#until i inevitably delete these posts later

[butchshepherd]

i am insane and i need a dog before i steal one from someone (for legal reasons this is a joke)

[sea-beam]

twitter addicts gotta be having the WORST time rn

[dailynnt]

ONE NIGHT AS THE PRICE OF A REQUEST

⋆˙⟡ Summary: You hate your neighbor Jungkook, but you have to ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend at a party to get rid of your annoying boss. He agrees, but you don't even imagine what you'll have to pay him with. Everything goes according to plan until Jungkook reveals his true price during the dance: one night with him or your life in the neighborhood will be hell.

⋆˙⟡ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook/Y/N

⋆˙⟡ Age restrictions: 18+

⋆˙⟡ Index of chapters: ≣

⋆˙⟡ Number of chapter: 5/?

⋆˙⟡ Tags: enemies-to-neighbors-to-lover, fake relationship, hate to desire, dom!Jungkook, heated blackmail, one bed trope (later more than one bed), undeniable chemistry, forced deal, mutual obsession, dangerous game, unexpected feelings, passion on edge, impossible to resist, tension and desire, unprotected sex, sexual tension, slow burning

⋆˙⟡ From author: And that's chapter 5 for you 🫶🏻 Tell me what you think about Jungkook’s proposal, will it be interesting to do it Y/N? I think so! Guys, due to my busy schedule at work, I will be posting chapters on weekends, but if it comes out faster I will post it right away. I love you all and thank you for being there for me, I need your support so much do not fade in this horrible world (by the way, a new song ‘MONA LISA’ of Hoseok, I'm just obsessed with it 😭❤️‍🔥😄)

⋆˙⟡ Dedication: to my biggest love @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle for loving me for nothing. I love you girls twice as much 🥺🤭💜🫶🏻

⋆˙⟡ Tag list: @kelsyx33, @curse-of-art, @kooko009, @smokinghotstargirl, @myjungkookthighs, @mskookie, @minimoninini, @medstudentlifestyle, @bhonbhon, @ottergirl (If you want to be on the tag list, let me know)

⋆˙⟡ Warning: English is not my native language, so please be lenient with mistakes in the text 🥹

Chapter 5. A Game of Love for Freedom

You were sitting in the back of a taxi, staring at the dark screen of your phone. The windows of the car were slightly fogged up, and you could only see blurry jumbles of the city's buildings, changing one after another. 

The taxi driver was driving silently, and the radio was playing some calm instrumental music. But there was no calm music inside you - only the hum of anger and frustration. You barely managed to slip out of the office before someone saw you. The journalists. They were already waiting at the entrance, armed with cameras and questions you didn't want to answer.

It was all inevitable. The news of Jungkook's new "girlfriend" was spreading at an incredible rate. Almost all the tabloids were not too lazy to write about you, and it was better not to read the comments on the articles at all. From now on, you are no longer just an employee of ‘EON Creative’. You are "his lover".

Your life no longer belonged to you.

You bit your lips nervously.

It was because of him that it all started. He was the reason you lost your job. Because of him, you had become a sensation to be savored on the Internet.

Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you typed a short message

📱 You: "Where are you?" 

And pressed "send". 

The answer came much faster than you expected. The phone vibrated literally a minute later. He answered: 

📲 Jungkook: "Who’s that remembered my phone number?" 

You felt everything shrinking in your middle. You hit the screen with your fingers. 

📱 You: "Where are you?" 

You ignored his words and repeated your message. You looked expectantly at the three animated dots that indicated that he was typing a message. 

📲 Jungkook: "Oh, so you already looking for me now?"

After a second pause, another message came:

📲 Jungkook: "I thought you already deleted my number. What? You missed me? 😏" 

📱 You: "We need to meet! Immediately!"

📲 Jungkook: "Immediately? What a tone... Are you always this demanding or is it just for me?"

You were already angry, but Jungkook seemed to be your curse, making you become absolutely evil. 

📱 You: "Jungkook, I'm not in the mood for your jokes."

📲 Jungkook: "And I'm not in the mood for your orders."

You hit the phone's touchscreen even harder. You started shaking with anger. 

📱 You: "Just fucking tell me where you are!" 

Jungkook was silent. You stared at his last text message, waiting for a response. He's just playing with fire. 

📲 Jungkook: "It depends on what you need me for. If you need to cry, I'm busy. If you want something interesting... maybe I can find a minute 😉"

You roll your eyes, trying not to throw your phone out the window.

📱 You: "Jeon, did you even see what happened? 

📲 Jungkook: "What happened kitten?"

📱 You: "Are you being on the internet? All of Korea knows, and you seem to be the last who’s knows that I'm your lover!" 

Jungkook didn't answer for a minute. He kept you waiting. You could not stand it and wrote your question again. 

📱 You: "We need to talk about it!" 

Jungkook didn't answer. You locked your phone and almost cursed out loud. You sighed heavily, feeling tired of everything that was happening. 

Your phone vibrated and you quickly opened a chat with Jungkook. 

📲 Jungkook: "I can only be free after 6 p.m. So if you want to come over in the evening, let's talk." 

You looked at his text message and were unhappy. Did you really need wait all day?

📱 You: "Hey, are you serious, this is important! I can't wait until the evening!"

📲 Jungkook: "And I can't change my schedule because of your tantrums."

You clutched the phone in your hand, trying not to explode. He really got you.

📱 You: "Tantrums? Are you kidding me? Because of you, I got fired, my phone is blowing up with calls, idiots from the press tracked me down under the company, and you're just going on with your life as if nothing happened?!" 

📲 Jungkook: "I can't write anymore. Let's talk in the evening. I'll write when I'm free." 

Jungkook left the chat and you wanted to tear yourself apart. You were so annoyed and angry. You locked your phone and closed your eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You didn't understand why you deserved to be put through such a trial. Where on earth did Jungkook come from? Why did you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend? But now nothing could be changed, only the problem had to be solved, and you were going to give the culprit of this situation do it. 

You got out of the car, paid the taxi driver, and quickly went up to your apartment. As you exited the elevator, you noticed the package with the dress you had left under Jungkook's door. It stood untouched and you involuntarily felt nausea. Because this dress was a vivid reminder of your mistake. You looked away and walked past, simultaneously thinking that Jungkook was either not home all this time as you had thought or he had simply ignored your return and left this package just standing there.

You entered into your apartment. There was silence outside the door, but even that didn't bring you peace. You took off your jacket, threw your phone on the couch, and went into the bathroom. You washed your hands and looked in the mirror. You looked... depressed. Your eyes were a little red from tension, your lips were pressed into a thin line. You'll have to wait for Jungkook all day. Maybe it's for the best. Your anger will calm down and you'll be able to tell him normally, without yelling, that he's to blame for this whole situation and he personally has to solve it in a matter of days! 

You did not know what to do. You were in such a state that you wanted to cry and drink until you passed out. But you didn't want to drink alone, and Jisu wouldn't be free until 7:00 p.m., so that wasn't an option either. She was working right now and your chest was tight with the thought of work. 

So when you left the bathroom, you sat down on the couch and focused on your phone. You wanted to order some food. Yes, delicious food will help to quench your irritation and raise your mood, which was lower than the level of the Mariana Trench. 

You wanted to open the food delivery app, but instead your fingers clicked the browser icon and you saw a bunch of articles similar to the one you read in the morning. The photo was the same, but the headlines were different: 

"Who is the mysterious girl who enchanted the heir to the ‘Jeon Group’?"

"A romantic night at a corporate party: Jong Jungkook and his new passion?"

"Their looks speak for themselves! A secret romance within the walls of ‘EON Creative?’"

And even worse were the comments that you knew you shouldn't read, but you were curious.

"Of course, another one who wants to make it to the elite."

"Is she even pretty? You can't see her face."

"Ha, she's just using him! Poor Jungkook, I hope he doesn't waste money on her."

"Why do all the girls who get spotted with him think they're special?"

"Well, if Jungkook likes girls like that, I have bad news about his taste."

"Of course, another one who sleeps with the bosses."

The last comment made you throw your phone on the couch and run your hands over your face tiredly.

It was so unfair.

You were made out to be someone you weren't. Everyone around you was just talking about you, as if you were no longer a person, but just an object for gossip.

You got up and went to the bathroom. You turned on the water and listened to the sound of it, and it calmed you down a bit. You undressed and when the bathtub was sufficiently filled with water, you got in and tried to relax. 

The hot water enveloped your body, and for a few seconds you allowed yourself to close your eyes. The heaviness in your chest eased a little, but the words you read still echoed in your head. "Another one who sleeps with the bosses." That was the most offensive thing. The most painful.

You had never looked for easy ways, never sucked up to your bosses to get promoted. You worked your ass off, even doing extra tasks to maintain a good reputation. And now it's all ruined. Because of one man.

Your lips pressed together, and you took a deep breath. 

Giving yourself an hour to calm your nerves, you stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping yourself in a towel. You heard the sound of the message. Your heart skipped a beat - Jungkook? Had he gotten off work early?

You walked over to the couch and picked up the phone. The message was from Jisoo.

📲 Jisu: "How are you? I saw the articles. It's just horrible. Has Jungkook done anything yet?"

You bit your lower lip as you typed your answer:

📱 You: "No. But we have to meet up. What about you? How are things at work?"

📲 Jisu: "Like a tinderbox. Everyone is talking about you and Jungkook. The boss is angry, but it's more because of the press attention. He says it's bad for the company's reputation."

📱 You: "So it's nothing new... 😑"

📲 Jisu: "Yeah... But I'm here for you and if you want to talk, I'm ready."

📱 You: "Thank you dear, we will definitely talk about it..." 

You exhaled and put the phone down on your lap. It was a little easier to know that Jisu was supporting you, but it didn't change the situation. You were still the center of the scandal. 

Throwing the towel on the back of the couch, you went to the closet and dressed in a white short top and black sweatpants. You tied your hair in a careless bun to keep it out of your eyes. Your nerves were on edge, so you ordered some food: spicy fried chicken and beer. 

In the late in evening, it started to rain outside. It was pounding on the window sill, making a lot of noise. You looked at the clock on your phone. It showed 7.28 p.m. It was as if Jungkook was playing on your nerves on purpose. He said he'd be free after 6:00 p.m., but it was already half past eight and you hadn't heard from him. 

You had been lying on the bed for several hours, but you were boring. You got up and stretched your muscles when you heard your phone vibrate. The screen showed an incoming call from Jungkook. For some reason, your heart started beating faster. You grabbed the phone and put on the green button. 

"Hello." Your voice was reserved. 

"I'm under the house, come down to my car.  I only have ten minutes." 

You raised your eyebrows. 

"Really? You kept me waiting all day and now you only have ten minutes?"

"If there's something you don't like, we can talk another time." he said nonchalantly. 

You rolled your eyes and exhaled in frustration. You are a ball of nerves today. 

"Why can't you lift up?" you asked as you walked to the front door to go downstairs to see him. 

"I have to leave immediately after this, and I don’t want to waste time. So if you want to talk, lift your sweet ass and come down to me…" You could feel that he was saying it with a smile.

"Okay." you growled and hung up the phone. You put on your sweatshirt, pulled the hood over your head and left the apartment. 

It was wet outside and the rain was pounding down on Seoul at night. You saw Jungkook's black Maybach GLS. It was parked right in front of your door. You quickly got into the front seat, but the rain still managed to get you a little wet. 

Jungkook gave you a quick glance and then focused on the road ahead. He pulled out of the driveway to go to a place where his car wouldn't be in the way. 

"Did you get wet?" his voice was relaxed, even if you could tell he sounded tired. It was the first time in your life you'd ever seen him sound so preoccupied. 

"Of course!" you pulled off your hood and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look normal. "Not everyone has a security guard running around with an umbrella whenever they need to." 

"I don't have security either. And you could have brought an umbrella with you." He gave you a quick glance. 

"You made me run up here instead of going upstairs like a normal person!" you protested. 

Jungkook didn't answer, but the corners of his lips twitched. Obviously, he found your indignation amusing. Jungkook stopped the car in an open parking lot on the street and when he finished parking, he turned to you, still smiling slightly. He looked calm, even a little relaxed. His hair was perfectly styled with a parting in the middle. His black shirt, unbuttoned at the top buttons, and dark jacket made him even more... dangerously attractive.

You looked at him that to you could to show him your anger, and you felt your stomach lurch. Did you just feel fucking butterflies in your stomach just because of the way he looked? 

"So, what are we going to talk about?" asked Jungkook, making his smile wider.

"Settle this 'mistress' nonsense and give me my job back!" You immediately blurted out all your demands to him. Jungkook's eyebrows flew up. He chuckled in surprise, clearly impressed by the way you spoke. 

"I don't understand. Are you asking me for help again? As I recall, you said you would 'never' ask for it again." Jungkook leaned back, staring at you greedily. How the fuck can you look so sexy wearing a regular top and sweatpants? Jungkook lowered his gaze to your figure. Your cardigan was unbuttoned, and you were wearing a white top with no bra underneath. He could clearly see your nipples through the fabric. He couldn't help but think back to the night he fucked you so well. His thoughts were already going the wrong way. He looked down at your sweatpants and thought about how easy it would be to get his hands underneath them to touch your pussy. 

"This is not a request for help, a genius. You are to blame for this whole situation and you are the only one who can solve it!" You said angrily, snapping Jungkook out of his thoughts. He raised his eyes to your face. For a few seconds, he looked into your eyes full of anger and then leaned over, leaning on the armrest. You instinctively leaned back, but not too far. 

"You asked me to play the role of your boyfriend. Why are you making me the only one to blame?" Jungkook asked seriously, but not without a hint of playfulness in his voice. Your eyes darted between his. 

"That's what I asked. But I didn't know you were the goddamn heir to the ‘Jeon Group’! Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" you asked. Jungkook pressed his lips together and you looked at them against your will. He noticed this and deliberately ran his tongue over his lips. 

"Did you ask?" asked Jungkook, watching you stare at his lips in awe. You forced yourself to look away when you heard what he was saying. You opened your mouth at his absurd question. And then you gave a hysterical short laugh. 

"So I'm supposed to come to you and ask you to play the role of my boyfriend and then give you a questionnaire so you can fill in your entire biography?" your voice trembled with anger. 

Jungkook smiled slyly, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"That's right, kitten. It would be interesting," he replied, looking you over calmly. "Although it would hardly change anything, would it?" he stared at you again, as if enjoying his every word. 

You took a deep breath, trying to control the wave of irritation.

"It would have changed everything! I would never have asked you to be my boyfriend!" 

"Then you would have missed out on a great opportunity to spend the night with me." Jungkook said, remembering how you paid for his service. His voice sounded mocking, but his eyes flashed with something deeper.

"Speaking of the night... are you okay with cheating on your fiancée?" you asked with curiosity in your voice. The fact that you were sleeping with them while he had a fiancée triggered you just as much. Jungkook tensed up. His smile remained in place, but his eyes darkened. He leaned back slowly, watching you as if assessing you. 

"Me?" he raised his eyebrows in surprise, jabbing a finger at his chest, "Cheating?" he tilted his head, and his voice was still lightly playful, mixed with challenge.

"Well, your fiancée is Kang Sukhi, who everyone knows about, except me of course, because I didn't know you at all. Is that okay?" 

"I didn't cheat on anyone, kitten. You're confused..." Jungkook was still smiling and you could tell he was having fun with the whole situation, but you weren't in the mood for amusement. 

"You're officially engaged, but you're still fucking me!" you almost shouted as you leaned forward. Jungkook was amazed at your angry reaction to Suhy, didn't it look like jealousy? In his eyes, it was more than that. He straightened up, looking you straight in the eye. 

"No. We're not officially engaged. If it's so important for you to know, I haven't promised her anything. For me, she is nothing more than a convenient formality for the family business. And if you think that I ever belonged to her..." his fingers lightly touched a strand of your hair, making your skin tingle. "...you'd be very wrong."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to show how something stirred inside you. You batted his hand away and turned away, crossing your arms over your chest. 

"It doesn't change the fact that I slept with you without knowing the truth." 

"And do you regret it?"

The question hovered between you, making you hold your breath.

"Yes." You lied, answering too quickly. 

Jungkook leaned forward a little, watching you.

"You're lying."

His confidence pissed you off.

"Enough! I don't want to continue this topic..." 

"You started talking about it ," Jungkook said, laughing. You looked at him angrily and he just shook his head. 

"You're nothing but trouble for me! And it's been like that since we first met. I don't want anything to tie us together! So do everything the way it was before you! Say that I'm not your mistress and that you have a beautiful fiancée whom you love very much. And make my boss take me back to work!" you demanded. Jungkook just smiled. He could barely stop himself from throwing kisses at you. Your anger turned him on and lit a dangerous fire inside him. 

