his shoulder, his touch tender yet firm as he continues, while his lips travel down to kiss and caress my foot. I marvel at how he seems to know exactly what I need, responding to every shift and movement, almost as if he can read my thoughts.

In this new position, everything feels deeper. His thrusts became stronger, more powerful, and the pace quickens, building the tension between us both. Every touch, every breath, seems perfectly timed.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, sensing my moans growing louder with every passing moment.

“Fucking not, please continue… don’t stop” I cry out, my voice trembling with anticipation, as I feel the intensity build even more.

The situation starts to spiral, and he moves deeper, relentlessly, his thrusts becoming more powerful. His hand rests on my lower abdomen, intensifying the sensation with every thrust.

“Shit, I’m… I’m about to...” he breathes out, his voice strained. My vision blurs as I press my hands to my face, unable to control the gasps escaping me. Eventually, I feel a rush of sensation, waves of heat spreading through me. And I feel my hot cum coming out little by little.

“Jesus Christ!” I exclaim, trembling. Shortly after, he thrusts deeper, his grip tightening as he slows, his body shuddering with a low, almost animalistic groan.

We both look at each other, still processing the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

“What just happened?” he asks, laughing in disbelief, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his hand.

He slowly pulls away from me, and we both let out a soft gasp. He lies down beside me, his head resting gently in my hair. We stay there in silence, our breathing slowly returning to normal.

I feel a deep sense of well-being, completely content and at peace in the moment. I don’t want anything more right now—I’m fully satisfied and happy. Before I even realize it, I fall asleep.

I wake up after a while, feeling a blanket draped over me, but underneath, I’m still naked. My body feels warm, and I blink a few times, trying to focus. I glance ahead and see James sitting with his back to me on a stool, the guitar resting on his lap, he’s focused, writing something in a notebook. The room is dark, and I can't quite tell how long I've been asleep.

“How long did I sleep?” I ask, my voice hoarse and still thick with sleep. He turns to look at me, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, welcome back,” he says, his voice warm and easy. “I think about an hour.”

I slowly sit up, the blanket still wrapped around me. It’s not cold, but I feel exposed without clothes, even though James has already seen everything of my body.

I get up and walk over to him. "How long are you planning to stay here working?" I ask, curious but not in a rush.

He grins, his goofy, wide smile taking over his face: “I could stay and sleep here, you know I’m like a homeless guy” he says, leaning back on the stool. It’s the same old James—the carefree, easygoing guy I know so well. I had feared that things would be different after everything that happened, but here he is, still the same funny, spontaneous guy I’ve always known.

"Do you want me to take you home?" he asks, his eyes still focused on the notebook.

“Mmm, no, if I’m not bothering you, I’ll stay here. I’ve got my suitcase. Maybe I’ll freshen up,” I say, not feeling like leaving just yet. James and I are both free spirits—neither of us has roots. Sometimes it’s painful, but it also connects us in a way. We don’t owe anyone anything, and we’re each other’s family in this unpredictable world.

He smiles, his eyes lighting up with a playful gleam. I want to kiss him, but I hesitate, unsure if it's the right moment. Still, seeing him smile like that makes my chest feel lighter.

"You can take a shower if you want… if you’re not grossed out by the pubic hair and are brave enough" he says, with that usual nonchalant tone of his.

I laugh softly, shaking my head, rolling my eyes at his cheekiness. I walk past him toward my suitcase, covering myself with the blanket. “Why are you walking around like a native american? Didn’t seem like you were shy an hour ago.”

I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, a blush creeping up as I turn slightly away from him. I glance at him quickly, a little embarrassed, before grabbing my bathrobe and the shower gel.

After the shower, I feel like a new person—refreshed, recharged, and ready for whatever. I step out of the bathroom, my bathrobe wrapped tightly around me, my hair still damp. James is half-lying on the couch, a beer in hand, staring at the ceiling with a relaxed expression. His fingers lightly tap the pillow, keeping time with the music that’s playing in his head.

He stretches his arm out, offering me the beer bottle. I sit beside him and take a sip, the cold bottle feeling comforting in my hand.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask, curious.

“Everything and nothing,” he says, his smile playful, resting his head in his hand and making a goofy face. The warmth of the moment makes me feel at ease, like nothing has changed between us.

“Want to listen to some music?” I suggest, and he nods, clearly eager. After a brief debate, we agree on Lynyrd Skynyrd, the perfect background music for the night. He gets up to grab yet another beer, and I lean back on the couch, content in the quietness that fills the space between us.

We talk about everything—what’s coming up with the tour, how my work has been lately, Lars' latest antic (as usual), and just about life in general. Our conversation flows effortlessly, like it always does, and I lose track of time.