"What are you going to give me in return?" He asked as soon as you finished speaking. You stared at him, not understanding what he was asking. 

"What?" you asked nervously. 

"Well, you don't think I'm just going to decide this, do you?" he lazily ran his fingers over the steering wheel.

You felt like you were on the verge of exploding. 

"Are you really that pathetic that you want to make me pay for your own mistake?" you asked sarcastically. 

"Mistake?" Jungkook smiled, but his eyes instantly darkened. "I wonder what exactly I did wrong? I went along with your adventure and saved you from the boss." 

"You should have told me who you were..." 

Jungkook exhaled, you kept saying the same thing and he was getting a little tired of fighting with you. 

"Okay, how do you see the solution to this problem?" Jungkook suddenly asked.

"I told you. Just make an official statement that there is nothing between us. And... and tell Mr. Kang to put me back to work!" Jungkook chuckled.

"See, you're who’s making a mistake. If I tell them there's nothing between us now, it'll be even worse for you. They'll think I used you and then dumped you. It'll only make your reputation worse." 

You pressed your fingers to your temples.

"Then what?" 

He slowly leaned toward you, his face too close, his perfume too seductive.

"I have another proposal. It will be beneficial for both of us." 

You stared at him questioningly, listening to your own heartbeat. 

"I don't want to marry Sukhi. But my parents want to make me. But if you pretend to be my girlfriend, the I can be free from the engagement." 

You were stunned by his words. Again pretend to be his girlfriend? That's ridiculous. It's nonsense. You laughed softly, looking at his face. 

"This game again? Where garanty you sure if you show me to your parents you stand free from the engagement? You said yourself that this marriage is good for business." 

"That's exactly the biggest problem. My parents are forcing me, putting pressure on me because of the business. But I don't want to do that. That's why I'm offering you this deal. You have to look as convincing as possible so that it is Sukhi who breaks off this engagement, or her father. And I will make sure that the media stops writing dirt about you, and instead of returning you to the position of the PR manager, I will give you a good job in the main company." 

You hold your breath. His offer sounds so tempting and so simple. But this is Jungkook, and there are always pitfalls in his offers.

"And I'll pay you, for the time you don't work." 

You turned away and stared at the windshield, where water was running down from the heavy rain. You should accept his offer right away because it sounds like you hit the jackpot. You wanted to laugh. This offers sounds like you'll climb the career ladder thanks to him. But do your principles and efforts matter anymore? Everything you've achieved on your own has been destroyed, so what's the point of staying proper? All of Korea already considers you "the one who sleeps with the bosses." But you knew it wouldn't be easy. You looked back at Jungkook, who was waiting for your answer. 

"So, what's it going to look like?" 

Jungkook stretched his lips in a smug smile, as if he was anticipating victory. He leaned even closer, clutching the steering wheel his hand.

"We'll be together," Jungkook said, savoring the words. "Going to events, showing up at restaurants, sometimes letting the paparazzi catch us in the act... Basically, doing everything a couple should do. I need Sukhi to believe that." 

You wrinkled your nose, and he almost laughed.

"That sounds like some kind of soap opera."

"It's business, kitten. It's just business. You get everything you want: reputation, job, money. And I get my freedom." 

"What if your fiancée comes to me to pull out all my hair?" Jungkook smiled even wider, leaning back.

"Sukhi? She's too proud to make a scene. She'd rather pretend to change her mind."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your skepticism.

"What if she doesn't change her mind?"

Jungkook hummed, his fingers drumming lazily on the steering wheel.

"Then we'll have to work a little harder."

You rolled your eyes.

"Fine. But what else is included in this 'little harder'? I assume you'll want some... public gestures?"

Jungkook nodded slowly, as if confirming your worst guess.

"Hugs, hand-holding, kissing. Nothing supernatural."

"Kissing?" you asked, even though it was the obvious thing you were supposed to do as a "couple". 

"Don't act like we haven't done it before," he smirked, leaning in a little closer. "I'm sure you like kissing me..."

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let his voice make your body react treacherously.

"And how long is this going to last?"

"Until I get out of this engagement. Ideally, a month, maybe two."

"And if your plan doesn't work?"

Jungkook was silent for a moment and then answered with a smile on his lips. 

"Then you'll have to stay my girlfriend longer."

You exhaled, trying to assess all the risks. 

"But there is one condition," he added. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"What condition?" you asked, frightened. Knowing how he could set conditions, you could have expected anything. 

"As long as you play my girlfriend, you must not be with other men." 

You blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yes," his voice grew deeper, "you must be only mine." 

You didn't know what annoyed you more: the self-assurance in his voice or the way your heart responded to those words.

"Gosh, this is so annoying..." you stubbornly crossed your arms over your chest. You sat silently, weighing all the possible risks, and finally decided that this was a chance you couldn't miss. You exhaled heavily, "I agree only because I want my job and my reputation back. Nothing more." You accepting his offer. 

Jungkook pretended to think seriously.

"Very well, then. Well, then, we need to set some rules."

"Rules?"

"Yeah," he shrugged nonchalantly. "For example... no real feelings."

You huffed skeptically.

"No problem." 

You knew you could handle those rules. 

"No jealousy."

"What? Why would I even be jealous?"

"Good." Jungkook smiled with satisfaction. "And..." he paused, making you tense.

"What else?"

He leaned over the armrest closer, his hot breath licking your skin.

"Do all your best, that not to fall in love with me, kitten."

You felt a pang in your midsection, but you didn't let it show.

"Dreamer!" you said ironically, making him laugh.

"I'm just warning you. I can be very charming."

"Don't worry, Jungkook. You are the last person I could fall in love with. It's more about you. I’m think you need more controlling yourself, so you were the one who said something about 'you're mine, I won't let you go' and now you have a ticker on your forehead 'I want to fuck you right here'" you leaned closer to him, his perfume enveloping you again. "But it looks like ten minutes has passed and you're late."

You said, turning away, but Jungkook grabbed your hand, pulling you very close. 

Jungkook didn't say anything, but his grip on your wrist only tightened. His eyes darkened, and a familiar cheeky smile played at the corners of his lips.

"You know, kitten," his voice grew deeper, velvety, "I'm not denying that I want you right now." 

"I'm not surprised." you say confidently, your breathing quickening. 

"Would you be surprised if I tested how much you want me?" he reached for your crotch, but you quickly grabbed his hand and held it back. 

"What are you doing? Get your hands off me!" You said firmly. You were a little shocked to fact that in deep down you wanted him to continue. Jungkook applied a little more force, continuing to move his hand to the waistband of your sweatpants. You tried to resist, but when his fingers touched your bare stomach, you froze. Your faces were separated by a few centimeters. You looked up at him and saw that he was not going to give up on his idea.

"Come on, kitten, let's have a quick fuck in the car, satisfy our physical needs." he suggested ironically, reminding you of your own words.

"Do you really think I want to do this with you?" you asked still holding his hand, Jungkook smiled and slowly slipped his hand under your pants, as if to give you a chance to stop it. But you already can’t do yet. When his hand was on your folds, you gasped, and Jungkook cursed with a slight moan. 

"Your wet pussy answers your question." Jungkook whispered. You didn't let go of his hand, which was hidden in your pants. His fingers gently caressed your clit. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that this was happening for the second time between you. But his fingers felt so good on your pussy. You opened your legs wider to give him easy access to your pussy, and he took advantage of it. Jungkook's fingers skillfully built up the pleasant sensations between your legs. You got wetter and wetter as he smeared the moisture between your legs. 

Suddenly, you let out a moan, and it aroused Jungkook even more. He leaned down and captured your lips. His soft lips were not gentle at all, they were demanding and insistent. His tongue slid into your mouth and you accepted it without hesitation. Your kiss was greedy, as if you two had been waiting for this for years, as if you were forbidden and now you could do whatever you wanted. 

You ran your hand through his soft hair, ruining his perfectly styled hair. He purred against your lips when he felt you pull him closer. 

Jungkook plunged a finger into your passage. Your warm hole was so welcoming, and he knew for sure that his cock would be visiting it today. The thought of fucking that tight pussy again made his cock harden and twitch several times in anticipation.

You knew it was crazy. You knew you'd agreed to a fake relationship, not this. But, damn it, when he touched you like that, when your tongues touched each other, you couldn't think about the rules anymore.

He pulled away from your lips, took a deep breath, as if trying to pull himself together, but it was too late. His eyes darkened, and his breathing became heavy and hot. 

"You were in a hurry." you reminded him, breathing heavily against his lips. Jungkook plunged another finger inside you and you felt the pressure on your walls, and his thumb never left your clit. squeezed his shoulders with your fingers to ease the growing pleasure. 

"I have something more important to do. Let them wait." Jungkook said, smiling. You couldn't react normally to his words, feeling your orgasm approaching. And after a several seconds of holding it all in, you came on his finger. You squeezed his hand with your legs and he felt your clit twitching. 

He pulled his fingers out of your throbbing pussy, making you moan softly at the loss. He raised his hand to his lips and, without taking his eyes off you, licked his fingers as if savoring a forbidden fruit. His movement was so seductive that desire flared up inside you again.

"Sweets," he murmured hoarsely, leaning closer to catch the taste of your lips again.

You were on fire, your breath was ragged, and your heart was pounding. His scent of perfume mingled with your own scent of arousal. Jungkook no longer looked confident-he was hungry, almost obsessed.

His palms slid slowly under your top, caressing your skin. Each touch made your body react to him instantly - you gave in, letting him have you the way he wanted. His fingers, still wet from caressing you, left hot marks on your skin as he ran them up your stomach. His lips barely touched yours, taking his time, stretching the moment between desire and anticipation. And then they found yours again, this time the kiss was deeper, more greedy.

He squeezed your breast with his hand, massaging it, strengthening your desire to have Jungkook inside of you again.

"Fuck..." he muttered between your kisses and you could feel him holding back, how much he wanted more.

You ran your hands down his back, feeling the tension under your fingertips. Jungkook moved lower and slowly ran his tongue along your neck, leaving a wet trail, and then he lifted his head and stared at you.

"Climb on my lap, kitten, I have to fuck your tight pussy." he invited you. 

Jungkook sat down in his seat and pushed the chair back as far as possible. He tilted the back to get a better position. Jungkook flicked his tongue across his lips as if savoring the remnants of your kiss, and he took off his jacket and threw it in the back seat. Then he unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles, and finally removed his underwear, revealing his hard length that needed attention. You looked at Jungkook, not knowing what to do. He noticed you weren't moving and looked up at you. His lips stretched in a playful smile making him look damn hot as he was now. 

"What you want to taste the most delicious cock in your life or shall we get right down to business?" 

You felt your face flush red. You tried to hide your eyes, but Jungkook leaned over and took your face by the chin. 

"Come on, baby, take off your pants, or do you want me to do it?" 

"I wouldn't mind if you did it for me." you said, defying him. 

Jungkook stretched his lips into a predatory smile, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. Before you even had time to fully realize what you had said, he leaned closer, sliding his hands down your thighs. His fingers slowly, almost teasingly, ran up your skin, making you languish in anticipation.

"I know how you like it when I take your clothes off..." he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I like it too..." he admitted. 

He slowly hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants, successfully grabbing your underwear together with pants, and began to slowly pull them down. You lifted your hips so that they could slide down easily. His hands touched your skin, leaving a hot tingling sensation.

The rain outside the window monotonously pounded on the glass, creating an even more intimate atmosphere. The car was filled with your heavy breathing and the muffled light of the street lamps, which were smeared in the raindrops.

When your pants and underwear were completely off your legs, Jungkook took his time. His gaze slowly slid over you, and he licked his lips admiring what he saw in front of him.

"Such a beautiful body..." he murmured, licking his lips as if admitting the thought of what was to come.

He sat up straight and patted his thighs. You couldn't help but smile, but suddenly you felt him grab your hand and pull it. He was impatient. 

You climbed on top of him and sat on his lap. His excited cock rested against your pussy, and you felt how hard it was. His hands squeezed your naked thighs and his fingers lightly touched your back, forcing you to bend to meet him. 

His hands began to move slowly down your body, exploring every curve.

Jungkook kissed you again. It was a deep, desperate kiss, as if he was trying to leave an imprint of his desire on you. His fingers roamed over your skin, making you involuntarily cling to him tighter, squeezing him with your hips.

Jungkook broke the kiss and hurried to lift you up so you could ride him. You rose up just enough so he could press his cock against your entrance. 

"Don't you have a condom?" you asked, feeling the head of his cock already pressing against your passage. Jungkook started to plunge into you, and you bit your lip, feeling his big cock stretching your velvet walls. You were still in pain, even as Jungkook stretched you. 

His hands closed even tighter on your hips. His eyes glittered with a devilish light, and you knew he was going to say something bold.

"Do you need it? Don't you trust me?"

You froze, getting used to the feel of his cock in this position inside you. It felt even better than the first time you did it. Jungkook leaned down to your ear, running his tongue along the shell of it.

"I never trusted you." you breathed out. His tongue movement sent a wave of flies across your skin, even though the car was as hot as it could be. The windows were fogged up, and the world outside seemed to be non-existent. 

Jungkook was amused by your words. You didn't trust him, but for some reason you always did what he wanted. 

His confidence, this predatory and graceful behavior that balanced between passion and abuse, made your body burn even more.

He smiled, and then gave a sharp thrust with his hips, and you yelped in surprise. 

"It's funny," he whispered, his lips almost touching yours, "because right now you're sitting on my cock without a condom and you don't mind at all." His voice was so dangerously seductive that your heart was racing. He bit your lips. 

You began to move on his hips, creating a much-needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and only the thin fabric of his shirt saved him from scratches. 

His fingers squeezed your hips a little harder, making you feel the full force of his control. You moaned because Jungkook was fucking you so well. 

You moved slowly, letting yourself enjoy every second of this intimacy, but Jungkook didn't have that much patience. His hands squeezed your hips again, forcing you down deeper, faster, harder.

His breath was hot, his lips sought yours. His kisses were greedy, demanding, as passionate as his touch. He bit your lower lip, making you moan right into his mouth.

"Mmm... see that?" his voice was hoarse, predatory. "You're on fire, and you said you didn't trust me."

You wanted to answer, but he gave you a sharp thrust, and all words dissolved into your choked moan. Jungkook laughed a low, defiant laugh, his eyes burning.

"Oh, kitten, I love to hear you moan..." he whispered, running his hot palms along your back, and then slapping your ass sharply.

You arched your back, feeling the fire spreading through your body, pulling you even closer to him.

The rain outside the windows poured down harder, drumming rhythmically on the roof of the car, unable to drown out your sounds. It was so hot inside that the air felt heavy, almost intoxicating.

"Faster, baby," his voice was a low order. "Give me everything you've got."

Your heart exploded with tension and pleasure. And you did give him everything. 

Jungkook lifted you up sharply, making you feel every inch of his cock, and then lowered you down on top of him forcefully, tearing a loud moan from your lips. His fingers will leave marks on your thighs, he presses hard on your skin as if he was trying to make sure you wouldn't run away, that you belonged to him, here and now.

"Fuck Kook..." you moaned. 

You called him by his shortened name again during sex. He noticed it and made a point of it.

"What kitten, is it too much?" he asked. 

"I can't... anymore..." You said. But Jungkook didn't want to come so quickly. He wanted to get the most out of you because he didn't know how soon your next time would be. You like to play hard to get, but practice shows that you can't control yourself when he's around. 

"You can baby, I'm not done with you yet." he said breathing heavily. You felt him twitch inside you. 

Jungkook lowered you down on top of him again, and you cried out as you felt him fill you completely. He caressed your center. 

"Do you like it?" he pushed up again, making you bend over. "Tell me you like it when I fuck you."

You bit your lip, feeling waves of pleasure wash over you. He moved so fast, so deep, you couldn't focus on anything else. Only him. Only his body, colliding with yours in this stuffy, sweaty car.

"Yes... you're so fucking good at fucking me..." you admitted. And it was the piety truth. You'd felt it the first time you had sex. The connection between you two was like a drug. Jungkook was giving you an adrenaline rush that made you addicted. He smiled-self-satisfied, greedy, triumphant. Then he grabbed you even tighter, leaned forward, and dug his lips into your neck, leaving wet, trembling marks. He wanted to mark you so that you wouldn't forget those words when you pretended not to be interested in him again tomorrow.

His pace became even faster, deeper, more unbearable. You were no longer in control, your body trembling in his hands, accepting every thrust. And when he abruptly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, you felt a hot wave of pleasure sweep through you.

He groaned as he squeezed you, and then abruptly dropped his head onto your shoulder, breathing hotly on your skin.

Your breathing is heavy. Your pulse is frantic. You're both hot, exhausted, and you haven't yet realized that he came right inside you. 

Jungkook slowly leans back, holding you on top of him, his hands still on your back. He smiles slightly, tired but so hot.

"You're just divine..." he whispers, brushing his hand over your cheek.

Your mind clears a little bit. Your ears were buzzing, but when your breathing became more or less calm, you realized that you were sitting on Jungkook still with his cock inside of you. You rounded your eyes, and he raised his eyebrows in question, wanting to know what you were excited about. 

"Did you just cum inside me?" 

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[alsofoundinpeas]

A Gift of Belonging

Summary: Y/N often avoids family holidays due to her strained relationship with her family, who favors her brother. When Spencer Reid invites her to spend Christmas in New York with him and his mother, she discovers a new sense of warmth and belonging, making it the best holiday she’s ever had.

Requested fic!! 🥳: I was wondering if I could ask for a Spence and Y/N in which Christmas is approaching and Y/N usually spends it alone because she has a complicated relationship with her family that always favors her brother.

Maybe he has plans to go spend it with his mom and because they are in early times in their relationship he didn’t think to invite her, but once he finds out she’s alone, he takes her to meet his mom and they all have a really good time!

I was thinking something angsty, fluffy, and maybe smutty in the end? I don’t know, you’re the mastermind behind these beautiful creations, so whatever makes you feel inspired haha

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Very brief mention of alcohol. Strained relationship with family (repetitive I know). Oral (m!receiving), unprotected PinV sex (birth control is discussed beforehand but said conversation isn't actually in it), creampie (I wince every single time I type that). Fluffy holiday smut!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Reupload because I'm a bingus head and accidentally deleted when editing FORGIVE ME PLS!! I loved writing this request!! Huge thank you to @dalamjisung for the request. I hope you like it :') The song mentioned in the fic is December by Ariana Grande btw, but it's only mentioned because reader listens to it, it isn't mandatory for the fic. I have a few more requests lined up after this one, so as for right now my requests are closed until all of them get posted. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all!!! :) <3

Y/N sighed as she stared down at the text from her mom, re-reading it a few times before tossing her phone to the end of her bed with a frustrated groan.

Mom: Hey sweetie! Are you planning to come home for Christmas this weekend? If not, I completely understand. Honestly, I’m just happy your brother will at least be here. I think he’s bringing his new girlfriend, too, so that’s exciting! He’s always so good about making time for family. But again, no pressure if you’re too busy. I know you have a lot going on!

Her excuses were starting to wear thin, seeing as she had played the flu card for last year’s Christmas party and faked a work emergency to skip Thanksgiving. But the thought of attending her family’s Christmas only to spend the night listening to her brother's achievements, followed by the inevitable barrage of condescending questions about her life, was unbearable. Call her a Grinch or a Scrooge, but the holidays had become her least favorite time of year for this very reason.

Unfortunately, it didn’t even matter if it was a holiday or not. It never changed. Her family had always favored her brother, even when they were kids. She had a never-ending list of chores and rules, while he breezed through life with no curfew and no accountability. Any mistake he made seemed to fall on her, and heaven forbid she stayed out five minutes later than she was supposed to with her friends.

Despite their constant claims that there were 'no favorites,' it was painfully obvious who the real favorite was.

Y/N lay staring at the ceiling, weighing the pros and cons of skipping Christmas this year. On one hand, it would be nice to see her grandmother—the one person who had actually kept her promise of no favorites. But she could always visit her grandmother separately and avoid the hassle of sneaking away just to have a real conversation. On the other hand, her family was already used to being disappointed in her. What was one more excuse? She could always make it up next year.

After what felt like an agonizing eternity of indecision (though it was really only five minutes), she finally decided to skip Christmas again this year and stay home. Her family mostly gave money as gifts now that they were all adults, so she wouldn't be missing much—just a meal (takeout had never let her down) and some forced small talk with extended family (who never really seemed interested in her life anyway).

Y/N: Hey, mom! I’m really sorry, but I’m going to have to miss this year too. There’s a bug going around at work and I’m worried I caught it :(

Her mom’s answer was immediate, and the guilt lifted from her shoulders as she rolled her eyes at the response.

Mom: Poor thing! You just have the worst luck when it comes to holidays huh? Your brother must have taken all the good immune system genes or something LOL!! That’s okay, dad and I will mail your gift and I’ll send you lots of pics. Hope you feel better soon!

After firing off a quick 'Thanks, love you!' Y/N rose from the bed, let out a sigh, and wandered to the kitchen for a bottle of wine.

She’d tried to convince herself that her parents' indifference no longer hurt, but what had dulled into a constant ache over the years flared into a sharp sting during the holidays. No one wanted to be alone at Christmas, but she knew she had to prioritize her peace of mind—and that meant avoiding an entire day spent deflecting passive-aggressive jabs while her brother soaked up all the attention.

The one person who could make her feel better was across the country, tied up with a case. She wasn’t upset with him—far from it. Y/N admired the work he did and the way he dedicated himself to saving people without ever getting the recognition he deserved. Still, it had been over a week since she’d last seen Spencer, and all she wanted was to curl up in his arms and hear him tell her that everything would be okay.

As if the universe had picked up on her tension, a knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump with a racing heart. She froze, eyes darting to the door, considering whether she should quietly move toward the knife block in case a dangerous stranger stood outside. It was barely 8:30, and she hadn’t been expecting anyone.

After a second round of knocks, relief washed over her as a familiar voice called "Y/N? Sweetheart?" She rushed to the door, unlocking it as quickly as she could and flinging it open to find an exhausted-looking Spencer standing on the other side.

“Spence!” Y/N cooed excitedly, wrapping her arms around him tightly before pulling him inside. “When did you get back? I thought you guys wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night?”

Not that she was complaining at all. She loved any time she could spend with Spencer. They’d only been dating for a little over two months, but she’d already fallen hopelessly in love with the sweet genius that she met when he accidentally stumbled into her while in line at their favorite coffee shop (she later found out it was no accident and that Morgan intentionally shoved him into her because Spencer was too afraid to make the first move).

“Technically we weren’t supposed to be, but we ended up getting a confession so it took way less time than we anticipated to finish the case. And with Christmas coming up this weekend, Gideon figured the sooner we got home the better,” Spencer explained with a small, tired grin as he slipped off his shoes and sat his satchel down. “I hope you don’t mind that I showed up, I just really missed you. I tried to call beforehand, but I thought maybe your phone was dead or something...” His eyes caught sight of the wine bottle on the island and paused, arching a brow before glancing back down at her. “Rough night?”

Y/N blew out an exasperated huff of air, nodding as they made their way over to her couch. She cuddled into his side immediately, relishing in the feeling of finally being able to do so. Spencer had been hesitant when they first started dating with physical touch, but once he pushed past the initial discomfort, he couldn’t get enough of her affection.

“Yeahhh. I had to tell my mom that I’m not making it home for Christmas again this year and it just�� stressed me out a bit.”

Spencer’s face scrunched in confusion, looking down at her worriedly. “Oh, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you not feeling good? Or what’s stopping you from going?”

Right. They hadn’t had the whole “I love my family from a distance because they act like brother is Saint Michael himself” talk yet. Y/N nibbled at her lower lip, fidgeting with her hands before sighing.

“I… um, it’s complicated. I just prefer not to see my family around the holidays because they’ve always had this weird favoritism for my brother and as I got older I just decided it wasn’t worth sacrificing my peace for.”

Spencer frowned, nodding in understanding before his face lit up with realization.

“Well, if you’d like, you could join me and my mom for Christmas? If you don’t want to be alone, that is. Not that I’m trying to pressure you into meeting her! I just planned to check her out of the sanitarium this weekend and bring her to New York City since she’s been doing better on her medication. I’m sure she’d love to meet you, and I, of course, love any time I get to spend with you—“ Spencer began, his words tumbling out nervously as his face flushed and his voice pitched higher.

Y/N’s heart skipped at the invitation, her face lighting up into a wide grin as she gently cupped his face, halting his nervous rambling. He met her gaze, and she smiled softly. "Spencer, I’d love to join you and your mom for Christmas—only if you’re really sure you’re okay with it."

Spencer had first mentioned his mother's illness on their third date, explaining himself after abruptly excusing himself to take a call from her nurse. It was also the night of their first kiss—he had started panicking, flustered and trying to explain his sudden exit, and Y/N thought he might cry. So, she kissed him to calm his nerves. Once he’d settled down, she reassured him that it was completely fine, that she understood how important his mother was to him, and that she’d love to learn more when he was ready to share.

That night, Spencer realized, without a doubt, that he was falling in love with her.

"It’s settled then," Spencer said with a grin, leaning forward to kiss her quickly. "I’m so excited to spend Christmas with my two favorite people. I was actually thinking we could get tickets to see The Nutcracker at Lincoln Center—"

Y/N listened intently, her heart swelling as she gazed at him with stars in her eyes, enchanted by his excitement as he shared the plans he’d made for the weekend. Although a little nervous, she couldn’t wait to share Christmas with him and his mom. They continued to plan the weekend, finalizing details between sleepy kisses and small yawns until they finally caved to their exhaustion and went to sleep.

The weekend arrived faster than she expected, and nervous excitement washed over Y/N as she waited for Spencer to pick her up from her apartment. She was packed and ready, excited to meet his mom and see New York City sparkling with Christmas decorations. For the first time in years, she felt something other than dread for the holiday, and she couldn’t be more grateful for her sweet boyfriend because of it.

Spencer had picked up his mom the day before, carefully explaining the plan to her during the drive home and making sure she felt well enough to go ahead with it. Diana was overjoyed at the idea of Y/N joining them for Christmas, assuring him she was feeling fine and could hardly wait to meet her.

For the first time in ages, Spencer felt like he had his mom back, her treatment progressing far better than he'd hoped. All it did was make him even more excited for the weekend ahead, his anxiety easing with each hour spent in the car on the way back to his apartment. It was comforting to open up to her about Y/N and to share what had been happening in his life beyond the letters he wasn’t sure she even remembered receiving.

The weekend turned out even better than Spencer had hoped. Diana and Y/N hit it off so well that Spencer found himself mostly on the sidelines of their conversations, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. It filled him with happiness to see his mom and the woman he was now certain was the love of his life getting along so effortlessly.

They had packed in every Christmas activity they could think of: admiring the lights, sipping hot cocoa, watching The Nutcracker... anything that felt festive was crossed off the list. By the end of the weekend, Diana was almost pleading with Spencer to make Y/N her daughter-in-law on the drive back to the sanitarium. Spencer could only laugh nervously, promising to do his best to make it happen.

Once Y/N got home, she knew she had to find a way to thank Spencer—not only for giving her the best Christmas of her life but also for being the most amazing boyfriend she could ever have hoped for. He was going to come back to her place tomorrow so they could exchange their gifts for each other, so whatever she did, she had to do it then before he inevitably got called in for another case. The real question was: how could she possibly show him just how grateful she was?

With a sigh, Y/N turned on her playlist and settled onto the couch, trying to brainstorm ideas. It felt like the harder she thought, the less her brain worked. After agonizing over ideas for nearly fifteen minutes, Y/N was at her wit's end, ready to settle for a card and a lengthy essay to express her gratitude, when the lyrics of the song playing suddenly grabbed her attention.

Merry Christmas, here I am, boy

I'm the present and you know it, here I am, boy

She sat up suddenly, a victorious grin spreading across her face as the perfect idea popped into her head. She and Spencer had yet to make it past second base, not for lack of desire, but because the opportunity never seemed to align—each time they got close, his phone would ring or something would interrupt, stopping them in their tracks. Tomorrow would be the perfect opportunity to finally take that next step and for her to show her appreciation for the sweet genius.

There was a perfect dark red satin lingerie set at a nearby boutique that would bring her vision to life, but it closed in just thirty minutes. Y/N threw on some clothes, making sure she looked presentable, then grabbed her keys and purse and rushed out of the apartment.

The cashier shot her a glare as she approached the counter, and Y/N internally groaned. She already felt like an asshole for being there so late, but she did still have fourteen minutes to spare before they actually closed. The guilt vanished when she met the cashier’s icy stare, and she grabbed her purchase with a mumbled thanks before she hurried out of the store. Sue her for wanting to look sexy for her boyfriend on Christmas.

The next day seemed to drag on, with Y/N anticipating the surprise she had planned for Spencer.

She cleaned the apartment until it was spotless, setting the perfect mood with scattered scented candles and dimming the lights. The room was softly illuminated by her Christmas tree—one she had convinced Spencer to help decorate at the start of the month—and a few strands of lights she had strung up. All of the presents were ready and waiting to be unwrapped.

Now all she was waiting on was Spencer himself.

Three firm knocks echoed at the door, marking his arrival—right on the dot at 5:00. As punctual as ever. Y/N opened the door with a thrilled smile, eagerly tugging him inside.

"Woah, hey! Hello to you too, sweetheart," Spencer chuckles loudly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all day, so excuse my enthusiasm,” Y/N said with a soft laugh. “Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry. We can do presents first and then eat, or eat and then unwrap them—whatever you prefer. I honestly could do either, it doesn't matter to me and of course, you're the guest so—”

Spencer grinned as she nervously rambled, her hands gesturing wildly as she listed off options. It was oddly comforting to him that she got just as nervous around him as he did around her. Even though she had quickly become the person he felt most at ease with, a part of him still felt those nerves—after all, she was the most incredible woman he’d ever met, and the thought of messing things up and losing her terrified him.

“How about we eat first and then open presents? Is that okay with you?” Spencer suggested, offering a small smile.

The tension in Y/N's body eased as she returned the smile, nodding in agreement. "That sounds perfect."

Dinner passed with casual conversation, both Y/N and Spencer chatting between bites about everything from the new book she was reading to the latest research paper Spencer had discovered and found fascinating. They ate more quickly than usual, both eager to exchange the gifts they had carefully picked out for each other. It wasn’t long before they were done, clearing the table and loading the dishes into the sink before heading into the living room.

The two of them sat together in front of the tree, feeling as giddy as a couple of kids as they finally began to exchange presents.

Spencer slowly unwrapped his first gift, his eyes softening as he revealed the delicate, intricately designed watch she'd chosen for him—a gift that held both practical value and deep sentimental meaning. He glanced up at her, a shy but sincere smile spreading across his face, and she felt the warmth in his gaze. “This is… perfect, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you. I’ll wear it every day, I promise."

“Always, Spence. I’m so glad you love it,” Y/N murmured, her eyes filled with affection as she watched him. She recalled how devastated he’d been when his previous watch had broken a few weeks ago. Though hers wasn’t as extravagant as his old one, it meant far more to him—because it came from her.

Y/N cherished every gift he gave her: a whimsical coffee mug to add to her collection, a journal with a playful inscription from him that made her laugh—promising she'd have a place to rant about her family when he wasn’t around to listen, a couple of books from her wishlist, and, lastly, her absolute favorite: a delicate locket on a thin chain, holding the first picture they’d ever taken together.

Once all the gifts were unwrapped, Y/N smiled and stood up, holding her hand out to Spencer. He looked at her in confusion but took her hand without hesitation, allowing her to lead him to the couch.

“Keep your eyes closed and stay right here. Your final gift is in my room,” Y/N instructed, a mischievous smile curling at her lips. As soon as his eyes were shut, she darted down the hallway to her room, stifling a soft giggle at the surprise she was about to unveil.

When she came back, she positioned herself between his legs, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, “Alright, Spence… you can open your eyes now.”

Spencer opened his eyes, nearly choking as he took in the sight in front of him. Y/N was standing there in a beautiful lingerie set, the bra designed so that it was a bow that he could untie to reveal her... Just like a present.

“Holly shit,” Spencer breathed, and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the rare curse slipping from his lips. Spencer hardly ever swore, so hearing it from him spoke volumes about how much he liked what he saw.

"So I take it you like it?" Y/N arched a brow, resting her arms on his shoulders.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Spencer stammered, looking up with wide eyes as Y/N climbed into his lap.

Y/N settled into his lap with a coy grin, reveling in the feeling of his hands coming up to grip her waist. She leaned in, brushing her nose lightly against his before softly grazing her lips across his.

"I wanted to show you my appreciation..." Y/N whispered, placing a brief but tender kiss on his lips before trailing kisses along his jawline. "...for giving me the best Christmas ever."

Spencer blinked hazily, her words taking a second to process in his mind as the sensation of her lips now sucking a mark into his skin became the center of his focus. His grip on her waist tightened imperceptibly as his fingers flexed against her warm skin. He swallowed hard before finally mustering up an answer.