Before I know it, it’s already 10 p.m. I glance at the clock—still in my bathrobe, not really caring. We’ve lost count of how many beers we’ve had. I feel a little disoriented from the drinks and the lack of food, but I don’t mind. Our dinner had been a bag of chips we shared, and it felt perfect in the moment.

“Let me get comfortable,” James says, his voice light, and I chuckle, not sure if he’s joking or being serious.

He pulls off his pants and t-shirt, leaving just his boxers, while Jimi Hendrix plays softly in the background. Without even realizing it, I find myself staring at him. Just a few moments pass, and I instinctively drop the bathrobe, now fully exposed. I catch a flicker of excitement in his eyes.

I move closer, crawling onto the couch, and he shifts to give me more room, spreading his legs to make space.

“Round two?” I ask, my voice teasing but confident.

“You don’t even need to ask,” he responds, his tone firm, pulling me gently toward him.

This time, I took control. I kiss him passionately, my lips meeting his with a hunger that surprises me. I bite his lower lip softly, and he responds, our movements slow and purposeful as we connect deeply.

I reach toward him, my hand brushing against the fabric of his boxers, feeling the tension in his body. He keeps his gaze locked with mine, and I can sense the energy between us. He gently places a finger to my mouth, a silent request. I sucked it sofly but with determination and shortly after he slowly reaches my nipple, playing with it.

I lower his boxers slowly, the anticipation in the air thickening. I start stroking his cock. It's the first time I touch it, and my hand compared to it it's rather little. With the other hand, I start to massage his testicles. He closes his eyes and gasping he let his head fall on the couch. “Fuck..” He moans, letting the beer fall on the ground but we don’t even notice it and I start to stroke him with both my hands increasing the pace.

"Do you like this?" I ask, my voice low and soft, the question hanging between us.

He lets out a breath, his fingers tightening on the leather of the couch. His voice is almost a whisper, yet filled with intensity. "Isn't it obvious?" he murmurs, his answer sending a ripple of heat through me.

Watching him react to my touch, the way his body moves and shudders with each breath, heightens the desire building inside me. His chest rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern, each inhale and exhale deep and uneven, a sign of the pleasure he’s experiencing. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming, and I can feel my own heart racing in response.

There’s a certain power in the way he surrenders to the moment, his vulnerability making him even more alluring. I let the quiet tension build between us, each passing second drawing us closer, before I decide to take the next step.

I start licking the shiny and swollen tip of it's length with my tongue with circular movements until I slowly reach the base of his cock. He’s in ectasy, he takes a slow, steady breath, but there's a slight quiver in it, a subtle sign of how much the sensation is affecting him. His pulse quickens, and his chest rises and falls with each breath, as though he's trying to steady himself against the growing feeling.

“I'm losing my mind” he says, his voice low and strained, his hand gripping the edge of the couch as he tries to steady himself. His body tenses, the intensity of the moment washing over him.

I continued for a bit, but I didn’t want to make him cum yet, so at some point I stopped. His eyes open, slightly dazed, and he looks at me with a mixture of surprise and desire.

I shift slightly, turning around and positioning myself on top of him, my back facing him. I took his member and I push it gently against my entrance making me gasp for his size. His hands rest gently on my hips, guiding my movements with a quiet intensity.

We both move together, the rhythm of our bodies in sync, each moment more intense than the last. He starts touching my ass with force and sometimes slapping it making me flinch.

“Lean forward, I wanna see everything.” He said, his voice low, full of intent. I comply, and leaning down I rest my clit on his testicles and the rubbing made me wail.

“You’re so damn sexy...I’m about to come” He says moaning louder. I feel that he's close so I rest my hand on his leg and with the other I touch my clit, I want so desperately cum with him. I squeeze around his dick to increase the stimulation while rolling my hips just enough to feel his entire length inside me. The sensation is so good and I moan so loudly that I bet they would be heard even outside the studio, but I couldn't care less, the only thing that matters is this.

“Fuck, Fuck…. I’m cumming” He cries, lifting his hips, pushing me down, squeezing my waist tightly making me feel his dick even more deeper. His voice becomes lower, breathier, each word strained as if he's barely able to hold back. His member pulsing inside my walls as he releases his hot seed inside me while my hand moving to my clit made me cum insticively.

"Oh my god!" I gasp, breathless and overwhelmed. The waves of sensation course through me, making my body tremble for a few seconds as the intensity of the moment lingers.

“I love fucking with you..You have no idea” James gasps, his breath uneven as he tries to steady himself, his body still vibrating from the intensity of the moment. He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, as he attempted to regain his composure.

As I finally catch my breath, I settle beside him, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. We don’t need words; our bodies have already said everything we need to hear. The silence is peaceful, comforting, and I can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing next to me. He kisses my forehead gently and his hand brushes softly over my shoulder, sending a wave of calm through me. I wish I could freeze this moment, feeling so deeply grateful for everything between us. The music plays softly in the background, a peaceful melody that lulls us both. We fall asleep together, entwined, naked and safe in each other’s arms.