"Y-you don't have to thank me, baby. All I ever want to do is make you the happiest you've ever been—"

Spencer's words came out as a squeak as she rocked her hips once against the erection now straining in his slacks. His head fell back onto the couch with a soft thump, a quiet whimper slipping from his lips at the friction. The scent of her perfume enveloped him, a fragrant haze that clouded his thoughts and left him feeling lightheaded, as if he were drowning in its sweetness.

The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, the sight of his dilated pupils stirring more in her than she was willing to admit. Y/N smirked, repeating the motion to hear the soft noise fall from his lips once more. She lifted a finger to his lips, shushing him before she moved to kneel between his legs.

"I want to, Spence. Please?"

Spencer nodded so vigorously it almost looked painful, his wide eyes locked on hers in stunned disbelief. He couldn't believe this was real... that he not only had her to begin with but that she was on her knees begging to make him feel good. The breath rushed from his body as her fingers trailed up his thighs to the button of his slacks, popping it open while she kept her hungry gaze on his.

His body trembled in anticipation as Y/N dragged the fabric down his legs, tugging them off once they reached his feet and casting them off to the side. He whined as she leaned forward to mouth over his aching cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, his fingers twitching from where they rested beside himself. His breath hitched in his throat as she dragged her nails down the inside of his thighs, a smug grin on her face as she watched him dig his nails into his palms.

Y/N decided she'd teased him enough, placing a kiss on his hipbone before swiftly removing his boxers. Spencer's hips lifted from the couch, jerking toward her mouth instinctively as she wasted no time in leaning forward to lick a thick stripe up the side of him before taking his swollen head between her lips.

"Oh—" Spencer gasped, his eyes struggling to stay open as he watched her begin to swallow his length. "Oh my God, Y/N—"

Y/N smirked around her mouthful, taking him as far into her throat as she could before wrapping a hand around what couldn't fit. She began to bob her head slowly, easing him into the sensation. The feeling of him—hot and hard and filling her mouth so perfectly—had her squeezing her thighs together as she began to move more vigorously.

Spencer writhed beneath her as her mouth and hand began to work in tandem, his eyes fluttering shut despite his efforts to watch her every move so he could burn the sight into his memory for later use. His hips bucked up when she took him into the back of her throat, a guttural groan falling from his open mouth at the gag that emitted from her from the motion. His eyes shot open as he began spewing out apologies, but his words died in his throat as she pulled off of him to shake her head vehemently.

"Do it again," Y/N croaked, taking him back into her mouth and reaching up to guide his hands to her head.

Spencer whimpered pitifully, exhaling sharply before tentatively repeating the motion. His heart nearly fell out of his ass when Y/N moaned around him, encouraging him to keep going. His hips thrust rapidly into her mouth, his eyes squeezed shut now as moan after moan spilled from his lips.

"I-I'm close— sweetheart, please," Spencer groaned, lights flashing behind his eyes as she all but sucked the soul from his body. "Can I— Can I fuck you? Please? Wanna make you feel good, too."

Y/N moaned loudly around him at that, pulling off of him with a slick 'pop' before nodding vigorously. She was drenched, the sounds Spencer made having turned her on more than most men had in the past with their entire bodies. She hurriedly climbed into his lap, not even bothering to take her panties off and instead pulling the fabric to the side as she lined him up at her entrance.

They'd previously agreed that since they were both clean and she was on birth control they'd skip using a condom. They just never had the chance to actually get on with it... until now, anyway.

The sight of her swollen lips and watery eyes had Spencer captivated as his hands automatically found their home on her thighs, rubbing gently as she eased herself down onto him. If someone had told him six months ago that he'd ever be lucky enough to experience this—having the most beautiful woman he'd ever met as his, riding his cock like she was made for it—he would have laughed in their face. But now, all he could do was sit back and watch her in awe as she took every last inch of him into her core, speechless as he marveled at the sight. His brows pinched together as her walls enveloped him, his mouth gaping open as she bottomed out with a loud moan.

Y/N's head tipped back as a moan wrenched its way from her throat, her hips moving in small circles as she adjusted to the stretch of him inside of her pussy. She had never felt so desperate for someone before, but she wasn't surprised. It was Spencer—the man she admired more than anyone. The man who treated her like she was everything, simply for being herself. The man who reminded her every day that she was worth more than she’d ever believed.

Neither one of them was going to last long, a realization they both came to as she lifted her hips and dropped them down into his lap as she began to ride his cock. But that was okay. They had all night to make each other feel good.

“How does that feel, sweet boy? Hm?” Y/N panted, falling forward to rest her face in the crook of his neck as she rocked against him with frantic, needy movements.

All Spencer could do was whine loudly as he clung to her, planting his feet on the ground and moving his hands to cradle her back as he began to rut up into her. He was borderline delirious with pleasure, the feeling of her walls clenching around him driving him mad with the need to make her fall apart in his arms. The movement served to drive him repeatedly into her G-spot, the both of them crying out and latching to each other as Y/N trembled above him.

"So good," Spencer finally grunted, moving his hands up to hastily unwrap the bow restricting his access to her breasts. His lips latched onto her right nipple, sucking and nibbling as his hand came up to pinch her neglected bud. "You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart." He mumbled against her skin, laving over the pert bud and groaning.

Y/N cried out, her hands tangling into his hair as she rode him harder. It was almost feral the way they moved together, needing each other in a way words couldn't describe. The couch creaked beneath their movements, but she couldn't care less. She only cared about making the man underneath her feel the best he ever had.

Her walls began to clench around him as she whimpered into his shoulder, signaling her impending climax. Spencer slid a hand down from her breast to instead rub at her clit, lifting his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. It only took a few circles of his skilled fingers before Y/N was chanting his name into his mouth like a prayer, her eyes squeezed shut as she came hard around him. Spencer's orgasm was almost simultaneous with hers, the sensation of her walls squeezing his cock triggering his climax almost violently as he pumped into her with soft sobs.

Their chests heaved as they slumped against each other, caressing each other with gentle touches as they caught their breath. Once Y/N could sit up, she lifted off of his softening cock with trembling legs, a giggle spilling from her lips as he whined in discontent. She placed a lingering kiss on his lips, effectively shushing him before she stood from the couch to go get a rag.

When she came back, Spencer reached for her with needy hands, wanting to feel her against him once more. They tended to each other with soft murmurs of praise and gentle kisses, their love unspoken but evident in every touch and gesture. Once they were cleaned (and Spencer had all but shoved her toward the bathroom so she could pee to avoid getting a UTI), they stumbled into her bedroom and into her bed.

It was in Spencer's arms, as he drifted off to sleep, that Y/N finally understood just how special the holidays could be—made all the more meaningful by the sweet genius she was fortunate enough to call hers.

REMINDER: I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[why-are-you-still-awake]

Naruto boys with a partner with anxiety

A/n: two posts in less than 24 hours!?

characters: Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara

Warning/content: mentions of panic attacks, mentions of contamination OCD.

Naruto Uzumaki

☆ Naruto would definitely be more cautious with his partner because he wouldn’t want to upset them or cause them to overthink things he’s done or said, most things he does have no rhyme or reason. However if you start overthinking something he said he’ll happily explain it and give you all the reassurance you need. ☆

☆ He doesn’t want to put you in a situation that would make your anxiety worse, for example if you don’t like public or crowded places, he’d go out of his way to make sure no one touches you or gets too close and if you need some space to calm down he’d take you to a less busy area. ☆

☆ The first time he saw you have a panic attack, he kinda panicked himself and was unsure of what to do. He’s had panic attacks himself but you’re not him, so he just awkwardly kneeled down to your level and gently rubbed your back, helping you take deep breaths. He always wants you to be comfortable and feel safe with him. ☆

Sasuke Uchiha

☆ You never liked germs, the thought of getting sick made your skin crawl, you’d always been told it really wasn’t that serious but to you it was. You had to always wash your hands before touching anything and wash them after, there have been times when you scrubbed your hands red. It was more than just the hand washing though, it was having to immediately change if someone touched your clothes. ☆

☆ Sasuke never really noticed your obsessive behavior until you moved in together, he noticed how you religiously washed your hands and cleaned everything single thing you touched, at first he thought you were just a clean freak until he saw how red your hands would be after every time you washed them. He didn’t want to bring it up but he finally decided enough was enough when your hands bled from the extreme washing. ☆

☆ There have definitely been times when you weren’t able to wash your hands and it made you panic, you were rubbing your hands together to try and get the same feeling you get from washing your hands but it wasn’t enough. You practically curled in on yourself trying to stay calm but it was no use, Sasuke noticed your behavior and carefully placed his hand on your back, not wanting to trigger you further. He opened his backpack and had hand sanitizer and gave you some, he’d started carrying it just in case something like this ever happened. Not that he’d ever admit it. ☆

Gaara

☆ He truly tries his best to avoid putting you in situations that’ll cause you to be anxious or cause a panic attack but sometimes it just doesn’t work out that way, as the kazekage he has to attend a lot of meetings that have lots of people in attendance as well so it’s often overcrowded and overstimulating. You know these type of events make you anxious but you decide to grin and bear it for your boyfriends sake. ☆

☆ When you inevitably get overwhelmed at these type of things he keeps you close to him because come hell or high water he won’t leave you alone if you start feeling like that. He’d do the small things like keeping a firm grip on your hand to make you feel safer and more secure or placing his hand on the small of your back so you don’t get separated. ☆

☆ He’s seen you have panic attacks before and it makes his heart ache every time, he doesn’t want you to feel alone during times like this but sometimes he understands that’s just what you need, time to decompress and calm down yourself. Even if it hurts to step away for a few moments he’ll do whatever he needs to help even if he’s not directly involved.☆

A/n: i hate these sm, I might just delete it later but I hope you enjoyed them. I have OCD myself but not contamination OCD specifically, so tell me if it’s not portrayed correctly. Thank you for reading, love u <33

Do not repost

[ask-kado-thorne]

*A lot had happened since the last time they were together, but at the same time, nothing between them: Asides from certain small inevitable interactions, Nolan had been actively avoiding Kado, luckily for him, the vampire hadn't tried to reach out to him either, just as he wanted. But, at certain point, he felt lonely. Having a best friend was a quite strange concept for him, he was still getting used to the other man, and staying away from him wasn't helping at all. And, on top of that, he was feeling alone. A cold breeze made him remind Kado's words: Winter was coming, and he'd have no one to warm him up. And Nolan was willing to be the guy that would warm him a bit.*

*After hesitating for a moment, a long one, typing and deleting messages he could send to Kado, he ended up with the right one to get his attention*

Hey :)

@nolan-chance-fortnite

(After leaving Nolan's house in a hurry, Kado arrived at his estate, feeling sick from low iron levels, and frustrated with how things had turned out.)

(He spent most of that day in his room, watching TV, playing games, anything to take his mind off of the events from that morning.)

(But that did little to stop the pain in his heart. It seemed like every time he and Nolan got closer, they became distant right after.)

Why do I even bother?

(Kado said to himself as he laid in bed that night, turned to the side and looking at the empty spot beside him.)

He'll never care for me the same way.

(He grabbed an extra pillow and hugged it tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(Kado was used to heartbreak. It had happened too many times to count in his long life. But there was nothing worse than falling for a close friend. It hurt so much more when they didn't love you back.)

(He never called or texted Nolan since their last meeting, though he did check his social media. For awhile, he merely looked at his posts, never reblogging or commenting. But eventually, he started leaving likes on the silly things Nolan would share.)

(Kado finally began to cheer up, enjoying the stupid jokes his friend was known for. The incident between them was never brought up, and still no other form of interaction took place.)

(Until a month later, when Kado was in his room one night. This time, he wasn't alone, and when the screen on his phone lit up, he hadn't noticed it himself. But his guest, who was facing the nightstand, had seen it.)

Hey, you've got a text.

Oh?

(Kado's arms were around this other person, so he let go and reached over to pick up the phone. Not expecting anything important, his eyes widened when he saw a message from the last person he expected.)

(He quickly set the phone back on the nightstand, leaving the text unanswered.)

What's wrong? Is it bad news?

No no, just one of those dumb scams trying to steal your information.

You've gotta be careful with those. One wrong click and your entire fortune could disappear.

(Kado chuckled, kissing his companion on the cheek as he held him once again.)

I'm not letting anyone steal from me. Go back to sleep, darling.

[milkywayhou]

"One step backward. Two steps forward"

Summary: “호랑이🐱: Congrats to the happy couple! @Hans839 I’m sure you’ll take good care of our Snow.”

Or

Snow make one silly post and it accidentally blew up.

TWs: Nothing. Just some weird stuff.

Words Count: 900+ words (Not really much)

It was meant as a harmless joke – Snow never dreamed it would cause such a stir. It all started when she took a rare week off to help a friend with their photography project. Trying on various elegant gowns was good wholesome fun – at least until she impulsively snapped a selfie in her favorite flowing white gown with some vague caption about “Feeling nervous for the big day”

Her post were blowing up with congratulatory messages, assuming the gown meant something more significant. Snow laughed it off, replying with bubbles and clown emojis.

Suddenly she noticed a new tag in one of the comments from a certain Korean operator, Horangi.

“호랑이🐱: Congrats to the happy couple! @Hans839 I’m sure you’ll take good care of our Snow.”

Squinting in confusion, she clicked to see who this “Hans” person was that he had tagged – only to realize that the account was set private.

Then Snow nearly dropped her phone in horror when Horangi’s congrats and mysterious tag unleashed a torrent of notifications – their colleagues from KorTac flooding her post, assuming the worst.

Her blood ran cold.

Even some higher-ups Snow barely knew chimed in with off-color jokes. Great, now she’d given the crotchety old Admirals yet another reason to gossip about her love life.

Holy shit, was this some practical joke? Snow wracked her brain trying to connect the dots as more congratulatory messages poured in.

All at once, things clicked into place. Hans must be a high rank man on their base. And knowing Horangi’s mischievous streak, he had purposefully tagged the him just to stir up trouble. Judge by his name this Hans dude was probably a German person, and she was aware of the fact their Colonel is a German.

Fuck

It was König.

As in, her commanding colonel at KorTac, König. The scary, stoic commander she’d only ever patched up in medbay. Faceless weirdo who’d never said more than four words to her but ALWAYS stared so intensely she swore he hated her guts. Snow had no idea he even had social media, much less that his profile was connected to his real name! What was Horangi thinking?

There was only one thing to do – delete the evidence and face the heat wave of embarrassment back at base. But when Snow pulled up the post, she froze again when she noticed more senior commanders had already congratulated her! Deleting it meant the possibility of loosing her face on her workplace!

That day, Snow was mortified hurrying back to base, ready to hide in the weapon lockers for a year and came back later like nothing happens, praying and hoping everyone will forget about her silly post that created these misunderstanding if she suddenly show up one day with a big smile and say “Oh, no, That post is just a joke hahah. And no, I don’t marry the colonel. It was Horangi’s idea haha..” Oh how she wish it was easier like that. Pretty sure it wouldn’t end too well.

“Soooo, when’s the big day? I call being best man.” Snow’s panic must have showed, because Horangi chose that moment to saunter over with a shit-eating grin.

“Horangi I swear to God, you and I are gonna have words-“

“Oh, by the way Colonel König wants to see you, Snow. Good luck…” And with that he leaves doing only God knows what while humming something that sound similar with ‘Here Comes The Bride’, leaving Snow shuddered to imagine König’s reaction, quietly seething behind his closed office door no doubt.

She was so screwed.

How could she face him now without dying of mortification?

Steeling her nerves, Snow marched over and gave a tentative knock. At his gruff “Enter,” she slipped inside, bracing for the inevitable eruption. Instead she found König leaning back casually in his chair, staring at her with an amused glint that somehow wasn’t comforting at all.

“So Schatz , care to explain this intriguing post I saw over your break?”

Snow spluttered helplessly, launching into a garbled excuse about costumes and photoshoot as König watched with growing amusement. Finally he cut her off, standing to slowly circle her desk until she was caged between his arms.

“I see. Well since we’re apparently already engaged…” His predatory tone sent a shiver down her spine. “…We may as well have some fun with it, ja?” That’s when Snow knew she was absolutely fucked when she felt the cold feeling of metal on her ring finger. She sighed before replied back, fighting a smile of her own while mentally plotting Horangi’s demise.

“Of course, Sir”

=====

At the base, König went about his duties as usual. But come evening when things quieted, old habit drew him to Snow’s profile like a moth to flame when she was away from him. What he found made his breath catch.

There she was, his beautiful Schatz, beaming radiantly in white satin. Before reason could intervene, König double tapped to like the photo, mouth curving up at the image he hoped to see for real someday.

Unfortunately one certain meddlesome comrade had been watching too, ready to seize any opportunity. Not long after, a notification popped up on König’s phone – Horangi had tagged him in a comment on Snow’s post, congratulating them both excitedly.

On the one hand, he knew Snow too well, It was undoubtedly just an innocent tease on her part. But on the other hand, the thought of another man putting that gown on her, claiming HER as their wife... Makes König saw red. At that moment strange knot formed in his stomach as he studied the photo more closely than proper.

And then, an idea took hold that he might be able to use this amusing misunderstanding to his advantage…

=======

Phewww. I just done write this one a few weeks ago. Don't worry, I'll continue the other fic later but don't know when, since my right ear is getting worse and I might go seek medical treatment.

Also Love, Reblogged and Comment will be really appreciated!

[captainstressed]

so ive been working on a post-breakup bucktommy fix it for a hot minute and she's almost finished so i wanted to share the first chapter here before i put the entire thing on ao3.

its starts from the 'tommy's bubbling me' scene from 8x07 except its from tommy's pov. its mostly hurt but i swear the comfort is coming!

title: i love you, im sorry. word count: 1341 chapter: 1 of 2/3

Tommy hit backspace, deleting the drafted text he’d written to Evan with a sigh. Dropping his phone beside him on the couch, he reached out to grab the open bottle of beer from the coffee table and took a long swig. It wasn’t far off three in the afternoon but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to particularly care; he’d come off shift within the last hour and wasn’t scheduled back in until the next day, it also wasn’t as though he was planning to have more than one or two. He needed a distraction, something to temporarily cloud his mind that wasn’t Evan. Buck. He’d lost the right to use his given name the day he walked out of his loft.

It had been just over two weeks since the break up; fifteen days if he was counting, which he was. He had ran the conversation over in his mind an infinite number of times since then and each time he hated himself a little bit more.

“Did you just break up with me?”

“Yeah. I guess I did.”

He slammed the bottle back down on the table with more force than necessary. He was a fucking coward. He’d been a coward back when he was at the 118 and he failed to stand up for Hen and Howie against Gerrard; Tommy had been battling his own internal demons but that didn’t excuse his behaviour then and it sure as hell doesn’t now.

He had told Buck that if they ended up moving in together, then the younger man would end up breaking his heart; something that he wasn’t sure he would be able to move on from. The irony of it all was that through his own cowardice actions, Tommy had beat him to it and succeeded in breaking it all by himself.

Bringing his hands up, he pressed the heals of his palms into his eyes. He felt the sting of tears and took a breath, willing them to remain at bay. He had no right to cry, not when this was all his fault. He had broken up with Buck; had panicked at the thought of moving in with him. Not because he didn’t want to, but because when his heart was inevitably broken, the fallout would have been too much for him to fathom.

Tommy wondered if this imaginary scenario would have left him feeling anything like the way he felt right now. His palms were wet, the stars dancing behind his eyes the only outcome of his efforts. Swiping the tears that were only replaced by more a moment later, he wiped his hands across his jean clad thighs and tipped his head back against the back of his couch.

His fingers itched to grab his phone; he wanted to call Buck, apologise for being such a coward, for joining the list of people who had walked away from him and beg him for another chance. It was selfish, he was selfish.

He didn’t deserve Buck; Hadn’t been deserving of being his first relationship since discovering his true identity. Buck had trusted him, had let Tommy in. The two of them shared words and experiences that were completely new to Buck and it made Tommy feel sick that he had taken these things from him, with the promise of protecting them and him only to run when his own insecurities got in the way.

Curling his hand into a fist, he bought it down on the cushion beside him. The movement jostled his phone and lit up his home screen; his background was a picture of an LA sunrise, which to anyone else wouldn’t seem particularly special but to Tommy it held precious memory.

It had been taken a few months prior during one of his early morning runs, by Evan. Tommy had mentioned to him that one of his go to’s for winding down after particularly gruelling shifts was to hit one of the many hiking trails and if he was lucky enough to finish a shift before the day had officially started, then he could sometimes catch the sunrise. It was a way to remind himself that in spite of the often tragic calls he dealt with whilst at work, a new day was just on the horizon and with it the renewal of hope and possibility of brighter times to come.

He’d thought the idea was beautiful and asked if he could accompany Tommy sometime should their shifts lineup. They ended up going one morning after Tommy had finished a forty-eight and Evan was due to start his own a few hours later. They’d found a perfect spot to watch the sunrise and paused their run to drink it in. Evan had taken a picture just as the sun was peaking over the horizon, setting it as his phone background and almost shyly explaining to Tommy that this way whenever he looked at his phone it would remind him of not only the reason behind it but also of Tommy.

It had been one of the many times in which Tommy had wondered how he got so lucky as to find someone as adorable as Evan. He’d even asked him as much, which earned him a blushed smile that Tommy couldn’t help but kiss off his lips. Before asking him to send him a copy of the photo and setting it as his own background too.

Tommy could have changed it in weeks since the break up, probably should have done if he’d had any desire to move on. He wondered if Evan had changed his; selfishly he hoped he hadn’t.

He stared at his phone until the screen went back to black, mulling over his scattered thoughts before picking it up and unlocking it. It reopened back onto his text thread with Evan, they hadn’t spoken to each other via text since Howie’s wedding and the memories of that day and night settled heavily in the pit of his stomach when he compared how he had felt then to how he felt now.

His thumb hovered over the bubble to start a new message; Tommy knew what he wanted to say, what he’d wanted to tell Evan even before they broke up. He had never called his own feelings towards Evan into question, self hatred threatened to bubble to the surface once more when he reminded himself that the only person he had called into question was Evan himself.

Evan who had never been anything but open and honest with Tommy from the start of their relationship. Sure, he’d put his foot in his mouth a few times at the start and sometimes he got a little ahead of himself, but it was one of the many things Tommy loved about him.

Tommy loved him. Loves him.

But he let him go because he’s a coward.

With a sigh, he tapped the bubble to send a new message but paused. After weeks of radio silence Tommy knew it wouldn’t be fair to drops these heavy feelings on Evan straight away. If at all a voice in his head snarked. What if he was too late? What if Tommy ending things had been the wake up call Evan needed to realise that though Tommy had been his first, he didn’t want him to be his last and these last weeks had just helped cement those feelings.

The thought caused him physical pain. His entire reasoning behind breaking up with Evan in the first place had been to shield his heart from inevitable break, but it had quickly become apparent that he was destined for this fate regardless. He couldn’t allow himself to consider that Evan loved him back. He hadn’t deserved it before the break up and he sure as hell didn’t now. The difference now however was that he felt as though he had nothing else to lose, and he owed Evan the truth no matter what the outcome may be.

Fuck it.

“Can we talk?”

Tommy held his breath and hit send.

[holdinggrudges]

the chain - chiquitita (SNEAK PEAK)

start from the beginning

content: supernatural rewrite; canon-typical violence. rated MA. CHAPTER SNEAK PEAK! this is not the full third chapter!

word count: 3.6k

summary: After what happened in the woods at Blackwater Ridge (and in the motel room the next night), you're left with more questions and still no answers. John, of course, is still no where to be found.

notes: heyy guys! so...here's the thing. i wanted to post something for sam's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BEAUTIFUL PRINCESS, BTW) but this chapter is pretty much the only thing i've been working on for...weeks. and it's still just a bit shy of being done (more like 10k words off but yk. semantics), so i've decided that in honor of sam, and because it's been *checks notes* almost six months (jfc) since i posted a chapter, i'd give a little tumblr exclusive sneak peak at the first two present day scenes in this chapter. this is first draft content, although my first drafts are more like one and a half drafts with all the editing they go through during the writing process, so once the chapter is posted, these scenes might be adjusted slightly, but will probably be largely the same. i'll probably delete this post once the full chapter is posted (unless i forget. which i might. lol), but for now, i hope this satiates any starving appetites. as always, @cafekitsune for dividers <3

Eagle County, Colorado — 2005

The blood won’t come out of your shirt, no matter how long you stand there scrubbing at it under the sink. Still, you stand for another twenty minutes, scrubbing with the pain and the threat you’d been left with echoing in your head until the water runs cold and your fingers start to prune. 

Do not forget you are alive only because we allow it. 

What kind of guardian is this thing? Because right now, the only threat you can think of is this so-called guardian. So what, exactly, is it supposed to be protecting you from, and what the hell does Sam have to do with any of it? It doesn’t make any sense, and you’re a little bit irritated that you went through all this trouble just to end up more confused than you were before.

You shove your ruined (and, now, soaking wet) shirt in one of the plastic laundry bags in the motel closet and then tuck it at the bottom of your bag, underneath the rest of your clothes. You’ll toss it later somewhere less conspicuous, somewhere where the bloody shirt won’t be tied to your name and bank account. 

The sun is starting to creep over the horizon as you head back to your actual hotel room. You’re so distracted rubbing a hand over your neck, trying to make sure you didn’t miss any of the blood when you were cleaning up, that you don’t notice someone else walking up to the door until you’re nearly running smack into Sam. “Jesus—sorry, Sam.” You take a step back to let him go in first, praying he’ll give you some grace and not press you on where you’ve been. 

Sam looks down at you, one hand perched on his hip like a disappointed mother. “Mornin’. Where’ve you been?” Of course, why would your prayers get answered? He narrows his eyes where he’s looking down at you, like he’s already expecting you to lie, which you don’t really think is very fair. Sure, you were a little omissive at first, but you already told him everything you know about what’s going on with you. You really don’t think you deserve this kind of mistrust. 

You rub your fists against your eyes. You’re tired. Tired and confused and your head is pounding, and yes, of course, you need to tell Sam, and soon, probably. It’s—quite literally—painfully obvious now that this whole thing has something to do with him. But right now, the only thing you want to do is go inside and get as much sleep as you can before Dean wakes up and inevitably drags your little group to some diner or another to eat a greasy ass breakfast before hitting the road. 

Still, the idea that he really thinks you don’t trust him doesn’t sit right, like a rift in the very fabric of the universe. As if there’s a world where he’s not at the very top of that list—you need to set it right. “I rented a room. For a seance,” you tell him, gesturing in the direction of said room like it matters where it was. 

“For a—Jesus Christ,” he mutters, his brows pulling in, and then he ducks down a little to look you over. Which you probably should’ve expected, you suppose, as he tilts your head from side to side with a hand on your face. “You summoned that thing? Alone? After what it did in the forest?” 

You wave him off, and then you roll your eyes when he only sort of backs off, still crowded into your space even if he’s not physically fussing anymore. “I’m fine—” you insist— “except for the fuckin’ headache. And I didn’t exactly summon it.” If you had, you could’ve bent it to your will as easily as breathing. Seances are extremely controlled when you do them right. It certainly should not have been able to make you bleed. “I did everything right. But that thing was only there because it wanted to be.” 

Sam’s brows shoot up at this. “So you did talk to it?” he asks, clarifying. When you nod, he continues, “Okay, so- so what happened? What did it say?” 

You don’t get a chance to tell him. The door beside you creaks open, and, like you’ve trained yourself to do for a decade, you react in an instant, hackles raised and hand poised on the handle of your knife. Sam, who four years ago would’ve been right there with you, doesn’t reach for his gun. You’re not sure he even has one on him. It doesn’t matter, in the end. It’s only Dean on the other side of the door, and you let yourself relax.

“Woah, early birds,” Dean greets, eyes flicking between you and Sam for a moment before he asks, “Am I, uh…interrupting something?” 

You take a step back, and realize then how close the two of you really had been standing. “No. Just…couldn’t sleep, ran into Sam coming in from a walk,” you lie, offering Dean a half-hearted smile to seal the deal. You don’t have to look at Sam to know he’ll follow your lead on this one—this is your…mess, your problem, and if you don’t want Dean to know, Sam’s not going to tell him. Even if he does shoot you a weird look about it. 

“Yep,” he says, with all the conviction of someone who was absolutely not just on a walk. You cut your eyes at him, and he just shrugs, gives you the same smile you’d given Dean. “Just coming back from a walk.” 

Dean stares at the two of you for a moment longer before shaking his head and turning around to walk back into the motel. “You know what, it’s too early for whatever the hell is going on with you two right now. Come on, get your shit.” You follow him into the room in time to see him shoving yesterday’s clothes into his duffel bag. “I’m fuckin’ starving. Told y’all we should’ve gotten something to eat before we stopped for the night.” 

Well. There goes your nap. You sigh, taking your own duffel past Dean towards the bathroom. “Give me half an hour to take a shower.” If you can’t sleep this headache off, you can at least try to wash the echoes of blood off your skin. 

Something smacks you in the back of the head, and you whip around to find a pillow on the ground behind you and Dean snickering across the room. Even Sam cracks a smile, though he turns his head quick to try to hide it. Boys. “Twenty minutes or I’m leaving you here. Hurry up, princess.” 

You roll your eyes and slam the bathroom door behind you, though not before flipping Dean the bird. And you take an extra ten minutes in the shower, just to piss him off. 

Dean must’ve had his eye on this diner since the drive last night because he doesn’t even pretend to waste a second driving around looking for one, just beelines it straight for The Lynnwood. If you’re being honest, you’re grateful for it. Between the exhaustion and the fear and the blood, you’d almost forgotten that your body needs food to function. You tear up your breakfast almost the second the plate is sat down in front of you, suddenly ravenous as soon as the food is in your sights. 

Unfortunately, you only get about five minutes of eating in peace before Sam’s hand on your shoulder practically drags you out of your chair. “We’re getting a coffee refill,” he announces as he pulls you towards the counter, ignoring your halfhearted protest about not even having a coffee. 

Once the two of you are close enough to the coffee pot for it to be believable, Sam turns towards you, face expectant like he assumes you’re going to just know what in the hell he dragged you over here for. And you do, of course, but if he wants to know about your seance, he’s going to have to ask nicely. 

“What?” you ask, staring right back at him. “Do I have something on my face, or…?” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “What happened with the seance, smartass?” 

Hmm. Good enough, you suppose. “Like I said, it was barely a seance. I don’t think whatever I was doing was affecting it at all. I mean, it—” You glance behind you, at the patrons of the diner sitting just a little too close for comfort. Not exactly an ideal place to talk about this, but…it’s not like you have much of another choice. You lean in a little closer and lower your voice. “It tore my scar open, like…seriously, choking on blood, literally cutthroat type violence. If it was there under my volition, it shouldn’t have even been able to touch me, much less anything like that.” 

“What?” Sam asks, loud enough to catch the attention of half the damn room. You shoot him a look, and he huffs, but he does lower his voice again. “You said you were fine. What the hell?” 

You shrug, feeling just a little bit chastised when he looks at you like that, all irritation and quiet concern. “Yeah. I mean, fine now. Not bleeding anymore, am I?” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “You should’ve… you shouldn’t have done that alone,” he says after a beat, reaching out to nudge your shoulder. What’s done is done. “Did it say anything to you, or just try to kill your dumb ass?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t think it was trying to kill me. Just trying to scare me, ‘cause I…that’s not really important, actually. Look, it said it was a ‘guardian,’ wouldn’t tell me what it was other than that. But I don’t think it would try to kill me. I’m actually pretty sure it’s saved me a couple times.” 

Sam frowns. “What do you mean?” 

You tap the base of your neck, the scar there that just seems to keep coming up. “I shouldn’t have survived this,” you tell him. “I mean, most adults wouldn’t survive that, but a nine year old? No shot. I should be dead, but I’m not. And I should’ve hit the rocks when Constance threw me off the bridge—I think we all expected I would, but I didn’t. Something caught me. The very same something, I assume, that helped us in the woods. This thing keeps saving my life.” 

“Okay, so…why you?” Sam asks, brows furrowed the same way they get looking at a math problem. Like he’s solving a puzzle, trying to fit the pieces together. 

You don’t remember every exact word the guardian said, but the important parts…those, you can recall pretty clearly. “It kept saying the end was near, and I’m supposed to stop it or…something. ‘Save the boy, stop the end,’ that’s what it said. So I guess that’s why me.” 

“The boy?” he echoes, just the same as you had, surrounded by candles. The words sound like pain, like an icepick straight through your brain. 

“You,” you say simply, remembering flashing projections, the image of a nursery that you’ve never once seen. You tell him exactly what the guardian showed you—what you can remember between the pounding headache, anyway. “Apparently, you need tempering. And I am highly favored.” 

Sam’s posture snaps straight, his brows raising, like a dog hearing his favorite word. Ears perked up and stood at attention. “Highly favored? Was—This thing said that?” 

“Yeah,” you say slowly, confused by his sudden excitement. Clearly, something about the words caught his attention, though you can’t figure out what. “And then it cut my throat open, so I’m not exactly inclined to believe it.” 