#james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #james hetfield x reader #metallica #metallica x reader #metallica fanfiction #metallica smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #writers on tumblr

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 1 year ago

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Remember me as small (I fear I've swallowed the sun whole)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist here

pairing: mentioned dick grayson x reader, platonic bruce wayne x reader

length: 900

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: bruce is a sort of father figure to reader, reader kind of has a meltdown, dick is idk downstairs partying while this happens

a/n: soft launching Good Dad Bruce Wayne here before I let y'all have the bruce wayne verse, I think it's nice to read it isn't always easy before this but it's unnecessary

You're standing in Bruce's study when he finds you, drink in one hand while the other stays wrapped around your own waist - like a child clinging to their parent, except the only person you had to cling to was yourself. You don't move when he approaches, quietly closing the door behind him and coming to stand next to you, eyeing where the joint contract of your company's new deal with Wayne Industries sits framed on his wall amongst his various other professional achievements.

"Have I made enough of myself?" you ask quietly, and the tone of your voice sends warnings through Bruce's head. He's heard you like that before - small and scared and tired. Unsure. And you never let yourself be seen as unsure. But he'd seen it a few times, many years ago when he'd first met you, a lost child with your hackles raised too high to let him help you. He didn't like hearing that voice coming from you, especially not now when you were here in his home - somewhere where you should be safe and happy.

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" he prompts gently, tenderly pulling your drink out of your hands and setting it on a nearby table. You look at him with wide, watery eyes and his heart clenches.

"Have I done enough?" you whisper, as if speaking any louder would tear holes in the blanket you've pulled over your emotions. "I'm not small anymore, right? Not like I was. I… I'm bigger now. I'm good now. I grew into something good, right? I made… I made something of myself… didn't I?"

"If you made any more of yourself, sweetheart, you'd outgrow the sun," he whispers back as he takes one of your hands in both of his, flipping it so that your palm is facing up and he can smooth over the tension under your skin with gentle thumbs and soft pressure.

"Do you remember when I was small?" you ask tentatively, keeping your eyes trained on your joined hands while he keeps his own trained on you.

"Yes," he says easily, squeezing your hand in acknowledgement. I'm here, it meant. I'm here and I remember you. "Although you were hardly small, even then. Your heart was so big, you just needed time to grow into it."

"Did I grow up well?" your voice wavers and Bruce pulls you closer to him by your joined hands before placing your palm on his chest over his heart. I'm here. I'm here and I'm real and I remember you. He hopes you can feel that through the beating of his heart.

"You grew up perfectly," he says, conviction clear in his voice. "And I couldn't be more proud." You make a small, wounded sort of sound at that and your breath hitches in a way he knows means you're about to cry. He begins to move to pull you into him but pauses when you brace yourself on your own two feet, determinedly steadying yourself on your own against the tidal wave of your emotions.

"Bruce?" you ask. He hums in response.

"I want to go back to being small." That throws him. Of all the confessions that could have passed your lips, that wasn't one he was expecting. The tears that begin to stream down your face, at least, he's prepared for. "I want to be small again, I - I want to go back to when I was small and you offered to love me and take me in and - and I want to say yes this time." You're really crying now, hot tears streaking your cheeks and your chest heaving. "I should've let you when you offered and it's too late and I just - I want to go back to when I could've been loved because I can do it right this time I can say yes I -"

Bruce stops you then, finally, shushing you gently (but firmly, in that authoritative, fatherly way that he does) and pulls you closer to him so that you can bury your face in his chest and sob into the fabric of his dress shirt. He holds you like that for a good long while, doing his best to soothe you despite the worry that knots in his stomach. This isn't like you, he thinks. He doesn't like seeing you collapse like this. A part of him, though, although guilty, is almost relieved - pleased that you've turned to him instead of managing it on your own. As much as he hates to see you cry, he would always rather be there than turn away from you.

"Listen to me very closely, sweetheart," he says gently, once your sobs have quieted and calmed down to little sniffs and hiccups. You pull away to look at him. "It's not too late," he promises. "You're always home here - always. And I'll always be here. And… and I do love you. I've never been the best at showing it. I'm sure - I'm sure Dick's told you enough about that." You huffed out a laugh.

"Yea, uh, he's mentioned it."

"Yea," Bruce says, shifting his weight. "But, I do love you, and you're just as much my child as the others. I'm sorry I… I'm sorry I didn't realize you needed to hear that sooner. I'm sorry I didn't help more. I thought that maybe letting you keep yourself upright was the best thing to do. I didn't want to push, I - I was so afraid of pushing you away. But I never, ever, wanted you to feel unloved. You're home here, I promise."

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