Sam shakes his head, waving off your comment. “No, I mean—I just—that’s biblical. It’s Gabriel to Mary; you know, ‘Blessed art thou amongst women.’” 

“Uh. No, Father, I don’t know,” you shoot back, almost less shocked by the words themselves than the concept of them coming out of Sam’s mouth. Since when can he quote scripture? “Not to burst your bubble here, but I am certainly not the right girl for the whole…virgin Mary shtick.” 

“Maybe,” Sam mutters, like he’s not quite convinced. And you have to admit, it does make sense, in a roundabout sort of way. Not the whole ‘Holy Mary, Mother of God’ of it all, but rather the holier-than-thou, ‘vast beyond your mortal comprehension’ thing. Still, even if that stuff was real—and you’re not sure you buy into all that, anyway—why would God be interested in you? Like you said, you’re certainly not blessed amongst women, or whatever Sam said. No, more likely, you’ve got some obscure, freaky creature with a god complex tailing you, toying with you. Even if you’ve never heard of anything that could do stuff like this.  “Maybe we should ask Dean what he thinks.” 

You consider the suggestion for all of a second before you shake your head. “No. No, I don’t think it would do any good. What’s he gonna be able to do except for…worry?” And privately, maybe selfishly, you don’t want to tell Dean, don’t want to see the suspicion that he’ll try to hide, but not well enough. The trepidation. You didn’t have much of a choice in telling Sam, but the two of you have always been freaks together, anyway. Dean’s different. Dean’s…not normal, exactly, but maybe the closest any one of you could get to it. He just doesn’t get it. And as long as he doesn’t know, he can’t look at you differently. “We should wait until we know more. I don’t know. Maybe John will know something about it, when we finally catch up to him.” Not that you really prefer the idea of telling John about all this, but…well, you care much less about what he thinks about you. 

“So what happens when something like what happened in the woods happens in front of Dean between here and there?” 

You hate when he makes good points. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, won’t we?” you say, clapping him on the shoulder before making your way back to the table, where you see Dean surrounded by newspapers that he must’ve grabbed from the lobby of the motel. Just glancing at them, they seem to be from all over the country, and when you grab one from the stack—ignoring the inquiring look Dean sends you, seeing as you clearly have no coffee refill in your hands and you were gone too long for that to be believable anyway—you find it open to the obituaries, many of the photos scribbled out with just a few of them left untouched, sections of the text underneath them underlined or circled. 

A waitress approaches as you sit, newspaper in hand, but she’s not looking at you. You see her eyes trained on Dean, in his leather jacket with the end of his pen between his teeth, and you’re already rolling your eyes even before she leans over the table and Dean grins like a cat that got the cream. 

The waitress—Wendy, her nametag reads, pinned on the neckline of her low-cut shirt, though you’re nearly 100% sure that Dean’s not looking at her nametag right now—smiles, and you can practically see the gears turning in Dean’s head already, searching for his best line. “Can I get you anything else?” she says, walking directly into it. 

Sam’s arrival as he pulls his chair back saves you from whatever cheesy bullshit is about to come out of Dean’s mouth. “Just the check, please,” he tells her, and you’re so happy he’s there you could kiss him. 

Dean ducks his head as Wendy walks away, and you shoot Sam a thumbs up over him before he recovers enough to glare at him, which means you get to watch Sam fight off a laugh while Dean complains. 

“You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while,” he snarks, turning fully sideways in his seat just to really get his point across. You and Sam’s eyes meet over Dean’s shoulder, and Sam’s lips pursing while he tries not to laugh has you ducking your head and muffling your own huff of laughter behind your hand. “That’s fun.” 

“Uh-huh,” you chime in, “I’m sure your little girlfriend will be back with the check soon, hun. I bet you can ask her if she wants to have a playdate then.” 

Sam snorts.

Dean turns his glare on you before letting out a resigned sigh, tossing the newspaper he’d been writing on most recently into the center of the table. “You know what, whatever. Take a look at this, I think I got one.” 

You lean over the table—almost mirroring Wendy’s pose from before, ironically—to catch a look at the paper, the blue ink of Dean’s pen circled around a picture of a young girl, late teens at the oldest. Your stomach turns just a little, thinking about just how young that really is. 

“Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin,” Dean continues, tapping the photo as you and Sam inspect it from either side of him. “Last week, Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn’t walk out. Authorities dragged the water—nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year, and none of the other bodies were found either.” 

You frown, tugging the paper closer to you to inspect the text. “They put all that in the obituary?” you murmur, honestly a little concerned for this poor family’s pockets. You’re pretty sure these sorts of papers charge per line. 

Dean shrugs, snatching the paper back from your hands. “Getting the word out, I guess. Anyway, they had a funeral two days ago.” 

“A funeral?” Sam echoes, almost incredulous, as if the idea is completely foreign to him. Sure, technically the girl was missing, but she also went missing in the lake. You’re not sure there’s anything more cut and dry than that, as far as missing presumed goes. Although you’re not sure whether the girl is dead or not is what’s actually bothering him. 

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Dean says, tossing the paper back on the table unceremoniously. “They buried an empty coffin. For, uh, ‘closure’ or whatever.” 

Sam scoffs, that tightly-coiled, barely-under-the-surface anger from Blackwater Ridge making itself known again. “What closure? People don’t just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them.” 

And of course that’s what this is about. “Sam…” you caution, hoping to diffuse this particular argument before it starts. It’s not like it’s been weeks. The three of you were following John’s trail not even five days ago. 

“No, the trail for Dad gets colder every day, and Dean wants to go on a field trip to Wisconsin?” Sam complains, grabbing a paper from Dean’s stack just to toss it on the table again. “Dad’s the only one who knows anything about—about anything. What the hell are we looking at obits for?” The only one who knows about the thing that killed Jess, the only one who knows (maybe) about whatever’s going on with you—you understand where Sam’s coming from. But if John wanted to be found, you’d have found him in Blackwater Ridge. The only thing arguing with Dean is going to do is make for an awkward car ride. 

“You know what? I’m sick of this attitude,” Dean snaps, proving your point. “You don’t think I wanna find Dad as much as you do?” 

Sam rolls his eyes and butts in with a— “Yeah, I know you do, it’s just—” but Dean plows on, ignoring the comment. 

“I’m the one who’s been with him every single day for the past four years, while you two have been off reading fortunes and going to pep rallies.” 

“What the fuck did I do?” you mutter, petulant, and lean back in your seat, away from the spat. Somehow, you’re always caught in the middle of this shit, roped into dying on a hill that you’ve never even stood on. 

“We’re going to find Dad,” Dean says, waving off your little protest, which is the closest to an apology you’re going to get, you’re sure. “But until then, we’re going to kill everything bad between here and there.” He grabs the paper with Sarah Carlton’s face on it, tossing it at Sam as though the photo will smack some sense into him. “Okay?” 

Beside you, you see Wendy come up between you and Dean, laying the check down for him. You ignore her and whatever stupid shit Dean is saying to catch Sam’s attention across the table instead. “We could really help these people,” you say, catching sight of the young girl’s smiling face, immortalised in black and white but probably never to be seen again. “Better than sitting around with our thumbs up our asses, right?” 

Sam holds your gaze for a moment longer before shaking his head with a sigh. “Alright. Lake Manitoc.” 

When the two of you turn your attention back to Dean, you find him staring after Wendy as she walks off. You smack his shoulder, drawing him back to Earth. “Huh?” he says dumbly. 

“Dude,” Sam admonishes, nose scrunching in his disgust. “How far?” 

Dean grins, because that’s one question you think he’ll always take as a challenge. “‘Bout 15 hours. But I can make it closer to 12,” he says, shoving back in his chair and tossing a wad of cash on the table. “We’ll make it before the sun goes down. Let’s go.”

[goldensunset]

💎 lokiss

🔁 traumaadcaelum Follow

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💎 lokiss

i think a snickers would’ve fixed baldr tbh

🙅 traumaadcaelum Follow

hi! can you NOT make jokes about the worst massacre that’s happened here in centuries?? my girlfriend was murdered that day but i guess people like you just love taking advantage of tragedies for funny internet clout. i hope you lose your heart in another world.

💎 lokiss

she baldr on my dr until i bald

#get off my post i literally lost someone too

479 notes

💐 my-other-car-is-a-keyblade-glider

my missing brother, brani, is finally back!!!! i’ve been so so worried for forever. thank you everyone who prayed with me 🙏

#he is acting a little weird though if i’m being honest #freya speaks

5 notes

🌸 dandelioneater

🔁 the-fourteenth-original-darkness

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🍎 valkyrie-of-dreams Follow

sometimes i feel like my taste in men is bad and then i remember there are multiple secret societies entirely dedicated to thirsting after master brain

🔑 its-kee-not-kai

you ever see a post that just looks like someone swinging a keyblade at a flappy bugs nest

#kingdom hearts grant me the serenity to not look at the notes #courage to not look at the notes #and wisdom to not look at the notes

56907 notes

🌕 tardyfleetfoot

Asking for a friend what do you do when a cable car stops in midair and starts shaking and swaying on the wire while you’re in there up there way high above the ground? Time sensitive question asking for a friend.

3 notes

🌚 the-fourteenth-original-darkness

🔁 my-other-car-is-a-keyblade-glider

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🧜🏻‍♀️ ieatchesspieces Follow

let’s explore the nearby abandoned towns together!

108500 notes

🔑its-kee-not-kai

🔁 master-odin-retire-challenge

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💍 ladyofsilver-fountains Follow

it’s really awful how people are acting like it’s illegal to have a sense of humor anymore. even in the wake of tragedy, humans have always been humans. plus it’s been almost a year now. life goes on, you know?

👢master-odin-retire-challenge

the context for this post is op lost their job and reputation because they laughed at the funeral of a little girl named vör when the person giving the eulogy couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pronounce her name correctly. please for the love of light stop blindly reblogging things like this.

#oh ewww i hate people

239 notes

🌘 xehanerd

to the anon who just sent that long-winded ask: my blog is my space. if you don’t like what i post then move on.

#xe.post #delete later

0 notes

🌘 xehanerd

🔁 dajokerofscala Follow

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🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

It drives me insane whenever people frame it like Baldr 'succumbing to darkness' and going crazy was inevitable. Sure, darkness played a part in that tragedy, but it completely overlooks the reality of how Master Odin failed to take care of that child at every step of the way. The boy was lost in grief, and the adult who was supposed to take care of him shoved him in an asylum-like room alone? Are we really going to leave that part out in favor of pushing the narrative that people prone to darkness are simply evil at heart? He could have lived a happy life being himself if he had been supported and nurtured. It didn’t have to be this way.

🌕 tardyfleetfoot

Right? We could have saved him from his darkness! He was our friend….

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

That’s… not at all what I was saying, but I suppose a stupid comment like this is to be expected from somebody with ‘darkness dni’ in their bio. Thanks for trying.

🐓 everyoneshutupplease Follow

‘darkness played a part in that tragedy’ not you sugarcoating what happened for the sake of pushing YOUR narrative that the thing that’s been killing people since the dawn of time can possibly be anything but toxic. how many people have to die before people like you get in touch with reality???

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

Sounds about right from someone who went through the Scala Ad Caelum public school system. Have you ever tried reading a book other than what was assigned for class? Please check your natural-light privilege and ignorance. Thanks.

🪐 fenrir-fanatic

look out lads we got another conspiracy theorist ‘homeschool your kids’ dork lmao

🌗 balancewillprevail Follow

And do you read anything other than sigurd x reader fanfiction, based on the first seven posts on your blog?

📈 whats-your-favorite-staircase-to-heaven Follow

the notes on this post were so toxic staff just axed ‘em

#sent to me #thank you joker

0 notes

[freshthoughts2020]

No More Big 3! What's Cole's Next Move?!?!

No More Big 3! What's Cole's Next Move?!?!

July 11, 2024

If you haven’t read my previous article, scroll down on the freshthoughts2020 tab and check it out. In that article, we discussed whether Kendrick’s feud with Drake might be pointless if he doesn’t aim for the commercial number one spot. With a clear task ahead for Kendrick (whether he follows it or not), we’re left to ask: What is Cole’s next move?

I.Cole's Strong Start in 2024

Cole came into 2024 in a great position in the power rankings and was a strong front-runner to take the lead. He outperformed Drake on “First Person Shooter,” went bar to bar with him again on “Evil Ways” from the “Scary Hours Edition of For All The Dogs,” and just completed a successful national tour.

II.The Apology and Its Aftermath

Cole was set to answer the call when he released his “Might Delete Later” EP. However, moments later, his infamous apology came, leading many people to write him off and not wanting to hear from him for a while. Then he reappeared on the bubbling New York sensation Cash Cobain’s track “Grippy,” which has been regarded as one of Cole’s worst verses. The verse wasn’t even bad, but if it wasn’t mind-blowing post-apology, any verse he penned was going to get panned anyway.

III.The Dismantling of the Big 3

The idea of the Big 3 has been dismantled. The world waits on a new K-dot album, ready to crown him as number one, while the Drizzy hive stands patient awaiting Drake’s inevitable return. Again, what is Cole to do?

IV.The Two-Part Plan for Cole's Comeback

I believe Cole has to do two things to ensure a great comeback and even get his name back into that front-runner conversation. We know he’s been hyping up his album The Fall Off, which is in a worse position post-beef. Here’s what he should do to make sure his album isn’t swept under the rug when it drops.

First, Cole has to address Symba. Why Symba? People may have forgotten about that freestyle he did on the “Control” beat, but it needs to be addressed. He sympathized with letting Nas down but went on to say he left Bas and Cozz down, the whole squad down. He slammed him for the apologies. Cole has to address how he didn’t have to clout beef with Kendrick, and most importantly, he has to spank Symba for even thinking he can say that. There are a few angles he can go with, but I probably shouldn’t reveal that. If Cole is capable like I know he is, he should know the angles too. There are plenty of lyricists who will probably make fun of that apology moving forward with general bars, but he needs to make Symba the poster child of what happens when you disrespect Cole.

He needs to do this because Symba has enough lyrical respect from peers and elder statesmen of hip-hop that he’s worth addressing, and because Symba doesn’t threaten Cole in popularity. It’s like Pusha T with Drake. Symba can scorch Cole until he’s blue in the face, but modern rap is a popularity contest, and Cole would never lose that. However, for this to be effective, Cole would have to scorch Symba as if he’s going up against JAY-Z himself—no mercy! If Cole does this, half of the two-part plan to dominance will be secured by everyone taking mental notes: “Maybe we shouldn’t mess with this guy; that apology stuff doesn’t really mean anything.”

The second thing Cole must do is very simple: hits on hits! He has to get into his Forest Hills bag. That’s far from my favorite project from him, but it’s his most commercially successful album, and his sound isn’t compromised! He should re-listen to that album hard while creating The Fall Off and study the singles from Vol. 2... Hard Knock Life. He needs smashes—songs for the radio!

With these two things working in unison, we’ll quickly forget the same people saying they “...never want to hear him again,” “he’s soft,” blah blah, will be the same people saying “oh Cole’s the G.O.A.T., Cole’s the G.O.A.T.”

These are only suggestions, and he can take these suggestions and stuff them up Rubi Rose’s ass for all he cares. But if he still cares and wants to get back in that conversation, he’s got to do something along these lines. It’s not even much, but it’ll be more than enough. Trust!

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[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | This one is different and no doubt would be long but there are important things to address

This midweek we're talking about as Joseph would say, the snakes in our garden(s), or one snake, depending on how willing you're to believe those two people have just met and are so similar, that everything they do is just a big coincidence and not actual blantant stealing of ideas.

I was first faced with the accounts on Novemeber 13th, two follows at once early in the morning, I didn't think much of it, happy I was getting FC5 mutuals in my notifications instead of bots. I followed them back and got on with my day until late that night I began to notice the first patterns of both accounts potentially being run by the same person when their posts began popping up on my dash. There were mistakes, ways of behaving when posting that stood out to me and would no doubt stand out to you as well as you examine all the things I've managed to gather (I won't exactly be pointing out some tells because as far as I can tell they're not aware of them and I refuse to teach them how to scam people better next time). Months back and ever since really I've been dealing with someone I will not be naming in this post, who was consistently targeting my ideas - from stealing paragraphs and inserting them in their fic to moving onto copying smaller things once I caught their sampling, which then escalated to them literally renaming their already established OC into Sabrina once they believed I wasn't paying attention to them anymore.

The same methods I noticed within those accounts, starting with @ladyofedensgate-xo posting a new FC5 OC reveal that evening with Alycia Debnam-Carey, a character by the name of Harper Montgomery (remember that name). After the whole rename thing and suddenly days later being followed by two new similar to each other accounts, one that was out of nowhere picking the exact face claim I have for the leading heroine of my WIP gave me a pause, made me look deeper into the profiles. Both had no prior activity before November, followed the same list of people, a huge chunk of my mutuals and people I would mention in my tag list for games and writing posts. There were multiple things popping out as behaviour, posting and formatting that inevitably led to me blocking both, suspecting the person that had previously stolen from me was making a return under new identity.

Then me and some mutuals got to talking, turns out, this isn't the first time those 'two' people had infiltrated a fandom and began introducing OCs that would resemble other people's or went as far as to copy things from others. Last time they went by @little-wolf-seed and @ladyofedens-blog, claiming they were two sisters and they were being stolen from, only for both to delete their accounts shortly before the new ones debuted. History does repeat, one of the accounts (same @ladyofedensgate-xo) was deactivated by the next day, November 14, only for a new one to emerge immediately, a carbon copy of its predecessor: @angelofdarkness-things. I got a follow from them again, immediately sending them to blocked, while still keeping an eye out for what was happening.

My attention was grabbed by a Pinterest link AngelOfDarkness had in her pinned post, leading to boards upon boards of OCs (I'm taking large numbers) ready to be deployed, potential back-ups if they get caugh and have to start a new. All boards were created at the same time, with two Pinterest profiles only following each other: breannamarie1220 and alexisdawn10206 (Again they'd go as far as to make posts about just now becoming friends and AOD offering to write for Red Queen and how we should all take that offer, cementing the claim they're different people. Now, I ask: have you ever seen two different people, strangers have pretty much the exact same accounts when it comes to appearance?)

I begin looking at each board, frowning at awful casting choices and race swaps of canon characters, only to be faced with multiple names of my own characters being split and shuffled around and multiple of my faceclaims (those they could figure out) appearing as their to-be-debuted OCs. A list, that would be followed by screenshots (and just in case, either of the them decides to suddenly start changing faceclaims after this post or deleting: everything has been documented, so don't expect a swift exit like last time, or people easily forgetting you).

Sabrina Donovan | by faceclaim: originally they had Alycia casted as a Maya McCoy (last name sounds familiar? Maybe because they literally separated another mutual's Deputy's name in two to give to their characters), only for it to be moved to a Valerie Montgomery (Montgomery again. HM) in the early morning hours today.

Mercedes Sibley | by faceclaim (or what they deemed close enough to her actual fc) given to a Jazmine Stone, a lookalike model by the handle emblu was picked to drive confusion, imo.

Oliver McKenzie | BY NAME and FACECLAIM: now here it gets hilariously bad - they actually mashed Oliver with John's last name prior to joining the project (Duncan) -> Oliver Duncan (Oliver McKenzie debuted as a character in my AU of John Seed as John Duncan). Dylan Riley has been given the face of Boyd Holbrook (Ollie's fc).

Leslie Parish | by faceclaim to an Adam Lancaster.

Oakley Moore | on October 26th I announced her full name Oakley Elizabeth Moore and how her nickname is Lizzie -> Lizzie Palmer in a board. At one point they shared an edit of an Oakley lookalike , for once not tagging an OC (which is unusual for them), so I won't be shocked if she gets casted next as the 'newest OC they can't wait to introduce'.

Smaller characters that are reoccuring in my wips: Both of John's closest Chosen: Mathias Bennett (last name for two characters for each Pinterest account, one is misspelled, which they often do to claim it's not the same name) and Brother Wyatt (first name) -> Wyatt Reed; Both of John's named clients, one is Owen Montgomery (both of his names picked like apples, Montgomery again. HM.) -> Harper/Valerie Montgomery and Owen Palmer. The character that drives the AU and John is in charge of defending: Nathaniel Mooney (even listed as character on my AO3) -> into Nathaniel Graham.

I've noticed MULTIPLE MUTUAL'S OCs NAMES also being ripped off on some scale (so my advice would be to check out the boards yourself), @socially-awkward-skeleton had her Chosen OC Caleb Winters pretty much stolen: exact faceclaim -> Kaleb Rhodes (is he a Kardashian? Now, that would be an interesting headcanon.)

Honestly, at this point, a better question would be which OCs they didn't get to... and the weird creepy behavior continued with saving headcanons into boards (Mer's white dog, Oliver's K9, Sabrina's entire aesthetic, her tattoo - exactly two butterflies, which are everywhere you look - in bios, names, board titles). Having Sabrina's nickname her father had for her and would literally call her in every single one of her memories (Monkey) -> Monkey in their bio only to edit out both the butterflies and Monkey just a couple of hours ago (did you realize you're a carbon copy of your alt Pinterest or? "A strawberry shall fix it! Fool 'em.", she told herself.)

Then the situation only got worse and up the creep-o-meter.

I was notified of something concerning by @adelaidedrubman , who earlier had also been followed both on her main and side blog she uses for reblogs: After getting a strange ghost notification on an blog she doesn't even use and has no activity on, let alone that many followers, she can only see 4 of the 7 people following her. Unblocking the previously mentioned shady accounts, she gets this:

Somehow, both had discovered an account out of use and followed it. An account belonging to the person they had previously followed and been blocked by.

I truly personally believe they still watch my blog and what I post (which btw, whatever your name is: if only you put that much effort into writing your own fics and coming up with characters, headcanons and names instead of stalking multiple mutuals in hunt for ideas...).

Once I finally decided to update my pinned post on my blog with new gifs (which take hours to edit sometimes) of Sabrina, they suddenly pinned a snapshot of one of the exact same gifs to their Valerie Montgomery board. Hours later they reblog the other gif they could find and CHANGE THEIR LAYOUT TO MATCH SABRINA'S SIDEBLOG-> Alycia in the icon and butterfly in the header (my header has been up since April 25, I made it specifically for her blog). Both icon and banner are now changed, one could only ask why even select the previous ones to begin with, if not to fuck with a person you've been targetting.

Now we move onto how they describe their OCs as headcanons, who one of them loves to tag with "Do Not Steal" (Who's stealing here, honey boo? None of us that you've set your sights on have given you any type of permission since you make it a big deal to have it). Little examples in the screenshots below, they have snippets for other characters too, so chances are someone would recogize their blorbo being put in a wig and renamed.

As I'm writing this post, Alycia is still a faceclaim to Valerie (tomorrow she might be moved to a third faceclaim with how they've been behaving), they constantly change things around (despite claiming they have this clear idea of their OCs) and act like they're being stolen from by tagging everything with "no stealing", deleting posts that could make them look suspicious (including the ones I've pointed out of the gifs featuring Alycia and matching my own edits of the scene), taking claim of simple headcanons like Jacob owning a cabin and horses being ridden in Montana, while also mass-following mutuals from multiple fandoms like FC5, COD, Mortal Combat, RDR2, the list goes on and on. They're looking for a place to take root, the next person to leech from. If you're tagged in this, they follow you (and they have been picking OCs names from people they've followed before) and your content, ideas, characters identity might be next on their list of OCs they gather as pokemons. Beware and if they do deactivate after this... well, it won't be as easy to disappear this time around.

To the two Swipers that can't stop swiping: Don't mistake the kindness of the fandom(s) and its people for encouragement to be shady and turn people's happy places into hell. True intentions shine through with time, you can sense when someone deeply loves their characters and when they only push them out like they're on a conveyor belt to gain exposure and false validation for someone else's creativity. This is something you both can't fake, no matter how many times you reemerge as a new person.

In Jacksfilms' wise words, "Stop Stealing."

@corvosattano @florbelles @cassietrn @voidika @theelderhazelnut @onehornedbeast @direwombat @jillvalentinesday @henbased @madparadoxum @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @redreart @purplehairsecretlair @laindtt @mrdekarios @nightbloodbix @simplegenius042 @aceghosts @stacispratt @clicheantagonist @wrathfulrook @strafethesesinners @strangefable @unholymilf @josephseedismyfather @shellibisshe @macs-babies

[same-pic-of-polaris-everyday]

(Mod:)

I think the only reason I’d stop doing this is if someone tells me too? Though I’m thinking about queueing a ton and just letting that happen. Right now I am queuing them daily, but if I take a break from Tumblr, which I’m thinking about, maybe over the summer, I’ll probably just queue a few months of posts for until I come back, which, I fear, is inevitable.

I know I don’t post much of anything else, really, but that’s mostly just because I don’t know what else to post. This blog has a very clear rule of what I post, daily picture of Polaris, the North Star, and I don’t know what I would do aside from that?

Some late night thoughts to ponder, again, somehow leading down the same path. But that is not a problem for the couple little friends in my phone.

I don’t know if I’ll even post this, it would be weird, and doesn’t match the above mentioned “rule” of this blog, which I find very important, to follow these made up rules. Why do I do this? I don’t know! Well, some vague possibilities, I’m sure, but not something to worry about! Not for me, and not for you, friends, if you haven’t scrolled by already.

I don’t know why I’m still writing, the clock keeps ticking, and I should sleep, and yet here I am. Writing a rambling post at, uh, way too late, and no longer making any sense to myself, even, I fear. Oh well!

I might delete this later, it doesn’t fit or belong here, really, but I’m tired of writing things and not doing anything with them.

But yeah, like I said at the top, I’ll probably try to take a break over the next few months, not starting immediately or anything, but eventually. I’ll queue a bunch for the next few months, check in sporadically, I suppose, but less often.

Not that it will make much of a difference, I don’t really do much here anyway, aside from posting the same exact thing, over and over. We used to do a cool Fun Fact Friday thing, but after the first few weeks, I ran out of fun facts I could find. I used to do goodnight posts, then felt they were getting repetitive, so I started just reblogging Artist Under The Stars’ goodnight posts, but then they took a step back, and I stopped. Maybe I should start that again? It was fun…

Goodnight, all! May the stars light your future! Goodnight, my little friends, goodnight!

[sugatrapp]

「 W a f f l e s 」

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Pairings: Carmen Berzatto x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: You wanted to take a picture with Carmy, but he didn’t take it seriously. You threatened to post the failed pictures on Instagram, but then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.

Warnings: NSFW / Sexual Themes ~ Spanking ~ Food Play ~ Non-specified gender or genitalia of reader ~ just an overall playful and goofy mood with a little spice

A/N: It’s my birthday today, but I figured why should I be the only one to enjoy today? Well, you’ll probably enjoy it more than me since I have classes 🙃 but still hope you like the story!

AO3

Masterlist

Ko-Fi

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

Being around Carmen felt as natural as breathing. From the moment you met, you knew right away there was no one else you’d rather give your heart to. He made you laugh even when he wasn’t trying, he remembered the most minuscule details about you and what you liked, and he was always there when you needed him. You could never bother me. ‘M only a call or text away, he’d remind you for the fortieth time after you admitted to not wanting to add to his stress from work. No one could ever dream of asking for a better boyfriend.

Except whenever you tried to take pictures with him.

It had been ten minutes since you asked him to take a picture with you for your socials. Saving memories was your second favorite part of making them, so it was inevitable that you’d ask him. But he was in an especially playful mood that day. The smile he flashed at the camera was overly wide and a bit creepy if you looked long enough. With a pout, you shoved him away while he laughed.

“You’re such a jag off.”

He held a hand over his mouth to calm himself down to no avail. “Hey, I smiled didn’t I?”

“Like a serial killer.”

He shrugged and kissed your forehead as an apology. As you scrolled through the handful of failed images, a lightbulb flicked on over your head.

“I don’t even care, I’m still gonna post them.”

“No you’re not.”

When he saw the blank expression on your face, he reached for the phone only for you to hold it out of his grasp. You both made eye contact. A glint he knew all too well flashed behind your eyes. A glint that meant you were going to be a bratty pain in the ass. He reacted a second too slow as your form dodged his arms and took off running up the stairs. He rushed after you, but you had already shut and locked yourself in the bedroom. He banged on the door.

“Babe open the door! You better not post those.”

“Or what Carmen?” You asked, putting emphasis on his name.

“I’ll sue.”

You chuckled. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in court then.”

He sighed, running his fingers through his curls while pacing. What to do, what to do? After a moment, an idea popped into his mind and he smirked. He made sure to get nice and close to the area of the door where he knew you were standing.

“I’ll spank you.”

There was dead silence for a while before you spoke in a breathless whisper.

“Promise?”

He hummed in agreement. “Just give me your phone and you can have what’s behind door number one.”

“What’s the catch?”

You knew him too well.

“You take however many I feel you deserve—“ you made a sound of protest, “but I’ll sweeten the deal with some waffles.”

You thought over his proposal, but the throbbing between your legs had already decided. The lock clicked and the door swung open. You huffed as you handed over your phone. He deleted all but one of the photos, using it to set your wallpaper to his creepy smile before pocketing the phone. You’d see his surprise later.

You were bouncing your leg the entire time he was preparing the waffles. Carmy was awfully heavy handed when it came to punishments. Just a few weeks ago when he caught your hand between your legs without permission, you thought he was in a good mood helping you find your release. But then he kept going and going until you were too sore and sensitive to handle him even breathing on your skin.

A shiver ran up your spine as the steaming stack of waffles was placed on the island in front of you. While you were zoned out, he had dressed them up with whipped cream and berries, topping it off with buttermilk syrup. You were definitely not going to be able to sit down properly for a while.

“You wanna eat ‘em now or take ‘em with you?”

“With me,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t worry babe, I won’t go easy on you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You frowned as he chuckled, giving you one last nicety of a kiss at your temple before he got down to business.

“Bedroom in three. Don’t be late.”

•─────────────•°•❀•°•─────────────•

He was sitting at the edge of the bed when you entered. Beside him was a can of whipped cream. He patted his leg with a smirk on his face.

You took a deep breath before walking over, carefully lying across his lap with your waffles. You had sliced them into smaller pieces downstairs to make it easier. He wasted no time, hooking his fingers beneath the waistband of your shorts and underwear, tugging them off. You flinched as he gave you a light playful swat, laughing.

“I haven’t done anything yet, baby, relax.”

Easy for him to say. You knew he was lulling you into a false sense of security as he caressed your bare bottom, but you couldn’t help but melt, taking a bite of the waffles. It was heavenly, all fluffy and sweet, bright flavors exploding in your—

Smack!

You yelped as his hand came down hard on your right cheek.

“Count,” he demanded.

“O-One chef.”

“Good.”

Another on the right. Two chef. Three chef. Four. It wasn’t until eight when he switched to the left. It was because the right cheek was slightly smaller than the other. You were insecure about it at first, but he made sure to give it equal attention in any other case. But in this case, it didn’t help.

Tears streamed down your face at eleven, shoving more waffle in your mouth to mask your noises. His hand left your hot skin for a moment and you braced for another hit only to be met with a cold spray of whipped cream. He smeared the cream over your sore bottom, bending over to lick it off.

You mewled, forcing yourself to remain still as he tongued you down, open mouth kisses getting awful close to your desperate core. Of course he pretended not to notice, avoiding it like the plague yet gripping your inner thigh mere inches away.

“Carmy,” you moaned.

His hum vibrated over your skin.

“Please…”

Smack! You had fallen for it again.

“Was trying t’ give you a break but if you insist.”

You gritted your teeth, stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. Another five hits later and the whipped cream was back. You sighed and pushed back into his roaming hand.

“Taste so good baby,” he moaned.

You stabbed another piece of waffle with your fork, twisting a bit to offer it to him. He closed his mouth around it, expression blissful as he took in the flavors. He plucked a strawberry from the plate, dipping it into the whipped cream still on your ass. You squirmed in place, beyond turned on and uncomfortable at being in the same position for so long.

Smack!

“You gonna be good or am I gonna have to add another one?”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll be good for you.” Then you sweetened the deal with wide, albeit watery, puppy eyes.

He took another fruit from the plate and popped it in his mouth. “Still got two more.”

You whined, on the verge of kicking your legs in protest until another smack halted you in your tracks.

“Three more.”

You bit your tongue and nodded. Eventually twenty-two rolled around and you sighed in relief. Your waffles were all gone, a few pieces of fruit left behind. You hissed as he ran his hands over your sore cheeks, no doubt bruised.

“Did so well for me baby. I think you deserve a little treat.”

Your eyes lit up. “You mean the waffles weren’t it?”

“I mean, if you don’t want it—“

“No!” You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck and pecking the side of his face. “I want it.”

He stood up, hands falling to the button of his jeans. You watched with hungry eyes as his pants and boxers fell to his ankles, revealing his engorged cock. The tip was an angry red, a bead of precum just begging to be licked off. As if it wasn’t enough, he sprayed a strip of whipped cream down the length.

“Think you can handle it?” He teased, slowly stroking himself and smearing the cream.

“Oh I know I can Berzatto.”

“Then c’mere and show me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice.

[tired-all-the-time22]

I just got here from the YouTube via the LaPlace’s Angel animatic, it has been replaying on my phone for at least 20 minutes if not more- I am obsessed with your guys and also your expressions and linework. If I may, might I ask what was going on in it?

Sure!!! I'm always excited to talk about my little guys :DD This is gonna be like. A ridiculously long post because of all the backstory, lore, and context I'm about to dump on you so I'm gonna put it under the break below.

Also now that I've fully written this I will also say it kinda turns into like. actual writing at the end so yeah. this gets long.

Massive thanks if you actually read it all!!!! lol

Also massive spoiler warning because I'm making a comic of these guys and the animatic is basically like. the climax of the story

(I might copy this writing and delete the post later when/if the comic starts picking up in popularity-- don't want it to get completely spoiled lol)

TW for text depictions of violence, murder, child/teen death, and brief mentions of child abuse

Ok so like. I made two little diagrams to explain the relationships between everyone in the animatic (click for better quality/readability):

These are everyone's general relation/feeling towards each other:

For larger context,

this is set in a post-apocalyptic world where most of humanity has straight up disappeared. Planets have been rearranged and earth has essentially just become a snowball, all courtesy of an 8 year old Nyx (purple) breaking down and gaining psychic powers after Faux (blue), her newly-acquired father figure, is knocked out and presumed dead at the hands of her abusive biological mother.

Nyx grows up blaming herself for the annihilation of the humanity, but has also in the process created a new, weird world inhabited by many different creatures, becoming a sort of god-like figure. Grief-stricken and horrified by what she has done, Nyx isolates herself - terrified of repeating what has happened - until she ages to 16, at which her trauma and inability to move on manifest in her mind and body magically stagnating, now unable to progress further in her life. This goes on for [really long amount of time undetermined by author yet].

Unknown to Nyx,

the residual effects of her powers had actually resurrected Faux, who is now left alone on a now snow and debris-filled earth to go about his business, isolated and amnesia-ridden.

Meanwhile, Ash (red) and Attwell (pink)

have come into being as distant personifications of Nyx's self-preservation (including her wish to be able to move on) and her mind/intelligence respectively.

(There are other personifications that exist, such as her love of humanity, physical flesh, and the physical energy/electricity in her body, but they're not quite important here. These personifications, though originally manifesting from Nyx, are all their own people, generally unaware of where their relation to each other or Nyx herself.)

Attwell (similar in body/mind situation as Nyx -- 16 and unable to grow past that) grows up among a society of capitalistic and corrupt racoons who make high-tech inventions where she is isolated, her ideas are stolen, and where she is generally mistreated by pretty much everyone around her. Unfortunately, having grown up in this environment she has also been indoctrinated into the idea that this is the normal way to be treated. Ash on the other hand, is pretty much spawned - fully grown (~25ish, same age as Faux) - into existence along with his pseudo-sister (aformentioned personified love of humanity), and is subsequently tasked along with her to take care of a sort of mini-humanity who grow and die relatively rapidly, over and over again. His sister, Yasen (not pictured, same age), is enamored with this humanity, throwing extravagant blowout parties in order to give what she believes could be the best life they could have before their inevitable death, while Ash aspires for more, unsatisfied with simply preserving what they have.

This culminates in an event when

(pre-isolation) Nyx makes a visit to their city to explore what she has created; ending in a death, a horrified and re-traumatized Nyx, a heartbroken and betrayed Yasen, and an Ash who has now found who he (misguidedly) believes to be the bringer of progess he has been looking for (Nyx). Ash leaves Yasen and their mini-humanity to become a mentor, bodyguard, and follower of Nyx, who has now gained a reputation as the creation goddess of their world.

This all goes on for [aformentioned long and undetermined time] until one day, Ash stumbles into Faux through Shenanigans and, unknowing of who he is or his relation to Nyx, collects him from his isolation and dumps him in the forest Attwell grew up in.

Hijinks (capital H) happen, and Faux ends up meeting Attwell, mentally adopting her, and dragging her out of the bad situation she's been saddled with growing up, her kicking and screaming the whole way. They get kicked out and banned from returning from the racoon society, Attwell devastated and terrified of leaving the only place she's known, despite its shittiness. Faux, unaware that he actually already has an adopted daughter, is intrigued with exploring the new world he's been shoved into. The two go on adventures together, with Attwell desperately trying to find a way back into a society that never accepted her through trying to prove herself useful, and with Faux slowly coming to remember the life he used to lead bit by bit.

Along the way, Ash, oddly interested by Faux, starts secretly meeting with and forming a relationship with him.

Subsequently, Nyx discovers Attwell's existence for the first time and is enamored with her boldness and attitude. Attwell has just now met the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. The two begin their own secret meetings as well.

Then begins the three major events leading up to what happens in the animatic.

Ash, in an effort to force his and Yasen's mini-society out of the cycle of death and rebirth, injures an enraged and protective Yasen in a fight to the point she succumbs to her wounds and dies.

This happens right before the eyes of Nyx, who is horrified and blames herself, Ventria and Shax (other two personifications mentioned earlier), who had become like little siblings to Yasen in Ash's absence, and Attwell, who had only just been starting to find a community and people who cared about her and was coming around to the idea of staying with them, all courtesy of Yasen. Faux, though aware of Yasen's death and her significance to Attwell, does not witness Ash's actions and continues to meet with him. Attwell, hateful of Ash and defeated in every way possible, leaves the city without a word to anyone. Nyx returns to her place of isolation to grieve, while Ash is left to sit with the feeling of essentially killing his sister.

2. Attwell, tired and having been broken, built back up, and now broken all over again, returns to where she grew up, begging for forgiveness. She is given the ultimatum that, if she is to return, she is to serve a minor deity responsible for the forest's wellbeing, as resources have been dwindling. Attwell accepts the ultimatum, desperate for any amount of belonging, acceptance, or praise from an authority figure.

This manifests in a wedding-like ceremony where it is revealed that pledging herself to this deity in the way needed would kill her, as the deity would possess her. This revelation comes at very inopportune time, having only been disclosed to Attwell at the altar by the deity itself, and by accident no less. For Attwell, who has ever only been a child used as a sacrificial lamb for the majority of her life, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Full of regret, rage, and mental exhaustion, Attwell accepts the deity, loses control of herself, and violently murders the ringleader of the society/the main instigator of her mistreatment, in addition to causing massive collateral damage as a result of out-of-control plant powers. In the aftermath, running on fumes, Attwell limps away to find Nyx and, in her mind, say her goodbyes.

3. Faux, having been left behind by Attwell, finds himself alone again in the aftermath of Yasen's death. Her city, and her little siblings, are significantly rattled and at a loss of what to do in her absence. They'd never had to grieve before -- they never even knew the meaning of what death truly meant. And now Faux-- the only adult in a sea full of freshly-traumatized and grief-filled children --strangely starts to feel as if he's been in this situation before.

He sticks around to help Shax and Ventria with the fallout, and with the death of their older sister. He's worried about Attwell but- there's just. Something. here that needs his attention. He's been having flashes of a life that he thinks might be is, and he's on the verge of figuring out what the deal with that is. Eventually, he discovers Ash lurking around in the back alleys of the city, with a heavy air of contemplation and an undertone of regret. The two meet up, Faux unknowing the Ash is the direct cause of the city's great loss, and venture into depths of the city only privy to Ash and Yasen. They fall down a sinkhole or something and get isolated, met with a cave full of darkness and crystals clean enough to reflect the tiniest details with stunning clarity. They venture deeper and deeper into the cave in an attempt to escape, Faux's head starting to pound with increasing pain as Ash grows concerned. As the pain grows to agony, Faux is met with flashes of memory, and soon enough what was the solid ground of his mind -- his consciousness, his sense of self, what he thought he knew -- crumbles. Faux plummets. and then, He remembers. First, he remembers himself. Then he remembers the woman he met long ago, and their affair. Then, he remembers the kid. His kid. His daughter. His daughter who is very much still alive, who he's seen throughout the past few months everywhere -- scripture, folk stories, stained glass in religious congregation -- Faux is left reeling on the ground, shocked and terrified and devastated. and Ash, confused and unable to cope, Leaves him. Later, when Faux begins to wake from his shock, finds himself alone, and he knows exactly who he needs to see.

Now! With all of that out of the way, we can get to the animatic.

(apoligies for taking so long to actually answer your question)

What's below is the TLDR of what's happening in the animatic:

However,

if you will indulge me in yapping more about these four, you can read on for a more in-depth scene of what is happening in the animatic:

Everyone is looking for Nyx.

Attwell gets there first.

The two reunite, emotionally exhausted and in greatly in need of seeing the other. Over the time they have gotten to know each other, Nyx has found someone her age that gets her -- that doesn't idolize, or infantilize, or minimize what she's gone through-- and though Attwell can't truly understand the scope of it, she's willing to let Nyx do what she needs. And Attwell, so used to being used, has found someone who respects her autonomy and intelligence. Though these two have not gotten a proper moment to truly hang out like normal teens, there is respect, and adoration, and there are the beginnings of love. Their happy reunion is short-lived.

Ash gets there next.

Unwell and unsure of his previous actions, he sees them together. He first sees Nyx -- the kid who he's come to care for and grow protective over, and Attwell -- the rambunctious girl that fought him every step of the way in his city, over what to do with the people he was charged with caring for, and who emboldened his sister to fight with him to the point that he had to kill her to get what he needed done. Safe to say, he is deeply unhappy with this development. Safe to say, that girl needs to get the hell away from his kid. Attwell soon becomes aware there's someone watching her and Nyx. She looks, and sees the man who murdered the only other adult in her life (apart from Faux) that didn't see her as cannon fodder. She's not about to let this man take away one of the only good things she has left in her left. Not again. Not when she's got such little time left. So she gets up, puts herself between the two, and resolves that, if there's anything-- anyone she's going to sacrifice herself for, it's going to be Nyx.

Nyx had always been there. With herself.

She'd been with only herself. For years, for decades, for millenia-- she didn't know. She hadn't even been old enough to read a clock when her dad died, so it's not like counting would have done anything for her. Besides, There were no clocks left. No calendars or alarm clocks, no sundials or hourglasses. She had destroyed everything in her wake, and left nothing in the aftermath. Everything that had mattered was gone. She had left everything ruined, and continued that path into the afterlife. But now. they mattered. The two in front of her. This man who had aided her through her lowest, despite claiming indifference. She knew he cared for her. Even in the earliest beginnings of their meeting, she knew. Could one child have four parents? The first two hadn't cared for her -- she knew that now. But she had killed the third, and now the fourth... Could a child like her deserve a fourth? A child that had achieved nothing but death, and was only rewarded with more murder? And the girl in front of her... The girl that she hadn't even been aware of months ago, that had both more and less than Nyx had ever had. The girl that had sought her out in her time of need. Nyx had never known friendship. She knew of it -- of the characters on the TV she used to watch as a little girl, sitting with her dad as he braided her hair and told bad jokes. She saw it looking out onto the street from the window of the one-bedroom apartment she lived in when her mother was gone. She longed for it. Attwell was it for her. Friendship, love, family- Nyx had only ever known the concepts. But she knew. and now, She was horrified. The sight before her was nothing short of ravenous. These two, who she had come to hold so deeply in her heart, clawed and punched and stabbed at each other with nothing but pure, unadulterated violence. She couldn't tell whose blood was whose. It didn't matter. She needed it to stop. She needed something to happen- She needed to someone to do something- She needed to make it stop- The tension in her mind snapped. something had released. She couldn't see what- she had closed her eyes without thinking. But there was silence. and then, there was a sickening thud.

Faux had gotten there last.

And he had gotten there too late. What laid before him, was the most unfortunate, most one-in-a-million-unluckiest-fucking-horrifying thing he had ever seen in his life. First, he saw his daughter, his little girl, face frozen in shell-shocked, ice-cold terror as she sat on the floor, legs unable to support the weight of what she had just done. Then, he saw the man he had been coming to like more than a little over the past few months standing, with talon-like nails and hands painted in warm blood, face obscured, fingers twitching. And finally, he saw the corpse. He saw the child. corpse. of the girl he had gotten to know. Of the young girl that was so bright, despite what she had gone through and what people had done to her. The young, fragile girl he let leave while he stayed behind to try and pick up pieces he wasn't even sure were there at the time she left. The spear lodged in her chest was the only thing that was new. He had seen it only a few times. The same places he had remembered his daughter from-- they had always accompanied her in her depictions. The heavens' wrath, they said. His eyes returned to his daughter. and his heart broke. Because it was like watching her fall and scrape her knee as a kid. Because she was silent. Because then she crawled forward, and pitifully grasped the shirt sleeve of the only friend she had ever had. Because her tears welled up, face catching up to the scene before her. Because then, She wailed.

-----------

I didn't mean for this to turn into me essentially writing fanfiction about my own characters, but here we are!!!

I have been getting back into writing lately, so maybe this was a good little exercise to get the creative juices flowing :))

MASSIVE thank you if you read until the end!!!!!

I am always open to more questions if you have any!!

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

A Nightmare Thrice Cursed

This is take two. I deleted the last one because I refuse to put out subpar work and the first draft certainly was. I’m a bit more confident this time. And I’m not so tired and frustrated that I can’t reread it before posting. And honestly it's still not my greatest work

Summary: You have a nightmare and Xiao is therefore you when you wake up

Word Count: 689

CW/TW: Blood, violence, not-death, hurt/comfort, nightmares (ya know, the fun stuff)

Xiao/Fem!Reader

Lighting flashes against a flat pewter sky. You stand beneath it, statue still, heedless of the damp hair that clings to your face or the rainwater that drips from your nose. 

Weather ceased to matter the moment you drew your sword.

Perhaps it was fate, or at least well deserved, having the yaksha you love and a handful of Millelith come for your head. You were the one who opened the treasure. A treasure that was thrice warded, thrice warned, and now, thrice cursed.

The first curse was pain, akin to a thousand strikes of lightning as a mindless abomination stole control over your body. You didn’t even have time to call Xiao’s name.

The second curse made itself known as the new occupant of your body rampaged. Men, women, children, it didn’t matter to the monster you unleashed. Blood covered the Guili Plains from the Dihua Marsh to the statue of the Seven just outside of the Harbor. Of the many voices crying out for help, yours was the most fervent, and likely the most unheard.

After the bloodbath, it was inevitable that the Conqueror of Demons came for your life. In truth, your heart leapt at the sight of your lover’s masked visage. What you couldn’t have known is that the thunder was an omen.

You were forced to draw your sword, the very one gifted by the Yaksha when you first got together, and use it against him.

The battle raged on. The Millelith fell quickly. The battle between an ancient demon and an equal ancient Adeptus proved to be too much for them to keep up.

Several hours later, the fight has come to an end and you’re still alive. Alive, free, and cursed a third time--this time, with loss.

You should have lost your head. Very few fight a Yaksha to the death and live to tell about it. Certainly you shouldn’t have even if you really wanted to. You were begging to have the love of your life to free you, even at the cost of your life. 

Instead, your blade pierces his heart. 

You yank your sword out of his chest, dropping it so you can catch Xiao’s limp body.

His blood stains your shirt. You push his bangs out of his face, watching as the last light leaves the eyes of Liyue’s last Yaksha. Still, you can’t help but plead. “Please, please, please. Xiao. Don’t leave me. I didn’t mean to.”

“...Xiao.” 

“Y/N!”

Your eyes fly open and you suck in a burning breath. “Xiao, you---you were gone. I-I---”

“I’m right here. Take a deep breath. In and out, in and out.”

The golden eyed Yaksha guides you through a breathing exercise until he’s satisfied with the rhythm of your breathing. 

Once your breathing has settled, you curl into a ball, pressing as close to Xiao as the physical laws of the world will allow. The tears that have been prickling your eyes spill over.

Xiao holds you while you sob, rubbing small circles on your back. 

The light of a nearby flash of lightning surrounds you, immediately followed by the roar of thunder. You flinch, trying to hide from the sounds that accompanied Xiao’s dreamland death. 

The Yaksha pushes you back so that he can wipe your tears and see your expression properly. “What was it this time?”

Once you would have turned away to deal with the aftermath of a particularly bad nightmare yourself, but you’ve lost count of how many times Xiao has helped you through these, so you’re forthcoming in your explanation. Or as forthcoming as you can be around hiccups and another round of tears.

When you’re finished, Xiao pulls you close again. “I wouldn’t do that to you. As much as I would hate to hurt you, I wouldn’t let a demon steal your body like that. I owe that much to the wonderful woman who dares to love a Yaksha. I would free you.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. But I don’t think you’d open the treasure to start with.”

“Probably not,” you mumble into his chest.

“Now rest. Let me chase your demons away.”